Reading Before A Saturday Night Out

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

A "Saturday night out" conjures up images doesn't it. Of forgetting for a few hours the cares the world has thrown at you and just having a good time. You return to the perpetual hangover that is life on Sunday morning this is Saturday night....and you're out.

But I'm fifty three. Saturday nights have often been spent working and when I am free nodding off in front of the TV seems to be the most wildest things I've done. Times of wine (other alcoholic beverages are available),women (another gender could be available should you wish) and song (other leisure pursuits are available) are long since past. Then again I don't drink, am not a good singer and as for the opposite sex I'll leave that to your imagination.......as well as my own.

Yesterday however we were as a family going out. To ironically enough Penarth (given that's the area where we're moving to) and a restaurant there to celebrate the twenty first birthday of a friend's son. There are few things that make you realise the passage of time and how ancient and decrepit you've become than watching someone who you have known since birth move permanently into adulthood. There was a moment that I could carry him as you would any fragile object. Now he is a job, a girlfriend and that look of hope that only the young can carry off for a while. To him, we are probably fond memories of the past but his future he can start moving on for himself without the help of us relics.

The thing about going out for the evening is that there comes a moment where you have nothing to do because in half hour/forty five minutes it'll be time to get ready. That moment where the TV has been taken over by your daughter and the wife in the same position as you has decided to take a nap. Of course she will need greater time to get ready, having double my wardrobe space and yet apparently never having "a thing to wear".

So the Kindle is taken and I start reading H Rider Haggard's King Solomon's Mines. A book by a reputation and the half hour session I had with it is a "manly" read. Indeed if King Solomon's Mines was a person it would be having a few pre party lagers before we left and mocking me for my teetotalism and indeed the fact that I've a Kia Picanto and not some 4x4 "all terrain" thing.

Still it was (with reservations which I'll chat about when I've finished it) an entertaining read. You can see that this is the sort of book where the writer sort out to create a bestseller. Sort of a James Patterson (plus one other) of his day.

And I must admit it put my mind off the evening for the short period of time. Reading can do that. It can immerse you.

But eventually reality had to bite. It was time to throw on the aftershave (had to be one the wife had bought "Blue Water" by Davidoff. Not on an endorsement. As long as you don't smell like a dung heap I'm no judge of smells). Put on clothing that I've already laid out. In particular a blue shirt that has the magic ability to hide my body circumference no matter how wide it's turning out. And finally proceed to wait for half hour whilst wife/daughter get themselves "just" right whilst never feeling completely happy.

As for the dinner the company was nice and the artistically placed food (not a fan) was good but not worth the wait. It could almost be described as a quiet night out. Which at my age is probably as good as it gets.

Until the next time.

In Which Four Books Are Read In Twenty Four Hours And An Update To The Welsh Labour Metaphor

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well four books have indeed been read in a twenty four hour period. A combination of their relative briefness and my insomnia which has recently returned to bite by waking me up. Still four books off the list of Kindle great e book unread is productive.

(As a quick aside apparently ebook sales are falling at the exact moment that because all my traditional books have all been boxed/crated up awaiting the move I've used the Kindle the most. Thus showing my ability to join a trend at exactly the opportune moment! As I've said in the past though the Kindle (other e readers are available) does have it's strong points but nothing beats the quiet pleasure of turning a page).

And so to the four books:

Orations by President John Quincy Adams is really just a fancy title for a political speech. Let me save you the bother. It's not the Gettysburg address.

The Panda Theory by French writer Pascal Garnier. This is a novel of a man who wanders around a small town in Brittany and the people he meets. It's a story where nothing much happens, but it doesn't matter , because you the reader are affected by the ordinariness of it all. Essentially decent people trying to get a handle on their lives.

Needless to say I loved it. The blurb said that Garnier (a writer I wasn't aware of before buying the book in an Amazon deal) could be compared to George Simenon and I get it. Not only in the type of story being told but also in its relative thinness and its sense of place. I've never been to Brittany but  felt in the time it was being read that I was there. Garnier is a writer I'll look out for in the future.

Haydn is a 1908 biography of the composer by John F Runciman. Short,opinionated and basic (and that's just Runciman.....I'll get my coat) this really was a waste of time which upon finishing it made me able to go back to sleep.

A Ball Player's Career by Adrian C Anson is a sporting autobiography published in 1900 giving his account mainly of his time playing (and managing) the Chicago Base Ball Club.

It's a charming read, but not without bite. The story of a proposed breakaway league is fascinating. And the account of the way he left the club, having been betrayed by at least one person he'd considered a friend is heartbreaking.

Of the four books this definitely got the silver medal.

And the latest book I'm reading? King Solomon's Mines by H Rider Haggard, Definitely one of those books that you should cross off your literary bucket list whether you eventually like it or not. It's not the first book of his I've read. As a teenager I read a novel called Beatrice which was pure unmitigated twaddle from start to finish. Still, this is obviously a more famous work and has stood the test of time, so we live in hope.

And speaking of time....it's metaphor time  and yesterday was probably the last time before we move I went to the barbers. It is, you may remember a converted van, outside what was the Ogmore and Vale Labour club, now but a sorry wreck of happier times and was what I used as a metaphor for Welsh Labour in an earlier post.

The Metaphor Returns

You will see that to the left of this photo is a van. That's where the barbers have moved to as it was right next to the club for years. Clearly something was going on.

On entering the van I mentioned their move and my assumption that something after all this time was going to happen was proved correct. There was a lady and male barber there. He said the building was going to be completely demolished. Not saying that this was going to happen by election day but what was an iconic Labour party building in the area will soon become just a memory, and a withering one at that. So not just a metaphor for Labour in the present but for them in future as well.

What I'm going to say next is what the barber told me. I'm assuming it's correct, but for all I know this is but local gossip. You will need to bare that in mind.

What he said was that the demolished building was going to be replaced by flats for social housing with a couple of shops at the bottom and the specific one he mentioned was a Co-op grocery store.

Now I have no problem with social housing. The lack of it in Britain I'd argue is helping to cause social instability but if correct the news about the Co-op shop bothered me. Why? Because there are two convenience stores just a block away.

Why would Bridgend labour council agree to this? We all know exactly what's likely to happen. The Co-op will come in. Undercut the two other stores and then will have the power to do what it likes as at least one would close down. Competition only works for a short while but eventually in this sort of circumstance there is only one or at the very least a predominant store remaining which will have the power to do what it likes without any major comeback.

As far as I can see it (and let me stress again it's on the assumption that what I was told was true) this is just the Labour council spreading their legendary incompetence in town management to the suburbs as well.

Incidentally we discussed the forthcoming elections (a lady hairdresser was there as well) and I stated that Plaid Cymru was having my vote. No one actually questioned me on it. No one said "You're an idiot" or "You're English why? ". Labour need to understand that many Welsh people are disillusioned. Carwyn Jones might blame Jeremy Corbyn but the cancer affecting them started a long time before he came to power. This is just an excuse to hide a party which has been arrogantly incompetent in government on a local and regional level in Wales for years.

As I left I knew the lady hairdresser would consider voting for Plaid. My job was done.

Until the next time.

In Which I Chat About Cricket On The Radio,H P Lovecraft And Being Misled By An American President

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Have gone through a number of ebooks yesterday. About as varied as they could be.

