#275 The Secret Garden (1911)

Author: G.K. Chesterton
Title: The Secret Garden
Genre: Short Story
Year: 1911
Pages: 20
Origin: read on the iPhone
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

Until relatively recently, the Worm lived on a road named Chesterton Crescent. Other surrounding streets were named Carroll Road and Shakespeare Road, the reasoning here being of honouring writers (of no specific connection with the local area), and of the local city having run out of ideas for new street names.

No matter this, it remains a tribute to the writer G.K. Chesterton. A writer of which the Worm had little knowledge until deciding to read a piece of work in his honour. Not a long read, you understand, but rather a taster of his capability as a writer. Therefore, the rather useful app – Short Stories – came in handy by providing the Worm with The Secret Garden.

This short story is chiefly concerned with the character of Father Brown, a reoccurring person in a lot of Chesterton’s fiction. It is a murder mystery, displaying Chesterton’s ability in creating a well crafted story that did not fail to engage. Rather than discuss plot points, the Worm recommends the link below to be hurriedly clicked and the story consumed.

The Worm has decided on obtaining a few more reads of Chesterton’s hand. Not directly related to The Secret Garden, but more with Chesterton’s biography and great wealth of quotes. Many of these relate to religion and society, but the one that took the Worm’s fancy had a distinctly ordinary and humorous feel to it: ‘Let a man walk ten miles steadily on a hot summer’s day along a dusty English road, and he will soon discover why beer was invented.’ The Worm has since moved from Chesterton’s tribute of a street, but he is glad to have a reflected glory of association with the once world famous writer.

Read it here

#273 MaddAddam (2013)

Author: Margaret Atwood
Title: MaddAddam
Genre: Novel – Speculative Fiction
Year: 2013
Pages: 350
Origin: read on the Kindle
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

MaddAddam is the third in the trilogy of novels from acclaimed and engaging writer Margret Atwood. The beginnings are found in the novel Oryx and Crake, later followed up in The Year of the Flood. Both novels have been reviewed in this blog and received different verdicts. Oryx and Crake received 4 nods and was catapulted into the Top Ten reads of the year list, whilst The Year of the Flood failed to recapture the mood and was awarded a lowly 2 nods. What nod rating, then, the final in the series?

The novel is more closely linked to The Year of the Flood than Oryx and Crake, but yet it resolves issues resulting from both books. However, rather than follow the story of Jimmy/Snowman, it is closely linked to characters created in The Year of the Flood. For fans of the initial novel – like the Worm – this is an unwelcome development. Less enthusiastic and well-rounded characters are charted, principally that of Toby and the background of Zeb. However, once Atwood has finished tying up loose ends, the second half of the novel picks up pace, before concluding in action packed frenzy.

Of particular interest is Atwood’s narrative voices, as experimented with in the previous novels. There is first person perspective, as well as third-person narrative. Furthermore, the Crakers also develop their own voice within the novel, particularly in Blackbeard’s narration of the climatic shoot-out that displays Atwood’s imagination. This ties in with the trilogy’s conclusion, with the Crakers finding their own, firm footing in the post-apocalyptic world.

From a story-line perspective the trilogy is unnecessary. Oryx and Crake works suitably as a standalone novel, and remains the strongest of the three novels; the questions that are posed at the end of the read may have had greater effect if left alone. However, Atwood shows confidence in returning to the world set up in Oryx and Crake, considerably expanding it in the two subsequent books. The resulting characters are not as well defined, but the land of the Crakers offers engaging subject material for any real fan of speculative fiction to thoroughly enjoy.

As such, the Worm gives MaddAddam a healthy 3 nods. Furthermore, the Worm provides The Year of the Flood an additional nod, now taking into account the fact that it was a stepping-stone in Atwood’s grander plan of the trilogy. Such an outlay of nods gives Margaret Atwood an overall total of 10 Worm nods, putting her into the Double-Digit Club. One for is for sure, it will not the final limit, with the Worm planning to read more Atwood novels in the not so distant future.

