I loved every one of the previous Schott's Miscellanies; this one is not quite of the same caliber. The uniform excellence of the earlier volumes is nI loved every one of the previous Schott's Miscellanies; this one is not quite of the same caliber. The uniform excellence of the earlier volumes is not maintained here.Though there is still plenty of weirdly fascinating, completely useless trivia, this volume does seem to contain more padding. Ten pages given over to various taxonomies of the different stages of life seems excessive, as does the inclusion of a "Withnail and I Imbibing Guide", and the table of word frequencies in Beatle songs. I would not have missed the complete enumeration of Friends episodes, and tabulating the letters of the Greek alphabet hardly seems worth the space.
But you know what? Maybe I'm just being a petty quibbler here (wouldn't be the first time). Because this is a book that also gives you:
480 different ways to spell "scissors" Tintin and the foreign translators (I confess to a prior obsession with the different linguistic variations of "Dupont et Dupond"; it's all here) Animal cries (apes gibber and magpies chatter, but did you know that mastodons bellow, or that bitterns boom?) The Proust questionnaire Notable winds ((from the Chinook to the Williwaw) Curious economic indicators Fool's errands (tartan paint, ethernet tape, wild haggis, eel's feet, ...) Phrases of supererogation and stupidity (coals to Newcastle, owls to Athens, taking your samovar to Tula, ....) Unusual April's Fool Hoaxes A two-page precipitation lexicon* (toad-stranglers, nubbin-stretchers, monkey's weddings, ...)
Guess what? I've worked myself back up to a 4-star rating. To a certain type of reader (and you know who you are) this stuff is like crack cocaine. This sequel might not be strictly necessary, but that doesn't mean it's not a whole lot of fun.
Forget what I said earlier. Ben Scott's genius remains undisputed.
John Hodgman's first book had a certain whimsical appeal. But this book, which goes on for 656 pages, is just way too much of the same old shtick, andJohn Hodgman's first book had a certain whimsical appeal. But this book, which goes on for 656 pages, is just way too much of the same old shtick, and is more annoying than entertaining. The bad news is that he has apparently gone on to write yet a third one. Apparently the world at large has a greater tolerance for Hodgman's essentially one-note meanderings than I do....more
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