At this time of year you might be looking around for coffee-table books. Be warned: this is a stout-oak-dining-table book at the very least. Rig up a block and tackle in case you ever want to put it on a high book shelf.

Expert opinion varies on the best way to learn about computers. Some hesitate 'tween certainty and doubt.

Many have it that buying a micro and getting on with it is the best course, and when the price of a book approaches the price of a micro they have a good case.

Of course, your megabuck purchase of a ZX81 won't immediately give you a grasp of computerised multiphasic screening, holographic disks, and time-division multiplexors, but you'll probably find something to do with it.

Nor will it give you a lavishly illustrated encyclopaedia of computing - although the ZX81's documentation was very good for its era. But the book flatters to deceive. Well laid out, sensibly ordered, and full of colour, it is superficial throughout. Perhaps 877 pages aren't enough. The book aims to cover so much ground, with so many subjects whisked in and out like a time-shang mainframe, that it becomes taxing - like the party game where you have to memorise a dozen objects on a briefly exposed tray.

On top of this, there is the unbending American-ness of the authors. This means that the style is irritating and the approach to the subject less critical than it should be. The authors claim that they aren't interested in glorifying the computer, but when they move on to future uses, their brief mention of computers as `law enforcement` tools makes no reference to the abuses possible in this increasingly controversial field.

If you really think you need this book, join a public library and wait for it to turn up there.

David Guest