We should write about books again!

I picked up Evelyn Waugh's Sword of Honour trilogy last Friday as I had a trainride home & books keep accompanying me back down to Yorkshire (Labyrinth, Tractors..Ukranian) but I can't seem to get started on them or have them hold my attention for long enough.

Waugh isn't entirely new to me - it was one of the texts for Literatures of World War II in 3rd year. But with it being 3 volumes long, I only got part-way through Book II last time so I'm recapping the bits I remembered (soldier, Halbadiers, ends up in Scotland) & bringing back to life everything else I had forgotten (quite a lot). This time I hope to finish it.
(And it's an Everyman classic, mmm ... cream-coloured pages, yum. I love Everyman books - they feel like such a treat.) Hopefully it will absorb me enough, along with my patchwork, to keep from pacing the floors at home this Christmas.

  I've also decided that I will use the New Year to finish off Penelope, the last chapter of Ulysses - making good use of my pseudo-Scottishness with having two days off & thus bringing my four-year journey to an end. I'm quite looking forward to it.

I've also had The Magus recommended to me as a post-Ulyssses pick-up and there's Gideon Mack waiting for my attention and some serious JS Foer exploration to be done too! I was contemplating re-reading Northern Lights, prior to seeing the Golden Compass, which I visited before but not read properly.

I read a teenage novel the other evening, one of Iona's called Dear Nobody by Berlie Doherty ... I used to adore her Granny was a buffer girl when I was at Middle School, it was quite in keeping with my historical/romantic nature then :) I might write on that next - it did use He Wishes For The Cloths of Heaven after all!

I'm still ambling through both Yancey & Ovid but I did recently read High Fidelity on recommendation ...

High Fidelity: It started as part of a 'mixed-media conversation' with Carl during the Fringe where we were talking about asides to the audience/camera (like Branagh's Iago in Othello on film) & how it's more of a theatrical device & isn't employed that much for film. Carl mentioned that it's used in High Fidelity & it works ... so I figured book first (always, always - unless there's a time constraint), then film.
   The way Carl talked about HF made me want to know more ... Rob, the main character seemed to be either screwed up or screwing up other people (intentionally, or not). Carl perceives the character (at least, from the film) as working through his issues & is also interested in how Robert wants to portray himself as a victim, even if that doesn't match the events we, the audience/readers, can see unfolding.
  He also said that there's a sense of improvement in how Rob recognises his misinterpretations & by adjusting his behaviour, begins to redeem himself.

I wasn't entirely sold on the novel's ending ... I thought Robert's impulsive behaviour towards the end undercut the love resolution somewhat. But he does have an epiphany of sorts & gets his life back on track, even if it's done in a passive way.

In the end, I liked the book more than I expected to. (I think the whole laddish protagonist concept put me off - like Will in AAB, I though it'd be more of the same.) It did make me laugh out loud at times but equally it also made me grimace at Rob's behaviour & thoughts too. A level of selfishness & lack of compassion that I just did not like.

I enjoyed how the book was situated, very much 'of the time' in the decade & all the musical references were gorgeous :) I think I'll probably go back & read it again though, in a year or so.

Now I want to read Amis' The Rachel Papers which is meant to be similar but with a wilfully corrupt male protagonist who brings about the girl's downfall. I think it could be interesting to see how the two compare ... Amis' protagonist sounds to be much darker and more Machiavellian - it might make me like Robert more!
____________

For HF then,  
Overall, it sits at a high ***
- I don't love it but I don't necessarily loathe it. I quite enjoyed it.
It's better than AAB as it reads more intelligently.
- I think having music at its centre gives it a heart which helps provide Rob with the emotional depth that would otherwise be lacking if the reader only had his actions to take into account.
- Fun *** ... it worked, was funny & it engaged me emotionally.
- Novelty *** ... Hornby is the 'good author in the overpopulated genre'. Enough said.
- Plot *** ... Basic premise but done well
(esp. 'the journey of redemption', delving back into the past etc).

Dialect & Desire | Lady Chatterley's Lover

Lady Chatterley's Lover did sneak in first, after all and Thor asked me to write about it. Fortunately for you all, I think, I'm a bit tired so I don't have my literary critic (Wordy Git) head on - which means it might be a bit more of a basic, better reasoning as to why I enjoyed it - rather than a socio-economic-feminist rant. 

