I probably read this book too quickly; it's a journey best taken slowly. This is a witty, Scottish nationalist view of the kitsch English monarchy, and of the cosy little club of Westminster, that coterie of so-called journalists, the corporations and politicians they serve, all willfully blind to the needs and aspirations of folk north of the Wash. I enjoyed the ride, sometimes hilarious, sometimes bitter and at other times deeply vexing, though Nairn is sometimes obscure, strident and his reasoning a little hard to follow. But his clever intuitive leaps serve a vital purpose quite aside from venting the anger underlying his writing; he reveals the absurdity of the royals, the self-serving nature of the English political classes and the immense service the Tories have undertaken on behalf of the SNP. If anyone is responsible for the imminent breakup of the UK, it's Mr Cameron and his supporters.