REVIEW: Stasi Child

How do you find a fresh way to approach the detective novel? David Young's Stasi Child has a decent answer - with the setting, scenario and characters required for a fascinating tale.

After wallowing in a bit of degree nostalgia with Richard J Evans, I was attracted to this book by the fact it was set in 1970s East Germany. I'd been fascinated by the GDR and the Stasi at university and this seemed an intriguing backdrop for a detective story. The central character, Karin Müller, is a police chief tasked with investigating the case of a grisly murder under the prying eyes of the Stasi, the infamous secret police.

Fittingly, there's more than meets the eye about the case and pretty much all of the characters we come across. Young captures the paranoia and corruption of the East German state well and it all serves to keep you guessing. All of the main characters have their own agenda and we see their back stories slowly peeled back, mirroring the progress of the case itself. It's refreshing to see the focus on 'real' people too - this is a Cold War thriller that isn't all about spies.

Through Müller we also see a different at the GDR. She's someone who doesn't yearn to escape to the west - she's sympathetic to the ideals of the socialist state and is appalled by the perceived excesses of the 'other Germany'. This makes her character all the more interesting for me. It's often difficult to understand how people in authoritarian regimes thought - and why they 'go along' with them - Müller helps us to see this. Her outlook doesn't make for a rose-tinted view of the GDR, but it does offer a richer understanding of the way real people acted and thought. Hopefully it will encourage people to delve further into the history of this short-lived but fascinating regime.

It's perhaps no surprise that the book is pretty grim too. I'm not sure anyone has a happy ending - and many characters are forced to make dark choices as events unfold. Just as we think Irma - a child we first find locked up in an institution for 'wayward' children - is going to get a positive future, for example, we learn that the price of her freedom is to spy on her mother for the Stasi. Informing on friends, family and neighbours was a macabre feature of the East German state and her story brings this to the fore powerfully.

We learn much of Irma's journey through first-person chapters which are interspersed throughout the narrative. It's an interesting writing device, and helps to build up the sense of mystery as the case develops.

Perhaps it's a little convenient that Klaus Jäger - the Stasi puppet master pulling the strings for much of the book - just fills in Müller with some of the missing details at the end to bring us up to speed but that's definitely forgivable and does explain away why some of the steps in the investigation feel a little coincidental.

All in all, Young weaves a complex web of intrigue over an atmospheric backdrop with Stasi Child. It's a riveting read and you can't help but be impressed by the quality on offer for this debut novel. Young tackles child abuse, corruption, authoritarianism, sexual abuse and relationships for good measure. He's also produced a set of three-dimensional characters and a detective story with a difference. I'm certainly looking forward to catching up on how he puts all of these puzzle pieces together in the next two Müller stories.

REVIEW: What Sport Tells Us About Life

Some people have it all don't they? You could surely be forgiven for envying someone with the talent to be a top cricketer. It's a sport that I'm only 'built' to watch but love. I also find myself reading some top class writers and wishing I had their flair and marvel at the talents of skilled broadcasters. But someone who can do all three? Now that's just not fair...

Yet, in Ed Smith, such a person exists. I'd maybe hold it against him if I did enjoy his work so much.

Having appreciated his insight on Test Match Special - and been impressed by his forays into the pages of the New Statesman - this book was an obvious choice. It's a short book, comprised of 15 essays that address thought-provoking topics. These range from 'The age of the amateur has passed. Worse luck', 'What do people see when they watch sport?' and 'Why luck matters - and admitting it matters more'. All perfect fodder for a lunch time work reading club.

There's a lot packed in to a short space and it's a richly rewarding read that manages to remain insightful without ever becoming inaccessible.

It'd be unfair to categorise this as a sports book - as the name suggests, sport is merely the prism through which we consider some fascinating observations about the world around us, including the role chance plays in our lives and cultural identities.

Best of the lot, for me, was the chapter entitled 'Why history matters in sport (and how England won the 2005 Ashes)'. It's hard to do it justice here, but the way Smith sums up the different theories that might be used to explain the 2005 victory over Australia by comparing them to historical approaches ticked every box for a cricket-loving history graduate.

The chapter also contains a beautiful definition of history, with Smith stating: "The past is a treasure trove of information waiting to be ordered analytically into judgements."

Throw in a pleasing reference to Brian Clough and Peter Taylor - I'm a sucker for a Forest mention - and a thought provoking passage on the way any people watch the same action on the field but 'see' something different (something we all ought to reflect on in an adversarial age of Twitter spats) and you're left with a brilliant blend of material.

