Salut!

Bill Bryson: further notes, sweet and sour, from a partner-in-grumpiness

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Welcome, Bill Bryson, to Salut!s unashamed tendency to write about books when it comes across them, not necessarily when they first come out ...

Bill Bryson, on his own candid admission, is something of a curmudgeon. That is not all we have in common. We both worked for newspapers, local and national, and became rather pedantic about aspects of our trade. We enjoy the English countryside, beer (though, being American, he is more of a lager fan than I could ever be), Indian food and sport (he'd say sports).

There our similarities more or less end. Although we both write for a living, he does so with huge and deserved success, and I do not.

His 1996 book, Notes from a Small Island, describing his introduction to the UK as a young American backpacker starting inauspiciously in Dover, was and remains a bestseller. Other books have followed, as well as television programmes, lecture tours and a university chancellorship (in blessed Durham). He no longer needs to work for newspapers. I, meanwhile, struggle to complete my first book, a proper one as opposed to the single chapters contributed to a couple of compilations; I still file copy diligently to newspapers long after I ceased to be in their actual employment and the highest academic honour in County Durham that I can claim was being asked by my great friend Pete Sixsmith to talk to his sixth form liberal studies group about journalism.

A France in which women are free - to do as they're told

Manuel Valls, the French prime minister, annoys members of his Parti Socialist by not being socialist enough. Another way of putting that would be to say he is unpopular with non-realists in his party. I admire him, as I have said previously. But I think he is hopelessly and dangerously wrong in his support for the right-wing mayors who want/wanted to ban Muslim women from wearing burkinis (burqinis in the style of The National*) on the beach.

Remember, when you see those images of police officers ordering women to uncover as baying idiots shout "go home", that they are already wearing considerably less than French law permits on the street. Logic, I am afraid, has defeated the French in this debate. But Valls, rebuking The New York Times in an inaccurate response to an article quoting French Muslim women's concerns, tells us it's all to do with protecting freedom, not - as might seem obvious to a child of 10 - denying it ...

After Cats on Trees, Come take note of Jain

My guess is that if you know who Cats on Trees are but do not live in France, and did not watch a subtitled French TV drama called Disparue when shown as Disappearance on British TV, you first heard about them here. That series used the outstanding duo's Sirens Call as the fade-out theme as the credits rolled.

And from the same south-western city of Toulouse comes my next French musical recommendation. Let us please hear it for Jain.