Category: Review (Page 1 of 133)

3.5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

The story opens with an account of a man being hanged for murder. The narrator describes him as the best man he has ever known. A question forms in my mind: why would a man described as being like this be executed for murder? Intriguing.

The narrator and the man facing execution, John Travers, have a friendship that goes back to childhood. Tragic circumstances meant that they both moved back to the UK, having been in India. They were living in Surrey and were as close as brothers. They both applied to Sandhurst together.

The narrator, Tom Toogood, is then best man for Travers when he marries Muriel. It was at this point that he first met Muriel’s mother, Helga, too, and she was a woman that he had some strong opinions about.

Now they were married, he left them to get on with their lives, and they slowly drifted apart as friends. One day, out of the blue, he received a telegram from John saying:

MURIEL SERIOUSLY ILL THINK MENTAL HEALTH

FOR GOD’S SAKE COME AT ONCE. JOHN

He hurried to their house in Bournemouth where he found both John and Muriel ill. Helga was caring for them and really didn’t want to see Tom, a doctor now, there at all. It was a strange set of circumstances, and as he began to unpick what was going on, it would become stranger still.

The complex relationship between the four main characters unfolds and unravels as the story’s pace quickens. And I am not going to add any more than that, as it will spoil the story…

I thought that this was a fairly good book, even though it is pretty predictable. But even though I guessed what had happened, the how and why of how the author got us from the opening scene to the dramatic ending is what made the book for me. It can be very dark at times; after all, it is a very early example of a psychological thriller, but I didn’t find it that scary. What I would say, particularly on this edition, is to read the introduction after you have read the book. However, the author does say when to stop reading it, and when to read the story.

4 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

Contrary to my initial expectations, Mister Peacock is not a bird. Rather, he is a crocodile. And a big one at that; fifteen feet long and supposedly of a great age. The pool he lives in is by Mangho Pir’s Shrine, a space that was originally shared by both pilgrims and crocodiles, however after a few incidents, a wall was erected so pilgrims could undertake their rituals without being eaten.
It is an auspicious start to Mayne’s explorations of the saints and mystical Sufi shrines of the Indus valley in Pakistan.

Mayne takes the train to Sehwan; he is heading to the house of Pir Gul Muhammad Shah, after a distinguished gentleman promised him an introduction. Alighting from the train, he finds a tonga driver and asks him to take him to the address.

Arriving outside, he is hoping that the introduction letter has arrived prior to him, if not he will be looking for other accommodation. It had and he was welcomed and put up in the Otaq, a guest house that is separate from the main accommodation. He is keen to get on and see the sign, but as an honoured guest, he has to be attended by servants who are there to cater for his every need.

He does eventually make it to the shrine and manages to sit contemplating life the universe and everything, while watching specks of dust floating in the beams of sunlight streaming through. The place is really busy, with lots of people popping in for their own reflective moments. It is so relaxing that he dozes for while, before a cleaner comes and moves him on.

While his appreciates the accommodation, it is not the easiest place to stay. He tries to get out when possible and walks around the town and then out to another tomb that overlooks a dried riverbed. After a short while, he makes the decision to leave and shocks his hosts. They think that he is unwell and call in a masseur to care a treat him. Mayne is slightly intimidated by the size of the guy who turns up, but makes to make his excuses and leaves.

Following a conversation about hermaphrodites with a man called Terence, Mayne goes to the Ghazi Baba Shrine next. He passes and dervish on the way in, and climbs up past a tree that is filled with all manner of objects throughout its branches.

The next shrine is laid out in a style similar to the others that he has seen in the region. The only difference with this shrine is that the wind causes it to vibrate and resonate. He sits with the dervish for a while contemplating life, and then the Pir Sahib arrives. He insists on showing Mayne around.

Mayne’s next shrine is Pagàro. He had visited it first a while ago. He feels it is a dead place; the few people there are reluctant to engage with a stranger like him. The courtyard is empty and he imagines what it would be like if it was full of people noise and smells. The absence of people didn’t stop it having an element of magic of its own.

This time the 7th Pir had sent a jeep to bring him over. The road there is very dusty and on the journey, him and his companions slowly get paler and paler as the dust settles on them. He settles into the modest accommodation provided. He is soon called for to meet his host, but he ends up sitting and waiting two hours, so decides to go for a walk around the village instead.
The 6th Pir Pagàro had immense power and Mayne takes time to in the book to expand on the history of the man, including much about his imprisonment and subsequent release. However, the man still craved ultimate power and that would be his undoing.

