#249 Alex Ferguson - My Autobiography (2013)

Author: Sir Alex Ferguson
Title: My Autobiography
Genre: Autobiography
Year: 2013
Pages: 390
Origin: bought in Waterstone’s
Nod Rating: 2 nods out of 5

 

‘Football, bloody hell!’ – Alex Ferguson

The man, the myth, the legend. This is true to the many millions who support Manchester United. The agitator, the crook, and the villain to countless others. There is no doubt that Sir Alex Ferguson is a divisive person; for three decades he has watched over and commented on football and been a looming figure. His retirement in 2013 marked the end of an era, whilst his autobiography was released a handful of months later to loud noises within the book publishing community.

It is rare for the Worm to part with his coins of gold and silver for a newly printed hardback book. For a long time the Worm has preferred the cheaper paperbacks, due to their lighter weight for transportability issues. Therefore it is a testament to the legend of Ferguson that seventeen gold coins was exchanged in the counter of Waterstone’s, just so the Worm could get his mitts on what promised to be the definitive autobiography.

Yes, definitive. This is because due to the longevity of his career Sir Fergie has released several books at various points of success in his career (notably in the early nineties and then after the 1999 historic treble). Because of these earlier incarnations the earlier years of Ferguson’s life is given short regard (with a brief chapter on his Glasgow roots). The real story begins in the 2001-02 season when Ferguson first made the announcement that he was to retire, something deemed a great mistake by the manager. So, rather than autobiography of his entire life, it is in fact the final decade – or so – of his managerial career.

Treated with chapter headings of their own are the likes of Beckham, Ronaldo, Keane, Van Nistelrooy, and Rooney. Space is also dedicated to his managerial rivals, such as Mourinho, Wenger, and Benitez (although the latter does not warrant a chapter title… a final dig?). The main momentum of the book is about Ferguson’s building of a final great team at the Theatre of Dreams, a team that was take in a further five Premier League titles, a Champions League (in 2008, as well as a further two finals), as well as an assortment of other cups (such as the badly-treated League Cup and the odd sounding and perceived Club World Cup).

Although newspapers and websites were eager to report on the “truth revealed” between the bust-ups behind the scenes, the reality is a little different. There is no in-depth assessment of his relationship with his key players, rather reminiscing that appears slightly disjointed. Unfortunately, then, for United fans, there is no engaging reveal of the end of Roy Keane’s time at Old Trafford, of the boot that cut Beckham’s face, nor of the building resentment between himself and Wayne Rooney.

Like him, love him, or (as is more probable) loathe him – none can deny Ferguson’s place in the history of football and indeed all of British sport. The game (and clearly United themselves) are all the poorer without him. Unfortunately, this autobiography did not live up to such lofty expectations. Perhaps it was unrealistic of the Worm to expect otherwise when one considers the speed that it was released after his retirement from the sport: a mere matter of months. Will there be a later, fully detailed autobiography from the great man yet? The Worm, of course, will be there ready to part with his gold coins again.

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

#247 Inside the Whale and Other Essays (1962)

Author: George Orwell
Title: Inside the Whale and Other Essays
Genre: Essays
Year: 1962
Pages: 200
Origin: bought in a charity shop for £1.49
Nod Rating: 4 nods out of 5

 
This volume was read during a visit to hospital during October 2013. Having spotted the book, the nurse referenced George Orwell, all of which led to a fruitful discussion. All of this confirms Orwell’s place as one of Britain’s most popular and thought-provoking authors. George Orwell is predominately celebrated as a novelist: a man of ideas and fiction. However, the Worm has recently been turning to his other talent: a man of ideas within the essay format.

This book – Inside the Whale and Other Essays – brings together an exciting and eclectic selection of Orwell’s essays. The title essay, ‘Inside the Whale’, was initially published in 1940, whilst a later edition – printed in 1957 and later under its current title in 1962 – included a vast sprawl of essays. These range from ‘Politics and the English Language’ (previously reviewed by the Worm), ‘Shooting an Elephant’ to an analysis about the impact of Boys Weeklies.

