Car Fever

Cast your mind back ten years or so, and you may recall what a spectacular cultural phenomenon Top Gear used to be. There was the TV show, to start with: at its peak, more than eight million people decided that was how they wanted to spend their Sunday evenings. And then there were the feature-length special shows, the live show, and endless merchandise and tie-ins. Not bad for a magazine programme based on middle-aged men reviewing the latest cars. You can point to various reasons why it exploded the way it did: the subsequent success of The Grand Tour while the new Top Gear seasons have floundered shows that producer Andy Wilman was probably a big part of it; the way the show kept throwing in new ideas, running jokes and celebrity appearances doubtless drawing many in. But, when it comes down to it, I think most would agree that the show's three presenters were the main draw, for their banter, sometimes very interesting historical pieces, and the way they all balanced each other so nicely. There was the brash, bombastic Jeremy Clarkson for the red-blooded, red meat-eating views who were in it for the supercars and explosive stunts; the cute and cuddly Richard Hammond for the families looking for some light entertainment. And then the reserved, cultured James May for anyone left who was looking to learn something about the nuts-and-bolts engineering behind the various machines they showed off.

All three had their roots in straightforward journalism; all three, their TV fame notwithstanding, wrote for some of the UK's biggest newspapers and specialist magazines. And I've read writing by all of them, which is why I feel qualified to say that Captain Slow is the best writer by some way. Yes, Jezza and Hamster could be brilliant at times - Clarkson's article on what he would do if elected Mayor of London is one of my all time favourites - but May takes a much more measured, intellectual approach that means, taken as a whole, his body of work is a lot more consistent. Car Fever collects together writing from his columns in Top Gear magazine and the Daily Telegraph as Top Gear was entering its golden age, from around 2006 to 2010, and while cars are mentioned in some way in every article, they are often far from the primary focus. Instead, we are treated to May's insights on such things as government transport policy, interior decorating, the French and Christmas carols.

And the writing is just splendid at times. While I can't claim to have read everything they've ever written, it's hard to imagine either of his colleagues using terms like "louche" or "rent asunder", or quoting Samuel Johnson or W.B. Yeats. Or the Bible. In one piece, in hindsight quite possibly written after a day sampling a few too many Californian wines while filming his series with Oz Clarke, May ramps up the virtuosity to dizzying heights. Forget the motoring press, how many journalists full stop could get away with dropping such words as "ruched", "for'ard" or "paean" into what is, after all, a review of an American mobile home? But the fact is, May is just as much a perfectionist when working with the English language as he is when rebuilding or restoring a car, and it's hard not to be caught up in his enthusiasm for romanticising the engineering feats of the past and present, whether good or disastrous.

They say you should never meet your heroes: I've been told by a motoring journalist who has met James that, nerdy exterior notwithstanding, he's actually quite arrogant and opinionated, and I have to say that side of him can simmer in the background sometimes here, particularly when attacking Alistair Darling's ill-advised road schemes. But that doesn't detract what is ultimately an engaging, beautifully written and, yes, amusing collection of short-form journalism.

4.5/5

Been a while since the writer of the book also provided the song, so... yeah.