Thursday, February 26, 2004
Easy Peasy by Lesley Glaister
Obviously getting rid of that unmoving mountain of books was a good start because I had finished this next one before the day was out. (About two hours after blogging to be precise - but then I am currently unemployed!) I was torn about what I thought of this book, as I liked some it quite strongly and I equally disliked other bits quite strongly but didn't realise this at the time. There are two central themes, that I picked up, one being the effect of the past on the present and the other being the disintergrating central relationship. Although I probably agreed with the author's ideas of how the past infiltrates our present - and hence future - the two main events she used to illustrate this fact are not engaging enough to fulfil the storyline. There was too much suspense for something that ultimately became pointless - as the character realises (or at least I did) the past is not communal and as a reader, I was too distracted with the reality of the emotional present to be at all interested in the events of someone else's past. It didn't seem worth it. But the good bits were good (which is more than I can say about the other books).
Obviously getting rid of that unmoving mountain of books was a good start because I had finished this next one before the day was out. (About two hours after blogging to be precise - but then I am currently unemployed!) I was torn about what I thought of this book, as I liked some it quite strongly and I equally disliked other bits quite strongly but didn't realise this at the time. There are two central themes, that I picked up, one being the effect of the past on the present and the other being the disintergrating central relationship. Although I probably agreed with the author's ideas of how the past infiltrates our present - and hence future - the two main events she used to illustrate this fact are not engaging enough to fulfil the storyline. There was too much suspense for something that ultimately became pointless - as the character realises (or at least I did) the past is not communal and as a reader, I was too distracted with the reality of the emotional present to be at all interested in the events of someone else's past. It didn't seem worth it. But the good bits were good (which is more than I can say about the other books).
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
I think I'm going to have to accept defeat with at least one of the three boring books I'm reading at the moment. And I've decided that it's going to be Douglas E. Winter's Run which I only picked up (for a pound in some charity shop) because I liked the people who were quoted on the back. And as I was desparate. But it's just too styalised to get into and all the characters are entirely unpleasant so I'm not too inclined to let them into my life. Everyone is horrible and probably going to be killed by the end which isn't a great incentive to carry on reading. I'll continue with the other two - Isherwood's autobiography which I'm looking forward to blogging as I can rant about what pretentious wanker he seems to be - and this brief history of the world because it's compact size is the perfect tube reading material, when I can't find a Metro though I haven't been on one since I quit working as a face-to-face fundraiser. Hence why the book is only half read. Though it might also have something to do with the fact that I'm up to the slave-trade triangle of 1700/1800 and getting quite depressed.
My need to re-jig this current reading pattern was highlighted by recommending Jaime O'Neill's At Swim, Two Boys to a teammate and realising how good good books are (and consequential email discussions about it - she's a librarian). I'm now halfway through Lesley Glaister's Easy Peasy which apparently was shortlisted for the 1998 Guardian Fiction Award and which is improving with time. Although I'm still not drastically convinced but I suspect that after seeing Dead Man Walking lastnight on FilmFour my mind is elsewhere.
My need to re-jig this current reading pattern was highlighted by recommending Jaime O'Neill's At Swim, Two Boys to a teammate and realising how good good books are (and consequential email discussions about it - she's a librarian). I'm now halfway through Lesley Glaister's Easy Peasy which apparently was shortlisted for the 1998 Guardian Fiction Award and which is improving with time. Although I'm still not drastically convinced but I suspect that after seeing Dead Man Walking lastnight on FilmFour my mind is elsewhere.
Friday, February 20, 2004
Since I'm currently struggling my way through about three different very dry and quite dull books which are refusing to grab my attention to get to my time I feel the need to blog something completely different. Anyway, over a large family meal (large meal, largely non-related family) we got talking about poems and Valerie burst out with this particular poem which I just found on the internet and wanted to post. As it's lovely. And does put the limitations of literature in perspective. Albeit a religious perspective, but each to their own.