Perhaps the only problem here is that there isn't more. I could've easily tucked into twice as many chapters. It certainly feels like I landed on an underrated gem with this book, one that wouldn't disappoint if you landed on it too.

REVIEW: The Third Reich in History and Memory

Do you ever wish you could go back to the subject you studied at university? Maybe I'm sad, but I often do. I finished my three-year history undergraduate degree 11 years ago, but I still wish I could keep up to date with the latest ideas and interpretations being put forward by historians. A BBC History Magazine subscription scratches the itch to be fair, but I know there's more 'going on' in the world of history that I'm missing.

I quite fancied doing a Masters but journalism called - and I don't regret moving on to something that offered a job at the end of it.

Anyway, it was a sense of 'degree nostalgia' that drew me to my latest book, The Third Reich in History and Memory by Richard J Evans.

My degree actually started with a module looking at the study of history. In essence, we were asked to consider whether the study of history was really possible or worthwhile. I wonder of they still do that in an era of £9,000-plus fees. Would they want those high-paying students to question the value of their course??

Still, it was during this daunting and difficult early module that I stumbled across Richard J Evans' book In Defence of History. As the name suggests, it offered a strong case for the real value of my degree subject of choice. It remains to this day the most inspiring and influential book I've ever had the pleasure of reading.

From then on I knew I could trust Evans to provide a robust analysis of history and this book was the perfect fit for me. A collection of essays, speeches and reviews from recent years, this explores the latest debates and developments in the studies of Nazi Germany. In essence, this filled me in on everything that's happened in the decade since I was last engaged in academic study and had access to journals etc.

The book is a real triumph, flowing surprisingly well given that it's a collection of material that weren't originally intended as one volume. Indeed the 'episodic' nature of the content was ideally suited to our reading club at work - even if the occasional passer by looked a little perplexed by the subject matter for a lunch time read.

I was particularly intrigued by the sections exploring the way in which people have attempted to link 19th Century German foreign policy and the actions of the Nazis - and Evans' views on the extent to which we can say the Nazis led a 'dictatorship by consent'.

I won't attempt to explore any of the arguments here - I doubt I'd do Evans justice - but it's great to read the work of someone at the top of their profession arguing passionately and persuasively based on facts and experience. Evans is sometimes scathing in his reviews but always seems, to me at least, fair even when he's being firm.

This book ended up being much more than just degree nostalgia. It was intellectually stimulating and enlightening at every twist and turn and I'm pleased I picked it up. If you're missing your degree subject at all, I hope you're lucky enough to be able to find a book like this one.

REVIEW: The Man in the High Castle

You sometimes reach a crossroads with a book don't you? A moment when you pause, scratch your chin, gaze out of the window and ponder 'where is this going?' and perhaps even 'is this any good?'.

I had such a moment with Philip K Dick's The Man in the High Castle. It was about 150 pages in but I decided to crack on, read a couple more chapters and see where it took me. Luckily my persistence was rewarded and I came away glad to have picked this unusual book up.

Take a look at any one-line review or short summary of this book and you'll see that it is described as a dystopian 'what it?' work, exploring what would happen in America if the Nazis and their allies had 'won' the Second World War.

While that's strictly true it really isn't the whole story. I'll admit I was wrong-footed by this book and it's probably what led me to question where it was going. Yes, this is set in an America divided into Japanese, German and neutral thirds but we see this world in a more abstract way, through the eyes of a clutch of intriguing characters. The book isn't about what the Nazis and Japanese would do if they were victorious, it's about how real people would react and what they would think. The ways in which day-to-day life is governed underpins it all, but it's in the background. Events in Germany - with a regime change - loom large, but are seen from afar. There's a chilling mention of what has happened in Africa since the war, with the detail left to the worst of your own imagination to fill in. Most tellingly everyone is seemingly pretty much resigned to life 'as it is', with the action taking place a good twenty years after the end of the war. There's a downbeat feel to the defeated Americans which contrasts wildly with the tubthumping 'God Bless America' of the hegemon of the real world.

The most fascinating aspect comes through the 'book within a book' that lies at the heart of The Man in the High Castle - with the fictional characters all intrigued by their own 'what if?' text, widely read across the States and written by an author who examines what would've happened if the Nazis hadn't won.

