I have read a lot of books over the summer, mostly while lying in a shady corner of the garden in France, but also while sheltering from the rain in Derbyshire. Here they all are:
This has been on my shelf for a long time, looking fat and slightly unwelcoming. I read it during the first couple of weeks of the holiday, before we went away anywhere; Bernard was probably playing Minecraft at the time. It was an alarming book to read, and made me feel deeply disillusioned with the state of evidence for anything, ever. Simce my induction to books about whitewash, with Naomi Klein’s No Logo, and going on to read Ben Goldacre’s Bad Science and Simon Singh’s Trick or Treatment, tales of consumerist corporate corruption should no longer surprise me, but this was the most chilling and large scale so far. The book concludes that drug companies are evil, the media are stupid, and change is so little-by-little that it’s barely noticeable.
I picked this up because it was either recommended by someone (Lisa?) or reviewed somewhere, and zipped through it. It’s a dark tale in the style of light summer reading, but so not light: madness, nudity and poetry under french provincial skies.
I picked this up from the bookshelf in our cottage in Derbyshire, replacing it with Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Stories (Wordsworth Special Editions). Everything else on the shelf was trash so I thought I’d try Ronson, not having read anything of his before. I was most entertained by his style, and disturbed by his content, and found it to be a good follow-up to Bad Pharma and a novel about nuttiness. The Psychopath Test asks whether it is okay, either on a clinical level or in the media, to define or describe people by their maddest characteristics. I’ll definitely be reading some more of his work.