Trees
by Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks to God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Trees
by Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks to God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
Wild About Harry by Colin Bateman
Chapter and Verse by Colin Bateman
Murphy's Law by Colin Bateman
As you can tell (who's you when I've never told anyone about this blog... ooh digressions into existentialism - an attempt at an excuse for not blogging when I read them) I've had a bit of a Colin Bateman binge recently. It was a result of the euphoria about online library reservations and knowing that, until I forget my PIN no, I can reserve any book I want to without suffering the wrath of the librarians (these are people who are training to break kneecaps with a single withering look) and my own very limited memory (hence this blog) as I can never think of any authors to research when I sit down at the database. Anyway, when I picked them up, it turned out I had seen Wild About Harry on TV. I only realised it was a 'proper' film while trying to find a link for this page... Anyway, it didn't matter because it was still a class Bateman novel - relentlessly witty, powerfully funny, very very human and highly entertaining. Each time I read something he's written, I am surprised at how much I admire his style and this book was no disappointment.
The next book however was slightly disappointing but I suspect that might be more about me than the particular book. I really hated the central character of Chapter and Verse. I imagine that this is intentional since he's a complete and utter git. Yet, I've always liked Dan Starkey (of Divorcing Jack, Turbulent Priests, and quite a few more than I can't remember) and he's the ultimate in complete selfish, drunken twats. They both are clever enough. They are both rude, selfish and so forth yet, I found myself miserable to share my life with Ivan and hence not really liking the book. Too many miserable people - and far too much self-reflection. (Is my difference between the two protagonists a result of their differing nationalities? So far the only overt difference between the two. Or is it, that Ivan was an unredeemable prat - even with the love of a 'good' woman, and Dan Starkey is a lovable plonker? I think I preferred the existentialism.)
Murphy's Law was recently turned into a showcase for either ITV or the BBC and again, I remember watching it (probably because I found out it was written by Colin Bateman though possibly it was a bit of star gazing at James Nesbitt and His Fabulous Eyebrows) but not particularly well. Anyway, the book is good - I'd be repeating myself to write about how much like Bateman's style of writing but the action didn't sit very well with me, but this is quite likely to be because I knew how it would all pan out and had no sense of suspension or anticipation. I wonder if he wrote the rest of the series? Sadly I've now exhausted the Hounslow library services of their Colin Bateman collection and that's a very sad thought to go to bed with.
Chapter and Verse by Colin Bateman
Murphy's Law by Colin Bateman
As you can tell (who's you when I've never told anyone about this blog... ooh digressions into existentialism - an attempt at an excuse for not blogging when I read them) I've had a bit of a Colin Bateman binge recently. It was a result of the euphoria about online library reservations and knowing that, until I forget my PIN no, I can reserve any book I want to without suffering the wrath of the librarians (these are people who are training to break kneecaps with a single withering look) and my own very limited memory (hence this blog) as I can never think of any authors to research when I sit down at the database. Anyway, when I picked them up, it turned out I had seen Wild About Harry on TV. I only realised it was a 'proper' film while trying to find a link for this page... Anyway, it didn't matter because it was still a class Bateman novel - relentlessly witty, powerfully funny, very very human and highly entertaining. Each time I read something he's written, I am surprised at how much I admire his style and this book was no disappointment.
The next book however was slightly disappointing but I suspect that might be more about me than the particular book. I really hated the central character of Chapter and Verse. I imagine that this is intentional since he's a complete and utter git. Yet, I've always liked Dan Starkey (of Divorcing Jack, Turbulent Priests, and quite a few more than I can't remember) and he's the ultimate in complete selfish, drunken twats. They both are clever enough. They are both rude, selfish and so forth yet, I found myself miserable to share my life with Ivan and hence not really liking the book. Too many miserable people - and far too much self-reflection. (Is my difference between the two protagonists a result of their differing nationalities? So far the only overt difference between the two. Or is it, that Ivan was an unredeemable prat - even with the love of a 'good' woman, and Dan Starkey is a lovable plonker? I think I preferred the existentialism.)
