I'd hate anyone to think that I was completely obsessed by politics and didn't have any 'hinterland' - as a famous politician once put it. So occasionally I intend to write about everyday life and about things cultural.

Last week, I am amazed to realise I actually finished reading 3 books. Even more amazingly two were non-fiction and only one a novel, though I have already finished another novel this week. I'm surprised because I always go to bed with my latest novel and, reading till late, tend to go through them quite steadily, whereas non-fiction tends to be squeezed into the odd gaps in the evenings between meetings and an occasional television programme.

I had been reading Richard Dawkins latest - The Greatest Show on Earth - for weeks. I would count him as one of my heroes, partly as such an inspiring writer and teacher on evolution and partly because of his advocacy of the sort of militant atheism to which I subscribe. In this book he sets out to provide all the different kinds of evidence now available to support the theory of evolution. This is intended to refute the ideas of the creationists and intelligent designers, though he largely refrains from outright attacks on them - allowing the evidence beautifully assembled by him to do its own work.

Having finally finished him early in the week - with a sigh of regret at leaving his wonderful writing - I moved on to the latest by Susan Hill - Howards End is on The Landing. This ostensibly refers to her deciding to spend a year reading - or re-reading - books she already owns and with her finally settling on a list of 40 she would need to have on her desert island. Some of the favourite authors she looked at certainly chimed with me from classics like Thomas Hardy ( like me she loves The Return of the Native, but unlike me hates Jude the Obscure and she doesn't even mention a favourite tear-jerker of mine - Tess of the Durbervilles) to largely forgotten people like Elizabeth Jane Howard (I vowed to get down my row of her novels and re-read them, as I remember loving them back in the 70's - I think). Mind you I couldn't agree with her dislike of Jane Austen or her enthusiasm for Anita Brookner - very tedious in my view. Still, having vowed to cut down on my book-buying as part of my 10:10 commitment this book certainly gave me lot of inspiration for shopping my own shelves. Actually I loved all Susan Hill's own early novels so will have to re-read them too.

The novel I finished last week - Sunnyside by Glen David Gould - was a disappointment to me, as I absolutely loved his first novel - Carter Beats the Devil. There were 3 separate story strands, all set during World War One. The largest chunk was devoted to Charlie Chaplin's early career and for me it never caught life, though there were some striking scenes. One section my heart sank whenever it came up. I found myself only actively enjoying a third strand about a lighthouse keeper turned soldier who rescues two new-born puppies in war-torn France. One of them turns out to be that great canine hero of numerous films - Rin-Tin-Tin, which at least brings us back full circle as, at the beginning, the lighthouse-keeper was one of numerous people across the States caught up in the hysteria of imagining they had seen Charlie Chaplin wherever they were on a certain day in 1916. I had really looked forward to this so sad to be disappointed.