The great British novel about class snobbery and overweening pomposity, The Diary of a Nobody gives the world Mr Pooter, a Victorian gentleman constantly at war with tradesmen, his feckless son and a barrage of inanimate objects.
Rejoicing in the absurdity of cringe-inducing social clangers and exquisitely constructed set pieces, the Grossmith’s landmark work still retains the power to induce guffaws.
At Home with the Pewters
I’m bound to admit that some of the experiences, and also, for heavens’ sake, the attitudes of the ‘pathetic ass who records his trivial life’ (as William Emrys Williams put it in his...
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