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Bill Bryson - which book to read first?


rosegarden

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I have only read one of his - it was the one where he goes round Britain.

Thought that was very funny.

Do you mean Notes from a Small Island? If so, yes it's very funny in parts. What tickled me was the way he talked about how enthusiastic we are when offered a cup of tea :). And it's so true......or is that just me :D

 

Carole

:)

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Do you mean Notes from a Small Island? If so, yes it's very funny in parts. What tickled me was the way he talked about how enthusiastic we are when offered a cup of tea :). And it's so true......or is that just me :D

I guess that largely depends upon whether you like tea or not - I wouldn't be at all enthusiastic about being offered tea! :)

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A passage from 'Down Under' or 'A Sunburned Country', Bill Bryson's book about Australia, that had me in stitches. Some kind people were giving him a guided tour in their car when he fell asleep.

 

 

Quote:

I am not, I regret to say, a discreet and fetching sleeper. Most people when they nod off look as if they could do with a blanket; I look as if I could do with medical attention. I sleep as if injected with a powerful experimental muscle relaxant. My legs fall open in a grotesque come-hither manner; my knuckles brush the floor. Whatever is inside -- tongue, uvula, moist bubbles of intestinal air -- decides to leak out. From time to time, like one of those nodding-duck toys, my head tips forward to empty a quart or so of viscous drool onto my lap, then falls back to begin loading again with a noise like a toilet cistern filling. And I snore, hugely and helplessly, like a cartoon character, with rubbery flapping lips and prolonged steam-valve exhalations. For long periods I grow unnaturally still, in a way that inclines onlookers to exchange glances and lean forward in concern, then dramatically I stiffen and, after a tantalizing pause, begin to bounce and jostle in a series of whole-body spasms of the sort that bring to mind an electric chair when the switch is thrown. Then I shriek once or twice in a piercing and effeminate manner and wake up to find that all motion within five hundred feet has stopped and all children under eight are clutching their mothers' hems. It's a terrible burden to bear.

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  • 2 years later...

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