Angela Carter - Several Perceptions

I discovered the wonderful world of Angela Carter only last year, and I've been trying to read all her works slowly, savouring every moment of it. Of course, the bonus is the gorgeous covers, which draws me to her books like a moth.... The thing with Several Perceptions is, it's totally unlike anything I've read before. "Down the rabbit hole" would be one way to describe it, as we join Joseph, a disillusioned young man, in the 1960s, as he grapples with the meaning of life. Set in the Bohemian 'flower power' era, the people we meet fit some of the much talked about 1960s stereotypes: nature lovers, infrequent bathers, and people roaming the streets barefoot.

Joseph, it seems, is going through a very early midlife crisis. His girlfriend has moved on without him, and he's just listless, as he sees some less than ideal things around him: Vietnam, children taunting an old man with an imaginary fiddle, the caged badger in the zoo...

After a failed suicide attempt, Joseph tries to return to life, pulling all kinds of crazy stunts - some hilarious, some psychotic. They seem equally balanced between being well thought out and impulsive, and one just wonders what unexpected event is going to occur next.

If Joseph's adventures with his friends and neighbours isn't addictive enough to read about, we also meet his psychiatrist, and gain some more insight into the way the mind works for some people!

"I bet those lepers hated St. Francis," he added unexpectedly. "Fancy having a perfect stranger come up and kiss you just 'coz you've got a skin infection, just to show off what a big heart he had, you never hear the leper's side of the story. What if a leper out of the blue had jumped up and kissed St. Francis. I bet St. Francis would have been ever so affronted."

While I didn't enjoy this book as much as The Magic Toyshop, I still found it to be a witty fascinating book, and loved the characters - the fact that they all seemed polar opposites of one another. There are multifarious allusions to a myriad of things: from Alice In Wonderland, to Freud! It seems like a completely different world, with completely different rules, which change every moment of every day. In the words of Queen, "Easy come, easy go" just about sums up Joseph's life.

Just discovered that this is Carter's third book, and was written right after The Magic Toyshop. The subjects she deals with are so different, but, she still does an incredible job of holding the whole plot together, without overdoing the hyperbolism.

Alice Munro - Runaway

As some of you may already know, I'm not a big fan of short stories. So, when I started this collection, I was almost prepared to be underwhelmed and dissatisfied. Yet, I had heard wonderful things about Munro, and figured I really should give at least one collection a try. Worst case, I'll shelve it mid-way. Boy, it's time to eat my words, for I absolutely loved this collection. My usual complaints about plot depth and shallow characterisations fall short, simply because of Munro's writing style. She keeps it short, succinct, simple, and portrays real people at particular moments in time - those moments in time when they're at their weakest, most vulnerable, or most reflective. The history is irrelevant. The future still unseen.

She hopes as people who know better hope for undeserved blessings, spontaneous remissions, things of that sort.

There are eight stories in the collection, each with a one word title. While I could delve into what each story is about, I shall refrain from doing so. It's pointless summarising eight different short stories, simply because I don't think I'll be able to do any justice to them. And then of course, there's the threat of a spoiler....

I will say this though, the first (and title) story of the collection didn't really do it for me, but the subsequent stories were wonderful. Three of them featured the same protagonist at different stages of her life - as an academic, a young mother, and then her return to academia, and those three stories stood out, in my opinion. Both, Trespasses and Tricks were wonderful, and there was something incredibly refreshing about them.

Apologies for the short review, and lack of detail, but I think it's something you have to pick up on your own to enjoy. There's no hero. No villain. No victim. It's just regular people. Another place, another time, and it could just as easily be you or me.

As I'm re-thinking my stance on short-stories, do you have any to recommend? Have you read anything by Munro? Would you endorse other collections by her?

Muriel Spark - A Far Cry From Kensington

Sometimes, I wonder about myself. Half way through this Fantastic February Female Frivolities (I like alliterations, love double alliterations...), I realised I hadn't picked out a single Virago Modern Classic. Like I said, sometimes, I do wonder about myself. Anyway, the minute this hit me, I reached out for the first VMC I could find on my shelf, and here you have it: Muriel Spark's A Far Cry From Kensington. I haven't read anything by Muriel Spark before, and to be honest, I've always been kind-of intimidated by her works. I wasn't quite sure as to what to expect with A Far Cry From Kensington, but I definitely didn't expect it to be such an easy read - easy enough to finish in just one sitting!

