Disputed Land by Tim Pears

Read as part P of the “Along the Library Shelf” reading journey

Chosen because

I had mentally reserved “Stone’s Fall” by Iain Pears for my “p” book, but at the time of choosing that paperback looked a bit thick and gothic. Adjacent was this slim hardback with a contemporary and seasonal setting, and a prologue that drew me in.

The Review

The narrator, Theo, describes a watershed Christmas spent at his paternal grandparents’ farmhouse. Although the events took place when he was 13, they are contemporary, complete with I-pods and smart phones, but are related from his middle aged future. Cleverly this gives the narrative a mixture of innocence and maturity as Theo’s adolescent perceptions are presented and reviewed with adult hindsight.

The grandparents have brought the family together – their three children along with their partners and offspring - for a purpose that soon becomes apparent. Sibling rivalry, old sores and perceived favouritism quickly re-emerges. Young Theo tries to make sense of it all while at the same time dealing with the changing nature of his own relationship with his attractive young cousin Holly.

The backdrop is the timeless Shropshire countryside – the disputed land between England and Wales of which Theo’s grandfather is writing a history. But the title equally refers to the eventual disposition of the farm to the next generation.

The prose is elegiac and stylish; and the family relationships ring true; together providing a very pleasurable read.

Read another?

Probably – favourable review snippets for his previous book “Landed” are prominent on the back cover of this volume.

 

Saturday – Ian McEwan

Henry Perowne’s Saturday starts early when, waking in the small hours, he sees from his bedroom window an aeroplane on fire heading for an emergency landing at Heathrow. It could be a portent that his day off from his neurological surgeon duties will be eventful, and not just because of the family reunion dinner planned for the evening.

As we follow him through his Saturday morning rituals we also share his thoughts on life, his work, world events (as he muses on the news reports) and on preparations for the arrival of his daughter and father in law. This also fills in some of the family history, which apart from its gently upward trajectory is remarkable only for its relative lack of remarkability to date.

But drama lies in waiting for a man who appears to have everything – loving wife, children on the brink of successful transition to adulthood, a fulfilling well paid career, a fashionable London address and even a top of the range Mercedes.

It is when the Mercedes is bumped by a red BMW with dark tinted windows that the fragility of such a lifestyle begins to get exposed. This won’t be sorted out by exchanging insurance details.

The rest of the day is coloured by the incident and its potential effect. The backdrop of an anti-war demonstration in the neighbouring streets also brings to mind the external threats to his comfortable existence, for which he is appreciative but not complacent.

McEwan’s prose is dense and can look off-putting but reads as smooth as silk. Details of thoughts, emotions and events cram into moments of time; it takes five pages to cover a game of squash or perform a neurological procedure. The technicalities of one of these I can understand fully, of the other I have no idea, but both hold the interest equally firmly.

How the day progresses and concludes is well worth finding out. Does the burning plane land safely or are there casualties?

 

 

The Art of Fielding – Chad Harbach

Set in the small unfashionable Westish University on the shores of Lake Michigan, the book follows the interlocking lives of five main characters as they approach some individual watersheds.

Mike Schwartz is the apha-jock leader of the college baseball team, inspirational to others while suffering his own crisis of confidence in his post-graduation future. Henry Skrimshander is the ace baseball fielder in the key short-stop position, discovered, recruited and mentored by Schwartz, and seemingly destined for a career in the majors. Owen Dunne is Henry’s roommate and unconventional fellow member of the baseball team – more aesthete than athlete. Professor Guert Affenlight is the college Principal, an alumnus of the college and the team; and Pella is his prodigal daughter whose return threatens to upset an apple cart or two.

Although the baseball team’s progress provides the narrative backdrop it is the developing relationships between these five that drives the book. These are multi-dimensional – within the family, inside the team and, inevitably, between lovers.

The sporting context is nicely counterbalanced by the academic setting as Westish revers literature in general and Herman Melville in particular. This is due to a connection with the Moby Dick author, discovered by Guert Affenlight in his grad student days, and celebrated by the sports team’s nickname of the “Harpooners”. Poetry, philosophy and art are discussed almost as often as pitching, hitting and fielding (themselves considered an art by aficionados).

Such linkages and cleverly interweaved storylines add depth to the book, as do the complex and likeably flawed characters. Although in need of a good shake every now and then, their intentions are good and their errors, mainly due to their youth, are forgivable.

Knowledge of baseball is probably not essential to the enjoyment of this fine book, but as a keen follower I may not be the best judge. Certainly as a fan of the sport, I loved the book even more for its sporting context and references.

