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 (at the time of writing) 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)
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)

Choir Boy (Charlie Anders)

--The blurb--
"Twelve-year-old choirboy Berry wants nothing more than to remain a choirboy, surrounded by perfect notes, as opposed to his imperfect, quarreling parents. Choral music and the prospect of divinity thrill him. Desperate to keep his voice from changing, he tries to injure himself, and then convinces a clinic to give him testosterone-inhibiting drugs. The hormone pills keep Berry's voice from deepening but also cause him to grow breasts. Suddenly Berry faces a world of unexpected gender issues that push him into a universe far more complex than anything he has experienced. A fantastical coming-of-age story, Choir Boy combines off-kilter humor and its own brand of modern day magic in a rollicking, bittersweet story about growing up different."

--The review--
The ambiguously-named Berry is the centre of this unusual coming-of-age story, where the focus shifts from music and growing up to altogether more sobering issues. Anders clearly knows her stuff when it comes to the music, displaying an impressive breadth of knowledge and appreciation thereof; and, as the book goes on, the denouement becomes so realistic that readers get the impression that Anders also knows a fair amount about many of the other topics raised in the novel. A few morsels of research quickly reveal that this is indeed the case: Anders, like her main character, identifies as a male to female transgendered person. Writing what you know, then, certainly applies here.

The way in which this novel's plot evolves is intriguing and suitably gradual: Berry goes from wanting to stay in a boy-like state merely in order to preserve his beautiful singing voice, but this simple desire accumulates further depth as he realises that in order to stay female-like in terms of his voice, this to an extent involves 'playing the game' a bit (so that the medical professionals will continue to give him the medication that he needs to achieve this, he also needs to play the role of a woman in terms of dressing in female clothing, although the breasts accorded to him by the medication are helpful in this regard too). The novel therefore centres decreasingly around music and more on questions of gender and identity, and where the transsexual and transgendered really belong. Should they use male or female toilets? Should they wear male or female clothes? And should Berry be allowed to remain in the boys' choir that he has always been part of, or will he be made to join the girls' choir instead?

The feeling that Anders knows what she is talking about and the realism with which she expresses this leads the reader to feel a great sense of understanding and empathy towards Berry and others like him. But this is not to say that the book is a hippy love-fest: rest assured, the changes that Berry undergoes, both physically and emotionally, wreak extreme trauma and argument between him and those he cares for. His semi-girlfriend, Lisa, provides a welcome force of balance in amongst all this confusion and angst. Additionally, some of the scenes in the novel are horrifying: with Berry's revulsion towards becoming a man comes some graphic scenes of self-mutilation. This is not for the faint-hearted and Anders jumps in with this relatively early in the book, making one's first encounter with her work a real baptism of fire.

Anders is already a famous face in the science fiction community due to her writing output elsewhere. However, her arresting prose in this fiction debut puts her up there with writers such as Chris Cleave as a significant talent of the past decade, and I have a feeling that we'll be hearing a lot more from her as the years roll on.

Other works by Charlie Anders
The Lazy Crossdresser (2002)
She's Such A Geek: Women Write About Science, Technology, and Other Nerdy Stuff (2006; with Annalee Newitz)

The Woman in White (Wilkie Collins)

--The blurb--
"The Woman in White famously opens with Walter Hartright's eerie encounter on a moonlit London road. Engaged as a drawing master to the beautiful Laura Fairlie, Walter is drawn into the sinister intrigues of Sir Percival Glyde and his 'charming' friend Count Fosco, who has a taste for white mice, vanilla bonbons and poison. Pursuing questions of identity and insanity along the paths and corridors of English country houses and the madhouse, The Woman in White is the first and most influential of the Victorian genre that combined Gothic horror with psychological realism."

--The review--
Popularity is in a way like a runaway freight train: for whatever reason, a thing becomes popular. People then choose to read, consume or experience it because it is popular, thus making it more popular...and so it goes on. The marginalised, however, rightly or wrongly, in most cases remain so. Wilkie Collins is arguably an author of the latter category: while his novels The Moonstone and The Woman in White are relatively well-known, he and his other works have fallen by the wayside, while his contemporary and colleague, Charles Dickens, jumped aboard said runaway train with aplomb and has not got off since. However, those seeking a slightly off-road challenge will undoubtedly be rewarded with The Woman in White.

Even though there is certainly a little Miss Havisham in Anne Catherick (one of the novel's main personages), Collins is decidedly his own writer and not just a mere Dickens knockoff. While the character of Walter Hartright is clearly meant to seem dashing but only gives a slightly insipid impression, this is more than compensated for by the other characters. Marian provides stability and momentum, with Count Fosco adding the requisite wickedness and Laura being there to be appropriately lovely and simpering. Further to this, Collins combines traditional themes and genres (mystery, identity, madness) in a way that makes the novel really quite unusual. Surprise and suspense await the reader at every turn, and while there are one or two inconsistencies or instances where a little more clarity would be helpful, this on the whole does not impede understanding or enjoyment.

Atmosphere is deftly created and maintained, and the vast country residence shrouded in Victorian fog suitably foreshadows other successful classics, such as Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden. Narrative voices are changed well and for good, realistic reasons (with said reasons being revealed either at the time or towards the end of the book, as is fitting). It is perhaps testament to the book's gripping and compulsive nature that readers find themselves fervently wishing for characters to have justice be served, even when at times this seems at its most improbable; thankfully, though, they do, and the book is made all the better for it. Even though we would certainly all get fed up if books constantly presented us with happy endings, here it works well. It is almost astounding that Collins should be so in the shadow of his better-known contemporaries; those who brush him aside are missing out on a cache of fabulous reads.