Narrated by Mrs. Hawkins, a war widow, A Far Cry From Kensington is her reflections on a post-War London when she stayed in a "rooming house" in South Kensington, and worked in publishing houses in the early 1950s. Mrs. Hawkins is a likeable narrator - she doesn't hesitate to call a spade a spade, and there's no beating around the bush. Even when she talks about herself, she's direct, honest, and slightly hyperbolic - always good attributes in a story-teller.

There was something about me, Mrs Hawkins, that invited confidences. I was abundantly aware of it, and indeed abundance was the impression I gave. I was massive in size, strong-muscled, huge-bosomed, with wide hips, hefty long legs, a bulging belly and fat backside; I carried an ample weight with my five-foot-six of height, and was healthy with it.

One of the unwritten items on the job spec at a publishers is being diplomatic. While Mrs. Hawkins was well-liked and respected by everyone around her (even her boss confided in her), diplomacy wasn't her strongest asset. On calling an aspiring author, Hector Bartlett, pisseur de copie (a urinator of 'frightful prose') to his face, she finds herself in hot water - the author had a strong relationship with a famous influential authoress, Emma Loy, and she was looking out for him. Inevitably, Mrs. Hawkins lost her job, but the two authors (one famous, the other still unpublished) continued to plague her career, as she herself refused to withdraw the remark.

The secondary thread of the novel revolves around the other inhabitants in the housing, and how they bond together. Wanda, the Polish dressmaker receives an anonymous letter, which threatens to expose her to Inland Revenue for not paying her taxes, and the poor woman is convinced that she will be deported. Mrs. Hawkins (and the other residents) try to sleuth around, eliminating all possible suspects one by one... and then the episode slips to the back of their minds, until Wanda receives an intimidating phone call. The cycle repeats.

The book represents the post-War London, where people from different backgrounds are still affected by the horror of war, but, they're taking on the challenges to make a new life, almost optimistically. Throw in some extortion (fraudulence), some homosexuality, a budding love, humour, wit and even radionics (!), and you've got yourself an absorbing fascinating story, with vivid realistic characters - some awful, some immense. For instance, Hector Bartlett really is a pisseur de copie, but, by the time the book comes to a close, that's not the only phrase you'll use to describe him!

Oh, and let me repeat a small part of the opening paragraph of the book, for it drew me in immediately, and I felt compelled to keep flipping the pages. Even when I flipped to the last page, I almost felt as though I should go back and start from page one.

Can you decide to think? - Yes, you can. You can put your mind to anything most of the time. You can sit peacefully in front of a blank television set, just watching nothing; and sooner or later you can make your own programme much better than the mass product. It's fun, you should try it. You can put anyone you like on the screen, one or in company, saying and doing what you want them to do, with yourself in the middle if you prefer it that way.

Have you read any Muriel Spark? Do you have any recommendations as to what I should read next?

Erich Segal - Doctors

With a single exception they were all white. And with five exceptions, all male.

Doctors follows the Harvard Medical School's Class of 1962 through the hell of medical school, fatigue of the internship and residency, and battles as doctors once they've chosen their speciality. Not only does it focus on the professional demands of medicine, but also on the life and loves of the graduates.

It seems as though the book spans multiple eras, from the Spanish Civil War, to World War II, to Vietnam; from a time when women, Jews and blacks were discriminated against, to Martin Luther King's I Have A Dream speech; from the time when doctors worried more about the legal consequences of their actions before helping a dying patient to - well, some things never change.

The central characters of the book are the two best friends from Brooklyn: Laura and Barney. Both follow their dreams of becoming doctors for different reasons: for Laura, it's survivor's guilt; for Barney, it's having a father figure in Laura's father, as his own father was away at war for most of his childhood. The first chunk of the book revolves around the two families, before the curtains open for the reader to be introduced to various other characters: Bennett Landsmann, a black aspiring surgeon whose parents are Holocaust survivors; Seth Lazarus, a brilliant student who hates watching patients suffer more than anything else; and Peter Wyman, an obnoxious intelligent doctor, whose ambition is to be simply the best. There are many more characters, but, I think those three were the most powerful.

