Bookish Bits & Bobs: Judging A Book By Its Cover

It will have perhaps become apparent from this weblog that I do not like many things that others find acceptable (through ignorance, apathy, or other reasons), such as ghostwriting, or the notion of changing authors' works after they have died in order to modernise them.

Today, though, I will be contemplating another form of modernisation, and one that I'm not sure which school of thought I fall into regarding it: that of the modernisation of book covers. The saying goes that we should never judge a book by its cover (which metaphorically can also transfer to the advice that we shouldn't judge people before we get to know them), but the fact of the matter is that people do judge real books by their covers, and that this can make or break a book's sales.

I cannot pretend that I know very much about publishing or marketing, but one thing that is clear to the average Joe is this: books today are only very rarely sold with a monotone cover, bearing only the name of the author and its title (and possibly its publisher). There is a reason for this: many average book-buyers (or at least the ones that the industry is trying to attract) have short attention spans and are drawn in by bright colours and modern illustrations. They are unlikely to be attracted to a book that looks too traditional, boring or plain, and consider "the classics" in particular to be boring, irrelevant or too hard. Books that are published in such a format today seem to be titles that are already of elevated status, such as the titles in Penguin's Popular Classics, which are bright lime green with white lettering, and which bear the names of such luminaries as Wilkie Collins and F Scott Fitzgerald.

The idea that classic novels, such as those by Charles Dickens, transcend the trend of every modern book cover having to have an eye-catching picture or font (because they will sell anyway) is slightly fallacious, though: despite the above example of the Penguin Popular Classics, the publishing industry will always be trying to boost sales of classics (as well as of books in general), so it does not necessarily follow that classic authors should be immune to this treatment. Stella Gibbons (I'm thinking particularly of her novel Nightingale Wood, which has been updated by way of illustrations by Sophie Dahl) and Jane Austen have both had their books' covers updated in the past few years; in fact, the updated Jane Austen covers more resemble a Sophie Kinsella novel than a classic body of work that is by now nearly two hundred years old in its entirety.

This is, though, by no means the first time that publishers have tried to update or alter book covers in a desperate bid for more sales. It is quite common for the cover of a book to change between its hardback and paperback publications; the trick of republishing a book once it has been made into a film, only to have the cover bearing the stars of the movie in question, is by no means unheard of; and perhaps most famously, the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling was reissued with different covers for adults because there was a sufficient market for adults who wanted to read the series but who were too embarrassed to be seen with a children's book.

But perhaps the most important question is: does it work? Have publishers caught on to a successful tactic, or are their attempts to boost sales in this way in vain? A quick peruse of the WHSmith and Waterstone's bestseller charts this week shows that all of the books, without exception, have big bold letters, bright colours, and modern illustrations. Maybe the publishers are onto something here; maybe, tapping into human nature, we find that everyone does judge the book by its cover after all.

update January 2010

# of books read in January: 5
Cumulative total: 5

1. The Blessing (Nancy Mitford)
2. The Plato Papers (Peter Ackroyd)
3. The Hours (Michael Cunningham)
4. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (Mary Ann Shaffer & Annie Barrows)
5. Love in a Cold Climate (Nancy Mitford)

Average number of books per month: 5
% by male authors: 40%
% by female authors: 60%

Reviews on all of the above are still forthcoming. Yes, I know. I fail.

update December 2009

Happy Christmas to you all (and a merry new year!)

You will see below that I did indeed complete the 50 book challenge. Hoorah! But a few targets for next year:

1) Read more French books. Given that I've been living in France for the entirety of 2009, for only 8% of the final count to be in French is frankly an embarrassment.

2) Be better at reviewing books more immediately. Terrible of me, since the whole point of this blog is to review books, to have 10 books that I read in 2009 still needing to be reviewed.

3) Aim for 100 in 2010!

