Book Review: Bad Science by Ben Goldacre

I have been reading a fair bit of non-fiction recently and the latest non-fiction book I picked up was this damning account of, as the blurb says, “scaremongering journalists, pill-pushing nutritionists, flaky statistics” and “evil pharmaceutical corporations”.

To be honest, this book didn’t have to work hard to win me over: already cynical of certain things that do not make logical sense to me such as homeopathy and links between the MMR jab and autism, Ben Goldacre confirmed many of my suspicions regarding the mangling and manipulation of statistics. And now, thanks to this book, I have the knowledge to back up my suspicions and to cast a critical eye over any future journalese threatening to cause mass hysteria amongst the population at large. I’d be the first person to admit that I am shit at maths and Goldacre not only made me understand some maths, but also enjoy maths - something that a generation of schoolteachers failed to do.

One thing that did grate slightly are Goldacre’s repeated criticism of “humanities graduates” in the media who have little understanding of science, finding it too complicated therefore dismissing it as bunk. As a humanities graduate myself, you can perhaps see why this irked me. I have no doubt that plenty of humanities graduates may hold these kind of views, but I don’t believe I am one of them, and therefore this seemed like a crass generalisation at times. (Upon mentioning this irritation to my partner though, he pointed out that I am fairly unique amongst humanities graduates in that I actually come from a very science-based background, having as I do A levels in Biology and Physics.)

This minor quibble aside, however, I found this a delightful read. What Ben Goldacre has managed to do is write an accessible book about science; one that doesn’t dumb down, but presents its arguments in a way that is understandable to the layperson; one that is both entertaining and extremely informative. And that is simply good writing.

Buy Bad Science by Ben Goldacre

Book Review: Selling Hitler by Robert Harris

Robert Harris is a journalist and writer who is perhaps best known for the hilarious video clip in which he is talking about following Mrs Thatcher on the campaign trail, when she is in fact walking behind him (I say this and then can't find a video on YouTube) . Anyway, Harris has gone on to become a successful author and Selling Hitler: The Story of the Hitler Diaries is a fine example of his captivating, journalistic style.

It is an intriguing story filled with corruption and deception. The book not only tells this thrilling tale of the forgery of the Hitler diaries, but also highlights the fascination with the Nazis which existed (and still does to some extent) in the decades after the Second World War, and how this penchant for Nazi memorabilia facilitates the forgery and the subsequent selling of the diaries. This makes for uncomfortable but compelling reading.

The book is wonderfully written creating an atmosphere of suspense throughout and allowing the reader to imagine vividly the climate in which these events were possible.

If you're after a book with a gripping, yet factual story about an event which has since gone down in history as one of the biggest journalistic blunders ever, then this I would definitely recommend.

Buy Selling Hitler: The Story of the Hitler Diaries.

The Joy of Book-Collecting

In my last entry, I mentioned the joy of owning books. Today I am going to talk about collecting and my experiences of it.

I collect, amongst other things, old Penguin books - partly because I like the bold colours of the covers and partly because they are abundant and cheap to pick up. They are of very little, if no, monetary value, but I enjoy collecting them because they are not only aesthetically pleasing and look good on my bookshelf, but also because I enjoy imagining how many different people have held and read the book and enjoyed the words inside. Old books have quite a mystical quality, as if they contain all the secrets of those who have pored over the book in question. Well, maybe that's just me.

The problem one has when collecting books is, of course, space. I live in a small flat with my boyfriend, who has instructed me that I am only allowed as many books as will fit in our bookcases. He hasn't given a definition of 'fit' though, so I am planning on doing my usual trick of cramming them in on top and in front of other books. My dream is one day to have my own small library.

The joy of book-collecting is that the collection has a greater purpose than simply being aesthetically pleasing or even historically interesting. To the pleasure of collecting, you can add the pleasure of reading, making book-collecting an extremely productive hobby. After all, books exist to be read.

Book News

Penguin Books Launches New Dating Website
I think a dating site specifically aimed at book-lovers is a fantastic idea. Basically, Penguin have teamed up with the people at match.com, which probably means you have to pay to send anyone a message, but I suppose it depends how keen you are to meet someone who loves books as much as you do.

Famous Five Returns
The Famous Five, Mallory Towers and The Magic Faraway Tree are all set to return in the next year or so. I used to love the Famous Five, but I do wonder how well the new ones will fare with a different author. Enid Blyton was my favourite author as a child and I'm not sure anyone can replace her.

Kindle Fails to Set Light to Unsold E-Book Pile
The Register questions whether Kindle (an e-book reader) and e-book sales are really as high as the manufacturers' claim. I can almost understand why they are not as popular as was hoped. I personally have no desire to own an e-book reader: I love collecting books too much. I collect antique books as well as anything that strikes me as interesting or unusual as well as anything I just want to read. Why? Because I love the feel and smell of books and I love the feeling of pride I get from ownership. Books to me are very much physical things and if we got rid of them and all gave in to e-books, then I feel we would really be losing out on something.

