So I finished university, much to the delight of my family. I, however, feel complete desolation. Going from having the past three years of your life entirely planned out, to being able to do whatever you want, whenever you want, is not quite as liberating as you might think. I'm taking it steady though, don't you worry. Which leads me to my reading material. I have read not one, not two, but three books this week. I don't think I ever read that many books in a week when I was at university?!
Embarrassingly, and we won't dwell on this, I finished Jilly Cooper's Jump at the beginning of the week. It was vacuous, ridiculous and I was wholly embarrassed by it's calibre. Not the sort of book you whip out on the tube. (I will direct you to the title of this blog, which is a little nod in Jilly's direction, but also a nod to my being back in the proverbial blogging saddle.)
Secondly, came Ben Fogle and James Cracknell's The Crossing. Fogle and Cracknell take us through every minute and gory detail of their crossing of the Atlantic ocean in a two-man rowing boat. It's so interesting to see how quickly they are forced to bond aboard what is essentially a bathtub; they didn't know each other before they embarked on their adventure. Cracknell's Olympic rowing prowess paired with what I at first believed to be Fogle's hunger for media attention, could only mean catastrophic disaster.
HOWEVER. I was proved completely wrong, sorry Ben Fogle, I take it all back. Ben Fogle is not a brilliant rower though. To begin with. I was reluctant to even give Mr Fogle a chance, after his stint on Taransay island and his japes at Longleat I thought he was all front and no substance. The BBC television series On Thin Ice altered my perceptions completely; it would seem that my initial dislike of Benjamin stems from a jealousy of all his adventures. And I AM JEALOUS. I then read the account of their pole to pole race, aptly named, Race to the Pole. I would massively recommend both books, they are bone crushingly honest.
Up next is another piece of literature that I am in no way saying is intellectually stimulating. Massively enjoyable though. I've always loved Sophie Kinsella books and her latest offering is a series of books she wrote before her other, more popular stories, as Madeleine Wickham. I polished off The Gatecrasher in less than 24 hours, a new record I'm sure.
The premise of the story is somewhat ridiculous actually. The protagonist, Fleur Daxeny attends funerals and memorial services of strangers with a mind to preying on their grieving and hideously rich husbands, sons and brothers. Hideous, I know, but it really was good.
Only one more, promise. Another one I read a while ago now, that really deserves a mention, is One Day by David Nicholls.
It is absolutely fantastic. A man and women meet on the night of their graduation; the story follows their lives after university at ten year intervals. I won't say much more because it may give it all away, but this is really worth a read. Reading it on the eve of my finishing university made it all the more poignant.
Ok no more books.
That said, can anyone recommend a few good books? I feel rather bereft after finishing One Day, nothing since as quite lived up to it.
And this, is why I shouldn't leave so long between blog posts. I have so much more to say but I'll save it for another day.
I commend you on making it to the end. :-)
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