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...

My next five books

I don't really 'do' new year resolutions, which is a good thing really because I'd be pretty late to the party with this blog. It's not just because they're naff and swiftly forgotten - although that's one big reason - but also because I have one rolling/ongoing resolution that stands regardless of what date it happens to be: to read more books.

It's something I'm continually failing to do thanks to a combination of social media (not helped by following the fortunes of a dysfunctional football club) newspapers and magazines, which all eat into valuable reading time. I've often fancied finding a sneaky retreat for 20 minutes at a lunchtime at work but always chickened out.

Still, in the spirit of getting better, I've decided to map out the next five books that I'm going to read in the hope that it spurs me on. I don't usually do this but I'm hoping that having this carrot dangled before me will do the trick. I don't profess to want to fill my time with Booker Prize winners or academic texts (although there's a few history books on the shelf that are giving me a glare), I just want to read something that captures the imagination, whether funny, entertaining or thought-provoking.

Luckily, a combination of a late November birthday and Christmas have left me in a good position, with plenty of fun things that I'm itching to get started with. If your book appears on this list, thanks very much, you obviously know me well.

Nomad, Alan Partridge

I'm an unashamed fan of Alan Partridge and have got high hopes for 'his' latest book. Following on from the autobiography - I, Partridge: We Need To Talk About Alan - Steve Coogan and Rob and Neil Gibbons have penned a spoof travel book following a not-so-epic cross-Britain journey for everyone's favourite North Norfolk Digital DJ. I think the trio have become even better at writing for Alan in recent years and their work never fails to make me smile.

The bag pages plugs alone have had me chuckling and I think this might be the perfect read to lift a gloomy January/February day and a nice one to set the ball rolling.

Dent's Modern Tribes: The Secret Languages of Britain, Susie Dent

I'm fascinated by the way in which we use language and the origins of the words we use. That's probably not very rock n roll I know, but that's me. As a result, I'm often dazzled by the insight of Countdown wordsmith-in-chief Susie Dent (she's worth a follow on Twitter too). Modern Tribes involves Dent looking at the words and terminology only used by distinct groups of people across the UK, including journalists.

A Life In Questions, Jeremy Paxman

I miss Jeremy Paxman. I mean, I know he's still on University Challenge but it's not the same. His Newsnight interviews were superb to watch and put a healthy dollop of pressure and scrutiny on public figures. If his memoirs are half as good as his interviews then they'll be a cracking read.

The Man In The Castle, Philip K Dick

I've heard plenty of good things about both this book and the Amazon Prime TV series it inspired so it's time to see what the fuss is all about. Mind you, it remains to be seen if a dystopian alternative reality in which the 'bad guys' rule America is any different to sticking the news on at the moment.

What Sport Tells Us About Life, Ed Smith

Ed Smith has become one of my favourite voices on BBC's Test Match Special, always describing the unfolding action with a beautifully relaxing and reassuring eloquence. Yet, on top of broadcasting - and a decent cricketing career - he's also a fantastically talented writer (some people eh?). So, when I stumbled upon this little beauty it was too good to miss. It's a collection of 15 essays addressing topics from 'Why there will never be another Bradman' to 'Is the free market ruining sport?' and 'What do people see when they watch sport?'. Right up my street.


So, there we go. I'm pretty pleased with how that's all looking, now it's just time to actually get on with some reading. I'll aim to come back and let you know if they're as good as I hope...

The Crown: A right royal triumph for Netflix

There's a near endless stream of hype surrounding TV these days. So much so that I find it all a bit 'cry wolf'. How can you know which series' really are the 'real deal' and which ones are just pretending to be?

It's perhaps for this reason that I've long lagged behind the modern world and resisted Netflix. I don't watch enough telly to justify getting it. Yet when we recently succumbed and signed up for the streaming service, The Crown was one of the shows on our hitlist. Much had been made of Peter Morgan' expensive royal series and the reviews had been pretty positive. Luckily, it turned out that this was one of the shows that justifies the hype.