The title essay is a review of English literature in the preceding twenty years (concentrating on the 1920s and 1930s). Orwell bemoans the lack of change in writing style or content, the lack of any real authorial voice in fiction. However, his writing – its impact and sobering effect – is witnessed in other sections. These include ‘Down the Mine’ – taken from The Road to Wigan Pier – what with its outlining of the life of a miner and his arduous journey to and from work; ‘England Your England’ with its observation of the Second World War and what it means for the British people; ‘Shooting an Elephant’ which describes Orwell’s previous life as a policeman in Burma and how he was forced to kill an elephant in order to appear dominant and brave to the locals (‘I often wondered whether any of the others grasped that I had done it solely to avoid looking a fool’); whilst ‘Boys’ Weeklies’ is an odd conclusion to the book, but one that manages to captivate the reader, with its suggestion that such magazines were propagating conservative characteristics held by a different class in a different age.

Orwell is on biting form in ‘Politics and the English Language’ and ‘The Prevention of Literature’. Echoing themes from his seminal novel Nineteen Eighteen-Four, he discusses the freedom of thought and how the contemporary political mood can easily take control. The Worm has previously pondered ‘Politics and the English Language’ at longer length (read the review here).

His turn of phrase, the weaving together of words wrapped in the brutal truth is what makes Orwell such a captivating writer. In ‘Inside the Whale’ he attacks fellow writers who accept the situation of their surroundings: ‘To say “I accept” in an age like our own is to say that you accept concentration camps, rubber truncheons, Hitler, Stalin, bombs, aeroplanes, tinned food, machine guns, putsches, purges, slogans, Bedaux belts, gas masks, submarines, spies, provocateurs, press censorship, secret prisons, aspirins, Hollywood films, and political murders.’ In ‘Down the Mine’ he links coal – the unknown substance – to making the world go round: ‘In order that Hitler may march the goose-step, that the Pope may denounce Bolshevism, that the cricket crowds may assemble at Lords that the poets may scratch one another’s backs, coal has got to be forthcoming. But on the whole we are not aware of it.’ Whilst the beginning of ‘England Your England’ makes a sobering impression: ‘As I write, highly civilized human beings are flying overhead, trying to kill me.’

Inside the Whale and Other Essays is full of enjoyable, eye-opening debate. It sets Orwell out as an essayist and thinker of social issues, as well as prominent novelist. Having come to the end of the read the Worm was full of longing: O, how we could use you now, Mr Orwell.

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

Big Nodder Update

 

Roughly one year ago the Worm formulated a new list of worthy authors who had entertained him since the birth of this blog back in 2009. The term given to those authors who had passed the combined 10-nod mark was that of “Big Nodders”. Back in December 2012 only seven authors had made the grade. Allow the Worm to refresh the mind of the reader:

1. William Shakespeare (7 books – 29 nods)
2. Alan Moore (3 books – 12 nods)
3. Bret Easton Ellis (4 books – 12 nods)
4. Niall Ferguson (3 books – 11 nods)
5. Bill Bryson (4 books – 11 nods)
6. David Starkey (4 books – 11 nods)
7. Thomas Paine (2 books – 10 nods)

It was an interesting table (well, for the Worm anyway… moderately so). Shakespeare was the clear frontrunner, benefitting from the Worm’s guilt at having avoided the old Bard for so many years. However, it was slightly worrying how the likes of David Starkey crept into the list (by sheer perseverance, it is assumed). Good old Tommy Paine was the only one with a 100% record: two books that both gained maximum noddage.

Let us fast-forward the list onwards into January 2014. The members of the Big Nodder club have expanded to eleven, taking in such illustrious names as Charles Dickens and Arthur Conan Doyle, as well as the unforgettable George Orwell and rabble-rouser Frank Miller. (The nod and book count also includes upcoming reviews).

1. William Shakespeare (8 books – 32 nods)
2. Alan Moore (5 books – 20 nods)
3. Charles Dickens (3 books – 12 nods)
4. Bret Easton Ellis (4 books – 12 nods)
5. Frank Miller (4 books – 12 nods)
6. Niall Ferguson (4 books – 12 nods)
7. George Orwell (3 books – 11 nods)
8. Bill Bryson (4 books – 11 nods)
9. David Starkey (4 books – 11 nods)
10. Thomas Paine (2 books – 10 nods)
11. Arthur Conan Doyle (3 books – 10 nods)

The list remains exclusively male, whilst the leader clearly remains Bill Shakespeare. The big movers are comic book writer Alan Moore (with two reviews upcoming for your delight, dear readers), as well as George Orwell. There is a clear dominance of graphic novelists, historians and Victorian novels, and yes, four-hundred year-old plays.