Other works by Wilkie Collins
Basil (1852)
No Name (1862)
Armadale (1866)
The Moonstone (1868)
Poor Miss Finch (1872)
The Law and the Lady (1875)
The Black Robe (1881)

A Long Way Down (Nick Hornby)

--The blurb--
"Narrated in turns by a dowdy, middle-aged woman, a half-crazed adolescent, a disgraced breakfast TV presenter and an American rock star cum pizza delivery boy, A Long Way Down is the story of the Toppers House Four, aka Maureen, Jess, Martin and JJ. A low-rent crowd with absolutely nothing in common - save where they end up that New Year's Eve night. And what they do next, of course. Funny, sad, and wonderfully humane, Nick Hornby's new novel asks some of the big questions: about life and death, strangers and friendship, love and pain, and whether a slice of pizza can really see you through a long, dark night of the soul."

--The review--
The downside of the writers' maxim "write what you know" is that this causes some writers to be guilty of monotony. Nick Hornby is not one of these - while similar characters may occasionally reappear, the situations in which they find themselves are so wildly diverse that this is soon forgotten. In A Long Way Down, Hornby also throws together an almost completely random cast, too, and kicks off in medias res, so that the reader's main goal is to work out how this kaleidoscope of characters all ended up in the same place, with the same aim, at the same time.

This in itself is immediately attention-grabbing, as is the darkly awkward backdrop against which it's set. Hornby takes a risk with grouping four people on the roof of a tall building with the same shared purpose of committing suicide, as it initially seems to the reader that there's only one way this could go: presumably they cannot actually go through with their aim, or there would be no book. Indeed, the answer to this question is repeatedly deferred, but the deferral is not irritating: it allows us to find out more about the characters, reach a conclusion that is (arguably) more appropriate than the obvious, and carry out a stark assessment of the ways in which we view the problems of others. There is superficiality in droves, but in spite of this, all of the characters seem equally seriously trapped, and it is easy for us to see how they might believe that this is the only way out.

Subsidiary characters are also well-developed - even those whom we actually never meet, such as Jess' sister Jen. They are all accorded the required level of importance to make the novel an effective one, and it is perhaps this that contributes to the resolutions that occur at the novel's end (resolutions which, it should be mentioned, do their job well without everyone necessarily sailing off into the sunset). The novel is unconventional, so it's worth going in with patience and an open mind. It is different to Hornby's previous work; instinct tells me that it is perhaps also not as good, though perhaps only rereadings will be able to confirm that. It was certainly a gamble for Hornby, who could easily stay in the romantic comedy genre for the entirety of his career (or even not write again at all should he so wish), but maybe it is only through such risky bets that real winners emerge.

Other works by Nick Hornby
High Fidelity (1995)
About A Boy (1998)
How To Be Good (2001)
Slam (2007)
Juliet, Naked (2009)

Weight (Jeanette Winterson)

--The blurb--
"In ancient Greek mythology, Atlas, a member of the original race of gods called Titans, leads a rebellion against the new deities, the Olympians. With her typical wit and verve, Winterson brings Atlas into the 21st century."

--The review--
Jeanette Winterson is well-known for making fairly big and public splashes, both in terms of her literary success and in terms of her personal life. It is obvious why she is able to capture the interest of the general public and its literati just from the first few pages of Weight, even for those who have never before read any Winterson work. This novella is well-written, poetic (yet lucid), surprisingly modern, arresting, and intelligent. Winterson says that as soon as she was asked to write an instalment of the Canongate Myths series, she knew 'even before hanging up the phone' that Atlas and Heracles would be her choice.

It is therefore mystifying, then, to find that even despite the above characteristics, the end result is not better. It is an enjoyable and quick read, to be sure, but it is ultimately forgettable (thankfully its length does not preclude multiple readings so that this may be tempered). It is equally unfortunate for Winterson that her underlying thread in the novella of "wanting to tell the story again" seems contrived and unnecessary; it doesn't really wash. Consequently, then, this is unlikely to be one of Winterson's most enduring works, even if it does sit well in the company of the other titles in the Canongate Myths series (and I say this even despite the fact that Ali Smith's and Margaret Atwood's respective contributions to the series are more memorable). I can also appreciate how one's liking of the book may mature with multiple readings.

This Winterson attempt at modernising myth may appeal to younger readers who are seeking their first introduction to the realms of ancient legend, but equally they may be put off. I would encourage the beginning seekers to try something else instead, and perhaps save this for another time.

Other works by Jeanette Winterson
Orange Are Not The Only Fruit (1985)
Sexing The Cherry (1989)
The World and Other Places (1998)

update October 2009

# of books read in October: 6

Cumulative total: 50 (target met! yay!)

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. A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian (Marina Lewycka) - review forthcoming

Average number of books per month: 5

% by male authors: 50%
% by female authors: 50%

A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian (Marina Lewycka)

--The blurb--
"Two years after his wife dies, Nikolai, a Ukrainian who migrated to London after the Second World War, meets and falls for Valentina, a fellow Ukrainian who is nearly 50 years his junior. His daughters, Vera and Nadia, who have had a poor relationship with each other since their mother died, suspect Valentina of being after Nikolai’s money and of wanting a way to ensure that she and her son can remain in the West. Valentina is brash and manipulative, but she unites the previously feuding Vera and Nadia in their desire to have her removed back home. As a result of their renewed contact with each other, Nadia learns of family secrets."

--The review--
In setting us up with an outwardly classic scenario (old man falls for bimbo barely half his age), one could be forgiven for thinking that this might be a predictable or boring read. However, even from the unconventional title itself, Lewycka immediately shows us that this is not the case at all, and from the novel's first moments, the traditional Ukraine collides with modern-day Britain with a crash.