 

Click to read the Worm's reviews of  Oryx and Crake and The Year of the Flood. And read more about the MaddAddam trilogy here

#271 The End of History? (1989)

Author: Francis Fukuyama
Title: The End of History?
Genre: Essay
Year: 1989
Pages: 20
Origin: read on the Kindle
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

 

‘IN WATCHING the flow of events over the past decade or so, it is hard to avoid the feeling that something very fundamental has happened in world history. The past year has seen a flood of articles commemorating the end of the Cold War, and the fact that "peace" seems to be breaking out in many regions of the world. Most of these analyses lack any larger conceptual framework for distinguishing between what is essential and what is contingent or accidental in world history, and are predictably superficial. If Mr. Gorbachev were ousted from the Kremlin or a new Ayatollah proclaimed the millennium from a desolate Middle Eastern capital, these same commentators would scramble to announce the rebirth of a new era of conflict.’

So writes Francis Fukuyama. As the Cold War came to an end the old certainties were being bulldozed down. A new world had come into being, with the former ideas – political and social – being swept away. These vast changes led Francis Fukuyama to pen an influential essay, The End of History?.

Fukuyama’s essential point is that with the collapse of the Soviet Union has come the overwhelming triumph of liberal ideals, principally from the western democracies (USA and western Europe). He argues that these ideals indicate an end point of humanity’s progress and evolution, from ancient civilisation, across the feudalism of medieval times, towards the capitalism employed today. As he states:

‘What we may be witnessing is not just the end of the Cold War, or the passing of a particular period of post-war history, but the end of history as such: that is, the end point of mankind’s ideological evolution and the universalisation of Western liberal democracy as the final form of human government.’

Gone, then, is communism, socialism and other theories. But, how well as Fukuyama’s essay held up over the past quarter of a century? Clearly, western liberal ideals remain dominant. Testament to this is the continuing superpower status of the United States of America, as well as the rapid growth of the European Union. But then again, cracks are apparent, particularly in the form of the current banking crisis. Furthermore, other ideals have taken a sharp focus, principally that of Islamic fundamentalism. Also, recent developments – such as the Russian seizure of Ukraninan land – flies in the face of the western democratic style. And this is without mentioning the new superpower, China, and how this will shape political relations in the decades ahead.

Of most striking note is the central belief that history never ends; history is spewed forth in a multitidue of events every single day. Fukuyama’s central argument that western liberal values indicate the end point of human development is a stunted one, especially when one considers the vast changes that have occurred in the last two hundreds alone, let alone the past thousand. The twenty-first century promises to bring more changes with it, especially within the sphere of technology. Political situations will continue to change and history will never end. But historical theories and statements – however odd and misguided (of which Fukuyama’s is not) – will continue to be spouted off by commentators and historians.

Read it here

#268 A Brief History of the English Reformation (2012)

Author: Derek Wilson
Title: A Brief History of the English Reformation
Genre: History
Year: 2012
Pages: 440
Origin: bought from the Works for £3.99
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

This title is somewhat misleading. After all, what is “brief” in more than four-hundred pages of reading? Derek Wilson’s history of the English Reformation is incredibly detailed and well-researched, leaving the Worm satisfied of this choice of book from the discount store The Works.

However, the book does not fit the entirety of the English Reformation, tending to a particular focus on the Tudor monarchs of the sixteenth century. The Stuart monarchs and their equally immense problems (Civil War, religious upheaval, monarchs on the run!) are ignored, although Wilson addresses this issue in the book’s epilogue. Wilson’s key focus is in an attempt to show how England was transformed by the whims and tastes of the Tudor dynasty, by Henry VIII and his daughter by Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth.