Mayne returned from his walk and still ended up waiting for s short while before being informed that the Pir was now ready to see him. He was a large man who had a calm authority about him.
Mayne heads to a train station, but knowing that there isn’t going to be a train for a while, decides to take a walk. He ends up at Massum’s Tower, where he took the opportunity to climb it to see over the city of Sukkur. He goes for a coffee and ends up bumping into Kaka Sahib. They stop for food and have a long discussion about various things.

I thought that this was a fascinating journey into Pakistan in the 1950s. Mayne is an empathic traveller, curious about the people of the region and their ways. He immerses himself in their way of life with the hope of learning much more about them. Being able to speak the language, means that he brings an extra insight to the narrative that we wouldn’t necessarily get with other travellers and authors. I liked this a lot and thing it is well worth reading.

3 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

On a hot, still evening at dusk, a woman leaves her house to go out for a walk. After a while, she hears someone coming up behind her. The figure passes quickly. She notices that they are wearing a grey cloak, but there are no other recognisable features.

She returns to her house, only to find this figure in the grey cloak in her porch. It is then that she realises that the figure in the cloak is a woman. She sees her reach out and touch the window, before suddenly turning round and walking quickly down the path, past where she is standing.

As she approaches her front door and opens it. Then she sees what the figure in the porch had been looking at. There are men with her husband looking at a skeleton on the table. She goes into the room to find out what is going on, and it turns out these remains were discovered under a wall, and there was a lead tablet with an inscription on.

She knows some of the men around the table, one of whom she knew very well from her past. Soon after she joins them, he talks to her over coffee separately; she humours him a little, but it is a past that she doesn’t want to return to.

After the gathering, they box the bones up carefully, and two of the men carry the bones back to another house. As they walk, they are aware of another person or presence near them, but they can’t see anybody.

Over the next few days, the summer heat builds and builds and reaches unbearable levels. Everyone in the town is a bit frazzled and on edge. More and more residents are seeing the figure in the grey cloak, and they walk around the town, and it is beginning to unnerve some people. The tension increases with the heat.

There were parts of this story that I liked a lot. The archaeological mystery, the tensions between the characters and the mysterious haunting. The author has made the story very atmospheric, and the plot could be a little unnerving at times. I did think that it had some flaws though; there was a plethora of characters, and perhaps because I wasn’t fully engaged with it meant that I couldn’t always work out who was who in the plot. I don’t mind books where the author has a range of characters, including some that you are not supposed to like, but I did think that most characters in here were insufferable. However, this may have been the author’s intention! Not a bad read overall.

4 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

Water on Earth (that sounds really strange now I have written it) is here for good. It was thought that water had originally been brought in from meteorites many aeons ago. The majority of the water on this planet is salt water, with only a tiny proportion being fresh, and the water cycle is almost completely a closed system. Almost every single drop of water that has been formed is still around, bar those that have been split to extract the hydrogen. Though, when that it burnt, they reform to make new water molecules.

Rutt begins his book by travelling to the source of three of Scotland’s rivers, the Annan, The Tween and The Clyde. They tame the rain in the Scottish hills and funnel it on the path of least resistance. But the initial source for these rivers is the water that is forced from the ground.

“I am the river, the river is me – Ko au te awa, ko te awa ko au” – Māori proverb

Rutt hasn’t fished since he was 14 years old. Now he is pulling on a set of waders to go and stand in a cold river in a futile attempt to catch fish. Soon after he wades is, the bailiff turns up, but he thankfully has the correct permits. The act of standing in the river and being very still, gives his mind a chance to wander. He considers the river he is sure is leaking through his waders and the state of the rivers across the country after many years of private business putting profits way above less significant things such as public health, environment and cleanliness…

The metaphorical drop of water that Rutt is following has reached the lower reaches of the Clyde. The initial rapid descent is tempered by the slope and the vast increase in the volume of water flowing in the river; it has slowed significantly and meanders across the landscape.

This river, which could be considered a living entity (No, I’ve not read Is A River Alive yet!!) has not reached the point where humans have done their worst in it. There is heavy metal pollution, debris and as is common in most rivers now, raw sewage. This long buried industrial waste leaches out into the burns and turns them a horrid lurid green. Somehow, some wildlife survives this constant assault, but the river is pushed to its limits. The decline is locked in, and we will all be poorer when species go extinct.