None of the characters are painted as angels; they all have their very realistic faults. While Vera and Nadia come across as being fairly normal, they are contrasted by the extreme caricatures in the forms of Valentina and their father. This is realistic and well-sustained as well as being imbued with pathos when appropriate; and, despite the fact that all characters come from the same foreign country, and despite the fact of Valentina and Nikolai likely having the same level of English, and Vera and Nadia sharing a similar level too, the dialogue never becomes two-dimensional, with Lewycka managing to maintain distinct personalities and unwavering mastery of dialect. The novel is very sensory and visual as a result, thanks to this successful development of character as the foreground to the often murky physical settings.

Equally, pace and humour play their part, and it becomes easy to see how this novel propelled Marina Lewycka to seemingly overnight acclaim. The reader becomes tranfixed by the text, wanting to see the novel through to its (highly fitting) end. While the ways in which Lewycka transforms the basic situation make it unique, it still remains grounded enough for readers to see places, circumstances, and even people that they know in the novel's web. Even though extracts from Nikolai's book (from which the title comes) can drag a bit, and seem dry in comparison to the rest of the novel, one suspects that this was exactly Lewycka's intention. The result is a compelling, amusing read that should hook even the most cynical onto the author's work; I certainly look forward to dipping my toe into more.

Other works by Marina Lewycka
Two Caravans (2007)
We Are All Made of Glue (2009)

Exercices de style (Raymond Queneau)

--The blurb--
"On a crowded bus at midday, Raymond Queneau observes one man accusing another of jostling him deliberately. When a seat is vacated, the first man appropriates it. Later, in another part of town, Queneau sees the man being advised by a friend to sew another button on his overcoat. "Exercises in Style" retells this unexceptional tale ninety-nine times in ninety-nine different styles. An 'Abusive' chapter heartily deplores the events, 'Opera English' lends them grandeur. Raymond Queneau rendered Barbara Wright (the English translator) his 'heartiest congratulations', adding, 'I have always thought that nothing is untranslatable. Here is new proof'."

--The review--
While a great deal of foreign literature is translated, it often remains a niche interest, with very few people being aware of the authors and works in question. Raymind Queneau is one of these hidden gems, being in his lifetime a prolific poet and essayist as well as academic and author. He has not even risen to stardom significantly more following the publication of a graphical version of Exercices de style by Matt Madden four years ago. So how does such a successful French author remain so minor when his works are translated into English?

Queneau relies heavily, in several of his works, upon wordplay, which may not always translate well or hold appeal for a wider audience. Others may not resonate well with the sense of humour of other countries, or run the risk of seeming so pretentious that they pass the regular reader by. Liking some of Queneau's novels perhaps relies on a love for the surreal or absurd, and none of these qualities build up a picture of an author whose works might be lovable in any sort of mainstream way. Certainly Exercices de style, one of his most well-known works, is best when taken in small doses. The repetitive nature of its construct means there is no narrative thread as such that needs to be followed each time the book is picked up. However, despite the repetitive nature of it, there is, perhaps surprisingly, always something new to find.

Queneau is consistently innovative and imaginative throughout this novella, not only employing voices that will appeal to linguists (the past and present tenses, subjunctive mood, and passive voice appear to name but a few), but also those that appeal to a wider range of interests (such as the chapters centred on gastronomic, zoological, and medical themes). As a classicist I was especially tickled by the chapter on Hellenicisms. This keeps the central, very simple narrative interesting, lacing the story with surprising variety.

The author's style is therefore something of the unexpected. It's unrealistic to expect any work of art to appeal to everyone, but there should be something in this to reach out to a good 90%. It's relatively short, and yet contains a great enough multitude of perspectives to keep readers returning. A great, accessible and slightly wacky introduction to the unconventional Queneau which will take any adventurous reader on a great journey.

Other works by Raymond Queneau
Witch Grass (1933)
The Last Days (1936)
Children of Clay (1938)
A Hard Winter (1939)
Pierrot (1942)
The Skin of Dreams (1944)
We Always Treat Women Too Well (1947)
The Sunday of Life (1952)
Zazie in the Metro (1959)
The Blue Flowers (1965)
The Flight of Icarus (1968)

Girl Meets Boy (Ali Smith)

--The blurb--
"Girl meets boy. It's a story as old as time. But what happens when an old story meets a brand new set of circumstances? Ali Smith's re-mix of Ovid's most joyful metamorphosis is a story about the kind of fluidity that can't be bottled and sold. It is about girls and boys, girls and girls, love and transformation, a story of puns and doubles, reversals and revelations. Funny and fresh, poetic and political, Girl meets boy is a myth of metamorphosis for the modern world."

--The review--
Gender and sexuality are topics that are of perennial significance across the history of literature, with everyone from the Ancient Greeks to Caryl Churchill joining in. The Ancient Greeks, though (since I've picked on them, I might as well carry on), often only referred to the inversion of gender and sexuality in vague, metaphorical terms, with anything more overt, such as cross-dressing, being a specific means to an end (in Aristophanes' Women at the Thesmophoria, for instance, the men dress up, but only to get into a women-only event in order to eavesdrop on the female gossip). Shakespeare continues to use this device mainly only for direct trickery and deception (think of Twelfth Night and The Merchant of Venice to name just two plays where he does this). Modern literature, though, is perhaps getting less comic in its treatment of gender, sexuality, and role reversals thereof: Caryl Churchill's Cloud Nine is funny, but tragic in equal measure, and novels such as Charlie Anders' Choir Boy involve deeper contemplation of sexual identity than the superficial level of mere comedic trickery.

Ali Smith's latest attempt, Girl Meets Boy, also asks more serious questions about what we were and are, and if it really matters, updating the myth of Iphis with startling clarity. The novella's first line is arresting, and the first chapter abounds with contemporary references to television shows, which would normally irritate me, but in this case does not, possibly due to its more natural and relevant (rather than contrived and irrelevant) state. The story has momentum and the settings are realistic as well as being blackly funny. The person who changes everything in the story, Robin, is daring, adventurous, and yet altogether human (though admittedly there is something ethereal or otherworldly about the character too).

