Book review: "Wars of the Roses: Ravenspur, Rise of the Tudors", by Conn Iggulden (part 4 of a 4 part series)

Synopsis: Earl Warwick is back! This time, it's from exile, and accompanied by a largely French-funded army, with the intent of removing Henry VI from the Tower of London, and sticking him on the throne at Westminster palace, therefore making Edward IV's dubious rule null and void. He's off to a good start, as Edward and Richard of Gloucester (who will one day lament over a lost horse in his role as Richard III) are caught unawares, and forced to flee the country, seeking refuge in the home of the Duke of Burgundy...

But it's not long before they're back, and thanks to Edward's charismatic influence, they're able to rally enough support to stage a counter-attack. A couple of bloody battles later, and power is theirs again, with all ghosts laid to rest...

Right...?

Of course not.

As a shining hope for the Lancaster cause emerges, the last of the Plantagenet line struggles to keep hold of its heirs, and it's "all in" from all players in this bloody 30 year game of cat-and-mouse, as both sides make their way to Bosworth field...

Review: "Who is this man, this over-looked and under-appreciated almost super-human "king", otherwise called "Edward IV"?", is a question that you may well find yourself repeating throughout this final chapter in an outstanding piece of semi-fiction. Yes, it seems that history doesn't like strong leaders nearly as much as it likes devious, cowardly villains (more on that later...)... or perhaps because he was a "usurping king", from a weak and tenuous royal line who's main claim was that some M.P.s (unreliable at the best of times) voted his father, the late Richard of York, to be their stand-in-monarch. Edward had inherited this honour the moment Richard of York STOPPED fighting battle in vain, and his head started having spectacular views of York from it's vantage point of the city's gate. Or maybe it's because his tenacious ambition to be king had dragged out a chaotic, bloody and frankly complicated civil war that seemed to have no end, and which few hoped to survive.

Whatever the reason, Edward is not a favourite for the history classes, and it's a shame because as "Ravenspur" shows he was, for want of a better word, a bit of a bloody legend. Proving himself countless times on the battlefield, often vastly outnumbered, under-prepared, under-funded or (in the case of Towton), knee deep in snow, Edward apparently terrified his opponents... and with good reason. They say "It's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog that counts". But just in case the fight inside this dog wasn't enough, life decided to make him over 6 feet tall (a giant in the comparatively short-statured world of 15th Century England)... and also, a ruthless and efficient killing machine.

However, being a giant womanising alpha-male with a steel liver and an appetite for destruction apparently has a downside- namely, you might suddenly die at 40. Cue stage... and... RICHARD ON! After a well-timed accusation that Edward's sons are illegit, Richard makes the noble sacrifice of taking the crown from their barely pubescent heads, and sticking it on his own... and act which, somewhat unsurprisingly, would result in a pretty stressful and risk-filled life! (who'd have thought???).

Lost and found: Richard III

As I was reading Ravenspur, I tried to constantly be aware of how Iggulden was portraying Richard III. Ask anyone (*anyone who is not from Leicester) what they thought of him, and they'll tell you he was a cold-blooded, hunchback fiend, who murdered his nephews and more than likely a few more poor sods on the way. However, it appears that we largely have Shakespeare to blame for this. For all his great works about Italian nobles roaming around the countryside slicing each other up like pastrami, his portrayal of Richard III is hardly flattering... and more importantly, possibly completely inaccurate! As I mentioned before- everyone loves a character, especially if he's been dead for 500 years and has a sinister rumour revolving around him. Undoubtedly, Richard committed ruthless acts on the way to becoming king and beyond... but MORE than his predecessors, or those around him? Unlikely. Iggulden does a great job of leaving us guessing about the princes in the tower, never quite letting on the "truth", and only hinting subtly at possible leads towards potential assassins... However, as he plainly admits at the end, it's his personal opinion that it WAS Richard who quietly disposed of his two nephews.

As for his classic hunchback- again, might be slander, or the misrepresentation of a normal growth of muscle from the result of a lifetime playing around with 2-ton swords. Although, he did have a crooked spine, so unless Shakespeare somehow tampered with THAT, I think the photographic evidence speaks for itself...

Of course, this whole series of books is made infinitely more interesting by the (fairly) recent discovery of Richard's skeleton. In 2012, after a huge amount of research and, as it would turn out, a minimal amount of digging, he was discovered in the FIRST TRENCH dug in the archaeological search for his remains in Leicester. Furthermore, it's said they he was found under a parking space that had the letter "R" (for "Reserved") on it... but, as we've seen so many times in this book, hearsay and rumour are convincing little things. Maybe this will be the final legend that is added to Richard III's name... :)

Richard III skeleton discovered- Youtube

"I told zem we already got one!"- The French knights
outwit an English King yet again...

