Thursday, January 26, 2006
Back wit' some books
Well, I haven't put much up here for a while - sorry about that - I got into one of my noncommunicative slumps. But I'm back now, and I'll start with one of our favourite features (in that it's the only one for which I have evidence that people I don't know have read it): good books. Not a top ten, but some recent reads.
Alan Hollinghurst's Line of Beauty, which won the 2004 Booker Prize, was a revelation. I loved it, and was a bit surprised. To explain why, I must talk a bit first about the previous Hollinghurst I read, The Folding Star. The book was written very lushly, quite intricate, all the words and sentences seemed rather meaningful. As everyone says, Hollinghurst is a superb craftsman. But it just didn't grab me, I think (and thought) because the subject matter was somewhat alien. It was all about gay sex and an obscure Belgian artist whom I didn't know and still don't. The sex was pretty explicit and not very moving (but sex, when written about in detail, usually isn't, I find). I wasn't turned off, but I was a little alienated. Reading that one wasn't a complete waste of time, but I didn't recommend it to anyone.
The Line of Beauty, however, I recommend to all of you (both of you? you alone? Marvin?) - it too has lots of gay sex, and lots of obscure artists, but this time it isn't about that. It's set in the Thatcher years, and has a cast of very well-rounded, interesting characters. It also has a plot, narrative, pace - all of which were missing from The Folding Star. And it's true: every sentence is perfect. My favourite: "Nick felt a tear rise to his eye at the thought of the child's utter innocence of hangovers."
Henry James features quite a bit in the book, and people see Hollinghurst as very much in the Jamesian tradition. Well, on the evidence of this one at least, I think he's better, as I find it possible to read his books.
Sticking with beauty, I also read Zadie Smith's third novel, On Beauty. Again, I had read her previously - I loved her first novel, White Teeth - and had heard good things about this. I wasn't disappointed at all - the book is much fun and most engaging. What's interesting is that whereas Hollinghurst returns to similar themes - love/sex and art - this book is very different from White Teeth. White Teeth was a coming-of-age novel with a huge cast of characters in multicultural northwest London. This, on the other hand, is a campus novel with a subplot about Rembrandt. OK, you still have a fairly multicultural cast, but it really focuses on a family, rather than a society. It's very funny at times, and quite touching as well. To be honest, the ending disappoints, and it isn't perfect, but it's a worthwhile, entertaining book. (Interestingly, while Hollinghurst owes a debt to James, she follows E.M. Forster in this one. I read my first Forster last year - A Passage to India - and found it wonderful. I shall read more.)
Another novel which was wonderful fun was Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, which reimagines early 19th century England as if magic existed. It's long - nearly 1,000 pages - but very easy reading - I finished it in 4 days (admittedly, I didn't have much else to do). It's written most of the time as a quasi-biography, with footnotes and references to other books and publishers which never existed; I enjoy that kind of postmodern lark. Some people think not enough happens for all the promise of a society with magic, but I really enjoyed the low-key plot -- if magic existed, magical happenings wouldn't be spectacular cliffhanger episodes all the time. Don't get me wrong, there is lots of tension and suspense in the book, and a fair amount of "action" in the second half. At least, I thought so. (I think this book could be a litmus test for which Getz you're most like - my sister didn't enjoy it at all.)
Moving away from fiction, I finally read a book I've been wanting to read for ages: Ambling into History by Frank Bruni. Bruni, a New York Times reporter, was with George W on the campaign, and this book is all about the prez, his character, his handlers, campaigning, the press, politics and all that stuff, as one sees it through a presidential campaign. (There is also a bit about Bush around 9/11, when Bruni used his insights to analyze what was going on.) It is fascinating. I learnt a lot more about Bush and his family, some of which was quite appalling, much of which is very funny (unpresidential goofs and the like), and some of which was very unsettling: I mean, I dislike Bush as much as the next guy (unless the next guy's Mike), but Bruni, who is no Bush partisan - he works for the NYT! - shows that the guy is actually human. At times I almost warmed to him, and to his parents. (There's a very funny scene when Bush ran his first and only marathon, in 1996. His parents were standing a couple miles from the finishing line. When they saw him, Barbara shouted "There are old ladies going faster than you. Get a move on," but George senior just said, "That's my boy.") Bruni even convincingly dispels the myth that Bush is dumb, or no reader (he may not be an intellectual, but that's a different matter): I was rather shocked to read about Bush recommending one of my favourite books, In the Lake of the Woods by Tim O'Brien. Eek! We share some of the same tastes! Makes me feel a little dirty, and yet powerful at the same time.
I think this is actually quite an important book for the insights it gives on a sitting president's character, and for a view on how campaigns work. I think all those interested in Bush, politics and the press should read it, especially those who don't like the man - this'll challenge some of your prejudices. My DC boys should definitely read it.
So now, you may be asking why it is that I only read books I like. Perhaps I have no taste. Or I'm really lucky. Or I have learnt how to pick books that I will enjoy. Well, it's a combination of the 3. Also, I don't finish books I don't like. (My records lengthwise are Primary Colors - 2 paragraphs - and Gravity's Rainbow - 250 pages. No hyperlinks because they both suck.) Still, every now and then I read a bad book, and a recent disappointment was Freddie Mercury by Peter Freestone, his PA for years. Unfortunately, the guy can't write, and what he does write isn't interesting - no revelations, nothing insightful about Freddie, my first rock god. He clearly loved Freddie, so he doesn't want to reveal any confidences. And he wasn't that interested in music. What a pity. Oh well. (In case you're wondering, I lasted 40 pages.)