In their years at Harvard, the class sees their fellow classmates attempt suicide (and in some cases, succeed), pop pills, or be addicted to some caffeine source or the other. They dissect their first cadaver, open up breathing dogs, and need to know the names of all the bacteria that exist on the teeth! Yet, taking a step back from medicine, there's the Malpractice Cup: a basketball game between the Law School and the Medical School; facing family problems like their mother turning into a lay sister and the father going to Cuba as Castro's got the right idea; falling in love and moving on.

When they move on to the real world, things get more complicated. Identity crises, relationships souring over the demands of their chosen profession, moral dilemmas over euthanasia take center-stage (and the courtroom), one of the doctors is unable to continue in his stream due to no fault of his, but through it all, their friendships stay tight: Barney and Laura; Barney and Bennett; Laura and Grete. And when push comes to shove, the most unlikely of the classmates comes through as well.

The ordinary person worships doctors as if they're gods; if not gods, at least super-humans. However, this book is an insight into how flawed doctors are as people (almost each of them was talking to a shrink by the end of the book), and the kind of things that drive them, and the kind of things that break them. It's funny in bits, heartbreaking in others and Erich Segal does a wonderful job of bringing the emotions and characters to life, such that you feel like you've known them (and liked them... or disliked them) forever.

Michael Cunningham - The Hours

It's not often a book leaves me completely speechless. Wowed. Awestruck. Absolutely blown away. But then again, it's not often that I come across a book like Michael Cunningham's The Hours. Both, Claire and Rachel, recommended the book to me, saying I should read it once I finish Mrs. Dalloway. And then, I saw this fantastic review over at deucekindred's blog, and I felt compelled to read the book sooner rather than later - specially as I'd just finished the Virginia Woolf classic as part of Woolf In Winter. In the first chapter, Clarissa, a fifty-something year old woman, steps out to buy some flowers for a party she's having that evening. She loves the city she's in, enjoys the hustle-bustle of life, bumps into an old friend, and contemplates the perfect party that evening.

However, unlike Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, Clarissa isn't in London this time, but in New York. It's not the 1920s anymore, but we've fast-forwarded to 1999. And, Clarissa isn't Mrs. Dalloway, but, she's Clarissa Vaughn. Her best friend, Richard (a poet suffering from AIDS), does call her Mrs. Dalloway after the famous fictional character though...

While the book chronicles a day in her life, as she plans the perfect party (in honour of Richard), much like Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, the book also chronicles one day in the life of two other women in different times and places: Virginia Woolf in the 1920s and Laura Brown in Los Angeles in the 1940s. All three stories are interspersed with one another, resulting in a heartbreaking emotional masterpiece, that illustrates that despite the barriers of time and space, lives do interlock.

The second chapter is when we're introduced to the legendary author in the 1920s. Virginia Woolf's account is semi-fictional. She's ill, refers to herself as an eccentric genius, and lives in Richmond with her supportive loving husband, trying to recuperate, but missing London dreadfully. Cunningham imagines Woolf in the initial stages of writing Mrs. Dalloway - her thoughts, her inspirations and her character development - as well as her illness, and her fragile state of mind.

She despises Richmond. She is starved for London; she dreams sometimes about the hearts of cities. Here, where she been taken to live for the last eight years precisely because it is neither strange now marvellous, she is largely free of headaches and voices, the fits of rage. Here all she desires is a return to the dangers of city life.

And the third chapter introduces us to Laura Brown in the 1940s. Mrs. Brown is the wife of a World War II veteran, and she has a three year old child. She's a recluse, an obsessive reader, who is working her way through all of Woolf's fiction, and has just started Mrs. Dalloway. And, she has suicidal tendencies.

Right now she is reading Virginia Woolf, all of Virginia Woolf, book by book - she is fascinated by the idea of a woman like that, a woman of such brilliance, such strangeness, such immeasurable sorrow; a woman who had genius but still filled her pocket with a stone and waded out into a river.