Duty calls. #TheCrown. Now streaming on Netflix. pic.twitter.com/MIdHOeJCym

— The Crown (@TheCrownNetflix) November 4, 2016

The first thing to note is the casting and the performances of the key lead roles. Claire Foy is fantastic as The Queen, embracing a role in which she carries the burden of the monarchy on her shoulders in an uncertain world.

We've probably all heard (or even attempted) enough impressions of Her Maj over the years and it'd be easy to have gone with an out-and-out impression of the long-serving monarch. Foy, however, resists this. She captures the right 'voice' and look without straying in caricature. The whole drama rests on the casting, writing and performance of this role - the fact I enjoyed it so much suggests that they got all three aspects just right.

Similar could be said for Matt Smith's Philip. I was surprised to see the former Doctor Who bag this role, but he was able to portray a subtle blend of mischief and frustration that brought the character to life.

In fact, the only role I was disappointed with was John Lithgow's Churchill. If there's one historical character we've seen impressions of more than the Queen then it's Winston and I felt this representation nudged too much toward the stereotype at times. It must've been a hard ask for a New York born actor to handle such a role. It's not awful, it's just noticeably not as good as the rest of the show.

One thing that helps all of the characters is the format of the first series. In 10 episodes, barring flashbacks, we cover the period from Elizabeth and Philip's marriage in 1947 through to the mid 1950s. While there is much ground to cover here, the length of time gives plenty of breathing space for the characters to be fleshed out. There are many dramas and films to have covered this ground before, but it's unlikely that any will have been able to do so with such depth or style.

Speaking of style, it's clear to see that the show's much-vaunted £100 million budget has been put to good use. The episodes are beautifully shot, without exception. The money hasn't gone on flashy effects, it's gone on getting all of the important things right. Looks alone should alert you to the fact that this is something special.

The substance more than matches the style, though. I was also impressed by the way in which writer Peter Morgan knitted the Queen's personal and family drama in with events in the world around her. Churchill political demise, Suez and the smog, intertwine with the abdication, Margaret's relationship and Philip's frustrations. We see how external and internal matters go on to shape the sort of monarch the Queen was to become with lessons on leadership, service and duty laced throughout all ten episodes. We also see a history of Britain through the eyes of the royal family. There's absolutely no need to be a royalist or a history buff to savour this.

None of the characters is a 2D representation of their real-world counterpart. There are things to  admire, respect and understand in most of the protagonists but we're also shown their flaws. I was perhaps only wholly sympathetic with the Queen (goodie two shoes-ness aside) and her father. Philip's petulance, Edward's money-grabbing, Churchill and Eden's politicking, the Queen Mother's scheming and, above all else, the resistance of those in the royal household to change all made for an array of actors who, for various reasons, made life complicated for the young monarch.

All in all, The Crown is a big triumph for Netflix. You feel there will be a bucket load of awards heading its way and you wouldn't begrudge that either. Roll on series two.

What to make of Donald Trump's victory?

Photo: Unsplash

I heard a discussion the other day about Donald Trump's election victory in which his less vocal supporters were referred to as 'silent Trumpers'. There are many things we can teach our friends from across the Pond about our language, but this will help them learn than one shouldn't judge a Trump by its volume, but the smell it leaves afterwards.

Yes, ok, 'fart gags' probably aren't the most adult way to react to recent events in America. It's the best I've got while we all try to make some sense of it all though. The journalist in me wants to understand it now but the historian in me feels it'll be some years before we can thoroughly and objectively determine what has happened.

At the outset, Donald Trump's victory over Hillary Clinton did feel like it could be one of those 'end of an era' moments. Perhaps it was apt on the day, 27 years earlier, that the Berlin Wall had come down, American voters elected someone who had loudly vowed to put one up. Historians love to split up the past into distinct 'eras', with 1789-1914 often seen as the 'long nineteenth century' for example. You might argue that 1914-1945 and 1945-1989, as the world wars and Cold War, marked two more eras (although historians love nothing more than debating definitions at length), but what if 1989-2016 is another? Only with the benefit of hindsight will we know if globalisation and liberalism were truly threatened by Trump and indeed Brexit.

