19 posts tagged “books”

The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery
Not a lot happens in this book so I don't have a lot to say about it. I enjoyed it though, it's very French, contains a lot of accessible philosophy and is mainly about friendship and the power of literature, film, music and art to bring people happiness.

Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates
Review: here.

Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris
Living Dead in Dallas by Charlaine Harris
Club Dead by Charlaine Harris
The first three books in the Sookie Stackhouse series. I'm hooked now and eagerly awaiting the arrival of the next few I ordered from Book Depository, but I still think the TV show True Blood is better. Each book represents one series of the show, but the show has taken a lot of liberties with the series by creating lots of new sub-plots. Hmmm I don't have much else to say about the books I'm afraid, except that they're very light reading, but so full of sex, violence and drama that they're not dull. Perfect for me at the moment since my uni workload has gotten so heavy.


Currently Reading:
Shanghai Girls by Lisa See
I'm about halfway through, it's really great so far. I think I might even prefer it to her other books Peony in Love and The Snow Flower and the Secret Fan.

My mum and my sister have been telling me for years that I MUST read The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham. “Oh yeah? What’s that one about again?” I would ask, with one of them replying with something along the lines of “Well it’s about killer plants...” before quickly insisting that this didn’t mean it was silly. I finally picked The Triffids up in August and found myself totally captivated, finishing it in one day.

Killer plants are a large part of The Triffids, but it’s far more multifaceted than that. A supposed comet causes a spectacular light show, only to plummet the world into darkness; the intense light has left the majority of the population blind. The sightless stumble the streets in hysterics, desperate for food. At first many die in the ensuing violence, are killed in tragic accidents, like mistaking windows for doors, others, not willing to live in perpetual darkness, suicide. The seers and the blind that survive the first few days find themselves in perpetual danger from a new and unusual threat. Without the power of sight mankind is left at the mercy of the triffids, plants that were created via genetic engineering in Russia and prior to the disaster were harvested commercially across the globe for their oils. The triffids are not your average plants, they are about six-feet tall, able to hobble along on their roots, and are equipped with poisonous, whip-like stingers that lash out at high speeds and reach several feet. Once a triffid has stung it will sit by its victim for days as the body decays, digesting bits of rotting flesh. The novel follows Bill Masen, one of the few whose sight remains intact, and his struggle to survive.

The Triffids was first published in the ’50s, and true to its era it oozes heavy themes of Cold War paranoia. Not only are the Russians responsible for the creation of the triffids, but Masen reveals that prior to the disaster people were living in constant fear of weaponry satellites circling the earth, created as a part of the arms race: “It was by no means pleasant to realise that there was an unknown number of menaces up there over your head, quietly circling and circling until someone should arrange for them to drop – and there was nothing to be done about them. Still, life has to go on – and novelty is a wonderfully short-lived thing. One became used to the idea perforce.”

Despite the heavy contextual impact of the Cold War, The Triffids has stood the test of time because Wyndham’s story is one of human nature and survival; ageless themes contemporary authors continue to wrestle with. It has influenced post apocalyptic writers for the past five decades and as a result its traces can be seen in many modern works (The Happening, I Am Legend, The Handmaid’s Tale…). Wyndham might have been preoccupied with the events of the ‘50s, but he also managed to foreshadow modern concerns about genetic engineering and bio warfare, increasing the text’s longevity even further.

All of this aside, The Triffids is simply so well written. Wyndham paints a vivid, thrilling, disaster story that successfully walks the line between frightening and funny without ever becoming overwhelmingly dark; a fate many post-apocalyptic works often succumb to.

I’m dying to read more of Wyndham’s works, next on my list is The Chrysalids, which, according to Wikipedia, some fans consider his finest work.

The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham
I loved this book, here's my review of it.

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
So many people have told me to read Water for Elephants over the past few years and when I finally got around to it this month I wasn't disappointed. Gruen held me captivated the entire way with her portrayl of American circuses during the Great Depression. I'm going to keep my eyes out for some of the circus photography collections from the period that Gruen said inspired her.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
It was a little heavy going wading through this story told entirely in letters for the first 50 pages, but once the plot took shape I really enjoyed it. Despite the storyline being rather predictable in places, the quirky characters of Guernsey and their stories of friendship during the German occupation kept me captivated for an entire day while sick in bed.

