This is a fantastic selection of Radiohead songs which have been interpreted for classical ensemble. The promotion for the concert said it was Radiohead’s greatest hits, but there are only a few which are very well-known. There are some interesting choices and I wonder how they decided which songs to include. I imagine that most songs would work well. The most unusual, and I thought the best on the album, is ‘Climbing Up the Walls’. The original has a lot of distortion, reverb and wailing on it; London Concertante make it sound melancholy and melodic, rather than despairing and disturbing. An oboe (I think) is used for Thom Yorke’s voice and a double bass (again, I think – I’m not always certain when identifying instruments) provides the brooding bass line. Extra layers are provided by strings and the whole effect is amazing. Another unusual one is ‘Everything In Its Right Place’, which is faster and more lively than the original, the strings making it sound joyous. Other favourites include ‘Daydreaming’ and ‘Decks Dark’. There weren’t any that I didn’t like, although ‘No Surprises’ (the end track) was no, ahem, surprise. This album is ideal for fans of Radiohead and I find it’s also good background music for when lyrics would distract me. I’ve found yet another favourite album this year!

The story follows 16-year-old Martha, who has moved to a new area because her dad re-married. Her dad and step-mother promptly go away, leaving Martha and her step-brother Conor, who she barely knows, in the sinister old house on their own while they navigate the new high school and discover that a girl remarkably similar to Martha was murdered in their house, but the murderer may still be out there. An increasingly frightening series of events leads Martha to believe that something terrible will happen on Halloween and history will be repeated.

I would have liked an extra twist at the end, but I don’t think extra twists were a trend when this book was written. It’s certainly worth reading if you’re looking for something seasonal and short, but it could have had more detail. There is a lot packed into the book and everything seems rushed. It was first published in 1989 and there isn’t anything really dated about it, although Martha’s fascination with her step-brother is a little weird. The edition I read was published by Open Road Media, 2011, with extra biographical material about the author.

Published by Profile, 2026.

What is very uncomfortable about this change, is that audiobooks with virtual voice (that is, AI-narrated) are now included. It’s bad enough that Amazon is clogged with AI generated books, making it difficult to find decent, human-crafted reads in Kindle Unlimited (now Kindle+), but now AI audiobooks created by unprincipled authors/publishers will be normalised and promoted by their inclusion in the subscription. If I were a professional narrator, I’d be feeling very worried indeed about the way things are going. Actually, I’m very worried about AI in general, the way it is taking over every facet of life, despite all the warnings and the reality that most people just do not want it.

If you’re a Kindle Unlimited, I mean Kindle+, subscriber, then please note that my books will have left the scheme by the end of this year (they all have different end dates of the enrolment period), so if you’re intending to read them, then do so ASAP. I hope to make them available on more platforms, time permitting. Amazon has an exclusivity requirement for books in Kindle+, so when the enrolment ends, authors can sell their books elsewhere.

The narrator is Tsukiko, who is drinking in a bar when she meets her old high school teacher, whom she calls Sensei although it’s a few decades since they were student and teacher. They both live alone, and they enjoy good food and drink, so they start to meet often. Tsukiko gradually realises she wants to be more than friends with Sensei, meanwhile he treasures memories of his wife and is concerned about how his age impacts their relationship.

Not much actually happens in the book, when I try to summarise it, but the author skilfully draws the story out across the seasons and gives the characters life. There were a lot of food descriptions, particularly seafood, which I really don’t like to read about, and sometimes I didn’t get the reference to Japanese culture, but apart from that, it was an absorbing read.

First published in 2001. Translated by Allison Markin Powell and published by Portobello Books, 2014.

Published by Puffin, 2015.

I won’t explain what the book is about, as I did that in my original review. However, there are some things I either missed the first time around, or didn’t put them in the review. For a start, for a short novel it does move slowly. Halfway through and they’ve only just had their first night at the house, and nothing ghostly happened. I found it difficult to understand the dynamics between all the characters. They’ve only just met, but are acting like they’re best friends. I think there is attraction between Eleanor (the protagonist, narrated in the third person) and Theodora, and it almost seems that Theodora’s rejection is a factor in Eleanor’s fate. Eleanor repeats, over and over, ‘journeys end in lovers meeting.’ I don’t know what that’s from, but it’s some kind of personal mantra. Something I did appreciate was the architectural element; the angles of the house all built slightly wrong, how its exterior is evil, the strange tower which Eleanor can’t go in. It still wasn’t too clear to me what happened, but perhaps if the mysteries were neatly wrapped up, the book would be less memorable. I said in my review that it’s almost a parody of the haunted house genre. I’m going further than that now; it’s a comedy. When the doctor’s wife arrives with her blustering companion, ready to comfort the spirits (who of course leave them alone) it becomes very amusing.

The doctor often mentions Borley Rectory, comparing it to Hill House, hoping for a lot of ghostly activity to boost his research. If you read about Borley, the apparent true story is scarier than anything that appears to be happening at Hill House. This may be where the doctor’s wife gets her beliefs about the monks and nuns whose spirits haunt the house, and an influence on her use of the planchette for spirit communication.

I have read another Shirley Jackson book since, We Have Always Lived in the Castle, but I had quite mixed feelings about it, so I don’t know if I’ll read any more of her books.

