Let’s face it, Jeremy Clarkson is the king of foot in mouth. He’s the prince of digging himself a hole and then jaunting off to get a JCB to dig himself in just a little deeper. He’s like many men of ‘a certain age’ throughout Britain – opinionated, but not necessarily always right and very rarely politically correct.
This book, which is basically an anthology of his Sunday Times columns, proves this point to a tee. Clarkson takes on topics including new-build properties encroaching on his precious countryside, the lottery and how he is a complete failure at anything of a green-fingered nature. Sure, it’s an easy read, and it’s amusing enough, but I guess I expected it to be funnier. There were a few times when I expelled air, or tutted in amusement, but actual laugh out loud moments were few and far between.
Mr Clarkson does have an excellent writing style, his prose sounds like him, it’s short, it’s punchy and he manages to convey a whole argument into not very many words at all, but it’s just not that amazing. Flicking through the book to write this review, I’m struggling to remember what some of the pieces were even about. And I guess that, again, makes him like those other men of ‘a certain age’ – caustically opinionated, but thankfully forgettable.
Passes the time, but not going to change you life.
Fabulous rating: 2.5/5