My Favourite Non-Fiction Reads of the Year

It’s that time of year, The endless lists. I’m joining in too. Next week, I’ll write about my favourite fiction. But this week, I’ll instead focus on my 10 favourite non-fiction reads of 2025. I’m not ranking them. I’ll start with my most recent read, and reach back towards January. ‘Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin’. (who’s old enough and British enough to remember this welcoming formula introducing Listen with Mother on the Home Service at 1.45 every weekday in the early 1950s?)

A Short History of America: from Tea Party to Trump: Simon Jenkins. Jenkins puts right my formerly really rather sketchy grap of American history in a highly readable account of its early days as a barely inhabited continent, through its early discovery by Asiatic peoples on the one coast, and Vikings and similar on the other. Native American; intellectual and economic development; the long history of slavery; the Civil War; and right up to more recent history and the emergence of Trump. It’s lucid, informative and useful.

The Lie of the Land: Guy Shrubsole. This is a book that should be read by every sitting MP, particularly those Tory MPs anxious to preserve the status quo as far as our countryside is concerned. It is about our countryside and who gets to decide how it’s used: about the way the countryside has been treated has made the UK so nature-impoverished. It’s about how our history has give much of our countryside over to the landowner. It’s about the shooting industry; the draining of the fens; the Enclosure Acts. And it’s a Call to Action.

Island Stories – An Unconventional History of Britain: David Reynolds. In this book, Reynolds demonstrates how England (not to be confused with Britain) has, from the earliest years, even before the Roman Empire took this island under its wing, been inextricably bound to mainland Europe and beyond in dozens of ways, both political and social. He shows how our Glorious Past, our days of Empire grew up in conditions that can never be repeated, and how in any case had many aspects – slavery, subjugation of indigenous peoples – of which we cannot be proud. He looks at the Brexit delusion of making a ‘clean break’ from Europe and demonstates its impossibility, especially in the context of the four nations that currently constitute the British Isles. A thought-provoking read.

And now for something completely different. Raising Hare: Chloe Dalton. Dalton finds a small, apparently abandoned leveret. This is her story. Of how she treads a difficult path of wishing to help it survive to adulthood, while respecting its wildness. But the creature has a profound effect on Dalton. She strives, as she describes in this book to restore a sense of the sacred and to meet an animal on its own terms. Its part in her life changes her forever.

Stuffed: Pen Vogler. This is a book to relish, as it journeys through the history of eating, in good times and in bad, in the British Isles. It doesn’t begin at the beginning, then go on until it comes to the end, and then stop. Instead it works thematically, focussing in turn on some of the foodstuffs that perhaps define us:for instance, bread & ale; turnips (yes, really!); herring; Yorkshire pudding; gruel … and several more. She tells a good story, bringing it right up to date by mentioning the campaigns by Marcus Rashford and Jamie Oliver, and comparing child poverty and malnutrition as it presents now, with Victorian and even earlier times. A well-researched and highly readable book.

Bird School: Adam Nicolson. Nicolson was not a birder. But he decided to change that, and had a rather superior bird hide built in a wild corner of his Sussex farm. And there, all manner of birds come, and he learns. And teaches us: about surviving; singing;breeding; flying; migrating – every aspect of bird life. The story however, turns somewhat depressing. Birds here are in decline, because the natural world is generally in decline. Nicholson tells us why, so we can join the fight for the natural world in our turn.

Let’s go indoors now, and off to America: All the Beauty in the World: Patrick Bringley. I loved this book. Here is a highly educated man who left his start-of-a-glittering-career in a period of grief following the death of his 27 year old brother, to become a museum attendant at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. He spent ten fulfilled years there. In his book he talks about the works of art he spent his day with; the collections themselves; his colleagues; the visitors; his personal life. He’s perceptive, likeable and tells a good story. The accompanying illustrations by Maya McMahon tantalisingly suggest the works we can see when we get there.