The historian does an admirable job of putting in the essential events – along with analysis and historical assessment – alongside some interesting minor detail. He has a clear understanding of the major players and their motivations. A narrative is held onto, but it lacks greater depth. Yes, you declare aloud right now, but remember Mr. Worm, this is a “brief” history. Perhaps the remit was never there to dig deeper, but also recall yourselves that in four-hundred pages ample space was provided.

For anyone wanting to know more about the English Reformation in the Tudor period, Derek Wilson’s book is warmly recommended. Get down to the Works now, there might still be a cheap copy going!

Find out more about the historian here

#256 The Killing Joke (1988)

Author: Alan Moore & Brian Bollard
Title: The Killing Joke
Genre: Graphic Novel
Year: 1988
Pages: 60
Origin: read on the iPad
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

The Killing Joke is one of those influential comic books that everyone seems to know something about. It inspired a shift-change in how artists and comic-book writers handled the gigantic legend of Batman, later also informing the Christopher Nolan trilogy of films in recent years. However, despite all of that, the story’s writer – Sir Alan Moore – has become slightly dismissive of his work.

The first read of The Killing Joke – some seven or so years previously – was an engaging one. Having not been a comic-reading enthusiast in his youth, it was the Worm’s first real immersion into the genre. It was dark, action-packed, with an interesting narrative that took into account the (supposed) beginnings of Batman’s arch-nemesis, the Joker. As such, the Worm joined the ranks of others who supported its influence and special place within graphic novel history.

Second-time round always brings new surprises. This time the Worm had the experience of feasting on other Batman storylines (particularly that of Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns), as well as more of Sir Moore’s back catalogue (including the excellent The Watchmen). This time the journey was not as engaging or surprising, with the Worm’s comic-book reading critical eye shrugging at some of the lacklustre dialogue, and becoming disinterested at the shock-factor of the shooting of Gordon’s daughter. Furthermore, some of the plot seemed rushed, including the Joker’s origin back-story. In what is an otherwise downbeat review, what of the positives? Reading the 2008 deluxe reprint it is clear of the highlights of the artwork of Bollard.

The Killing Joke remains a crucial read for anyone serious in their devotion to Batman, or indeed, to that of Sir Alan Moore (yes, the Worm has knighted him). 3 nods may appear slightly unkind, but the Worm is not one for sentiments. Furthermore, this reviewer believes that the reading experience may become good once again, third-time round. See you in another seven or so years, Killing Joke.

#254 Elizabeth's Spy Master (2006)

Author: Robert Hutchinson
Title: Elizabeth’s Spy Master
Genre: History/Biography
Year: 2006
Pages: 350
Origin: bought from the Works for £2.99
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

A few weeks previously the Worm read another Tudor based book written by Robert Hutchinson (Young Henry). The Worm was slightly unflattering with his review, concluding it with the words: ‘there is little need in anyone picking up a copy of Hutchinson’s book in a hurry’. In fact, the Worm was reluctant to return to any Hutchinson book anytime soon, however, both Young Henry and this book, Elizabeth’s Spy Master, were bought together. It tugged at the Worm’s heartstrings to leave the latter book on the shelves, consigned to the forgotten corners and untouched for many book reading years to come. So, guilt won out. But the Worm is thankful for this. Hutchinson’s Elizabeth’s Spy Master is a far superior book on many levels. Allow him to explain in greater detail.

The book is centred on the life and times of Sir Francis Walsingham. He is noted as one of the great statesmen of his age; alongside William Cecil and the Earl of Leicester he formed the bedrock on which the success of the Elizabethan state was built. He graduated up the slippery slope of politics until he became indispensable throughout the 1570s and 1580s, particularly in the administration of the country. However, it is within his role as “spy master” and thrawting Catholic plots in which he is popularly known. Hutchinson argues the case that Walsingham is ‘one of the great unknown heroes of English history. By right, he should rank with Horatio Nelson, the Duke of Wellington and even Sir Winston Churchill as one of the great patriotic defenders, against all-comers, of this island state.’