Once Upon a Time in Beirut by Catherine Taylor

An interesting memoir by an Australian journalist on her few years living in Beirut. Like most travel memoirs it got a bit bogged down at times with facts and many different characters, but overall it was a good read. I'd recommend it to fellow journos and travel-writing buffs, but others might not be so into it.

This book first crossed my path at work a few months ago when I had to write some promotional copy about it. The cover was striking; teal set off by gold embossing and contrasted against black, silhouetted sparrows, itroused my curiosity. But the novel’s weird name combined with the blurb describing it as about a 12-year-old mapmaker put me off, it struck me as possibly enjoyable, but equally likely to be tedious and dull. Weird book names seem to have that effect on me, I had a similar reaction to Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl prior to knowing anything about it. I actually remember looking at it in a store and thinking, “who’d be interested in that?” A few months later I picked it up and couldn’t put it down again.

But trusted voxer Emily pushed me from uncertainty into book lust when she posted a rave review of it in May. I’m such a sheep when it comes to reading, it's so time consuming that often I’m not interested in something unless I know someone who liked it.

The first thing readers will notice about The Selected Works is its innovative design, it contains extensive margin notes, which are often beautifully written and include intricate illustrations and maps. At times the margins contain major plot points so it’s important readers persevere with them. It was a bit difficult to get into the habit of reading the notes at first, but I soon got the hang of it and quite liked their inclusion in the novel.

I absolutely devoured the first part of The Selected Works, in which T.S is at home on his ranch in Montana. Most of all I think I loved the contrast between quirky, nerdy T.S and his tough-as-nails, reticent, cowboy Father who just doesn’t understand him. The conflict between their two utterly different characters has been exacerbated by the death of T.S’ brother, it’s indicated early on that he died in mysterious circumstances involving T.S somehow. T.S and Father are beautifully drawn characters. Words from Father are rare but Larson manages to bring him to life, through his physical characteristics; his half-cocked, once broken pinky, his leathery smell, T.S’ perspective on his personality; introspective, at times cold, and his love of the wild west; embodied in  “The Sett’ng Room”; a shrine to the wild west full of dark leather furniture, classic western movies, and Indian horse-hair rugs. I adored “The Sett’ng Room”, this is one of my favourite passages about it, since it's quite long I've put the best bit in bold:

“Layton used to think the Sett’ng Room was the greatest thing since grilled cheese. After church on Sundays, Father and he would sit together all afternoon watching Westerns that played continuously on the TV in the southeast corner of the room. Behind the set there was a vast yet carefully selected library of VHS tapes. Red River, Stage Coach, The Searchers, Ride The High Country, My Darling Clementine, Who Shot Liberty Valance?, Monte Walsh, The Treasure of the Sierre Madre – I was not an active watcher like Father and Layton, but I had been exposed to these films so many times through osmosis, they felt less like feats of cinema and more like my most intimate recurring dreams. I often returned home from school to the muted rattle of guns or the sweaty canter of hooves on this strange television, Father’s version of the eternal flame. He was too busy to watch it during the middle of the day, but I think he took comfort in knowing that it was on in here while he was out there.”

 

T.S is an equally wonderful character. The book is told in first person from his perspective, and by using T.S’ point of view Larson manages to present the world from the highly intelligent, analytical view of a talented mapmaker, but with all the innocence and naivety of a child. I think it’s quite a feat that he’s pulled that off so well as in my experience it’s very unique to this book.

Larson’s writing is yet another factor that made The Selected Works a joy to read, it’s so poetic that it’s really hard to choose just one quote to illustrate it’s fabulousness. But this paragraph really struck me as great writing:

“We pounded along, my father’s hand on top of the wheel, his weak pinky cocked slightly upward. I watched the bats crackle and plunge against the sky. Such light things. Theirs was a world of reflection and deflection, of constant conversation with surface and solid. It was a life I could not endure: they never knew they were here; they only knew the echo of there.”

But as the novel progressed it became increasingly different to my expectations. It became increasingly surreal, to me anyway. (Beware, some spoilers start here) I’m not sure how I feel about the direction the book took once T.S arrives in Washington. The deranged hobo stabbing him, the secret society, and a whole lot of other plot points threw me. Admittedly it was never a realistic plot in the first place, but it seemed to merge further into fantasy as it went along. I didn’t dislike it, but I didn’t love it. Not as much as when it was set in Montana. I think I also really missed the counterpoint of Father and the ranch to balance out T.S’ quirky character.