Rutt’s water drop is lifted up by the process of evaporation. It spends some time floating around the atmosphere for a while before becoming a raindrop and falling into a nearby Loch. This will become its home for around two years. These bodies of water are transient, but over a much longer timescale than rivers. They collect every drop of water from the surrounding area, and with that comes runoff and other pollutants. It makes for grim reading.

In an unexpected turn of events, the water droplet evaporates again and heads to the south of the UK. Landing on the chalk downlands of the southern hills, it is filtered and flows out into one of the gin-clear chalk streams of England.

We are fortunate to have 85% of the entire world’s chalk streams. We have a chalk stream that flows through the middle of Wimborne, The Allen, and if you haven’t seen one, then they are a beautiful natural stream. Fortunately for Rutt, his cousin Lizzie works with degraded chalk streams in Hertfordshire. It is quite sad to know that a job like this exists, mostly because there are an awful lot of degraded chalk streams in the country now. Bloody water companies…

Just hearing the word bog brings back all the horrors of school toilets from my childhood. However, the bogs that Rutt is describing are full of sphagnum moss and lots of water. These bogs cover vast swathes of Scotland and Ireland and hold vast quantities of carbon. Or they do, unless we bugger around with them and then, guess what we’ve been doing…

Rutt’s next chapter is in his home stamping ground, the Fens. This part of the country is so flat that even speed bumps have contour lines. It has been drained and flooded on a regular basis over hundreds of years. The latest trend is rewilding, but that has a knock-on effect on people and the local economy. There are precious few jobs in the region anyway, and the possible loss of more makes for difficult choices by stakeholders in the area.

In Rutt’s penultimate chapter, he tentatively ventures out onto salt marsh. This liminal landscape is not quite land, not quite river and not quite sea. He joins Elizabeth Tindall on the marsh at Wigtown. She almost glides across the mud, but Rutt is far less elegant, with a lot of windmilling of his arms to stop himself falling flat on his face. He does get the technique in the end though. Like bogs, salt marshes are great carbon sinks, and boy, do we need them at the moment. Sadly, some developers think these places are a great place to build houses on.

I thought that this was a fascinating book about the circuitous route that this drop of water takes from the source of a river all the way down to the sea. As with his other books, Rutt is an entertaining and engaging writer. He teases out all sorts of facts, details and anecdotes to add depth to the narrative. Well worth reading, and when you have finished this go and read his earlier books.

4.5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

In 1991, the former USSR imploded. The Cold War and the chilling prospect of mutually assured destruction vanished. Almost all the world collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

The fourteen states that had been under the umbrella of the Soviet state suddenly were on their own. As geopolitical events go, it was pretty big, and for the countries that gained their independence at that time, it was enormous.

Thirty-five years later, and the world has changed again. The KGB officer, Putin, who once drove taxis to make ends meet, now has Russia in an iron grip. Some of the states that came out of the USSR have stumbled into democracy, and others have maintained authoritarian rule. Putin thought that the collapse of the USSR was “worst geopolitical catastrophe of the 20th century,” and has begun the process of bringing these wayward states back into the fold of Mother Russia, beginning with Ukraine.

Barnes starts the journey in Russia, and the first country after that is Armenia. It took a while to journey from an authoritarian state to a slightly shonky democracy. They have not had a peaceful transition, either, having had battles with their neighbours, Azerbaijan, some of which they have won and some of which they have lost. It seems settled now, though. The people Barnes meets are warm and generous, even thought have suffered as their country transitioned from Soviet satellite to the present day. He gets thoroughly beaten at chess whilst there and drinks far more than is healthy for his liver.

In Azerbaijan, he arrives as the Formula 1 circus is in town. It is simultaneously a palaver and good for his soul. To have the race in the country is not cheap, and the repayment of this ‘investment’ is a long time. But Azerbaijan is an oil state and authoritarian to boot, so they do not really care what the population thinks.

His comparison of Azerbaijan taxi drivers is very accurate and also very amusing, but he recommends taking the bus from the airport to the capital. The Aliyev family have held onto power for years, and in the last election, by some kind of miracle, ‘won’ with 76% of the vote. I find it amazing how these things work sometimes…

Even though the oil revenues should have made the country prosperous, the fundamentally corrupt administration makes sure this doesn’t happen. The poverty he sees as he travels on a very swish Swiss train is very much in your face.