Again, the point of all of this moving and tussling is… well… pointless. But the Worm likes a good table. At some other slow-point in his book-reading life he will update the table once more. Hooray for the Big Nodders and their authorial hi-jinks!

#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 

#244 A Brief History of the Future (1999)

Author: John Naughton
Title: A Brief History of the Future – The Origins of the Internet
Genre: History
Year: 1999
Pages: 320
Origin: bought in a charity shop
Nod Rating: 2 nods out of 5

 

A Brief History of the Future is about a brief history of the recent past. It is just one of many congratulatory books on the benefits and wonder of the internet. Why so many books? The reason is sound: the internet has been deemed by a considerable many as one of the greatest inventions in the history of humankind. This current information revolution is comparable to that of the Industrial Revolution and earlier invention of the printing press. It is a breakthrough in which everyone is keen to wax lyrically: Eric Schmidt believes it is the ‘the largest experiment in anarchy that we have ever had’, whilst Clifford Stroll has compared it to a ‘telephone system that’s gotten uppity’. It has expanded knowledge and mayhem, a ‘Wild West’ in which there are no rules.

Clearly, such a source is a fantastic home for reading material. Interestingly, Naughton’s own book is much earlier within this revolution. Printed in 1999, the author speaks of the wonder of the dial-up sound and of speeds that are easily out-gunned in the sparkling future of 2014. What is the Worm doing with such an out-of-date book, you might ask. In truth, the Worm took pity on it. Such was its promise – a combination of humour and insight – that it was impossible to leave it on the forgotten book shelves of charity shop. After all, its only crime was that the source had evolved beyond all imagination.

If anything the spotting of the differences between today and the late 1990s (a mere fifteen years) was one of the highlight’s of the read. Naughton is a warm host, taking the reader through a succession of advances in technology. Each small area is discussed and then connected to the greater whole of the story: that of the internet’s triumph. In a Bryson-esque manner (O yes, that’s right, the Worm has created a term in honour of his long-standing hero Bill Bryson) Naughton keeps the story a human, rather than science/technological affair. The inventors’ lives are described in a humorous and lively style. Indeed, Naughton brings in much autobiographical material; the opening chapter of the book outlines the author’s very own love affair with the internet and its possibilities.

As Naughton notes in the book’s epilogue – paraphrasing Churchill – ‘this is not the beginning of the end; but it is the end of the beginning.’ 1999 was a year in which the internet’s potential was still in its infancy. But we, the smug people of 1999’s future, are not at the end-point of the internet revolution. If anything the Worm chances that we are its adolescents. The future has a long road to chart yet.

Buy it here

#243 Iron Kingdom (2007)

Author: Christopher Clark
Title: Iron Kingdom – The Rise and Downfall of Prussia (1600-1947)
Genre: History
Year: 2007
Pages: 700
Origin: read on the Kindle
Nod Rating: 4 nods out of 5

 

Christopher Clark’s Iron Kingdom was one of those books that the Worm had been eyeing up for years. Always calling him on the bookshelves in various shops, it was forever picked up and toyed with, but the time needed could never be justified. Fast-forward to the summer of 2013 (O yes, the Worm is really that far behind in his book reviews): time was finally found.

But why waste such time on a history of the odd, disbanded state of Prussia? Well, for those exact reasons: that it was odd, and that it was disbanded. The Worm was curious to find out how it developed from a back-water insignificant land to become a major player on the European scene, providing the backbone to the German rise in the first half of the twentieth century. Few other countries have experienced such a sharp rise from nothing; the Worm needed answers.