So let's start with Can Anyone Hear Me? An account of BBC radio's Test Match Special Abroad by Peter Baxter a producer and commentator. I am a fan of listening to cricket commentary much more than watching it on television. It's a sport with gaps, and because of those gaps the commentators potentially talk about anything without losing track of the game. This is what makes cricket, and particularly cricket on the BBC different as, so far at least, there are no commercials.

Of course the Test Match Special team of the Seventies to the nineties has assumed such mythic status that there is a tea mug of a photo of these men. I have that mug....unfortunately packed awaiting the move. I've also read Peter Baxter's previous book with regard to their exploits in Britain and the best complement I can give this one is that it was enjoyed just as much. The closest way it can be described is as an after dinner speech done by the editor of Wisden.

Needless to say it's is an acquired taste. You would need to like cricket on the radio in the late eighties early nineties. It's like a book on wine, not just any wine but white white, and not just any white wine but from the outer limits of outer Mongolia. But if you have that taste I'd highly recommend it.

So once that was finished the next ebook turned out to be an H P Lovecraft short story Through The Gates Of The Silver Key. I'd never read him before, as I prefer my horror writing to be of the quiet chill down the spine variety. Still he has a reputation as being a master of his craft and I was curious.

Well it was rubbish. Regular readers to this blog will know that I try as much as possible to avoid giving out the details of a book as to avoid spoiling things but honestly I wouldn't know where to start describing this one. All I will say upon finishing this story was to seriously wonder whether Lovecraft was on drugs (a quick check on the internet suggested surprisingly not).

There is a twist to this tale which I could see (even if a ghost was in the way) a mile off. Truly the most horrific thing about it all was that this story actually got published in the first place.

So dear reader, if you approach an ebook with the title "A Book Lover's Holidays In The Open" what would you expect to be reading? Me I'd be expecting a man chatting about his holidays whilst buying and reading books which he'd also chat about. The sort of thing that I, a lover of reading would appreciate.

But no.Former president Theodore Roosevelt devotes just one, ONE chapter to his holiday reading and that's that for books thankyou very much. It's like creating a work called An Opera Lover's Holidays in Europe and only describing fat people expensively singing once. I tell you if I was alive when it was originally published (1916) I'd have demanded my money back under the Trade's Descriptions Act.

So what does he talk about as he wanders around the world? Well how much he's a fan of various safari parks but as far as I could gather really just to act literally as a feeder park for hunters such as him so that the stock is constant. There are chapters on hunting that just simply take your breath away by how mundane he describes the act of killing an animal.As if afterwards he's off to shops to get some milk

He's also racist. The N word is used and in a telling remark he describes native helpers in an African hunt showing more effort than "civilised" people. He didn't seem to realise that what he essentially said was that the native African people were better than the white guys. Oh the irony.

As for Native Americans? Well he is a fan of native American culture being kept and that they should have an education (including being converted to Christianity) but for the moment just to prepare them for menial labour until the day comes when they be assimilated into proper society. Let's not forget here that native Americans had to deal with not immigration but what was really an invasion from across the sea.

Let me take this further. If you are a white American how would you react if you read a sentence like this?

The White people have made long strides in advance during the last fifty years thanks to the presence of Latinas in their neighbourhood.

You'd be offended right. What if I was to tell you that in the book Theodore Roosevelt uses exactly the same sentence except for "White People" read Navajos and "Latinas" read white men (white women apparently being of no help whatsoever)?

Theodore Roosevelt reveals himself to being a racist, and possibly even worse than that a patronising racist. Unacceptable views wrapped in a civilised veneer. It possibly could be the best way to describe this book.

My Kindle it appears has a sense of humour. For the next ebook to randomly chosen to be read is Orations by John Quincy Adams who was also a President of the United States. Let's hope I like it.

Until the next time.

Why Do I Continue To Read D H Lawrence When I Hate Him?

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well Sea and Sardinia is finished and well to a D H Lawrence hater like me nothing, and I mean nothing has changed.

The only real pleasure it gave me was it's shortness. Otherwise it really should have given the reader a truer sense of the fate that was going to befall him/her by retitling the book Twilight In Italy2 aka you thought no one could make Italy/Italians even more boring than I did the first time.

Lawrence is a man incapable on cutting down on paragraphs. As if using so many words hides the fact that for the most part he's writing pure unadulterated twaddle. That, and his racism ( he the inglese observing these unsophisticated people living their lives as if he's in some type of experiment sets me on edge) made it for me an awful book to read.

It was one of those books that gave you a palpable sense of relief when you finished.

(A quick aside. The next book I'm reading is Can Anyone Hear Me? by Peter Baxter. It's essentially anecdotes about doing the Test Match Special BBC radio cricket broadcasts abroad. In all the housemoving stuff I'd completely forgotten that the cricket season had started and that the quiet pleasure of listening to the sport on the radio has returned. I will listen to that tomorrow, whilst continuing to box or crate our lives away. It'll be either that or cutting the grass for what I intend to be the last time before we leave......all depends on the weather)

So then a writer that in this blog has a status of regular villain. And yet I still read him and will probably continue to do so in the future. The question came into my head. "Why"?

(A question that could also be asked of my attitude towards writers that I don't hate but am neutral towards such as F Scott Fitzgerald or Jane Austen)

So then is it peer pressure? Yes and no. If you are the person who is in the minority with regard to an author then you do as a reader want to plough on and think is this next book going to be different? Well remember in all the times I've criticised Lawrence I've always stressed that it's based on the books that I've read. It's not impossible that you can dislike a work by a writer but love the next book you read from him/her. In the course of this blog I've had that experience with Michael Palin and, probably more pertinently, outside of this blog Kingsley Amis.

But that I'm willing to read further books by someone with a reputation does not mean that I will necessary change my mind. It's just that as a reader I'm willing to change my opinion to some extent if the right book comes along. Call it literary blind date. In the case of D H Lawrence though the right book hasn't come thus far so to me he just should be grateful for Lady Chatterley's Lover or else he'd be forgotten aside from people using his books as a cheaper form of Valium.

Until the next time.

Flying To The Moonstone And The Return Of A Blog Villain

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well in this literary bucket list that I've seemed to have stumbled upon since my reading habits have been totally devoted to the Kindle now that every other book has been crated, boxed whilst preparing to move house The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins has been finished.

This mystery novel is a best treated as a Victorian entertainment and I approached it on that basis. Judged accordingly although it's not the best book I've read this year it's an early contender for the one I've been pleasantly surprised by.

The thing that got to me about this was that Wilkie Collins plays tricks on the reader and I don't mean crime style red herrings either. It's written from the point of view of various characters as it progresses. So that people at the beginning of the book are not necessarily going to be the main attraction at the end. Also he is not afraid to have characters dominate the novel in the early stages only to disappear and return later on. There is probably only one person who is consistently through the mystery who the reader is not sure what to think of.

I enjoyed the book immensely. But there are caveats. As it was written in the Victorian era there is a sense of masters and servants, also of the lowly position of women in that time. A sort of "know your place". However these are not caricatures. You do get the sense of real people.

The caricatures are the "Indian" gang that permeate the novel. They really are "cliche Indian". Coming to Britain as "jugglers" (if there was a modern version made of the book they'd be software engineers) with their "Hindoo" religion. It was low level racism. Though I'd argue mitigated, at least in part by the ending which I can't explain further for fear of spoiling it for you.

