Books: He's got to be Joe King if he thinks Britain's really like that; Queenan Country (Picador, pounds 16.99 JOE QUEENAN.

Byline: LORNE JACKSON

FEW things will force a seasoned journalist to move from the comfort of his desk.

Foreign warfare's fine for young whippersnappers and whipper reporters, beaver-eager to build a reckless, roving reputation.

But war is a grubby pastime. Most of it takes place in the chilly outdoors, far away from pretty secretaries, plump expense accounts and the nearest bar. And with all those bullets whizzing round, it tends to be ever so slightly dangerous.

However, there's one thing that will make even the most jaded journo froth with feisty fervour. A darned good pun. Any reporter worth his salt, pepper or any other condiment you care to mention, will be perfectly willing to scour the planet searching for the perfect play on words.

So full marks to American journalist Joe Queenan, who travelled all the way to England so he could publish a book called Queenan Country.

Spot what he did? See, his name's Queenan - and Britain's got a Queen.

Queen and Country... Queenan Country! Geddit? Great.

However, Joe still had one problem. He had the snappy title. Now all he needed was a few thousand words of book to hang it on. Which is where his difficulties begin. Queenan is a lazy traveller, in mind and body. He has no intention of slogging around the country meeting people, discovering what the UK's all about.

Instead, he's content with making a few brief jaunts, then regurgitating the usual stale cliches and prejudices Americans tend to have about Brits.

For instance, English people are all repressed and cold. We use language to avoid saying what we mean, and we do everything we can to avoid revealing our true feelings.

Queenan writes: 'By and large they would prefer to sit in a corner and be left alone with their shepherd's pie.

'They prefer to converse only when it is absolutely necessary, and will not engage strangers in conversations unless a gun is put to their heads.'

What rubbish. Or perhaps what I mean is: 'Gadzooks, balderdash and piffle!' At least that's what I'd probably say if I lived on Planet Queenan.

Even the sloppy reference to shepherd'spie is telling. If the author had genuinely spent time observing the natives, he'd have realised that our national dish isn't a bland mix of mince and potato. It's a hot and husky chicken tikka masala.

Queenan didn't have to travel all the way to the UK to rattle off most of his comments. It would have been easier to have skimmed a few dog-eared copies of PG Wodehouse and Evelyn Waugh in his local library.

Travel books often tell us more about the traveller and the world he comes from than the place visited. This is thecase with Queenan. He believes England is trapped in the past, but it's actually the author who suffers that fate.

The book cover is an homage to The Beatles' Abbey Road album, where the Fab Four stroll across a zebra crossing. Abbey Road was released nearly 40 years ago. Couldn't the author and his publisher have found an up-to-date image?

It's similar to a British journalist writing a travelogue about modern America and putting a shot of Frank Sinatra on the coverWhen aging Stateside authors write about Britain, they often use the exercise as an excuse to show how hip and trendy they are compared with fading fuddy-duddiesfromthemothercountry. But the truth is that most Americans are more deeply reactionary than Brits. The States is the status quo.

Queenan Country starts with an excellent pun.Unfortunately,thecopy is soaked in that less fortunate favourite of journalists the world over.

The dull and dusty clich

CAPTION(S):

YANKS A LOT: Queenan's book, based on an obvious royal pun, trots out the cliched view of a country stuck in the past