Paperback, 324 pages
English language
Published Dec. 15, 1997 by Avon Books.
Before New York Times bestselling author Bill Bryson wrote The Road to Little Dribbling, he took this delightfully irreverent jaunt around the unparalleled floating nation of Great Britain, which has produced zebra crossings, Shakespeare, Twiggie Winkie’s Farm, and places with names like Farleigh Wallop and Titsey.
A very funny look at Great Britain by an American. For some strange reason, Brits generally like this book, though of course Bryson's US-centric look at things tends to annoy.
Nevertheless, there are some laugh-out-loud moments, many smiles and chuckles, and an overall sympathetic feeling.
Endearing, but I wasn’t swept from my feet or moved to new points of view.
For years I've been living under a totally mistaken impression of [a:Bill Bryson|7|Bill Bryson|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1578597522p2/7.jpg]. Seeing his books in bookshops I had the idea that he was a neo-Victorian polymath, with doctorates in fields like astrorphysics, geology, botany, zoology and history. Anyone who could could write [b:A short history of nearly everything|21|A Short History of Nearly Everything|Bill Bryson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1433086293l/21.SY75.jpg|2305997] must know everything that's worth knowing about anything, right?
So I grabbed this book from the library because nothing else had taken my fancy, and thought I could always bring it back if I found it too erudite. And it turns out that it's a rather idiosyncratic and funny travel book about his own wanderings around Great Britain, with observations on the weird customs of the natives (Bryson is American, and a journalist).
So his book was a much lighter read than I had been expecting, and some of his experiences …
For years I've been living under a totally mistaken impression of [a:Bill Bryson|7|Bill Bryson|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1578597522p2/7.jpg]. Seeing his books in bookshops I had the idea that he was a neo-Victorian polymath, with doctorates in fields like astrorphysics, geology, botany, zoology and history. Anyone who could could write [b:A short history of nearly everything|21|A Short History of Nearly Everything|Bill Bryson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1433086293l/21.SY75.jpg|2305997] must know everything that's worth knowing about anything, right?
So I grabbed this book from the library because nothing else had taken my fancy, and thought I could always bring it back if I found it too erudite. And it turns out that it's a rather idiosyncratic and funny travel book about his own wanderings around Great Britain, with observations on the weird customs of the natives (Bryson is American, and a journalist).
So his book was a much lighter read than I had been expecting, and some of his experiences rang bells for me too -- such as working on a small-town newspaper with hot-metal press, and writing about the exciting doings of the local Women's Institute.
The things I liked about this book were the familiar things, where he described places I had visited or lived in, like Durham, where I was a student for a couple of years, and Blaenau Festiniog, where he spent a wet Sunday waiting for a train, and we spent a wet Saturday afternoon driving up and down the main (and apparently only) street looking for an Orthodox Church that we were sure was there but couldn't find, and couldn't ask the priest because he was in Turkey that weekend.
So the book is full of all the personal touches of things that delighted and disgusted and bored Bill Bryson, which could be amusing or confusing. It was definitely the work of a journalist and not a polymath. I could imagine it being bashed out on flimsy copy paper on a worn-out old manual typewriter with uneven keys in a busy newsroom with a couple of dozen other typewriters clacking away in the background with the guy at the neighbouring desk interviewing a fashion model and the bloke on the other side swearing as he rummages through his wastepaper basket looking for page 4 of his six-page story. How else could Bill Bryson write about travelling to Glasgow on Saturday, which was followed by a Friday night, and the next day was Sunday?
Bill Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods," remains one of my favorite travel books, and so I was surprised that this reads like a snarky, blow-by-blow Yelp review of England. Cities I've only heard about in British television shows, he's visited and has a cynical anecdote about some aspect of its architecture, people, or history.
Not to say his stories aren't interesting or untrue, but I found myself reluctant to pick up this book, because reading it is like visiting that crotchety loved one to whose rants your most enthusiastic reply is "Interesting," "Oh Really?" or "Hmmm."
Slow but I would keep reading, and be rewarded with a laugh out loud joke pointing out the vast differences in cultures. A fun read sparked by a book club, and Bryson is indeed an excellent writer.
I think it's a little bit dated now but a nice nostalgic read in places and I do like Bryson's writing in general.
Full review on blog: curiositykilledthebookworm.blogspot.com/2011/07/notes-from-small-island.html
Quite amusing.