However, Walsingham appears not to have obtained his due by the public (although this is a different matter with historians and academics). Hutchinson believes this is due to him being ‘a man very much of the shadows’, and his book is an account of his shadowing doings and dealings.

The experience of reading the book is slightly jarring: it knows not if it is a biography or a history book analysing the period under question. Of course, Walsingham himself was tightly woven into the nation’s fortunes; as such, as with any political history, the reader must follow the great events. Hutchinson uses the Catholic plots against the country as a rough framework, building up a traditional biographical narrative as we reach the 1580s and the strife and drama of the Babington Plot. This in turn witnesses the trail and execution of Mary Queen of Scots, perhaps Walsingham’s greatest success. The defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588 serves as a climax, all before the death of the great man having tasted victory.

Due to much of the information on Walsingham’s personality and own thoughts are now seemingly lost to history, Hutchinson attempts to compensate by dragging the reader – kicking and screaming – into the dirty underworld of the age. This includes the torture exacted on Catholic missionary priests and the ghastly deaths and confessions extracted. Hutchinson is keen to highlight Walsingham’s role as the Tudor age’s answer to James Bond by concentrating on his spy network (devoting a section at the book’s conclusion to various people connected to this).

Elizabeth’s Spy Master is an engaging read. It shines the light on a man unknown to most, whose deeds were of high importance to an Elizabethan state that was delicately placed in a hostile world. You may not be in a hurry to buy a copy, but if anyone is browsing the titles available in a well-stocked Works they could do little better than pick up this book.

Buy it here

#253 Marvel 1602 (2003)

Authors: Neil Gaiman (writer) & Andy Kubert (artist)
Title: Marvel 1602
Genre: Graphic Novel
Year: 2003
Pages: 250
Origin: read on the iPad
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

As most of you review reading fans will know (the whole two of you, I believe) the Worm has a fondness for Tudor history as well as comic books. What better way to spend a weekend in reading Marvel’s own Marvel 1602. Yes, the title is rather bland and uninspiring, however the idea and overall execution was an interesting one to follow.

Marvel 1602 is an eight-issue comic book series released throughout 2003. Written by Neil Gaiman (a further enticement) it promised some intriguing and engaging ideas. Characters from the Marvel universe are transplanted to the end of the Tudor period. Queen Elizabeth is an aging and dying woman, assisted by Sir Nicholas Fury (who in turn is assisted by Spiderman’s Peter Parker as Peter Parquagh). The Fantastic Four are present, known as a sailors who went missing at sea, only to be discovered as the prisoners of – who else – the evil Doom. England is home to those who dare to dabble in magic, including Stephen Strange and many of the X-Men (led by Carlos Xavier). However, England is set against the Catholic reactionaries from across Europe, in particular the Inquisition years of Spain. The villains of the Marvel comic books fill the roles, notably that of Magneto as the Grand Inquisitor. This battle is played against the running out of a clock, as the world is speculated to soon self-destruct.

But rather than simple “good” versus “evil” (the life and blood battle for Marvel for six decades) the writers attempt to build a bridge between this alternative universe and the one played out week after week on comic book stands. As states the writer ‘We are the Marvel Universe. It’s 400 years ago. For reasons we do not yet understand, people and events are coming into existence at the wrong time.’ This is a theme returned to as the climax rises throughout the pages, with Dr Reed postulates:

‘We are a boatful of monsters and miracles, hoping that somehow, we can survive a world in which all hands are against us. A world which, by all evidence, will end extremely soon…. [We are] a universe in which no story can ever truly end; in which there can be only continuances.’

Unfortunately, not all of this is fully pulled off. Yes, the action is present, but the volume of characters overpowers any momentum. It is likely that when given the keys to the embarrassment of riches that are all Marvel characters Gaiman became greedy. The central idea of the universes colliding is never fully convincing, nor – it must be said – fully understood. Too much paint is thrown at the canvas, resulting in an admirable but wasted attempt.