Smith is adept with words and is able to keep the reader's attention by being concise, thought-provoking and occasionally witty, bringing the narrative to a satisfying close. The quality of her work not only allows her to secure a place as one of the rising stars of contemporary literature, but this in tandem with her participation in the Canongate Myths series also means that her work is emblematic of the rejuvenation of classical legends in modern times, along with equally staunchly feminist authors such as Margaret Atwood and Jeanette Winterson (who are, perhaps unfairly, rather better known). She achieves her aims while successfully utilising the "write what you know" principle, but not in the lacklustre way of, for example, Alan Hollinghurst. Smith, in conjunction with her contemporaries, uses her work to show us that the way we talk about ourselves and our identities is something that matters, and with Smith and other authors only being at the genesis of explicit discussion of gender and sexuality (Winterson's groundbreaking Oranges are not the Only Fruit was only published in 1985, Churchill arguably being the trailblazer in 1979), we are perhaps at the beginning of a highly significant phase in literary genres.

Other works by Ali Smith
Like (1997)
Hotel World (2001)
The Accidental (2005)

One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (Ken Kesey)

--The blurb--
"Boisterous, ribald, and ultimately shattering, Ken Kesey's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is the seminal novel of the 1960s that has left an indelible mark on the literature of our time. Here is the unforgettable story of a mental ward and its inhabitants, especially the tyrannical Big Nurse Ratched and Randle Patrick McMurphy, the brawling, fun-loving new inmate who resolves to oppose her. We see the struggle through the eyes of Chief Bromden, the seemingly mute half-Indian patient who witnesses and understands McMurphy's heroic attempt to do battle with the awesome powers that keep them all imprisoned."
Blurb from www.amazon.co.uk

--The review--
One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest is a novel that consistently appears not only in lists of the best novels ever written but also in lists of books that have attracted controversy. This combination of popularity and provocation makes me wonder why I didn't read it before, and it did not disappoint.

That's not to say this is an easy novel: with complex sentences, dense fields of text, and many an abstract idea to absorb, this poses an intellectual challenge as well as confronting us emotionally with horrific scenes of the treatments used in mental hospitals at this time. It's also difficult to realise what exactly is wrong with the Chief mentally, if indeed anything; Kesey approaches the Chief's thoughts with such sensitivity and realism that they can seem almost normal to us.

However, there's plenty to make this approachable, too, despite the novel's combination of intellect and gruesomeness: the diversity of the characters in the novel is to be commended, as is the ease with which readers can visualise them. Kesey keeps the pace, matching the Chief's languorous thoughts and visions with events that are hilarious and intimidating in equal measure. Kesey also grounds himself as a key influence in literature that is to come on the subject of mental illness: echoes of his work can be seen in Clare Allan's Poppy Shakespeare, to give just one example.

Equilibrium is continuously disrupted in the novel, with Kesey leaving us quite often not knowing what to expect next, although perhaps not with the same intensity of twists and turns as in Roald Dahl's short stories for adults. The ending, though, is fitting, balancing out the arguable injustice of McMurphy's fate with the eerie calm of Chief Bromden's.

Other works by Ken Kesey
Sometimes A Great Notion (1964)
Caverns (1989)
Sailor Song (1992)
Last Go Round (1994; with Ken Babbs)

Hotel du Lac (Anita Brookner)

--The blurb--
"Edith Hope (a.k.a. romance author Veronica Wilde) has been banished by her friends to a stately hotel in Switzerland. During her stay she befriends some of the other guests, each of whom has his or her own tale. Edith struggles to come to terms with her career and love--the lack, the benefits, and the meaning thereof."

--The review--
The Booker Prize judges don't always get it right - they're only human, after all - but after reading the frankly insipid The Rules of Engagement, also by Brookner, I was very much hoping that the Booker judges hadn't put the prize's name on something similarly forgettable in Hotel du Lac.

They admittedly had a very tough decision ahead of them in 1984, with the prize's shortlist exclusively containing big names (JG Ballard, Anita Desai, David Lodge, Julian Barnes, and Penelope Lively) with proven track records. Some might argue straight off that the wildly successful Empire of the Sun (Ballard) and the accomplished Flaubert's Parrot ought to have won over Brookner's efforts; both of these have perhaps won the public's hearts to a greater degree and enjoyed a more enduring or obvious legacy. But the election of Hotel du Lac to the winner's post for that year is not so abstruse; there are a great many positives to this short novel.

As well as being well-structured (having any novel divided into readable chunks is always a plus point), Brookner's characterisation and her setup of the scenario is immediately more intriguing than in The Rules of Engagement. The characters are not numerous, but they are colourful and eccentric, contrasting well with the serenity of the accompanying landscape, and there is plenty in them to both attract and anger the reader. Edith's purpose in being there is gracefully unfolded and Brookner sets up a deft twist by leading readers to expect Edith's time at the hotel to end predictably, before sending them in another direction completely. This surprising volte-face shows another side to Brookner's prose that makes her work instantly more appealing, and while her characters are not the most immediately comprehensible or likeable, the combination of such personages along with an almost paradisiacal setting and a precise plot is certainly a winning package with, one could posit, a far more universal allure than the other novels in the 1984 shortlist.