Murphy's Law was recently turned into a showcase for either ITV or the BBC and again, I remember watching it (probably because I found out it was written by Colin Bateman though possibly it was a bit of star gazing at James Nesbitt and His Fabulous Eyebrows) but not particularly well. Anyway, the book is good - I'd be repeating myself to write about how much like Bateman's style of writing but the action didn't sit very well with me, but this is quite likely to be because I knew how it would all pan out and had no sense of suspension or anticipation. I wonder if he wrote the rest of the series? Sadly I've now exhausted the Hounslow library services of their Colin Bateman collection and that's a very sad thought to go to bed with.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman
It's been a long while since I finished this book and it's more than just laziness that's kept me from blogging. (Well, that was true at the beginning but it crept in there over the following days.) I read the whole of this book in a state of extreme stress. A slip comment from a fellow teammate nearly ruined the end and I thought I had her facial expression figured and that Will would die. I was distraught.
The actual book is wonderful which isn't a surprise given that the first two are beautifully written. Yet in tying together the loose strands of narrative and definitely revealing the theories of the universe, Pullman has really stapled his views to the wall and if you don't agree with his aethetistic world then chances are, you won't like reading this final chapter. I've heard that he raked The Chronciles of Narnia for its racism and covert Christianity but his are just as ripe for criticism when you accept its the views of the author that are targets. Both authors wrote zeigist masterpieces as such will suffer as eras change.
What is it about the world of the dead that really highlights an authors viewpoints? It was enough to put me off Life of Pi entirely and be seduced into The Lucky Bones. In His Dark Materials I walked happily, if equally fearfully, along side Will and Lyra. Yet the best part of being allowed into Pullman's imagination was probably the world of the Muffula.
Over a pint with Ranelagh, I proudly revealed that several days after finishing the book I'd worked out why Lyra was linked to Eve (I was shocked when I discovered that I'd still been thinking about it for this time). I pointed out that like Eve she faced the great temptation which was to be with Will, keeping a window open or living in the other's world but that she'd not given in to this temptation and resisted love and sex for the better good of humanity so that arguably the worlds we all inhabit are in fact, paradise. Ranelagh was surprised because he'd also worked out that part of the trilogy but instead came up with the conclusion that it was because she chose knowledge over ignorance - in pretty much every step of her path. It was interesting how well the story adapted itself to our interpretations.
It's been a long while since I finished this book and it's more than just laziness that's kept me from blogging. (Well, that was true at the beginning but it crept in there over the following days.) I read the whole of this book in a state of extreme stress. A slip comment from a fellow teammate nearly ruined the end and I thought I had her facial expression figured and that Will would die. I was distraught.
The actual book is wonderful which isn't a surprise given that the first two are beautifully written. Yet in tying together the loose strands of narrative and definitely revealing the theories of the universe, Pullman has really stapled his views to the wall and if you don't agree with his aethetistic world then chances are, you won't like reading this final chapter. I've heard that he raked The Chronciles of Narnia for its racism and covert Christianity but his are just as ripe for criticism when you accept its the views of the author that are targets. Both authors wrote zeigist masterpieces as such will suffer as eras change.
What is it about the world of the dead that really highlights an authors viewpoints? It was enough to put me off Life of Pi entirely and be seduced into The Lucky Bones. In His Dark Materials I walked happily, if equally fearfully, along side Will and Lyra. Yet the best part of being allowed into Pullman's imagination was probably the world of the Muffula.
Over a pint with Ranelagh, I proudly revealed that several days after finishing the book I'd worked out why Lyra was linked to Eve (I was shocked when I discovered that I'd still been thinking about it for this time). I pointed out that like Eve she faced the great temptation which was to be with Will, keeping a window open or living in the other's world but that she'd not given in to this temptation and resisted love and sex for the better good of humanity so that arguably the worlds we all inhabit are in fact, paradise. Ranelagh was surprised because he'd also worked out that part of the trilogy but instead came up with the conclusion that it was because she chose knowledge over ignorance - in pretty much every step of her path. It was interesting how well the story adapted itself to our interpretations.