Georgia is about the same size as Scotland. It has a range of high mountains, and as Barnes points out, much better weather… It is thronging with visitors there for the sunshine. The climate is ideal for vines, and there is evidence of winemaking that can be dated back 8000 years.

Georgia’s transition from Soviet state to self-governing country was not entirely smooth, but the bloodless Rose Revolution helped with that, much to the consternation of the Kremlin. They want to join the EU and are very much concerned about Russian ambitions as they watch the ongoing conflict in Ukraine. It is a reminder of their own clashes with Russia in the past.

There is also the long shadow of Stalin that hangs over the country. He was a monster of a dictator in so many ways, and yet some still hold him in awe, and even believe that a similar strong-armed leader would benefit the country even now.

It is staggering just how big Kazakhstan is. It has an area larger than Western Europe, and it is sparsely populated; on the steppe, there is virtually nothing there, bar the odd horse. One of the gulags made by the Soviets for dispatching people they considered to be trouble was only slightly smaller than Wales!!

They have been a nomadic people for a long time, moving across the steppe and using resources at a place before moving on again. This lifestyle has changed with the influx of Russian and other European people, and cities have now been built. The state is very oil-rich, and those revenues paid for those cities and lots of monuments. They do like their monuments…

After the vastness of Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan feels tiny. It became independent in 1991 and has managed to stay fairly democratic since. Every time the politicians lurch towards authoritarianism, the people have a revolution to remove them. It obviously works as they have had three so far, and from what Barnes can ascertain, there may be another fairly soon.
Even though the Soviets controlled the country and created the borders, their influence wasn’t that strong. It still has an authentic feel about it, and Barnes thinks that the mountains there are stunning.

Uzbekistan is an Islamic state and, given its problematic neighbours, is fairly well defended. This double landlocked country has had a long and troubled history. It still has a traditional culture, or as one of the people that Barnes knows, describes it as backwards. The city of Tashkent is a little more progressive, though.

He takes a high-speed train to Samarkand. This city was made wealthy and famous by a guy called Timur. He was a warrior, and he and his armies killed a lot of people in their time, so much so that they used to pile the skulls of their enemies up really high.

Tajikistan is another tiny state with a megalomaniac as a political leader. It is a poor country too, and the poverty runs deep there. Barnes stays with the family of someone he had met in China. He drinks a lot of what they call ‘white tea’ and wakes the following morning with a horrendous hangover…

Turkmenistan is an amalgamation of a lot of the other countries that Barnes has passed through, with the added bonus of being even more of a regressive police state than some of the others. Great…

It took a while to get a visa to visit, not helped by a global pandemic and the regime not being particularly helpful in assisting him. He must have the patience of a saint, as he did get there in the end and didn’t give up. Whilst there, he has to be accompanied by an official guide. They have a fixed itinerary, and he has almost no connection to the outside world other than through email. Oh, the joys of living under a dictator…

He is partnered with a French guy, who has supposedly visited 180 countries and is still only in his 30s! Somehow, Barnes does manage to wangle some free time away from his guide, but not much. He does take away a strong impression of the country, though.

Belarus was described by one guy that Barnes meets as being full of thugs and yokels. He doesn’t find this, but it is another state that has had the dubious pleasure of living under a dictator. For a police state, there is a refreshing lack of uniformed officers around, which suggests a low crime country, or that most police are in plain clothes. There are rules of what you can and can’t say in the country, so I am guessing it is the latter. It still has very close ties to Russia still and of all the countries that he has visited so far in the book, it feels the most Soviet like.

Up until now, every country has had a chapter each. For Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, though, Barnes has included them all in one chapter together. It is a little disappointing, but I do kind of get why, too. They have all followed a similar path: joining the EU and NATO, loathing Russia in its present form and having a very smooth transition to democracy. They are all even less corrupt than the UK, a fact that I am not that unsurprised about, really.

