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A review by woolfardis
Keeping On Keeping On by Alan Bennett
4.0
I read all of Alan Bennett's diaries in a row, which, given they were written over about 40 years it's unlikely this was how he intended them to be read, since this would require a foresight hitherto unknown since Adam said unto Eve, "you and me babe, how about it?"
As is such, I probably both ruined my enjoyment of them but also catapulted that enjoyment, wherein I garnered far more insight than one would hope in such a man's life.
This particular entry in to the long-standing tradition of English diarists is the longest of AB's, with over half of the content given over to the diary entries themselves. This was a delight as to read more is what one wants from any continued series, but I found myself sometimes wishing there were less.
The main problem would be the sheer amount of politics. Not withstanding my agreement or disagreement, it was mainly that he could feel so much more about modern goings on than what had occurred in the 80s, which was either the same or worse as what goes on today.
The explanation being that possibly any more brusque or indeed harsher political views were not included in the 80s and 90s diary anthologies because he was a more prominent figure and boldly in the public eye.
But to think that he could not be even remotely moved by Margaret Thatcher's systematic dismantling of the entire Northern culture overnight seems unlikely, which I am choosing to believe to be the case.
In any regard, seeing how AB has evolved over time proves that my way of reading his books one after the other was a good decision. He doesn't seem to have changed an awful lot in the way he writes about everyday life (often pithy, sometimes sarcastic, perhaps sardonic), but his views and ways of looking at things has evolved as he has aged. He is still shy, but less so. He can still be angry, and probably more so. He still delights in small things,
His writing-diaries aside-is ever enchanting. I find AB to be an excellent communicator of knowledge and expert in explaining things without doing the actual explaining, or even possibly being aware that he is imparting his knowledge at all. That is the mark of a truly great writer, one who not only shows and doesn't tell, but one whose enthusiasm for their chosen subject is such that it bubbles over without it being acknowledged.
As is such, I probably both ruined my enjoyment of them but also catapulted that enjoyment, wherein I garnered far more insight than one would hope in such a man's life.
This particular entry in to the long-standing tradition of English diarists is the longest of AB's, with over half of the content given over to the diary entries themselves. This was a delight as to read more is what one wants from any continued series, but I found myself sometimes wishing there were less.
The main problem would be the sheer amount of politics. Not withstanding my agreement or disagreement, it was mainly that he could feel so much more about modern goings on than what had occurred in the 80s, which was either the same or worse as what goes on today.
The explanation being that possibly any more brusque or indeed harsher political views were not included in the 80s and 90s diary anthologies because he was a more prominent figure and boldly in the public eye.
But to think that he could not be even remotely moved by Margaret Thatcher's systematic dismantling of the entire Northern culture overnight seems unlikely, which I am choosing to believe to be the case.
In any regard, seeing how AB has evolved over time proves that my way of reading his books one after the other was a good decision. He doesn't seem to have changed an awful lot in the way he writes about everyday life (often pithy, sometimes sarcastic, perhaps sardonic), but his views and ways of looking at things has evolved as he has aged. He is still shy, but less so. He can still be angry, and probably more so. He still delights in small things,
His writing-diaries aside-is ever enchanting. I find AB to be an excellent communicator of knowledge and expert in explaining things without doing the actual explaining, or even possibly being aware that he is imparting his knowledge at all. That is the mark of a truly great writer, one who not only shows and doesn't tell, but one whose enthusiasm for their chosen subject is such that it bubbles over without it being acknowledged.