Such a problem is seemingly corrected in later titles set within this universe, with concentration provided on particular characters (such as Marvel 1602: Fantastick Four). But the Worm will not be tempted to return for a second bite.

Buy it here

#248 The Last English King (1997)

Author: Julian Rathbone
Title: The Last English King
Genre: Historical Fiction
Year: 1997
Pages: 380
Origin: a tried and trusted library book
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

Historical fiction has not been one of the Worm’s favoured genres of reading. History, yes! Fiction, yes! But the two together have made uneasy bedfellows. A historian tackling a piece of literature sometimes results in clinical prose, but giving an author a pop at a period in the past is like giving them a licence to reinvent and distort.

All of which makes the Worm’s enjoyment of Julian Rathbone’s The Last English King all very surprising. Having always enjoyed delving into the past of 1066 (“and all that!”), the Worm was curious to see how this past would be re-imagined. Thankfully the author settles the questions of anachronisms and historical accuracy head-on in his introduction to the book:

‘It may be thought that I have gone too far in this direction [in use of modern prose], allowing dialogue especially to be un-reconstructedly modern. Thus, for example, royalty are allowed to use bad language much as they do today. But why not? Assuming, and I am sure it was the case, that Anglo-Saxon lords were as quick with the odd expletive as their modern counterparts, and bearing in mind that, apart from Edward the Confessor, most of them were pretty rough types, why not make their expletives as modern as the rest of their speech?’

Pleased with this reassurance, the Worm ploughed into the book. The story follows two strands in time: one in the modern day of 1070, and one set in the decades before this. The Battle of Hastings, as can be expected, is the climatic point: those after it are attempting to deal with its effects, whilst those before it are on a collision course of history heading towards that fateful year of 1066. Our principal protagonist is a man named Walt; crippled from Hastings, he is left to wander Europe whilst considering his past and his allegiance to Harold of Wessex. He meets others on his journey, before finding an element of peace. However, the reader is also taken back a series of decades, rummaging around in the political games of the house of Wessex, Edward the Confessor and William of Normandy.

By far the more interesting narrative strand is the one preceding the Battle of Hastings. It is full of double-dealing and personality clashes (and, in the vain of the majority of other contemporary historical “dramas”, we are provided with plenty of sex). For the history-buff, it provides another snapshot into the lives of William the Bastard (soon to be Conqueror) and the divide in the English nation at the time. The strand set after Hastings is one of tedium for the reader: yes, we sympathise with Walt, but we care little for his choice of companions. However, Rathbone cleverly interweaves both strands, making this a lively read.

Having finished The Last English King, the Worm remains sceptical of the term “historical fiction”. However, it was not an experience to warn him off the genre entirely. If other periods of history are handled in the same polite and persuasive manner that Julian Rathbone accomplishes here, the Worm will be sure to strike out once again.

Buy it here

#246 The Elizabethans (2011)

Author: A.N. Wilson
Title: The Elizabethans
Genre: History
Year: 2011
Pages: 370
Origin: bought brand spanking new
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 
For centuries, the Elizabethan age has been hailed as a Golden one. It was the time of glory, the Armada, Drake and Raleigh; it was the time of religious turmoil and upheaval, of massacres and great changes; it was the time that England composed itself and set the foundations of a world empire and greater successes. Therefore it is little wonder why time and again historians return to the Tudor period as one in which exciting and engaging writing is born. Furthermore, for conservative-hearted historians such as A.N. Wilson, it harks back to a time when England was “great” and a match for anyone.

Rather than take a narrative route throughout the Elizabethan period, Wilson has taken various events and characters in order to provide snapshots into the past. The book is divided into four parts: the beginning of the reign, the 1570s, the 1580s, and ‘the close of the reign’. Throughout all of this Wilson jots about the Elizabethan political map, discussing the Elizabethan religious settlement, Sir Francis Drake, the Armada and the folly of the Earl of Essex. During this the author treads familiar ground, re-wording familiar stories and conclusions. Of greater interest is Wilson’s turns down odd avenues and forgotten corners. This includes a chapter on ‘Elizabethan women’, Sir Philip Sidney, and the likes of Hakluyt and the Marprelate tracts.

