The Lost Diaries of Adrian Mole, 1999-2001 by Sue Townsend.
Title: The Lost Diaries of Adrian Mole, 1999-2001.
Author: Sue Townsend.
Genre: Fiction, humour, epistolary fiction, 9/11.
Country: U.S.
Language: English.
Publication Date: 2008.
Summary: The "same age as Jesus when he died" (30s), Adrian Mole has become a martyr: a single-father bringing up two young boys in an uncaring world. With the ever-unattainable Pandora pursuing her ambition to become Labour's first female PM, his over-achieving half-brother Brett sponging off him, and literary success ever-elusive, Adrian tries to make ends meet and find a purpose. But little does he realise that his own modest life is about to come to the attention of those charged with policing The War Against Terror.
My rating: 7.5/10.
♥ William pronounced himself to be "devastated" at his failure. I must stop him watching so much television, it is having a deleterious effect on his vocabulary. He has no sense of proportion. He fell off his tricycle yesterday. When I asked him if he was all right he said, "I'm cool Dad, I just want to get on with the rest of my life."
♥ In fact, they have shown more interest in the fighting on the streets than they have shown in the football on the pitch. Mrs Wormington talked to me as I ironed one of her vast, full-skirted summer frocks. According to her, certain sections of young Englishmen have always behaved like Barbarians when they have travelled abroad as a group. She said, "How do you think we managed to capture all them foreign countries. It weren't the limp-wristed brigade what done it and coloured the map pink."
♥ Social intercourse was conducted with such delicacy in those days. It's no wonder that Mrs Wormington was shocked at Denise Van Outen's grubby little TV show. Even I, an admirer of the female breast, begin to tire of prime-time mammaries.
♥ I now feel slightly ashamed of myself for getting caught up in the hysteria, but I need my car. I'm too sensitive to be a full-time pedestrian. The non-car-owning public are unpredictable, their voices are loud and their tempers are uncertain. I feel safer in my car with my Abba tapes and Radio 4.
♥ The Prayer Zone was still empty. The woman vicar in the pastel tracksuit was obviously grateful to see me and hear my religious views. I told her I had recently become a tree worshipper and asked if there was an organization I could join. She looked through her index of the Book of World Religions, without success before saying, “The Liberal Democrats may be your best bet.”