LCL was actually something of a self-prescribed antidote as I had recently finished another Lawrencian classic, Women In Love, which I'd picked up in December & had been reading on & off since. 

As you know, I like to suffer a bit through my reading - to feel challenged or provoked ... fulfilled enough in what I've read & the time invested in the read. 

WiL was that kind of a read. It's quite heavy-going at times especially as one of the characters, Birkin, is a self-portrait of Lawrence so he provides a mouthpiece for lots of Lawrencian thoughts & ideas. And the homoeroticism is a bit odd in its portrayal - it's manifested as (repressed) desire. 

I even went as far to watch the film from the 70s, I think, to try & get more of a handle on what's going on in all the different love-entanglements - which was enjoyable, but I still think it's odd. 

So I figured I would return to one of the classics I sped through in my teens, with the additional knowledge that Sean Bean plays the part of Mellors in the adaptation, hence replacing the Derbyshire accent in my head with the sexiest Yorkshire accent around. 

The advantage of returning to an old read is that you know you enjoyed it first time round but you've forgotten many of the reasons why - so the twists & turns of the narrative come as a pleasant surprise. 

Going back to LCL, I found that I enjoyed Lawrence's way of portraying his characters. 

Clifford, Connie's husband, is an aristocrat nearing the end of his line, recently returned from the war, glorified but injured. His disabled status is slowly driving Connie to distraction, as what began as an intelligent, balanced love-affair has resulted in a marriage of dependence, curtailing her own physical & creative freedom. 

Not only that, but Connie has also been typecast into playing the part of Lady Chatterley - a role in which she is not entirely at ease. 

Her initial love affair with Michaelis works for so long but it is the spark between herself & Mellors that really moves the plot forward. Mellors, the gamekeeper, has also returned from war and having grown up in the mining village, his service to an officer of rank has given him better ideas about his abilities and identity. Clifford sees this as a streak of impertinence like having ideas above his station, but this is what draws Connie in. 

Their love affair isn't romantic or straightforward - I think that's why I enjoy the novel so much. It's passionate and real, with miscommunication and misunderstandings. 

There's an instance where Connie & Mellors are having sex & she just perceives him with utter contempt - it's quite chilling. 

But what begins as lust for each other & escapism develops into something which is much more mutual and balanced .... it's like they don't need each other to exist, but that they chose to be together. 

They learn a lot about themselves from being together - Connie becomes stronger & more independent and Mellors finds a woman who can match his passion and his intellect. They are both prepared to fight and prepared to risk and to contend with the social 

fall-out on both sides. At the end, Mellors describes the spark between them in a beautiful poetic manner referring to the connection that they've unearthed.

_____________

Plot: ***
it's not the most radical storyline ever used (not now, anyway) but the narrative is strong & good. 

Fun: **
it's not a LOL kind of read, but Lawrence's way of looking sideways at characters within Soc is funny. 

Novelty: *** 

the only text I know to use the word cunt & somehow make it sound attractive, rather than ugly. 

Overall: **** 

... for the 'Pentecost flame'; for the passion, defiance and discovery of self.

The Real World

Sometimes it's better to stay silent. To keep your thoughts to yourself, or at least think before you act or say something. Often, sharing thoughts helps you clarify what you actually think. If not just that, sharing thoughts makes people carry each other's burden. Or, as Dave Eggers puts it, by sharing your thoughts with others, you create a lattice - the more people, the bigger the lattice - over which your burden will be diffused and thus your life will be easier. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius is just that. The author greatly embellishes - and is extremely aware of this - his memoirs into a grand allegory of suffering.


It was two weeks ago in a Sunday Observer that I read about Dave Eggers' new work, What Is The What. I thought I'd heard of this guy before - or his name is just really interesting - so thought I'd read the whole piece. His latest novel is again a memoir, now from the perspective of a Somali refugee, based on an actual refugee Eggers has interviewed in the past few months. The article hinted at his earlier A Heartbreaking Work... as an emotional account of personal loss combined with the troubles of suddenly having to bring up a child. For some reason it attracted me.