The last book I read on Moldova was Tony Hawks, Playing the Moldavians at Tennis. It was very amusing, but I didn’t really learn that much about the country or the people. It is a landlocked country stuck between Russia and Ukraine, which is not the best place to be. Thankfully, Barnes is a little more expansive on his travels there, so I did get more of a feel for the country.
They have been arguing for ages whether they speak Moldavian or Romanian there. It changes like the wind, but the funny thing is, they are both exactly the same language! On top of that, there is this thin strip of land, called Transnistria, between Moldova and Ukraine, that declared independence when the USSR collapsed. Mad eh?

He reserves his final chapter in the book for Ukraine. The state is currently at war with Russia as Putin tries to bring the former Soviet states back under his iron rule. It is a conflict that has been going on for five years as I write this, and Ukraine is not rolling over in submission, and is punching back very hard with European support. Sadly, no one can rely on America anymore.

I thought that this was a fascinating trip around the old Soviet bloc. Barnes does a good job of highlighting the contrasts between the countries that have embraced their new freedoms and democracy and those that are still stuck under the control of a dictator. I really liked his writing style; he is curious, keenly observant, self-deprecating and often amusing in the book. I thought it was well worth reading, and if you have any interest in Russian history and current geopolitics, then give it a go.

3.5 out of 5 stars

The author provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

No one really knows just how many psychopaths there are out there. You may not know one, but you have almost certainly met some, or probably worked with a number. Most of them aren’t the axe-wielding type (thankfully). But they could be. And that is what makes them terrifying!

What are the traits that make it obvious that there is a psychopath in amongst your friends, colleagues or other associates? Anderson tries to answer that question by listing and detailing the ‘twelve treats’ that he feels all psychopaths have to possess. To be brutally honest, the twelve traits that he lists are what I would consider significant character flaws, and the people that he uses for examples are a fairly unsavoury bunch.

He poses the question: are corporations psychopathic? Whilst some companies are good, and have clauses in their constitutions, most have a sole aim, and that is to make as much money as possible for their shareholders and owners. They are legal entities too, which give them certain benefits and privileges; however, they have none of the human characteristics of remorse, empathy or guilt. This company philosophy permeates the entire organisation, changing the staff to narcissists and psychopaths as they emulate the behaviour.

To become a leading psychopath involves planning. And chutzpah, a lot of chutzpah. Anderson proposes a five-year plan that is heavy on strategy and light on detail and how to focus on the end prize. Anderson has prepared a raft of tips and tricks and the things that you need to do and need to avoid, in your relentless drive to the top.

Anderson advocates staying sober at work parties, as this gives you a massive advantage over those who are just opening their third bottle of champagne. They are probably going to make themselves look stupid, or do something completely inappropriate as rationality and common sense have left the room at this point. If they are not unemployable after the party, then they will at least scupper their chances of climbing the corporate ladder.

His second tip is not boasting. No one likes a show-off. Instead, drop snippets of information into conversations. That way, people slowly build a fragmented picture of you. None of these snippets of information need be true though…

For the British, subtlety works. Other nationalities, Americans for example, brashness is their middle name. And they probably have Jr after it too. He advocates gym work to keep trim and suggests avoiding masturbation to boost testosterone and always getting a good night’s sleep. Those psychopaths without a conscience will generally not have any anxiety.

Moving from ‘the swamp of despair’ to the ‘foothills of power’ is Anderson’s next chapter. Here he expands on ways to begin to dominate the office that you are working in, both overtly and covertly. There are various techniques and shenanigans that you could use, including put-downs and virtue signalling and why you shouldn’t beat your new boss at golf.

He suggests numerous tactics and schemes to move up the greasy corporate pole, including befriending someone in HR to get the dirt on your colleagues and aligning yourself with those that can carry you to the top. He does warn that you will need to tread on and puncture some egos in the relentless pursuit of this goal.

The thing with being at work is that for some reason, people are expecting you to work. Anderson has evidence and tips on how to do less than a sloth each day and to still be seen by your boss as the most valuable member of the team.

As you, the acolyte, reach the pinnacle of your achievements, making sure that you, and only you, reach the top means that extreme measures are called for. Anderson provides a list and some robust excuses to ensure that it isn’t you getting your marching orders unexpectedly one day.

And so, you’ve finally made it! Or have you? There is always someone higher up the tree and every time you look up, all you can see is ass holes. And those below? Well, they are after your job…

You may have guessed from the book and this review that this is not your regular self-help book. Rather, Anderson has used a heavy blend of satire, sarcasm and humour to demonstrate to the people that want to read this just how the world is turning out. There are a lot of bona fide psychopaths who have reached positions of power, wealth and influence in the world today. And the places that they are intending on taking us are terrifying. Do yourself a favour and read this to get a measure of what they will be like.

