A Very Personal War, first published in 1971, was James Hamilton-Paterson's first non-fiction book, and though out of print for many years it retains its force and relevance today. 'In 1969 my agent called me into his office to meet a mysterious man who wanted his story told. He was Cornelius Hawkridge, who had escaped from Hungary during the 1956 uprising and had gone to America. He had recently returned from Vietnam, where for some years he had been conducting a bull-headed one-man investigation into the wholesale theft in South East Asia of US construction material, the corrupt practices of major US contractors supplying the military, and an international money-changing scam... But few wished to know: any negative news about the war in Vietnam qualified as 'rocking the boat'... In 1970 I holed up with him on the island of Gozo for some weeks while he told his story.' James Hamilton-Paterson
A lavishly illustrated celebration of the golden age of aircraft, cars, ships and locomotives from 1900 to 1941 by the author of the bestselling Empire of the Clouds. This dazzling book describes the flourishing of transport and travel, and the engineering that made it possible, in the years before the Second World War. It is an homage to the great vehicles and their mechanisms, their cultural impact and the social change they enabled. James Hamilton-Paterson explores the pinnacle of the steam engine, the advent and glory days of the luxury motorcar and the monster vehicles used in land speed records, the marvellous fast ocean liners and the excitement and beauty of increasingly aerodynamic forms of passenger aircraft. These were the days when for most people long-distance travel was a dream, and the dream-like glamour of these machines has never been surpassed. Hamilton-Paterson has an unrivalled ability to write evocatively about engineering and design in their historical context, and in this book he brings a vanished era to life.
A dramatic and fascinating account of aerial combat during World War I, revealing the terrible risks taken by the men who fought and died in the world's first war in the air. Little more than ten years after the first powered flight, aircraft were pressed into service in World War I. Nearly forgotten in the war's massive overall death toll, some 50,000 aircrew would die in the combatant nations' fledgling air forces. The romance of aviation had a remarkable grip on the public imagination, propaganda focusing on gallant air 'aces' who become national heroes. The reality was horribly different. Marked for Death debunks popular myth to explore the brutal truths of wartime aviation: of flimsy planes and unprotected pilots; of burning nineteen-year-olds falling screaming to their deaths; of pilots blinded by the entrails of their observers. James Hamilton-Paterson also reveals how four years of war produced profound changes both in the aircraft themselves and in military attitudes and strategy. By 1918 it was widely accepted that domination of the air above the battlefield was crucial to military success, a realization that would change the nature of warfare forever.
Gerald Samper is a ghost writer to the stars: rock singers, racing drivers and ski champions. And to Millie Cleat, the monstrous one-armed sailor, whose round the world voyage has made her the toast of Britain, and who has become the poster-girl for the Deep Blues, a mystical and nutty environmental group. Gerald pines for greater things, however, and would prefer to write the memoirs of Max Christ, the celebrated conductor. While he schemes to land this unattainable catch, he muses hilariously and viciously on the world of which he is such an unwilling part, looking out from his Tuscan hilltop and pining for his neighbour Marta, offspring of a crime family from Voynovia, who disappeared one day into thin air. Has she been the subject of a 'rendition'? Meanwhile, some oceanographers are planning revenge on Millie Cleat for her destruction of their greatest coup. Gerald convinces her that she has seen the face of Neptune in the depths ...
An ode to Beethoven's revolutionary masterpiece, his Third Symphony In 1805, the world of music was startled by an avant-garde and explosive new work. Intellectually and emotionally, Beethoven's Third Symphony, the "Eroica," rudely broke the mold of the Viennese Classical symphony and revealed a powerful new expressiveness, both personal and societal. Even the whiff of actual political revolution was woven into the work-it was originally inscribed to Napoleon Bonaparte, a dangerous hero for a composer dependent on conservative royal patronage. With the first two stunning chords of the "Eroica," classical music was transformed. In Beethoven's Eroica, James Hamilton-Paterson reconstructs this great moment in Western culture, the shock of the music and the symphony's long afterlife.
1961. A squadron of Vulcan aircraft, Britain's most lethal nuclear bomber, flies towards the east coast of the United States. Highly manoeuvrable, the great delta-winged machines are also equipped with state of the art electronic warfare devices that jam American radar systems. Evading the fighters scrambled to intercept them, the British aircraft target Washington and New York, reducing them to smoking ruins. They would have done, at least, if this were not an exercise. This extraordinary raid (which actually took place) opens James Hamilton-Paterson's remarkable novel about the lives of British pilots at the height of the Cold War, when aircrew had to be on call 24 hours a day to fly their nuclear-armed V-bombers to the Western USSR and devastate the lives of millions. This is the story of Squadron-Leader Amos McKenna, a Vulcan pilot who is suffering from desires and frustrations that are tearing his marriage apart and making him question his ultimate loyalties. Relations with the American cousins are tense; the future of the RAF bomber fleet is in doubt. And there is a spy at RAF Wearsby, who is selling secrets to his Russian handlers in seedy East Anglian cafes. A macabre Christmas banquet at which aircrew under intolerable pressures go crazy, with tragic consequences, and a dramatic and disastrous encounter with the Americans in the Libyan desert, are among the high points of a novel that surely conveys the beauty and danger of flying better than any other in recent English literature.