The Meteorites: Helen Gordon. I picked this up in the library on a whim. I knew little about Deep Space, and next to nothing about meteorites. Not only do I now know more about the rich variety of forms they take, how they are formed and where they might come from, but I’ve met the dealers, hunters academics and geologists involved in the meteorite community across the world. I now have a whole new perspective on our planet and outer space,and a hunger to know more, by reading this engaging and enjoyable book.

A little Book of Language: David Crystal. Here’s a book which with a broad brush, discusses all kinds of aspects of language: How a baby learns to communicate; how sounds are made; languages and dialects; writing; changing and evolving and disappearing languages; slang and style … and so much more. Not all of this was new to me – this is not the first Crystal book I’ve read – but all of it is told in a lively and engaging way, encouraging thought and discussion. 

And finally … Island Dreams: Gavin Francis. This is a beautifully produced book. On heavy paper, with blue and black ink, the text is allowed generous space to breathe. As well, the text is interspersed – also generously – with maps old and new illustrating the outlines of islands he visits and discusses. These are the only illustrations. It encompasses myth, psychology, philosophy, literature and straightforward travel writing. So this is a book to savour and linger over, returning several times to the maps on display.

And if you’re going to push me into naming a favourite? Raising Hare, no question. Heartwarming, thoughtful, highlighting the tension between the natural world and our own, beautifully written.

I’m not going to be able to respond to any comments this weekend. Family Official Christmas, ahead of the usual date. But replies will happen.

David Hockney at Salts Mill

Here we are. A large installation – a collage – one of David Hockney’s iPad works. Each of these nine ’tiles’ shows a constantly changing set of views of the same scene at different times, independently of all the others. The full image is in a case of constant flux, always showing a slightly different aspect of the snow scene Hockney was viewing. It’s a bit like those plastic puzzles that I had as a child with 15 tiles and one blank space, so you could move the tiles around till you made a picture. Or not, in my case, usually.

In the absence of actual snow this year, I offer you this snow scene for the week before Christmas, and for Leanne’s Monochrome Madness.

More Windows from Salts Mill

Today I bring you not just one, but twenty or more windows from the shop on the ground floor of Salts Mill in Saltaire. Its magnificent bookshop is upstairs, but here, as you come in, you can buy posters and cards, stationery and supplies, art materials – all temptingly laid out for browsers who wander around this space, decorated with vast ceramic pieces from Leeds-based Burmantofts pottery, elegant vases of fresh lilies. The window in the featured photo is in the entrance hall to the Mill, and hints at the treasures to be found within.

For Monday Windows, hosted this week by Brian of Bushboy’s World.

Alexis Soyer: My Latest Pin-Up

Last week, a blog post by Steve of A London Miscellany took my eye. It’s about a 19th Century French celebrity chef working in London who became struck by the plight of the city’s poor. Do read this post about a remarkable man: a talented cook and inventor with a practical social conscience.

I heartly recommend Steve’s weekly blog posts. He always has interesting and curious tales to tell about London’s past

The image of Alexis Soyer shown as the featured photo is a picture painted by his wife, and currently in the Reform Club, London.

The Space Between….

That’s the title of Stupidity Hole‘s intriguing challenge as guest presenter of Monochrome Madness.

I started off with the obvious. The restricted spaces in narrow lanes, alleyways and thoroughfares.

Then I remembered the time when my grandson leapt into the space between the strokes of the letter O in a street installation.

Or there’s the curious tree near us where the space between the two parts of its malformed trunk form an ad hoc picture frame.

And lastly, a negative image. The tree occupies the space between an apparently endless expanse of – well- fresh air.

Thanks, Stupidity Hole for providing a provocative challenge to engage the mind on an excessively windy winter morning.

Love Your Library

Rebecca of Bookish Beck fame has a monthly challenge – Love your Library. She uses her own post to tell us what she has read, what she is reading, what she gave up on or never even started, and what she’ll read next. That’s what I’ll do too.

But first. Why do I love my library? Well, I’m lucky. Our County Council still prioritises books. It’s not often that we have a week when no new stock comes into our branch. New releases; books that have won some literary prize; works in translation; books from small indie publishers; old favourites and non-fiction of all kinds all get a look in.

