Steven has gone home now - which has to be close to a Christmas miracle. Or a close-to-Christmas miracle. I got him some book about Bob Dylan - his favourite singer; which is pretty ironic really, as he now sounds like Bob Dylan when he sings, thanks to extensive facial surgery.
This year I've kept a record of all the books I've read and given them marks out of 100. It was mainly so that when the book groups I'm in ask me what was my best (new to me) book this year I would be able to give an answer, rather than humming and hawing and not being able to remember anything except 'The Gruffalo', like last year.
So this year the early leader was 'Secret Life of Bees' by Sue Monk Kidd, which was a bit girly and slightly didn't fulfill it's early promise, but was excellent nevertheless. Then in September David Mitchell's 'Cloud Atlas' took over. I have a bit of a soft spot for science fiction, and this was kind of slightly more literary, slightly less paranoid Philip K Dick. Then this week I finished 'Line of Beauty' by Alan Hollinghurst, and that has to take the prize. It's kind of modern Evelyn Waugh or F Scott Fitzgerald - it has that same kind of hypnotic quality, the convincing world they put you in.
Best non-fiction was Karen Armstrong's 'Battle For God', which was excellent, and sadly didn't have much competition as I spent a lot of time reading rubbish about the Knights Templar and New Labour.
2005-12-13 @ 13:36