Bonfire of the Brands: How I Learned to Live Without Labels (Neil Boorman)

--The blurb--
"What do you do when you wake up and realise that your life has been an empty pursuit of the superficial and the trend-driven? That your identity and value systems are based upon a brand hierarchy of your own creation? On 17th September 2006, in Finsbury Square, East London, Neil Boorman burnt all his branded items. The ones that wouldn't burn, he destroyed with a sledgehammer. The event was the culmination of a long process of self-examination, and of the brand-dominated world in which we live, recorded in a popular and controversial blog online. As a product of a generation that has been sold to since birth Neil examines the social, historical, economic and psychological ways in which brands have gripped our society, as well as documenting his personal trials and tribulations as he tries to live a life without brands. How will he cope without a hit of his Crackberry? Will he feel naked without his Nike, Gucci, and, of course, Marlboro?"

--The review--
A burgeoning trend in the book market, readers are seeing ever more of the "let's-do-something-crazy-and-then-write-a-book-about-it" genre. Ranging from trading a paperclip all the way up to a house, to trying to live without money for a year, one might be forgiven for thinking that the market has by now been saturated by these increasingly crazy ideas. This format certainly continues to work well on television too, particularly through the inimitable Justin Lee Collins, and this effort by Neil Boorman shows no sign of the genre's momentum slowing.

There are several reasons for the popularity of the format: they usually take place within a set time period, allowing readers' (and viewers', if we also consider TV) attention to be kept by the attraction of a quick resolution; the out-of-the-ordinary focus also fulfils its purpose, which is to draw people in and keep them there; and, furthermore, the zaniness makes a nice change from misery lit and vampire stories. The central protagonist is perhaps by default engaging (or even an annoying character will inflame readers' and viewers' opinions and still keep them interested) and may often attract media attention, which can further boost sales and viewing figures by capturing the attention of people who may not otherwise bother with such stories. Plus, as human beings, we all like a challenge and want to see the main character succeed (or at least show cojones in trying). But, nevertheless, Boorman is still one of a few key players in this genre (alongside Kyle Macdonald, Danny Wallace, Dave Gorman, and others), and there are several reasons for this.

Perhaps crucially, the challenge chronicled in Bonfire of the Brands not only received an encouraging amount of publicity (in established broadsheets as well as on television, online, and on the radio), but is also highly interdisciplinary in itself, both aspects of which combine to attract the widest possible audience. It is psychological and personal as well as being crusading and humorous; it also refers to modern history and grabs modern people in the crotch, perhaps unveiling aspects of human nature and our dependency on consumerism that arguably not everybody wants to hear or think about. Opposition to Boorman's principal idea is also described at length in Bonfire of the Brands, and admittedly it is difficult to grasp the sheer waste of burning and destroying stuff that still worked perfectly well and could have been put to constructive use elsewhere. But Boorman has thought his response through: as well as being pretty dramatic, he also points out that by (say) giving away his possessions to charity instead, this merely allows obsessions with brands to continue circulating and permeating, rather than making the more suitable statement of destroying them completely and showing that human dependency on brands should be lessened.

Boorman's book, therefore, rather than just being funny or crazy like others in the genre, demarcates itself as being different by challenging not only the author (we are shown everything from Boorman's subsequent depression at having given away everything, including television and video games, to the hate mail he receives online, to his nicotine withdrawal) but also the readers. This not only represents an intellectual challenge (there's some fairly deep psychological and socio-historical and cultural analysis in there that mean you have to focus more than you might expect for a book of this genre) but also a challenge to the status quo: Boorman shows that you don't just have to accept what's around you, and that if you are determined enough, you can reject it if you want to. The end of the book is consistent with moving ahead into a new phase of life, but in a far less schmaltzy and more fitting way than the end of Kyle Macdonald's One Red Paperclip; the overall result is that in its provision of a simultaneous social and personal history, this book stands out from the crowd both in its genre and generally (although the brightly burning picture of Nike trainers on the front cover is probably helpful too).

The Kabul Beauty School (Deborah Rodriguez)

--The blurb--
"Soon after the fall of the Taliban, in 2001, Deborah Rodriguez went to Afghanistan as part of a group offering humanitarian aid to this war-torn nation. Surrounded by men and women whose skills–as doctors, nurses, and therapists–seemed eminently more practical than her own, Rodriguez, a hairdresser and mother of two from Michigan, despaired of being of any real use. Yet she soon found she had a gift for befriending Afghans, and once her profession became known she was eagerly sought out by Westerners desperate for a good haircut and by Afghan women, who have a long and proud tradition of running their own beauty salons. Thus an idea was born. With the help of corporate and international sponsors, the Kabul Beauty School welcomed its first class in 2003. Well meaning but sometimes brazen, Rodriguez stumbled through language barriers, overstepped cultural customs, and constantly juggled the challenges of a postwar nation even as she learned how to empower her students to become their families’ breadwinners by learning the fundamentals of coloring techniques, haircutting, and makeup. Yet within the small haven of the beauty school, the line between teacher and student quickly blurred as these vibrant women shared with Rodriguez their stories and their hearts: the newlywed who faked her virginity on her wedding night, the twelve-year-old bride sold into marriage to pay her family’s debts, the Taliban member’s wife who pursued her training despite her husband’s constant beatings. Through these and other stories, Rodriguez found the strength to leave her own unhealthy marriage and allow herself to love again, Afghan style. With warmth and humor, Rodriguez details the lushness of a seemingly desolate region and reveals the magnificence behind the burqa. Kabul Beauty School is a remarkable tale of an extraordinary community of women who come together and learn the arts of perms, friendship, and freedom."

--The review--
As armed forces from around the world do battle in Afghanistan and Iraq, it's only natural that those who have not seen the countries for themselves want an insight into the lives of the people there, which provides a lucrative opportunity for publishers. Just a few of the books centred on the area and its people include The Bookseller of Kabul, Reading Lolita in Tehran, and The Kite Runner. And here, in the form of The Kabul Beauty School, comes another missive with the potential to propel its author to the front of the world stage.

