I very rarely laugh out loud at something I've read. Also, I don't read book reviews that often. So I was pretty surprised that this compilation of book reviews is the first book to make me laugh out loud in a couple of years, at least. It's even weirder because I didn't like the one book I've read by Hornby. So I don't know why I was intrigued by this book (just the good title maybe?), but I'm really glad I picked it up. I've already ordered the other 2 compilations of his reviews that are out there. Not only am I going to read a number of the books he talks about, but given that he managed to make book reviews interesting in their own right, I'm also going to give his fiction another shot.

Hornby doesn’t always explain the reasons he buys and then reads his books - I’m assuming it has a degree of artifice for the Believer column, and thinking ahead to these book digests. He protests otherwise in the preface, moving from a situation of unconscious themes and patterns, to, “… ever since my choice of books has been haphazard, whimsical, and entirely shapeless.” Since reading the 1st book in this series ‘The Polysyllabic Spree’ I have kept my own records of books acquired (alongside ‘Read’), and I like to think I’m a bit more disciplined and logical than Hornby, but also love the serendipity of links between books and threads I sometimes pull on and follow in my reading journey.

Interesting that in April 2006 he buys Moondust and 1599: A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare, both of which I have on my shelf ‘to be read’ probably for 18 years as well … see if he gets around to them?! 

Hornby makes pains not to criticise books (on pain of censure by the ‘Spree’), but really as some sort of self-censoring … but he makes an exception with ‘Dirt’, albeit based on the content rather than the literary merit. His comments include, this is a ‘disturbingly repellent’ 1970’s rock-and-roll memoir! (Motley Crue) The other end of the spectrum is Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson, ‘… an extraordinary, yearning mystical work’. So 'Housekeeping vs. the Dirt' - get it?! Once you get into the rhythm of these small unique books they finish; I am really enjoying the mixture of memoir (Hornby’s reading life), humour, book reviews and extracts, but am conscious that this particular series is coming to an end (this is the 2nd of 3). I can see why they are a niche offering.

Reading list; I didn’t do this formally after The Polysyllabic Spree, but Hornby’s recommendations could produce their own reading list. In this case, it would include Marilynne Robinson (ref. ‘Housekeeping’ above and also ‘Gilead’ included in this digest), The March by E.L.Doctorow, Death and the Penguin by Andrey Kurkov, Jess Walter ... and probably more. This is problematic!

2025 Update: I have now read 'Moondust' and continue to work through some of my older books, as well as trying to obey the serendipitous reading Gods! (ps. vis-a-vis I've just picked up a secondhand copy of Gilead by Marilynne Robinson book, on Hornby's recommendation)

There is a terrific line in Whit Stillman's 1990 independent film, "Metropolitan," in which one of the characters confesses “I don't read novels. I prefer good literary criticism. That way you get both the novelists' ideas as well as the critics' thinking." In much the same way, I vastly enjoyed novelist, screenwriter and critic Nick Hornby's slight, sly collection of essays, "Housekeeping vs the Dirt." The essays collected here are from 2005-2006, and it's fun to revisit nearly twenty year old novels and hear what a talented reader (and writer!) had to think about them at the time.

The origin of these essays is Hornby's column for The Believer, a McSweeney's publication. On its website, The Believer is described as "a thirteen-time National Magazine Award finalist ... a quarterly literature, arts, and culture magazine published by McSweeney’s. In each issue, readers will find journalism, essays, intimate interviews, an expansive comics section, poetry, and on occasion, delightful and unexpected bonus items. Founded in 2003 by Heidi Julavits, Ed Park, and Vendela Vida, The Believer aims to give books and artists the benefit of the doubt (the working title of the magazine was The Optimist). Like all good magazines, it has died a few times, but it always comes back to life, thanks to its faithful and devoted readership."

Nice.

Hornby's criticism - "Stuff I've been Reading" - is generous, humorous, and charming, not unlike his sometimes very popular novels. He writes about what he reads, and he reads a wide range of books including classics, semi-obscure mid-20th century novels, memoirs, histories, mysteries and thrillers. His criticism is not particularly technical; rather he uses chatty discussions and summaries of whatever he's read that month to ruminate, bloviate, castigate, and demonstrate what he loves, hates, questions and envies about reading and life itself. I was going to include here several funny, illuminating examples of his insights and asides, but realized that it is probably better for (future) readers to discover happily Housekeeping vs the Dirt's many surprises themselves.

There are numerous other volumes available of Nick Hornby's criticism. Over the years, I will likely read them all. The best title? It's arguable, but perhaps it is "Dickens and Prince: A Particular Kind of Genius" about, yes, the Dickens from whom we get the word "Dickensian", and Prince, from whom we get "Purple Rain" etc.

I love these essays by Nick Hornby -- he talks about what books he's bought and what he's read over the past month, plus other observations and insights. They're interesting and funny, and have given me a bunch of new book ideas to add to my list!