The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane

The journey

Part of the America 1850 reading journey

How it got on the shelf

I first came across this book as a “class reader” in secondary school about 45 years ago. Although I didn’t particularly like it then, and don’t even remember finishing it, it must have made a sufficient impression on me to suggest its inclusion in this journey. Being a little unfashionable now, it was downloaded onto the virtual (Kindle) bookshelf for a modest £2.46 inclusive of “The Open Boat and Other Stories”.

The Review

The main story is set in the American Civil War and relates the early experiences of young Henry Fleming, newly enlisted in the Union army, as he prepares for his first battle. As this approaches he is plagued by doubts over whether he will fight or run when the bullets start to fly. Will he survive unscathed or, like some of the veterans he sees returning from the front, be wounded and sport that ‘red badge of courage’?

It reads longer than its 70 pages, possibly due to its slow deliberate pace, detailed descriptions and use of somewhat flowery and dated prose; although the latter does lend the book a period feel that matches its content.

Through Henry’s eyes we see vividly the soldiers, the army, the fractured landscape, and eventually the fighting. We also experience the disorienting confusion of the battlefield and Henry’s emotional turmoil that accompanies it.

This main story justifies its reputation as a defining novella of the American Civil War; not the politics, nor the military strategies, but how it may have felt to be involved as an ordinary foot soldier caught up, terribly, in this time and in that place.

The other stories continue the themes of comradeship and combat – men against the elements in “The Open Boat”, one on one in “The Blue Hotel”, and Yankee against Rebel in several others. The relationships of the combatants, based on fear, hatred, respect and dependency - especially complex in a civil war - are brought out well.

It was definitely worth returning to and finishing off this time.

Fluke – Christopher Moore

With the sub-title “or I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings” and a picture of a diving whale’s tail fin (or fluke) on the cover it’s no surprise that the novel concerns the adventures of a small team of whale song researchers.

Scientist Nate and photographer Clay spend their time and other people’s money bobbing around the coastal waters of Hawaii seeking, filming, recording, tagging and generally cooing over the various species of whales. Also aboard are young cute research assistant Amy, who tests Nate’s professional detachment, and white would-be hippy Rasta-boy Kona, who tests his patience.

The banter and flirting aboard and baiting of professional rivals ashore soon become secondary to a run of disturbing incidents that threaten their research efforts. Is this just bad luck or is there a mysterious force at work bent on scuppering their chances of discovering some inconvenient truth?

Things go from bad to worse; and from believable scientific fact to credibility stretching science fiction, as a secret of the ocean deeps is discovered by Nate, and not in a pleasant way.

The writing is easy on the eye but the laid back laconic style, while good for the banter and flirting, takes the edge of the (many) cliff-hanging moments when a character is endangered.

In summary a light, imaginative read with humour, likeable characters and dubious science.

Dreams from my Father by Barack Obama

Read as part O of the “Along the Library Shelf” reading journey

Chosen because

There were few O’s on the fiction shelves but this jumped out of the biographies section. With the US election campaign nearing its climax it seemed topical, was not over long, and had impressive review snippets on the cover.

The Review

Written in 1995, some 13 years ahead of presidential status, this is Barack Obama’s personal memoir of his early life, written as his contribution to the race relations debate.

He was born in Hawaii where his parents met while studying at the University. His father was black from Kenya, to where he soon returned, keeping sporadic touch from afar until his relatively early death. His mother, white from Kansas, moved on to a second marriage in Indonesia giving young Barack a brief taste of Asia before returning him to Hawaii in the care of his maternal grandparents.

Middle class schooling provided a first taste of the casual racism of the 60’s, present even in the cultural melting pot of Hawaii, prompting the first questions of race and identity. Moving on to support social projects in Chicago’s South Side, he saw how segregation had resulted from unemployed blacks coalescing in the poor inner city streets, while those able, mainly white but also the more affluent black, shipped out to the suburbs.

From the perspective given by his unusual family background, he searches open-mindedly to establish where he and his fellow black Americans really belong – to their half of the community, to their country, to their race - or all of these if that’s possible. Refreshingly for a future politician, he does not lay claim to all the answers.

The final section of the book sees him “return” to Kenya where he meets his disparate half siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins. This enables him to piece together the full story of his grandfather’s life in colonial Africa and his father’s, no less difficult times, in post-colonial Kenya.

It is very well written; the prose is clear, descriptions are atmospheric whether of the mean streets of Chicago or the dusty African bush, and characters are portrayed with empathy and respect. His range of writing style is impressive – Hawaii is entertaining, Chicago analytical and Kenya moving.

Whether he finds his answers or not it is a fascinating insight into what it is like to be black in what seems to be, still, very much a white man’s world - if no longer fashioned for him then certainly fashioned by him.

The book leaves a very favourable impression of the man and I was very glad to see him back in the White House.

Read another?

His “Audacity of Hope” looks like more of a political treatise so may not be for me, but a volume of how he managed to become President could be interesting.

 

The Falls – Ian Rankin

Rankin and Rebus are their own reading journey and this book, set in 2001, is stop number twelve.

For the uninitiated John Rebus is the maverick Detective Inspector with the Lothian and Borders Police. Unsurprisingly for followers of detective fiction, he has his problems, mainly with authority, relationships and drinking; tolerated due to his deep rooted desire to see justice done and his knack of solving those tricky crimes.

Here it is a missing person’s case, or has the body just not been found yet? What is the significance of the miniature coffin found close to her home? Was she involved in a dangerous internet-based game?

As the case develops Rankin packs the pages with police procedure, office politics and snatches of the personal lives of Rebus and his colleagues. Rebus is no Sherlock Holmes so don’t expect read the clues and beat him to the solution; he is more of a Columbo, working on hunches and poking potential suspects with barbed comments until either they break cover or he stumbles over the answer. In truth the crime is not as important to the book as the motivations, behaviour and interaction of all those involved: the victims, suspects, witnesses, police and press.

It is well written, fiendishly plotted, and best read quickly to maintain a grip on the multifarious threads of the story. If you know Edinburgh the references to its topography, history and notoriously dichotomous nature (displaying elegance & brutality, enlightenment & depravity, and home to high rollers & low lifers) add a further dimension, which having lived in the city I find particularly alluring.

So no doubt I will see Rebus through to his retirement in about five books time; if you want to start from scratch seek out “Knots and Crosses” from your local charity shop and enjoy the journey.

Juliet, Naked – Nick Hornby

Although much of Bibliodyssey is about new reading experiences, there is no reason to forsake tried and trusted favourites.

Nick Hornby and I have grown older together. Progressing from the youthful Fever Pitch and laddish High Fidelity, through yuppie About a Boy, to young married How To Be Good. Long Way Down was multi-generational and Slam reverted to youth, but with Juliet, Naked we are into middle age territory.

Annie & Duncan’s long term relationship is drifting comfortably but aimlessly. Unwed and so far childless, their jobs secure but unexciting, there is little passion apart from Duncan’s obsession with an obscure and long-time reclusive 80’s rock star Tucker Crowe.

When a newly discovered Crowe recording emerges it is the unexpected catalyst for change, propelling Annie in particular down an unlikely path to self-discovery and possible fulfilment. But she is not the only one affected and more than one character has to navigate choppy emotional waters and potential pitfalls along the way.

Hornby’s sure hand on relationships and dialogue, and his eye for humour are all here. He also knows his music, and describes Tucker Crowe’s place in the rock pantheon so authentically that it almost had me checking him out on Google.

Light and entertaining but with a few moral dilemmas along the way – just another typically good Hornby read.

Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Brown

The journey

Part of the America 1850 reading journey

How it got on the shelf

Last year I finally succumbed to one of the Folio Society introductory offers and chose this as one of my obligatory books. As my free gift for subscribing I requested the two-volume Shorter Oxford English Dictionary which looked quite neat in the advert. On arrival the actual size came as a surprise but it does double as a useful coffee table. Getting back to the featured book, it is a lovely hardback edition with numerous photographs including one inset on the front cover.

The Review

The book tells the heart-rending story of the final five decades of Native American Indian resistance to the inexorable pressure of the white man. Dee Brown gives a voice to the Sioux, the Cheyenne and the Apache, and offers their version of late 19^th century American history – looking east at an invading, or at least invasive, horde intent on exploiting their ancestral lands.

This is not how the west was won but how the victory was enforced. Trickery, bribery and cheating were the weapons of choice; dispossession, destitution and demise were the result, punctuated with acts of defiance ruthlessly put down.

Meticulously researched and related without hyperbole, Brown’s possibly selective but undeniably truthful account of events makes for uncomfortable but compulsive reading.

11.22.63 – Stephen King

Most people with a bus pass can tell you what they were doing or where they were on the 22^nd November 1963, when US president John F Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, Texas. For those of later generations, it was the equivalent to the day Diana died or the twin towers went down. For the record I was sat at home, too young to attend my sister’s school’s speech night, which had been interrupted by the news.

In the book Jake Epping is given the opportunity to step back through a “rabbit hole” in time to a particular day in September 1958. The discoverer of the portal, Al Templeton, shares his plan to use it to go back and prevent the Kennedy assassination, which he is now unable to complete due to terminal cancer. He wants Jake to take his place and fulfil the mission.

Naturally dubious, aware of all the pitfalls of time travel, Jake undertakes some cautious experiments that seem to show that his small interventions can change the future, discernible when he returns to the present, but not always for the better. Al convinces him of the potential benefits for world peace, racial equality and global well-being of Kennedy’s survival and, having nothing better to do in 2011, Jake agrees to spend five years living in the “land of ago”.

Cue late fifties and early sixties nostalgia, lovingly portrayed by one of the best storytellers around - a reminder of life without mobile phones, computers, terrorism or the internet. Jake has time to get comfortable and start a new life, but all the time the clock is ticking down to the fateful date for which he must prepare and before which he is supposed act, brutally out of character. And then what – stay or return?

Time travel is tricky and wisely King does not attempt an explanation, just sets out and sticks to his parameters. On those terms the concept works and provides a good vehicle for the various storylines. He writes well, that is a given, but at 850 pages the nostalgia is a little overdone (about 200 pages) and the heroics a little excessive (I can see Tom Cruise wanting the part). In the end only the burning desire to find out how it all ends, both for Jake and for the world, got me through to the frantic climax.

Hand Me Down World – Lloyd Jones

This is the story of a woman’s search for her child, taken by the father who used her as an unwitting surrogate mother. It is told through the sequential accounts of those she interacts with en route; some encounters are fleeting, almost inconsequential, others are more substantial and influential.

Geographically she travels from North Africa, through Italy, to Berlin. Emotionally it is harder to chart her progress, as the statements by the third parties reveal more about them than her, and lead to a range of tangential mini-stories which become more relevant as we reach Berlin. It is an interesting approach, but eventually, thankfully, we get her first-hand account to fill the gaps and weave together the other testimonies.

The book is also about the kindness of (some) strangers, how the same events are recollected differently by those involved, and the city of Berlin.

The New Zealand author created the work while on a writer’s residency in the German capital, and he depicts well how it feels to be a stranger in unfamiliar surroundings. The same author’s “Mr Pip” had a similar element of cultural dislocation.

Both books were a good read, well written and taking the reader a little off the beaten track.

The Suspicions of Mr Whicher – Kate Summerscale

The events of the shocking 1860 Road Hill House murder and the efforts to solve the crime form the backbone of the book. It was a classic country house mystery where the murderer seemingly had to be one of the household – family, visitor or staff.

Mr Whicher from the relatively newly formed detective service at Scotland Yard is eventually put on the case, and has to probe apart the genteel and respectable family façade to discover who had the means, motive and opportunity. To do so required breaking down the traditional police deference to the moneyed classes.

As the story unfolds Summerscale broadens her canvas to include the development of the detective service - in which Whicher was prominent, almost achieving celebrity status – and detective fiction. Art imitated life as bluff working class, but intelligent and articulate, policemen began to appear in popular fiction, for example Inspector Bucket in Bleak House and Sergeant Cuff in The Moonstone.

The book weaves together these themes nicely with the discourses on detectives and detective fiction long enough to be informative but short enough not to detract from the main narrative. The contextual social history is similarly well integrated.

The prose is measured as befits the book’s documentary nature, but pace and interest is maintained throughout the 300+ pages, as the reader is teased with new revelations over a 70 year period. Even beyond then titbits of information emerge that embellish the extraordinary story further.

Overall an unusual and fascinating adjunct to the detective fiction genre.

Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier

The journey

Part of the America 1850 reading journey

How it got on the shelf

Back in 2006 my daughter was doing her GCSE English and, knowing my predilection for second hand bookshops, asked me to look out for a cheap copy of Cold Mountain that she could annotate as part of her revision.  By the time I obliged, courtesy of a charity shop in, I think, Skipton, the need had passed as the exam had already taken place.  Not wanting to waste the 50p or so, the book went on the shelf awaiting its time.

This, in the meantime, has required me to studiously avoid the film.  To see the film before reading the book is heresy for me.  The infinite possibilities presented by the author disappear once the director imposes his or her viewpoint in the film’; subtleties are lost (as often are huge chunks of plot) and even worse new events and characters can creep in.  Don’t get me wrong, films of books can be very good films and I enjoy them, but I don’t let them spoil a good book.

The Review

This is the story of Ada and Inman, who met briefly, but memorably, in one of the Southern states just before Inman has to go and fight for the confederate cause in the American Civil War.  Wounded and disillusioned by the fighting Inman sets off home to Cold Mountain, where Ada’s simple but privileged existence is ceasing due to the death of her father and the impact of the civil war both on their smallholding and on the economy of the South.

We flip from Inman’s tortuous journey through the woods and mountains and rivers and more woods and more mountains, to Ada’s scratching and scraping and eking of a living from the ground (aided by the ever resourceful Ruby). People are met along the way, incidents occur, and the beauty of the Midwest scenery is lovingly portrayed.

There is a sense of a world changing, echoing the previous change as the Indians of Inman’s youth disappeared leaving only their mark in the mountain caves.  The slave economy of the South is unsustainable, but what will the Northern dominance bring in its place?

But the big question is will Inman ever get back to Cold Mountain and how will Ada receive him?

It’s a slow burner, but the dénouement is tense and the ending unsure even to the last page of the epilogue.

Set in Stone by Linda Newbery

Read as part N of the “Along the Library Shelf” reading journey

 

Chosen because

N is an under-represented initial on the fiction shelf and non-existent in the crime & thriller section - and I was banking on at least a Jo Nesbo! However this was one of the available few and had a tempting blurb, decent review quotes and a Costa Book Awards category winner sticker.

The Review

It is 1898 and Samuel Godwin, straight out of art college, thinks he has landed a plum job at the remote “Fourwinds” manor house as at tutor to the recently widowed owner’s two attractive young daughters. As this takes only a couple of hours a day this leaves plenty of time to study and paint the house and garden as well as ponder on the household set up.

This includes Charlotte Agnew, the girls’ governess / companion, who is barely older than her charges. She too is a fairly recent appointment but already has her feet well under the table.

Of course this idyll soon begins to show stress lines. Why are the girls a bit flakey? Why have only three of the four wind sculptures been completed? What happened to the sculptor and to the previous governess; and for that matter to the wife?

As befits the period, the respectable façade hides some unpalatable depths; skeletons emerge too numerous for a cupboard – at least a walk in wardrobe would be needed; and Samuel and Charlotte have to deal with revelation after revelation.

These two take turns to describe their involvement in events. Both adopt their best late Victorian, educated but deferential style, so some concentration is needed to keep track of who is currently in the story chair as the narrative zips along.

But that is just nit-picking - the characters, atmosphere and plotline are well developed with a light touch that makes this just a good, engrossing and enjoyable read.

Read another?

The author has written mainly for children and young adults, but The Shell House and Sisterland may be worth a look.

The Perfect Mile by Neal Bascomb

Read as part of the sport reading journey

This was written in 2004 but takes its subject matter from 50 years earlier when athletes were strictly amateur and the imperial mile was still the main event. Across three continents three runners vied to be first to run 1 mile inside 4 minutes. Englishman Roger Bannister, Australian John Landy and American Wes Santee each returned from the 1952 Helsinki Olympics disappointed, but as great athletes do, they responded by seeking a new challenge and training harder and smarter.

Bascomb gives some background on each athlete but mainly sticks to the sport – the training, the psychology and the races. Nominally they raced against the clock (like Coe and Ovett in the 80s they avoided direct competition) but always they had their two rivals in mind.

Pieced together from contemporaneous sources and more recent interviews with each protagonist and other eye witnesses, the book gives a sound insight into the three characters; their philosophical approach to the sport and their motivation, as well as their developing techniques and training regimes. The technical information is there, but is concise and does not get in the way of the narrative.

Significant races are graphically described, lap by lap, grimace by grimace. Tension mounts as the times come down. Even if you know who first breaks the barrier, there is still the question of who will win the first face to face meeting (but avoid the spoiler photos in the middle until all is revealed in the text).

My interest in athletics was ignited as a thirteen year old by the 1964 Mexico City Olympics, when Robbie Brightwell’s disappointing silver medal in the 400m was eclipsed by his fiancée Ann Packer’s gold in the 800m. It was a great story and the archive clip still gives me goose-bumps. In those days and even into the 1970s the amateur nature of athletics still held sway, so the Bannister era of fitting training and races around a job and winning no more than instant glory is recognisable to me. For younger readers the contrast is stark indeed with modern full time professional athletes earning prize money and sponsorship deals.

Yet at heart the simplicity of the track athlete, man v man or man v clock, is timeless. This account of the perfect mile stands as testament to that sporting ideal, which may now be shrouded in celebrity, glitz and commercial gain but is, I think, I hope, still there.

Suggestions for World Book Night 2013

My suggestions are given below. All are great books to encourage people into reading - immediately engaging with a strong narrative thread, exciting or funny, not too long and covering a range of genre. None of the authors have featured in previous WBN lists.

Check out the WBN website www.worldbooknight.org for the 100 most popular suggestions to date (none of mine are in there) – and to add your own.

 

Ordinary Thunderstorms by William Boyd

Atmospheric modern day thriller set in London – one man with a secret hunted by both the police and a corporate hit man.

The Odessa File by Frederick Forsyth

 

The original Nazi-hunting novel and still the best – compelling, action packed with grains of truth.

Spies by Michael Frayn

Evocatively told story set in WW2 England that shows how childish imagination can misread adult behaviour with dangerous results.

The Kon Tiki Expedition by Thor Heyerdahl

True but hard to believe story of oceanic exploration and bravery in the days before satnav, mobile phones and an accompanying reality TV crew.

High Fidelity by Nick Hornby

The most accurate portrait of the modern metropolitan male predicament, as hero Rob tries to come to terms with his disintegrating personal life and failing record shop business.

French Revolutions by Tim Moore

One bike enthusiast’s hilarious account of his attempt to ride the Tour de France course.

Knots & Crosses by Ian Rankin

The first novel in the brilliant Inspector Rebus series – sharp, crisp with a tense ending.

Holes by Louis Sachar

Nominally a book for young adults but much too good not to share wider – Stanley Yelnets being sent wrongly to “juvie” is just the start of a sequence of strange events that eventually, bizarrely, resolve themselves in a satisfying conclusion.

The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13¾ by Sue Townsend

Witty, engaging and accurate account of adolescent angst with laugh out loud moments and now with added nostalgic appeal.

Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut

Billy Pilgrim’s chronologically mixed-up life story includes WW2 and interplanetary travel, but provides a fascinating narrative and some universal truths.

The Slap – Christos Tsiolkas

The slap occurs early in the book as a parent deals out some instant punishment to a misbehaving child, but crucially not his own.  The incident brings a barbecue for friends and family to a premature and fractious end.  As the characters disperse we follow some of their lives giving a selective perspective on modern Australian, or at least Melbourne, life.

 

These lives, if representative, give an unflattering picture of booze and drug fuelled infidelity, abuse and selfishness.  As the narrative moves from one person to another the differences between what they think and what they say, and what they know they should do and what they actually do, are laid bare.

 

What will be the outcome of it all? Who, if anyone will get their just desserts and who will get away with it all and emerge unscathed?

 

The structure of the book is unusual and interesting - offering sequential slices of the unfolding storylines from the different protagonists. The narrative maintains interest but I found the dialogue crude at times; both in relating the many sexual encounters and in references to racial origins. This may of course be normal in the antipodes.

 

Indeed it is normality of it all that is most unsettling. Is this tolerance or a less positive shoulder-shrugging acceptance of imperfect behaviour – this is how real people live their lives so just get over it and move on?

 

The exception to this tolerance is the slap itself which reverberates through the book, destined to have a more serious effect on relationships than all the other, more premeditated, misdemeanours.

We Need To Talk About Kevin – Lionel Shriver

The reason is clear from the start – 14 year old Kevin has murdered several of his school colleagues in a Columbine-like attack.  Much less clear is why and how.

The back story is related through a series of unanswered letters written by his mother Eva, to the estranged father, between her fortnightly visits to the Claverack Juvenile Correctional Facility.  Through these letters Eva examines her relationship with her son from conception to and beyond that fateful Thursday.

Is it her fault, what did she do wrong or fail to do right?  What can happen to the husband and wife relationship when a child is added to the family, and how does this then affect the child?  Did they create a monster or was there an evil that would not be denied?

Eva’s letters are well written, precise, almost forensic.  Events are related dispassionately, the understatement making them all the more horrific.  There is a voyeuristic appeal that keeps the reader engaged as Kevin’s devilment develops and is revealed incident by harrowing incident.  Indeed one of the motivations mooted for Columbine killings is the notoriety they generate, fuelled by public interest, even fascination, with them. The theory is tacitly supported by the reader’s investment of time and money in the book.

Considering that Kevin’s fate is known from the start the final chapters are surprisingly tense and revealing and left this reader both emotionally drained and intellectually satisfied.

Overall this is an excellent book that explores uncomfortable issues with controlled emotion, within a well-constructed storyline, that teases the reader steadily through its 400 plus pages.

The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet by David Mitchell

Read as part M of the “Along the Library Shelf” reading journey

Chosen because

I am a bit of a sucker for such a hardback with an interesting retro cover. The Japanese woodcut effect sets the scene as the Dutch trading station off Nagasaki, the only point of contact permitted between 18th century Japan and the western world. History and a clash of cultures beckon, and the blurb promises duplicity, love, guilt, faith and murder, so what’s not to like?

The Review

Jacob De Zoet is clerk to the new Chief Resident of the Nagasaki outpost of the Dutch East Indies Company, come to clean up the ledgers and clear out the corruption and private profiteering. On a tiny island, joined to Japan by a gated bridge, the small colony lives in a morass of intrigue, shifting loyalties and eggshell treading protocol revealed by interpreters of variable quality and uncertain motive.

Jacob meets the unusual Miss Aibagawa, but before his constancy to his betrothed in Holland is tested, she is spirited away to a ‘House of Sisters’ on the mainland. What fate awaits her there and how can Jacob rescue her when he cannot even cross the bridge to the mainland.

To complicate matters, Europe is at war and the English are coming to contest the Dutch monopoly.  Will captain Penhaligan’s Royal Navy frigate be a threat or an opportunity for Jacob?

The book moves effortlessly between the main characters, portraying their motivations and machinations with a light but deft touch. Always atmospheric, occasionally touching, and tense and exciting during climactic incidents, it is a rewarding account of a (by me) rarely visited setting –eighteenth century Japan – the Land of a Thousand Autumns.

Read another?

I have been warned off Cloud Atlas, but having enjoyed Thousand Autumns I think I probably will look at Ghostwritten or number9dream.

Room by Emma Donoghue

Read as part of the World Book Night 2012 reading journey

Room is where Jack and Ma live; live as in exist. It is their whole world, and for Jack it is the one he was born into and the only one he has known.  His windows on the universe are a skylight and a television.  One shows only the time of day and the weather; the other, his Ma purports, shows happenings on other planets.  In this way she seeks to protect him from the reality of his confinement’

They are imprisoned by “Old Nick” during whose visits Jack retires to the wardrobe, out of sight, but unfortunately not out of hearing.  However Jack is turning 5 and, benefitting from Ma’s 24/7 attention, is becoming harder to keep both literally and metaphorically in the dark. And with Old Nick under external pressures something will have to be done.

Narrated by Jack with the clarity of his uncluttered perspective, we move from their physically constrained daily routine, through a period of revelation for Jack, to the question of possible escape.  But will escape simply exchange one set of known dangers for a whole new set of unknown ones.  Is Jack safer closeted in Room than exposed to crime, drugs, traffic, bullies, deep water and all the other suburban parental fears that surface when a child innocently asks “can I play out”.

The Room concept is wholly believable and without resorting to explicit detail is emotionally harrowing.  Real tension builds as escape is considered, planned and rehearsed.  Do they go through with it, can it succeed, or would they just swap the frying pan for the fire?

It’s a good read finding out.

Can You Forgive Her? – Anthony Trollope

Reputably re-titled by Stephen King as “Can You Possibly Finish It?” due to its length (he’s one to talk), but for me it wears its 800 pages lightly.

Originally published in instalments in 1864-65 it’s a soap opera of its day around a cast including the aristocratic Plantagenet Palliser and Lady Glencora, the merely well to do Vivasor cousins – flighty Alice, stirrer Kate & villainous George – and the smooth but onomatopoeic Mr Grey.

I’m afraid that Alice’s romantic ditherings cause shock waves in society, evidenced by severely raised eyebrows. As she digs herself deeper into dis-renown, others in her social circle have their own relationship issues to deal with, related by Trollope with relish, wisdom, sly humour and humanity.

In this, the first of his “political” novels, the parliamentary setting is very much in the background, mainly occupying the men while the women get on with the real intrigue of love, life and society. There is much hand wringing and soul searching, attempts at honourable behaviour, some skulduggery and a little violence before the titular question can be answered.

I like Trollope’s easy style and enjoy his asides to the reader, which may not be to everyone’s taste. Having meandered through his Barchester Chronicles over a twelve year period will I have the inclination, stamina or indeed longevity to get through the Palliser books?

We have the technology - with all six books loaded onto the Kindle for just £1.29 - but to paraphrase Stephen King, can I possibly finish it?

WBN 2012 Books 1 to 9

At the start the World Book Night 2012 reading journey I have read 9 of the 25 choices and these are my brief comments based on my recollections. As some go back a few years no responsibility is accepted for any inaccuracies of plot, character or spelling.

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen

A classic that easily justifies its status. Although the sentences seem long to the modern reader, they are perfectly formed and if read at a leisurely pace transport the reader to the outwardly genteel 19^th century, only to reveal, with legendary wit, the same human foibles that abound in the 21^st.

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

Not his best in my view, but one of his shorter works – and a popular re-introduction to Dickens for those scarred for life by enforced school helpings of David Copperfield that rarely got beyond “Chapter 1 - I Am Born”. It is quicker moving than most, but at the expense of the usual extensive cast of peripheral characters.

The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

A pleasant enough read. I recall it being mystical and allegorical in nature but not sufficiently memorable to me to enable more to be said.

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro

Beautifully written, evocative novel that intertwines inter-war politics and social history with personal conflicts of loyalties as upper class Britain, and their retainers, slide into war, dabble with fascism and face up to the decline of the world as they know it.

