Currently Reading, an Extract: The Cuckoo’s Calling

“It was another Victorian pub, this time with enormous windows reaching almost from floor to ceiling, looking out on to a great grey 1920s building decorated with statues by Jacob Epstein. The nearest of these sat over the doors, and stared down through the pub windows; a fierce seated deity was being embraced by his infant son, whose body was weirdly twisted back on itself, to show his genitalia. Time had eroded all shock value.” ………

Inevitable Chaos: Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton [1990]

Jurassic Park has always been one of my favourite films, and until recently I had no idea it was adapted from a book. The book is very different from the film – far more violent and fatalistic, and far from the Hollywood tint of the film; Dr Grant loves children, Hammond hates them, Tim and Lex are older brother and younger sister, Ellie and Grant are only student and teacher, and oh boy is the ………

Poetry: Aubade by Phillip Larkin

I think Larkin may become my new favourite poet – he is definitely up there with Cummings and Plath. Aubade I work all day, and get half-drunk at night. Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare. In time the curtain-edges will grow light. Till then I see what’s really always there: Unresting death, a whole day nearer now, Making all thought impossible but how And where and when I shall myself die. Arid interrogation: ………

Currently Reading, an Extract: Fahrenheit 451

“You weren’t hurting anyone, you were only hurting things! And since things couldn’t really be hurt, since things felt nothing, and things don’t scream or whimper, as this woman might begin to scream and cry out, there was nothing to tease your conscience later. You were simply clearing up. Janitorial work, essentially. Everything to its proper place. Quick with the kerosene! Who’s got a match!” – Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.