From the character development throughout the final three books (of which there's FAR TOO LITTLE BLOGSPACE to go into now!), it's evident that Richard WAS a deeply complex person, and far more than a caricature of himself. Which makes what I'm about to comment on even more of a shame. You see, I felt like this whole series was building up to the battle of Bosworth. It's certainly the most famous battle in the War of the Roses, and a natural finale- the murdering, usurping king falling to make way for the younger, more exotic Henry Tudor, recently landed in Wales at the head of a largely French army...

And yet, the battle didn't seem to receive nearly as much attention as the battle of Towton did in Bloodline. It was disappointing to miss out on Iggulden's masterclass of battlefield description, which have proven to be vivid and piercing. It all felt quite rushed at the end- and that's a shame, considering that (as Iggulden himself described), there was a real risk, especially for Richard, who had lost both his wife and son shortly before. Now heir-less, he knew that even if he survived the battle and his bloodline didn't get trampled into the dirt by a horde of angry Welsh and French hired-hands (who were by that time so used to assisting vague claimants to the English throne that they probably saw it as a gap-year), then he'd still have to get a move on to make the Plantagenet name last another decade...

Unfortunately for him, of course, history had other plans.

"Tudor". Now THERE'S a name you
can trust not to cause a scandal... ;)

So, Bosworth fell flat, for me... but that's not to put a damper on a supreme set of books. It's been great fun reading this series- I've learnt more information about the Wars of the Roses than I will probably ever use (and I'm all the happier for it!), and I hope that Conn Iggulden and such writers continue to write books that take the worlds of our fascinating ancestors, and put them in the grasp of the ordinary hobby-reader.

Score: 8/10

Book review: "Wars of the Roses: Bloodline", by Conn Iggulden (part 3 of a 4 part series)

Synopsis: With the defeat of Richard of York at the battle of Wakefield, Queen Margaret of Anjou and her Lancastrian forces head victoriously towards London. There's a nasty surprise, though, as their riotous surge south has scared the inhabitants of the capital stiff, locking her out and forcing her back north. In another unfortunate twist of fate for the red-rosed royals, Edward of March enters London unobstructed, crowns himself king, and leaves London as Edward IV, hot on the Queen's tail to face her at the bloodiest battle ever fought on British soil- the battle of Towton.

Having thoroughly dealt with his family's enemy of the best part of 30 years, Edward is free to rule... but old habits die hard, and it's not long before he's seeing conspiracy and treason amongst the very men who put him where he is. As he embarks on a mission to "trim the vine" of the powerful house that made him king, patience begins to wear thin, tempers start to fray, and King Edward will find that tables that turn quickly, will quickly turn back...

Review: Apparently, it's actually quite easy to become king- you just rock up, cobble together some half-baked story about a distant ancestor and a Parliamentary Act you inherited from your dad, throw a few thousand pounds around, and make sure you've got enough pissed-off locals to do the dirty work for you. It also helps if the current king, the one you're trying to overthrow, is as fabulously unpopular as Henry VI- in fact, that's a key part. And if you can capture him and keep him prisoner for years without most people apparently noticing or caring, then you know you're onto a winner...

The hard part- as Eddie and countless others before and since have discovered- is holding on to your well-earned title. There's several approaches one could take; 1) be a bloody good king, SO good that common-folk will wonder how they ever survived without you, 2) be brutally oppressive, slaughtering anyone who whiffs of rebellion, 3) marry a manipulative control-freak and let her work her way through your list of enemies... or, there's secret option number 4) a corrupted cocktail of all of them!

And the part of Lady Macbeth for tonight's performance will be played by Elizabeth Woodville. Yes, as soon as she's Edward's queen, this recent graduate from the "A woman's guide of how to piss of the Nevilles and lead your country into a state of perpetual war" course (presumably taught by Margaret of Anjou) sets about applying her new techniques with fury, fully convinced (and not without reason) that the Neville family has spent too much time reproducing and marrying off (and repeating) and not enough time doing whatever else rich and powerful people are supposed to spend their leisure time doing...

So, who's first on the list? Well, let's start off with an easy one. Cruella Woodville believes that Archbishop and tubby Nevillite George Neville has had far more than his share of bishopping around the country, and it's time to let someone else have a go at it for a change. In a move of Biblical irony, the bishop is drained of his power once his seal is taken from him, like Samson having his hair cut...

One down, two to go...

Then there's never-quite-sure-if-he-really-is-a-psychopath John Neville, who you felt sorry for in "Trinity" after he had his fairytale alfresco wedding interrupted by a half-arsed attempt on his life by Henry Percy and his bunch of merry wedding-crashers, but who now never seems to be around unless there's someone who requires their head to be immediately and permanently removed from their shoulders. Ever since its former owner Thomas Percy died at Towton, he's been lounging it up in Percy's lands and residence, presumably laughing maniacally and throwing darts into his portrait late at night. Well, the fun stops here, John, as your spoils are going back to their rightful owner- a spotty Percy youth captured and kept in the tower of London, forgiven and released by King Edward.