It's not always easy to identify with the characters written by Philip K Dick but remarkable things happen to some fairly unremarkable people as the book builds to a close - with a dash of espionage and intrigue coming to the boil in the final third. There's a plot to kill Hawthorn Abendsen - the man behind the aforementioned book - and the realisation that the Nazis are planning to oust their Japanese allies and take over the bits of the world they aren't already in control of.

This isn't really like anything else I've read but that's no bad thing. None of the plot threads are neatly sewn up but, strangely, that doesn't matter too much. This is an eerie book, an alternative reality that poses lots of questions and gets you thinking. If you park your preconceptions and accept the slightly odd nature of many of the characters then there's a reward to be had.

I haven't seen the TV adaptation - I've been reluctant to give money to Amazon after it blew hideous sums on those old Top Gear morons - but it would be fascinating to see what's done with the material here. My hunch is that some of the more obvious 'what if?' stuff might have to be shoe horned back in and it'd be interesting to see what impact that has.

Still, this has all whetted my appetite to return to reading a decent history book. So, next up, I'm going to make another diversion away from my 'next five books' and read something by one of my favourite historians, Richard J Evans. I'll let you know what I think...

REVIEW Brexit: What The Hell Happens Now?

Ok, so I've already deviated from my 'next five books' plan. However, it's with good reason. As soon as I'd snapped up Ian Dunt's 'Brexit: What The Hell Happens Now?' I was keen to get going, not least before Theresa May triggered Article 50. I've appreciated Dunt's superb analysis of post-referendum Britain for some time now on Twitter and in a series of columns. Luckily the book delivers the same blend of smart insight and wit.

There are two over-riding feelings I was left with by the end. Firstly, you have to take your hat off for what Ian Dunt has achieved here. To have been able to produce such an informative text within a relatively short time only increases my admiration for him. Not only that, but the book is future proofed, staying just as relevant now as it was when written - despite the election of a US president and all that has happened in the UK since (including the debate over the Scottish referendum). I feel like I'll refer back to this as a sort of instruction manual to whatever happens after this Wednesday.

For me, Dunt strikes the perfect balance in the book. There's the right level of detail on some fairly complex issues but, at 160-odd pages, it can all be digested quickly and easily. It's clearly the result of a lot of research and hard work - without ever feeling the need to talk down to the reader. The passages on veterinary medicine, farming and fishing are great examples of the complexity of the issues up for negotiation, a complexity which was all-too-often buried amid the bluster of both sides of the referendum campaign.

Yet, aside from admiration, I also came away from this feeling pretty terrified. The next few years are going to be one hell of a challenge aren't they? I'd love to say that I have confidence that David Davis, Liam Fox and Boris Johnson have mastered the topic of the EU as well as Dunt, but I just don't see it. As he ably demonstrates, there's a lot to do in a short space of time and a distinct lack of the manpower and expertise needed to deliver. Since reading this, I've been taken by how many times I've read and heard people glibly talk about 'falling back on WTO rules' or 'access to the single market' despite clearly having little or no appreciation for what this means in practice.

Indeed, you feel this book shouldn't just be on the shelves of Waterstones but in the pigeon holes of every MP. There's also a sadness to be had in the fact that so little of the workings of the EU - and the potential options for a post-EU future - were understood by the people who went out to vote on June 23rd last year. I still feel like we were given the option of a 'yes/no' answer to a question that was far more complex that a black and white choice such as that.

But this book isn't a polemic delivered by a sore loser (can we scrap the word 'Remoaner' from use? 'Brexit' is bad enough). Yes, it begins with a fairly sobering vision of a worst case scenario in the first chapter but Dunt stresses that the dangers that he outlines in the book arise from the way Brexit is delivered, not Brexit itself. As he puts it:

"Ultimately it is British values which will help get the country through this difficult new period: calm debate, instinctive scepticism, practical judgement and moderation. We appear to have lost sight of these values. The sooner we reaffirm our commitment to them, the better off we will be."

That said, I can't help feeling like Brexit will turn out to be a monumental mistake and the scale of the challenge Dunt sets out only served to convince me that we're about to head along the wrong path. I am worried about what happens next, frankly, and I've seen nothing since June that allays my fears. Dunt's values seem sadly missing from public debate.

For an understanding of what Brexit really means and what our future could look like, I couldn't recommend Dunt's highly enough. It delivers on its promise to be a readable guide to the 'biggest story of the decade' and is a superb piece of writing.

I'm heading back to my original plan next and will be picking up The Man In The High Castle by Philip K Dick. From a bleak real life vision of the future to a dystopian one, maybe it's a natural move?