The prologue is set in 1941: a new War has just begun, and Woolf is walking purposefully toward the river, certain of what she'll do. The prologue ends with her husband discovering her suicide note... and me feeling incredibly overwhelmed, just eight pages in. Cunningham doesn't mince words, doesn't beat around the bush, but the language is wonderfully concise, while being eloquent and metaphoric.

Cunningham also makes subtle changes to the story of Mrs. Dalloway, to illustrate its timelessness and universality. Moving from one big city to the city that never sleeps, making Clarissa lovers with Sally, and Richard taking on Septimus' role (I think), are just some of the quirks that makes the story read almost completely differently. However, if you read this book prior to reading Mrs. Dalloway, I strongly suggest reading the classic.

And then, we get into the intricacies. According to this work, Woolf intended Clarissa to be the suicidal character in her novel - that despite her love for life, some small domestic failure could potentially push her over the edge. Say, her party being a failure? From what we know of Clarissa Dalloway, would that be so impossible? Was Clarissa Dalloway merely a reflection of Woolf herself? Or, was fiction and reality still two completely different threads for Woolf in the 1920s?

Someone else will die. It should be a greater mind than Clarissa's; it should be someone with sorrow and genius enough to turn away from the seductions of the world, its cups and its coats.

This is a multi-layered story, with enough allusions to merit a thesis of sorts. I'm still left flabbergasted as to how much I loved this book, and how little justice (if any) I've done to its genius with my extremely trite review. What leaves me really puzzled is, how on earth did the author pack in so much in just 226 pages? Details, amazing descriptions, incredible characterisations and an enthralling storyline of three complex women, while simultaneously reworking one of the greatest classics of the last century, Cunningham's book is pure gold.

Virginia Woolf - Mrs. Dalloway

Claire {@ kissacloud} and three friends are doing a Woolf In Winter read-along. The first book they're tackling is Mrs. Dalloway, and it's being hosted by Sarah {@ what we have here is a failure to communicate}. I picked up the Vintage classic last year, while idly browsing a second hand book store, and have since been extremely ambivalent about it - mostly because I've never read a book by Virginia Woolf, and I have an inexplicable fear of the unknown, specially when it comes to much-acclaimed classics. Mrs. Dalloway is probably the most difficult novel I've ever read. And, I'll go out on a limb and say it's probably (one of) the most difficult book(s) I'll ever read.

Woolf's meanderings is essentially a stream-of-consciousness-style narrative to provide an insight into the lives of a few Londoners, including the protagonist: Clarissa Dalloway, who is preoccupied with the last minute details of a party she is to give that evening. Yet, the book digresses between reality, flashbacks as well as imaginary visions of the characters, and these digressions are helped greatly by the complete absence of chapters, so that the reader is left trying to figure out which character's on centre-stage at any given point in time, and how their story fits in the grand scheme of things, the grand finale, the party.

Set in London, a few years after the first World War, Mrs. Dalloway unsurprisingly starts off with the spotlight on the protagonist herself, the wife of a politician, who is planning to throw a party. Yet, as the book progresses, and the clock on the Big Ben ticks, the spotlight falls on a myriad of characters including Peter Walsh, an ex-boyfriend of Mrs. Dalloway, who has just come back to London, and brings back old memories; Septimus Smith, a war veteran, who seems disconnected from the story, as he slips into insanity, haunted by the ghost of one of his friends who died during the war; doctors who attempt treating Smith; his worried wife, Rezia; Mrs. Dalloway's daughter Elizabeth, and Mrs. Dalloway's enemy, Miss. Kilman.

The story, in real terms, lasts just one day, but, with the many different perspectives that Woolf weaves in, it seems to last a lifetime (in a good way). It's sensitive, philosophical even, giving an insight into human nature as we don't really know it, but, emphasising, ever so subtly, on the appreciation of life, and the eventuality of death.

So, he was deserted. The whole world was clamouring: Kill yourself, kill yourself, for our sakes. But why should he kill himself for their sakes? Food was pleasant; the sun hot; and this killing oneself, how does one set about it, with a table knife, uglily, with floods of blood - by sucking a gaspipe?