What happens when the king you created...

... goes rouge?

And finally, Elizabeth turns her attention to Richard Neville, recently promoted to Earl of Salisbury (although affectionately and, to avoid confusion, known simply as Warwick). Despite being rich to an extent that you expect him to put on a top hat and pull out a pocket watch every 30 seconds, Warwick has come up with a way to get even richer... this time, REALLY rich, and REALLY forever. What could it be?  I smell a wedding! Yes- you've guessed it- the one-trick-pony strikes again, and Warwick decides not to break with tradition. Instead of retiring gracefully and concentrating on his hobbies, Warwick plays a dangerous game of "poke the 6ft 4" usurping English king into provocation" by engaging his daughter, Isabel Neville to the King's own brother, George of Clarence. Unsurprisingly, under the influence of his wife, Edward says no... but Warwick, God bless him, is a "kingmaker"...

... and where there's a will, there's a way! :D

On a more serious note about the importance of this book- people often ask me, "Why do you study history? What's the point? It's all in the past, it's not relevant now". They'll even add, when it comes to ancient history, "It was TOO LONG AGO to affect today, so what does it matter?" At this point, I could easily go on a tirade about how hugely wrong these cynics are- how everything had a birth, a lifespan, and a death. How every reality that we often take for granted today started out as an idea, and one to be feared and shut away, but eventually gaining ground, and turning into a struggle that many people viewed as more valuable and long-lasting than their own temporary time on Earth. How England didn't always have a middle-class, universal healthcare, or even educate the vast majority of it's population, most of whom would be considered an ancient old biddy if they made it past 40. And I could also confidently say that without a study of history, we are in danger of going backwards, not forwards. No- today, I'm going to play devil's advocate, and I'm going to give them their way... a little bit.

Let's say that all that they've said is true, and that learning about history is pointless. Let's cast our minds into a state where it's possible to believe that we don't need to study the actions of our ancestors, or for even a mere moment contemplate gaining any lessons from their misfortune or triumphs. Let's imagine that as a human race, we all agree that any attempt to consider where we are today as a direct consequence of what happened prior is a futile and fruitless venture. Even in this meaningless and depressing dystopia, I would still recommend this book, this entire SERIES, in fact, based solely on the fact that it's INTERESTING.

It's true that most books, with a handful of exceptions including holy scriptures, aren't likely to transform your life. Even the handiest self-help books can't guarantee they'll help you live better, find love, or even write great blogs... :) And Bloodline, like most books, falls into the over-populated category of books that are PRACTICALLY almost useless, in terms of the impact it can have towards making you a "better person". True- it's not likely to to get you a job, or help you score at a bar... at best, it might win you a couple of quid on pub-quiz night. And yet, like so many great books, despite its lack of "practical application", it doesn't feel worthless. Quite the opposite. Holding it while you read feels like holding something immensely important and of great value- like an ancient and finely crafted chess set, with each of its pieces beautiful and impressive in it's own right. The books absorb you based on the sole fact that you are curious, and you want to be entertained. They deliver- and what's more, you spend the rest of the day struggling to ever really shake these vividly painted ghostly faces of our ancestors from your mind.

Finally, as cliche as it might sound, Bloodline does what all great historical fiction does, which is put a name to a face, and then breathe life into it. It's one thing to read about the exploits of Edward IV- "He was the son of Richard of York, he won the battle of Towton, he became King and married Elizabeth Woodville..." etc etc. It's quite another to meet him as a boisterous 14 year old, play-fighting with the guards with a wooden sword, watching him grow into a giant 17 year old, able to wrestle with fully grown and experienced knights, feeling the pain of a tragedy-stricken son as he hears and reacts to the news of his father at the battle of Wakefield, becoming drunk on bravado and trust in the belief that his friend and mentor has in him to become king, and the pain, anger and resolution that he feels as he realises that he has to burn the very bridges he crossed to get to the throne. Conn Iggulden, a man who was surely born to put the "story" into "history", will make you fully and intensely interact with these real historical figures, whose world is now yours to explore, and who had their personal stories told by a true master of the craft.

Score: 9/10

Book review: "Wars of the Roses: Trinity", by Conn Iggulden (part 2 of a 4 part series)

Synopsis: As Henry VI is no longer seen as healthy enough to run jolly old England, Richard of York is official protector of the realm while he recovers... much to the disgust of many. It seems that, although Richard is doing a pretty good job at 1) not being invaded by France, and 2) not letting the country burn to the ground on the whole, still only the sight of Henry VI sitting on his throne will satisfy York's harshest critics, the fiercest of those being Queen Margaret. And what better Christmas present for her than for her husband to come to on Christmas day, march to London, and reclaim the throne?

