History

On the way here I decided I'd get myself a book. I love the idea of buying books at the airport but the reality never quite matches the anticipation.

The idea:

Buy a book. The world is your oyster. The freedom of the open road. What gem of literary wisdoms to take for company.

The reality:

Airport bookshops are a bit rubbish. They never really have any books.

 

This time, for reasons which elude me at time of writing, I decided that I'd buy a history book. Something weighty and worthy and learned. Something I almost certainly wouldn't read. That's what I wanted.

So I bought Eric Hobsbawm, Age Of Extremes : The Short Twentieth Century 1914-1991

Thought:

It's not that fucking short!

This isn't the first time I've erred on the sign of stupidity in this regard. I seem to make these monumentally stupid choices based on a delusion that I will read and understand history whether I like it or not. 

It will come as no surprise to you that I like it not. It's brilliant and incisive but I can't concentrate for so much as a minute on the brilliant, incisive, lumpen text. 

A terrible decision and one I will have to carry home with me. Literally. One thing is for sure though. I will make the same mistake again.

Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it.