Trump's campaign - and the words belched from his mouth - has been abhorrent. His comments really shouldn't have made him a suitable man to lead his nation and yet, come January, he'll be in the White House. Did people vote in spite of what he said or because they enjoyed hearing a language alien to political discourse? It was surely a bit of both.

In fact, that has been the problem with much of the coverage so far. Too many people have been too absolute in their analysis. Was it really a huge anti-establishment revolution when more people actually voted for Clinton? Why did so many women back Trump? Would Hillary have been looked upon more favourably if she were a man? If the 'rust belt' is supposedly prepared to support racism then why did it vote for Obama? These questions are more suited to someone more well-versed in American politics but they all point to a more complex and confusing picture with the split between rural and urban and old and young all revealing.

Journalist Gaby Hinsliff probably summed it up best with this tweet

New rule not to read anything starting 'Trump's victory proves...' No one theory fits. Begs as many questions as it answers.

— Gaby Hinsliff (@gabyhinsliff) November 10, 2016

Yet the impact has been felt beyond the world of American politics and has touched on two other areas: journalism and social media.

There's an interesting theory that suggests Trump was only able to stand in the first place because he built up momentum with what he said in TV studios. In an increasingly commercial news environment, Trump is a ratings winner. Controversial performers get bookings and are more likely to have a chance to have their say. I'm not sure how, if at all, that can be fixed. It does, though, show that a certain 'style' is likely to stand out and it's not a style that relies on careful reasoning or evidence.

Then there's the polls. For too long the smallest of movements in one direction or another have become a big story when it comes to politics. The debate then centres on the nip and tuck of the polling horse race, rather than the issues. Hopefully now, with so many of the pollsters being caught out by Trump's victory, Brexit and the last General Election, they will be taken with more than a pinch of salt rather than being  - as the New Statesman's Helen Lewis has said - a sugar fix for news outlets.

Social media is under the spotlight too and at last, it seems, the pressure is on Facebook. In recent years this has grown in importance for news outlets who need to publish to their audience on this platform. Yet, with power comes responsibility, and it's high time that Facebook did much more to combat the fact that fake nonsense is given equal weighting to proper journalism.

There's also been a focus on the danger of 'filter bubbles' - the way in which social media can cause us to only see a selection of views within our own narrow friendship and interest groups. I've written before how I think this isn't healthy when it comes to making us all tolerant of others. You might not agree with people who voted for Trump - I certainly don't - but we need to try to understand why they did (I found Amelia Tait's piece on bursting that filter bubble interesting).

Social media is also too much about the 'great take down' and someone 'shutting down' an argument as well as a near-constant state of outrage at what one person has said or done. Sometimes the outrage only serves to get more coverage for the person.

I can't help thinking that Hillary should've followed Michelle Obama's 'when they go low, we go high' mantra a little more. Rather than always attack Trump for what he said - which was what he thrived on - why not focus on his muddled policy platform? Maybe that was half the problem - there seemed very few positive policies to promote from the Clinton camp and so it became a bitter argument won by the man with the loudest voice.

Social media outrage isn't helping and neither is the growing trend of 'no platforming' people because of their beliefs. It's not easy to know what to do - we can't expect people not to be offended at genuinely offensive comments - but there needs to be stronger, clear-headed approach to defeating people through force of argument on all sides of the political spectrum. By refusing to debate with someone, you hand them a moral victory and the chance to appear unfairly treated.

Finally, much has already been made of the parallels with Brexit. It's a very tempting comparison to make, especially for those of us in the UK . One key area in which they were probably similar was in the strength of the core message for the winning side.

PR expert Mike Hind wrote a superb piece after the EU Referendum about the marketing reasons for the success of the Leave side. (It's here if you haven't seen it) I can't help thinking that Trump's 'Make America Great Again' was, like the Leave message, a simple and strong pitch that earned 'gut instinct' votes and cut through all of the personal mud slinging. I'm increasingly starting to think that these gut instincts decide more votes than long manifestos or detailed policy.