The style is reminiscent (or prescient?) of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (J.S. Foer), in the sense that the author needs to describe everything as much as possible and goes off on tangents never to return. As time passes, the book becomes obsessively self-involved and -referential, in a way that characters only seem to be suitable physical representations of the author's other self, whilst he is having a personal argument. Luckily, this generally leads from confusion to amusement, especially when a ten-year-old boy tells off his brother (Eggers) in a way only college students with a humanities major could.

The book is presented as a memoir, a work of non-fiction. It starts off with four near chronological chapters in which we learn about the deaths of Eggers' parents (both cancer, within a short time), and how he learnt to take care of his younger brother (Dave Eggers is in his early twenties, whereas his brother will grow from seven to early teens). Then, as acknowledged in the appropriate Acknowledgements section, glorification and embellishment take control, and any character development is lost as we're trapped inside the author's mind. Fortunately, the self-awareness-to-the-extreme saves the book from becoming completely impenetrable. Although pace is lost - as there is no clue as to where the story is going - the author guides us through interesting conversations (mostly with himself disguised as a friend or relative) and dilemmas, especially concerning writing a memoir.

This book is a hard one to place in a box. It involves thoroughly enjoyable sections - mainly Eggers' relation with his brother (or "son") and how they exploit their unfortunate situation - but at times the hypothetical situations or quasi-philosophical or post-modern self-aware and self-referential banter just becomes too much to enjoy. Thus the staggering genius:

I turn to the box.
The box is my mother, only smaller.
The box is not my mother.
Is the box my mother?
No.

Plot: **
Fun: ***
Novelty: *****
Overall: ***

I do think the book is worth more than three stars, but you will need to read the Rules and Suggestions, Preface, Acknowledgments, and Notes sections to fully appreciate the author's excellence!

Continuity

Another blog-in-bed post. I thought of reviewing The Testament of Gideon Mack, but I've just lent it to Mel, and think it's about time she writes something on here. Although we might have to wait till summer. Yet, I'm interested to find out what she thinks of it, so I'll try and get back to an earlier read: The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger.

This book has got everything right, yet everything wrong. It's a beautiful love story, but at times it reads as Red Shoe Diaries (1). It's an extremely original approach to mankind's fascination with space and time, but it doesn't dare twist with fate. My main problem with the book however is the same as with the latest Spider-Man film: the most interesting character is hardly developed. The Eddy Brock of this story is Gomes, who is introduced as someone who is deeply suspicious of Henry (the main character), but whose suspicions are never explained to my satisfaction.

As a love story, it's beautifully tragic, and horribly twisted. Although the author's decision not to mess with fate seems a cheap way out, she has used it to her advantage to make us change our views of Henry, the time traveler. It seems wrong for a naked 30-something year old man to befriend a five year old girl, and prepare her for him (not sexually) in the future, yet it is justified by the fact that the 25-year old version of the girl knows what's going on. Unfortunately, the logical part of the story gives rise to an infinite loop - when exactly was the first meeting of the two? - but then it also opens the debate on another issue: are we living multiple lives? (2)

Before I wrote this paragraph, I rated the book, and was again annoyed by the fact that I gave it four stars overall - have a got no spine?! Surely, this is not a true literary masterpiece?! But then it is a story that we all recognise, and that is in its essence as tragic and epic as Romeo and Juliet. It could have been better with less of the soft-core porn and more character development in the sidelines, but overall, it has been a great read, and should definitely spark debate, if not a tear.

Plot: ****
Fun: *****
Novelty: ****
Overall: ****

(1) Possibly only shown in the Netherlands. If you don't recognise it, think "soft porn".
(2) Cue blog entry on LJ.

From Vienna

Oh dear, Blogger has gone all German on me! Just so you know, I do still read, though rather slowly. I'm still on the same page of What's So Amazing About Grace as I was before WiM, and I've started The Testament of Gideon Mack, which I'll probably finish first. It's not very exhilarating thus far, but expect a proper review in the coming weeks!

Next project?

My previous "Current Reads List" is just in process of being changed:

I've finished Women in Love & Life Of Pi.