# of books read in December: 3

Final total: 60

1. You Are Here (Bremner, Bird and Fortune)
2. Le Dossier: How To Survive The English (Sarah Long)
3. Du phonographe au MP3 (Ludovic Tournès)
4. Where Angels Fear To Tread (E. M. Forster)
5. Born on a Blue Day (Daniel Tammet)
6. The Tale of Genji (Lady Murasaki; tr. Arthur Waley)
7. The Comedy of Errors (William Shakespeare)
8. The Golden Gate (Vikram Seth)
9. Al Capone Does My Shirts (Gennifer Choldenko)
10. A History of Modern Britain (Andrew Marr)
11. The Power and the Glory (Graham Greene)
12. Le CV de Dieu (Jean-Louis Fournier)
13. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (Jonathan Safran Foer)
14. The Music of Silence (Andrea Bocelli)
15. Love (Toni Morrison)
16. Class: The Secret Diary of a Teacher in Turmoil (Jane Beaton)
17. The Wives of Bath (Susan Swan)
18. The Penelopiad (Margaret Atwood)
19. The Queen and I (Sue Townsend)
20. Molly Fox's Birthday (Deirdre Madden)
21. Daisy Miller (Henry James)
22. The Rules of Attraction (Bret Easton Ellis)
23. Gods Behaving Badly (Marie Phillips)
24. Cold Comfort Farm (Stella Gibbons)
25. The Crucible (Arthur Miller)
26. The British Museum is Falling Down (David Lodge)
27. them (Joyce Carol Oates)
28. Flaubert's Parrot (Julian Barnes)
29. Adrian Mole: The Cappuccino Years (Sue Townsend)
30. Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury)
31. Tears of Darkness: The Story of the Bataan Death March and its Aftermath (Michael and Elizabeth Norman)
32. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (Tennessee Williams)
33. Oryx and Crake (Margaret Atwood)
34. Of Mice and Men (John Steinbeck)
35. The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath)
36. The Nigger of the Narcissus (Joseph Conrad)
37. The Past is Myself (Christabel Bielenberg)
38. The Road Ahead (Christabel Bielenberg)
39. The Other Hand (Chris Cleave)
40. Conference at Cold Comfort Farm (Stella Gibbons)
41. The Rules of Engagement (Anita Brookner)
42. Cat's Eye (Margaret Atwood)
43. Three Men In A Boat (Jerome K Jerome)
44. La grammaire est une chanson douce (Erik Orsenna)
45. The Kabul Beauty School (Deborah Rodriguez)
46. Bonfire of the Brands (Neil Boorman)
47. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (Ken Kesey)
48. Hotel du Lac (Anita Brookner)
49. Girl Meets Boy (Ali Smith)
50. Exercices de style (Raymond Queneau)
51. A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian (Marina Lewycka)
52. Weight (Jeanette Winterson)
53. Long Way Down (Nick Hornby)
54. The Woman in White (Wilkie Collins)
55. Choir Boy (Charlie Anders)
56. The Rain Before It Falls (Jonathan Coe)
57. Deaf Sentence (David Lodge)
58. 31 Songs (Nick Hornby)
59. The Thief Lord (Cornelia Funke) - review forthcoming
60. Dear Fatty (Dawn French)

Average number of books per month: 5

% by male authors: 64%
% by female authors: 36%

Dear Fatty (Dawn French)

--The blurb--
"Dawn French is one of the greatest comedy actresses, encompassing a vast and brilliant array of characters. Loved for her irreverent humour, Dawn has achieved massive mainstream success while continuing to push boundaries and challenge stereotypes. This title chronicles the rise of this complex, dynamic and unstoppable woman."

--The review--
The barrage of criticism directed at the cult of the celebrity autobiography is a thoroughly comprehensible one: the profession of ghostwriting is not one that people necessarily want to feed to due its dubious moral quality, especially since it often still results in a low standard of writing, and in any case, is the aspiration to and admiration of celebrity status really something that's worth encouragement?

In Dawn French's case, she is something to aspire to, and her autobiography is certainly worth reading (especially, as is indicated by the quality of the writing and the lack of thinly-veiled acknowledgements, it was almost definitely written by her). The epistolary format is an original method of approaching the autobiography task and gives this tome at least one reason why it stands out on the shelf. Equally, as well as addressing the usual suspects (friends, family, and famous colleagues), French also writes to a few more unusual choices, including Madonna.

Lamentably, though, the Madonna letters were the weakest; while reading, one has the impression that these particular letters would be far more amusing if you were listening to French reading them rather than just reading them on your own in your head, so this could be a legitimate reason to recommend the audiobook over the print version. Refreshingly little time is given to The Vicar of Dibley, with French spending an equal amount of time on all of her various exploits, including her childhood and on her poignant attempts to conceive. The personal and professional aspects of the autobiography are well-blended (and not just because of French's well-known marriage to other famous comedian, Lenny Henry).

