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(Nicola Moorby, Yale University Press, £25)
One for your colleagues, perhaps: art, art history, ploitics with a small ‘p’.
I submitted my review of this book to Teach Secondary magazine, an educational magazine in the UK. The first review below is what the magazine published. The second one is what I actually wrote! In substantive terms there is little difference between the two, but you may find it interesting to see what the editor altered.
The published version
Before reading this book I had little interest in Turner's art, but a great appreciation for Constable's. Reading about both artists placed side-by-side, as they are here, has been a real eye-opener.
Through Moorby's engaging prose we learn about the very different circumstances into which they were born, as well as their very different personalities. Turner was a poor boy who, according to some contemporaries, had ideas above his station - a direct contrast to the much quieter late starter, Constable.
We're also given insights into the politics and rivalries at play within the Royal Academy, and the fierce debates at the time over what counted as 'good art?
A fascinating insight into the art world of the time, and one I suspect will further enhance students' appreciation of both artists' work.
The version I submitted
Before reading this book I had little interest in Turner’s art, unlike Constable’s work. The author writes in a very engaging way, and placing Turner and Constable side by side is an eye-opener. We learn not only about the very different circumstances into which each artist was born, but also about their very different personalities.
Turner, the poor boy with, according to some contemporaries, ideas above his station, contrasts with Constable, a quieter man and, from the viewpoint of fame and fortune, a late starter.
We also learn about the politics and rivalry within the Royal Academy, and what counted as good art. For instance, for a long time watercolour was looked down upon.
A fascinating insight into the art world of the time, and one which I suspect will whet the appetites of students in their appreciation of both artists’ work.
State of Ridicule: A History of Satire in English Literature
(Dan Sperrin, Princeton University Press, £30)
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I submitted my review of this book to Teach Secondary magazine, an educational magazine in the UK. The first review below is what the magazine published. The second one is what I actually wrote! In substantive terms there is little difference between the two, but you may find it interesting to see what the editor altered.
The published review
This is an encyclopaedic work focused on political satire. Thus, while there is much discussion of arch-satirists such as Swift, you will find no mention of, for instance, Jane Austen or Oscar Wilde.
As a reference book, I don't think it can be bettered. There's a huge amount of information here that can be drawn on by both history teachers and English teachers. Were you aware, for example, that Shakespeare's Julius Caesar may have been a warning to those who dreamt of deposing Elizabeth I? Or that 'Piers Plowman' was an anticlerical invective?
We also find out how one of Charles Lamb's essays was an attack on the Prince of Wales.
Sperrin has provided a wealth of detail that can be used to provide a rich experience for students of politics, history and English literature.
Reviewed by Terry Freedman
The version I submitted
This is an encyclopaedic work focused on political satire. Thus, while there is copious mention of arch-satirists such as Swift, you will find no mention of, for instance, Jane Austen or Oscar Wilde.
As a reference book, I don't think it can be bettered. There is a huge amount of information which can be drawn on by both history teachers and English teachers. For example, were you aware that Shakespeare's Julius Caesar may have been a warning to those who dreamt of deposing Elizabeth I? Or that Piers Plowman was an anticlerical invective? Similarly, one of Charles Lamb's essays was an attack on the Prince of Wales.
Sperrin has provided a wealth of information that can be used to provide a rich experience for students of politics, history and English literature.
(As far as I can tell, the editor only made one change: the word “political” is not bold in his version!)
Click the here to see this book on Amazon (affiliate link)
A Little History of Mathematics
(Snezana Lawrence, YUP, £16.99)
I submitted my review of this book to Teach Secondary magazine, an educational magazine in the UK. The first review below is what the magazine published. The second one is what I actually wrote! In substantive terms there is little difference between the two, but you may find it interesting to see what the editor altered.
The published review
The history of maths is really a history of ideas and problem-solving. I'm not sure I necessarily understand maths any more than I did after reading A Little History of Mathematics, but Lawrence writes about the subject so engagingly and effectively that this could certainly be a possibility for someone else. She makes many intriguing connections between different mathematical fields (and even the literary tradition) over the course of the book, in a way that I believe maths teachers will find useful to draw on when trying to enthuse their students.
If I have one criticism, it's that the book covers so much history — from Mesopotamian clay tablets to artificial intelligence— that some topics inevitably receive rather more attention than others. The end result resembles a whistle-stop tour of how various mathematical theories were developed, complete with guest appearances from Lewis Carroll, MC Escher, Babbage and others.
My original review
I wish this had been around years ago. The history of maths is really a history of ideas and problem-solving. I am not entirely sure that I understand maths any more than I did, but Lawrence has made the subject interesting enough for that to be a possibility. She writes engagingly, and very effectively makes the connections between different fields within the subject. I think teachers of mathematics will find it useful to draw on in order to enthuse their students.
