Driving Like Crazy by PJ O’Rourke
Atlantic, £17.99
Think about writers on cars and Jeremy Clarkson probably springs to mind with his ability to combine informed opinion about motor vehicles with entertaining jokes and a talent to incite venom. He has the Marmite factor – you either love him or hate him. But I cannot think of anyone better to cite as an example of exemplary writing on automobiles (pause, in that pre-punchline Clarkson fashion) – until now.
Step forward – or, rather, drive forward – PJ O’Rourke, the journalist, author and self-proclaimed Republican Party Reptile, with his new book Driving Like Crazy and I can tell you he pushes Clarkson into the ditch with his wit, sarcasm and affection for motor cars and motorcycles. Like Clarkson, O’Rourke is prone to the divided opinion of the salty beef extract brigade, but he is what he has always been – a gunslinger with an itchy trigger finger and an eagle eye to hit his targets dead centre and explain his enthusiasms with genuine joy.
This is a superb collection of features he has written over the past three decades, along with some new pieces, and while his love of cars shines through, his famous bile for government and big business and interference in the motor industry and beyond maintains the famously acerbic O’Rourke trademark.
He loves the idea of the freedom of long road trips not ruined by those he calls the “Fun Suckers” who spend their time criticising, complaining and demonising cars and car owners. He enjoys speed and the open road and gets very irritated at the panic “every time a camel farts at an OPEC meeting”.
He brings passion and good humour to bear when describing his many adventures on the highways and trails. It is a thrilling ride in his company, one of those dangerous books to read in public if you get embarrassed about laughing out loud at an unexpected joke. He has also given the world some of the best chapter titles I have seen in a long time, including How to Drive Fast on Drugs, Getting Your Wing-Wang Squeezed and Not Spill Your Drink. Sorry, Jeremy, but this book really is top gear.
Joe Cushnan
