#194 The Last Man (1826)

Author: Mary Shelley
Title: The Last Man
Genre: Novel
Year: 1826
Pages: 400
Origin: read on a Kindle
Nod Rating: 2 nods out of 5

Some books are read in a day. Some are read in a flash, in a frenzied, captivating experience. Mary Shelley’s The Last Man is not one of those books. Having come across it via a reference in Vaughan’s and Guerra’s graphic novel series Y The Last Man, the Worm thought he would take a gander and enter a new world. It was a decision he would come to regret.

Now, such regret is not pinned on the writing talent of Shelley herself. This is the same author of Frankenstein and whose stock has only risen in recent decades. The regret has more to do with the book’s themes and purpose: a trumpeting of the triumvirate that was Shelly, her husband Percy Bysshe Shelley and their mutual friend Lord Byron. Rather than the expectant apocalyptic Sci-Fi offering that was originally imagined, the Worm was given a story that could have been better served as a memoir.

The novel follows the life and adventures of Lionel Verney (Shelley herself in disguise): a man who wishes to do right in this world of the future. He befriends the son of the last king of England (yes, how we wish the monarchy of Britain may be extinguished by the late twenty-first century!) named Adrian, and together the pair discuss many philosophical matters across many years; and many pages of text for the frustrated reader. This couple – and indeed, that is what they are, the two Shelleys together – are joined by the Lord Byron a-like character, Lord Raymond.

Years pass with this friendship cemented, alongside wives and growing families – but yet, nothing of actual consequence actually happens. Rather than action, the reader is unwittingly treated to discussions on the nature of man, of monarchy and of society: all of which gets rather tedious. Especially when awaiting the climatic apocalypse and the coming forth of ‘the last man’. Eventually, even Lord Raymond tires of the domestic life and goes off in search of fame and glory in the Greek wars. Perhaps Mary Shelley herself tires of the plot and these characters, with each one snuffed out during the second and third volumes of the text. Yes, one man does survive at the book’s end: Lionel Verney.

The book is Shelley’s attempt to make sense of her own life and the untimely deaths of her husband and Byron. These biographical elements overpower any hope the novel has of standing alone and forging its own identity, unlike earlier works such as Frankenstein. Shelley remains the last man – not of a fixed gender – but rather of her generation and romantic ties. The world, as ever, is in change: the 1820s would give way to the reforming 1830s and the new Reform Act and Poor Laws, which in turn would make room for the revolutionary 1840s with the rise of the Chartists and the rebellions across Europe. Liberalism clashed with autocracy, which in turn fought hard with the rising manifestos from communists and socialists. There was little hope for earlier notions of the ideals held in such high esteem by the French revolutionists of the late eighteenth century. The ending plague that wipes out mankind is Shelley’s attempt to convey this sense of loss of the former world; with Europe standing still, ‘a monument of antique barbarism.’

The Worm’s frustration with the plot and overall context subtracts from Shelley’s talent at writing in descriptive flourishes. For example, take the opening of Verney’s story:

‘I am the native of a sea-surrounded nook, a cloud-enshadowed land, which, when the surface of the globe, with its shoreless ocean and trackless continents, presents itself to my mind, appears only as an inconsiderable speck in the immense whole; and yet, when balanced in the scale of mental power, far outweighed countries of larger extent and more numerous population. So true it is, that man’s mind alone was the creator of all that was good or great to man, and that Nature herself was only his first minister.’

However, the problem with such prose is that no matter how well constructed it is, given too large a helping with soon burst the belly of the reader.

The Last Man is a haunting novel, on what Shelley deems ‘the end of Love’. The end of her former life and the ideas once valued. But, as she also comments: ‘Yet not the end.’ Lionel Verney remains as the last character and person, but somewhat teasingly, survives and lives to tell the tale. Unfortunately, the novel is not one of Shelley’s finest. The Worm was tempted and, like Verney, lived to tell the story; but at what cost of wasted hours of joyful reading of other texts!