French's humour also, predictably, comes into full force, with the passage about babysitters' apologies being a surefire laugh-out-loud moment. She successfully manages to blend this humour with poignancy and high-quality writing to create a really excellent autobiography which should be stocked at the front of every bookshop's celebrity section (and if those by Jordan and other such ilk could languish in the bargain bin - or recycling bin - that would be great too).

The Thief Lord (Cornelia Funke)

--The blurb--
"Winter has come early to Venice. Two orphaned children are on the run, hiding among the crumbling canals and misty alleyways of the city. Befriended by a gang of street children and their mysterious leader, the Thief Lord, they shelter in an old, disused cinema. On their trail is a bungling detective, obsessed with disguises and the health of his pet tortoises. But a greater threat to the boys' new-found freedom is something from a forgotten past - a beautiful magical treasure with the power to spin time itself."

--The review--
www.amazon.com 's description of this novel invites you to "imagine a Dickens novel with a Venetian setting" in order to get a sense of The Thief Lord, and this is both an intriguing and accurate description, even though any feelings of trepidation and/or cynicism experienced upon starting to read are certainly understandable. It is, after all, just a kids' book. However, this particular kids' book exceeds expectations: the characters are realistically sketched, the writing is sublime, descriptive, vivid and accessible, and these things combined with the unique plot and setting make this a riveting read (and, for adults, a quick one too).

Funke's Italian is also accurate and used to good effect, without seeming pretentious or precluding understanding (though she does also include a glossary in the back of the book in order to be extra helpful); the vocabulary used is also suitably stretching without being offputting. However, in contrast, there are some careless clangers dropped in English that were obviously not picked up by Funke's editors. This is easily compensated for, though, by the fact of pace being kept tight and chapters being kept short, which facilitates reading even without the virtues of Funke's skilful imagery and characterisation. The cast of characters is varied but small, and each has their role to play in the storyline. They come and go like shadows, but all loose ends are tied up by the novel's end (and with quite remarkable cleverness at that - not just in the field of children's literature, but generally).

Better than this, though, is that almost Roald Dahl-style, every character gets their just desserts. Upon closing the book, there are no more questions left to be asked; the reader is assured that Fate has had its way and that justice is appropriately dispensed. We no longer wonder what will happen to the novel's main characters, but we do wonder what is next for Cornelia Funke, as more of her work sets sail for the harbour of children's literature that is set to echo down the ages.

Other works by Cornelia Funke
Inkheart (2003)*
Dragon Rider (2004)
Inkspell (2005)*
When Santa Fell To Earth (2006)
Ghosthunters and the Incredibly Revolting Ghost (2006)¨
Ghosthunters and the Gruesome Invincible Lightning Ghost (2006)¨
Igraine The Brave (2007)
Ghosthunters and the Totally Moldy Baroness (2007)¨
Ghosthunters and the Muddy Monster of Doom (2007)¨
Inkdeath (2008)*

*part of the Inkworld trilogy
¨part of the Ghosthunters series

31 Songs (Nick Hornby)

--The blurb--
"Here, Nick Hornby writes about 31 songs - most of them loved, some of them once loved, all of them significant to him. He begins with Teenage Fanclub's "Your Love is the Place that I Come From" and ends with Patti Smith's "Pissing in a River", encompassing varied singers along the way, such as Van Morrison and Nelly Furtado, and songs as different as "Thunder Road" and "Puff the Magic Dragon" (reggae style). He discusses, among other things, guitar solos, singers whose teeth whistle and the sort of music you hear in the Body Shop."

--The review--
As was noted in the previous review of Nick Hornby's work on this blog, he often keeps readers on their toes with his subject matter. He's just not the kind of writer who'll be bringing out "About A Boy 2: The Sequel" at some time in the future. Not that this precludes writers who do do this (such as Tony Parsons, or Helen Fielding, or Sue Townsend, or JK Rowling...) from being good or successful writers; Hornby is just a different kind of writer. This particular venture stays away from fiction altogether, choosing to instead explore songs that have figured highly in the author's life so far.