Nearing the end of his career, Sir Edward Elgar impulsively decides to travel by ship to Brazil, where he encounters a woman from his past. Set in 1923 and based on true events, Gernontius is a modern classic, and takes the great composer out of his depths in this beautiful, episodic, mysterious novel set in 1923.
Seven-Tenths is James Hamilton-Paterson's classic exploration of the sea. A beautifully-written blend of literature and science, it is here brought back into print in a revised and updated edition which includes the acclaimed essay Sea Burial.
“A very funny sendup of Italian-cooking-holiday-romance novels” (Publishers Weekly). Gerald Samper, an effete English snob, has his own private hilltop in Tuscany where he whiles away his time working as a ghostwriter for celebrities and inventing wholly original culinary concoctions––including ice cream made with garlic and the bitter, herb-based liqueur known as Fernet Branca. But Gerald’s idyll is about to be shattered by the arrival of Marta, on the run from a crime-riddled former Soviet republic, as a series of misunderstandings brings this odd couple into ever closer and more disastrous proximity . . . “Provokes the sort of indecorous involuntary laughter that has more in common with sneezing than chuckling. Imagine a British John Waters crossed with David Sedaris.” —The New York Times
A classic of travel writing. For many years award-winning writer James Hamilton-Paterson spent a third of each year on an otherwise uninhabited Philippine island, spear-fishing for survival. Playing with Water tells us why he did. Yet it also gives an account of life in that class-bound country as a whole. For it is in places like this rather than Manila of the international news reports that the underlying political and cultural reality of the Philippines may be seen.
James Hamilton-Paterson describes Three Miles Down (first published in 1998) as 'the account of a treasure hunt in 1995 which I joined as the expedition's chronicler. A group of Britons had chartered the Russian oceanographic ship, the Mstislav Keldysh, to look for the wrecks of two vessels sunk in the Atlantic in the Second World War... Both were alleged to be carrying cargoes of gold.' For the author the experience was to bring home all 'the emotions and practical technicalities of the search phase of marine salvage.' '[Hamilton-Paterson's] unfolding of the story and his deft sketching of some unusual personalities grips like the skinny hand of the Ancient Mariner.' Scotsman 'He proves to be a chronicler of the intrigue among a crew of strangers, a fount of lore about wrecks and deep-sea exploration, and a marvellous witness to the lightless wonders of profound depths.' Outside
Inspired by the author's tropical travels, this is the story of an enterprising young bell-hop who moonlights as a guide for foreign visitors, the latest being a hippie English family. The two parties' mutual exploitation leads to both farce and minor tragedy and conveys both the allure and revulsion the East holds for Westerners.
In 1945 Britain was the world's leading designer and builder of aircraft - a world-class achievement that was not mere rhetoric. And what aircraft they were. The sleek Comet, the first jet airliner. The awesome delta-winged Vulcan, an intercontinental bomber that could be thrown about the sky like a fighter. The Hawker Hunter, the most beautiful fighter-jet ever built and the Lightning, which could zoom ten miles above the clouds in a couple of minutes and whose pilots rated flying it as better than sex. How did Britain so lose the plot that today there is not a single aircraft manufacturer of any significance in the country? What became of the great industry of de Havilland or Handley Page? And what was it like to be alive in that marvellous post-war moment when innovative new British aircraft made their debut, and pilots were the rock stars of the age? James Hamilton-Paterson captures that season of glory in a compelling book that fuses his own memories of being a schoolboy plane spotter with a ruefully realistic history of British decline - its loss of self confidence and power. It is the story of great and charismatic machines and the men who flew them: heroes such as Bill Waterton, Neville Duke, John Derry and Bill Beaumont who took inconceivable risks, so that we could fly without a second thought.
Gerald Samper is a ghost writer to the stars: rock singers, racing drivers and ski champions. And to Millie Cleat, the monstrous one-armed sailor, whose round the world voyage has made her the toast of Britain, and who has become the poster-girl for the Deep Blues, a mystical and nutty environmental group. Gerald pines for greater things, however, and would prefer to write the memoirs of Max Christ, the celebrated conductor. While he schemes to land this unattainable catch, he muses hilariously and viciously on the world of which he is such an unwilling part, looking out from his Tuscan hilltop and pining for his neighbour Marta, offspring of a crime family from Voynovia, who disappeared one day into thin air. Has she been the subject of a 'rendition'? Meanwhile, some oceanographers are planning revenge on Millie Cleat for her destruction of their greatest coup. Gerald convinces her that she has seen the face of Neptune in the depths ...
Thank you for visiting our website. Would you like to provide feedback on how we could improve your experience?
This site does not use any third party cookies with one exception — it uses cookies from Google to deliver its services and to analyze traffic.Learn More.