Cast out with his tail between his legs, York faces accusations of treason, a bud he is very keen to see nipped. He (rather unwillingly) gets the chance at the dramatic battle of St. Albans, which sees York clear his name, keep his fame and fortune... and then some! But is he safe from the Queen's clutches? You might think so... but no. As she calls in innumerable favours from abroad, she takes a gamble on a manoeuvre that is designed to see York and his family tree ousted from the power struggle in England. But will it be enough? And if so, what roots of the York family remain waiting under the surface...?

Review: I can see why Conn Iggulden wrote this as a series- the character development would have been impossible if it were any shorter. Take Yorky-boy (Richard). In my last review, I compared him to Lord Farquaad from Shrek, a similarity which although I still hold to be largely true (ESPECIALLY the rubbing-his-hands-with-glee malevolence), I also feel a pang of guilt because it doesn't tell the whole story of the man. Much more so in "Trilogy" than in "Stormbird", you feel a real sympathy for York. At times, you just think "He's not a bad bloke. He's just trying to make a quick buck, obtain another 50 manor houses, and be irrefutable divine-appointed leader of a nation. Who DOESN'T want that???".

He's a man with ambition, a quality in most circumstances, but apparently a vice if your ambition is to become "God's man-on-the-ground". And here's where Richard's character is truly exposed to his credit. He doesn't appear to WANT to be king, even though his various promotions seem to be leading straight towards that path. In fact, he throws somewhat of a hissy-fit when the chant "Richard of York is a stinky traitor" does the rounds. To which his response is- and his logic is questionable, here- to "accidentally" go to battle with the king's troops at St. Albans. What better way to show you love your king than by getting all your forces together, slaughtering half his army, and basically standing over his broken body saying "NOW: SAY I'M NOT A TRAITOR!".

In the wacky world of Pre-Tudor politics, apparently that's a great way to get yourself promoted, as Richard is then named heir (for some reason that, I must admit, I wasn't able to pick up on... I think it was something to do with the condition that he'd stop killing everyone first). What's more, he's never short of chances to "do a Macbeth" and get rid of Henry. Barely a page goes by when him or one of his offspring isn't alone with the semi-conscious king, the perfect chance for an unhappy
accident. York and Henry seem to spend more time alone than Henry and his wife! (And DEFINITELY more than York and his). Still, Richard's attitude towards being regent is only slightly above a simple "meh...".

Seriously, though, I think Conn puts it best in his epilogue, as follows:

"He was a complex man, and no clear villain. I could not escape the strong sense that neither York nor the house of Lancaster particularly wanted the struggle. Each house was forced into war, out of fear of the other". 

... and Lady Macbeth.

Fair's fair! Margaret of Anjou...

And while you start to feel that, aside from his over-reaction to a little name-bashing, Richard of York has a genuine cause, you also can't help picturing Margaret of Anjou more and more as Lady Macbeth. She certainly works hard to gain the reputation, pushing Henry to trump every card that York plays, when he's even aware of where he is, of course...

                                                        
Poor Henry- a mere pawn in between Margaret and Richard's deadly game... with the obvious difference that a pawn can at least take any enemy that is directly diagonally in front of them, whereas Henry is usually too ill to even leave his tent (a move which almost proves fatal for him on TWO occasions!).

While we're on the chess metaphor, the queen certainly manages to move far more squares than the king! Tenacious and imaginative in her ways to make sure that York is destroyed, Margaret is a whirlwind to be reckoned with as she does a grand tour of the British Isles, trying to find people that her adopted countrymen the English haven't slaughtered, invaded or pillaged from recently, in order to support her husband's right to the throne... no easy task! In the end, she actually has to settle for a bunch of rowdy Scots who, until their king was killed when his cannon decided to explode more outwards than forwards, actually supported Richard's claim to the English throne. Still, there's nothing that an arranged marriage can't fix (or destroy) apparently, and with Maggie at the helm, off they bloody well trot, happy as Larry, to go kill some English. Which English? To which they reply, "Who knows? And who the hell even cares?".

Margaret has engaged in the age-old English tradition of importing monarchs, and although her late father-in-law Henry V made seeing how many French knights he could fit on a pike somewhat of a hobby, you'd have thought that watching his son let his inheritance fall into anarchy would be fun for her. Again, not so. She's married to him, after all... and that rainy little Euro-sceptic island on the edge of Europe is her son's inheritance. CAN love conquer all? As we head into the third book "Bloodline",  with the House of York scorned and vengeful, and with no more children to marry off, Margaret must be wondering how long it'll be until her luck finally runs out...

