This, that

1. I read Angus Calder's Gods, Mongrels and Demons, which is quite good. It's a selection of little biographies of odd people. He has a strange style, sometimes writing as if annoyed at being forced to write about a topic; maybe there's some back story I don't know. His entry on the Devil starts out as a wearisome recap -- it's not the devil it's a snake in the garden of Eden, blah blah blah -- and then suddenly veers wildly into a vehement condemnation of the family unit as the devil's work, and an entreaty for society to abandon it as a concept. Now obviously there are other ways to live than in a nuclear family -- we have all learnt this from Bridget Jones and Sex and the City -- and families are fetishised somewhat by politicians. Nonetheless it seems interestingly extreme to advocate their wholesale abandonment in an essay which is supposed to be about the anthropomorphisation of evil. It may be true that most child abuse takes place in families, but I'm pretty sure most child nurturing and love takes place there too. Anyhoo, it's nice to read something unexpected from time to time. I also read When We Were Romans by Matthew Kneale. It's very good and it made me cry. Also The World According to Bertie. I think I prefer Alexander McCall Smith's Scotland novels now -- I think the Botswana ones have run out of oomph a little. I read Lady Audley's Secret, one of the original sensation novels -- when lovely woman stoops to folly, and all that.

2. I have had an e-mail from someone at Boydell and Brewer, to whom I have just sent back the proofs of my calendars book. Now this book is being published by a Learned Society, the publications editor of which is an Eminent Professor who used to teach me. Apparently the said E.P. has decided that the title of the book has to be changed. I'm feeling a little miffed about this, in a vain way -- it seems to me that ideally one might not change the title of someone else's book without at least pretending to consult them first. He has also said that "calendar" has to be spelt "kalendar" throughout. I find that a little annoying because I have a prejudice against the spelling. Obviously in the bigger scheme of things it's not that important. But he could have mentioned it in one of the two or more first drafts he was given before it went to the publisher, and not at the proofs stage. I actually first published this book as part of the ASNC Guides, Texts, and Studies series a few years back, at a time when it made me feel like my PhD years had at least been good for something. It has a number of A3 foldout tables in it which I had to fold myself every time someone ordered one. Consequently it's a bit old hat to me now, and I don't have firm opinions about how it ought to be done (except that the folding ought to be done by someone else) -- it's solely my amour propre that's wounded here. And clearly it's the wrong sort of amour propre, and I must cultivate a more sensible type of self-esteem.

3. I did not call the Eminent Professor by his name in the above, but it should be noted that this is no more really anonymous than our Part II exam papers were, given that anyone with half a brain who can be bothered could work out who it was in five minutes, and anyone who is likely to know him knows who it is without effort. Am I being drawn into youth culture's disregard for privacy? Maybe. I do sort of count on not many people reading this.

4. I went into Exeter today to see my brother and sister-in-law. We went to see Indiana Jones, which was silly but reasonably entertaining, and then I went shopping. I didn't go into Princesshay, where the bomb went off the other day, because it's a very new shopping centre like Cambridge's Grand Arcade, and probably won't have any good shops in it for about five years. It's an interesting place to choose to attack, because it's been Exeter's big civic project for some time now. It is a good deal classier than the Grand Arcade and had a good architect. Anyway, the other day on a very successful research trip to Devizes (the successful bit was ascertaining that I have no need to do research in Devizes) I left my mother alone in the car with my nice little hardback of He Knew He Was Right, and she decided to read the ending, only to discover that much of it was missing. So given that I have already started it, it was pretty urgent for me to find a copy of the book which does include pp. 909-924. The best bookshop I know, at least tied with independents like the LRB bookshop in London and QI in Oxford, is the Waterstone's in Exeter by the cathedral (there's another near where Debenhams once was). It has a literature in translation table near the front, and always has the most interesting books out; that's where I found The Manuscript Found At Saragossa, which is brilliant. They actually had the very Trollope I needed, as well as tons of interesting-sounding far eastern literature. I also bought a book called The Hearing Trumpet, by Leonora Carrington. On the back it has a quote attributed to Luis Buňuel: "Reading The Hearing Trumpet liberates us from the miserable reality of our days". So I'll keep you informed if it does that.

5. I tell you what liberates me from the miserable reality of my days: Pet Shops Boys. Here's a very old mix of West End Girls with I Wear My Sunglasses at Night, I think from the Bobby O days: