Showing posts with label telegraph100. Show all posts
Showing posts with label telegraph100. Show all posts

Monday, 25 September 2017

Beloved by Toni Morrison

"All the time, I'm afraid the thing that happened that made it all right for my mother to kill my sister could happen again."

The week when work dramas and social chaos are pushing you towards some pretty silly behaviour is really not the week to appreciate a novel about slavery and killing kids and rape and other unsavoury things. I say this, by way of explanation, as I felt a little overwhelmed this week and reading this novel did nothing to help. In fact its style was so creepy and frustrating that even when horrific events happened in the novel I had some kind of delayed onset reaction to them. I was drowning in words and every now and then my head would hit the surface and think, crumbs, why am I reading this?

The answer would be, perhaps, that it is included on almost every must read list there is. How could I resist the siren call of a novel that is on almost every must read list? I couldn't. I succumbed and yet I didn't really enjoy or appreciate the experience. Upon reflection, I can appreciate its brilliance and originality. The tone and phrasing are something new to me and  only really reveal themselves as being memorable when revisiting the novel, days and dramas later. There's something wafting and dream like about it, the kind of dream that swings continually into nightmare territory. When is the perfect time to read an unsettling piece of literature? I wonder?

4 out of 5, sometimes you just have to take the unpleasant path.


Sunday, 24 January 2016

The Stranger by Albert Camus

"And something I'd been told came back; a remark made by the nurse at Mother's funeral. No there was no way out and no one can imagine what the evenings are like in prison."

I've seen the novel's title translated as both The Stranger  and The Outsider.  I think the later is the better translation. A riveting read with a daydream like quality despite violence, sex, prison and potential execution.
In today's society of internet trolling and offence there are some truisms here which retain their relevance.
Spoilers follow...
When Meursault fails to display the perceived socially acceptable way of grieving for the death of his mother he sets in place a chain of coincidences which will work against him. Rather that following the normal social queues he appears detached and flees the situation for coffee, sex and cigarettes.

By assisting a less that salubrious friend with girlfriend troubles, he becomes embroiled in a violent altercation that will see him commit murder and lead to his incarceration. The trial is particularly well crafted, as Mersault enjoys the attention, while failing to comprehend his circumstances until it is too late.  

This is one of those rare books that lives up to the hype. It is definitely worth exploring for yourself. I'd like to re-read it in French, as I feel that would add more nuance to the tale.

 5 out of 5 Mersault's choice of coffee, sex and cigarettes leads to the absence of all of the above.
 

Thursday, 26 November 2015

London Fields by Martin Amis

Love can make a woman pick up a bus, or it can crush a man under the weight of a feather. Or it just lets every­thing go on as it was yes­ter­day and will be to­mor­row. That's the kind of force love is."


Being one of those people that has to read a novel before it gets a cinematic outing, and given that this novel was due for a big screen rendition, I was destined to check it out. I felt like I needed a shower after I finished it. There's something grubby about Amis, and quite possibly a little misogynistic. Keith Talent really grossed me out. Paying for sex with a minor is just one of his disgusting outlets. Nicola Six just didn't seem real. She appears almost like the construct of a man who feels that women are both attractive and yet repulsive. Portions of the writing are well rendered and that is all that I have that is positive to say.

2 out of 5 times I felt tainted

Friday, 11 April 2014

Brighton Rock by Graham Greene

"A twopenny ice from an Everest tricycle was the whole extent of her knowledge of luxury."


This has been on my to read list for a decidedly long time, but I only got around to it of late. There is something really dense about the prose which is to be savoured and not rushed; admittedly this took a lot longer for me to read than your average 270 page paperback, but that is hardly a bad thing.

Unfortunately the lure of Helen Mirren was too much to resist and so I'd actually seen the film before reading the book. Generally, I find that most disappointing, however I was able to compartmentalise and enjoy them both separately on their own merits. In my imagining of the written word, the colours seemed brighter, the action more lurid, Ida completely un-Mirren like and Pinky less visible, and a little pathetic. His tough act hides the immaturity of his years and poor Rose, who seems so innocent, perhaps she is the real wild card. There's a sense that she is playing the victim  to escape the status quo of her life, and indulge in  a more adventurous one.

I can honestly see why this is on so many best reads lists, but I admit to being a bit of a Greene fan - so perhaps I'm biased. The blend of the seamy underbelly with the innocence of youth makes for a compelling juxtaposition and the parade of well realised, but damaged characters will reel you in from the get go.



5 out of 5 record players might play things you won't like to hear.




Friday, 27 December 2013

The Sor­rows of Young Werther by J.W. von Goethe


What sort of crea­ture must he be who merely liked Char­lotte, whose whole heart and senses were not en­tirely ab­sorbed by her”

This reminds me of the kind of sentimental bosh one writes in one’s diary as a seventeen year old. Always madly in love with people who don’t feel the same way, consistently sprouting superlatives and emotions turned up to eleven.

Did I enjoy this, no not really. I feel happy that I’ve crossed off yet another 1001 book from the list, but that is just about it.

Werther is a whiny wimp that really does not appeal to my sensibilities. Perhaps it lost something in translation – who can say? Ultimately, it is a particularly  short book and in my opinion- that’s a blessing.

 2 out of 5 courtly love traditions leave one cold.