REVIEW: Dent's Modern Tribes

After starting my reading quest with a bit of fun from Alan Partridge, I jumped head long into Countdown word guru Susie Dent's latest book and certainly wasn't disappointed. 

Dent's Modern Tribes: The Secret Languages of Britain is a celebration of the words and phrases shared by groups of people right across the country - from doctors to journalists to teachers and beyond. It's fascinating, funny and - for some who spends all day trying to pick the right words at work - inspirational.

In some respects it would have been easy for this to slip into being a pseudo-dictionary. As much as that would have been fairly interesting, it wouldn't have made for the greatest continuous read and Dent settles neatly on a well-paced structure instead. Each group is introduced with a short-but-sweet exploration of the type of words and language that they use, followed by lists of terms and their definitions.

That certainly all makes this a good bite-size read to dip in and out of and was perfect for our lunch time reading club. There's little chance that you'll get bogged down or bored here, jumping from bird watchers to darts players to undertakers to freemasons, via plenty of places along the way.

I'm continually fascinated by the words and phrases that we use and the stories behind why we use them and where they come from. It's in these stories that the words offer important nuggets of information about the people who use them and this book is riddled with such stories. It's through these words and stories that many old traditions live on - even in this more digital-led era.

As you go through Modern Tribes, it's interesting to note the threads that run throughout many of our 'secret languages'. Sexual innuendo and black humour, in particular, feature at almost every level of society - shaping the slang that we use on a daily basis. Plenty of these are bound to make you chortle (or maybe that says more about me?) and yearn to deploy some of the most fun in your own life. Dent, you feel, revels in revealing the cheekiest words possible.

There's also great fun to be had in spotting the terms that are familiar with you. The section on the language of journalists and publishers certainly made my eyes light up and contained many familiar words that were par for the course in my newsroom days (spike, splash, nibs, kickers, back-of-the-book etc). The sheer breadth of the groups covered means that I'm sure many people will find something to relate to here.

Modern Tribes is, therefore, a window through which we can have a good old nosey at the worlds of all sorts of different people. It's a word based form of people watching - as well as a celebration of our weird and wonderful language - and is great fun as a result.

Nomad by Alan Partridge and rediscovering the reading bug

I'm up and running. After a moan in my last blog about struggling to find the time to read, things have picked up on the book front. Luckily, it emerged that my colleagues (Flora and Ellie) were harbouring a similar wish and, as a result, a small work reading club has emerged. Twice-weekly lunchtime reading sessions have helped me pick up the pace and it has encourage me to get away from a screen for a bit (he says, typing at home). I can certainly recommend it to anyone if you're lucky enough to have a decent space and fellow bookworms working with you.

As planned, I kick-started 2017 with Nomad 'by' Alan Partridge, figuring that it'd be best to ease myself in gently with an easy read and a bit of fun.

Luckily it lived up to the billing. Steve Coogan, Neil Gibbons and Rob Gibbons seem to get better and better at writing for Partridge, finding new situations and observations that keep the character fresh, funny and relevant. It probably should be old hat by now, the fact it isn't is a testament to the quality of the writing, whether it's for television, cinema or, here, as a book.

This book plots Alan's not-so-epic journey from Norwich to Dungeness Nuclear Power Station on the Kent coast, a trip his father had once taken for a job interview. The conceit is, in itself, a parody of the walks, road trips, train journeys etc that celebrities regularly perform and gives the whole thing a neat device to thread it all together.

If anything the premise worked better than that of I Partridge, the character's last literary outing. While I enjoyed that one, the autobiographical format meant that large chunks of it had - out of necessity - to retread the steps of old TV episodes with a greatest hits-esque feel. This all felt fresher, with a narrative loose enough to allow us to veer off along the journey and enjoy a few laughs.

The highlight of the book came in one such random aside. A chapter named 'Edmonds' promised much and reading of the apparent feud between the Deal Or No Deal host and Partridge was indeed laugh out loud funny. The word 'wazzock' certainly needs to make a comeback I feel.

The character's views on celebrities in general - from Eamonn Holmes to Ben Fogle and Dan Snow (or 'Snogle' as their said to be known) - offer plenty of enjoyment. You always feel that the authors have had great fun in using Alan to poke fun at certain people.

Nomad veers from the observational - Partridge's take on the mis-named Head & Shoulders was enjoyable - right through to Operation Yewtree. Yes, really. Footnotes are deployed to good comic effect - as is the ongoing quest to 'fill out' the book.