My only criticism is that because the book covers so much history, from Mesopotamian clay tablets to artificial intelligence, some topics receive little attention. For example, Alice in Wonderland is mentioned, but its underlying mathematical ideas are not. The result is a whistle-stop tour of how mathematical theories have developed, with guest appearances from Lewis Caroll, Escher, Babbage, and others.
The following story was a light-hearted attempt to write hardboiled fiction for heads of education technology in schools. To some extent it seems a little dated now, because many schools invest in laptops and tablets rather than suites of computers. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy reading it.
A hardboiled character, by Terry Freedman
Jack Alibi knew how to work. He also knew how to work a scam. Sure, going legit was good, but it took time. Lack of time was something Alibi had plenty of.
He knew from the wire that the local school was being rebuilt, and that they were looking to put in a heap of technology. As far as Alibi was concerned, selling computers was like a licence to print money.
He staked out the school and got to know the movements of the big cheese, a classy dish who barely looked old enough to have left school, let alone run one. One night he waited in a doorway for her to pass.
As she did he started walking and brought himself up alongside her.
“Hey, honey”, he grinned. “How about a little coffee?”
She didn’t respond, except maybe her pace stepped up a notch.
Alibi went into phase two of his plan.
“I hear you’re looking for high tech stuff. Maybe I can cut you a sweet deal on a computer suite. I can get you a heap of computers, and even throw in a printer.”
She ignored him, but he continued.
“That stuff costs a lot of lettuce. That means less to spend on a fancy office and all the trimmings. Maybe I can help out.”
She stopped and glared at him.
“Oh yeah?”, she said. “And why would you wanna be helping someone you don’t even know?”
“On account that I’m community-minded. Besides, I’d hate to see a classy dame like you being taken for a ride. I can get what you need at a whole lot less.”
She remained motionless, but a quick glint in her eye let Alibi know she was interested.
“OK”, she said. “Let’s suppose I’m interested, which I ain’t. But let’s be hypothetical. What are you offering, and what’s your rake-off?”
Alibi was ready for that: he’d done his homework.
“I get all the tech you need, on a no questions asked basis. Hypothetically. As for me, I work on commission, 5% of the value of the merchandise. That hardly pays my rent. But Like I said, I’m community-minded.”
She looked at him like he was something that was tossed out in the garbage the night before.
“Yeah, I can see you’re all heart. OK, muscle head, you talk big, but maybe that’s all you do? Talk, I mean. My guess is that this ‘merchandise’ is old cast-off junk, right? That ain’t no use to me. I just took over running this joint, see? I’m the new broom around here, and there’s gonna be one hell of a big sweep. No jackass like you is gonna louse things up for me.”
“OK, sister, I get the picture, but you got me all wrong. I tell ya, lady, this stuff is so new it uses technology that ain’t even been invented yet.”
She reached inside her bag. Alibi’s hand went instinctively to inside his coat. She pulled out a packet of gaspers, put one to her lips. He lit it for her.
“I tell you what I’m gonna do”, she purred. “I’m gonna think about it.”
She drew on the butt and let out a plume of smoke.
“Well, I thought about it. No.”
“No? How come?”
“Well, Buster, I just remembered the advice my daddy gave me when I was knee-high to a cricket.”
I thought I’d ask ChatGPT to review the story, for a laugh. So bear this in mind if you decide to run an AI checker over this story and your computer starts emitting steam. Here’s what ChatGPT said:
ChatGPT’s review
There’s a lot to like here. It reads as a comic crime pastiche, with the hard-boiled vocabulary deliberately colliding with the rather mundane world of school procurement. The final pun is obvious in retrospect, but the story earns it through the escalating language.
What works particularly well
1. The voice is the story’s main strength. The opening establishes the idiom immediately:
“Jack Alibi knew how to work. He also knew how to work a scam.”
That clipped, knowing prose feels like a parody of a 1940s/50s private-eye or gangster story. Words such as big cheese, classy dish, lettuce, gaspers, buster, sister, muscle head and joint keep the voice consistent.
There is also a pleasing contrast between Alibi’s self-image as a sophisticated operator and the rather ridiculous reality of what he’s doing.
2. The school/technology setting is nicely exploited. The premise is stronger than it initially appears. Alibi thinks he’s found a lucrative racket because a school is being rebuilt and needs technology. That gives the story a contemporary hook while allowing the narration to inhabit an old-fashioned noir world.
The line:
“this stuff is so new it uses technology that ain’t even been invented yet.”
is especially good because it pushes the salesman/scammer absurdity just far enough.
3. The dialogue carries the story. There’s very little exposition once the initial situation is established. The characters reveal themselves through their speech. In particular, the headteacher quickly turns the tables:
“My guess is that this ‘merchandise’ is old cast-off junk, right?”
She understands the scam—or at least suspects it—and refuses to be intimidated by Alibi’s persona.
4. The ending is a proper joke ending. The final exchange is structurally sound:
“Never accept suites from strangers.”