More books soon, as I'm nearly finished a couple.
Alan Hollinghurst's Line of Beauty, which won the 2004 Booker Prize, was a revelation. I loved it, and was a bit surprised. To explain why, I must talk a bit first about the previous Hollinghurst I read, The Folding Star. The book was written very lushly, quite intricate, all the words and sentences seemed rather meaningful. As everyone says, Hollinghurst is a superb craftsman. But it just didn't grab me, I think (and thought) because the subject matter was somewhat alien. It was all about gay sex and an obscure Belgian artist whom I didn't know and still don't. The sex was pretty explicit and not very moving (but sex, when written about in detail, usually isn't, I find). I wasn't turned off, but I was a little alienated. Reading that one wasn't a complete waste of time, but I didn't recommend it to anyone.
The Line of Beauty, however, I recommend to all of you (both of you? you alone? Marvin?) - it too has lots of gay sex, and lots of obscure artists, but this time it isn't about that. It's set in the Thatcher years, and has a cast of very well-rounded, interesting characters. It also has a plot, narrative, pace - all of which were missing from The Folding Star. And it's true: every sentence is perfect. My favourite: "Nick felt a tear rise to his eye at the thought of the child's utter innocence of hangovers."
Henry James features quite a bit in the book, and people see Hollinghurst as very much in the Jamesian tradition. Well, on the evidence of this one at least, I think he's better, as I find it possible to read his books.
Sticking with beauty, I also read Zadie Smith's third novel, On Beauty. Again, I had read her previously - I loved her first novel, White Teeth - and had heard good things about this. I wasn't disappointed at all - the book is much fun and most engaging. What's interesting is that whereas Hollinghurst returns to similar themes - love/sex and art - this book is very different from White Teeth. White Teeth was a coming-of-age novel with a huge cast of characters in multicultural northwest London. This, on the other hand, is a campus novel with a subplot about Rembrandt. OK, you still have a fairly multicultural cast, but it really focuses on a family, rather than a society. It's very funny at times, and quite touching as well. To be honest, the ending disappoints, and it isn't perfect, but it's a worthwhile, entertaining book. (Interestingly, while Hollinghurst owes a debt to James, she follows E.M. Forster in this one. I read my first Forster last year - A Passage to India - and found it wonderful. I shall read more.)
Another novel which was wonderful fun was Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, which reimagines early 19th century England as if magic existed. It's long - nearly 1,000 pages - but very easy reading - I finished it in 4 days (admittedly, I didn't have much else to do). It's written most of the time as a quasi-biography, with footnotes and references to other books and publishers which never existed; I enjoy that kind of postmodern lark. Some people think not enough happens for all the promise of a society with magic, but I really enjoyed the low-key plot -- if magic existed, magical happenings wouldn't be spectacular cliffhanger episodes all the time. Don't get me wrong, there is lots of tension and suspense in the book, and a fair amount of "action" in the second half. At least, I thought so. (I think this book could be a litmus test for which Getz you're most like - my sister didn't enjoy it at all.)
Moving away from fiction, I finally read a book I've been wanting to read for ages: Ambling into History by Frank Bruni. Bruni, a New York Times reporter, was with George W on the campaign, and this book is all about the prez, his character, his handlers, campaigning, the press, politics and all that stuff, as one sees it through a presidential campaign. (There is also a bit about Bush around 9/11, when Bruni used his insights to analyze what was going on.) It is fascinating. I learnt a lot more about Bush and his family, some of which was quite appalling, much of which is very funny (unpresidential goofs and the like), and some of which was very unsettling: I mean, I dislike Bush as much as the next guy (unless the next guy's Mike), but Bruni, who is no Bush partisan - he works for the NYT! - shows that the guy is actually human. At times I almost warmed to him, and to his parents. (There's a very funny scene when Bush ran his first and only marathon, in 1996. His parents were standing a couple miles from the finishing line. When they saw him, Barbara shouted "There are old ladies going faster than you. Get a move on," but George senior just said, "That's my boy.") Bruni even convincingly dispels the myth that Bush is dumb, or no reader (he may not be an intellectual, but that's a different matter): I was rather shocked to read about Bush recommending one of my favourite books, In the Lake of the Woods by Tim O'Brien. Eek! We share some of the same tastes! Makes me feel a little dirty, and yet powerful at the same time.
I think this is actually quite an important book for the insights it gives on a sitting president's character, and for a view on how campaigns work. I think all those interested in Bush, politics and the press should read it, especially those who don't like the man - this'll challenge some of your prejudices. My DC boys should definitely read it.
So now, you may be asking why it is that I only read books I like. Perhaps I have no taste. Or I'm really lucky. Or I have learnt how to pick books that I will enjoy. Well, it's a combination of the 3. Also, I don't finish books I don't like. (My records lengthwise are Primary Colors - 2 paragraphs - and Gravity's Rainbow - 250 pages. No hyperlinks because they both suck.) Still, every now and then I read a bad book, and a recent disappointment was Freddie Mercury by Peter Freestone, his PA for years. Unfortunately, the guy can't write, and what he does write isn't interesting - no revelations, nothing insightful about Freddie, my first rock god. He clearly loved Freddie, so he doesn't want to reveal any confidences. And he wasn't that interested in music. What a pity. Oh well. (In case you're wondering, I lasted 40 pages.)
More books soon, as I'm nearly finished a couple.
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