Or so it would be, were it not for the fact that the novel is disappointingly ghostwritten. Rodriguez by no means takes all of the responsibility for her work, publishing a thinly veiled acknowledgement just before the novel commences. This acknowledgement does not stop the fact that it's ghostwritten from being a letdown; but nevertheless, as promised, humour, warmth and genuineness spill over into all aspects of the prose and story, with plenty to incite readers to continue, including highly visual locations and characters and dramatic events. The opening scene is horrifying and bound to make many readers wince, and from the very first page, no details are spared, including the abuse suffered by the beauty school's attendees and the threats that Deborah and the school themselves face.

Deborah herself makes a promising main character, proving herself to be very human, likeable and spirited, without being at all annoying. The storyline does not lack momentum or structure, and this only helps in making the novel accessible to a wide range of readers. The compulsion to know what happens next is likely the key to the book's success: even if a book is ghostwritten, ultimately what many readers want is a lively book with thrust and a decent storyline, and this is, happily, what you get with Rodriguez's effort.

Bookish Bits & Bobs: The Man Booker Prize 2009

The Booker Prize has always been a real rollercoaster ride, invoking strong feelings of love and hate for particular books in the hearts and minds of Anglophone readers the world over. I was surprised, then, to find that upon reading the summaries of the shortlisted books on the BBC, I was not immediately drawn to any of them in particular, as I had been in previous years.

Compounding this somewhat tepid reaction was the fact that there were no previews available on Amazon, Google Books, or any other immediately obvious website, so that people could judge more quickly and easily which of the shortlist they might like to buy or which one they thought should win. This year's shortlist featured a few previous winners, such as AS Byatt and JM Coetzee, and the shortlist and longlist together also revealed a large number of previously shortlisted authors, such as Sarah Waters, Sarah Hall, and William Trevor. So, given a shortlist of such credentials and reputation, why did none of the shortlist really stand out for me?

AS Byatt's "Possession" enraptured many a reader, and she has won the Booker before. However, initial impressions of the nominated The Children's Book are of pretension, and Amazon reviewers complain of a lack of purpose, although others compensate by praising its comparative accessibility when compared to Byatt's previous novels. Describing a family on the tipping point between an Edwardian summer and a post-war world, via history, politics and other themes, this 'cultural history disguised as a novel' may be what let Byatt down when it came to the crunch. It is difficult to judge a book without having read the whole thing, but flicking through a copy at my local bookshop today, no phrases or ideas really seemed to jump off the pages at me or made me want to read on.

JM Coetzee is another previous winner and it's easy to see why he was in the running again with Summertime - not just due to the British love of the memoir but also due to his precedent for high standards. It is the third in a trilogy (preceded by the unceremoniously-nicked-from-Tolstoy titles, Boyhood and Youth), so may be difficult to read as a stand-alone work or for others to pick up without having read the other parts of the trilogy. Reviewers describe it as unconventional, clever, and well-written, and it is possibly the most intriguing novel on the shortlist, along with Simon Mawer's efforts.

Adam Foulds' The Quickening Maze, along with Mawer's shortlisted novel, was the only one that I was unable to get any sort of preview of at all (unfortunately the bookshop I visited did not have it in stock). While lauded for its minimalistic and atmospheric beauty, Amazon reviewers also lambast it for its disjointed and confused purpose, which makes it sound like the idea started well, but that the author got lost along the way. Happily, with the poet John Clare at its centre, these criticisms are not enough to put me off sampling it completely.

Despite the lack of preview available, Simon Mawer's The Glass Room strikes me as being the most inventive, original and historic novel on this year's Booker shortlist, covering old ground in a new way. Glass has also long been a successful motif in many classic texts, so when all of these things are considered, it is difficult to see why this was not one of the favourites to win (especially since the people have spoken, with the book achieving a high average of 4.5 stars out of 5 on Amazon). The only reason I can possibly think of is that the British public is perhaps slightly tired of stories featuring Nazi Germany (thanks to a restrictive history curriculum in school, this is often one of the only eras that young adults are really aware of in any detail).

Sarah Waters' early work proved itself to be good, but as time has gone on, the novelist's work has become repetitive across the years. She has been nominated for the prize before (Tipping The Velvet, The Night Watch) but lost out. Thankfully, there are no lesbians in her latest effort, entitled The Little Stranger. Reviews of the novel are very mixed: some laud Waters' skills of pace and atmosphere, while others criticise it; many point out a decline in general Waters standard over the years. All seem to agree, though, that it is beautifully structured. This polarisation among readers may be what cost Waters the prize.

Before moving on to the eventual winner, though, it seems timely to give some attention to a few longlisters who missed out. William Trevor justly attracted critical acclaim in 2002 with his haunting and readable The Story of Lucy Gault, which was shortlisted for the Booker that year. Reading the synopsis of Love and Summer (longlisted this year), though, it is clear that while Trevor writes exquisitely, this novel is perhaps more likely to be something read by bored housewives. One Amazon reviewer points out, I think quite correctly, that this latest effort is like many other nondescript Irish novels, is unmemorable, and is ultimately only squeezed out of old ideas. In the face of this, it is hardly surprising that Trevor ultimately didn't make the cut when compared to the standard of the other novels that made it onto the shortlist.

The next omission, though, is far more surprising and glaring. Like Trevor, Sarah Hall has also been shortlisted before (in 2004) and lost out: her The Electric Michelangelo was a safe rival to the bookies' favourite that year (David Mitchell's Cloud Atlas), and the fact that they both lost the prize to Alan Hollinghurst is arguably a travesty. It is therefore doubly a shame that Hall was left off the shortlist with How To Paint A Dead Man, which proves itself in its preview on Amazon to be highly accomplished, and rendered even more unusual by Hall's employment of the second person in her writing. I'm glad to see she's still on form, and am sure that eventually she'll have her moment in the sun.