Score: 8/10

Book review: "Wars of the Roses: Stormbird", by Conn Iggulden (part 1 of a 4 part series)

Synopsis: Detailing an often over-looked part of English History, "Stormbird" essentially lays out the foundations and build-up to the War of the Roses (1455-1487). Henry VI, a physically weak king who many see as unfit to rule, still clings on to power. With such a lack of faith in the king's abilities to lead, a well meaning (but ill-conceived) attempt to secure peace with France for the next 20 years is arranged- a marriage between Henry VI and France's Margaret of Anjou. Happy to be out of her oppressive father's house and become something in life, Margaret is ready to take on her new responsibility as joint-sovereign of England. But, it comes with a catch- the English owned regions of Maine and Anjou are handed back over to France as soon as the matrimony is complete. Feeling they've been betrayed by their king, grieved landowners gather around the violent and tumultuous Jack Cade, who marches on London with the intent of bloody revenge against the royals for their injustices. Meanwhile, there's conspiracy within the ranks of the ruling class, as Richard of York plots and schemes in an effort to become King of England. With no heir to speak of, London at a knife's edge, and powerful men out for her husband's crown, Margaret realises that far from the hard life being over for her- it has only just begun.

Review: As previously mentioned, the period that this book describes is not one of the most memorable from your history lessons. Shortly put, you say the word "Henry", you think "the 8th" (or "Hoover"). The exploits of Henry (NOT the 8th) VI and Richard of York (NOT Richard III), for many, have gone largely unnoticed, apart from at least 2 Shakespeare plays dedicated to them.

Still, perhaps this is part of this book's appeal- the fact that it gives you a chance to plug-up gaps in your knowledge. It'll be a delve into the unknown for many- an opportunity to read the story of an ACTUAL event as if it were the first time... which it undoubtedly will be for many! Famous historical events sometimes become SO famous, that they actually become LESS true. Newton was never hit on the head by an apple, Vikings didn't wear horned helmets, and Einstein wasn't bad at maths as a child. See?

Richard III

Richard Duke of York

So, imagine hearing the details of Napoleon- before you were blind sighted by the false rumour that he was short. Or the story of D-day before Hollywood had us all believing that the troops flew in on bald eagles, with Schwarzenegger muscles and cigars between their teeth. This is what this book is- a fresh pasture. And right off the bat, Conn Iggulden says to the reader "I know you're nervous about how little you know about these dark times, but I'm going to walk you through it!", which he does spectacularly.

The pace is best described as "romping"- leaving little time for your mind to wonder or be dragged down with over-descriptions. Very aware that the real history was a lot more drawn-out (for example, as mentioned at the end of the book- the re-taking of Maine and Anjou by the French took 5 years, as opposed to mere weeks in the story...), Igguldon doesn't let it drag or become cumbersome to read. It's a superb compromise between "Couldn't have happened like that!" and "Wwwaaayyy too much detail!".

One criticism might be that some of the characters become almost caricatures. Take Tricky Dicky Richard of York, for example. He's described as being so full of malice and wicked intent that it's hard to picture him as anyone other than Lord Farquaad from Shrek (which is ironic, because actually his son Richard III is the spitting image).
                                                                                       
Still, it is compellingly entertaining, with something of a Game of Thrones theme running throughout (admittedly with a few less dragons and sex scenes). And Iggulden certainly knows how to describe a knife-fight, with such precision and detail that you'd swear you were seeing them in slow-motion. Conn should be careful, though: He doesn't over-use slow-mo blood-spurting and battle cries as much as, say, the movie "300" does... But it's a close one...

Lord Farquaad of Shrek

Interestingly, his main character, Derihew "Derry" Brewer, the king's spymaster, is one of the few fictional pieces in this work. Iggulden explains at the end that, from his research, a person (or, let's face it, a few people) like Derry MUST have existed in order to broker the truce with France. In fact, in the book, the ceremonial screwing-over of English tenants in northern France is Derry's brainchild, an act that he defends to the last. Outside of negotiating difficult international treaties, Derry is a sleek, cool medieval Bond character. From going undercover as a peasant in France in order to infiltrate the king's wedding without Tricky Dicky noticing him, to reporting directly (but often tensely) to Queen Margaret ("M"), there's an instant familiarity with his personage, which is amusing even if it's not strictly accurate. Furthermore, making him an expert in espionage was an ingenious move, as you can't help but wonder if he is fictional, or if he merely slipped himself out of the history books, erasing himself from memory...

Despite having the disadvantage of never actually existing, though, Derry manages to interact with the real-life characters seamlessly- from getting up Richard's nose, who takes time out of his busy schedule of high-treason and moustache-twisting to belittle Derry (never taking the initiative to mention that, according to history, he is mere fantasy), to Lord Suffolk, Derry's close friend and confident, who stands in for the king at his own wedding in France, who takes the flack for losing Maine and Anjou, and who ultimately faces exile for not being a "team-player".