Interestingly – and rather confusingly – Wilson kicks off his book not on the upbringing of Elizabeth and the poker hot political situation she found herself in, but instead with a chapter entitled ‘The Difficulty’ that concentrates on Ireland. Yes, Ireland was forever an issue during this period (similar to many others), what with it contributing to the general malaise of Elizabeth’s final years. But to kick-start his portrait of the age with Ireland is an odd choice. What with the second chapter dedicated to the colonising adventures (or is that misadventures?) of the New World, Wilson clearly sets the tone of imperialism and military at the heart of his study.

Such choices frustrate the reader who yearns to stride within Elizabethan England. The lack of any clear narrative bewilders, with Wilson keen to emphasise the impact of moderate contemporary thinkers rather than tackle the key events of the period. Due to this, The Elizabethans feels more akin to a companion-piece alongside other historical works that attempt to not only bring alive the age but also connect the dots that clearly need connecting if anyone is to have a true understanding of the late sixteenth-century.

Angering the Worm was Wilson’s continuing need to digress from the meat of the past, adding paragraphs (that needed stunting) of opinion rather than true debate. Having done a bit of research whilst typing up this review (yes, dear readers, the Worm goes full-hog) the Worm was assured to find that he was not alone in waving fist at Wilson’s written detours. In 2012 Richard J. Evans responded to a piece about Wilson’s short Hitler biography; Evans attacked the lack of original research, clear analysis and the use of personal biases. All of which makes an interesting read, if not a great historian.

Since the birth of this blog the Worm can count two – including this – reads from the hand of Wilson. The first centred on the second Elizabethan age, whilst now the original Elizabethan age has been concluded. The Worm is unlikely to return to Wilson for any future reading, barring that of an upcoming – and highly unlikely – third Elizabethan age. The Elizabethans is an animated read, but one of use only to Tudor buffs who have already visited weightier works.

Buy it here

#245 Tudor Rebellions (2008)

Author: Anthony Fletcher & Diarmaid MacCulloch
Title: Tudor Rebellions
Genre: History
Year: 2008
Pages: 200
Origin: read on the Kindle
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

Tudor Rebellions has an interesting history. First published in 1968 by Anthony Fletcher, it has recently been given a face-lift by Diarmaid MacCulloch in order to bring about a revised fifth edition. It is a read full of debate for the Tudor enthusiast: firm on details and heavy on analysis.

The big rebellions of the Tudor age (1485-1603) are given space and evaluated in turn. The highlights of which include the 1497 Cornish Rebellion when the people of the west marched to London; the 1549 rebellions in which the Cornish (again) revolted against the changes in religion and when Kett led the men of Norfolk against the leaders of the day due to agrarian grievances and protest against poor local government; Wyatt’s rebellion of 1554 in which he hoped to do away with the Spanish-Catholic influence; the doomed 1569 rebellion when the Catholic lords of the country hoped to stem the tide of the Protestant religion; and then, of course, the utter failure of Essex’s pathetic rebellion against Queen Elizabeth at the tail-end of the Tudor period.

The historians give a narrative account of each rebellion before embarking on the heavier and worthier work of analysis of causes and effects. Similar themes are found within each of these events: protest about religion, of agriculture and economic hardships, as well as the myriad disputes in the localities around the country. Throughout history monarchs were able to withstand many of these problems when isolated on their own; when compounded together they caused explosive disturbances.

A continuing theme is the Tudor family’s quest to bring greater power into their hands. This paranoid and bad-blooded dynasty quelled those who disagreed with them within court circles, as well as attempted to subdue the northern and western subjects in the land. This plan was an outstanding success: from rebelling and waving their fists in 1497 and 1549 the Cornish never made a squeak again. They accepted their status, in which bit by bit their tongue and culture was eroded. Yes, the Tudors accomplished much, however, they failed in the lack of suitable heirs in which to continue their family line.

