Yet, in those last months, he constructed a number of powerful, moving essays, mostly about his life, now collected in The Memory Chalet. The title refers to the technique Judt employed for remembering the essays as he composed them in his head at night. Using his childhood memories of a Swiss chalet, he used the memory palace technique in order to order his thoughts, to then dictate them the next day.

I read a fair few of the essays as they were published in the New York Review, but having them all collated in one volume is far more satisfying. Judt’s story, although still episodic, appears more complete.

Judt was an amazing writer, in that he was equal parts inspiring, informative and accessible. The latter is a key quality for me. Here was an intellectual who had the clarity of thought and the accuracy of phrase to present his thoughts, theories and memories. Intellectual thought should be available to all, it should not be hidden or coded to the extent that only other ‘intellectuals’ can unpick it. The message, whatever it may be, is all the more powerful for how well it is delivered.

Of course, this is where I’m already slipping up, as I seem to have drifted off in this review, so forgive me. But something else about Judt’s writing, as stated above, is that inspires. For me, it inspires me to try to be a better writer, and to try to engage more with intellectual thought. While I doubt I’ll be scratching my goatee whilst discussing philosophy anytime soon, I can always do more thinking and engage more in others’ thinking too. There is a lot to learn out there, and a lot to understand. How can I better engage with what is meaningful in the world?

In many ways, it is a simple memoir. Judt’s essays offer snapshots of his life at various points. The reader pieces together Judt’s life story, and his outlook on life, amid tales of austerity in London in the 1950s, the free-thinking and opportunity of the 1960s, and the reaction to such thinking in later years. The essays are personal, human and funny. Judt was a public intellectual, but he also comes across as a great bloke too.

It is a shame that public intellectuals are now few and far between. Where are the people to help us make sense of the world, to guide us, to question us, to infuriate us? Hopefully this book will help make such a role appear important again. Or maybe it will just help me hunt such people out.

If nothing else, this book shows that everyone’s story is valid, interesting and even entertaining, if presented well. Telling our own stories is something we can all strive for, and perhaps we needn’t wait until our last days to share those stories? Perhaps that is why we blog – as deep down amid our amateur writer/blogger/whatever insecurities we know that it is worthwhile to get our voice and our stories out there. We know that sharing our thoughts need not be purely an exercise in navel-gazing.

In terms of football, there is the continued soap opera concerning Liverpool’s ownership, while last night’s international games saw an incredibly underwhelming performance from England, and some shocking scenes in the Italy/Serbia game, as Serbian hooligans managed to get the game abandoned after only a few minutes.

In terms of baseball, the play-offs have been very entertaining, and the World Series draws ever closer.

In music, I’m growing to love the new Deerhunter album, the new Walkmen LP is great, as expected, and I’m even warming to Belle & Sebastian’s latest effort.

Reading-wise, I’m still ploughing through The Corrections, and have read some great pieces in a recent New York Review of Books. The Guardian’s books coverage has been reliably excellent too.

Meanwhile, wedding plans are progressing very nicely!

So there you have it, a fair round-up of my interests/activities over the past couple of weeks, and a veritable bounty of potential blog ‘content’. Egh. ‘Content’ is a horrible word in that sense, isn’t it?

However, I will plead the scoundrel’s excuse of lack of time for these matters. Of course, I could make the time, and perhaps I will, but other matters both trivial and less so, have governed my time of late. Plus, with so many of these things, it takes time for me to sift through and make sense of what I want to say. So, instead, a little tale for you.

Yesterday lunchtime I found myself in a big old church, close to my work, listening to an organ recital. This is entirely out-of-character. I dabble in classical music, and it is probably fair to say I dabble in religion too, but I’d never been to an event like this before. But, it was free, and it seemed like a nice alternative to fighting the hoards in food outlets/shopping/sitting in a coffee shop with an overpriced beverage/sitting at desk staring at screen.

I’d brought something to read and something to eat, but upon arrival it was clear that the audience were there to listen, and just listen. This turned out to be a great idea, and a real blessing. Instead of trying to multi-task (and inevitably not giving anything my full attention), I instead sat back, let the music pour over me, marvelled at the architecture, and let myself think.

It was wonderful to have this time out, and to allow myself some space, rather than try to pile several different things in my head at once. I left feeling refreshed and uplifted. What could have been a rather odd experience was in fact really rather moving.

Of course, I stepped back out into a world full of books and sport and music and food and fun. And I love that world. It was just wonderful and worthwhile taking a proper break and letting myself breathe a little.

I can’t see me giving up my multi-tasking addiction just yet, with its beautiful inefficiency, but it was good to have a reminder of the benefit of stepping away from information overload, if just for a lunchtime. This world has so much good stuff I want to hoover up, yet I also need to remember to stop and collect my thoughts once in a while.

Image from Kevin Dooley via Flickr

Or maybe it is just a phase. I do always read. A lot. But the medium isn’t always the same. Sometimes I just have to read a newspaper every day. Other times I realise I get most of my news online (although it’s not the same), or find my brain rotting from reading the free newspapers handed out in London and decide enough is enough.

Other times I’m all over magazines and, for want of a better word, journals. There is some fantastic magazine design out there – Wire magazine, in particular, and the late, lamented Plan B. There’s also some genuinely great writing hiding away in your old periodicals. The New Yorker is always a wonderful, informative and luxurious read. The New York Review of Books is similarly brain-nourishing. But it’s not all about mags from the Big Apple – how about When Saturday Comes and World Soccer, for pretty much peerless football coverage? Or Private Eye, still great after all these years?

