A selection of paperbacks reviewed
John Constable: A Kingdom of His Own Anthony Bailey Vintage, £11.99
The critic Julius Meier-Graefe, in his 1908 book Modern Art, named what he - like Delacroix - saw as the twin peaks of British painting: "Turner draped the inartistic in the most enchanting robes, and Constable presented the artistic in the simplest guise." Is there anything more quintessentially English than Constable's Hay Wain? Yet his influence on French artists of succeeding generations was profound. There is so much of interest about him in this fine book, not least the appeal of his personality. But if Constable was gentle, he could be strong too. Instead of going into the family business, he became an artist, and he persisted in painting landscapes when doing portraits would have been far more lucrative for himself. - Brian Maye
The Secret Life of E Robert Pendleton Michael Collins Phoenix, £6.99
Campus novel meets crime thriller in this latest work from Irish author Michael Collins. Pendleton is a washed-up, tormented English professor at a small-town college, living off the success of a brilliant debut written a decade earlier. A failed suicide attempt leaves him a vegetable, but when a student discovers a previously unknown work, Scream, Pendleton gets the acclaim he's always wanted - until disturbing similarities are discovered between his story and the real-life rape and murder of a 13-year-old girl. Collins explores life's fundamental questions - from the existence of God to why authors write - in a manner that is both acutely perceptive and darkly comic, and, in police investigator Jack Ryder, he creates a compelling portrait of loneliness and the search for redemption. - Freya McClements
Newton Peter Ackroyd Vintage, £7.99
The prolific Ackroyd here turns his attention to the genius of Isaac Newton (1642-1727). While one cannot but be hugely impressed by the great man's achievements, it is difficult to warm to him. Born into humble circumstances, he was a violent child and throughout his life was isolated, reclusive and insecure, with a prickly personality. An undoubted mathematical genius, he was first to decipher the orbit of the planets; he demonstrated gravity mathematically, proved the tides were affected by the sun and the moon and revolutionised the world of natural philosophy. There is no evidence he enjoyed any close relationship, sexual or otherwise, and if his genius was near to madness, then many at the time were inclined to the latter view. Ackroyd's research is as thorough as ever but if the book lacks any trace of humour then this may reflect on the subject himself. - Owen Dawson
The Avenue: A History of the Claremont Institution Rachel Pollard Denzille, 12
The title refers to the half-mile long tree-lined driveway that led to the Claremont Institution in Glasnevin, Dublin, the first public school in Ireland exclusively for the education of deaf and mute children. Established in 1816 by Corkman the Rev Dr Charles Orpen (granduncle of the esteemed painter) and his friend Joseph Humphreys, the school's first headmaster, it finally closed its doors in 1978. A labour of love by the author, this book brings to conclusion an unpublished history from 1924 by George Taylor, the then headmaster. Brimful of anecdotes, The Avenue is also a unique social history, recording school life down the years in letters and essays by students and teachers. There are also pen-pictures of the leading personalities behind the school, and insightful observations into the battle for souls between the Catholic and Protestant churches. - Martin Noonan
Animals Keith Ridgway Harper Perennial, £7.99
I'd love to dismiss this novel as pretentious, arty, wannabe Paul Auster-meets-Franz Kafka nonsense. Would love to, because it's irritating; can't, because it's just too darned good. The irritation turns out to be the kind of slight derailment caused by seriously good, seriously original writing. It's exacerbated by the fact that the narrator, a freelance illustrator, is going through - well, what? A nervous breakdown? A bad day? Life? The book begins when this unnamed anti-hero starts poking the body of a dead mouse with his biro. From there on, the ride is exhilarating, amusing, puzzling and, sometimes, sickening. "A writhing in the darkness," pronounces our narrator gloomily. But then, he's unhinged. Isn't he? One way or another, major respect to Ridgway. - Arminta Wallace
Catherine the Great and Potemkin: the Imperial Love Affair Simon Sebag Montefiore Phoenix, £10.99
A reissue of Potemkin: Prince of Princes under a new title, this exhaustive (and exhausting - 560 pages plus) biography makes one wonder why the publishers are having a second go. If 18th-century dynastic Russian history is your thing, this is for you. It's a rattling good read, with a cast of characters as extensive as War and Peace, and provides a vivid panorama of the period. Sex, love, power, war and conquests (of all kinds) are there on a vast scale but the two main protagonists are largely unlikable (Potemkin had a particular partiality for his nieces and Catherine's rampant sexual appetites knew no bounds). Potemkin greatly extended the Russian Empire and unwittingly created problems that much later generations are having to confront. But that's another story, and the much different one that Sebag Montefiore tells here is certainly told with great verve and a stunning command of his sources. - Brian Maye