So the next book in the great ebook unread turns out to be Sea and Sardinia by D H Lawrence. Honestly I pick these books at random but those of you who kindly read this blog regularly will think I've done this deliberately. For alongside Arsenal football club and Bridgend Labour Council D H Lawrence is a regular villain.

(A quick aside. You will note that the Prime Minister Teresa May came to Bridgend when she visited South Wales yesterday (I was working so I missed her majesty). The Conservatives aren't stupid. Come to a part of South Wales where Labour have run a region pathetically)

Of the books I have read D H Lawrence is remembered for the pants taken off Lady Chatterley but should also be remembered for boring the pants off the reader. Furthermore you may remember that I read his similar Italian book "Twilight in Italy" whose only literary feat was to make the nation and it's inhabitants seem dull.

So I don't hold out much hope.

Until the next time.

A Tory Victory In Wales? If It Happens It Wont Last

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Today the big political news is an opinion poll that suggests that the Conservatives could gain the biggest electoral share of the votes in Wales and gain the most seats. Now, this is the first poll and things could (and hopefully will) change. But let's be hypothetical here and say to ourselves "what if this poll proves to be accurate.....and why in Wales of all places?"

Let's discuss why are the Tories in a strong position. Well they are still benefiting from being the party dealing with Brexit and Wales voted for Brexit. I've said before that good people were mislead during the EU referendum, particularly on the issue of immigration. Nothing powers the right and the far right more than the perception (which is not be the reality but it doesn't matter image is king) of unfettered immigration.

And then there is Labour. It faces various issues. It's disunited on a UK level, in a Welsh level its record in the National Assembly and particularly in local government is that of incompetent arrogance, The days where Labour got votes simply for not being Conservatives have long since gone. As an example I have in this blog constantly gone to explain the urban tragedy that is Bridgend Town brought on I would argue by Labour neglect. Consequently a lot of people don't feel they owe them a debt. Their subliminal election slogan "We're Labour isn't that enough?" doesn't work anymore.

As for Plaid Cymru? The party I support? Perhaps I should explain something here. In a parallel universe Plaid Cymru are just as powerful in Wales as the SNP in Scotland. Leanne Wood has taken over from Dafydd Wigley and is contemplating Indyref 2. In this parallel Ieuan Wyn Jones did not become leader in between the two. Unfortunatly in the universe we're actually in he did. His tenure as leader was disasterous. He entered a National Assembly govt as a jumior partner and brought the party to such a low ebb that Ms Wood's strong achievement is to reverse that decline. His proposed return in this election would be a mistake.

And let us say one thing about Theresa May. I would argue that she is incompetent in every respect except the gaining and holding onto power. The analogy given to me on Twitter (@AlanHinnrichs all rights reseved etc) was of Mao. And it makes sense.

So if the unthinkable happens what then? Are we all going to a wide blue Tory tax heaven? Will Wales always have "and" before it aside from sporting events? No. For the factors that might lead to a Conservative victory could ultimately lead to its destruction and independence for Wales.

Let's start with the fallout from Brexit. If control is shown not to be in the EU but to various corparations abroad and they either pull the plug completely or reduce investment then it would have a knock on effect on communities. With Bridgend control has now moved to Detroit. The fate of the Ford plant there (and the knock on effects on the surrounding area) depends not on Europeans, or Britons but Americans.

Deprived communities will not take this lying down. There will be anger and resentment at Pro Leave Campaigners because the people will feel cheated. Living standards will decline and social cohesion will suffer. Conservatives will be venerable.

If we assume Labour is still in its civil war then people will look for an alternative. I've said before that I would rather have a gun pointed to my head than vote Tory. Others will feel the same way. Since Labour would be discredited Plaid will be there to pick up the pieces that a Brexit nightmare will inflict on Wales.

I've mentioned in the last post but one of an independence domino effect that Wales will not be immune from. A Brexit disaster will push the nation to run its own affairs....to "take back control".

Now I don't actually want this scenario to happen because it will mean an immense amount of pain to Welsh families across the country. We need to fight for a Plaid Cymru victory now. But should the Tories win Wales in 2017 it will not mean that independence is a lost cause.

Until the next time.

Leyton Orient From A Distance

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I know that I haven't mentioned sports a lot in this blog recently, as most of my spare time has been spent on the agonies and ecstasies of moving house (scrub that, just the agonies).

But there was a piece of news I heard yesterday that cannot go uncommented. After one hundred and twelve years Leyton Orient have been relegated from the Football League.

As explained previously though I'm a West Ham fan there are a group of clubs such as Cardiff, Swansea and Newport County that I consider friends. The best way to describe my attitude to these teams is like being very friendly with a woman but not having an affair as you're faithful to your wife.

But by far the oldest team in this group is Leyton Orient.

When I was much, much younger and the Hammers were playing far away I would travel down the central line from Redbridge to Leyton tube station, walk to Brisbane Road and watch a game. And you know, even if it's from the misty fog of nostalgia can't ever recall a game that was dull.

O's fans had a different sense of humour as well. I can remember a game in the eighties (can't give precise details, the programme having been boxed/crated) against Brighton. It's the first half and the Brighton player Steve Foster was sent off for a dangerous tackle. The away fans at the far end of the ground from me were furious. Screaming blue murder at the decision. The Home fans seemed content enough to do nothing but cheer until half time.

However once the ref blew his whistle the Brighton fans increased their hostile roars against him. The Orient fans? As he was approaching the tunnel they stood up and gave the man a standing ovation.

Brighton now promoted to the Premier League. Orient now relegated from the Football League. There are many twists and turns in football. It can provide joy but also can be cruel to those who don't deserve it.

I mentioned in September that in late nineties took my then girlfriend (and now wife) to watch a match where they faced the Welsh team Merthyr Tydfil in an FA Cup third round match. So it's even been used to help me court her. So thank you for that.

But of course they've never had it easy. Living under the shadow of the bigger London clubs, and particularly West Ham meant that they would always have pressure with regard to support. I support West Ham because it's the closest team to where I was born but am always annoyed by people living by me who supported Arsenal (Man Utd etc) because it was the more successful club so can understand Orient fans' annoyance. And when West Ham won the battle to move into the Olympic Stadium there was a lot of focus on Tottenham's failed attempt to do. But Spurs were just being North London chancers. Leyton Orient was more affected by this move and to me from a distance here in Wales seems to have been ignored by the London authority.

With the exact science that is hindsight the match I saw in September was a shape of things to come. At that time the O's were in top half of the table and their opponents Yeovil Town were at the bottom. But despite what the table standings would have suggested beforehand and that the home team were basically the better side, Yeovil had but one clear opportunity to score and they took it.

But it's what happened after the defeat that I'll always remember. When the Orient fans shouted their protests at the emperor Nero of an owner and he seemed to have waved their concerns away with cold disdain from an executive box. His look at that moment is one I'll never forget, seeming to have viewed the fans as if they were peasants.

It since then it's got much worse. A succession of defeats and indeed managers have led them to the relegation they have to deal with today. But you could argue that off the field the situation is even more worrying. A winding up order due to unpaid debts is hanging over the club and staff haven't been paid since March which they issued a statement about saying that they've had no communication about this from club directors. A situation that goes beyond sad. Tragic is the closest word I can think of.

