Alan Coren (1938–2007)

There are some pieces in here that I remembered fondly and which still resonate with me. Coren had a gifted sense not only for the absurdity of life but for how to show the absurdity even in everyday, taken-for-granted situations. Some pieces in here have, however, not aged well, and while the intro tries to "manage" some of his imperialist and racist attitudes, a couple of his commentaries on other nations. And some of the humor is too much predicated on punching down, for my taste. What show more saves the collection, however, is that Coren's target is just as often himself, and shining through all these pieces is his love of the variety and range and downright strangeness of the English language. show less

In spare moments after lunch for the past couple of months, I've been dipping into the humorist Alan Coren's last book of columns. I can't believe it's over a year since he died, but reading these mini-masterpieces of wit, I can hear his voice, in turns mocking and exasperated, but always with tongue firmly in cheek.

Coren is at his best ranting about his favourite targets - 'elf 'n' safety and bureaucracy, and this collection contains some classics. From why children no longer fall out of show more trees - they're not allowed to climb them, to binge drinking and what abolishing happy hour would do to pub conversation.

There was a great column about celebs moving out of Notting Hill to Primrose Hill. This included a fabulous pun - I quote: " ... Kate, the neighbourhood's rolling Moss who, though she may not as yet have gathered any Stones, has certainly come tumbling down Primrose Hill..."

But I have two real favourites. The first is entitled 'Rhinestones are forever, and is a hilarious cut-price Bond spoof inspired by the announcement that MI5 would be placing job ads in the papers; and the second is about Einstein's depressed parrot. Apparently Einstein called his parrot 'Bibo' and was disappointed that it couldn't learn to say its name - we're informed us that parrots can't say the letter B. Coren's Einstein is no Attenborough and resorts to telling it bad jokes - no wonder it was depressed!

These nuggets were gems to read, and he wrote plenty more - there's a new anthology out for Christmas called Chocolate and Cuckoo Clocks: The Essential Alan Coren. show less

This was a wonderful read, just after I'd finished Alan Plater's "Doggin' Around". Coren's wit and succinct choice of words had me laughing with delight. It's hard to pull out special favourites, though I have marked them in the book, but I'd recommend Idi Amin's car salesman, Richard III's armour and the search for the all-night chemis. This last one I see as a brilliant allegory for what happens if you concentrate on crap at the expense of what really matters - something companies and show more governments are extraordinarily good at doing.

My recommendation once you've read it through once - make it a bathroom book! show less

A few good, laugh-out-loud pieces, but I was mostly pretty underwhelmed by these for some reason. The introduction was in some ways funnier than the rest of it ...