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In praise of short books.

(Feb 2006 : this page is now part of an archived web site. I have been unable, or too lazy, to update this web site for 18 months)

There was once a time when I ploughed through Dostoyevsky’s entire opus within a few months, whilst also reading stacks of other, let’s say, less ‘difficult’ books. But even back then, in those youthful days when ones whole life lay in front of one, I often found the big books troublesome. I bought a lovely hard backed edition of Ulysses from a bookshop in Glastonbury, and I read just the two pages before resigning the tome to a permanent place on a book shelf. That book is now lost, victim of a number of moves around England. I never quite found within me the necessary fortitude required to read Moby Dick, much as I was intrigued to experience it’s mix of biblical allusion and whaling folklore.

Now I read less and have far less patience. In the last twelve months I’ve started any number of contemporary novels and then ditched them as they bored me. So I took the conscious decision to read only good, short books. (The only exception to this rule is whilst on holiday, when that long, drowsy period between the early morning walk & swim, and the evening’s first glass of red, is best spent in a deckchair with large book. I find a late afternoon game of beach cricket to be a fitting riposte to such an intense period of intellectual endeavour, which has the added benefit of whetting the appetite perfectly evenings food and drink.)

What defines a ‘short book’? I feel that the perfect short book is no longer than 120 pages. ‘The Great Gatsby’ is, therefore, a little on the long side, but in other ways is classic short book material: so much happens (explicitly or implicitly), within just a few pages, and every sentence keeps your attention.

The wonderful thing about reading, say, ‘Heart of Darkness’, is that you can read just 10 pages that have more impact than several hours worth of Lord of the Rings.

Here is a list of some of the best short books, in no particular order, although you could make a case for ‘Heart of Darkness’ being the indisputable king (allowing for the fact that the last few pages are, to me, a slight disappointment after the tension that is built up in the previous 100).

Of contemporary writers, I believe Magnus Mills to be a master (and anyone who can make a story out of people living in sheds must be a genius*), and last summer found a book by someone called Ben Rice, two short novellas which were wonderful.

Those short books that are supposed to be great but I didn’t enjoy include ‘Death in Venice’ (in which each page is as much fun as a wet sunday in Skelmersdale) and ‘Breakfast at Tiffanies’.

Design and content rog peabody 2004.