The non-fiction books that I’ve read over the past 12 months. Unfortunately Taleb was a real disappointment: the book equivalent of a late-night infomercial that makes much out of little; Twyla Tharp’s was on the other end of the scale, as was the Heaney book.
12 Books That Changed the World by Melvyn Bragg. Not the usual suspects, the ones that had a demonstrable effect on daily life.
A Short History of English Literature by Gilbert Phelps. Dry but useful account, mercifully devoid of psuedocritical psauce.
Enemies of Promise by Cyril Connolly while rocking the pram in the hall. Direct, insightful, and strangely encouraging.
Ex Libris by Anne Fadiman. Great fun for bibliophiles; for those left cold by reading, not so much.
Literary Lives by Edmund Sorel, illustrator. The dope on Jung, Sartre, Brecht, and other monsters, drawn with relish and wit.
On the Sublime by Longinus. “Sublimity is the echo of a great soul”. Nearly 2000 years old and still on the money.
Stepping Stones [Heaney Interviews by Dennis O'Driscoll]. Ulster Poet proves efficacy of unSilence, unExile, & unCunning for Irish literary triumph.
The Black Swan by Nassim Nicholas Taleb. Probability Prof take smart thesis and goes off the deep end. Tiresome ego-trip.
The Irish Times newspaper from the day of my birth: snowstorms, death of revolutionary WT Cosgrave, and Vatican Council on TV
The Creative Habit. by Twyla Tharp. Practicalities for the artistically inclined. Engrossing, insightful, useful. Excuse me now while I defenstrate the television.
Unreliable Memoirs by Clive James. From an Australian boyhood through London bedsits to glittering success and hyper-productive maturity. The fourth volume, (North Face of Soho) is the most enjoyable of the set: as wisdom of age settles over the reminiscences.