"Alice Munro always gets to the thing inside me that knows, with certainty, that this is my one life. There is a penetrating sense of ultimate aloneness in her writing. And in just a sentence she can turn from the present to the future and then all the way into the past, making the reader feel as if they are experiencing the sweep of life as moments accumulate, and then double back and reconsider. It presents at first as just a drip drip drip… and then before you know it, you’re standing in a waterfall."

"If I were stuck on a desert island, I’d find it hard to let go of this record! It encapsulates every part of the perfect beauty of classical music, particularly Bach, yet it uses that with electronic synthesiser. It’s a totally new world, bringing the future and I think it’s fantastic. It also featured on A Clockwork Orange, which featured the 9th Symphony by Beethoven and is also one of my all-time favourite records. But that wasn’t on Switched On Bach, so I had to source the origin of that later."

"This book offers the best scientific guide to anti-aging and the perplexing question of why we age in the first place; in the future, Blackburn’s work on how DNA degrades over time could stand up as the key breakthrough in the field. The fact that Blackburn won the Nobel Prize in Medicine in 2009 testifies to her important findings, but it is also a symbolic victory for all the women who did major historic work on DNA, brain chemistry, space exploration, and other fields without receiving their due."

"Terry Gilliam’s masterpiece proves he is the only true heir to Fellini (and Salvador Dalì as well). Brazil is over-the-top, terrifying, funny, and moving. A hilarious and violent dystopian tale of the future using elements of the past, it strangely seems more and more like our present. Terrorism, surveillance, cosmetic surgery, hacking, and authoritarian control: Gilliam’s prescience is astounding. Ian Holm turns in one of cinema’s great supporting roles as Mr. Kurtzman, Jonathan Pryce’s sniveling and cowardly boss. And it has one of the most crushing and haunting endings in movie history."

"A haze-filled dream world of a novel about the survivors of nuclear fallout attempting to rebuild their lives and society. In my head, Fiskadoro mingled with old 1960s movie themes of young women growing up in small towns, wanting to leave their hometowns behind and be somewhere, anywhere, and someone, anyone, else. Maybe they’d glimpsed a highway billboard that advertised clothes, a car, a golden future, a possibility. Maybe, thanks to the machine of consumerism, they felt they were missing out on something they hadn’t even known existed."