But then, after a while, I realise that as immediate and bite-sized and shiny as magazines are, it is a good book that I really crave. A book that demands to be read, to be devoured. The sort of book that leaves you with a sense of loss when it’s over, because you just can’t read it anymore, that the story of those characters (real or imagined) has now finished.

And in an age of iPhones, iPads and all that jazz, and working in a role that falls directly under the banner of, ahem, ‘new media’, it’s interesting to me that all of this ‘old media’ still brings so much joy. These print formats are still vital to me. There is nothing quite like the feel, touch, smell, experience of books, magazines and newspapers.

Don’t get me wrong, I love computers and would be lost without the internet. But nothing will replace flicking through a newspaper in a pub, or a magazine in the garden on a sunny day, or an old book, curled up indoors on a winter’s night. Long may these simple pleasures last.

Image from Jasoon via Flickr

We think in generalities, but we live in detail.

Alfred North Whitehead
English mathematician & philosopher (1861 – 1947)

The web and the wider world are full of ‘best of’ lists, looking back at the past year and indeed the last decade. However, I thought I didn’t have a whole lot worth adding to the more general debates, such as best albums, best films, best sportsmen and women. Does the world really need another end of year/decade review?

So…instead I’ve decided to compile a list of some ‘little’ things I’ve enjoyed this year. Maybe this will offer a tiny insight into my world, and hopefully prompt some thought on those little things in life that make the world a more enjoyable place. Life is all in the details.

1. The seaside

This year I’ve been to the seaside several times with my Significant Other, and had a wonderful time on every occasion. In the UK we’re really lucky in that you are never that far from the sea. Maybe there is some primal pull, but more likely it’s great to regress to being a kid again, with ice creams, crazy golf, dashing around the arcades, skimming stones and fish and chips on the beach. We realised that we can jump on a train and in an hour or so effectively be on holiday, if only for the day. A great way to ‘get away from it all’, and cheap too!

2. Actually going to the football

I used to go to games all the time years ago, but I think following a team week-in, week-out is probably a young man’s game. Saying that, there’s nothing to stop me going to see a match from time to time, and I’ve got back into that this year, again accompanied by my ever-supportive Significant Other. We live close to Charlton Athletic, who late last season started giving tickets away as they hurtled towards relegation. This season has been far better for them, and popping down the other week on a whim and catching a game was a lot of fun.

3. Piccolo coffee

I was never a big coffee drinker. But this year I’ve fallen for the trendy coffee brigade’s fancy drinks. A piccolo is kind of like a very strong, yet miniature, latte, essentially an espresso topped up with a little milk. I’ll often grab one from a little coffee stall near work, generally at lunchtime, to kickstart my afternoon. It is absolutely delicious, and a welcome change from the luke-warm, sugary, whipped cream abominations from the big chains. I’m on course to become a coffee snob!

4. Scoring baseball

More to come on this soon, folks, I promise. But generally speaking, I had real fun following this year’s MLB season. Even though the Mets were beyond rubbish.

5. Staying in on a Saturday night

I used to get rather jittery staying in on a Saturday night, worried I was at home while everyone else was out having fun. No more. I think I’ve finally hit full-fledged Grumpy Old Man mode, and so can’t abide jostling crowds and overpriced drinks in trendy bars, or nightbuses home from dingy nightclubs. Also, I’ve loved spending some time with my Significant Other, a takeaway and some crap telly. Strictly Come Dancing, X Factor, Match of the Day, bed. I never thought this would be my idea of bliss!

6. Spicy chilli peanuts

My snack food of the year. I’ve bought a big tub of them for Christmas, and can’t see it lasting long. Plus, I can kid myself that peanuts are a healthier option.

7. Cain’s Mild

My drink of the year. A classic beer from a Liverpudlian brewery. Full of flavour, but low in alcohol, so I can drink plenty of it without falling over. Coveting a can of mild, again, suggests I am now truly an old man, in heart, mind and increasingly in body. This is not a bad thing. I think I’m actually growing into myself.

8. The New York Review of Books

On the surface, this is a periodical with a load of book reviews. But really, they are just a launchpad for articles on much wider issues, so an issue might throw up some interesting perspectives on all manner of things – the fall of the Berlin Wall, Theodore Roosevelt’s environmentalism, the new ballparks in New York, prison reform, schooling…you name it. It is refreshing to see such a wide range of issues covered, and for writers to be given the room to cover them in sufficient depth. Plus, it makes me feel a bit cleverer for reading it.

9. QI

It’s bloody brilliant, isn’t it? And like number 8 above, I feel a bit cleverer for watching it. You can never have enough trivia stuffed in your brain, as far as I’m concerned.

10. Listening to Christmas songs

I love Christmas songs. Big Rock Candy Mountain feeds my addiction with some weird and wonderful efforts, but I’m just as happy with the more mainstream fare. Phil Spector’s Christmas album is probably one of the best (not just Christmas) albums ever. Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You is my number one guilty pleasure. To me, that song is perfect. It’s a shame that in just a few days I won’t be listening to these songs for another year…

So, what little things made your 2009 a good one? I’d love to hear about whatever helped make your year.

Photo from kevindooley, via Flickr