But we must put all of this aside to come to the eventual winner, and bookies' favourite, Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall. A true opus, this weighty tome is definitely something to get stuck into on an autumn afternoon. Brits love all things Tudor (cf. restrictive history curriculum remark) and have lately become enamoured with Margaret George's latest offering, which centres around aspects of the life of Elizabeth I, precisely for this reason, despite having shown little or no interest in her before. This is probably why Wolf Hall was set to win and duly won, although the book has not been immune to criticism from Amazon reviewers - those who did not enjoy the work cite its length, tedium and writing style as reasons why. It is perhaps a little disconcerting that neither of the left-out longlisters that I mentioned, nor the two lesser-known shortlist authors (Mawer and Foulds) had their works figure on the shelves of my local bookshop, which makes me wonder if perhaps it's really the bookshops after all who decide who should win. However, the propulsion to the number one spot in British book charts that Booker winners often enjoy means that Mantel's winning wonder is sure to provide an anchor to many a Christmas stocking this winter.

update September 2009

# of books read in September: 3

Cumulative total: 44 (target within reach!)

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)

Average number of books per month: 4.8

% by male authors: 54%
% by female authors: 46%

Progress has been retarded by several factors, including my return to work, the fact that I wasted time on a French book that was boring and that I never finished, and the fact that I also 'wasted time' on rereads, which I'm not counting (they were worth it, though).

Bookish Bits and Bobs: Giving Up The Ghost

As a ten-year-old I was possibly the world's biggest fan of the Babysitter's Club series, by Ann M. Martin. Had all the books, could recite all their titles to long-suffering relatives who made the mistake of asking which ones I had, had seen the movie countless times, had memorised the life histories of all the characters, and even had a computer game relating to the series that my dad had picked up in the US. Then, for some reason, I made the leap the following year from this to reading Gone With The Wind...so that was the end of that. I don't think I ever looked back. So my extreme fandom of this series was, if you like, a defining moment. Ann M. Martin's series was the bridge between my childhood and my adult reading.

Except it wasn't by Ann M. Martin. Not entirely. A year or two ago I found out, thanks to our good friend Wikipedia, that many of the titles in the series had been ghostwritten (by a variety of authors, including Suzanne Weyn, Peter Lerangis, Nola Thacker, Ellen Miles, Jan Carr, Jahnna Beecham, and Malcolm Hillgartner). I'd moved on from the BSC series a bit too long ago to be cut up by this in any serious way, but I'll admit feeling mild annoyance, and I can see why people would feel betrayed or hurt by such a discovery. For the uninitiated, allow me to explain: possibly the most insidious aspect of the publishing industry, ghostwriting is a well-known tactic used by people who would not normally be able to get their work published in order to help them actually do so when they arguably shouldn't be able to at all. But what do most people find so offensive about it?

Firstly, let me explain my own annoyance. I'm an aspiring writer myself, and I work hard to improve my writing skills. Then there are people who work even harder on it, by attending writing courses and so on, in the hope that their work will one day attract the attention of publishers. It is therefore perhaps understandable to feel annoyed to see people jumping the queue, as it were, when they've had a leg up from someone else. Ergo there is a sense of injustice involved.

In many cases, there is also a complete lack of honesty about it. Ann M Martin would thank her ghostwriters in the acknowledgements of the BSC books, expressing her gratitude for their help "in the preparation of this manuscript" or for "giving the BSC a voice". These thanks could mean anything at all. And, furthermore, in retrospect it is evident to me that the books were not very well-written at all - so if that's all that Ann M Martin was able to produce WITH the help of a ghostwriter, what on earth must her writing have been like without one? But at least Ann M Martin is a real person - I was even more surprised to discover recently that Carolyn Keene, the 'author' of the Nancy Drew series, was merely a conglomerate of ghostwriters who were hired to bring a publishing house's idea to fruition over a period of years, which again undermines the notion of aspiring writers being given the opportunity to speak their own minds and use their own ideas to succeed.

However, ghostwriters themselves are hardly to blame for the fact that they're able to find employment; it is publishers who perpetuate ghostwriters' livelihoods, for several reasons. One of the most major and obvious outlets for ghostwriting is in the field of the celebrity autobiography. If a celebrity is of below-average intelligence and/or writing skills, it seems that publishers (and, indeed, the celebrities themselves) will stop at nothing to make money from the celebrity's name.

It becomes easier and easier to see, then, why people treat ghostwriters with derision. It's also difficult to not feel this way when ghostwriters' motives are so obscure: writing under a pen-name is one thing, but being made to sign a non-disclosure contract that forbids the writer from revealing that they ever had a role in the work at all? Even if the work is lucrative, I doubt that many people (including myself) can understand the appeal of allowing others to take the credit for your work. In fact, as a teacher of students aged 12 and up, I spend a lot of my time trying to persuade them that plagiarism and over-liberal use of the cut/paste function are NOT credible ways of creating work, and that taking the credit for others' work is morally dubious. How are they going to be convinced by this when their favourite celebrities are taking credit for others' work all the time in their 'auto'biographies?

Ir seems sad that publishers are apparently so keen to make money from an idea that they don't mind sacrificing any integrity that the industry has. I understand that it's a business (if using ghostwriters makes money, then perhaps that's a good business decision); but, on the other hand, it's not a charity, so the ongoing mystery lies in why publishers continue to vest people with talents that they haven't actually got, rather than just telling them no, and giving the time to people who do have talent instead.

La grammaire est une chanson douce (Erik Orsenna)

--The blurb--
"In Orsenna's witty rumination on words and grammar, 10-year-old Jeanne and her 14-year-old brother, Thomas, are shipwrecked on a strange island where words have become independent. Rendered mute, the siblings visit the Word Market, where one can buy the perfect word for any occasion. They also travel to a town full of independent words that strut around without the need for human beings to utter them. Such word adventures help restore the siblings' power of speech."