3.5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

Where does humanity see ourselves in 10, 20 or even 50 years’ time? Will we wipe ourselves off the planet? Will AI put us all out of work, and we’ll starve to death? Or will climate change do a combination of those things and eradicate humanity?

Who knows?

Well, no one really. But many people have theories and speculate based on current trends; this is what Harari tried to do in this book.

As my long-retired father regularly reminds me, work is a four-letter word. He’s not wrong… Harari explores where the working man and woman are at, at the moment and where we might be in the world of work after the algorithm, AI, and robots have fully arrived. He considers the universal basic income and the policies that Scandinavian countries are putting in place to protect workers rather than specifically jobs.

I thought that his chapter on liberty was very interesting. We like to think of ourselves (at least in the Western hemisphere) as being free in all regards, but even in our so-called free society, we have contracts (!!!) over what we can and can’t say. Thankfully, we are not as heavily restricted in what we can say or do if we were living under a dictator or in an authoritarian society.
Churchill once said that ‘democracy is the worst political system in the whole world, except for all the others’. Our ability to choose who or what to vote for is great in principle. However, most people rely on their irrational feelings when voting and surprise, surprise, AI is muscling in on this with all of its pre-built in flaws and biases.

He moves neatly onto equality in the next chapter. He proposes that the most equal society that humans have had was the hunter gatherer. I didn’t really agree with this, as even then, there would have been some form of hierarchy. Since then, most societies have rarely been equal. People are split because of class, wealth, land and power, with those having some or all of those things generally being in charge of those who didn’t have them. He envisages a terrifying future where the haves can accelerate the negligible differences between humans.
How will the 21st century address communities? No one can be absolutely sure what the future holds, but I am not sure that social media (or anti-social media, as it should be called) will play a part. It can have its positive moments, but sadly, they are few and far between as the algorithms drive outrage for their revenue.

How do we define civilisation? Is the Western way best? A secular society, or religious, choosing from Christianity, Islam, or Hindu or Buddhism? It is almost impossible to say as they all have good and bad points. I tend to think that a good society is one that allows a range of views, supports those less fortunate, promotes peace and harmony and holds all members of society to high standards. Societies that promote division and seek to anger certain parts of society, with that anger aimed at particular sections, i.e. immigrants, are societies that are doomed.

So is nationalism the answer? No. The introspective navel gazing that is, along with the self-importance and exclusion of others, has never done any good to those countries that have adopted it. Harari subtitles this chapter, Global Problems need Global Answers.

Harari’s next chapter is on religion, and he sets about trying to answer the question: Does religion have the answers to the problems facing the world at the moment? Er, no. It doesn’t. Sadly, it does have the ability to cause more strife, conflict and misery amongst people still.

He finishes this section on immigration, a touchy subject, as anyone who follows current political discourse will know. I think that he does get to the nub of the problem with his Coldlandia and Warmlandia example. He explains how people in each of his made-up countries manage when they have emigrated to the opposing country.

Terrorism, war and violence have been significant factors in human history for as long as two people have disagreed over something or other. He explores how these things have changed and contemplates how they will change in the future.

To have humility is to have freedom from pride and arrogance. There are some countries with this, but sadly, they are few and far between. Mostly it is the geopolitical equivalent of willy waving, and it is not big, and it is not clever…

Harari ventures briefly into the thorny world of religion and secularism. I thought that he had some interesting perspectives on this, but I didn’t always agree with him.

Where I think he is right is on how ignorant we are these days. He uses the example of how few people understand exactly how a zip works. Even the simplest product, i.e. a toaster, needs experts in electrics, moulding, metalwork, plating and mechanisms.

Is there a just way of doing life? Harari suggests that we can just do it by making ethical decisions on things that we do and know. As is the way of modern life, most things are hidden from us, either deliberately or just because the modern world is far too complex for us, and anyone else, for that matter, to understand.

From there he moves onto the post-truth age, going from the outright lies told by political leaders nowadays to the more common mix of half-truths and fiction that most politicians spout and that to most people sounds plausible. The advice that he gives is that if you want to find a reliable and trustworthy source of information, then you will probably need to pay for it. Free almost never means good these days.

