The Road to Little Dribbling
It's a long time since I last posted on my book blog, and during
that period we have been in London, staying at what has become our regular
summer abode in Kensington—just behind St. Mary Abbot’s Church, in a small mews
house, whose owner goes away to Yorkshire each summer. And we have, as
usual, been very busy with the myriad of cultural--and other--activities available in London. Nevertheless, I
have still managed to get some reading in, and there are four books on which I will
comment briefly. All four are worth reading, although—as usual—I have some
reservations. I will make four separate posts, of which this is the first.
Let’s
start with an easy one. Bill Bryson’s up-date on Britain as he sees it, many
years after his first book, “Notes from a Small Island.” The new one is called
“The Road to Little Dribbling,” and it is funny, very funny, in places; but
there is a slightly sour note in it as he rants about all sorts of things—poor
punctuation, litter, traffic engineers, slow walkers blocking the way of fast
walkers, service in hotels and restaurants, pretentious cuisine…I could
continue. There is much repetition as he drinks too many beers in various
hotels before going to bed. His aim is to drive on a more-or -less straight line from one end of England to the furthest point in Scotland, but that idea seems to disappear as he pops around from place to place.
Somehow it seems he is
writing a book to order; by way of introduction he mentions that his publisher told him it was time
for a new book, and he has responded. The somewhat sour note is also emphasized
by his semi-moaning about the problems of aging, which prompted me to think, “c’mon,
Bill, you are only in your ‘sixties.”
Next--when I get the time--after a short trip to the Cotswolds--I will write about "Noonday," by Pat Barker, in which she moves forward in time to the Second World War with the characters from her earlier novels, "Life Class," and "Toby's Room." If you have not read them, you should have...