This is a risky strategy on multiple levels. Alongside the obvious point that some of Hornby's favourites listed in this book (I'm thinking particularly of relatively contemporary favourites, such as Nelly Furtado's "I'm Like A Bird") may quickly date and possibly also become superseded by other, more contemporary choices, a more serious pitfall may lie in the fact that such a book may be of quite a personal nature - and, more than this, be so specific to Hornby himself that readers may fail to find in it much in the way of relevance or value to their own lives.

Upon starting the book, however, this quickly ceases to be a concern (the only risk being one of envy at Hornby's clearly eclectic music taste). While reading through the book and feeling Hornby's enthusiasm for the songs he writes about does make you want to listen to them to hear what he's talking of for yourself, in a strange way it doesn't actually matter which songs are being discussed, for the dominant themes being discussed are the life lessons that the author has taken from them - and we all have songs that have made us feel this way. Even though there are poignant personal moments featured that clearly are specific to the writer, such as the disabilities of his son, this does not detract from the book's universal appeal - rather, it lends it a more interesting extra dimension in a book that is already seriously multifaceted.

Its structure - a series of short essays - makes it easy to pick up and put down again according to a reader's whims, and in typical Hornby fashion, the quality of the writing is high. If any improvements could be made, it would be for Hornby to take a leaf out of Alex Ross's book - the author of And The Rest Is Noise links the reader to a website that features all of the tracks that are talked about. Because regardless of a book's universality, it's pretty rare for any book to douse the flame of human curiosity.

Bookish Bits & Bobs: Lost in Translation

In September 2008, I emigrated to France, with the idea of remaining here permanently. And here I remain, and here I am happy (for now, but with the hope of that never changing). I was in the fortunate position of already having a fair grasp of the language before coming here, and while the best way of improving one's day-to-day use of the language comes through contemporary engagement with it (e.g., through French speakers - check -, through contemporary print media such as free metro magazines - check -, and through other contemporary media sources such as television and radio - erm, half a check, since we don't have and have no intention of acquiring a TV), I do also enjoy the privilege of being able to read books in the language. While this may not improve my contemporary French much (in the way of idioms and whathaveyou), it can only solidify other things, such as grammatical knowledge and vocabulary.

The joy of reading is pleasantly widened when one is given the chance to read in multiple languages, not only by the access to a greater range of stories but also in terms of cultural and linguistic access. And yet this joy is paradoxically tainted: very few novels are translated into English (relative to the number that are actually released in their original language) and while in some cases it is perhaps for the best, the aforementioned joy is at times tainted with the paradox that others will not be able to share it with you, since the lack of translation means there is no way that they will be able to read it in the near future.

This, to me, is still something of a puzzle. Why is so little work translated into the most popular languages (let's say, for the sake of argument, that these are English, Spanish and Chinese)? Why wouldn't publishers and agents want their authors' work to have maximum worldwide exposure? Is it due to a lack of interest from readers (perceived or actual)? Is it to do with the financial risk involved? Is it down to a lack of translators? Or something else?

Certainly the translator's task is no easy one; this is something that David Lodge acknowledges publicly in the foreword to his 2008 novel Deaf Sentence, which frequently draws on puns relating to deafness and death, including in the novel's title. To this end, he offers up his novel as a dedication to the translators by way of advance apology. But it is not only the translation of idioms that challenges translators - the uses of language that inextricably bind culture into them, such as the French 'tu' and 'vous', can often go horribly wrong in translation. In one particular translation of Pippi Longstocking, where the Swedish equivalent of this is handled quite badly, it took me years to understand what the series' original author, Astrid Lindgren, had been driving at in Pippi's rudeness towards her teacher.

This is certainly an issue of unending contention. However, we can only expect it to decline further if more literature lovers do not take languages at school and university (in the wake of the UK Labour goverment's policy by which foreign languages are no longer compulsory after the age of 14, when most only take up a second language at 11 as it is, fewer and fewer choose to study another language further and with any gravity). If the importance of other languages is not emphasised, so that the sharing of ideas the world over can be facilitated, even more books can be expected to be lost in the gulf of translation.