These days, our libraries run on a mixture of professional staff and volunteers: some smaller libraries are entirely volunteer-run. And I’m a volunteer at our local, bigger library. I love it. First of all, it’s easy to get first dibs on new stock. But the tasks are varied. Processing books from other libraries requested by our own readers. Sending copies of books we stock to other libraries who’ve requested them. Helping the public with queries about books; parking; local clubs; photocopying …. And shelving. Always shelving. But that’s OK. Being shallow, I often judge a book by its cover, and I rarely get through a morning without finding something appetising to borrow. To go with the dozen or more I usually have on reserve.

And anyway, on the morning I usually volunteer there’s a pre-school music group in the children’s section, and I’ll find myself singing along (strictly to myself) to ‘Hola! A todos aqui‘, or ‘Row, row, row your boat‘, as I wander round with my book trolley, shelving. Friends turn up to change their books. We have a quick chat. The morning passes quickly.

So. What have I read during November? Normally I’ll do a mini-review, but this post is quite long enough already, so star-ratings will have to do.

  • Magpie Murders: Anthony Horowitz ⭐⭐
  • Carte Blanche: Carlo Lucarelli (Translated by Michael Reynolds) ⭐⭐⭐⭐*
  • Peace on the Western Front: Mattia Signorini (Translated by Vicki Satlow) ⭐⭐⭐*
  • A Station on the Path to Somewhere Better: Benjamin Wood ⭐⭐⭐⭐
  • The Rich People Have Gone Away: Regina Porter ⭐⭐⭐
  • The Dinner Party: Viola van de Sandt ⭐⭐⭐
  • The Frozen River: Ariel Lawhon ⭐⭐⭐⭐
  • Run Me to Earth: Paul Yoon⭐⭐⭐⭐
  • The Penelopiad: Margaret Atwood ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐*
  • The Wax Child: Olga Ravn (Translated by Martin Aitken) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐*
  • The Silver Book: Olivia Laing ⭐⭐⭐⭐
  • Burnt Shadows: Kamila Shamsie ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Before you say that seems a lot, remember that 4 (marked *) are novellas, and therefore short, reviewed here. But you’re right. This has been a book-heavy month.

Borrowed and yet to be read, or currently being read:

  • A Short History of America: from Tea Party to Trump: Simon Jenkins
  • Reward System: Jem Calder
  • Close Range: Wyoming Stories: Annie Proulx
  • The North Road: Rob Cowen

As I have nine books on reserve, it’s possible some of the already-borrowed books may end up unread. You can never tell. Some books I reserve come straight away. Some take so long I’d forgotten I’d reserved them. One hasn’t even been published yet!

I DID abandon a couple of books, but I forgot to note them down, and they went out of my head the second they got back to the library.

So that’s my month in books … and in my library. I took most of the shots in the minutes before the library opened, in order not to ruffle any feathers. Actually, it’s well-used and should look rather more peopled. But at least nobody’s been upset by being photographed on a bad-hair day.

‘No Bird Soars Too High if He Soars with His Own Wings’

It was William Blake who said that. And as this week’s Lens Artists Challenge, hosted by Beth is all about Wings, I thought I’d focus on birds.

And they’d better be flying, to illustrate William Blake’s thoughts. Here’s an Arctic Tern. There’s another as the featured photo.

Here’s an egret landing. It caught me unawares, so not the whole of its wings made it into the image.

But most of my shots will feature birds at rest – all the better to demonstrate their plumage. Although here is a cormorant with wings extended. Not flying though.

Here are some of the rest. These images were taken at a demonstration at Thorpe Perrow, and while I know the first one is a ferruginous hawk, I didn’t note the owl names. Can anybody help?

I thought this female mallard deserved a close-up of her wing feathers.

Just as I thought this peacock could afford to show off his wing feathers, and I could for once ignore his splendid tail display.

And finally – a pigeon with slightly OTT wing markings.

Also for Leanne’s Monochrome Madness.

... and I. J. Khanewala’s Bird of the Week – even though I have birds, plural.