Clark takes the reader on a journey, chiefly centred on the Hohenzollern family dynasty and their ability to collect titles and pieces of land in order to expand – in an absent minded way – a country of some importance. We are treated to personality analyses of the likes of the Great Elector and, of course, Frederick the Great. Clark is wonderful in weaving together a family story: of their arguments, values, and yet more arguments. The (almost) forgotten ones are also considered, with Clark adding a degree of humanity and an element of humour when needed. Consider the case of Frederick William I: ‘All in all: he was great in small things and small in great things.’  Furthermore, the careers and ideas of various administrators and politicians are examined (such as Stein and Hardenberg), whilst space is fittingly provided for the pivotal role of Bismarck – the Iron Chancellor – in shaping the German nation.

The military might of Prussia and its great victories and humiliating defeats are recounted. Previous historians have focused on Prussia’s thirst for glory, as if they were history’s Klingons. Friedrich von Schrotter once remarked that ‘Prussia was not a country with an army, but an army with a country.’ Clark is keen to continue this idea of a ‘metaphorical resonance of iron’, connecting the image of the Iron Cross with Prussian flags and military heroism. Such militarism has been attacked by many academics, with many joining the dots of Frederick the Great to the later Nazi leaders. The Second World War painted Prussia as a toxic brand; the British war-time minister Bevin once commented that just doing away with Hitler and Co. would not be enough to ensure a post-war peace: ‘It was Prussian militarism, with its terrible philosophy, that had to be got rid of from Europe from all time.’

Thankfully, Clark offers a fresh perspective on the inevitability thesis of war. He attempts to do away with the idea – trumpeted by A.J.P. Taylor, among others – that there was a clear connection from Frederick the Great to Bismarck and onwards to Hitler. One of the author’s central arguments is how Prussia was not the road to the destiny of German nationhood, nor that Prussia was the reason for Germany’s calamity, its obsessions with militarism, and pursuit of world wars. Rather that the nation-building reached in the late nineteenth century was the ‘undoing’ of Prussia and all that it had achieved in its history.

Interestingly, Clark attempts to define “Prussian-ness”. He states that it had ‘a curiously abstract and fragmented sense of identity’, with no shared sense of history, of language, or values. He adds:

‘The core and essence of Prussian tradition was an absence of tradition. How this desiccated, abstract polity acquired flesh and bones, how it evolved from a block-printed list of princely titles into something coherent and alive, and how it learned to win the voluntary allegiance of its subjects – these questions are at the centre of this book’.

Unfortunately, the book does suffer in areas. Much of Prussia’s social history is ignored, with Clark conforming to the old familiar route of dealing with a nation’s leaders. More frustratingly was the clear issue of pacing. For example, there is a heavy focus on 1813 and a build towards the climatic Battle of Waterloo, only for the big event to be glossed over in a couple of pages. Furthermore, the need to explore the Prussian state to its hideous endpoint in Hitler’s Germany appears forced and – again – rushed. Far better, perhaps, to have left the book in 1918 with the Kaiser’s demise and the end of the Hohenzollern link.

All in all, the Worm was thankful for finding the time to read Iron Kingdom. A fitting title for an iron-clad read based on an enigmatic and dazzling state that once flickered bright before being snuffed out into darkness.

Buy it here

#242 Days of Future Past (1980)

Author: Chris Claremont (writer), John Bryne (pencils), Terry Austin (ink)
Title: Days of Future Past
Genre: Graphic Novel
Year: 1980
Pages: 180
Origin: read on the iPad
Nod Rating: 2 nods out of 5

 

What with Superhero movies all the rage in recent years, the Worm has taken a fancy to having a peek at the original source material. The big blockbusters have taken in billions, however, it all started on the tablet-ops of artists and writers both intent on creating on creating an action story that would captivate the imaginations of young people. This particular read – Days of Future Past – is one that stroke the interest of the Worm considering the impending release of yet another X-Men film (the sixth in the “franchise”). Like a glutton for punishment, the Worm has sat through many turgid releases; ever in search of the great superhero film (much like the search for that elusive Great American Novel), the Worm even watched every minute of The Wolverine… The ending clip of which set up proceedings for celluloid’s take on the original Days of Future Past storyline.