Deaf Sentence (David Lodge)

--The blurb--
"When the university merged his Department of English with Linguistics, Professor Desmond Bates took early retirement, but he is not enjoying it. He misses the routine of the academic year and has lost his appetite for research. His wife Winifred's late-flowering career goes from strength to strength, reducing his role to that of escort, while the rejuvenation of her appearance makes him uneasily conscious of the age gap between them. The monotony of his days is relieved only by wearisome journeys to London to check on his aged father who stubbornly refuses to leave the house he is patently unable to live in with safety. But these discontents are nothing compared to the affliction of hearing loss — a constant source of domestic friction and social embarrassment, leading Desmond into mistakes, misunderstandings and follies. It might be comic for others, but for the deaf person himself, it is no joke. It is his deafness which inadvertently involves Desmond with a young woman whose wayward behaviour threatens to destabilize his life completely."

--The review--
You could be forgiven for thinking that Lodge was a one-trick pony: in taking the maxim of 'writing what you know' almost to an extreme, his experiences of Catholicism and academia are recurring themes in several of his books. It's perhaps therefore difficult at times to pinpoint exactly what keeps his readers coming back, and certainly this latest effort from Lodge takes time to gather momentum, due precisely to this repetition of themes. However, as the novel gathers pace, and readers become ever more drawn into his manipulation of character and plot, it is easier to see where Lodge's mastery lies. Arguably this is Lodge at his best, with more focus on the human situation and less on the lampooning of academia.

The novel's central themes of deafness and of life and death cleverly intertwine, right from the pun in the book's very title, which must make this a difficult piece of work for translators (something that the author acknowledges in the novel's dedication). However, while the tale of decline of the protagonist's father, and the sinister edge that is introduced by the bizarre Alex, one could say that this novel is less about death and more about life's multifarious peculiarities, though this would imply that the novel had an overriding message. It is more correct to say that it doesn't: it is affirmative, but not didactic, and rather than pushing an underlying moral, readers are left instead to make their own inferences.

As mentioned, too, Lodge focuses very precisely on the novel's human elements by zoning in on a small number of characters, rather than relying on the internal and complex politics of university departments, which perhaps allows the notion that this is among Lodge's more accessible works of fiction. It is stronger and more believable overall than The British Museum is Falling Down (in spite of the aforementioned slightly bizarre and macabre elements), and will without doubt reach a wider audience than Lodge's non-fiction works. Lodge is a visible and active member of the academic and literary communities already, and this novel only continues to cement his already laudable status.

Other works by David Lodge
The Picturegoers (1960)
Ginger You're Barmy (1962)
The British Museum is Falling Down (1965)
Out of the Shelter (1970)
Changing Places (1975)
How Far Can You Go? (1980)
Small World: An Academic Romance (1984)
Nice Work (1988)
Paradise News (1991)
Therapy (1995)
The Man Who Wouldn't Get Up (1998)
Home Truths (1999)
Thinks... (2001)
Author, Author (2004)

update November 2009

# of books read in November: 7

Cumulative total: 57

1. You Are Here (Bremner, Bird and Fortune)
2. Le Dossier: How To Survive The English (Sarah Long)
3. Du phonographe au MP3 (Ludovic Tournès)
4. Where Angels Fear To Tread (E. M. Forster)
5. Born on a Blue Day (Daniel Tammet)
6. The Tale of Genji (Lady Murasaki; tr. Arthur Waley)
7. The Comedy of Errors (William Shakespeare)
8. The Golden Gate (Vikram Seth)
9. Al Capone Does My Shirts (Gennifer Choldenko)
10. A History of Modern Britain (Andrew Marr)
11. The Power and the Glory (Graham Greene)
12. Le CV de Dieu (Jean-Louis Fournier)
13. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (Jonathan Safran Foer)
14. The Music of Silence (Andrea Bocelli)
15. Love (Toni Morrison)
16. Class: The Secret Diary of a Teacher in Turmoil (Jane Beaton)
17. The Wives of Bath (Susan Swan)
18. The Penelopiad (Margaret Atwood)
19. The Queen and I (Sue Townsend)
20. Molly Fox's Birthday (Deirdre Madden)
21. Daisy Miller (Henry James)
22. The Rules of Attraction (Bret Easton Ellis)
23. Gods Behaving Badly (Marie Phillips)
24. Cold Comfort Farm (Stella Gibbons)
25. The Crucible (Arthur Miller)
26. The British Museum is Falling Down (David Lodge)
27. them (Joyce Carol Oates)
28. Flaubert's Parrot (Julian Barnes)
29. Adrian Mole: The Cappuccino Years (Sue Townsend)
30. Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury)
31. Tears of Darkness: The Story of the Bataan Death March and its Aftermath (Michael and Elizabeth Norman)
32. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (Tennessee Williams)
33. Oryx and Crake (Margaret Atwood)
34. Of Mice and Men (John Steinbeck)
35. The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath)
36. The Nigger of the Narcissus (Joseph Conrad)
37. The Past is Myself (Christabel Bielenberg)
38. The Road Ahead (Christabel Bielenberg)
39. The Other Hand (Chris Cleave)
40. Conference at Cold Comfort Farm (Stella Gibbons)
41. The Rules of Engagement (Anita Brookner)
42. Cat's Eye (Margaret Atwood)
43. Three Men In A Boat (Jerome K Jerome)
44. La grammaire est une chanson douce (Erik Orsenna)
45. The Kabul Beauty School (Deborah Rodriguez)
46. Bonfire of the Brands (Neil Boorman)
47. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (Ken Kesey)
48. Hotel du Lac (Anita Brookner)
49. Girl Meets Boy (Ali Smith)
50. Exercices de style (Raymond Queneau)
51. A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian (Marina Lewycka)
52. Weight (Jeanette Winterson)
53. Long Way Down (Nick Hornby)
54. The Woman in White (Wilkie Collins)
55. Choir Boy (Charlie Anders)
56. The Rain Before It Falls (Jonathan Coe)
57. Deaf Sentence (David Lodge)