Further Reading
Buy it here Read it here

#193 Henry: Virtuous Prince (2008)

Author: David Starkey
Title: Henry: Virtuous Prince
Genre: Biography
Year: 2008
Pages: 390
Origin: a tried and trusted library book
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

‘Henry and I go back a long way’
David Starkey

Starkey’s comment is very true; his career has been based around the Tudors and, in particular, the “big guy” of the batch: Henry VIII. This monarch served as the primary focus in Starkey’s doctorial dissertation and resulting books in both academia and popular culture; ranging from print to the TV screen. This book – Henry: Virtuous Prince – is a biography of Henry in his younger years: the duke of York who unexpectedly became Prince of Wales, before events unfolded to raise him to status of King of England before his eighteenth birthday.

So, fans of the older, fatter, evil Henry depicted in most fiction and histories are to be disappointed. The severing of wives heads is not to be found; however, Starkey is keen to point out the interesting contrast between young prince and old king:

‘This book is about the other Henry: the young, handsome prince, slim, athletic, musical and learned as no English ruler had been for centuries. This Henry loved his mother and – most unusually for a boy at the time – was brought up with his sisters, with all that implies about the civilizing and softening impact of female company. He was conventionally pious: he prostrated himself before images, went on pilgrimages and showed himself profoundly respectful of the pope as head of the church….he modelled himself on Henry V, the greatest and noblest of his predecessors. Or he would be a new Arthur with a court that put Camelot in the shade. At the least, he determined that his reign, which began when he was only seventeen and ten months old, should be a fresh start.’

Focus, then, is dedicated to his young life in – what could be described – as formulaic fashion for Starkey: the reader gets the back-story of the parents, the education and educators of Henry, the obligatory chapter on religion, as well as the influential people around him that range from his mother and sisters to the charismatic Archduke Phillip of Habsburg.

As with many of Starkey’s recent books, the research and writing has gone in tandem with a documentary television series. The writing – breezy and conversational – has all the hallmarks of a cinematic style; further shown in his willingness to shower the reader with anecdotes in the book’s introduction, and in the somewhat annoying and pointless use of extremely short sections in the book (some comprising a mere few lines). Interestingly, in the book’s end section interview, Starkey is keen to point out how he believes his writing has developed after freeing himself from academic life; as well as stating how he ‘abominate(s) the dialogue between text and footnote.’

However, Starkey’s foregoing of some of his analytical gifts appears to have done the ending of this book an injustice. The concluding chapter is one entitled ‘Wolsey’, with little coverage given – beside one paragraph - to Wolsey’s future role in defining the reign of Henry VIII. In fact, it is not an ending in the orthodox sense, considering that – like the accompanying television series – a further book is published dealing with the older Henry. Such a break may well work in the world of TV, but in the form of larger books - in which more time from the reader is usually invested – a resounding conclusion is in order.

Like the majority of Starkey’s work, the book was written under the influence of his own Tudor-brand of “beer goggles”: Starkey is keen for superlatives to flourish and to comment on his astounded wonder of this world that he has created. And, that is what it is: a Starkey creation, rather than a real grounded history. The Sunday Times remarked that this book ‘is Starkey’s masterpiece’. It certainly isn’t; and if one does exist, then perhaps Starkey’s earlier – scorned – work could be its natural home.

The reader might suspect the Worm’s hostility against Starkey; it would be foolish to deny its existence. However, the Worm has also been vocal in promoting the merits of Starkey’s work: as seen in the reading of four Starkey books in the past four years (putting him into the realm of the Big Nodders). Furthermore, Starkey’s focus on Henry’s early years is commendable; hopefully, more historians will trod this path in the future to attempt to give reasons as to the man that Henry VIII eventually became. However, as with Starkey’s other works, although the text is readable, the substance is seemingly minimal. The Worm continues his quest to find Starkey’s “masterpiece”. That is, of course, if it exists at all.

Buy Starkey's book right here

#192 Mean Time (1993)

Author: Carol Ann Duffy
Title: Mean Time
Genre: Poetry
Year: 1993
Pages: 50
Origin: a tried and trusted library book
Nod Rating: 4 nods out of 5

The Worm was first turned onto to the poetry of Carol Ann Duffy in a classroom in a time long ago in a classroom far away. The poem was ‘Valentine’. And it blew the Worm away. It begins:

‘Not a red rose or a satin heart.
I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises lightly
Like the careful undressing of love’

Before finishing:

‘I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
Possessive and faithful
As we are,
For as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
If you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
Cling to your knife.’

