On my 'To Read' pile...

Will Self's latest work, Liver, has me so intrigued that I can't wait to read it and may even push it to the front of the To Read queue and get to it straight after the D.H. Lawrence biog.

And, having stayed up to watch Newsnight Review (yes, I know it's Friday night) only to hear a unanimous groaning at the much awaited De Niro/Pacino film Righteous Kill, I also became intrigued by the review of Zoe Heller's latest novel, The Believers, which I shall reserve at the library the minute it becomes available.

There's also the latest offering from Cambridge classicist Mary Beard, Pompeii - The Life of a Roman Town which looks really good. Not so long ago, in an earlier post on this blog, I berated The Telegraph for featuring a podcast from some literary festival where not one person had an accent - and Mary Beard was one of the examples I had cited. Quick as a flash she came back and said she had the accent of her county - Shropshire. Having lived in Shropshire for a few years when I was a teenager I have a fine ear for the Salopian accent and fancy I could even tell the tiniest difference between that of Ludlow and Craven Arms (the latter being blink-and-you-miss-it) - and I couldn't even detect a trace of it on her radio 4 interview the other day. It's impossible to see ourselves as the countless others see us - equally so the hearing.

So many books. So little time.

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