The shortest month still gave me plenty of reading time – here’s a round-up of what I’ve been reading!
Led by Donkeys: Adventures in Art, Activism and Accountability (2024)
I enjoyed it enough to forgive the lack of Oxford comma in the title.
For those unfamiliar, Led by Donkeys are a left-leaning activist group who cause various mischief by carrying out political stunts such as unfurling a lettuce banner behind Liz Truss while the soon-to-be obscure pub quiz answer was on stage; painting the road outside the Russian embassy in yellow and blue; and projecting a film onto Buckingham Palace highlighting the dishonesty of the man who would, in that very same building just months later, lie to the monarch about the prorogation of Parliament.
They first rose to prominence as an anti-Brexit group, displaying posters of quotes from leading ‘Vote leave’ politicians which predictably aged like milk. While I found them generally worthy of a retweet, I thought they were perhaps guilty of preaching to the choir and was doubtful of their ability to more widely influence voters with snarky posters. Several times in this book, the narrative sections explaining some of their ‘sillier’ work stops just about short of claiming to have had actual influence over political change – but nonetheless it leaves a slight whiff of trying to unfairly connect correlation and causation.
What slipped under my radar was some of their other work which has had a genuine political impact.
They were involved in the creation of the sobering Covid memorial wall, using their know-how of public stunts to ensure the memorial could be created without being shut down. The photos of its creation are powerful to look through, and as highlighted in the book, there is something striking in the fact a photo of the wall is placed in the Covid inquiry room, directly next to where those arguably responsible for many excess deaths and PPE profiteering have given testimony.
Led by Donkeys also carried out a sting operation on senior Tories Kwarteng, Hancock, and Brady – which was headline news for several days, contributing to the wider news cycle around MP’s second jobs and ‘cash for access’. While some will cry entrapment, it would easily have been avoided if those caught had prioritised basic due diligence, and their constituents, over greed.
More recently, they were behind another heart-wrenching art installation on Bournemouth beach – using second-hand children’s clothes in a line stretching 5km to show the scale of devastation in Gaza.
The Led by Donkeys team have risked their liberty to carry out some of their stunts, are always peaceful, and always ‘punch up’ to try and hold politicians to account – a job much our traditional media have been doing a pretty dour job of. They’ve also progressed from snarky posters to deeply meaningful and increasingly complex public art installations. This all should be applauded, and their book certainly made me look on their work more favourably. It’s a short read and mostly consists of well-captured photographs.
Serhii Plokhy: Chernobyl Roulette (2024)
I have a perhaps slightly morbid fascination with modern nuclear history (see also, “The Men Who Saved The World”) – and have previously read many of Plokhy’s more works on the Cuban Missile Crisis and Chernobyl.
Alarmingly, this latest work on Chernobyl doesn’t cover the 1986 disaster; instead a near-disaster in 2022 with the Russian occupation of the station and surrounding areas. As ever, Plokhy’s writing is both accessible and incredibly detailed, featuring accounts from the operatives held hostage and forced to keep the station running safely in poor conditions.
Plokhy focuses on the actions of individuals and how their level-headed actions prevented escalation – and how negotiating with the Russian forces exposed the naivety of their plan to capture the station. Plokhy also links the actions inside the station to outside events – including the outbreak of wider war, attempts to capture a second nuclear power station, and the diplomatic tension hampering a firmer international response.
Choosing to read it this month turned out to be a prescient choice. The day after I finished this book, Chernobyl was once again under Russian attack – this time, a drone strike on the protective shelter which covers the damaged reactor.
Bob Mortimer: The Satsuma Complex (2022)
Understandably, I was after a bit of a cheerier read following Chernobyl.
Who better to provide a light read than Bob Mortimer?
A simply superb detective-romance-comedy, filled with comical asides that you can just picture Bob saying to Paul Whitehouse while sat on a river bank. If you haven’t watched Gone Fishing, fire up BBC iPlayer at once for some wholesome viewing.
I couldn’t put The Satsuma Complex down. The humour isn’t too absurdist, while the plot is simultaneously engaging, tense, serious, and sweet. An easy and joyous read.
Honourable mentions
Tom Baldwin’s biography of Keir Starmer (2024) adds some important colour in tackling the “dull” reputation given to Starmer by sections of the press. While not an “officially authorised” biography, Baldwin’s access is unprecedented and portrays a decent man who remains true to his values of right and wrong, of progress over ideological perfection, and of privacy over performative publicity. Which is far more than can be said for his recent predecessors.
Last month I read David McCloskey’s Moscow X, and this month I read Damascus Station (2021) – another spy thriller which draws inspiration from real events, and I struggled to put it down!
Top stock photo credit: Polina Zimmerman