This review has been revised and can now be found at Expendable Mudge Muses Aloud.

And there was much rejoicing.

Kinda want to read The Dirt AND Housekeeping because of this...

Glancing at other reviews of this on Goodreads, I may be the only reader who didn’t care for this book.

This is Nick Hornby’s collection of his column for The Believer magazine in which he compares the list of books he’s bought with the list of books he’s actually read. That exercise is fun, and I’ve compared those two lists of my own for entertainment (who would’ve thought I’d leave Patti Smith’s memoir on my shelf for so long before reading it? And who would’ve guessed that I would have devoured a biography of Henry Kissinger immediately upon someone handing it to me?).

Hornby thinks his “bought” list tends to be higher brow, and his “read” list tends to be lower brow. He’s a reading enthusiast, and the contrast between the list serves to encourage people to not get hung up on being too “literary” and embracing the idea of reading books, no matter the perceived altitude of their brow. It’s great to encourage people to read books, and at first glance, who doesn’t like a populist stance against artistic snobs? But after reading through his columns I felt a little impatient and thirsty for some more substance.

He writes, “I am not particularly interested in language. Or rather, I am interested in what language can do for me, and I spend many hours each day trying to ensure that my prose is as simple as it can possibly be. But I do not wish to produce prose that draws attention to itself, rather than the world it describes, and I certainly don’t have the patience to read it.” More than anything, his guide for reading is to avoid the boring: “To put it crudely, I get bored, and when I get bored I tend to get tetchy. It has proved surprisingly easy to eliminate boredom from my reading life. And boredom, let’s face it, is a problem that many of us have come to associate with books” (14).

I’m all for not reading boring books (Like Hornby, I, too, will avoid many of the old classics for this reason), but he’s not just opposing boring, “important” books. He also takes a posture against books that have more ambition. He writes that he categorically is against reading contemporary literary fiction.

I’m having a hard time putting my finger on what irritates me about this. Perhaps the problem here is that there is a distinction between “challenging” books that make you work hard, and perhaps move more slowly, and just plain boring books.

For me, one promise of more “literary” books is that they may more deeply inspire and educate. I’m reminded of Ta-Nehisi Coates’ interview in the Guardian:

[James] Baldwin understood that if you are going to say something important about the world it is best if you try to say it beautifully. I don’t mean like picking flowers or writing on fancy stationery. I mean how you say it actually makes it a more meaningful piece of writing. I am going to push that further. It makes it a truer piece of writing. What you are saying is: ‘Can I make somebody feel this in a deeper way?’”

Coates, reflecting on Baldwin and other beautiful writers, continues: “…I would think about that shit for days. Those phrases stayed with me in my head…”
(http://www.theguardian.com/books/2015...)

Do we not, as plain-old, unpretentious readers, want to combat boredom with the sticky phrases Coates describes, the same way a catchy pop hook repeats in our head? It seems that by throwing out critically acclaimed prose, Hornby risks narrowing and diminishing our potential enjoyment of literature.

Hornby is clear that he believes that there is value in pleasure reading. I’d add that there’s great value in deep reading, too. And further, that one needn’t be an art snob to read deeply. Ultimately, with my scarce time, I don’t want to just be inspired—I want to be inspired deeply.

Hornby is witty, hilarious, brilliant. He has my sense of humour and shares my views towards books and book industry. What more to want?

I love Nick Hornby for his bold assertion that people should be reading what will give them pleasure, not what they think they should read, in order to inflate their intelligence. Life is short, and so few people read for pleasure any more. So what's the point of reading something that feels like a chore? Give it up! This book is a collection of articles published in the Believer Magazine; he lists what books he has purchased and discusses books he has read. I really enjoy his unique voice and humor!

A wry book about reading books – most of which I did not know and most of which were novels. “Five Days in London” by John Lukacs, which is not a novel, is reviewed.
There are some good laugh-loud jokes, but some just fall flat.

Yet the author tries and is obviously addicted to books and the love of reading. The best part (and funny) was about the Amazon review in September 2005. I also appreciated that the author is not a ‘reading snob’ type!

A collection of columns from The Believer. Each essay has two book lists, what he’s bought during the month and what he’s read. Most months there is only a small overlap, which I can identify with as someone who buys more books than she can read.

He writes with intelligence and humor and I now have a new TBR list. Very satisfying.

I picked this up for two key reasons: a) I just bought the latest collection, More Baths and Less Talking, and wanted to get to it but hadn't read any of the others except the first, and my sense of chronology demanded senselessly that I go through them in order; and b) I wanted to get to 100 books read this year and this book would very quickly add another in the 'done' column. For some reason I didn’t really dig this one as much as his first, although there were plenty of good columns here. More books that I’ve actually read than usual. And the preface is great.