The poem’s refusal to play ball with the usual “roses are red” lie sold by poets from previous centuries earned immediate respect. Clearly, this was a writer who played their own game by their own set of rules.

Since that time, Duffy’s career has continued to soar (the Worm, in comparison, has gone into stagnation of writing book review after book review, in a self-imposed critical hell with no end in sight); winning the T.S. Eliot prize and being appointed poet laureate in 2009, becoming the first woman to hold the position (as well as the first openly LGBT person)). Such a role has been used to write about topical and hard-hitting subjects ranging from MPs expenses, climate change, and Afghanistan. Our paths converged once more recently in the form of Duffy’s collection of poems from the mid-1990s, Mean Time, in which ‘Valentine’ is homed.

Mean Time covers a range of issues, all related to one larger theme of the memory of things past. Love is large factor in this, as well as its many associations: the thrill of first kiss, of becoming closely knit with another, alongside lies and deceit, as well as the ultimate death of a union. There is a loose narrative, from youth and innocence right through to an older, wiser cynicism.

Alongside ‘Valentine’, particular favourites are ‘Litany’, ‘The Cliché Kid’, ‘Moments of Grace’, ‘Close’. Most spectacular of all is ‘Beachcomber’, with the narrator thinking back – as hard as possible – to earlier memories when a child on a beach:

‘this child,
And not in sepia,
Lives,
You can see her;
Comes up the beach,
Alone;
Bucket and spade,
In her bucket, a starfish, seaweed,
A dozen alarming crabs
Caught with string and a mussel.
Don’t move.
Trow.’

The memories, no matter how sparse, form; but as Duffy writes: ‘But this is a close as you get’, before concluding the poem:

‘Nearly there.
Open your eyes.
Those older, those shaking, hands cannot touch the child
Or the spade
Or the sand
Or the seashell on the shore;
And what
What would you have to say,
Of all people,
To her
Given the chance?
Exactly?’

The failure of memory is a theme that is repeatedly returned to throughout the collection, including that of the earlier stated ‘Moments of Grace’ (‘Memory’s caged bird won’t fly. These days / are we adjectives, nouns. In moments of grace / we were verbs, the secret of poems, talented.’). Furthermore, in ‘The Biographer’ Duffy writes of a person’s occupation looking at past memories of past lives that have long gone: ‘…an early daguerreotype shows you / excitedly staring out / from behind your face / the thing that made you yourself / still visibly there, / like a hood and a cloak of light.’

The first flush of love has died, to be replaced by a sceptical look of realism. This is detailed in the poem ‘Valentine’, as well as many others. Duffy comments on the lies lovers tell one another - a topic regularly used by the plethora of soap operas year after year – but depicted in a reflective, realistic light by the poet. For example, read the final verse of ‘Close’:

‘Put out the light. Years stand outside on the street
Looking up to an open window, black as our mouth
Which utters its tuneless song. The ghosts of ourselves,
Behind and before us, throng in a mirror, blind,
Laughing and weeping. They know who we are.’

Whilst the titular poem, ‘Mean Time’, ends in a similar verse:

‘But we will be dead, as we know,
Beyond all light.
These are the shortened days
And the endless nights’

Duffy’s voice is a needed one in today’s society. She is proving herself the right choice as our poet laureate, as she as shown time and again in previous collections of her poetry. Take the time to check out Mean Time and to flavour ‘Valentine’ and those lethal, scented onions.


Further Info:

Buy Mean Time right here

Find out more about Carol Ann Duffy

#191 How I Escaped My Certain Fate (2010)

Author: Stewart Lee
Title: How I Escaped My Certain Fate
Genre: Autobiography
Year: 2010
Pages: 370
Origin: Borrowed from the eclectic comedic brain of Mr Walton
Nod Rating: 4 nods out of 5

The back cover of this book has a couple of quotes highlighted in bold: ‘The most exciting comedian the country bar none’ (The Times); ‘The worst comedian in Britain, as funny as bubonic plague’ (The Sun). It takes a bold man to bring in the views of both his supporters and negative critics. Ladies and gentlemen, please introduce yourselves to Stewart Lee.