And, what Henry VI-based story would be complete without the appearance of Jack Cade? (Who?).  Exactly. Very little is known about the rebellious Kentish leader, but what we do know is that if ever there was a man to bring a sh*t-storm to London, it's our boy Cady. Terrifyingly aggressive and manic after his son's unjust execution, we're led to believe that "enough was enough", and that Cade was the physical embodiment of the anger over the loss of English territories in France, who led a chanting and murderous mob of a few thousand towards London, for a night out in the city that nobody would forget. But Igguldon won't let that lie- he's planted a subtle seed to make us wonder if (somehow) Lord Farquaad Richard had a hand in the uprising in some sneaky, could-only-be-part-of-a-Disney-plot kind of way... Founded fears? Or more vicious historically inaccurate rumours? Perhaps "Trinity" will solve the case...

Score: 8/10

Book review: "Nomad", by Alan Partirdge

Synopsis: Alan Partridge is back... and this time, he's on the road! After discovering that his late father once failed to show up for an interview at Dungeness Nuclear Power station, Alan (in true Partridge style) feels it his duty to complete the on-foot journey from Norwich to the South Coast that his father never could. After several failed attempts to secure a television deal to record the walk, Alan decides that it must be a spiritual endeavour that will not only honour his late dad, but also teach him more about... him (his father). However, with a strict 2-week limit given to him by North Norfolk Digital's overlord ("boss") Greg, and with only the likes of hapless booze-jockey Dave Clifton and the bebearded Sidekick Simon to cover his ever popular mid-morning slot, will Alan make it back before Monday morning and, if so, will he be a changed man?

Review: For those of you who aren't familiar with Alan Partridge (probably because you didn't have a T.V. during the 90's)- he is a symbol of quite a specific British mindset that, once dominant and making up the status-quo, is now struggling to cope with the modern world of today- one of paying homage to a picture of the Queen, driving to country pubs in a Land rover (or a Volvo, at a push), and going to sleep to the soothing sounds of Jeremy Clarkson.

So, there's something essentially 'British' about Alan Partridge (specifically, his 'little England' mindset, which has shown to be more widespread than ever since the BREXIT referendum), and therefore assists in the more global question(s); "Who is Alan Partridge? And also, what does it actually mean to be 'British'?" One of those (the latter) is a very relevant question that millions of people had to ask themselves in 2016, and this instantly gives a real weight and significance to this topical book.

The book itself centralises around Alan's great journey, but as you can imagine (and would EXPECT, considering it's 274 pages long!), Alan uses the opportunity to engage us in some ruddy good personal insights into the world, life,1 and soul of Alan Partridge. Sadly, though, he largely uses it as a chance to bitch (mostly about Noel Edmonds), to set the record straight (again, Edmonds)... but most importantly, and I cannot stress this enough... to shamelessly name-drop and to show off who he's amiably connected to in the show-biz world (with the exception of Edmonds, with whom he shares a mutual disdain. Alan only refers to Noel by his last name, quoting "I won't dignify him with his full name. Besides, he signs his emails and legal letters "Edmonds", so he started it").

But, his tangents are a more than welcome respite from a frankly arduous march across East Anglia (including a 280 km detour round the back of London- read the book to find out why!). My personal favourite insight into the mind of this unique man, which I've quoted here, gives us a clear picture of Alan's philosophy about revenge:

"When I was young- i.e. up to the age of fifty - almost all of my actions were motivated by revenge. If you had wronged me, then sooner or later you'd have it coming to you. It might not be that week, it might not be that year, but if your name was on the list I kept in a Harrogate Toffee box buried in my garden, then trust me, the die had been cast. And while I have to admit that some of the happiest times of my life have been as a result of getting someone back, the quest for retribution was an exhausting one.

Let's say a colleague has caused offence by failing to compliment you on your new haircut. It's not like they haven't noticed. It's shorter than before, it's got gel in and the way the fringe flops over to the right makes you look, what, four years younger? Yet they don't say a word. Where's the best place to pay them back? Think about it for a moment. You know for a fact they'll be at work every day, you even know where their desk is. But that would be too easy, too obvious, even. Better by far to do it where they feel safest: their home. Order sixty Littlewoods catalogues to be delivered to the place where they live, where their parents live, where their children live, and you can seriously shake them up".

And with those, the ramblings of a border-line sociopath, you very much have a measure of the man.

So, is it funny (Me asking myself)? Yes! (Me answering myself). It's also worth mentioning that, a-typical of a man who both loves the sound of his own voice and loves the sound of his own voice saying his own name, "Nomad" is also available on audio book (or youtube, for you petty-criminals out there). And for all die-hard Partridge fans (all 4 of you), rest assured that you'll get the full Partridge deal. From his affectionate pleas to Angela, his as-of-late ex-girlfriend, to a touching pictorial tribute to Michael, his missing-presumed-dead Geordie friend... to Bill Oddy, who tears himself away from spotting bluechests in order to wish him luck, "Nomad" picks up the life of Alan Partridge from right where you last left it.

