Bill of wealth

Giving, written and read by Bill Clinton (6hrs 16mins unabridged, Random House, £16.99)

This is a good book in the literal sense which, if everyone who read it took the author's advice, would almost certainly make the world a better place. The problem with six hours and 16 minutes of unabridged charity is that, even when it is written and read by the charismatic ex-president, after a while it just washes over you. It was less compassion than worthiness fatigue that overtook me by the end - too bad Clinton never met the waspish Alice Roosevelt Longworth, the daughter of another US president who famously said: "If you can't say something good about someone, sit right here beside me."

Clinton's litany of philanthropic role models are either so phenomenally wealthy (Bill Gates, for instance, whose foundation spends billions of dollars annually on healthcare in Africa and India, and the same again developing a new Aids vaccine) or so phenomenally influential (remember Bono's successful campaign to persuade the G8 members to write off Third World debt), that you are left wondering how you, as an individual, fit into the frame. Easily. If you can't give money, give your time or your knowhow or even - like the woman who started Locks of Love - your hair for children suffering from alopecia. Bread for the World, the Pan-African Green Network or Operation Hope: choose your charity and offer your services and, if you can't decide, give it to an organisation you trust. There is always the Clinton Foundation, whose third global initiative earlier this month hired a suite at the Manhattan Sheraton, invited a bunch of people such as Chad Hurley, co-founder of YouTube, Larry Brilliant from Google and Carlos Slim Helú (the world's richest man, according to Fortune magazine), and raised $10bn in three days for world poverty, health, education and climate change. Pity the legendary Clinton magnetism doesn't come over on audio. Never mind, forget the droning voice. Just remember the smile and, above all, the message.

More Time for Politics, written and read by Tony Benn (4hrs 30mins, abridged, Random House, £14.99)

In old age Tony Benn, 82, tells his daughter Melissa: "You're loved but you're also controlled, you're marginalised and you're weaker." "Oh, that's just the position of women all the time," she replies. There's more in this eighth (and probably last) instalment of his diaries, 2001-2007, about his family, his health, his boiler, his leaking roof and his thoughts on growing old - it is, after all, six years since he retired as an MP. Still, if you thought there'd be less politics you've reckoned without his tireless campaigning against the Iraq war, his presidency of the Stop the War Coalition, his visit to Baghdad to interview Saddam Hussein and countless media appearances to air his anti-war views. Growing old seems to make taking his grandchildren to see Harry Potter as important as being invited by Richard Branson to stand in at the last minute for Kofi Annan at a pan-African summit. I've always had a soft spot for Tony Benn, but then I've always had a soft spot for Eeyore.

Littlejohn's Britain, by Richard Littlejohn, read by Andrew Woodall (3hrs, abridged, Random House, £13.99)

If Glenda Slag were a bloke she'd be called Richard Littlejohn. I wish, in this limited space, I could do justice to this latest collection of Daily Mail tirades against Blair, Blunkett, Kimberly Quinn ("a Corgi-registered bunny boiler"), the Traffic Taliban, TV shows about anal tightening, TV shows called Celebrity Hell Camp featuring "the usual cast of saddos, sickos, has-beens, wannabes, neverwillbes, assorted mental cases, exhibitionists, Rebecca Loos's private parts" and, of course, the Guardianistas. "Borrow a copy, don't buy one, it'll only encourage them." I bet Tony Benn would love it.