I'm coming towards a finish on Metamorphoses, Ulysses & Through Dark Woods.

So now would be a good time to let us know what's next, Thor     :)

Otherwise Lady Chatterley's Lover might sneak in ahead of you!

Do I really like books about crime fighters?

I’m a big fan of Lisa Gardner. Yes, she’s a crime author (not my favourite genre). Yes, she’s trashy (I’m an English Lit Graduate, why am I reading trash?). Yes, she holds competitions for people to get their names in her books (…). But her books are so readable.

By readable, I don’t mean easy reading. It’s not Sophie Kinsella or Chris Manby style trash. It’s closer, I suppose, to Dan Brown and The Da Vinci Code or Angels and Demons. Personally, I find that I need to know what happens and if I don’t find out I can’t really rest. I couldn’t read half a Lisa Gardner book and then move on to something else. To use my own favourite word, it’s unputdownable.

Anyway, the book is Alone and carries the tagline, Don’t turn out the lights…

Synopsis

Woman finds out her husband was divorcing her. He gets drunk, and violent. She calls police. Police sniper sees husband with gun, blows him apart in front of wife and four year old son.

Question is this: did the sniper (Bobby) commit a crime? Did the wife (Catherine) engineer the situation so that her husband would die and she would get his money and keep custody of their son (stated reason for divorce being that she is abusing the son in a Munchausen’s type way. If she engineered it and Bobby shot an innocent man, it’s murder. If she didn’t and Bobby stopped a violent man from shooting his wife, then Bobby simply did his job.

Tough call.

The book is quite similar to About a Boy in that it oscillates between the perspectives of the two main characters, Bobby and Catherine. There’s a third, slightly more secondary character, the mysterious Mr Bosu, who gets a little less time than the others: but I think the point of giving him less chapters is to make him seem less human, which is fitting with his character.

And humanity, for me, is what the book is about. Catherine seems inhuman to the people around her in the story, with the possible exception of her son. But because the reader gets to see inside her head, watch how her past has shaped her future, she elicits a great deal of empathy, if not sympathy, from the reader.

Bobby is a more human character all round, yet his job isn’t really a “human” pursuit- as I’ve said, he finds himself with no choice but to kill a man. He is the hero of the book because he did his job, he saved a woman and child, and he goes through hell as a result.

Interestingly enough, I think the central themes here are compassion and understanding, although as with all crime novels, truth is another huge theme. Explaining why is more tricky- Bobby’s job leads him to kill in order to save an abused wife and child. Learning about Catherine’s traumatic past leads him to dig deeper and deeper into a case that for his own protection he should stay away from and find the truth. Seeing a poorly child struggle for survival, he attempts to discover the cause of Nathan’s illness. There’s no doubt that Bobby is a compassionate man but he goes above and beyond “normal” levels of compassion in order to understand a broken woman and help her defend herself and her son- he knows that shooting will put his whole career in jeopardy, but he does it anyway. He knows that continuing to help Catherine will essentially destroy him, but he does it anyway. Looking at it from the opposite point of view, Catherine’s, you see a vulnerable, frightened woman with a past which has all but destroyed her and those around her. And you see that she needs compassion, and more than compassion, because she needs someone to do something about it. And here we reach the inevitable (with me) Christian link. In this book, the character the reader would most like to identify with is Bobby- he’s good, he does what he has to do, he’s risen above the traumas of his childhood… but the thing is, he’s a bit too good. The character it’s more truthful to identify with is Catherine. She’s the sinner to Bobby’s Christlike character. And she’s the more human of the two, though not the more likeable. It seems I've changed my opinion while writing this- earlier in the review I said she was the least human. I guess it's all to do with perspective...

The point is, as far as books go, I liked this one. It may be crime trash, and it may be a tried and tested and tested again formula, but it’s pacey and interesting and keeps you guessing. It’s a great read, and isn’t that what reading’s about?