In the end, this was exactly what I needed. A good, fun, quick read to start the ball rolling and an enjoyable way to escape for a while. Next stop Susie Dent...

What I learned from...Das Reboot

First things first, what a title. I'm a sucker for a good play on words so Raphael Honigstein pretty much had me with the two-word name of this book. Luckily the rest of the text lives up to the promise of the title.

I've always enjoyed Honigstein's coverage for the Guardian and his appearances on James Richardson's Football Weekly podcast. I've also long been a fan of the reinvented German national side and its entertaining journey from loveable hosts in 2006 (the year I first visited the country) to world champions eight years later. This, then, was a too-good-to-miss combination.

Luckily the intelligent insight of Honigstein's journalism shines through in the book as he pieces together the entertaining journey and the reasons behind it.

He neatly sidesteps the temptation to wallow in the glory of the games that led to the final in Brazil, interspersing moments from the victorious 2014 campaign with flashbacks to events from 2004 (and, in cases, before). It's a neat device that subtly shows how the pieces of the puzzle all fitted together and how events in Brazil were the direct culmination of plans put in place and lessons learned over a decade or more.

It's perhaps timely to read Honigstein's book now, at a moment when English football is searching for its umpteenth new dawn and another new manager at the helm of the national side. I couldn't help but come away feeling that England are light years behind Germany. Maybe the FA board all ought to have a leaf through Das Reboot before making their next move.

So, how did they do it? Well, Honigstein offers fascinating detail about the key ways in which German football, to quote the subheader, 'reinvented itself and conquered the world'. We see how new coaches and a new manager embrace new tactics and a fresh approach. We also see the importance of learning lessons from other sports - notably hockey - and a more professional approach to the sport. As Honigstein notes, other jobs had long-carried a need for qualifications, standards and regulations - so why not football? This manifests itself in the form of better academies - graded by strict standards and rewarded financially for meeting them - many more trained coaches and the need for players to be smart off the field as well as on it.

It's a system that produces technically and mentally astute young players who are ready for the Bundesliga and beyond. An interesting contrast with the transfer-obsessed Premier League. The next step, it seems, will be to demand certain standards of the people who take the role of sporting director - something still laughably derided in some circles in this country. German football also learned to wean itself off a soap-opera style form of coverage of games, which carried an obsession of the 'character' of the players and the role of key leaders.

There are also interesting passages on the use of technology. From a bespoke app for the 2014 squad to use to share clips and analysis of themselves and their opponents to a 'Footbonaut' machine that helps players to prepare for the unexpected in the heat of the battle on the field. The latter, it seems, could be seen to have directly contributed to the goal scored by Mario Götze.

Honigstein also looks at the Swabian influence behind the footballing revolution in Germany - from Klinsmann and Löw to Klopp, Tuchel, Ralf Rangnick and beyond - and the way this hard-working, financially successful region with a penchant for problem-solving became so important.

Then, of course, there's the insight to the World Cup campaign itself. From the disastrous pre-tournament camp to the tactical criticism of Löw and the struggles against Ghana and Algeria, its fascinating to see how the squad faced up to setbacks. It's easy for English fans, from the outside, to slip into stereotypes and presume the German football team is a slick, calm operation that doesn't have the same problems that befell 'our boys'. This shows that that is nonsense. Löw's side simply learned from its mistakes and reacted better to the problems it encountered.

Equally fascinating was the reaction to the 7-1 trouncing of Brazil in the semi final. The players almost feel a little guilty at having so comprehensively destroyed the dreams of their hosts. They are also annoyed at conceding a late goal in a game in which, amazingly, they had fewer attempts and fewer shots on target than the Brazil team that they so royally thumped and are desperate to guard against getting carried away after a result in which, frankly, most of us would've been extremely 'carried away'. Still, that's another lesson learned from the past and another mark of what made them worthy world champions.

Returning to England, though, is there really anything here that we should learn? The Germans, after all, won through long term investment, a brave approach and by treating football with the same seriousness as other sectors in the economy. Perhaps, without getting too deep, we should be worried that we don't have an equally successful industrial model to transplant onto football in this country?

Das Reboot is a superbly-written account of a fascinating story. It adds extra detail and insight to familiar events - including chapters in the words of Thomas Hitzlsperger and Arne Friedrich - as well rich new material. It's evey bit as good as the title promises.