Finally, what A. Partridge book review would be complete without an anecdote... about Edmonds?
 Taken from Nomad's chapter 14, simply entitled "Edmonds"

Score: 9/10

1 This is an Oxford Comma, without which no review of anything within the Partridge brand would be complete.

Book review: "War and Peace", by Leo Tolstoy

Synopsis: Starting in 1805, War and Peace takes the reader through Napoleon's disastrous attempted invasion of Russia from a Russian perspective- from the original Russian response (a.k.a. "STOP HHIIMM!"), the truce and alliance, Napoleon's sudden change of heart / aggression, the War of 1812, and Napoleon's subsequent (and hasty) retreat from Moscow. Although it's historical fiction (the characters are based on real people, but it's made quite clear that they are essentially figments of Tolstoy's creativity), it's famously historically accurate (particularly when referring to the battles of Austerlitz and Borodino), and it gives Tolstoy the chance to show that he's not only a competent historian, but also a brave guide who can lead you through no-man's land to show you the daily lives of the people who live at equidistance between war and peace.

Review: Writing a review of this book (rather than a literary analysis essay which, I realise, this could easily turn into) will require great discipline on my part. With that in mind, I'm going to anticipate questions that would-be-readers may have, and answer them (for FURTHER questions, you can always contact me here!)

1) Q: Is it historically accurate?
     A: Largely, yes. Tolstoy relieves himself of the pressure from historians in his last chapter (Published in Russian Archive, 1868) where he writes:

"The divergence between my description of historical events and that given by the historians was not accidental, but inevitable. A historian and an artist describing a historic epoch have two quite different tasks before them. As a historian would be wrong if he tried to present a historical person in his entirety, in all the complexity of his relations with all sides of life, so the artist would fail to perform his task were he to represent the person always in his historical significance".

Tolstoy's basically saying "I'm not a historian (or I'm an amateur one at best)! I'm an artist- I have a license". Having said this, several footnotes (available on the kindle) suggest that Tolstoy did extensive historical research. At no point do you feel that Tolstoy has a far-fetched imagination- nor do you feel that he's completely biased towards the Russians (on the contrary- Tolstoy clearly knows his countrymen well, and is not afraid to delve into the "Russian psyche", flattering or not). Rest assured, though, there is plenty of Napoleon bashing to be enjoyed throughout!

2) Q: So, it's historical fiction?
     A: As a huge fan of historical fiction, I would say it's the Everest of historical fiction. Huge, legendary, majestic- the book all other historical fiction books look up to and aspire to be.

3) Q: And what about the characters? (No spoilers, please!)
     A: They're portrayed with a supreme level of detail (which is one of the main reasons for the length- you'd break your leg if you fell off the paper-back copy!). Take Pierre, for example (many believe he's based on Tolstoy himself). Recently divorced from his promiscuous wife, he finds a new spring to life after joining the Masons. However, as Napoleon's troops approach Moscow, he becomes a would-be assassin (having interpreted from scripture readings that he is destined to kill Napoleon), but is instead captured after a failed attempt to save a woman's honour (a gesture which he is never thanked for, by the way), and forced to retreat with the French troops during the harsh Russian winter. Or Natasha who, having promised herself to the heroic Prince Andrew, is lured into an affair with Dolohov, in which they decide to elope. When he fails to keep his promise, Natasha (who has already broken it off with the prince) attempts suicide, and is only later given the chance to make amends with the then severely injured former fiance.

This pattern of real-life tragedy and occurrences is repeated with between 15 to 20 characters (again- look at the length!). Needless to say, there is no shortage of character development... although don't get too attached. It turns out that Tolstoy is the George R.R. Martin of 19th century Russian literature, mercilessly killing people off, no matter their age or how recently they found love. However, to help us through these arbitrary deaths, Tolstoy helps to console the reader by exploring his own theories on the soul and the afterlife (which is a hell of a lot more than some HBO based T.V. shows offer us!).

4) Q: Speaking of theology- is it pure storyline, or can I expect it to get all philosophical?
     A: Aside from his own musings about our existence in the universe, Tolstoy makes some sound philosophical points about the nature of war according to the time. A personal favourite is when he dispels the myth that "War is like a game of chess". It's with great pleasure that Tolstoy refutes this, pointing out that in chess:

1) You can have as much time as you like to think about your next move (which in my case is usually between 20 and 30 minutes, if I'm in a hurry).

