Just call me Terry [Eagleton, that is]

Somehow, this blog has so far resisted all mention of the awesome power that is The Book of the Face. Now I’m not going to wax lyrical about its potential for pleasurable light stalking, or forming groups to chat about the various merits of different sorts of biscuits or the turgid prose of JK Rowling – but it does have an intriguing little feature amongst all the useless add-ons that clutter up the screen (build your own aquarium, throw a sheep at someone, that sort of rubbish): a personal book review function. So people logging on to my page to covertly smirk at photographs of me on the beach can also find out that I’ve just powered through 'Le Grand Meaulnes' and am currently easing myself into my very first Margaret Drabble. It forces you to give books a mark out of five, which leaves me giving everything a judicious three (except Naipaul’s 'A Turn in the South', which merited four), and leaves you sounding a wee bit pompous, admittedly, but basically it’s a great way to show off how clever you are to all and sundry. Well, serves them right for looking, doesn’t it?