Dickens’ characters are famously larger than life, caricatures really. They are toned down somewhat, I think, except for Pip’s sister and Orlick. Miss Havisham in particular (Gillian Anderson) has a sympathetic portrayal. A number of minor characters are missed out, but a more significant one is Biddy. This was probably to avoid any confusion of romantic interest and to make Pip feel worse about leaving Joe on his own. The eccentricities of the book are stripped out, such as the theatrical Mr Wopsle, Wemmick’s marvellous house, the chaotic family life of the Pockets (in this adaptation, Herbert is cut off from them) and the smartly-dressed boy employed to do errands.

The series opens dramatically with escaped convict Magwitch (Ray Winstone) struggling through the mud and grabbing Pip by the ankle. We have a difference here already, as Magwitch only asks Pip to bring a file, not food. Therefore, Pip bringing food is from his own kindness and a more solid reason for Magwitch to become his mystery benefactor. Pip and Joe are not part of the hunt for the convicts, either, so there can be no suspicion that Pip led the soldiers to them. By the end of the first episode, Pip is on his way to London with his ‘great expectations’ on the horizon, having made it more obvious that he believes Miss Havisham is behind the scheme so he will be enough of a gentleman to marry her adopted daughter Estella.

The second episode shows Pip falling into an expensive and lazy existence, spending time unwisely with Bentley Drummle (in the book, they are not friends), in whom he confides his understanding with Estella, thereby giving Drummle more of a reason to take Estella from him. There is a romantic scene where Pip and Estella, their chaperone having fallen asleep at a picnic, wade into the lake with bare legs, where they kiss. The book has very few meetings between them. There is also an added scene where Joe, not having heard from Pip, travels to London especially and forces his way into the club, embarrassing Pip. Joe is not quite so mild and downtrodden as in the book. The episode ends with Pip horrified at the visit from Magwitch, his benefactor revealed, who tips a sack full of money on to the floor.

In the final episode, Pip confronts Miss Havisham about Estella marrying Drummle, and we get glimpses of the misery Estella is condemned to. The scene with Miss Havisham on fire is paid more attention, but we don’t see Pip rescuing her and he is not injured so much as in the book. Pip also has a confrontation with Mr Jaggers (David Suchet) who finally loses his poise when explaining why he kept it secret that Magwitch’s daughter Estella was alive. Pip is preparing to go away with Magwitch, when Orlick attacks him at home (in the book, Pip is lured away to the marshes), but instead of needing to be rescued by Herbert, Pip beats him in a fight. It’s not shown what happened to Orlick after that. Meanwhile, we see Estella, her low-cut dress revealing a lot of bruises, thanking the horse which killed Drummle. Magwitch, after killing Compeyson out on the water and being beaten by the soldiers, dies of his injuries before he can be sentenced. The episode ends with Pip, having nothing left, returning to the forge where Joe is working alone (in the book, it’s a livelier occasion, as it happens to be Joe and Biddy’s wedding day), and is then reunited with Estella who has inherited two fortunes. This is a little more hopeful ending than the book, as they don’t speak, but clasp hands and gaze at each other… then the credits roll.

As you’d expect with a BBC period drama based on a classic novel, it’s beautifully shot with much attention to detail, although I still think everyone’s teeth should be worse (except Orlick who has rotten teeth already, denoting his evil character). There are repeated motifs of pinned butterflies to represent the situation of women in the era. It’s a very serious and dark production, lacking the humour of the book, which comes from the writing style, more than the content. I haven’t seen any other adaptations, other than the black and white film, but I may watch them if I have the opportunity.

Images are the thumbnails for the episodes on the BBC iPlayer website.

Miranda Sawyer was a music journalist in the 90s and she spent a lot of time with bands; interviewing, hanging out, watching gigs and at festivals. She therefore brings a personal perspective to the characters and the music. The writing style is entertaining and evocative. She chose 20 songs and for each chapter, she writes about the band, with particular focus on that song. The key word from the title is ‘beyond’, because although there are the usual suspects, it includes some you might not immediately consider as Britpop, such as PJ Harvey, Radiohead, Underworld and Tricky. Britpop, it transpires, doesn’t mean much at all. Even the most famous bands associated with it did not call themselves Britpop, so it was really a convenient term for the media to use. The book celebrates the years when indie rock and pop music by British (or Welsh, Scottish, Northern Irish) groups dominated the charts and the papers. It’s not an exhaustive account of the era and is selective about the groups (for a more comprehensive survey, read I Was Britpopped, and for a wider context, read Don’t Look Back in Anger). I think it’s most valuable for its discussion of women in music, in the context of the magazine culture of the time.

Published by John Murray, 2024.

Not to be confused with Uncommon People: The Rise and Fall of the Rock Stars by David Hepworth.

The film follows the book quite closely, with some changes to the plot at the end, plus more graphic violence. I thought Amanda Seyfried was very effective in the role of Nina, the apparently-crazy wife. She hadn’t deliberately put on weight though, as her book counterpart did. I really didn’t believe Sydney Sweeney in the character of Millie, the housemaid who has been in prison. For a start, she had fantastic teeth for someone imprisoned for a decade and who is living in her car. She furrowed her brow a lot in an irritating way, but otherwise her acting seemed wooden. Brandon Sklenar was unconvincing at first as Andrew, but I kind of warmed to his acting, the more terrible his character became. Cece, the little girl, was not so vulnerable as in the book and she had a creepy dolls’ house which gives us a hint that something isn’t right. The role of gardener Enzo was reduced, so that whenever he turned up, I realised I’d forgotten he was even in the movie. The fancy house was perfect though, just as you might imagine it from the book.

If you’re a fan of the book, you’ll probably like the film!

Image credit: https://www.fandango.com/the-housemaid-2025-242549/movie-photos-posters, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=81086373