The best new fiction and non-fiction books: http://www.telegraph.co.uk critics' pick of the week.
 
                                
1. The Solitary Self: Darwin and the Selfish Gene by Mary Midgley
1. The Solitary Self: Darwin and the Selfish Gene by Mary Midgley
The necessity of relying on other people is the theme of Mary Midgley's new 
  book, The Solitary Self, a slim volume written in her 92nd year. Mary 
  Midgley’s elegant and harmonious books are a superb companion to anyone 
  seeking “adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy”.

2. Aphrodite's Hat by Salley Vickers
2. Aphrodite's Hat by Salley Vickers
Love is fleeting - is the underlying theme of this collection, with most of 
  the protagonists either enduring, escaping or destroying unsatisfactory 
  relationships. Aphrodite's Hat is shot through with a gentle wit and a 
  winning charm. 
Born Brilliant serves as the title, but “Born Bitchy” would do just as well. 
  In this book Williams is shown to be as pathologically selfish as he was 
  gregarious, and as fastidious as he was filthy. Christopher Stevens has 
  combed his stories for the authorised biography and the spectacular bile 
  Williams reserved for his private memoirs makes it a rare one – intimate and 
  cosily enjoyable, yet laced with the very poison its debonair subject 
  secretly uncorked. 
Jones has also lost none of his ability to convey subtly the shifting power 
  lines between people. The novel’s readability belies its great depth. 
  However, it’s also an uncomfortable read: the anonymity of so many of the 
  characters speaks for us all and our primitive needs, begging the question 
  how far we would go to get them met: pawn our teeth? 
Green’s Dictionary of Slang is the reference work of the vulgar tongue to 
  which all others must now be referred. Readers of BE Gent and the 
  Profanisaurus alike will find the miniature histories it brings to their 
  vocabulary fascinating. Green has now exhibited English slang in more detail 
  than any lexicographer before him, and thrown it onto the bookshelves of the 
  world. 
Anne Boleyn – beautiful, erotic and ambitious – spent all but the last six 
  months of her life with Henry VIII battling against a woman she never quite 
  managed to defeat: Catherine of Aragon, Henry’s first wife. 
Giles Tremlett’s enthralling biography suggests that Anne helped decide that 
  Queen Catherine should be discreetly buried (at Peterborough Abbey) and that 
  the priest should refer to her as a mere princess. Catherine’s only child, 
  Mary Tudor, was spitefully forbidden to attend the funeral. 
This fifth outing for the hunchbacked Tudor lawyer-sleuth Matthew Shardlake, a 
  man with morals as upright as his body is crooked, has more plot lines than 
  Henry VIII had wives, but Sansom is in complete control of his material and 
  paces his yarn perfectly. Sly comments on Henry’s unwise expansionist 
  ambitions have modern echoes, but Sansom’s own attempts at expansionism need 
  not cause concern — you will speed through this whopper of a novel like King 
  You-Know-Who devouring a capon. 
8 A Capital Crime by Laura Wilson
Laura Wilson specialises in depicting the ways in which horrific crime affects 
  the lives of ordinary folk, and here she turns her attention to the ultimate 
  man-on-the-Clapham-omnibus crime – the murders allegedly committed by John 
  Christie. This beautifully written fictionalised version of the Christie 
  story stands with 10 Rillington Place as a work that will make you wonder 
  forever more about the dark, seething passions that lie behind your 
  neighbour’s cardigan and slacks 
Different types of spectre flit in and out of fashion. There was a time in the 
  Twenties and Thirties when one could barely visit a manor house without 
  seeing a woman in grey. One hardly hears of that these days. In the 
  Nineties, ghosts were out and spooky aliens were in, thanks no doubt to The 
  X Files. And when is the last time anyone saw a headless figure? 
Although little is offered by way of speculation or analysis, the overall tone 
  of this winning compendium of “true” ghost stories seems to be one of 
  parchment-dry amusement. Even Peter Ackroyd’s opening assertion that “the 
  English see more ghosts than anyone else” conjures that enjoyable 
  torch-under-chin complicity that all good ghost stories have. 
The sun is a big subject, and Richard Cohen, who is a former publisher and the 
  author of a history of swordfighting, has written a big book about it, an 
  encyclopedic plum pudding of a compendium. 
He begins by climbing Mount Fuji to watch a sunrise, and ends by watching a 
  sunset from a boat on the Ganges at Varanasi – and in the meantime visits 16 
  other countries, reads hundreds of books and considers our star from every 
  conceivable perspective, and some that are barely conceivable. 
 
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