AND FINALLY

Nothing under the sun is new

MY BOOK addiction began in the Fifties and Sixties, when we weren’t distracted by TV, social media and rolling news. The public libraries flourished — and helped shape the minds of ordinary kids like me.

I read Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, Sir Walter Scott, Jack London, Dickens, as well as children’s classics like The Secret Garden (my favourite) and The Wind In The Willows — and my comics, of course.

Nobody said one book was highbrow and another one easy — you just read what you fancied. Great days!

Anyway, I decided to devote January and February to 19thcentury novels — reminding myself that neither people nor politics change very much.

I’ve read empowering statements about women (Jane Eyre and The Tenant Of Wildfell Hall); re-met one of the nastiest sociopaths in literature (Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights); and faced cross-cultural conflicts in Brussels (Villette) and desperate workers trying to protect their livelihoods (Shirley — both those by Charlotte Bronte).

Shirley is set against a background of wars and foreign trade problems, which struck a powerful chord. Agnes Grey (Anne Bronte) exposes cruelty to animals and to governesses — making me reflect gloomily that in this age of puppy farms, dog and cock fights and the sexual exploitation of women things haven’t moved on much.

In The Warden ( Anthony Trollope) we have a perfect example of a do-gooding, Leftist prig who thinks he knows best.

As for Dickens! The Old Curiosity Shop exposes gambling addiction; Oliver Twist paints a picture of corruption; and A Tale Of Two Cities is a grave reminder that the rich must show humanity or else the devils of revolution will be unleashed.

All relevant to our world. It’s all happened before, you know: turmoil, indecision, ambition, the rise and fall of individuals, political parties and international treaties. Oh, and love, faith and self-sacrifice, thank goodness. Nothing is new under the sun.