Average number of books per month: 5

% by male authors: 55%
% by female authors: 45%

The Rain Before It Falls (Jonathan Coe)

--The blurb--
"In the latest from acclaimed London novelist Coe (The Rotters' Club), the story of two cousins' friendship is key to a hatred that is handed down from mother to daughter across generations, as in a Greek tragedy. Evacuated from London to her aunt and uncle's Shropshire farm, Rosamond bonds with her older cousin, Beatrix, who is emotionally abused by her mother. Beatrix grows up to abuse her daughter, Thea, with repercussions that reach the next generation. All of this is narrated in retrospect by an elderly Rosamond into a tape recorder: she is recording the family's history for Imogen, Beatrix's granddaughter, who is blind, and whom Rosamond hasn't seen in 20 years. As the story progresses, it becomes clear that Rosamond's fundamental flaw and limit is her decency, a quality Coe weaves beautifully into the Shropshire and London settings — along with violence."

--The review--
Coe's literary history shows him to be a diverse and successful author: while he has one adapted-for-television series under his belt in the form of The Rotters' Club and The Closed Circle, he knew to quit while he was ahead and moved onto other equally accomplished novels that also became best-sellers. The Rain Before It Falls is no different: it is evolutionary, revolutionary, experimental, and emotional - so, in short, a real tour de force for Coe that shows no sign of deceleration or decline.

While the cast of characters and the connections between them are initially overwhelming, it is this along with the novel's non-linear, almost epistolary format, that helps to keep you on your toes until these things become more familiar. Once these aspects have slotted seamlessly into the background of the reader's mind, it is the pace and suspense created by the tenacity of the plot that keep the reader hooked and make this novel into a sure-fire winner. If there is a weakness, it is in Coe's link between the title and his text: at times it feels strained and contrived, and it is always less effective when the reader is told how to interpret the title through the text, rather than just being left to work it out for themselves.

Coe certainly meets his challenge in not only being able to portray the speech and thoughts of characters of several different generations, but also recreates realistic female voices, which is not to be underestimated given the notorious difficulties inherent in writing as the opposite sex. He even meets this criterion consistently in the protagonist, Rosamond, whose voice is the one that readers hear for the majority of the book. The ending is quietly dramatic while remaining somehow fitting; the threads of the novel are easily traceable without being predictable, and all is well tied up. And despite the decisive conclusions that are drawn, one wants to read and reread The Rain Before it Falls, in order to keep on unwrapping its various layers, and to know the characters so intimately that they are almost friends - something that Coe always achieves masterfully.

Other works by Jonathan Coe
The Accidental Woman (1987)
A Touch of Love (1989)
The Dwarves of Death (1990)
What A Carve Up! (1994)
The House of Sleep (1997)
The Rotters' Club (2001)
The Closed Circle (2004)
The Terrible Privacy of Maxwell Sim (2010)