or How I spent the best part of the week in bed.

Covid really takes it out of you. What can you do except read. So read I did. I in fact took this book with me on holiday and brought it back unopened. Just as well as I would have been really stuck this week.

I read a lot of David Lodge at University, his literary criticism was very approachable and helpful and his early novels were hilarious. So I thought I was on to a winner.

And I was. In a way. Fascinating. Totally surprising story. I wasn’t expecting a semi fictionalised biography of H G Wells. I would never have picked it up if I’d bothered to read the blurb. But I’m glad I did. The parts in question are of course his personal bits. Which according to Lodge he made impressive use of during his not particularly long life. But lovers, mistresses, wives, passades, sometimes concurrently, sometimes with indecent gaps, must take their toll. And all because he needed rest and relaxation after bouts of creativity!
At first the book tends to read like a more interesting form of literary criticism – which I wasn’t looking for, but actually learnt a lot- but then it became the sort of romp I was looking for on my Covid bed. I read it in three days and laughed out loud, quite painfully at times. An unexpected treat generally. But it did not raise my opinion of the hero. Would I have fallen for his charms? One is inclined to be persuaded that anyone would. Hmm. I’m not so sure!

Have you read any of his books?

I am a lot better now, thank you though still not going out. Lots to catch up on.