The Secret Diary of Donald J Trump, aged 7i ¾
Thank God It’s Friday
BC on TV
Firetruckery of the Day
The Bookworm Turns
Every year it happens: I go to begin reading a book and then remember, “Oh, I’m going to Port of Spain for the NGC Bocas Lit Fest – I’m bound to get several books there that I’ll want to start at once”. So I don’t start the book I picked up – this year, it was Raymond Chandler’s magnum opus, The Big Sleep. Instead of losing myself in the book that created – or at least perfected – the literary crime novel, I read the first few short stories from his pulp fiction days, in the same Library of America edition with his first three novels. All well and good. No new book begun. Until I get to Port of Spain and stumble upon, on the shelf there, the book I’ve been scouring my Bajan bookshelves for recently: Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaarder (not to be confused with William Styron’s great New York & Holocaust novel, Sophie’s Choice). Sophie’s World is a short (500-odd pages) summation, in easily understood layman’s prose, of philosophy. The major ideas of everyone from Plato to Marx is explained as accurately as I can discern, from my recollection of my own struggles with Kierkegaard, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche and Sartre, who leave my head spinning, now, worse than Merrydown cider did when I was 14. I thought it might be a useful book for a young person going out into the world to have, and I have one such to whom I wished to present the book. The mistake was to have a quick look, to see if it was as good as I remembered it from 20 years ago. It is. So now I have only another 400-odd pages to go before I can turn to Judy Raymond’s The Colour of Shadows, Kevin Jared Hosein’s The Repenters, Anna Levi’s Madinah Girl and Marlon James’ first book, John Crow’s Devil. It have firetruckeries in literature, too.