Notes From the Sofa

by Raymond Briggs

From Raymond Briggs, the beloved and bestselling author of The Snowman, comes his first book in a decade, now in an updated edition with new columns and illustrations. Notes from the Sofa is a beautifully illustrated compilation of reflections on life and what it means to get older. Raymond dips into his past to remind us of scrumping apples, National Service, party lines on telephones, the torment of cinema organs and the endless obsession with laxatives, alongside his take on the absurdities of the modern world.

This collection gives us warm and memorable sketches of Raymond’s life now and reminds us why he is one of our best-loved storytellers.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Biography, Humor

285 pages, Kindle Edition

First published November 5, 2015

About the author

Raymond Redvers Briggs was an English illustrator, cartoonist, graphic novelist, and author who had achieved critical and popular success among adults and children. He was best known for his story "The Snowman", which is shown every Christmas on British television in cartoon form and on the stage as a musical.

His first three major works, Father Christmas, Father Christmas Goes on Holiday (both featuring a curmudgeonly Father Christmas who complains incessantly about the "blooming snow"), and Fungus the Bogeyman, were in the form of comics rather than the typical children's-book format of separate text and illustrations. The Snowman (1978) was entirely wordless, and illustrated with only pencil crayons. The Snowman became Briggs' best-known work when in 1982 it was made into an Oscar nominated animated cartoon, that has been shown every year since on British television.

Briggs continued to work in a similar format, but with more adult content, in Gentleman Jim (1980), a sombre look at the working class trials of Jim and Hilda Bloggs, closely based on his parents. When the Wind Blows (1982) confronted the trusting, optimistic Bloggs couple with the horror of nuclear war, and was praised in the British House of Commons for its timeliness and originality. The topic was inspired after Briggs watched a Panorama documentary on nuclear contingency planning, and the dense format of the page was inspired by a Swiss publisher's miniature version of Father Christmas. This book was turned into a two-handed radio play with Peter Sallis in the male lead role, and subsequently an animated film, featuring John Mills and Peggy Ashcroft. The Tin-Pot Foreign General and the Old Iron Woman (1984) was a scathing denunciation of the Falklands War. However, Briggs continued to produce humour for children, in works such as the Unlucky Wally series and The Bear.

He was recognized as The Children's Author of the Year in 1993 by the British Book Awards. His graphic novel Ethel and Ernest, which portrayed his parents' 41-year marriage, won Best Illustrated Book in the 1999 British Book Awards.

Reviews

[Judith Johnson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Raymond Briggs’ picture books for children have given our little family much merriment, our favourite being Fungus the Bogeyman. My 4 year old granddaughter is fond of the pop-up version!

I really enjoyed these musings - in turn humorous, poignant and curmudgeonly.

Good man, that Raymond!

[Chris Malone · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this because Raymond Briggs died. It's brilliant! I laughed (behind my mask) more than I have for years (in hospital waiting room, dentists ...). He would have liked that. Genius.

[Skyler · Rating 4 out of 5]

I gave this five stars because it was almost exactly what I love to read. And yet. There is the one short essay about how the author and his partner like to go to town to look at and (one hopes quietly) ridicule fat people by watching them eat and calling them names (quietly?). It is depressing that two people in their 70s would find this amusing. After another day of thinking about it, I had to remove a star because that one essay is just plain mean. I'm sad about it. I can guarantee the fat people know they are being watched and judged.

[John Maynard · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think you have to be a certain age to love this book. I am and I do. Briggs’ collected articles from The Oldie are reflective, poignant and, above all, fun. No one teaches you about life in old age, but Briggs’ thoughts and feelings I can really identify with. My eyesight is not so good these days, but this is the first book I have read properly for many years. A really good read.

[Jonathan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a selection of articles Raymond Briggs has done for The Oldie Magazine. The subject matter is broad, but linked by age and aging, and memories. Sometimes he is grumpy, occasionally poignant, but mostly he is a poker of fun at what is, has been and possibly will be.

[Jane · Rating 3 out of 5]

One for the Curmudgeon shelf, if you have such a thing. Briggs brings to light long-forgotten aspects of British life from his childhood, and rails about modernity. Done with somewhat heavy-handed humor, but mostly amusing.

