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3.54 AVERAGE
3.54 AVERAGE
informative
reflective
slow-paced
Back in the early 1990's I was part of the QPD club where you got two books of the month unless you cancelled in advance. One month unsolicited I received Note From a Small Island and recall loving the story of his student travels around Europe and from memory fizzed with youthful exuberance and joy. I've read several of his travel books since then including notes from a Small Island so was interested to finally pick this up after receiving it for Christmas a few years ago.
First of all I laughed out loud a lot in this book but I also eventually felt overwhelmed by his perpetual grumpiness and it grew tiring. There is a lot of joy remaining as he frequently extolled the beauty of parts of the country in which I live , and many of his targets for ire are those who I regularly moan about but seeing it in print perhaps made me reflect on my own crabbiness at times and treat it a salutary lesson.
It definitely however makes me one day want to just drive and walk around this island visiting brown signed attractions and sampling all the wonderful beers in the gradually dwindling beautiful pubs, on day providing they survive the pandemic.
I will definitely read Bill Bryson as he is definitely a wonderful creator of funny tales .
First of all I laughed out loud a lot in this book but I also eventually felt overwhelmed by his perpetual grumpiness and it grew tiring. There is a lot of joy remaining as he frequently extolled the beauty of parts of the country in which I live , and many of his targets for ire are those who I regularly moan about but seeing it in print perhaps made me reflect on my own crabbiness at times and treat it a salutary lesson.
It definitely however makes me one day want to just drive and walk around this island visiting brown signed attractions and sampling all the wonderful beers in the gradually dwindling beautiful pubs, on day providing they survive the pandemic.
I will definitely read Bill Bryson as he is definitely a wonderful creator of funny tales .
I really wanted to like this more than I did, since Bryson is one of my favorite writers. It's that general love of him that has this at 3 stars rather than 2. Or maybe my elevated expectations unfairly make me want to make it a 2. Regardless, this just didn't feel like the Bryson I'm used to.
His narrative voice is always rather grumpy, that's part of the charm. But this book veers more toward mean (the Jenner comment, for example, was just unnecessary). Also, though it pains me to say it, I was bored. Yes, I get it, things cost a lot more now. There are lots of pubs. There were some insights, some laughs, but they felt very scattered. It was as if he didn't even want to write the book, and was just getting pages in.
I remember when I finished At Home (which I loved), I felt that Bryson just sounded tired and sad at the end of it. It appears he's moved to tired and angry. This doesn't diminish my love of his other books, but now I'm the one that's sad.
His narrative voice is always rather grumpy, that's part of the charm. But this book veers more toward mean (the Jenner comment, for example, was just unnecessary). Also, though it pains me to say it, I was bored. Yes, I get it, things cost a lot more now. There are lots of pubs. There were some insights, some laughs, but they felt very scattered. It was as if he didn't even want to write the book, and was just getting pages in.
I remember when I finished At Home (which I loved), I felt that Bryson just sounded tired and sad at the end of it. It appears he's moved to tired and angry. This doesn't diminish my love of his other books, but now I'm the one that's sad.
I listened to the audiobook version of this, and took 3 months to listen to the 14 hours of audio. The book is perfect for this. Every chapter is a neat little parcel. Each generally starts with a kind rant on something perplexing but everyday, before moving onto a part of the UK.
Bill drew the longest possible line without crossing water in the UK and then travelled (roughly) northwards along that line. Covering everything from the South coast through the Midlands, into the North and then through Sctoland.
If you've read "Notes from a small Island" (or pretty much any other Bill Bryson book, you know what to expect.
Bill drew the longest possible line without crossing water in the UK and then travelled (roughly) northwards along that line. Covering everything from the South coast through the Midlands, into the North and then through Sctoland.
If you've read "Notes from a small Island" (or pretty much any other Bill Bryson book, you know what to expect.
Just as full of wry observations, comedic interactions and fascinating facts as the original 'Notes from a Small Island'.
I find myself agreeing with Bill Bryson on a great many subjects, but nothing sums that up as succinctly as one of his responses in the Waterstones version Q&A:
Q: Do you believe in life after death?
A: Only if it is not compulsory.
I find myself agreeing with Bill Bryson on a great many subjects, but nothing sums that up as succinctly as one of his responses in the Waterstones version Q&A:
Q: Do you believe in life after death?
A: Only if it is not compulsory.
Gosh I love Bill Bryson, but the curmudgeon level seemed to jump a level or two with this book. This follow up of sorts to "Notes from a Small Island", my very first Bryson book, was good. It has great stories, his trademark humor, and kept me interested. But it could have been titled "Why has all the great stuff in England gone to rubbish?"
Okay, I want Bill Bryson's job: in this particular case, travel the length of the UK, make small talk in pubs with the locals, go on rambling countryside walks, take ferries to remote lighthouses, marvel at mysterious prehistoric constructions, visit more pubs, write down your keen observations, and get paid for it.
In The Road to Little Dribbling, Bryson is at his avuncular best: it's a seemingly effortless blend of historical erudition (which he wears lightly), bemusement at the dumbing down of contemporary culture, exasperated observations about the decline of British civility and the government incompetence that has abandoned previously thriving towns and villages to neglect and decrepitude, but above all an almost childlike, unapologetically enthusiastic wonder at the beauty, history, and culture that is Great Britain. He points out at the end of the book that it would take something like 300 years to see all the museums, archeological and historical sites, and other points of interest, and that's if you were visiting them at the rate of several a day. The trip you'll take with Bryson is a lot more limited in scope, but it's delightful nonetheless.
In The Road to Little Dribbling, Bryson is at his avuncular best: it's a seemingly effortless blend of historical erudition (which he wears lightly), bemusement at the dumbing down of contemporary culture, exasperated observations about the decline of British civility and the government incompetence that has abandoned previously thriving towns and villages to neglect and decrepitude, but above all an almost childlike, unapologetically enthusiastic wonder at the beauty, history, and culture that is Great Britain. He points out at the end of the book that it would take something like 300 years to see all the museums, archeological and historical sites, and other points of interest, and that's if you were visiting them at the rate of several a day. The trip you'll take with Bryson is a lot more limited in scope, but it's delightful nonetheless.
adventurous
funny
lighthearted
medium-paced
Eh. Occasionally an interesting travelog, the good parts were overshadowed by the sheer amount of "old man yells at clouds," sprinkled with occasional racism, transphobia, and classism for variety.
I've read quite a lot of Bryson's books and I appreciate his quick wit and general knowledge, but one detail baffled me in this book: he tells a story of how he happened to glance towards a river at the precise moment when a little child fell in the water and thus managed to save his life and later on he relays the story to a friend who says it was God who made him look that way at that very moment and Bryson thinks to himself: then why did He push him in? Is it possible that someone actually thinks that God pushes kids into rivers? What kind of sadistic psychopath does he think God is? I'm speechless. And a little bit disappointed in Bryson. I hope I'm wrong about him.
I have read several of Bill Bryson's books and enjoyed them all to some extent. This book takes me back to places i have visited before and reminds me of our beautiful countryside. However, there is an awful lot of curmudgeonly Bill in the book too which reduces my rating a little.