Of course, many of you are acquainted with Lee’s work already (and have had the pleasure of introducing the Worm himself). Having enjoyed some public acclaim in the 1990s – most notably as part of a duo alongside Richard Herring on the cult show This Morning With Richard Not Judy – Lee fell out of love with comedy and appeared to retire from the stage. This book charts his return to the circuit, and more than that, a rise to the peaks of British comedy as we know it today. Good comedy, that is. Therefore, dear reader, you may discount the pointless reams of “acts” on television from this small, yet quality-laden genre known as “good comedy”. Yes, you know the names; the Worm needs not point them out.

How I Escaped My Certain Fate is an odd book to categorise: autobiography, but also comedy, alongside memoir and general discussion on the limits and abilities of comedy. As its subtitle states, it is ‘The Life and Deaths of a Stand-Up Comedian’. The book contains transcripts of Lee’s fantastic shows Stand-Up Comedian (2005), 90s Comedian (2006) and 41st Best Stand-Up Ever (2008); as well as several appendices ranging from the role of music theatre to a discussion with Johnny Vegas. These shows plot out Lee’s return to comedy; a revival that has seen him win critical acclaim and a growing number of new fans.

However, the juice in this book does not come from the transcripts alone (after all, the far superior option of actually watching the shows exists in DVD form); accompanying the words of the shows are numerous and deep footnotes. These allow the casual fan to the Lee fanatic (and the Worm is assured that these must exist in a sane world) to immerse themselves in the comedy world. The genesis of the jokes are revealed, alongside much of the background politicking in BBC meetings and with venue promoters. The footnotes are of such quality they elevate the book from a well rounded 3 nodder recommendation to the dizzier heights of 4 nods.

Credit and attention is given to many of Lee’s comedy posse, including – but not isolated to - the amazing Armando Iannucci and the fantastic Simon Munnery. Lee identities himself with this duo in an attempt to maintain a sense of art and purity surrounding their work, desiring to preserve integrity and not sell-out as so many comedians have done before. Bill Hicks would be proud.

It was during the opening years of the twenty-first century when Lee fell out of love with comedy; stating in his own words ‘gradually, incrementally and without any fanfare – or even much thought – gave up being a stand-up comedian’. Attention was turned to other pursuits, before finding a spark with the show Jerry Springer: The Opera. This journey back to the comedy circuit underpins much of the shows within this book, with Lee questioning his place within this world and with discussion on the philosophy of his work. For example, the work on Jerry Springer: The Opera adds ammunition with Lee drawing on the many attacks from religious groups; to the extent of actually citing them when on the stage.

Lee’s act has been deemed an acquired taste, with many condemning or ridiculing his style and delivery (from arrogance and conceit to plain dull). One reviewer wrote: ‘His whole tone is one of complete, smug condescension’. But the comic himself regularly self-deprecates, ranging from calling himself ‘fat’ to ‘a squashed Morrissey’, as well as using many of the negative reviews (including the one stated above) to use on advertising for his shows.

To dismiss him as arrogant is to misunderstand what Lee – both the onstage version and the real person - is attempting to portray. The Worm underpins it as remaining true to oneself, of pointing out the ironies in our society and of sticking up for the little guy. One of Lee’s strongest features is the ability to defend what has ridiculed, from equality and diversity (notably his conversations with his Nan on the dominance of equality and diversity) to his routine on the hypocrisy of the Top Gear presenters (‘I wish he had been decapitated and that his head had rolled off in front of his wife… It’s only a joke!’). As one of the few voices on TV to do this, Lee should be warmly applauded.

Lee’s career continues onwards and upwards, taking in other acclaimed and – if the Worm says so himself – fantastically engaging shows: If You Prefer a Milder Comedian, Please Ask For One, and Carpet Remnant World, as well as his two TV series Stewart Lee’s Comedy Vehicle. If any readers have yet to catch Stewart Lee on stage, please head straight to YouTube right now to become acquainted. You will not regret it.

Further Reading:
Buy it here
Stewart Lee's website