It's a relatively short novel, at 172 pages. However, it took me over five hours to finish it, and all my concentration. There were sentences about fourteen lines long, there were connotations long-winded and intense, there were provoking thoughts that stayed on, long after you'd flipped the page. Yes, Mrs. Dalloway's primary preoccupation was with the party, and exulting in life's wake. She had married a man she presumably didn't love as much as she loved someone else. Yet, her character is anything but superficial, flawed with merits - or, should that be meritorious with flaws?

She muddled Armenians with Turks; loved success; hated discomfort; must be liked; talked oceans of nonsense; and to this day, ask her what the Equator was, and she did not know.

All the same that one day should follow another; Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday; that one should wake up in the morning; walk in the park; meet Hugh Whitbread; then suddenly in came Peter; then these roses; it was enough. After that, how unbelievable death was! - that it must end; and no one in the whole world would know how she had loved it all; how every instant...

The other thing I loved about this book was it's glimpses into London in the early 1900s. I thought that Woolf captured the heart and soul of central London beautifully (this book is mostly based in and around Westminster), and I actually felt that I was accompanying the characters, as they ambled the streets, or rode the Omnibus, or napped in Regents Park, or, for that matter, enjoyed the hustle-bustle at the Strand.

I am really pleased that I read this book, and I will be seeking another Woolf book sometime in the future, albeit, I don't think I can do four Woolfs in eight weeks - it's seriously hard work! Hats off to all those of you who are! Claire {@ Paperback Reader} and Rachel {@ Book Snob} recommended reading Michael Cunningham's The Hours after reading Woolf's masterpiece. Subsequently, I'll be reading it later this month.

Thanks to Claire {kissacloud}, Sarah {what we have here is a failure to communicate}, Emily {evening all afternoon} and Frances {Nonsuch Book} for hosting this wonderful read-along.

Junot Diaz - The Brief Wondrous Life Of Oscar Wao

The Brief Wondrous Life Of Oscar Wao won the Pultizer Prize for Fiction in 2008. The protagonist, Oscar, is an overweight American boy (with Dominican roots), who aspires to be the next Tolkien. His interests include writing passionately, role-playing games, comic books, sci-fi and fantasy, and of course, women. However, one bad experience with his first love meant his adolescent nerdliness vaporising any iota of a chance he had for young love. He lives in New Jersey with his demanding difficult-to-please mother, Belicia, and his rebellious punk sister, Lola.  While the protagonist of this book is Oscar, it's narrated by Yunior - Oscar's roommate from college, as well as a love interest of Lola. Also, this is not a book about "the brief wondrous life of Oscar Wao" - instead, it's an epic story of the curse (fukú) that Oscar's family has been subject to, for the past two generations, in the hands of Trujillo, a dictator in the Dominican Republic in the mid-1900s.

This is a book rich in history, cultural references and social comparisons.

That's white people for you. They lose a cat and it's an all-points bulletin, but we Dominicans, we lose a daughter and we might not even cancel our appointment at the salon.

We learn of the hardships the family has faced, the co-incidental misfortunes that have befallen each of the members, the lucklessness and hopelessness that seems to embrace all the characters, and how everything is ascribed to fukú - its only counterspell being zafa - which, the narrator admits, that the book might be.

I wonder if this book ain't a zafa of sorts. My very own counterspell.

More importantly, the book is an insight into the harsh rule of Trujillo, a man who

took your wife houses, your properties, put your pops and your moms in jail. Well, it was because he wanted to f- the beautiful daughter of the house. And your family wouldn't let him!

So, despite the fukú that Oscar is under, the past overshadows his present, and the importance of the migration to the States, as well as the hardships his mother has undergone is the predominant story. Oscar's presence, in the grand scheme of things, is "brief" and debatably "wondrous".

Yunior (the narrator) speaks (writes) in colloquial english, with Dominican words and phrases scattered throughout the narrative. All the historical references are accompanied with footnotes, to give context to the events that occur, and this makes the book more real, more interesting, and ultimately, more thought-provoking. I don't know much about Dominican history, and I haven't read any book about DR before. Reading this book has actually been an informative and enriching experience. Dare I say, even wondrous?