The attitude of the owner is beyond comprehension. At best it seems to be Nero fiddling whilst Rome burns. At worst the thoughts turn much darker but I don't feel expert enough to discuss it here. I would suggest downloading the Orient Outlook (the best one club podcast I know) when it next comes out to hear the opinions of its more knowledgeable presenters. It'll be a sad listen but an important one for all fans of football.

Leyton Orient. In a hospital bed fighting to stay alive. For what it's worth I hope you'll pull through.

Until the next time.

Unquiet Flows The Don Quixote And The Library Question To Rhondda Cynon Taff Labour Party

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well I've done it. Another classic has been crossed off  the literary bucket list. Don Quixote by Miguel De Cervantes has been finished. Thank you. I know mental bouquets have been thrown by readers globally....well like to think so anyway.

To be honest though. Didn't like it. Starts interestingly enough. You're intrigued by the thought as to whether this is the oldest book you'll ever read where a complete nutter is the main character.

But as I read on. The thought occurred to me that what De Cervantes was doing was to getting everything he'd ever written and then proceeding to wedge it into this novel. You want sonnets? You get sonnets. You want short stories where Quixote is a peripheral figure? Here you go. You want a novel within a novel? You don't as you think it's pointless? Tough here's one I've made earlier.

And a quick aside about those stories I mentioned. A fair proportion of them seemed to be a variation on this formula. Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl who is the most beautiful and virtuous in [insert Spanish region, town, village here]. Boy finds obstacles in his path to true love.

The effect of all this, well on my poor humble brain anyway, is that you feel mentally wading into treacle. Grimly trying to hang onto any thread in all of this to pull you through to something much more clearer. A book should not have this effect on you.

I suspect that in this mess of a novel there is a book that I would have liked screaming to get out. That is however only I in a parallel universe has enjoyed.

The next tome to emerge from the pile of the great ebook unread is The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins. Another classic in that literary bucket list. Though as the Don has showed having classic status doesn't mean I'll like it.

And now another 140 character moment. When you're on Twitter you can get retweets from those you're following. I got such a tweet (actually more than one) yesterday from Rhondda Cynon Taff Labour party about its local manifesto. In it the local party promise investment in the following Children's play areas, 3G pitches, transport infrastructure, "Protect school budgets from Tory cuts" (Wait a minute isn't Welsh education controlled by the LABOUR controlled National Assembly and run with their agreement by a Lib Dem?), roads, "footways", childcare, free town centre wifi, town centre regeneration, increased graduate and apprenticeship posts and tackling dog fouling by employing more enforcement officers.

All very well. Though it gives the impression more of a wishlist than anything else and I can't help wondering why all these promises that have now been made just before the local election haven't been started earlier. After all if they the capacity to do this beforehand why not? Or is it one of those accounting tricks where you cut a budget until just before an election and then say "look at us we're putting extra money in" but this money is less than the amount cut years previously? In truth I don't know and it's for more knowledgeable people than me to discuss.

But the area I do know a little bit about,and the Twitter question I asked was "What about libraries?". In 2014 the Labour controlled council closed (as I understand it from google) fourteen yes FOURTEEN libraries. Depriving people of the joys of discovering books, community activities and for those poorer families free access to the internet.

And not just fourteen libraries, but fourteen communities as well would have suffered as a result of these closures. We're not talking here of somewhere like Cardiff or Swansea but of isolated places where the library is one of the focal points of the community. Now gone. And gone let's not forget from the action of a LABOUR council.

Let me tell you how bad a reputation this gave Rhondda Cynon Taff. I remember overhearing a conversation in Porthcawl library months ago where the librarian boasted that whatever problems the Bridgend libraries were having at least none of them had been closed . Trust me if there is a situation where Bridgend council can feel itself superior to its neighbours then something is very, very wrong.

I haven't yet received a response from my tweet. If I do I'll let you know.

Until the next time.

On The Best Books To Give For People Who Are Unwell

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Twitter can sometimes cause surprises even with regard to this blog. I hadn't thought of anything to post when I was chatting to people in it about books.

The other people involved in this converstion were @AnnaCaig ,@Efrogwraig and @MacdocLeonard (all rights reserved etc,etc).

The chat moved from being able to praise an author directly online after having read their work, to my doubts Miguel De Cervantes that, even by ouja twitter, he could use just 140 characters, to the relative merits of  Don Quixote, Miss Read and Jane Austen.

But what intrigued me the most was when @Efrogwraig advised that not only was @AnnaCaig a journalist writing a book column in the Sheffield Telegraph (and incidentally has a book blog https://murderundergroundbrokethecamel.wordpress.com) but also gave her books when unwell. Which got me thinking? What is the perfect book to give for someone who's ill?

In some respects I'm not the perfect person to have asked this. In my life I've been fortunate that only twice have I been in hospital as a patient. The first time aged four to take my tonsils out, the second to have my wisdom teeth extracted in my late twenties/early forties. I can't remember my four year old reading habit but books second time around took a back seat from recovering from the anaesthetic and listening on hospital radio to West Ham losing in the quarter final of the F A cup against Luton Town.

I do however remember having the flu in junior school and picking up Black Beauty by Anna Sewell to read sitting in an armchair and going through it pausing when everything seemed to be swirling around me. Praised this book in the past and won't repeat myself here except to say that on reflection perhaps the episodic nature of the story as different issues befall the eponymous horse made it easy for an ill boy to digest it all.

The worst place to answer this question is probably at a hospital shop. The last time I went inside one (daughter's physiotherapy for her knee) around January did have a look at the books on offer. Certainly it was a different selection than when the shop was owned by W H Smith. Then it seemed to be current bestsellers,what were bestsellers and what they seemed to hope would be bestsellers. Lots of thrillers by James Patterson (and one other) and Clive Cussler (and one other) adorned the shelves. To think I'm so old I can remember when Clive Cussler wrote rubbish thrillers by himself.

Now the books seem to be bestsellers of decades earlier. SS GB by Len Deighton (before the TV series - Am not a fan which I'll explain if I ever get to read another book by him again. Let's just say this cemented my dislike) and The Dead Of Jericho by the late Colin Dexter (I've read this and a few other Morse novels and, and I'm sorry to say this, the TV series was much, much better) were the titles that sprang to mind. But though the selection was interesting it didn't really seem to hit the right note.

So perhaps the answer lay in the one and only time I gave books to a person whilst they were in hospital. Over a decade ago a friend of ours was struck by an infection which though she is much better now has changed her life forever. At that time she was staying in a hospital in Llandough (near Cardiff  and funnily enough one of the places we're looking to move to now) for a number of weeks as I recall, and possibly even a few months.

Before going to visit her for the first time I was in the Waterstones bookshop in Cardiff having decided that grapes/flowers didn't really cut it as gifts given  the circumstance so decided to get her a couple of books instead. But for reasons that seem inexplicable to me then, let alone now, I bought a couple of gritty dark crime novels by Patricia Cornwell.

What made this decision odd was not only that these books were dark crime thrillers, not just that they were from her medical examiner Kay Scarpetta series to be read by a woman stuck in hospital for (then) an unknown period of time but also that I'd never read a Patricia Cornwell novel before....and indeed since.

(A quick aside here. The reason I've not read Patricia Cornwell is simply because there are so many books but so little time and they've simply not come up on the pile of the great unread. As to how do I know therefore that her novels are dark and gritty? Simple. I've judged a book by it's cover)

And the reaction of our friend? She has moaned about it to me ever since. Complaining that she so loved the thrillers she's had to buy every other Patricia Cornwell book including getting a hardback copy before the paperback came out. Unwittingly I had created a superfan. Ms Cornwell you don't have to thank me.

