Daniel

Having had family working with the railways in British India, I picked up Railways and The Raj hoping for a full history of the railways in India and its successors (Pakistan and the like) including a deep insight into the lives of the peoples who worked and travelled upon it. Wolmar's book is certainly a social history, but more of a social history of India and how the railways impacted it. So broad is this approach that what feel like major areas - the railways and the protection of India from the Japanese in the Second World War - really could be their own books.

Still, such an approach needn't make the book one of any less merit. Wolmar does a good job of setting out the development of Indian railways, but he often does it from his personal point of view that, at least for the railways, the ‘British are bad' and that racism underpinned a lot of the decisions taken as to the development of those railways. Sometimes he provides primary sources proving racism, other times he breezily states a decision was arrived at because of racism yet fails to provide evidence that was the truly case. Owing to Wolmar's own bias (and the argument he sets out to prove) he leaves little room for the exploration of ideas contrary to racism: were some developments and actions the result of bigotry, mere capitalism, outright greed or, mayhap, ignorance? Or were they just poor decisions? To err is to human.

A historian typically shouldn't judge actions of the past through a modern lens - we would loathe the Ancient Greeks if we were to judge them by 21st century standards - and yet Wolmar often can't help himself but do just that when it comes to Imperial Britain. And it's a pity, because he leaves a lot on the table even within his narrow concept of railways and racism. For instance, how many decisions were arrived at because of the problems inherent in the biases and bigotry within British India's own social constructs of not just white vs. the rest, but the caste system? We all have an understanding of how the class system has impacted Britain, in Railways and The Raj Wolmar lays out how the class system impacted the railways (typically, and even when wrong, labelling that class system as racism instead of classism) but when it comes to the bigotry of a caste system his social history is left wanting and the reader little the wiser. Which is a pity because an exploration of such an area would likely have added something not just to the readers' understanding of railways but also their understanding of Empire.

Read during the midst of Russia's invasion of Ukraine, Shadow State seems rather prescient. A tour through Russia's influence upon Trump and the United States in particular, Shadow State is no doubt already in need of a re-issue with additional chapters. Much is given to Trump and the Steele dossier: both yesterday's news. More could have been said about the Kremlin's influence on the Brexit vote. Ukraine's Zelensky gets an all too brief mention; Harding could never have imagined the force with which Zelensky would enter the zeitgeist, nor the success Ukraine would have in holding Russia at bay.

There's much more for Harding to write in an updated edition. But this is a brilliant foundation and starting point if you'd like a good overview of just how we got here.

By a one-time quirk of Canada's copyright laws we have "Licence Expired", a series of James Bond short stories which, without the guidance of Ian Fleming's estate, has allowed a series of authors to explore elements of Bond's world without the typical confines. Some took the opportunity to explore Bond's retirement years, while another introduced Bond to the world of science-fiction; like Fleming's own "The Spy Who Loved Me", it doesn't always work. There are some charming entries here; Catherine MacLeod's "Sorrow's Spy" amongst the best. Definitely one to pick up for literary Bond enthusiasts (if they can find a copy floating about).

At the close of this story Harffy gives thanks and acknowledgments to many including the moderator of a Bernard Cornwell fan club. While the thanks is no doubt deserved, it is a strong indicator of just whom will enjoy this novel and the coming series. If you have enjoyed Cornwell's stories of the adventures of Uhtred of Bebbanburg then there is little chance that you wouldn't also enjoy Harffy's story here. Wolf of Wessex is set in a similar period, though precedes the time of Alfred of Wessex, and is written with a similar ease, pacing, and sense of Anglo Saxons called to adventure.

An all too-short, or mayhap perfectly paced, journey through an ordinary life in a time now lost to us. Its age - published in 1934 - gives it a dated charm as it refers the “90s” while referring to the 1890s. But its social commentary on change, on how generations both leave each other behind while journeying forward together, remains as relevant as ever.

A fantastic memoir spread over some 30 different stories from David Cornwell's life. If you ever doubted the quality of Cornwell's prose, his ability to turn a phrase or illustrate a scene so well you imagine yourself there, this collection of stories will leave you with no disbelief in the fact that he was one of Britain's best 20c/21c writers.

Instead of focussing solely on Philby and attempting to argue the traitor's psychology, Macintyre weaves a story of Philby and the ‘friends' (it seems unlikely that Philby's narcissism allowed him to view anyone as a friend) whom he cheated and betrayed in the name of the Soviet despots. Focussing thus makes the story all the more interesting. We'll never know the full extent of Philby's betrayal, but we do get to learn of some of the close relationships he ruined thus telling more of a story of the man than the countless numbers he sent to their deaths.