Also, just as Brexit turned a complex debate into a basic black and white choice, the US election turned its country's future into a personality contest between two people. Both votes have posed as many questions as they have answers and have left the electorate hopelessly divided.

So, what next? Either Trump will turn back on his boldest promises and upset the supporters he's whipped up into a frenzy or he'll stay true to his word and be awful. For once, I'm hoping this is a case of a politician who lied.

After that train of thought - almost as incoherent at Trump himself - it's time for a lie down. See you in 25 years for a proper historical look at Trump and Brexit? That's if he hasn't pressed the nuclear button before then I suppose...

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.

Searching for a healthy disagreement

It wouldn't do if we were all the same would it? Or so says the cliché. Yet, while I agree that life would be pretty dull if everyone agreed, I also reckon that we're all in danger of suffering from a lack of variety when it comes to views of the world.

Where has this thought come from? Well, it's something that I've been pondering for a while but was sparked further thanks to an aside in a column by John Harris for the New Statesman. In the piece, about Labour losing its traditional heartland, he wrote of what he called the 'John Peel mistake'. He explained:

Circa 1969, the DJ wondered why one of his favourite albums was not in the charts: “Everyone I know’s got a copy,” he said. Back came the reply: “No – you know everyone who’s got a copy.”

Harris uses it when touching on Corbynites who are struggling to fathom why mass rallies won't necessarily result in electoral success yet, for me, it's a neat idea that helps explain a problem.

Photo: Unsplash

Take the EU referendum, for example. After the vote, many people were shocked by the outcome. How could we possibly have voted out? Often people's Facebook timelines had, in the run-up to June 23, been full of people explaining why they were voting Remain. Yet Facebook just lets us see the views of our family and friends. If everyone you know voted Remain it doesn't mean that everyone wanted to Remain, it was just that you don't know the Outers.

Is that a problem? Maybe not, you might think. You're perfectly entitled to be friends with whoever you want and there's nothing wrong with finding companionship with like-minded people, clearly. But, does this all mean that we understand each other a little less?

It's also a particular problem if we choose to get our news from Facebook. Through social media we're not getting the news, we're getting a biased view of the world based on the likes and interest of us and our friends. It all needs consuming with a hearty dose of salt.

This is one of the ways in which online news needs to improve. An old fashioned print publication contains a whole host of articles. Until I buy and flick through one I don't know what I might find interesting. A print paper tells you about conflicts in far flung lands that you weren't aware of, offers you opinion articles from people you don't agree with and covers themes and topics that you wouldn't list as your 'interests' but are interesting nevertheless. I don't know about you but I find it hard to search out the same breadth online and feel my knowledge and understanding of the world has suffers as a result.

Perhaps I'm lazy and need to search out a better reading experience. It is hard though, especially when you are lead to much of what you read online. The trouble is that people are riddled with contradictions. I obsessively follow football so would, you'd presume, be interested in other sports such as Formula One or rugby. That'd certainly be the assumption if you were selling to me. Yet, as it happens, I don't. I like Doctor Who but wouldn't watch most other sci-fi, I haven't seen half of the 'must see films' that most people my age have watched and I'm a bloke with bugger all interest in flash cars. If I'm lead down any of these seemingly natural paths my attention is lost.

I happen to think we should celebrate the ways in which we are different from the norm, not lazily conform to what we're supposed to like. The music charts have, in one way, been diminished as a by-product of streaming. It's all too easy to listen to the existing top 20/50, meaning that those songs get even more plays and stay where they are. I don't want my news to become a similar 'vanilla' assortment of favourites.

I also think we're in danger of letting all this fuel further intolerance of others. It's dangerous to only surround yourself with those who agree with you as it can easily give you an inflated sense of being right. I've increasingly tried to tell myself that there are very few times in which there is a right or wrong answer in life.

If you are certain you're right, you're less likely to want to even hear the view of someone who disagrees - whether that's on something trivial such as music, film or sport or something such as Brexit.

I'm not sure what the answer to all of this is. I can't help thinking that a little healthy disagreement would be a good start though.