2) In chess, a knight is always more powerful than a pawn, and a bishop is always subordinate to a queen. But in war, a battalion can become stronger than a whole army if properly inspired, and an entire army can be completely wiped out if they're not fighting for the right reasons. Again, troops tend to be more blindingly obedient and self-sacrificing in chess...

3) On a chessboard, there is nowhere to hide/ambush. Everything is in plain sight for the keen eye (not true in a battle!)

This is just one example in which Tolstoy (much like Victor Hugo on the theme of revolutions) became a philosopher about his chosen subject; namely, war. More specifically, the archaic idea of "fair-play"warfare, and the much more progressive (for the time) and effective notion of "Guerrilla warfare" (the differences between these two styles would prove crucial in the outcome of Napoleon's ambitious late-summer excursion to Moscow).

However, a noticeable difference between Hugo's "Les Miserables" and Tolstoy's "War and Peace" is that in the latter, the STORYLINE dominates. Yes, Tolstoy will go on tangents (a particularly aggressive one includes the fact that a military genius doesn't exist, and that even if they DID, Napoleon wouldn't have been one of them!)... but he never loses sight- or at least, he never loses sight FOR LONG- of the plot. It's a book you can pick up at any point and bang out a couple of pages. "Time to jump back in time to Napoleonic Europe!" you can say to yourself, without having to get into a particularly deep or profound mindset.

5) Q: Finally, is it "the greatest novel ever written", as many critics have called it?
     A: I was afraid you were going to ask that question! I can see WHY people would claim that- after all, it has everything: war, some peace (although this is largely interrupted by all the war), love-interests, affairs, secret societies, serfdom, Napoleon... and it all gallops along like a light French cavalry brigade running towards Eastern Europe while being followed by a couple of thousand of pissed-off (and half pissed) Russian militia. All I'll say is this- I, PERSONALLY, thought it was one of the best books I've ever read, but I know many people who've started it and never finished it, claiming it to be boring (FYI they were all French... just kidding :D). If you're into your history, and you've already read quite a few classic books, then maybe it's time to take on the Everest of historical fiction. Much like no-one is ever quite the same once they've climbed Everest, War and Peace will leave its mark on the soul of all who accept the challenge.


Score: 10/10

Book review: "The Metamorphosis", by Franz Kafka

Synopsis: Gregor Samsa wakes up to find that he is a giant beetle. As his secret is revealed to his family, and as they slowly begin to realize that his transformation is irreversible, the relationship between the family and their former breadwinner declines. Despite the fact that he maintains his human mind, he's unable to be understood, creating further distance with his loved ones, causing the family's once understanding feelings to suffer a metamorphosis of their own...

Review: "The Metamorphosis" (or "What not to do if you one day wake up and find you're a giant beetle handbook") is a true original. Firstly, it's a mini-novella, meaning you can read it within the space of an afternoon (which I did, quite comfortably).

So, what's it all about? Well, on the surface, as the synopsis describes, it's the nightmare we all secretly fear of turning into a human-sized insect overnight. However, even the most novice of bookworms will be able to spot a subtext here- it's really an exposure of the very human reaction to one of your loved ones being a giant beetle or, more generally and realistically, losing their aesthetic "normality" and even being deprived of the ability to communicate properly.

Kafka's analysis throughout is "How will the family react to this sudden change in circumstance?". As the author, he plays the early-twentieth century version of "Big Brother" (the T.V. show, not the overlord in "1984"), or that weird, backwards-wearing-hat guy from "The Truman Show". Kafka asked himself, "What will happen if I take an ordinary, hardworking family, and introduce a provocative variable, namely: turning their main brother and son into a burdensome monster? Will I get entertaining, shocking reactions from the remaining parties?" For anyone who has watched enough "Big Brother challenges", the answer is obvious- "You will, sir... but at what cost?".

And so, from the book we learn something that we all secretly know inside, and yet try to convince ourselves isn't true- that we are affected by appearances. Nothing new here, although what IS new (and was no doubt shocking at the time) is the frankness around which the story takes place. Firstly, Kafka offers no explanation as to WHY Gregor becomes a beetle... which is unsettling enough. Then there's the speed at which Gregor becomes a burden to his family. Rather like watching an episode of "Big Brother", or reading "Lord of the Flies", one realizes with what ease ordinary, upstanding people crack under pressure, they themselves turning hideous... all the while under the watchful, giggling jeer of the author of their fate.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that "The Metamorphosis" feels like the literary version of those entertaining and novelty "science experiments" you used to do as a teenager. "What will happen if I burn my arm hair with a bunson burner?" (Answer: It stinks). "What will happen if I freeze my bottle of coke?" (Answer: If you're lucky, it won't explode, and all you'll be left with when it thaws is cold, flat coke.). "Will a giant beetle in the family create an uproar?" (Answer: Undoubtedly).

Score: 8/10