The Golden Compass.

And enjoyed it. I'm anybody's for a good airship--why do we still love airships? Maybe it's because we miss the ineffable luxury of being compelled to travel slowly*--and, possibly since I haven't yet read the books, I didn't mind one bit that they left out the Big Damn Message. The only thing that concerns me is whether this film will do well enough to keep them on track with the sequels. Boom's got to end some time. Or, as Ivanova did not say, probably wisely, there's always a bust tomorrow.

*This, of course, needs explaining. I'm not talking about being trapped in a traffic jam here--the whole infuriating thing about travel nowadays is that we expect and are expected to go faster and faster, get there sooner and sooner, and traffic jams and road works and such like prevent us from fulfilling that expectation. With airships and steam trains and similar outmoded forms of transport, the perception is that that expectation is removed--you go at the speed of the vehicle, and nobody expects you to get there any sooner than it can. There's a relief and a charm in that, I think.

...which might appeal to some of my friends. It's called the Gospel Of The Second Coming, the authors' names are Freke and Gandy, and it's apparently a follow-up to several more serious works in which they disprove the existence of the historical Jesus. Since the world has signally failed, in the wake of these other volumes, to abandon the false doctrine of Literalist Christianity, they seem to have decided to have another go, and this time play it for laughs.

Unfortunately, within the first few pages they manage to come across as smug gits of the first water, with many a gleeful gibe at "people who don't think" and "people who have no sense of humour," i.e. the ordinary religious person. You all know how I feel about that kind of thing. The fact that they also can't write dialogue, don't know what a joke is, and have sadly fallen victim to what one might call Atheling's Syndrome*--the reflexive and obsessive avoidance of the word "said"--just adds that little extra fillip of irritation to a book that was already going to be irritating enough.

The book was remaindered at £3.99 in Superbookdeals in Trowbridge. If you're interested, it's a hardback with a bright orange cover and a matching cloth bookmark, and is printed in a nice readable font of a size that even the Countess could manage. Shame really. I know of dozens of better books that would have benefited from that kind of treatment.

Guess I'll be reading something else.

*Named, of course, for the critic who identified it, rather than the first sufferer, who is probably lost in the mists of Tim.