And the point to be made? Unless the person's condition is terminal perhaps the best book to buy an unwell person is one where people have worst problems than the recipient of the gift is facing. Like say danger on the streets....or death.

Until the next time.

How Renting Is Making Me Start To Learn French

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Yes I know. Those who read this blog yesterday will be reminded how constantly I say that I'm going to be learning languages mainly but circumstances (aka life) appear to conspire in my way.....well that's my excuse anyway.

But it occurred to me that since as a family it would be a renting we will go on moving from Bridgend to Penarth/surrounding area until the right place comes along then there will be moments where I'm going to be bored. Much as I like books you cannot read all the time, or watch sports, or even go out when the weather is bad.

There will moments of "family time". But shift work means that it might not actually exist to any extent than those ships that pass through the night. Also in daughter's case she has her "Bridgend" friends that she can speak to online as well as those ones she'll hopefully make in her new school. Also I am at that stage where the word "embarrassing" comes before "dad" in every other statement from her lips about me.

The point about renting though, is that things I could have done have been boxed/crated and will soon be warehoused. Opportunities to pass the time short of taking longer naps are actually limited. It then hit me.......learn French.

Now before you can say why not Welsh/Italian/any of the other languages I've been mentioning in the blog previously. Well French has the advantage that I've some residual knowledge dredged up from school as well as, crucially, that the Teach Yourself book I've got is in my Kindle (unlike for example all the Welsh books/papers which are crated in what was the dining room and now a storeroom as I speak).

Having already got the ebook, all I needed was to buy a binder, some lined paper,index tabs and it's just a case of allez.

As much as will be possible I'm going to try and get a French ambiance to get me in the mood. Listen to French radio, watch French TV/Films on Walter Presents/Netflix, take continental breakfasts, drink more coffee (though will never discard tea.....there are limits).

And it won't be the only language I will learn either. My new, even more revised, hopefully lifeproof plan is this. When we (eventually) move into somewhere more permanent will immediately learn Welsh as well and concentrate on these two until the beginning of 2019 when, adding on a yearly basis Gaelic, Italian, Polish and one other (not sure which one here). The aim is to gradually be fluent in six languages.

This is more than just brain food. As I mentioned when talking about Welsh but it applies to any European language you care to name learning a different tongue has become a political statement in the UK. Though in my case I've no wish to leave Britain (Wales....and preferably an independent Wales is my home) learning a language post Brexit means that you are saying there's a world beyond "the British way of life". Showing an interest beyond the right wing clichés marks you out as different. Someone who thinks that your mind should not be satisfied with .....insert reality TV show here.......until you die.

Until the next time.

A Metaphor For Labour In Wales

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Women eh? One minute they say that there won't be a general election until 2020 so you just go through your days assume the only political battle will be the local one come May. The next you're driving home after a trip to Lidls (Croissants - I'll explain why tomorrow - Instant Cappuchino - I'll explain why tomorrow too - Milk, 4 small bottles of water and Bananas) turn on the radio and find myself listening to an interview with a Tory MP.

So the interview is going on. Nigel Evans, Member of Parliament for Ribble Valley. A man who has always given me the impression that he'd wish he was English even though he was born in Wales.

(A quick aside here. Is it just me or do all Welsh Conservatives who make it in Westminster sound as if they've thrown their accent over the river once they've crossed the Severn bridge?)

Anyway there he is nattering away and it dawns on me all of a sudden that she's called an election. Thing is I suspect the Conservatives will win, and it'll be English votes that will sway it. I predict there would not be a Tory majority in the other three nations.

What that would mean though is that there would be a resentment in these other UK nations that Hard Brexit, with it's consequent jackboot politics fuelled by jackboot journalism is imposed. That alone will power a yes vote in Scotland in the next independent referendum.

Northern Ireland will be next. As the people there will realise what Hard Brexit will do with their lives and realise that there is a quick way back into the EU through reunification.

And as for Wales? Pro Brexit  Wales.Well when the consequences hit home there and good people start realising that they were misled (starting as I've said before with Bridgend where "control" has moved not to Westminster but Ford in Detroit). Then the independence movement will gather steam there as well.

Theresa May then, if I'm right, will be remembered as the Prime Minster who won an election but lost a Kingdom.

Anyway, the promised metaphor. had to go out again to the local store a five minute walk from where I live (forgotten the butter, or I can't believe it's not butter, or butter milk, or olive butter or anything that smooths the contents of a sandwich down my throat).

This building is along the route.

The Sadness of a Building That Can Remember Better Times

This building was the Ogmore and Vale local Labour Club. I never went inside but it was a big thing. Not only did it have a bar but also space that you could have a dance in if you were inclined. Indeed once a Strictly Come Dancing couple actually did a show there!

As they say that was during the glory days. It's been shut down and run down for roughly six years. It may be the biggest building on the block but as the picture shows it faces terminal decline. Whatever its achievements during the good times people do not have good words for the state it's in at the moment.

And that applies to Labour in Wales. Living off the past. I'll be voting Plaid Cymru in May and June (though in June it'll be somewhere else!)

Until the next time.

Treorchy Before I Die....Possibly

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

House news first. Six houses have been seen this weekend (it was meant to be seven but one, the one for me which I liked the most when I saw it online was sold before we were about to go out today) and none was liked by us all. So unless anything unexpected occurs a renting we will go.

Yesterday though we did nothing much except when friends, a couple from the legendary Rhondda Valley came round to visit. In the beginning it was to deliver some Easter eggs for my daughter but eventually it always develops into gossip as to how things are between us.

Normally the way things  turn the lady goes to chat with my wife whilst the gentleman and I watch some motorsport I've recorded for him. He is a fan, I'm more neutral. Today however all of us actually watched four episodes of the Welsh language channel's S4C programme Pobol Y Rhondda, Now it's second series it highlights the various interesting characters of that region, which as I've said before if you consider Wales as Italy with rain then this is the Welsh Tuscany.

To our friends it was a home movie full of people and places they recognised. I'd shown them the original series when that was on (they're not Welsh speakers) and they became fans. To my wife however it was a prompt to something I told her and indeed mentioned in this blog on Christmas day.

"My husband" she told them "has said that should I die before him he will move to Treorchy".

They turn and look a little surprised. You could tell from that comment that the wife was unimpressed when I told her this the first time. Suspect she thought it was rather ghoulish. Mind you in the scheme of things it's not as if I said that I was going to shack up with a woman half my age and we would perform sexual gymnastics to the limits that my heart and back would take me.

(Don't forget that this move to Penarth and the surrounding areas has been mainly been powered by the wife who gradually has been homesick for her homeland. As she was there for me (even when she didn't know it) when I suffered in silence from an agonising and paralysing depression on being unemployed I feel I owe her)

She had apparently also told this to some people in Cardiff/surrounding area who it appeared laughed at my plan. Wasn't bothered by this. There are some snobby people who consider a journey of over ten minutes from of the Welsh capital to be a trek outside of civilisation. And a journey to the Valleys? Why you need to hire Sherpas first.

The irony that they mocked my plan given that I'm a Londoner is not lost on me.