But never-the-less The Selected Works is a highly imaginative, enjoyable debut novel from Larson and I'd definitely recommend it. It's one of the most interesting reading experiences I've had this year.

 

My first book post in ages yay! Last month I only finished The Intimate Adventures of a London Call Girl by Belle de Jour... which, although in parts was very amusing, on the whole was rather too raunchy for me to think of anything to say in a blog post!

Since then I've finished North and South by Elizabeth Glaskell. For those unfamiliar with it, it was first published in England in 1955 and is a bit like a Jane Austen novel (Gaskell called it an industrial rewriting of Pride and Prejudice), but in my opinion more complex; both emotionally and due to its political facets.

Here is the plot description from the back of my Vintage edition:

"Milton is a sooty, noisy northern town centred around the cotton mills that employ most of its inhabitants. Arriving from a rural idyll in the South, Margaret Hale is initially shocked by the social unrest and poverty she finds in her new home town. However, as she begins to befriend her neighbours, n her stormy relationship with the mill-owner John Thornton develops, she starts to see Milton in a different light."

I quite enjoyed North and South, but I think I would have liked it much more had I not seen the fantastic 2004 BBC miniseries. As a 550 something pages long book the storyline really dragged on in places, by contrast the BBC adaption was taut, polished and full of sexual tension, while remaining largely faithful to the book. Margaret and Mr Thornton FINALLY getting together was so drawn out in the book that it felt very anticlimactic, but because the series was much faster pacedits conclusion didn't give off that impression. It's very unusual an adaptation of something would overshadow it so much for me!

I'm not sure I liked Margaret's character in the book, she had very little insight into her own feelings and into the hearts of those around her for the majority of it. Thornton, on the other hand, was very likeable. He was strong, decisive and steady.

The politics surrounding the mills and the manufacture of cotton were very interesting in places, but could drag on at times. One character, Bessie, was dying from the fluff that got into her lungs while working in a mill. Apparently this was common in the mills in England during this time period. Gaskell mentions how some masters would install fans to prevent this, but some of the workers would complain because the lack of the cotton filling their lungs left them hungrier and meant they would have to spend more money on food. Apparently this was the reality for a lot of mill workers at that time.

The book was first published in serialised form in Charles Dickens' Household Words magazine. According to the introduction, Gaskell was furious when Dickens wrote Hard Times, also about cotton mills. She felt he was ripping off her work. I thought this was an interesting piece of trivia!

The following are my favourite quotes, the first two show the ongoing motif of hands throughout the book, and all of them show Gaskell's poetic way of writing.

"She looked as if she was not attending to the conversation, but solely busy with the tea-cups, among which her round ivory hands moved with pretty, noiseless daintiness. She had abracelet on one taper arm, which would fall down over her round wrist. Mr Thornton watched the replacing of this troublesome ornament with far more attention than he listened to her father. It seemed as if it fascinated him to see her push it up impatiently until it tightened her soft flesh; and then to mark the loosening - the fall. He could almost have exclaimed - "There it goes again!""

"She handed him his cup of tea with the proud air of an unwilling slave; but her eye caught the moment when he was ready for another cup; and he almost longed to ask her to do for him what he saw her compelled to do for her father, who took her little finger and thumb in his masculine hand, and made them serve as sugar tongs."

"These dinners were delightful; but even here Margaret's dissatisfaction found her out. Every talent, every feeling, every acquirement; nay, even every tendency towards virtue, was used up as materials for fireworks; the hidden, sacred fire exhausted itself in sparkle and crackle. They talked about art in a merely sensuous way, dwelling on outside effects, instead of allowing themselves to learn what it has to teach. They lashed themselves up into an enthusiasm about high subjects in company, and never thought about them when they were alone; they squandered their capabilities of appreciation into a mere flow of appropriate words."

In short, enjoyable, worth a read, but encapsulated pretty well in the BBC mini-series.

I wonder if I could include this in my Jane Austen Challenge (Also see Kristie's post and Michelle's post) since it's supposed to be an industrial rewriting of Pride and Prejudice. It seems a bit of a stretch though because Austen seems to have been more of an inspiration for the book rather than an actual origin of it.