[Jane Wilson-Howarth · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is collection of largely unrelated anecdotes that would make great waiting room reading. They are amusing, light-hearted and pleasant but didn't draw me in to anywhere near finish reading the whole book.

[christine spurrier · Rating 3 out of 5]

I thought this book was Raymond Briggs autobiography when I picked it up so was a bit disappointed to begin with but when I started reading it I actually enjoyed it

[Chris Bull · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pushing as on Oldie myself

Always a fan of Briggs. He and Raoul Dahl have always defined coming of age in Great Britain of the early 1950s

[Chris · Rating 3 out of 5]

My cup runneth over. It went all down my trousers.

“Award-winning author of The Snowman” it says on the cover, but it could easily have added Father Christmas (1973), Fungus the Bogeyman (1977) and a few other Raymond Briggs titles which have delighted children of all ages.

But his graphic novels, distinctive and idiosyncratically British, have also included the more serious Ethel & Ernest (1998, loosely based on his parents’ lives) and the dark and pessimistic When the Wind Blows (1982) in which Everyman and Everywoman Jim and Hilda Bloggs try to survive a nuclear attack launched by the Soviet Union.

What then is Notes from the Sofa? Touted as “his first book in a decade” it started life as a compilation of short pieces he wrote for 'The Oldie' magazine, enlarged two years later with additional material to 189 selected pieces newly illustrated in his familiar style. In keeping with the magazine’s editorial stance these occasionally have ‘grumpy old man’ vibes, but there is more to them than mere curmudgeon.

Old age is another country; we do things differently here. — ‘Digitalis.’

Look, what can I say about this that isn’t vacuous and obvious? In this series of sketches Briggs comes across as a funny man – or at least someone to whom funny things happen – but he’s also serious at times, self-deprecating, and generally filled with what he calls ‘oldie angst’. Much of it is looking back to an age long gone (he was born in 1934, surviving to reach 88) so, for example, we have his experiences of being evacuated to the primitive cottage of a pair of aunts during World War 2, with reminiscences about the Cycling Touring Club towards the end of the war, then deferment from National Service long after the war and so fortunately missing combat in the Korean War.

But there are also humorous episodes aplenty: imitating David Hockney’s Yorkshire vowels in a restaurant without realising the Great Man was sitting behind him; hearing about how easy it was to get a private telephone landline in 60s America, unlike in the UK, and thus nearly becoming a free market Tory overnight; forming a bond with a random chicken that adopts him; keeping a wedge in his man-bag to stop café tables wobbling …

And then, the thoughts of Raymond (as his grandkids are encouraged call him) gradually progress from a gentle perspective of ironic nostalgia to one expressing full-blown perplexity: explaining pre-decimal coinage to uncomprehending school kids is one thing, realising that once customary practices like drink-driving used to be acceptable is altogether another. “What are we doing today that in twenty years time we will look back upon with disbelief, even disgust?” he observes with some wonder, while considering junk food, obesity and the cost to the nation.

But mostly he oscillates between the man shouting at the clouds in the middle of the high street to a modern Diogenes in his barrel philosophising on the ways of the world:

Dinner parties. God spare us. Did we ever do them, once upon a time? Yes, we did. Why? Did we really enjoy them? Or was it just a habit, an obligation, almost a duty? — ‘Socialising: why make a meal out of it?’

This is a book to dip into. Or maybe to read from cover to cover, but only three articles at a time every day (it would take you just over two months, or sixty-three days, this way). It’s something to keep by your bedside, perhaps, or for the guest room (if you still entertain visitors), or the shelf in the spare loo – though I don’t really recommend this last unhygienic practice.

Better still, leave it in your will to your grandchildren, great-nephews or great-nieces, as an insight into what obsessed an older generation, or as a dire warning of what’s yet to come for them.

[Drew Canole · Rating 1 out of 5]

John Maynard, a Goodread's user, notes "I think you have to be a certain age to love this book." I think that's accurate.

The old curmudgeon Briggs wrote a bunch of daily articles for a magazine.