(And please note I said some snobby people. They are an extremely small minority. They do however exist)

The choice of Treorchy is simple. It's a town so in easy reach of shops. It also has a train station so if there came a time I was unable to drive would still would be able to travel. It is also, even from the town close to those Tuscan views that I treasure, but rarely in hot weather which I don't.

On reflection our friends were not surprised, They already knew how much I was a Valleys fan. What they did mention was that Treorchy is apparently considered the "posh" part of the Rhondda. Nearby Tonypandy has apparently experienced a marked decline. Last time I passed Tonypandy it was on a Bank holiday, shops were closed so couldn't really have an opinion.

Will it happen? Only the future will tell. Could be dead the moment I finish this post and just be marked as some deluded old romantic. The grass is always greener on the other side and in this case it's the green grass of the valley.

Until the next time.

A Woman With A Bruise In Her Eye

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Now I'm not going to lie to you. I've deliberately altered some of the facts so that the woman concerned and/or friends/family will not be sure that it's her I'm talking about. In it's essence though this is completely true.

So at work yesterday. Saturday. Nothing much really happens except that I was doing my job.

Then I saw her.

A description of the woman is unimportant. She could have been eighteen or eighty, have an hour glass figure or take an hour to walk around it does not matter. All that matters was her left bruised eye.

I have been (and I'm not sure it's best word to describe this) fortunate that outside television or newspapers never to have seen a person with a bruise on their face. So it came as a shock. The eye itself was puffed up cartoon style. Eyelid was almost totally olive green and underneath the eye was a large smear of purple bruise. Nobody that saw her could have avoided looking at it.

Asked what happened. She must have been used to this conversation for the past few days,but calmly and politely responded that she'd walked into a door that was suddenly swinging open. A lot of swearing her story continued then took place.

Now I'm not saying that the woman was lying. I have no idea. I'm not a detective. But you could not help but recalling stories of people, particularly women, who have bruises on their faces and put it down to unfortunate "accidents" when asked. Either from fear or embarrassment. But then there is a final blow,punch,strike which results in severe long term injury and sometimes even death.

Of course there was nothing I could do. Her position was clear. It was an accident and for all I knew that's all there was to it. It did occur to me though (and I admit that this idea is not thought through) that should anybody (woman, man, child) have a bruise on their face that the police are aware of then it should be put on a database for a six month period. After this period the information is wiped off the system unless another injury to the face is noticed between that time when the police would automatically investigate whatever story the injured person gave.

Would such an idea stop people who physically abuse others? Of course not. But if one menace is off the streets because of this then it would be worth it.

Until the next time.

The Post For Athiests,Henry James Doubters and Those Who Remember Alan Gilzein

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Let's start with some housekeeping, or rather housenotgetting news. The search continues. The reason why I haven't blogged for the past few days is that we were close to getting two houses, both which we had seen twice. Ultimately though the doubts that were niggling in our minds, one house for me, the other for the wife, stopped us from making an offer the buyer couldn't refuse.

In my case it was a house at the limits of our budget which still needed work on it and, more crucially, had the feel of needing work that we couldn't see. As for the wife she sees the next house as a final forever home and it was the steps on a tiered garden which was ultimately the dealbreaker. She could not see how it could be dealt with as we become more aged (remember should I outlive my wife this will not be my last house. Which is probably why this didn't enter my brain.Will move to the Rhondda Valley, particularly Treorchy and end my days in this classic example of Italy with rain).

This Easter weekend we are having a househunting binge in the Penarth and surrounding areas, four houses on Saturday, three on Monday. I say "we" because I'll be working on Saturday so a friend might accompany my wife and daughter then. If no house comes into play by the end of next weekend a renting we will go.

And as we're chatting about the Easter weekend (seamless or what?) I'm writing this post at 5:23am on Good Friday morning. I'm working two days on this holiday period, today and tomorrow. Other than not being able to view those four houses on Saturday I'm not bothered by this. I'm not religious, but it goes beyond that.....I'm an atheist.

From Catholicism to atheism in fifty three years, actually much earlier than that really, my forties. I just came to a point in my life when I saw the suffering in the world and thought " A God? Really?".

Do you know what the worst thing about being an atheist is? It's that if we're right and our literal lifetime guarantee expires, we can't gloat to those who believe and say "I told you so" as like an unfixable machine when you're gone you're gone.

Mind you should despite logic and science should those who believe in an afterlife are proved right they will have little time to gloat as given all the religions in the world there can only be one that's actually correct. For all we know people will enter an afterlife and find that all their beliefs have been an elaborate joke by Zeus.

On that basis it was probably a joke by Zeus that has me awake at this time on Good Friday when I'm working the afternoon/evening shift ............or led me to reading a collection of short stories by Henry James.

This was, let me stress again, the first book by Henry James I've ever read. Also,
if you're a regular reader of this blog you'll know that I can dislike one book by a writer and like the next. That said it was the most pointless book I've read this year so far and definitely the most disappointing.

Nothing much happens and I'm including any Katherine Mansfield style nuance in that as well. My one thought as I was reading this was "Is that all there is"?

The next book could not have been more different. In Search Of Alan Gilzean by James Morgan. Gilzean was a footballer who played for Dundee and (how I remember him through the nostalgic prism of childhood) Tottenham in the sixties and seventies. Now I'm West Ham till I die (with no afterlife remember) but I did enjoy watching Spurs in that period. They played with a sort of elan, an enthusiasm which reminded me of how you felt playing football at school....just with a bit more skilll.
Gilzein, along with the likes of Martin Chivers and Steve Perryman was synonymous with that period, and although they were not as successful as their North London rivals Arsenal they're probably (with the exception of Bob Wilson) remembered more fondly to the neutral.

The mystery with Alan Gilzein is what happened to him after he left football. No one apparently knew. He was, as the saying goes, "off the radar".

It's this that makes this book different because essentially it's two stories entwined into one. Firstly it's a football biography and a good one at that as it reveals a complex character that footballing history has seemed to have underrated. Secondly though it's a detective story as we follow the author as he seeks to find out what's happened to his subject. He mixes these strands well. It's a good read and I do recommend it.

So the book I'm now starting to read is Don Quixote by Miguel De Cervantes. It was chosen randomly though it seems to be a bit current now given the arguments re Spain/Gibraltar. I'm not sure where I stand on Gibraltar. Except to say that given the way Britain is becoming a cold and cruel country particularly post Brexit perhaps they should look again at Spain should the rise of jackboot politics/journalism continue.

Until the next time.

A Touch Of The Bios

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I've said it before, and I'll probably bore everyone again until we actually move, but this twilight zone period of packing everything but essentials until it has taken place has meant an increase in my reading.

In a period of twenty four hours since my previous post I've finished two books, (though as I'll explain later there is a particular reason re one of them) both biographies.

The Life of Mrs Robert Louis Stevenson by Nellie Van De Grift Sanchez was a pleasant enough read. The author was the sister of the subject (and let's as we should name her Frances Matilda Van De Grift) so we were unlikely from the start to get anything resembling "Whilst Robert was writing famous novels Frances would amuse herself by flower arranging and shooting arrows at stray dogs".

What you get is an author who seemed to genuinely care for her sister and a life that was not without its problems but had a genuine love affair in its core. It's not going to be the best biography that you'll ever read but I don't think you'll regret having done so.

The other book turned out to be the autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. Probably the oldest autobiography I've ever read. It was also not that big a read.