The only problem I had with the book was some of the Dominican phrases/words that were left unexplained. I could more-or-less guess what was being said, but, in some cases, I wasn't sure at all. Additional footnotes might have been handy there, if including those references in the main text would break the flow.

Rating: B

Daphne Du Maurier - My Cousin Rachel

For twenty four years, Daphne Du Maurier has eluded me, and I'm still trying to figure out how! I read Rebecca earlier this year, and loved it, which led me to pick up My Cousin Rachel. Surprise, surprise! I loved it as well. My Cousin Rachel is narrated by Philip Ashley, who was orphaned at a young age, and brought up by his older affluent cousin, Ambrose. Philip is totally devoted to Ambrose, and in turn, Ambrose to his naive younger cousin.

Health problems force Ambrose to spend the winter months in Italy, and one year, he sends a letter home saying he is married to Rachel. Philip, consumed by jealousy, isn't able to share the happiness and excitement that the friends and family seem to revel in.

My cousin Rachel had a dozen personalities or more and each one more hateful than the last. I saw her forcing Ambrose to his knees to play at bears, the children astride his back, and Ambrose consenting with a humble grace, having lost all dignity.

When Ambrose's letters home mention sickness, and further ill-health, Philip makes plans to visit his cousin. The last letter received before his departure has an almost illegible scroll: For God's sake, come to me quickly. She has done for me at last, Rachel my torment. If you delay, it may be too late. Ambrose.

By the time Philip reaches Florence, Ambrose has passed on - a result of a brain tumour, the doctors day. Philip refuses to believe that, and insists that Rachel has had something to do with his cousin's unfortunate and untimely demise. Rachel has disappeared, and left the handling of her affairs (and villa) to a untrustworthy-looking man, Rainaldi.

Philip, the heir of Ambrose's estate, returns home and attempts continuing running things as he has been taught, silently glad that Rachel wasn't left anything in Ambrose's will. However, when Rachel comes to England, she seems to be the diametric opposite of what Philip thought, and he quickly discards his many theories associating her with Ambrose's death.

Not having a relationship with any woman previously, Philip is drawn to Rachel like a moth to a flame, and acts naively and impulsively - much reminiscent of the narrator in Rebecca. Yet, Rachel plays the part of the mourning widow to perfection, instead of acting like the black widow... yet, the questions are always there: was Rachel responsible for the events in Italy? Will history repeat itself?

The beauty of this book is in Du Maurier's immense skill of weaving a dramatic plot, that leaves the reader on the edge of their seat. Hints are scattered around artistically, and the various clues that make up the story keeps the reader guessing right till the very end - and beyond. If you had questions while reading the book, the number of questions that flood your mind once the book is completed increases tenfold.

Rating: A

Eudora Welty - The Robber Bridegroom

I stumbled upon The Robber Bridegroom in a second hand bookstore, and was intrigued immediately, by the  quote on the cover:

A Gothic fairy tale set in the eighteenth century Mississippi.

I like Gothic fairy tales, most of the time, and this was no exception. It had all the key ingredients, worthy of a Grimm tale: a rich plantation owner, a beautiful daughter, the evil step mother, the bandits, and the neighbour's pesky son.

Rosamond Musgrove lives with her father, a plantation owner, and her evil stepmother, Salome. While the father dotes on Rosamond, the typical step mother sends her to the far sides of the woods to get herbs, hoping some ill will fall upon her. She even hires the neighbour's idiot son to harm her step daughter... And, one day, harm does befall the naive innocent daughter, when she meets a bandit while running errands, and from that point, things change...

When I first finished this book, packed with interesting characters, and a couple of parallel stories (including tales about Little Harp and Mike Fink), I was disappointed. I thought the characters hadn't really been developed, and the book was superficial. Now, though, I think I appreciate its subtleties a lot more: be it the interaction between the bandits, the choices made by Rosamond, or the varying emotions that carry the book. Barring a couple of scenes, the book is practically suitable for children, and through the entire book, you do wonder when the fairy god mother is going to emerge to wave her wand, and make it all okay.