Of high interest is the conclusion drawn from the lack of notable rebellions in the Elizabethan age. Fletcher and MacCulloch argue that there were four successful rebellions in the first half of the Tudor age: Henry Tudor’s victory at the Battle of Bosworth in 1485, the Amicable Grant of 1525 that proved a costly defeat for Wolsey, the overthrow of Protector Somerset in 1549, and Mary’s triumph in 1553 when it appeared that the political nation was conspiring against her succession to the throne. The historians note that such ‘rebellions have been ignored precisely because they were successful’; they future contest that the absence of such rebellions was due to the firm hand of the Elizabethan government in bolstering local Justices of the Peace and in continuing Henry VII’s centralisation of authority. Wyatt’s failure in 1554 meant that the gentry ‘learnt to channel their opposition through parliament’. Of course, Elizabeth was also provided with a religious war in which to stoke the fire of xenophobic and patriotic Englishmen. Either way, the authors are correct in stating that Elizabeth ‘bequeathed to her successor King James one of the most trouble-free kingdoms in Europe’.

Tudor Rebellions is a worthy read for any Tudor enthusiast. It is a great example of scholarly correspondence throughout a period of decades. Fletcher established a book of high importance; MacCulloch has attempted – and succeeded – in updating this read for the benefit of a modern audience. If only more historians united in such a manner, instead of trading blows with one another!

Buy it here 

#229 The Story of Writing (1995)

Author: Andrew Robinson
Title: The Story of Writing
Genre: Language
Year: 1995
Pages: 220
Origin: a tried and trusted library book
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

 

‘Writing is among the greatest inventions in human history, perhaps the greatest invention, since it made history possible.’

This is the central argument within Andrew Robinson’s engaging book The Story of Writing. In the space of two hundred well-designed pages, Robinson manages to chart writing’s history: from the early days of cave paintings to its various branches and off-shoots. The Worm finds such boasting of ‘350 illustrations, 50 in colour’ as rather endearing; harking back to innocent times when colour was a feature that was useable as a bragging instrument. However, there is a greater seriousness within the print itself.

Robinson focuses on some of the key developments in writing. These include the story of the decipherment of the Rosetta Stone; extinct forms of writing (including cuneiform and hieroglyphs, as well as the interesting Linear B script); as well as those pesky undecipherable scripts such as Cretan Linear B, Etruscan inscriptions and the fabulously named Rongorongo. We chart the evolution of the alphabet, with a particular focus on Chinese and Japanese and how it exits within the media and society in the present day.

The reader is treated to various detours down confusing alleyways of human language, forever turning back upon Egyptian hieroglyphics (of which the author is assuredly obsessed). Like the splendid Bill Bryson, Robinson picks up the story of those daring adventurers who deciphered the ancient scripts in the Victorian period. These include the likes of such enigmatic names as Jean-Francois Champollion and Sir Henry Creswicke Rawlinson.

The Worm can safely say that he has never read a more authoritative and entertaining book on hieroglyphics. In fact, the Worm has never read a book on hieroglyphics; which makes the first sentence of this paragraph appear rather redundant. However, the Worm confidently states that the read caused much chin-stroking merriment that he will consider reading subsequent books on hieroglyphics; on which the author, Andrew Robinson, is clearly to thank. The Story of Writing is not a classic of a text, and perhaps – and quite rightly should be if research continues – it will be superseded within a time. However, it is an entertaining text that makes the throat utter glottal sounds of wonder at the discovery of the vast amount of facts that abound on every page. With the reader now knowing the Worm’s depth of hieroglyphic knowledge, they can be content with feeling secure that The Story of Writing can provide a nice introduction into this confusing, bamboozling and wonderful world.

 Buy it here