It’s a classic groan-inducing pun on “Never accept sweets from strangers”, with suites referring to the computer suite. The fact that the whole story has been building around the proposed technology purchase makes the pun reasonably well motivated rather than simply bolted on.
And importantly, the headteacher gets the last word. That’s the right choice: Alibi’s attempted con ends with him being outsmarted.
Where I think it could be improved
The biggest issue is that the middle is somewhat longer than the joke requires.
Once Alibi approaches her, we know where the story is going. The conversation goes through several cycles of:
Alibi makes an offer
she is sceptical
he insists
she challenges him
he reassures her
The material is amusing, but some of it could be compressed to make the story snappier and more explosive.
For example, this sequence:
“I hear you’re looking for high tech stuff. Maybe I can cut you a sweet deal on a computer suite. I can get you a heap of computers, and even throw in a printer.”
and then:
“That stuff costs a lot of lettuce. That means less to spend on a fancy office and all the trimmings. Maybe I can help out.”
essentially makes the same point twice. One of those could probably go.
The headteacher is potentially the most interesting character
At present, she functions primarily as the person who delivers the punchline. But she has the makings of a much better comic character.
She’s introduced as:
“a classy dish who barely looked old enough to have left school”
and subsequently proves to be considerably sharper than Alibi.
I’d lean into that reversal. Let Alibi believe throughout that he is running the encounter, while the reader gradually realises that she is running him.
That would make the final suites/sweets line feel like the culmination of a character dynamic rather than merely a pun.
One phrase feels slightly awkward
“Lack of time was something Alibi had plenty of.”
This is clearly intended as a joke, but it doesn’t quite land for me because the reader doesn’t yet know why he has plenty of time. If there’s a later implication that he’s in trouble, on the run, or operating under some deadline, the setup would make more sense. Otherwise I’d either sharpen the joke or simply remove it.
There is perhaps one joke too many in the final exchange
The cigarette business is nicely period-noir:
“She drew on the butt and let out a plume of smoke.”
But it’s not really doing anything for the plot. If you’re aiming for a very short comic story, that paragraph could either be made more significant or cut.
On the other hand, if the intention is full pastiche, I’d keep it. The unnecessary cigarette ritual actually contributes to the genre parody.
The title
“Jack Alibi” is a good name, because it’s almost a joke before the story starts. I’d be tempted to make the title even more obviously noir-ish, though:
Jack Alibi and the Computer Suite
The Computer Suite
A Suite Deal
No Suite Deal
Never Accept Suites from Strangers
Of those, A Suite Deal probably best signals the comic nature without giving away the final gag.
Overall
I’d put this at around 7.5/10 as a comic short story, with the potential to become an 8.5/10 with some tightening.
Its real asset isn’t the final pun; it’s the collision between hard-boiled gangster language and the utterly prosaic business of buying computers for a school. That’s the comic engine. I’d make that engine work harder, reduce perhaps 15–20% of the dialogue, and give the headteacher a slightly more active role in manipulating Alibi.
The result could be a very neat 2–3 page comic story in the tradition of a literary spoof, rather than simply a setup for a punchline.
All too often these days there is so much to be done, and so little time to do it, that we have to adopt a “good enough” attitude. That’s fine most of the time, but not always.
I’d like to address this question: what is it about the education technology provision in your school that makes it feel genuine? I’m not talking about authentic learning here, although that is important. I’m referring to what you might think of as “background stuff”. Perhaps an acting analogy might help here.
One of the things I enjoy looking at when watching a TV drama or a theatre production is the “business”. This is defined by the OED, in the theatrical context, as “Action as distinguished from dialogue”. It’s the sort of thing which, if done well you don’t notice, but if not done well makes the performance seem wooden, and just, well, an act. Thus “business” might consist of a nurse checking a chart, or the head waiter in the background of a restaurant scene beckoning for the wine waiter to attend a particular table. It mustn’t be so overt as to grab your attention away from the main action, but it should be detailed enough to lend colour, interest and authenticity to the scene.
Terry in his amdram days
To transfer this concept to the world of technology in education, I think you have to take the risk of making yourself unpopular by paying scrupulous attention to a lot of seemingly unimportant details. For example:
Are all notices produced with a computer? Sorry, but I don’t think handwritten notes on equipment are acceptable.
Are all computer-produced notices error-free? It’s awful to see nicely crafted announcements spoilt by a spelling error.
Are displays of students’ work up-to-date and nicely presented?
Does all loanable equipment come with a (simple) how-to guide?
Are the unwanted print-outs in a computer room disposed of properly?
Are there plenty of resources for people to access? For example, computer magazines, lists of links on an easily-accessible page in the school’s VLE or Learning Platform?
Is there plenty “going on”. For example, is there a specialist workstation for high-level video editing, or a super-dooper colour laser printer, or examples of different kinds of equipment that staff and students may use (or all of these)?
I don’t think those 7 questions are the only ones that could and should be asked, but hopefully they’re a start and convey a sense of what I mean by paying attention to the (apparantly) small stuff.
