A flawed offering and a welcome delight

Shane Warne: Portrait of a flawed genius; 215pp £16.99

"I don't like it how people can do books on you," Shane Warne told me once. "Anyone can write a book on anyone, I don't like that law. I don't like that people can do things about your life without consent, I don't think that's fair."

Well, he's unlikely to like Shane Warne: Portrait of a Flawed Genius, then; the latest in a long line of books attempting to depict Warne "warts'n'all", especially as Wilde hasn't interviewed him for this book.

But the subject's likes and dislikes aside, what about the reader appeal? The blurb and the PR trumpets how well-researched the book is, and the quotes, borrowed from all manner of different sources, certainly cut seamlessly into the narrative, which is brutal, yet elegant and compassionate.

Wilde looks at the history of the game, too, and how leg spin was a dying art, using just enough information, and overall stats, to remain entertaining. He brings his story together masterfully with corset-tight prose, but sadly, through using old materials what emerges is an all-too-familiar portrait, albeit a slick one.

Still, it's well written and rattles along... once you get past the opening few pages, that is; which are odd to say the least. "You are opening the batting with Andrew Strauss", says Wilde, but I'm not. "You scurry down the pitch to punch gloves with Strauss." No, I don't. I wondered if somehow this was an ill-flagged foreword by Marcus Trescothick, but it wasn't; it was a device that was too clever for its own good.

But that's a minor quibble. As with meeting Warne in real life, it's impossible not to be drawn in by his page persona and if you're looking for a throwaway read, look no further. Jenny Thompson

Silent Revolutions: Writings on Cricket History; 324pp £8.99

© Cricinfo Ltd

There are some cricket writers whose work is readable again and again. Gideon Haigh has built up a library of outstanding books and his latest contribution, Silent Revolutions, is a follow-up to Game for Anything, a compilation of a variety of his work where the topics range from Bodyline to the Ashes to Bradman.

Cricket offers many diverse areas to explore and Haigh covers them with insight, wit and in-depth historical context. Particularly worth a read is the 'Odd men in' section where Haigh delves into some of game's more unusual and less understood characters, coming out with revealing profiles and fascinating anecdotes. The piece on Bert Ironmonger is a prime example: "Part of Ironmonger's life, it is worth recalling, was entirely extraordinary. As a boy he lost half his left forefinger in a chaff-cutter on the family farm; his sister probably saved his life by plunging the copiously bleeding hand into a bag of flour."

The range of articles - from website pieces to newspaper articles and magazine features - emphasises how Haigh's writing works on many levels and to many audiences. It isn't only the players, matches and tours which are covered. Articles on bats, boots and boxes are included in a section called 'Kit and Kaboodle' which houses such gems as this from a 2004 article in The Age. "The protector's insertion has tended to be a private moment...No cricket accessory so essential has a history so obscure. Next year, we know, marks the sesquicentenary of the first unambiguous reference to a 'private guard'..."

On bookshelves, which are crammed with a quantity of cricket books which often neglect the need for quality, this selection of writing is a welcome addition. Andrew McGlashan