I enjoyed this. Like any ex-pat, the author isn't always consistant about whether or not she enjoys living in the UK. Neither praising all the time, or always finding fault, but commenting on the sorts of things that outsiders notice.

Loved the hedgehog chapter, but then, I love hedgehogs. ( )

some funny interesting facets of british culture, but not good enough to buy - i can't believe there was an entire chapter devoted to hedgehogs ( )

The first thing you have to understand when you pick up a book like this, is that it is not a serious work of anthropology any more than are similar books by Bill Bryson et al. It is simply one person's (hopefully humorous) take on a country they are gradually coming to know and, as such, I don't really think it should be treated quite as 'sniffily' as it has been by one or two reviewers.

The main problem with this book could have been corrected by a bit of judicious editing in removing the first chapter (largely addressing the vicissitudes of the ruling classes) and repositioning it further back in the book. By being the first chapter it rather gives the impression that all the English (and, despite its title, the book is at least 99% about the English, NOT the British) are champagne-snorting, weak-chinned owners of country estates (if only). Maybe the author just married into this class and thinks they are the normal ones whereas, in truth, they actually make up such a tiny minority of the English as to be as much of a puzzle to the rest of us as they are to her. If Lyall spent less time hanging around the House of Lords and her friends' country 'piles' and more time talking to ordinary people I suspect this chapter would have been nothing more than an amusing sideline halfway through the book.

But, after 50-something years of living in England, I had quite a struggle finding anything particularly offensive in the rest of the book. In fact, by the end, Lyall seems to be taking a wry look at some of the 'modern' characteristics, like the wave of post-Diana grief that shook the nation, and that -frankly - baffle most of us as much as they baffle her.

Many of the things Lyall complains about (if such a strong word as 'complain' can really be used) are the attitudes that have crept across the ocean from her native America (the recent love of litigation is one good example) and while she stands bewildered, wringing her hands and wondering 'wouldn't life have been better without this?' she fails to notice the majority of the country wringing their hands beside her.

And we can still get our own back. One bit that really made me laugh was Lyall's incredulousness (in a chapter about some of our 'heroes' which is written with much more affectionate admiration than any other quality) about the fact Scott's tragic North Pole expedition ended in the explorers' deaths "just eleven miles from a depot of food supplies"! Maybe she doesn't realise just how far eleven miles would be in zub-zub-zero temperatures, in a snowstorm, on foot, dragging equipment, for half-starved, half-dead men. Maybe, being American, she thought they could have jumped aboard a passing yellow cab?

This kind of book should never be read without a sense of humour (with a 'u'!). Surely one of our best attributes is having the ability to laugh at ourselves? I won't say I rolled around the floor but I certainly managed a chuckle here and there. And she's dead right about the weather. ( )

I requested this book from the library so long ago that I had forgotten about it; it ended up being a pleasant surprise. The author is an American who married a British man and relocates to England; her book reflects an American's culture shock at various British peculiarities and is arranged in chapters loosely focused on a number of subjects: sex, food, class, the House of Commons, the House of Lords, weather, the British penchant for putting oneself down, terrible customer service, cricket, etc. Actual Brits could probably find much to quibble with, just as an American could object to any number of a series of stereotypes a foreigner might note about us, but the book is quite humorous.

Lyall arrived in England in the 1990s, which she identifies as a time when many English institutions and cultural norms were undergoing changes. The House of Commons was "welcoming" increasing numbers of women, the House of Lords was under attack by reformers who questioned its purpose in the modern era, economic growth was bringing new attitudes about consumption and money, and even the rules of cricket were changing in order to attract younger, hipper fans. Since I'm not familiar with British social history in the 20th century, I'm not really in a position to judge whether Lyall's history is accurate here - one could probably argue that she's overstating the extent of these changes. I did wonder at her characterization of pre-1990s London as basically a provincial town. But I think the focus on changing culture helped the book to be more than just a series of eternal stereotypes about the nature of the British.

I particularly loved the sections relating to public transportation issues in Britain - the author catalogs some of the more ridiculous official reasons she's heard as to why trains are delayed or simply cancelled, including "dew on the rails" and "a leaf on the rails". These stories are certainly not unique to British public transportation & can be appreciated by anyone who's ever had to deal with a subway on a daily basis.

Also great were the oddities of the House of Lords & the number of Lords who appear to have had a serious obsession with UFOs & other related phenomena. In arguing for the existence of the Loch Ness Monster and others, one of the Lords makes an analogy to cookie baking, saying that just as mothers set aside dough for their children to make odd shaped bits of their own, perhaps God gave the angels a bit of the essence of life to play with & the angels in turn created goofy little monsters like Bigfoot and yetis. I love it! I now believe in Bigfoot because this explanation is just so cute! ( )

Yet another jaundiced American look at so-called British life and views, although it should perhaps be better titled as ' A field guide to Posh South of England life ' and not just posh we are talking serious toffs here. It doesn't go North of Watford except when discussing Royalty (Charles at Gordonston (?sp?)). Books of this genre are supposed to be funny and ironic but this doesn't succeed at being either other than in short bursts and reads as if she really means it.
Has been much better done by others. ( )