Coronavirus Reading
I have been filling my time with a catholic array of reading matter, which is seeing me through the Coronavirus Crisis.
As we went into the crisis, I was enjoying Black Vinyl, White Powder by Simon Napier-Bell.
I learnt about this book from a social media update by Patsy Chapman, a former Fleet Street editor, for whom I did some shifts back in the late 1980s.
Chapman mentioned it in an oblique way in a comment about TV presenter Caroline Flack's tragic end, and I was intrigued.
Having ordered and read it, however, I couldn't see much connection between the two things - but thoroughly enjoyed the book.
While ostensibly writing about drug use by musicians, former Wham! and Yardbirds manager Napier-Bell has penned a riveting first-hand history of the pop and rock industry. I would highly recommend it!
While ostensibly writing about drug use by musicians, former Wham! and Yardbirds manager Napier-Bell has penned a riveting first-hand history of the pop and rock industry. I would highly recommend it!
Next up was an Agatha Christie novel, Death Comes as the End, the only one of the best-selling writer's novels not to be set in the 20th Century - but 4,000 earlier in ancient Egypt.
Courageous, maybe, but not one of her best efforts.
For most of the whodunnit, it is hard to tell who the detective is, and, by its conclusion, almost all the suspects were dead. I reached the end but it was a struggle.
I then went on a motorbike ride to Seaford, just before official lockdown, and felt sorry for the assistant in an empty British Bookshop and purchased, for a fiver, Storm in a C Cup: My Autobiography by Caroline Flack.
Even as I walked away from the store, I suspected I wasn't going to enjoy this book, although I was fascinated to see if it would shed any light on her early demise.
In fact, it was not well written and, I must admit, a tedious read in parts. It also only went up to five or six years ago. Only the blurb page mentioned her death in 2020.
Caroline Flack came across as a decent person who had split her time working and partying. She loved hanging out with rocks musicians and DJs and, unlike in Napier-Bell's book, there was little mention of drink and drugs.
I wondered if a good ghost-writer might have made a better and fuller job of this.
However, Flack did seem prone to episodes of depression, often linked to intrusive media interest in her and love life.
She seemed to go for volatile relationships, with blokes who were obviously going to mess her around. But there was little clue that her life would end so sadly and tragically.
Afterwards, I felt I needed to pick up something better written. The Death of Ayrton Senna by Richard Williams was certainly a page-turner.
Williams, a quality newspaper sports writer, is a wordsmith and the whole book read like a good piece of long-form journalism, very descriptive and detailed.
Formula One ace Ayrton Senna - who died racing in 1994 - came across in the book as a great racing driver, a huge patriot - and a bit of a shit to the other drivers. His talent was only exceeded by his self-confidence, as if God was looking after him.
After racing through these modern books, something more traditional appeared in order.
In Our War with Coronavirus, I mentioned riding to Littlehampton just before lockdown and finding a benevolent bookseller who was giving away books to keep people entertained.
I picked up an 1892 edition of Cranford by Mrs Gaskell which was previously given to Dollie by her mother, who signed it on August 23, 1894.
Elizabeth Gaskell wrote it in eight instalments between December 1851 and May 1853 for Charles Dickens' magazine, Household Words.
I had heard of Cranford but knew nothing about it. I enjoyed the richness of the 19th Century language and the description of small-town society, although I did wonder if anything was ever going to happen.
When it did, I was hooked. I also loved the regular illustrations and reading from thick, rough-cut paper stock.
Not just an excellent read but a reading experience as well!
My latest reading has been harder.
On a motorcycle ride over Ditchling Beacon to Lewes before lockdown, I got talking to a veteran rider who recommended Motorcycle Roadcraft: The Police Rider's Handbook.
It is good but challenging for me as is Edexcel GCSE 9-1 Maths Foundation which I am reading because I have volunteered to help mentor a young person through their Maths GCSE.
Other than all this reading and Spectator magazine, I have been catching up with old friends, phoning one every day, which has been wonderful.
For most of the whodunnit, it is hard to tell who the detective is, and, by its conclusion, almost all the suspects were dead. I reached the end but it was a struggle.
I then went on a motorbike ride to Seaford, just before official lockdown, and felt sorry for the assistant in an empty British Bookshop and purchased, for a fiver, Storm in a C Cup: My Autobiography by Caroline Flack.
Even as I walked away from the store, I suspected I wasn't going to enjoy this book, although I was fascinated to see if it would shed any light on her early demise.
In fact, it was not well written and, I must admit, a tedious read in parts. It also only went up to five or six years ago. Only the blurb page mentioned her death in 2020.
Caroline Flack came across as a decent person who had split her time working and partying. She loved hanging out with rocks musicians and DJs and, unlike in Napier-Bell's book, there was little mention of drink and drugs.
I wondered if a good ghost-writer might have made a better and fuller job of this.
However, Flack did seem prone to episodes of depression, often linked to intrusive media interest in her and love life.
She seemed to go for volatile relationships, with blokes who were obviously going to mess her around. But there was little clue that her life would end so sadly and tragically.
Afterwards, I felt I needed to pick up something better written. The Death of Ayrton Senna by Richard Williams was certainly a page-turner.
Williams, a quality newspaper sports writer, is a wordsmith and the whole book read like a good piece of long-form journalism, very descriptive and detailed.
Formula One ace Ayrton Senna - who died racing in 1994 - came across in the book as a great racing driver, a huge patriot - and a bit of a shit to the other drivers. His talent was only exceeded by his self-confidence, as if God was looking after him.
After racing through these modern books, something more traditional appeared in order.
In Our War with Coronavirus, I mentioned riding to Littlehampton just before lockdown and finding a benevolent bookseller who was giving away books to keep people entertained.
I picked up an 1892 edition of Cranford by Mrs Gaskell which was previously given to Dollie by her mother, who signed it on August 23, 1894.
I had heard of Cranford but knew nothing about it. I enjoyed the richness of the 19th Century language and the description of small-town society, although I did wonder if anything was ever going to happen.
When it did, I was hooked. I also loved the regular illustrations and reading from thick, rough-cut paper stock.
Not just an excellent read but a reading experience as well!
My latest reading has been harder.
On a motorcycle ride over Ditchling Beacon to Lewes before lockdown, I got talking to a veteran rider who recommended Motorcycle Roadcraft: The Police Rider's Handbook.
It is good but challenging for me as is Edexcel GCSE 9-1 Maths Foundation which I am reading because I have volunteered to help mentor a young person through their Maths GCSE.
Other than all this reading and Spectator magazine, I have been catching up with old friends, phoning one every day, which has been wonderful.
posted by Ollie at
12:26 pm
2 Comments:
So many hauntingg black and white photos. A trip back in time.
A good idea to document your reading and thoughts during this dreadful time. We are living through historic times.
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