Culture

Roy Kerridge is conservative in attitude, he loves the works of Kipling and he enjoys the company of those whom he describes as of the African diaspora but would rather not call blacks. His affection for that race may have originated with his West African stepfather; he has certainly spent much of his time in the coloured districts of London. And I remember a previous book of his recounting his travels in parts of the southern United States, which appealed to him mainly because of their history of black enslavement. It is also relevant to point out that Kerridge is physically quite small: he has a round, studious, bespectacled face and a slight stammer, and he carries his belongings in a plastic shopping bag.

There he is on the cover, our handsome 57-year-old Boys' Own adventurer, probably doing a piece to camera, cheered on by the locals who have come along to revel in the BBC's long-awaited liberation of Kabul last November. Why couldn't he have arrived a few years earlier, they're probably wondering. It could all have been so much easier. No beastly Taliban. No need even for America's B52s and the Northern Alliance. There was always a far better and infinitely more elegant solution to the interminable Afghan conundrum. Send for Simpson. Of the BBC's big guns, they don't come any bigger than Simpson. Revolution in Serbia? Put Simpson on a plane. Trouble in Tiananmen Square? Simpson's got it covered.

Perhaps it is not a good idea to call Dervla Murphy 'redoubtable'. She is a strident anti-militarist and might not enjoy being given the sort of name that could so easily belong to an old dreadnought or hunter-killer submarine. But the 71-year-old cycling grandmother can hardly be thought of as anything less. While half the population of her age retreat into a world of sheltered accommodation and televised snooker, she has opted instead to pedal against the steep mountain inclines of the Balkans. Needless to say, the terrain proves to be by no means the most arduous or dangerous part of the odyssey. Like anyone who has witnessed the humanitarian disaster of that part of the world over the last decade, Dervla Murphy has some strong views about the politics that underscored it.

After several acclaimed novels, including last year's Pulitzer prize-winning Empire Falls, Richard Russo has now produced a volume of short stories. However, the qualities which endear the novels to their readers - a wry sense of humour, vivid characterisation and the sense of lives being lived over time - are less apparent here; the shorter form has created a sterner and more uncomfortable writer. In the title story, 'the whore's child' is an elderly Belgian nun who joins the narrator's creative-writing class. Sister Ursula writes several accounts of her own life, the unchanging details of which are that she is the daughter of a prostitute, and that she was sent to a convent by a father she hardly knew and has spent the rest of her life worshipping.