In My My My Life Alasdair Paterson treats us to a cornucopia of existential titbits, real or imaginary - from questions of pirate and Pictish identity to riffs on twilight and the twilight years, via an involuntary appearance in a Breughel painting, the poetic output of a mad king and dinner in a Titanic-themed restaurant. And much more... The smouldering heap throws off some sparks of native wit still, and one can only regret what great things might have been done had the author - at a vulnerable and unreflective age - not been seduced by thetrans-border mirage of adventures with regularly replenished bank deposits, freethinking in humid boudoirs and gaudy acts of worship, happy hours, roads less travelled, regional cheeses, spinsters cycling a wee bit the worse for drink through misty meadows to evensong, to say nothing of those modishly alleged cellular urgings to widen the gene pool... -The West Lothian Presbyter Beware, Mr Paterson! The Stornoway Puffin has its eye on you! -Stornoway Puffin