More than a narration—an immersive haunting.

Overall Rating: 5 Stars | Performance: 5 Stars | Story: 5 Stars

This is exactly how Heart of Darkness should be experienced. Kenneth Branagh understands perfectly that Heart of Darkness is structured as a story being retold to companions. He doesn’t sound like a narrator, he isn't “reading” the book aloud; he sounds like a man retelling a dark, personal history; he tells the story in a way that feels like an echo of Marlow’s own voice.

Heart of Darkness is a book obsessed with sound—with voices and words—whispers, groans, and the silence of the darkness. Branagh navigates this auditory landscape with such brilliant precision that listening becomes a hypnotic, almost dangerous experience.

Branagh so completely captures the spell of Conrad’s language that the listener is drawn further and further in, just as the map of Africa once charmed the young Charlie Marlow. You won't just feel like you’ve heard a story; you'll feel like you are carrying Marlow’s loyalty to Kurtz inside yourself, and that you too will be compelled to re-tell the story. A masterclass in performance.

The Death of the Reader?

I'm delighted that my response to an article by James Marriott has been published by the Scottish Union for Education. 

Summary

Last month I attended a book event at the Mitchell Library in Glasgow. Two authors, Kat Hill and Kristie De Garis, were there to discuss their new nature writing books. The event followed the usual format—interview, reading, Q&A—except for one thing: neither author read from their work. Instead, they talked about representation: how few female nature writers there are, how few black nature writers, how few working-class writers. The words themselves seemed almost incidental.

This got me thinking about James Marriott's recent essay arguing we're living through a post-literate revolution. Smartphones have destroyed our attention spans; students can't read Dickens anymore; democracy itself is at risk. It's a frightening diagnosis. But here's the thing: Scottish book festivals are reporting record attendance. People are still turning up for books. So what's really going on?

I think there are two types of post-literacy emerging. The first is technological—people who can't sustain attention, whose cognitive architecture has been rewired by screens. The second is ideological—people who can read perfectly well but won't engage with anything that might "trigger" them or doesn't announce its political credentials upfront. At Blackwell's in Oxford, I watched a student reject book after book: "racist," "homophobic," "fascist." Finally, she found one "without trouble."

Both rob us of our inheritance, but the second may be more insidious because it's self-inflicted. We're not the barbarians at the gates; we're the librarians trashing our own collections. The question before us is not whether we can read; but whether we dare to.

I've written about this at length for the Scottish Union for Education. You can read the full piece here: [The Death of the Reader? - Scottish Union for Education Newsletter](https://open.substack.com/pub/scottishunionforeducation/p/scottish-union-for-education-newsletter-dde)

The Inklings: Beyond Biography, Into Prophecy - Goodreads Review - The Inklings by Humphrey Carpenter

 

The Inklings: C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Charles Williams and Their Friends by Humphrey Carpenter
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Essential Reading That's Even More Relevant Today

Humphrey Carpenter's biography might well remain the definitive account of that remarkable group of Oxford friends, including C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien and Charles Williams. But reading it today reveals something its 1978 audience couldn't fully appreciate: just how prophetic Lewis's concerns really were.

One of the most challenging aspects of this biography is Carpenter's portrait of Lewis as argumentatively aggressive, even "bullying" in debate. At first glance, it's easy to dismiss Lewis as an academic pugilist. But as I worked through this book (switching between the excellent Bernard Mayes audiobook and the paperback, a highly recommended approach as it mirrors how the Inklings themselves first heard each other's work read aloud), I began to see something else.

Lewis's forceful style, particularly around his 1943 book *The Abolition of Man*, wasn't just academic egotism. For Lewis, arguments about subjectivism and moral relativism weren't merely intellectual exercises. They were battles with real spiritual stakes. If he believed a line of reasoning led toward moral disaster, his intensity transforms from "harangue" (as Carpenter perhaps unfairly describes it) into something closer to desperately trying to save a friend from a grave error.

Reading this in 2025, it's striking how prophetic Lewis was. The radical consequences of subjectivism that seemed merely theoretical in the 1970s are questions we grapple with constantly today. Carpenter couldn't see this coming, but Lewis did.

My main disappointment is that Carpenter focuses heavily on biography at the expense of historical context. The Inklings weren't unique and were instead continuing a vital English tradition. They were essentially performing the same cultural service for 20th-century Oxford that Samuel Johnson's Club had performed for 18th-century London: weekly gatherings of brilliant minds at a pub, sharpening ideas through vigorous (often combative) conversation. This parallel would have enriched our understanding of what made the Inklings significant beyond their individual literary achievements.

Should You Read It? Yes, if. It's definitely worth a read, or a listen, if you're interested in Lewis, Tolkien, or mid-20th-century literary history and want to understand the friendship dynamics and intellectual context behind some of the century's most influential Christian fantasy literature. But be aware: This is biography-focused rather than literary criticism. If you're looking for a deep analysis of Lord of the Rings or the Narnia books, look elsewhere. But for understanding the men and their friendships, this is indispensable.

Despite its limitations, this remains essential reading for anyone seriously studying Lewis, Tolkien, or the intellectual history of the 20th century. Carpenter gives us the biographical foundation we need, even if we have to supply some of the broader context ourselves.

Pro tip: The audiobook (narrated by Bernard Mayes) adds wonderful immediacy. Alternating between reading and listening became part of my experience of the book itself.

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