The Idler 41: The QI Issue

As a fan of the TV show QI, this was a must-read for me. Strictly speaking it is a magazine not a book, as such, but it is bound and printed like a book, therefore I shall review it as a book. So there.

Anyway, it sets out the QI manifesto, which is an admirable piece for anyone who believes in knowledge and learning rather than schooling, and then holds a collection of essays and writings all around the theme of knowledge and learning (in the sense that some of them provide you with knowledge while some are actually about the idea of learning), which were informative, exciting and indeed Quite Interesting. I feel I've learnt plenty and not just in the way of facts and figures - ideas too.

Highlights include the section on How to Set up a School (apparently, this can be done in your local pub), the essay on education today, John Lloyd's "Notes from a Book I Cannot be Bothered to Write" (surprisingly good - made me wish he could be bothered to write it) and the conversation with John Lloyd and John Mitchinson. What a joy it was to read three such intellectual giants* (I'm including the man from the Idler in this) debating the issues that are so dear to them.

A fantastic book, but the one complaint I have is that perhaps the people at the Idler are too idle to proofread their publications before they go to print - there was what looked like a typo on almost every other page. A simple computer spellchecker would have picked a lot of these up and I'm a little baffled how a book could have gone to print in that state in the first place. They were so frequent that I began to wonder if there were some clever, artistic reason behind these errors. Perhaps not a book for the anal then, but if you can overlook this blatant disregard for proofreading, then do give it a go!

*John Lloyd is giant, at least.

Buy The Idler 41: The QI Issue

Missing the Plot?

I find it difficult to read pulp fiction now. I don't know if this is because I studied literature at university. In a way, I think this is a shame, because ideally I'd like to be able to read a bit of everything. But my tolerance for certain types of writing has decreased as I've got older (when I was in my teens I really would read anything).

I recently tried to read a Doctor Who novelisation (I've forgotten which one and I've sinced given it away - it was one of the old ones though - a first Doctor story), but 50 pages in, I gave up. I love Doctor Who and I liked the book's shiny cover. But I couldn't stick with it because I didn't like the way it was written. To me it seemed clumsy and dull (how do you make Doctor Who dull?!).

My boyfriend reads a lot of Science Fiction and Fantasy, and I wish I could understand this fascination of his, but, again, this is something I find difficult. Aside from a smattering of Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams, I find I have little or no inclination to read any of this genre. Do I lack the imagination to be able to suspend my disbelief enough to fully indulge in this kind of writing? Or is it just that other kinds of writing spark my imagination more?

I tend to have a preference for stories which represent 'real life' as I see it. I like to identify with characters and to understand their thoughts, feelings and desires, which is a form of escapism, I suppose. And if a story contains some kind of revelation to me about human existence, then I'm usually hooked.

But what am I missing out on in all these books I avoid? I think I need to stop being so discriminating and give something different a go. There are whole worlds out there waiting for me to discover them.

A Short Study of the Troposphere in The End of Mr Y

The End of Mr Y is an ambitious novel, but its fantastical plot is utterly believable and draws the reader into the troposphere itself. The novel makes no secret of the fact that the 'troposphere' (a place made of thought which the protaganist, Ariel, is able to travel to) is a metaphor, and to me it is a metaphor of the experience of reading, of being able to understand the thoughts and feelings of other beings (even mice!) through the medium of fiction. The troposphere allows you instantly to jump between people's minds and to travel back in time using this method - this seems to represent the idea of intertextuality: everything is connected - if you start at one point you can end up at a million different other points.

The troposphere allows you to be someone else, to lose yourself in the being of another. It is the ultimate form of escapism (although, as Ariel discovers, this is not always pleasant).

The men chasing Ariel to obtain the recipe for the concoction that allows you to enter the troposphere are after her knowledge - knowledge which she has obtained from a book. This conveys an important point about the power of reading: once Ariel has read the recipe it becomes part of her, part of her thoughts, part of the troposphere.

The troposphere blurs the lines between fact and fiction and between fantasy and reality. Just as the book in the novel claims not to be factual, but contains truth (such as the recipe and the description of the troposphere and the fact that it is based on Lumas's (the author) own life experiences), so we can conclude that many instances in the novel we are reading are factual. The novel is littered with scientific facts and since the novel is written by an academic, one can assume that at least some areas of Ariel's life are autobiographical.

The idea of the troposphere also provides an interesting literary device where many first person narratives can be utilised in a logical form.

I loved this novel because there was so much to think about. But if anyone could explain the ending to me, I would be most appreciative.

Buy The End of Mr Y by Scarlett Thomas