Of all the books I've written about on this blog and in other places, I have to admit that this Hornbyesque literary masterpiece (and soon to be movie) is very close to my heart. It tells the tale of a agregious British writer who never really fits the Vanity Fair mold, so instead he writes a halarious tell-all about his boss. I read this book in 2002 twice, then I read Toby Young's sequal, The Sound of No Hands Clapping. Bottom line: this is a great read, and therefore great gift for anyone that's a fan of Vanity Fair and a little Graydon Carter gossip—plus the poppy cover with its clever slogan will look fun on your side table...what's even more fun is taking it to the gym and holding it up to your face as you scoot along on the stationary bike while people give you strange looks (I know from experience). Get it here.
Dec 4, 2006