Science fiction is a way of imagining the future. Some of these stories are grim, i.e. 1984 and The Handmaid’s Tale, and others are more utopian. Reading them can put you in the mindset of someone else, and it gives you empathy with them as you live their experiences.
I spent a long time in education and graduated at the age of 26, having completed a part-time degree. I had a useful qualification and was in paid work that was relevant to that. Children today don’t have that opportunity; instead, they will end up changing jobs over the course of their careers and often retraining, or worse, having gig economy jobs as the elites de-skill and commodify every job in the rapidly changing modern economy.

I thought that this was an interesting book. He has some good ideas and makes some very good points about the possible futures that humanity could have. However, there were some points that I didn’t really agree with, and there were more than a few that I thought he was utterly wrong about. But I think the point of these books is that they are the beginning of a discussion, not a hard and fast roadmap of where we are going. I think that he is a fairly good writer and that he is pretty good at conveying his ideas in a clear and succinct way. I was underwhelmed by his first book, Sapiens, but think this is equally good as his previous book, Homo Deus. It is worth a read if you have a chance.

2 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

Will Havell hasn’t had the easiest of upbringings. He has the misfortune to be shipwrecked when young and was orphaned at the same time. He survived and made it back to England, where he was brought up by his grandparents, and that had its own trauma.

Before long, he was in the service of a Mr Huxtable, a man who wanted to head to sea to find his own son. Worryingly, though, Havell is starting to see a figure or face occasionally, and it is beginning to scare him.

Huxtable and Havell join Huxtable’s own ship and embark on a journey south, passing France and Spain. The voyage is most uneventful in the first weeks of the voyage. Havell gets to know the crew and the captain and settles into a daily routine.

The stop at a port for further provisions for the journey, and Havell has the chance to go ashore. They have to shelter in the port from the weather before they can disembark again to continue south.

It is on the second half of the journey to find Huxtable’s own son that it begins to feel really strange for Havell again. The presence that had haunted him back in England, he has started to see on the ship, and he is beginning to worry about what is going to happen on the ship…

I found this to be ok as a story, but didn’t think that it was that scary. That said, there were points where it definitely was a bit weird (fitting for the series that it is part of). Bearing in mind that it was published back in 1929, I found that the language took a bit of getting used to. Having read this, I wouldn’t necessarily rush to seek out any of his other works.

4.5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

[Britain is a nation of] long shadows on county cricket grounds, warm beer, invincible green suburbs, dog lovers and – as George Orwell said – old maids bicycling to Holy Communion through the morning mist. – John Major

Politicians of a certain political hue want to sell the dream of nostalgia, the notion that everything was much better back in the day. We’d won a war (with a lot of help from others), and life then was villages with roses growing around the door of a thatched cottage. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t… Life for most people was nasty, brutish, and often short, unless they were born chinless and inbred, and had a substantial part of a county as their land and their home.

We were the first nation to industrialise, and then at the end of the 20th century, we were the first nation to become post-industrial as the politicians of the time embraced the service and banking industries. Hamilton-Paterson describes the banking sector as a parasite on the British economy, and I can’t say I disagree with his point of view.

He goes on to explain how those who fill the corridors of the now exclusive public schools and gain entry to the premier universities have no interest in STEM (Science, Engineering, Technology and Mathematics). This is something that almost every other country puts as its priority.

You would think that the country that invented railways would have the best and most comprehensive network in the world. But you’d be wrong. The modern railway network costs the country more in subsidies than it used to when it was fully nationalised. Madness. Add the amount it is subsidised to the vast fares that the private sector charges, and you can see that the promise of privatisation being better value for the consumer was one great lie. Transport planning has never been a strong point of successive governments and the civil service. The unnecessary Beeching cuts on the railways, to the laughable and bonkers decisions on airports, mostly surrounding London.

The demise of the railways was driven (sic) by the rise of the car and road lobby. They had the politician and civil servants by the short and curlies, and they ensured that all policy decisions on transport prioritised roads. In a sense of irony that you couldn’t make up, Hamilton-Paterson goes on to describe just how awful most British cars were. Add to that heady mix of poor quality and design, the shocking management of the companies and the inflexible and unhelpful union leaders made everything ten times worse. This is why we have no UK owned car manufacturers. The captains of industry and policy makers still managed to get and keep their gongs for services to industry… As there is no comprehensive transport policy, and the poor planning of the road network, we are in the top ten for the gridlocked roads in the world.