As I was swiping the pages I was thinking, his early life is all very well but where are the juicy bits? Where is the "MY BATTLE WITH THE BRITS" or "CARNAGE IN DRAWING THE CONSTITUTION - I told Jefferson gun control checks were important?" It wasn't until very late in the book was there any mention of his experiments with electricity.

The real shock though came at the end. As I was wondering what was going on the last page revealed....that it was unfinished. I'm assuming because he died.

This was a free book, that said I did feel a bit short changed. What I read was not that interesting and didn't really explain what lead him to fight a war of independence. In a parallel universe there is I suspect a more complete and fascinating book, just not this one.

The next book on the list is a collection of short stories by Henry James. I must admit that this will be the first book I've ever read by him. He's the sort of author I've always been meaning to read but life interfered....until now.

Until the next time.

In Which I Chat About Jane Austen,Rugby, RLS' Wife, Houses And The Disappearance Of Barry Town FC

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I woke up on Saturday, unwillingly you understand, at quarter to four in the morning. And after making a cup of tea did what I tend to do often now. Read. so Emma by Jane Austen was finished.

Speaking as I can now do,with the vast experience of having reading one of her novels, is that Jane Austen moves in with F Scott Fitzgerald and Anton Chekhov as a writer with whom I'm in literary Switzerland about. She is certainly readable. But I don't understand how she can be considered "great".

As I explained previously being neutral on a writer is a difficult position to be in. If only because not disliking one means that you can't shake off the feeling that you might be missing something. What I especially don't understand is why she's stood the test of time especially when compared to writers like the Brontes or George Eliot. But then again what do I know being a man?

The next book on the great ebook unread was Rugby Union Basics For Dummies in a day by Nick Cain and Greg Growden. It was free and to be honest after reading it was probably the best thing about it. I learnt very little about a sport whose rules I've only gleaned through osmosis. Anyway it was finished. Two books done in a day.

Did you know that Robert Louis Stevenson's wife was American? I didn't. But it's the first thing I've learnt in the latest book I'm reading The Life of Mrs Robert Louis Stevenson by his wife's sister Nellie Van De Grift Sanchez. So far so good.

On the house searching front went to see two today. Both seem genuine contenders. Wife and I are going to spend the weekend thinking this one through. We might offer on Monday. More then.

After that was done we went to see a friend who lives in Barry. She and the wife I knew would spend the afternoon chatting about the houses we've seen and the general moving situation. Knew I'd be bored.What to do?

But then a solution occurred to me. Our friend lived near Jenner Park, home of the Welsh league side Barry Town FC. As there were no more houses to watch I'd get daughter to go online, check and if they were playing at home and go off to the game.

This was done. The internet was clear. Barry Town FC would be playing Goytre United FC at two thirty. I'd be a little late, but I'd not been able to watch football for a while so it would give me a little break from everything that's swirling my beleaguered brain with regard to moving house and finding one to live in.

It wouldn't have been the first time I've been to Jenner Park. When I was courting my wife and I did crosscountry courting with my wife between South Wales and Essex (A real Gavin Stacey moment) her uncle (even more Gavin/Stacey like), a good man now sadly passed away took me to a match there between Barry Town and Flint Town FC.

I'd learnt two things from that game. One that Welsh football went far beyond Cardiff,Swansea Wrexham and Newport and the other was that Flint Town taught me that dependent on exactly where you are the North Walian accent could have a trace of Scouse on it.

As I was closer to the ground heard no sounds of a match or saw supporters moving in. Noticed ticket offices being boarded up, Eventually from a small gap I'd noticed....no football...indeed not even passing birds on the pitch. As I said on my return to our friends' house wherever Barry Town were playing it was not Jenner Park.

Further investigations by daughter revealed the phrase "venue to be decided" on the internet. I found out later that they'd played Goytre United at Goytre's ground. The opposite fixture will be next Saturday, useless to me as I'll be working.

Ah well...

Until the next time,

How Moving House Has Increased My Reading And Measuring Male Maturity Through Jane Austin

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

There is a twilight zone stage that me and my family are living in at the moment. Preparing for the move though it will be a number of weeks ahead so that a lot of things have been boxed, crated, charity shopped or just thrown away at the local tip. A consequence of which is that circumstances throw themselves up with unexpected results.

It's five o'clock this (Tuesday) morning. Exactly one hour before I wanted to get up. Nothing to watch on TV either recorded or live (which seem to be plastered with people trying to sell you cooking gadgets you'll rarely use, cleaning gadgets you'll rarely use or get into some rigorous training DVDs that I'm sure will lead me to a six pack and heart failure The DVD/discs are crated, as are the paper books. Nothing else to do for that hour than read on my Kindle (other e readers are available).

Before I wouldn't have considered reading at this hour, certainly not a paper book, as it's not comfortable for my eyes. But given the back light there's no problem here.

So Amazon (and the companies that sell the other e readers that are available) there's a whole new market of people to flog your wares to. Those who want to read but can't get at their paper books....you're welcome....a free gift voucher would suffice.

The book I finished this morning was H G Wells' 1899 novel When The Sleeper Awakes. The first thing to say about this is that the only way you can read it is by suspending your disbelief to such a level you'll consider when finishing taking up high wire lessons. The plot can only be described as bonkers. Starting from the fact that we have to believe that not only can a man survive two hundred years in a trance but doesn't age either!

The other thing you need to abandon when reading the book is the thought that in essence H G Wells is rehashing the plot from the earlier novel  The Time Machine (Victorian gent in the future having to deal with the society there).

It is readable....just. It's also in parts racist. The "N" word was mentioned twice. This was both unexpected and unwelcome.

Next I read Emile Zola's short story The Flood (I know, never read him before and he comes into my life twice in a week). I won't go into the plot other than what's obvious from the title. What I will say is that if you're not moved after having read this you've a heart of stone and probably a member of UKIP.

And so to the current book I'm reading. Emma by Jane Austen. It's the first Austen book I've ever read (though some paper books are in the great crated unread.

It's funny how my attitude to Austen has changed even though I've never read her work before. As a child soon to be a teenager I rejected her because she was "just for girls". As a teenager/twenties I wouldn't read her because she seemed to be the thinking woman's Mills and Boon.

(As an aside I wouldn't condemn my past self for that view. I've written before how I believe that some female writers would have a far greater male readership if the covers didn't give men the wrong impression about their work. Marian Keyes is a recent example, though at the time Georgette Heyer and Norah Lofts were rejected by me exactly because their covers reminded me of Mills and Boon)

In my thirties and forties I had acknowledged that she was worth reading but life and other books always seemed to come before her. Now, in the age of fifty three, being I suspect the only man outside of publishing who has read a Georgette Heyer novel first Jane Austen has arrived in my life.

Hope I like it.

Until the next time.

In Which My Edgar Wallace Amensia Is Cured......Unfortunately

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

You may recall that when mentioning that next book on great ebook unread was The Keepers Of The Kings Peace by Edgar Wallace I said two particular things. One was that I'd no idea of the plot (as the book was free and by a writer I'd heard of I was happy to obtain it) and that the last Edgar Wallace book I'd read was so long ago (decades in fact - the nineteen eighties) I had forgotten what my opinion of it was.

Well that's now changed. Perhaps it was literary shock therapy but everything bar the title of the book I'd read in the eighties (bought for twenty pence in Wanstead Library....I remember that now!) has come back.

