The first part of The Bartimaeus Trilogy, “The Amulet of Samarkand” is set in a mostly recognisable London – admittedly, with a few noticeable changes. The Tower of London is still a feared prison and the Empire (which still exists) is at war with the Czech Republic. Magicians are the ruling class, holding all positions of power, while the non-magical human masses are referred to as commoners. These magicians derive their power from their ability to summon and control a variety of demons – for example, afrits, djinn and imps.

The book begins with the first summoning of a djinn called Bartimaeus by a magician’s apprentice called Nathaniel. Nathaniel orders the Bartimaeus to steal the Amulet of Samarkand from a very powerful magician and minister called Simon Lovelace. One thing leads to another and, sooner than you can say “N’gorso the Mighty”, there’s murder, mystery and mayhem – with the added bonus of some young and mysterious human revolutionaries. Needless to say, Lovelace is at the heart of the wrongdoing and the Amulet is clearly at the crux of his dastardly plans.

Nathaniel and Bartimaeus are the story’s central characters and the focus of the story alternates back and forth between them. Stroud has taken an interesting approach – he writes Nathaniel’s story (“Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed”), but the djinni tells his own (“I sat on the ground cross-legged”). Bartimaeus, for me, is the star of the show – the parts of the book that focus on him are among the funniest I’ve read in a long time. Caustic, sardonic, irreverent and hopelessly vain, he spends much of the book hoping to betray his master and plotting his downfall. The footnotes included in his sections also allow him to explain certain things or wander slightly off-topic.

Very funny and very enjoyable !

The story begins in late 1997 and follows the story of Veronika – a twenty four year old woman living in Slovenia. The book begins with her attempted suicide : however, having overdosed on tranquilisers, she is discovered in time and taken to hospital before she dies. The hospital in question is Vilette – a well known asylum in Ljubljana. Although she has survived, she is told – due to the damage the tranquilisers have done to her heart – she only has about a week to live. Having always kept herself firmly under control, Veronika finds herself broadening her range of experiences and feelings, and gradually comes to see her life as something worth living. Her arrival in Vilette also has an impact on some of the asylum’s other patients – specifically, Eduard (a schizophrenic), Zedka (who suffers from depression) and Mari (who suffers from panic attacks).

This is an absolutely awful book : rather than “beautiful”, “poetic” or “inspiring”, I’ve never found writing so bland. Despite her situation, Coelho finds himself incapable of establishing any empathy with or sympathy for Veronika. In fact, I even think he wrote about the wrong character – Zedka’s story, in the hands of an author up to the task, is a story I’d rather have heard. Coelho’s decision to include himself in the story stank of ego, and the way that he wrote that section (“Paulo Coelho wanted to know all the details of what had happened” rather than “I wanted to know all the details of what had happened”) was incredibly irritating. The only apparent hobby the patients had – a solitary pastime known to some as ‘merchant banking’ – was given too high a profile : Veronika’s activities on this front were irrelevant and did nothing to help the story. Coelho may be writing this book based on experience – he has spent some time in an asylum as a patient. His parents, apparently, had him locked up when he decided to become an artist. Well, if his paintings were as bad as his books…

Recorded live in November 1987 at Church of the Holy Trinity in Toronto (and hence “The Trinity Session”), this was the Cowboy Junkies’ second album. The track listing is made up of a number of self-penned tunes, a couple of traditional songs and a few cover versions. I never would have thought it possible that songs by Lou Reed and Hank Williams could appear on the same album without sounding at odds with each other…yet that is exactly what the band have achieved.

There are so many outstanding tracks on this CD it’s hard to pick out the highlights. The two traditional tunes – “Mining for Gold” and “Working on a Building” – would certainly be among my favourites. “Mining for Gold” opens the album, and is sung unaccompanied by Margo.

It was “Blue Moon Revisited” that first brought the band to my attention…it’s a beautifully laid back number with a hint of sadness and regret. “Sweet Jane”, written by Lou Reed, has been referred to as the band’s signature tune. Alan’s bass, again, contributes greatly to the mood on both songs.

Of the songs written solely by members of the bands, “Postcard Blues” and “Misguided Angel” are, for me, the best. A guest musician, Steve Shearer, provides the harmonica on the former – a contribution that allows the song to live up to its name.

The album was captured live, using a single microphone and cost only CDN $250 to record. It’s also a great example of how keeping production work to a minimum can, at times, help the album. Admittedly, the quality of the songwriting, the playing and the singing is also a big help !

This is easily one of the most enjoyable films I’ve ever seen. It’s set in one of the world’s most beautiful cities and featuring a collection of quirky and / or likeable characters : Georgette (quite possibly the definitive hypochondriac), Raymond Dufayel (who is obsessed with Renoir’s “Luncheon of the Boating Party” and never leaves his apartment), Joseph (who takes jealousy to a whole new level)...and, of course, Amelie herself – an imaginative romantic. It’s filmed in French and subtitled, which might put some people off – for me, however, the subtitles actually seem to add to the film’s enjoyment.

Preferably still bleeding….mmmmmmmmmmm…...

“Canal Dreams” tells the story of Hisako Onoda, a world-famous cellist. As the book opens, Hisako is en-route from Japan to Europe, where she’s due to perform in a series of concerts. However, as she’s terrified of flying, she’s making the journey by boat. Having travelled to Honolulu on the Gassam Maru, she then boarded the Nakodo – which was due to take her to Rotterdam via the Panama Canal. Unfortunately, due to ‘civil unrest’ in the region – armed conflict between guerrilla fighters and government forces – the canal has been closed. For the moment, the Nakodo and two other ships are essentially trapped on Gatún Lake. Although they are hoping for the all-clear to continue their journey soon, the conflict is, unfortunately, coming closer.