--The review--
Erik Orsenna is possibly one of the world's few remaining polymaths. He is not only a graduate of the London School of Economics (with a degree in politics, philosophy and economics), but also wrote a book to rival Nick Hornby's 31 Songs (in the form of History of the World in Nine Guitars, with Thierry Arnoult), and is known for writing books with titles that professional pedants die for (as well as Grammar is a Gentle, Sweet Song, he has also written the as-yet-untranslated Les chevaliers du subjonctif). Further to this, there's another reason why his books should be more widely known to adults: the editions of La grammaire... published by the French publisher, Stock, contain sublime illustrations, which are also by the author. Adults sometimes like pictures in their books, too (even if they don't want to admit it).

Happily, the Saint-Exupery-style illustrations are not the only positive aspect of La grammaire.... Orsenna is skilful in his use of child characters, putting him on a par with the more well-known Jostein Gaarder (particularly in relation to Gaarder's Hello? Is There Anybody There?) and with the work that made Antoine de Saint-Exupery so stratospherically famous, Le Petit Prince. Other similarities to these books include Orsenna's fantasy-soaked setting and imaginative style, so it is understandably pleasing to have this Saint-Exupery link confirmed towards the end of the novella, even if the author isn't necessarily someone whose work Orsenna desires to emulate directly.

Orsenna is also wonderfully expressive and didactic, particularly in one passage where he compares constructing a phrase to decorating a Christmas tree: "You start with the naked tree, and then you decorate it to your whims and desires...Pay attention to your phrase: if you burden it with too many garlands and baubles - that is to say adjectives, adverbs and the like - it can collapse too." Whether Orsenna is deliberately didactic is difficult to say, but either way, he is not irritating in this, and he is successful. Overall, the story is well-constructed, its ending is satisfying, and its two main characters, Jeanne and Thomas, are as well-drawn as the other characters that they meet along the way. This is an enchanting hook into Orsenna's work, and, with its cleverness and wit, proves enjoyable for children and for grammar buffs alike.

Other works by Erik Orsenna*
Portrait of the Gulf Stream: In Praise of Currents (2008)
Tidings from the Isle of Flight (2005)
History of the World in Nine Guitars (1999)
André Le Notre: Guardian to the Sun King (1999)
Love and Empire (1993)

*noted here are only the works that have been translated into English; a wider selection is available in French.

Three Men In A Boat (Jerome K Jerome)

--The blurb--
"It would be unfair to say that any of the three men were hypochondriacs; it was simply that they suffered from a constant malaise, consisting of every symptom but housemaid's knee. The only cure for it was a revitalising trip in an open boat. Bearing frying pans, elusive toothbrushes, pies, lemonade and whisky, for medicinal purposes only, the three men and Montmorency the dog (whose ambition in life is to get in the way) embark on their hilarious adventures on the Thames. After considerable enjoyment and irritation - getting lost in the maze, arguing with some quarrelsome swans, falling in the river - the three men decide that being out of a boat seems a more inviting alternative. Despite being over a century old, its sparkling insights into human - and canine - nature ensure that Three Men In A Boat is as fresh and invigorating today as when it was first published."

--The review--
Younger readers (read: school age) often deride older texts, decrying them as being irrelevant, hard, and boring. However, fans of modern comedy, from the most cutting-edge to the slightly cheesier stuff, will find plenty to delight in while reading Three Men In A Boat: it contains everything from the cringeworthy comedy of the Chuckle Brothers, through to Bill Bailey-style digressions and general wordplay. While it is occasionally a bit middle-class for some people's tastes, this is easily ignored when readers are presented with Jerome's sharp observations about the real surrounding towns and villages of the Thames.

While the novel is a certainly a slice of local history, Jerome is not your usual tour guide: he pulls no punches when it comes to giving his opinions of the places through which the characters pass. Locals to the Thames area will certainly appreciate them even more. As well as containing his famous diatribe against my own home town, Maidenhead ("Maidenhead itself is too snobby to be pleasant...It is the town of showy hotels, patronized chiefly by dudes and ballet-girls. It is the witch's kitchen from which go the demons of the river [steam-launches]...the heroine of the three-volume novel always dines there when she goes out on the spree with somebody else's husband"), I also had a little giggle at Jerome's assessment of nearby Reading, which Jerome describes as, at Walton, "[while doing] its best to spoil and sully and make hideous as much of the river as it can reach, [it] is good-natured enough to keep its ugly face a good deal out of sight." Clearly Jerome and Betjeman were in cahoots when it came to slighting this part of the country ("come, friendly bombs, and fall on Slough...").

However, as well as indulging his bitchy side, Jerome is also lyrical (I refer you to the passage beginning "Sometimes, our pain is very deep and real", which begins on page 96 in the Penguin Popular Classics edition, and which will be easily findable via the free Gutenberg etext) and apt (his passage on the domination of our intellect by our digestive organs is highly accurate and British in the extreme, especially the part about tea). This is not to say that there are no weaknesses in the novel; the digressive style takes some time to get used to, and while there was the occasional lovely piece of description relating to the dog, I felt that Jerome could have made more of the animal character.

There are certainly a good many reasons why this is Jerome's best-known novel; however, it seems a shame that the exposure of his other work should be cut out at its expense. I would definitely be interested in reading more.

Other works by Jerome K Jerome
Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow (1886)
Second Thoughts of an Idle Fellow (1898)
Three Men on the Bummel (1900)
Paul Kelver (1902)
Tommy and Co (1904)
They and I (1909)
The Philosopher's Joke (1909)
All Roads Lead To Calvary (1919)
Anthony John (1923)