The Keepers Of The Kings Peace was written in 1917 and is part of the Saunders of the River series about a commissioner of a British African colony. That sentence alone should tell you where its political thoughts lie. Essentially it's a group of short stories showing how Saunders and his lieutenant "Bones" deal with various problems whilst ruling "the natives" but always having time for a spot of tiffin

And as the above paragraph suggests it's racist in the patronising "We've taken over your country and will now teach you our superior way of life" sort of way. The one white woman in the story is described as more beautiful than the native women and in most of the stories the dealings between the British and the local people are really like between master and servant.

The "N" word is used three times though to be fair twice by a villain.

But even if we leave aside the imperialism and racism (!!) the book also jogged my memory as to why I didn't like the thriller I'd read all those (many) years ago. For whilst I wouldn't go as far as to say it was dull it's only a few notches above that. Pedestrian is the best word to describe it when I would have been perfectly happy if it had just been on an urban speed limit.

What it reminded me of was that the thriller I'd read had no nuance, no danger, no thrill. A problem was seen,and dealt with and that was it. Exactly the same thing here. There was no sense that "the British" were going to emerge from this damaged in any way. It was just so predictable.

So then, a book for Edgar Wallace fans or those Brexiteers who think that a better union than the EU is to create a British Empire Mark 2 starting with Spain. Everyone else should avoid.

Whether this is because of Edgar Wallace's reputation as a writer who churned books like factories produce cars I don't know. What I do know is that compared to the other writer I've read with a similar reputation for producing many books, George Simenon, Edgar Wallace trails far,far behind.

Perhaps some memories are best left forgotten.

The next ebook from the great unread is When The Sleeper Awakes by H G Wells. My view on H G Wells is mixed but what makes this book interesting is that I never heard of it before downloading it.

Until the next time.

Until the

Bridgend Town: An Addendum

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I had honestly not intended to write anything further about Bridgend Town since my last piece. Even though the house move will be later than originally anticipated I'd assume that it would not disintegrate further.

Well I was wrong. So wrong that I didn't have enough charge on my phone to take pictures of shops that have apparently closed down since the last post, so you'll have to take my word for it.

I was in the town today as had to give the solicitor a copy of the gas heating certificate for the house. Whilst driving towards the centre on its outskirts, literally a traffic light system throw away, I noticed that a shop that sold double glazed windows was closed. And when I say closed, I mean gutted of almost everything that was in there, including a lifesized cardboard cut out of ex snooker player Steve Davis, dressed in all his snookery finery.

There is also a possibility that two other shops in the town centre that I'd noticed the shutters were down at eleven o'clock on a Monday morning have also closed down permanently. I say "possibility" because there wasn't enough time for me to check and see whether it was just closed today for some reason (like a funeral). Should I return to Bridgend Town for some reason I'll double check on this. It's why I would not have posted pictures of those shops today anyway.

So, one more shop definitely closed down with the possibility of a further two as well. With every day that passes Bridgend Town seems to slowly die before your eyes and yet nobody in positions of power seem to be helping it in any way whatsoever.

Bridgend Town will soon be described, if it hasn't been already, as an urban tragedy.

Until the next time.

The Importance Of Being Ernest Alfred Viztelly

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I've finished reading With Zola in England by Ernest Alfred Viztelly. An account of Zola's exile in England when he was being arrested in France for the Dreyfus affair which was published in 1899.

The book is an amalgam of articles Viztelly, a journalist, wrote about how he helped Zola in this time in the London Evening News.

It was an interesting read in many ways. It's Victorian Britain yet there are still issues of media attention as well as the fear of Zola being apprehended against his will and taken back home to France.

But what makes this book really important is when you compare the attitudes of turn of the century Britain to the present day. Whilst obviously Zola is a "celebrity", did not have a physically (though obviously emotionally) traumatic journey to England, had rich friends to help him and was living in relative comfort it is still the case that this was a Britain that took in asylum seekers.

If Zola had lived today the jackboot media would have questioned why he was in Britain, mocked any friends that dared to assist this drain on Britain's resources, would have made anywhere he resided appear like Buckingham Palace, condemned his lack of English and would have only welcomed him if he attacked the European union from the highest mountain.

What this would have done is that less people would have helped him settle in a foreign land and the jackboot journalism rabble rousing would have also made him venerable to abuse and possible attack from the feral amongst us.

For obviously accepting that security checks on asylum seekers need to made the attitude of Britain now to asylum seekers is cold and cruel. It will also damage Britain in the long term in the eyes of the rest of the world.

Britain was the country that let in Karl Marx. It will be given no marks for what it's doing now.

So Ernest Alfred Viztelly, a man who was proud of Britain's then attitude to asylum seekers and who helped a friend in need.He is the type of Great Briton that we should follow.

The next book on the great ebook unread is Keeper Of The Peace by Edgar Wallace. It's not clear what the plot's about and I must admit that it's a long time since I've read an Edgar Wallace book (such a long time ago I can't remember what I thought of it) so am curious to read one now.

Until the next time.

Hooked On Classics (2) and The Great EBook Buying Game (2)

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well I've finished reading The Garden Party and Other Stories by Katherine Mansfield and to be honest I was stunned.

These stories are very clever. Nothing much happens, no literary eqvilant of melodramatic music will enter your heads as you read them. The characters appear to live comfortable lives. And yet slowly she reveals people who are walking around in a state of quiet sadness.

You the reader are embroiled in the lives of these people for a brief while, but are affected by it.

It was quite simply the best collection of short stories that I've ever read.

The next ebook . Got for reasons of cheapness (it was free) is With Zola in England by Ernest Alfred Vizetelly. It was Viztelly's (who was apparently a journalist in the old London Evening News) account of the time in exile of Emile Zola in England (in a time when Britain accepted people who fled their country of origin for political reasons) having left France to avoid imprisonment for his actions on the "Dreyfus Affair". So far so good.

As all my paper books are now boxed, crated etc in preparation for the move you may remember that I created what I'm now calling The Great Ebook Buying Game (given now the fashion is to title everything "great". From baking shows to Acts of Parilament that will turn Britain into some right wing wet dream).

Given that I'm not buying anymore paper books until we permantly move house. This temporary monthly game is simply seeing how many ebooks I can buy on Amazon for £5. I'm doing this as I'm writing this post now. So let's see what happens.

I go to the Amazon "Daily Deals" One of them looks Chick Lit stuff, one of them is George Orwell's Animal Farm (have read that) and the remaining one is The Humans by Matt Haig. It seems interesting enough. So it's bought at 99p.

Looked at "Recommended reads" for me by Amazon. Nothing grabs my attention. Then time for the 250 books they're offering for 99p. I stop at Absolute Friends by John Le Carre. You know I haven't read Le Carre in years. Bought.

Amazon then offer more "Recommended Reads" suggested by my purchase of the Le Carre. I stop at a biography of the Italian fascist poet Gabriele D'Annuzio. by Lucy Hughes-Hallett. I think about this one long and hard. Eventually I decide to buy it. There is a rise of the extreme right in Britain, I'm curious to know what turns people that way. Bought for 99p.

Looking further at the Recommended reads following my purchase of the biography leads me for some reason to the novel Main Street by Sinclair Lewis. It's just 75p. Bought. This leads me to yet another Sinclair Lewis book Babbitt at just 49p. Bought.I have 79p left. So I go for another Sinclair Lewis book Free Air at 75p. Today then has become Sinclair Lewis day.

Until the next time.