The Social Network

The Social Network left me stone cold. There is no character development here - just a plodding old-fashioned story of two dimensional characters flapping about. If this sleep inducing piece reflects the lives of the individuals involved, then they are bloody dull, and it really is immaterial how much money Facebook is said to be worth.

'Mistaken' by Neil Jordan

This book has absolutely blown me away. I know most of the references and where exactly Neil is coming from. It's a thrill to have been at school with someone who has become a major artist and to witness that development from afar.

Geoffrey Palmer in the News

Hey, I've just realised, the Jubilee Line at the end of my garden spoils my view of Shoot-up-Hill, a Roman road, no less. I shall immediately write to the actor/campaigner Geoffrey Palmer to mount a protest and have the blasted tracks removed. He can bring some some of his nice middle class friends and their kids too. Kilburn Station is such a dashed eyesore!

Brian's Novel

Stewie on Brian's novel; Bloody Murdochs gang at Fox have removed the excerpt. I should have known better than to have anything to do with his sh*t.

Boycott everything that he owns.

The Writer's Journey by Christopher Vogler

This book seems a bit light after Roland Barthes essay, Structural Analysis of Narratives. The Writer's Journey is California dreamin...

Bought a tiny Samsung laser printer. It just purrs obediently and efficiently like the black cat I don't have. Far superior to my clackety Epson inkjet '3 in 1'.

'Troubles' by JG Farrell - winner of the 'Lost Booker'

This book was a revelation to me. I swiftly became immersed in 1919-21 Ireland. Action is centred on the fictive Majestic Hotel in County Wexford as the country is on the verge of civil war. The run-down establishment is emblematic of the last days of British rule. Owned and managed by an eccentric unionist, the hotel caters for guests that are largely of that political hue, though there are a few notable exceptions. The Majestic is an enclave of the ascendancy. A siege mentality develops amongst the elderly guests. Life here is viewed through the prism of a young, liberal major just returned from the Great War and casually planning to marry the proprietor's daughter. His plans are thwarted by fate. One of many scenes that intrigued me was when a group of Oxford undergraduates stayed at the hotel. (Farrell himself attended Brasenose College, Oxford).  The proprietor, Edward Spencer expects them to support his bigoted, racist views of the native Irish. The visitors, despite their establishment backgrounds, empathise with the indigenous population's wish to break free of the colonial power. Spencer is livid.

The book was awarded the 1970 Man Booker prize in May 2010 - to make good the oversight of not awarding the prize that year - something to do with a mix-up in qualification dates. Anyway, unlike most Booker awards, the decision of the judges - in this case, the reading public - was overwhelming. It is clear to see why. It is very funny, quirky, sad, wise, and yet analogous of the troubled Ireland of the Nineteen-Seventies, when the story was written. I devoured the last 250 pages in one sitting. Sadly the author, JG Farrell drowned in 1979 in a Cork fishing accident. He had a reputation for being something of a curmudgeon on colonialism and capitalism. But for all that, the text never preaches and is concerned above all with the intrinsic humanity of its characters. 'Troubles' is part of Farrell's 'Empire Trilogy", the rest of which I cannot wait to savour.

Resurgence of literary avant-garde.

The avant-garde writer and critic, Tom McCarthy tells James Purdon of The Observer why his new novel, C, acts as a bridge between the future and the past Resurgence of literary avant-garde against the recent popularity of realism.

The realist novel 'Netherland'referred to in the article is, in my opinion, interminably long-winded and frankly, it doesn't help that this reader is no fan of cricket. George Bernard Shaw said "The English are not very spiritual people, so they invented cricket to give them some idea of eternity". The author, O'Neill - another Irishman - supplers a further infinity metaphor in the pacing of 'Netherland'.