"This collection features the best pieces from Briggs' regular column -- 'Notes from the Sofa' -- in The Oldie, Richard Ingrams' humorous monthly magazine".

Some nice drawings, but not many.

Sometimes I'll read something have just have no clue what the point of the writing is. It's not bad writing, I just have no context. The 1-star rating is in no way an indictment of the book, just a reflection of my enjoyment.

The book notes that this is Briggs's first book in 10 years. I think that's not a coincidence! The cynic in me wants to think this was only published because it had been 10 years - the market was primed to buy a Briggs book.

[Marianne · Rating 4 out of 5]

A must for anyone who loves Raymond Briggs’ illustrations. It’s a compilation of his contributions to ‘The Oldie’ magazine, so it is a bit disjointed- Ethel and Ernest is definitely a more cohesive read. However, Briggs’ humorous illustrations and observations make it well worth persevering. Many of his articles refer to the perils of old age but he also reflects on his life- scrumping apples, his art school experiences and National Service. Simultaneously grumpy and rather charming, like Briggs’ Bah Humbug Father Xmas, ‘Notes from the Sofa’ is entertaining for the middle aged and ‘Oldies’ alike!

[Robin Braysher · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've never read 'The Oldie' - although I suppose I am in its demographic - but I found myself in tune with some of Briggs's frustrations and bemusement with the modern world (I should note that I am very much younger than he was when he wrote these articles so, in his eyes: 'Yoof'). I had no idea he was a writer (other than of his beautifully illustrated books), but enjoyed these pieces on all manner of subjects: some grumpy, some moving, some thought-provoking and some just funny. And you get one of his charming sketches with each one.

[Esther · Rating 3 out of 5]

The national treasure. A chance secondhand find, a collection of columns he'd written for The Oldie during his early 80s. Lots of fabulous grumpy befuddlement, sample quote: 'what the bloomin' heck is latte art?'

[Moira Macfarlane · Rating 3 out of 5]

Een boek vol columns die Raymond Briggs (GB, 1934-2022) schreef voor The Oldie Magazine, over de dingen die hij tegenkomt bij het ouder worden dus. Niet altijd even vrolijk, wat ook helemaal niet hoeft. Soms grappig, soms ook niet ;-), soms een stukje voorland waar ik liever nog maar niet aan denk, vaak ook interessant door de herinneringen die hij ophaalt aan vroeger.

'He who is not anxious has no imagination.'

[Linda Reading · Rating 4 out of 5]

A gentle, quaint read.

[Mrs A Luscombe · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant

This book speaks for all us oldies! Thank you, Raymond Briggs for telling everyone now it is to be old in the modern world

[Sue Burden · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wonderful ramblings from a man of a different generation.

[Jill Schroeder · Rating 3 out of 5]

These are sweet and silly, little bits of Raymond Briggs, lovely

[Sophia · Rating 3 out of 5]

A 25p purchase from a charity shop. This is a collection of columns from 'The Oldie' magazine with some nice illustrations. I loved the layout was a 2 column format and found this easy to dip in and out of. The subject matter varied in appeal to me, but overall a pleasant read.

[Michael Rhode · Rating 3 out of 5]

A decade or so of curmudgeonly nostalgia, but hey, it's Raymond Briggs.

[Kalwinder Dhindsa · Rating 5 out of 5]

A very enjoyable read. Read it in one sitting.

[Wilde Sky · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book contains an odd collection of memories and musings on old age / modern life.
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In a few places I found this book interesting but I suspect it may only be appreciated by people over 75.

[Aaron Badgley · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is comprised of articles Raymond Briggs have written for a magazine. Sometimes witty, sometimes right on the mark, and sometimes he contradicts himself. But it is all Raymond Briggs.

[Rebecca · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mr Briggs's children's books were a huge part of my childhood, so I was very excited to discover this very recent, autobiographical book. Sadly, I think Mr Briggs is far better suited to writing children's stories than recounting his own. It has its moments - particularly his interactions with his beloved pet chicken - which are funny and charming, but the book didn't really hold my interest due to its slightly rambling nature. Great illustrations, though!