There are elements of a thriller to “Canal Dreams”, but the strength of the book lies in telling Hisako’s story. She is a very well-developed character, though her past in only gradually given away – the book jumps backwards and forwards, looking at some of the key events of Hisako’s life. Hisako’s travelling companions aren’t so well developed, and little is told of their lives, thoughts or motivations. However, as “Canal Dreams” doesn’t set out to tell their stories this really isn’t a problem – and I would absolutely recommend this book.

All eleven songs on “Kitty Jay” were inspired by and written about the legends and stories of Dartmoor, where Seth grew up and still lives. It’s very difficult to pick out any highlights, as the album is consistently excellent – but I’m going to mention the three trad tunes anyway. One of them, “Cape Clear”, is a gentle, nearly mournful, number and is the album’s only instrumental. The other two, “Henry Clark”, and “John Lomas” – the album’s opening track – are also excellent, if somewhat different in mood. (The album’s closing track, “The Streamers”, is based on another trad tune called “The Streams if Lovely Nancy”). Of all the songs on the album, it’s possibly one of Seth’s own – “Farewell My Love” – that comes closest to what the ‘popular’ view of a trad song may be. The album’s title track, meanwhile, features some great violin playing – it almost sounds like Seth may have spent a little too much time alone with a pot of coffee.

Although Kitty Jay sits firmly in the folk / trad category, it still caught me a little off-guard. (Anyone, for the record, expecting bearded old men wearing woolly jumpers drinking from tankards in smoky dark inns will also be a little confused). Given his ‘role’ in Equation, I’d only ever seen Seth as a fiddler and had expected an album full of instrumentals, rather than just the one instrumental track. (The violin, though, does prove to be the album’s ‘lead’ instrument). Although Kathryn Roberts guests on “The Ballad of Josie”, it’s Seth who provides the lead vocals throughout and – at the risk of stating the obvious – he does a great job.

The Crow Road’s central character is a young Scot called Prentice McHoan. A Star Wars fan as a boy, he’s given up his attempts to master the force and now studies history at university in Glasgow. It would be fair to say, however, that he has more interest in alcohol, drugs and sex in general and the beautiful Verity Walker in particular. Prentice’s key relationship, however, is probably the one he has (or, more accurately, doesn’t have) with his father, Kenneth. Rather than Glasgow, most of the story takes place in and around his home village of Gallanach – visits home are fairly regular for various parties and funerals. Most of the supporting cast is made up of his own family, the Urvills and the Watts (friends to the McHoans over several generations).

Due to a falling out with Kenneth, Prentice usually stays with his Uncle Hamish when he comes back to Gallanach – the rift between Kenneth and Prentice being caused by a difference of opinion over religion. However, not only is Uncle Hamish certain there is a God, he’s also invented his own faith. Another uncle, Rory, an author and television presenter, hasn’t been seen in 8 years – some believe him to be dead. Prentice, meanwhile, has a suspicion he’s still alive while Kenneth seems strangely sure of it. The curiosity about where he is and what has happened to him simmers in the background until Prentice tries to find out what really happened to him.

The sections of the book that focus on Prentice are told from his point of view (“when I started to understand the lyrics of a Cocteau Twins song, I knew I was wrecked”). The remainder is told in ‘flashback’, about various different family members, and is written about them (“It was the last time Kenneth ever saw Rory”). I found it a little strange to begin with, but – once used to it – I found it really added to the enjoyment of the book. I’d look on it as less of a story, and more of a book about a group of people that strange and / or funny things happen to. That may sound a little strange, but it’s comfortably one of the best books I’ve ever read.

A former All-Ireland Singing Champion this is Cara’s first solo album – although she had previously released albums as part of the bands Oige and Equation.

All but three of the eleven songs on the album are traditional and – for me – it’s trad songs I prefer. The album starts with what I’d consider to be the best – “Black is the Colour” and “Donald of Glencoe”. However, the rest of the album is far from disappointing – the remaining tracks are all very good and would be the highlights of many other albums. “She’s Like the Swallow” especially deserves an honourable mention. Like the rest of the album, it’s beautifully played sung – it also has the benefit of not being a straightforward love song !

Cara won a number of awards on the back of this album – at the Hot Press Awards for “Best Roots Act”, the BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards (including “Best Traditional Track” for “Black is the Colour”) and Big Buzz Irish Entertainment Award for “Best Traditional Act 2003”. She has since released two further albums but, in all honesty, neither one is quite as good as this – it sounds like she’s trying to move away from the trad arena. (A newspaper review of her third album described one of the songs as Cara’s attempt to ‘sound like a girl band refugee’. Whoever came up with that idea has her moving in entirely the wrong direction).

“The Alchemist” tells the story of Santiago, a native of Andalusia. He had trained, briefly, for the priesthood though had always been keen to travel. As a result, he left the seminary and – since the only Andalusians who travelled were shepherds – bought some sheep. As the story begins, he has just arrived – aptly enooough – at an abandoned church where he is planning to shelter for the night. That night, for the second time in about a week, he dreams of being taken to the Pyramids by a girl. There, she promises him a hidden treasuer if he comes to the Pyramids when awake. Although he has his dream interpreted in a nearby town, he only decides to follow his dream following a conversation with a man who calims to be the King of Salem.

“The Alchemist” is a very short, pleasant, easily-read book and has a message I’d really love to believe : everyone has a single goal in life (even if we don’t realise it) and that the Earth itself wants us to be happy. Maybe I’ve just become too cynical over the years, but I couldn’t honestly describe it as anything other then fluff – very likeable fluff, admittedly, but utterly detached from reality. The one person who is getting most from this book is Coelho himself : he hasn’t needed to turn lead into gold, he’s made his fortune telling people to chase their dreams and to follow the right omens.