As a nation surrounded by the sea, we have always built our own boats and ships. It used to be a massive industry, but in recent years it has dwindled somewhat, partly because of shipyard management failing to adopt new construction techniques and unions also failing to embrace these changes. Both camps were shortsighted and stupid in their own unique ways. There are some shipyards with work, mostly military vessels, but most ships nowadays are foreign-built and often foreign-owned too.

Hamilton-Paterson then focuses on the defence industry. It is a very lucrative business, even before you get into the shady and dodgy business practices that are employed when dealing with some of the more corrupt governments around the world. There is often a revolving door between businesses, politicians, high-level military personnel and civil servants. Those who have awarded contracts seem to end up on the boards of the companies that have won the contracts. All very shabby… On top of that, almost every project seems to go over budget and time, and then doesn’t always work properly. Probably our best defence is to provide our shonky kit to our enemies…

Motorcycling – the dream of the open road and the sweeping bends. The reality is, flies in your teeth and avoiding all the idiots who seem to never see anyone on two wheels on the road. When I started riding motorbikes many, many years ago, I had a Japanese bike as all the British motorbikes had gone. And this time it couldn’t be blamed on the unions; rather, it was down to management ineptitude. The boards had no interest or knowledge of motorcycles or engineering. Couple that with complacency and an unwillingness to adapt to changing market conditions, and the industry was doomed.

Around the time of WW2, it could be said that Britain was a world leader in many fields and technologies. Sadly, it wouldn’t be long after the war that we lost those leads. Sometimes this was because of stupid decisions that we had made, other times, nuclear being the example covered in the book, were because the Americans deliberately stopped sharing information on the new technology.

As an engineer, I appreciated his scathing indictment of the lack of support from all levels of government and industry for engineering and STEM. The institutes that we finally did get, some 60-plus years after the French and Germans, were largely ineffective. Most shocking for me was learning about the systematic dismantling of the Industrial Training Boards after the government came under pressure from industry, who were reluctant to pay for training. By doing this, they have been agents of their own demise as skilled people have retired and changed roles mean that there is a dearth of people being able to do the work we need.

The final two chapters of the book are equally scathing of the way that the rich and political class, often known as the great and the good, have flogged off all the family silver, burnt all the wooden furniture and even sold the handcart we should have been going to hell in. It has been an enormous transfer of public wealth to the private sector, even larger than the land lost under the enclosure acts.

I think that he is completely right in everything that he says in this book, and I implore you to read it. Then start to push for political change to improve everyone’s lot in this country.

3.5 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

John Maltravers had followed the usual route from Eton to Oxford that the people of his class often took. He had an uneventful two years there. He met William Gaskell, who was equally talented as him in music, and they got along really well. One summer, Gaskell was taken to Europe by a wealthy uncle. As a gift, he brought back some sheet music and a book for Maltravers.

After they had spent the evening together, Gaskell left the music with Maltravers. He decides to have a go at playing some of the scores from the velum book. He selects a piece of music, and as he plays the opening bars on his violin, he hears someone sit down in the wicker chair behind him. On finishing the piece, there is the sound of someone standing up behind him. He knows he is alone, and he can’t see anyone at all in the room.

The same phenomenon happens when he and Gaskell play that particular piece of music. It was slightly strange, but not unnerving. However, the next time he plays the same tune, everything takes a much sinister turn…

Maltravers spends the summer back in Dorset and on returning to Oxford, finds that the phenomena he had experienced before seems to have abated. On rearranging the bookshelves in the room, he spots a hinge on a panel. He forces it open, and in the room behind it is a very dusty violin.

It turns out that this instrument is a Stradivarius and a fine example too. Maltravers has it serviced and restored. When he first gets to play it, he has no idea as to the changes it will bring to his life. I won’t elaborate any more than that, as any more would really spoil the story.

I did think that the plot was fairly good, and even though it is only a short book, it did feel like it took an age for things to happen and to reach a conclusion. It is very big on Victorian Gothic melodrama, and every now and again, I found the language to be a bit flowery for my liking. Falkner is great about writing about place, and I really liked the scenes set in Dorset and Italy. I haven’t read his book, Moonfleet, but might do so at some point.