...Bill Bryson's latest.
Apologies for the late review of this.
A delightful and highly charged autobiography of his childhood and emerging adolescence in Des Moines, Iowa.
In calling up his childhood, Bryson somehow manages to call up many similar events/scenarios in the reader's childhood.
Long summer holidays, adventures with chemistry sets, early encounters with the opposite sex, grandiloquent movie theatres, unfenced lawns, black and white TV (and heroes equally monochrome in character), mythical and venomous beasts and funguses.
The sense of exploration is stunning - the sense of humour as powerful as ever.
BB harks back to the Age of Innocence (the 50s) with detail, wit and the power to make the reader laugh out loud (thereby waking up any nearby individuals who have chosen to go to sleep at a more sensible hour).
As with all other BB books I have read (and they are now beginning to create a bit of a trail) I have been sorely tempted to breach copyright in the interests of entertaining the visitors to this blog.
But that might let you off "doing the work" and reading the whole thing for yourself.
Doing the work?
If reading a BB book ever got to seem like work, I would have to take myself off to a Workaholics Anonymous group therapy course...thankfully, I don't see that happening in the near future.
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