Misery by Stephen King

Nothing supernatural here, just old fashioned psychological thriller as Annie Wilkes rescues her favourite author from a car crash and “nurses” him according to her own agenda. Genuinely nerve jangling and an all round good read.

Small Island by Andrea Levy

I found this an eye-opening and moving account of West Indian immigration in the 1940s. The culture shock of the “Windrush” generation arriving in post war London, and their ignorant reception by most of the indigenous citizens is related without rancour and is all the more effective for that.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Bleak, post apocalyptical, tale written in McCarthy’s economical style that dispenses with superfluous punctuation such as inverted comma for speech. I read the journey by man and boy along the eponymous thoroughfare, confronting hidden dangers in search of a safe haven, as a powerful allegory. A father’s purpose to navigate the perils of raising his son and deliver him safely and soundly to adulthood.

The Damned Utd by David Peace

As a football person, of an age to remember the Brian Clough 44 days as Leeds United manager, I enjoyed this thoroughly. If I was neither of those I’m not sure what I would have made of it. Peace’s style is direct and pays no heed to readers sensitivities as far as language is concerned so be warned and be careful who you pass this one on to.

The Book Thief by Markus Zuzak

A great book, especially for bibliophiles. Set in Nazi Germany, the gripping story unfolds, told by the young narrator as an adjunct to her career as a stealer (out of penniless necessity) of books (out of compulsion). We have all been there (the compulsion for books that is, not the stealing)!

The Sisters Brothers by Patrick DeWitt

The journey

Part of the America 1850 reading journey

How it got on the shelf

My sister and I have this unspoken 20 year tradition whereby when December comes the question is not what to buy him/her for Christmas, but which book should I buy him/her.  The difficulty is choosing one unlikely to have been read previously, and so one way to go is for a recently published paperback and hope you are one step ahead of your sibling.  The minor miracle is that we have so far avoided in any year swapping the very same book.

The 2011 arrival was The Sisters Brothers.  Intriguingly titled with an eye catching cover (two gunmen silhouetted against a rising moon - but symbolic to me of a skull) I had fondled it once or twice in Waterstones, so was very pleased to unwrap it on Christmas morning.

The Review

Starting in Oregon City in 1851, two hired gunslingers Eli and Charlie Sisters, set off on their latest assignment, requiring a journey to California in pursuit of their mark.

Their mission is narrated by Eli, in language that has a period feel and displays a sensitivity that belies his profession.  In truth it is his brother who is the natural born killer, and Eli is constantly torn between his own sensibilities and his loyalty to the hard as nails Charlie.

The brothers’ complex relationship is splendidly explored and the pioneer west is vividly depicted showing a bizarre mixture of brutality, comedy and humanity. Episodes along the way are described with cinematic clarity, whether in a saloon cum whorehouse, in gold crazy San Francisco, or at the final showdown.

The setting is fascinating, and the story is engaging, but it is the contrasting characters of Eli & Charlie and their complex, changing relationship that gives the book its tremendous appeal.  You have to feel for Eli and through him you grow to care for his brother, so that eventually you find yourself rooting happily for what is, at the end of the day, a murderous gang.

A must read.

The Hartlepool Monkey by Sean Longley

The journey

Along the library shelf: L

Chosen because

The fate of the French monkey mascot shipwrecked off Hartlepool and hung as a spy is a regional cause celebre, related to all newcomers as some sort of dire warning not to mess with the insular and fiercely independent locals. This book may shed some light on the incident, and separate fact from myth.

The Review

This is an imaginative tale that creates a complex and bizarre back story for the unfortunate eponymous ape, told through the narrative of three characters coming into close contact with him.

First we hear from Dr Simon Legris on how he came to go to Africa and return to France with a monkey. This section is a bit Carry-on up the Jungle, and the booker prize jury was definitely unimpressed. The second section is related by a madame in revolutionary Paris and becomes more like Carry-on Don’t Lose Your Head; the jury were ready to pack in at this point. However perseverance paid off as the final narration from Warrens, the “one guinea brief”, is a class above. He has the thankless task of representing the simian spy at the trial and his dry delivery, self-deprecating wit, and subtle insults disguised as deference are a joy (think of Rowan Atkinson in Blackadder the Third).

The various threads of the story are neatly and unexpectedly brought together; the angle taken on the story is clever and lifts the book to an excellent climax. For separating myth from reality it is of no use at all, particularly when account is taken of Admiral Nelson’s cameo where he loses more than an eye. But as a read it is more than the regency romp it initially seems and certainly leaves you with food for thought and a new perspective on the old tale.

Read another?

Based on the final third of the book, the author’s first, I would give it a go.