Days of Future Past has become something of a legendary storyline within comic-reading circles, originally published across a couple of issues back in 1980. Its plot finds a beaten and older set of X-Men in a dystopian future in 2014. Mutants have been declared illegal, and as such have been removed in a variety of violent ways causing much death and misery. The violence stems from the iconic Sentinels: large robots with an array of mutant hunting devices. Despite being annoyingly inconsistent in terms of power in their various incarnations, they are heavy-weight villains that the recent movie series has been severely lacking. Jumping back into the past is the recently introduced character Kitty Pryde, her mind melding with her younger self in 1980. Warning the 1980s X-Men about impending doom, they set out to prevent the trigger that leads to later events: the assassination of Senator Robert Kelly by the evil Brotherhood of Mutants.

The storyline proved popular, leading to much creative ammo in subsequent decades (in particular the animated series of the 1990s, as well as the upcoming Hollywood film). However, for the Worm, it failed to live up to the much vaunted expectations harnessed by the comic community. Graphic novels have evolved a long way since 1980, providing the reader with less direct spoon-feeding of information and in-depth character portrayals. Days of Future Past has more in common with the Marvel comics of Stan Lee’s heyday back in the 1960s: simple story-telling that leaves no lasting effect on the reader.

Was such a comic ever intended for the Worm? An interesting Alan Moore quote – a man who has made his name as a writer in the comic industry – would firmly answer in the negative. He noted: “I think it’s a rather alarming sign if we’ve got audiences of adults going to see the Avengers movie and delighting in concepts and characters meant to entertain the 12-year-old boys of the 1950s.” As such, perhaps the Worm should leave his judgment for others more connected with the source material. No matter, he will at some point watch the upcoming X-Men movie whilst munching on popcorn… perhaps only then this recent, underwhelming read will finally find a fitting home.

Buy it here

#241 England: The Autobiography (2005)

Author: John Lewis-Stempel (ed.)
Title: England: The Autobiography
Genre: History
Year: 2005
Pages: 420
Origin: a Christmas present
Nod Rating: 2 nods out of 5

 

The tagline for Lewis-Stempel’s edited collection of sources boasts: ‘2,000 Years of English History By Those Who Saw It Happen’. For the pedant – of which club the Worm is a firm member – it is noticeable that many of these accounts are not contemporary: some being written many years later after actually occurring. However, the Worm will let the editor off of such minor faults; it is (a) Christmas (book), after all!

England: The Autobiography is an interesting idea. The gathering together of snapshots from English history cannot – surely – go wrong. It begins with Julius Caesar’s account of invading Britain in 55 BC, and concludes (rather disappointingly) with the 2005 cricket Ashes win. O, how history unfolds. For the most part the book travels a well-trodden path: the Battle of Hastings, the signing of Magna Carter, the Black Death, the Armada, the English Civil War, Waterloo, the Diamond Jubilee, the World Wars, the 1966 World Cup, Churchill, and Thatcher. How very ordinary, you may claim.

Luckily, the editor sees fit to expand on this. Particularly within the entertainment and sporting sectors: the Beatles, the Sex Pistols, Wimbledon, and the birth of football. As well as – more interestingly – the various taboos of history: Richard I massacring his Muslim prisoners, an anonymous court recorder from 1300 noting sex in the country, the torture of a Jesuit priest in the Tower of London during the close of the Elizabethan period, public executions at Tyburn, as well as the combination of prostitutes and peers in a gin-palace from 1800s London. Yes, much better.

History is – as they say – written by the winners. For the most part this signifies that English history is that of upper-class aristocrats and the gentry. Thankfully, Lewis-Stempel references the rise of the “common folk”, as shown in the Victorian period: the injustice of factories, the Peterloo massacre, the Manchester slums, and the Chartist movement. All of which serves to make this collection a well varied and balanced one.

Writers within this book range from George Orwell to Bede, from William Shakespeare to Sir Isaac Newton, from Guy Fawkes to Friedrich Engels, from Samuel Pepys to Max Hastings. Therefore, the reader is (mostly) in good company. All in all, England: The Autobiography is an interesting read and worthy of a place on any bookshelf. It should be relied upon as a reference book, rather than anything more. Lewis-Stempel has chosen some wise passages, if on the whole most being particularly uninspiring.

Buy it here