Anyway, my book review is rubbish! But here’s my stars…

Plot:***
Fun:***
Novelty:****
Overall:***

Stars

I thought I'd introduce a star system, to help us keep track of the good, the bad, and the ugly. For About a Boy I used the following: Plot: **** Fun: ***** Novelty: *** Overall: **** By Plot, I meant plot and character development. I don't really know how to distinguish between books, but all I want to make sure is that The Da Vinci Code doesn't end up with more than three stars overall - mainly because in my eyes it doesn't have any character development. By Fun, I wouldn't count the number of times the book made me laugh, although this is important too! It should more or less indicate to what extent you felt involved in the story, or in a crude way: was the book a waste of time or not? The Da Vinci Code is a tricky one in this perspective, as nothing was left to the reader's imagination, though it was a rather thrilling and educational story. By Novelty, I mean the uniqueness of the book. I guess this changes over time, as simple authors pick up on what's popular, but a good author will always be able to stand out in an overpopulated genre. I'd also include the complex subject of literature in this category. Has the book been influential, or do you think it should have been/should be? By Overall, I just average over the previous three, with a bias to the actual number of stars I think the book is worth. We could include another category, say Christ-like or something less cheesy, to indicate how we can relate a book to our faith, but I think it would be funny to do this in stars. Possibly, we could leave this to the comment section of each book, or include a footnote in the review. P.S. The it would be great if we could stick to five stars as the maximum, so that for the overall scores we can assume the following: * = The phone book would have been a better read. ** = If I weren't reviewing this I would probably forget about it; not great, but not for me. *** = There's nothing really wrong with it, but it's definitely not amazing. Just a good read. **** = Only one step from perfection. ***** = If everyone reads this book, the world will become a better place.

About a book

"Marcus was right, of course, but being right was no use if the rest of the world was wrong"

Oh how many teenagers end up in that special place, which society forces you to leave if you don't want to end up an outcast! Watching Skins on E4 last night - coincidentally starring Nicholas Hoult, who also played Marcus in the film version of About a Boy - I couldn't help but think of my teenage years, when anything seemed possible as long as your parents didn't know about it.

I only got cautioned once in secondary school. We were in our maths class - typical - and the window was open. A wasp flew in and thanks to some genetic fault from the paternal side of our family, I jumped up and squealed like a pig. No wonder me and my classmate next to me ended up laughing, but our teacher wasn't too amused. An argument with the head teacher didn't prove very fruitful, and we ended up having to clean the back steps of the school.

It was my first experience of the cruelty and immobility of society, and Nick Hornby can tell us a lot more in his classic About a Boy. Before I force myself to steer clear from it, let me immediately compare it to the film: there is no notice of Hugh Grant in the book. Although Marcus and his mom are rather similar in both media, the character of Will is more of a boy in the book, and more of a snob in the film. There are several plotlines which I don't remember from the film, and which are definitely worth reading. I'd like to see the film as a welcome addition to the story of Marcus' life, rather than a perfect rendition of the book.

The book is actually about two boys, Will and Marcus, both convinced the world is an odd place that should be avoided at all cost. They end up forming a somewhat surrogate father-son relationship, and help each other become part of society - though Marcus' help is unintentional.

Nick Hornby achieved two impressive feats in this novel. Contrary to High Fidelity, it doesn't need numerous references to pop culture to be a sign of the times yet timeless. Of course, the references are still there, but since the main characters don't own any record stores, the references are attributive rather than scene setting. The second achievement concerns the most obvious pop reference: the death of Kurt Cobain. The miracle here is that the death - possibly the most significant event in the 90s history of pop - doesn't lead to a soppy teen drama story, yet it plays an integral in the plot evolution.

Finally, the book is incredibly funny, especially towards the end. Where the film remains sweet - though never too sweet - and mainly is a Hugh Grant vehicle, the novel involves a natural transformation of both Will and Marcus. Both boys form a successful double act, making me laugh with their sarcasm - again unintended in Marcus' case. About a Boy is definitely not the best book I've ever read, but it must be one of the most amusing ones.

Plot: ****
Fun: *****
Novelty: ***
Overall: ****

Welcome

Welcome to this new blog. We are a group of friends who love to read, and who love to discuss what they read. We're not hoping to burst on the blogging scene with something new. Instead, we just like to keep track of all the highs and lows we encounter. And include some healthy discussion whilst we're on it. Feel free to join in!