Rating: C

Peter Carey - My Life As A Fake

Peter Carey, an Australian novelist, is one of only two authors to have won the Booker Prize twice, for the works Oscar and Lucinda (1988) and True History of the Kelly Gang (2001). While I have both books on my to-read list, I thought I'd introduce myself to Peter Carey with one of his later books (published in 2004), My Life As A Fake. The premise of My Life As A Fake is based on a real literary hoax in Australia in the 1940s: When Ern Malley, a garage mechanic, died at a young age, his sister sent a bunch of poems written by him to a modernist magazine, hoping to determine if the poems were any good or not. The magazine, Angry Penguin, devoted a whole issue to the works of Malley, as the editor thought they were written by a poet in the same class as Dylan Thomas or WH Auden. The public reaction wasn't quite what he expected, and later on, it was found out that the editor had been hoaxed by two young poets who were in the Army at that point in time. The two young poets were exhausted of the pretentious intellectuals that defined most of the world around them, and they just wanted to call them out as 'fakes' - not real intellects or, real connoisseurs of poetry.

Carey's novel is a complicated fictionalised version of these events, with new characters being drawn in, and a Frankenstien-esque character emerging. When Sarah, the editor of an esteemed poetry publication in England, travels to Malaysia with a friend of her parents (John Slater, a famous poet), she meets Chubb - the hoaxer. Against the warnings of Slater, she speaks to him, and hears his story, hoping to find an epic poem for her magazine, which he put before her on one of their first meetings. In the fictional account, the editor of the magazine kills himself, after coming face to face with Chubb's monster: McCorkle. While McCorkle originally existed only in Chubb's head, as the book progresses we find that someone does come forward, insisting he's McCorkle... and then meets Chubb and accuses him of not giving him a childhood, and then requesting his birth certificate! In fact, the poem Chubb showed Sarah was written by the "true" McCorkle.

The story takes both, Chubb and McCorkle to various places, as the creator tries to destroy the monster, who is hell-bent on ruining his life - first by kidnapping his daughter, and then going on an adventure in the Malaysian jungles! The sequence of beautifully described, extremely vivid and extraordinary events, set in Malaysia and Indonesia, with some very colourful characters is surreal, and at times, one does think unnecessary. Yet, it does boil down to Sarah's patience in return for that one piece of genius which Chubb put before her initially.

While the story intrigues, my main gripe with the book was that it was very passive. All the events were in the past, and for the most part, Chubb was narrating his story to Sarah. Within his story, another protagonist emerged, and it got increasingly confusing to figure out who was saying what - specially as the editors and the authors decided to forgo the use of double quotes. I had to go back and re-read parts of it, just to keep track of what was going on. As the book progressed, I found I really didn't care that much as to how things unfolded, and ended up speed reading (skim reading) the last hundred-odd pages.

Rating : D

David Guterson - East of the Mountains

Background: This is the final book read, as part of the Take A Chance Challenge hosted by Jenners. Challenge#7, i.e. Random Bestseller reads:

Go to Random.org and, using the True Random Number Generator, enter the number 1950 for the min. and 2008 for the max. and then hit generate. Then go to this site and find the year that Random.org generated for you and click on it. Then find the bestseller list for the week that would contain your birthday for that year. Choose one of the bestsellers from the list that comes up, read it and write about it.

So, I came up with 1999, May 6, and the book I ended up picking was David Guterson's bestseller, East of the Mountains.

Review:

While a 1999 bestseller is promising, I regret to say I didn't finish this book. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have picked the book up, but, let's face it: the whole point of this challenge was to pick books I wouldn't have normally "taken a chance on". The thing is, the book is really beautifully written, with amazing descriptions about the landscapes, that the author brings to life:

At the far end of Keechelus Lake, the sky eastward opened wide over distant coulees, buttes, and canyons, all swathed in morning light. Ahead lay a low film of red on the horizon where the sun was new; the road wound down through a a stand of grand firs with long, broad, flat needles.

The story revolves around Dr. Ben Givens, a widower suffering from terminal cancer. He decides to go on a last hunting trip, from which he never intends to return, as he meticulously plans his death, so that it seems like an accident. Essentially, he doesn't want his daughter and grandson to undergo the pains of seeing him suffering.

However, almost before he starts his journey, his plans are turned upside down, by an accident, but he continues with his dogs, on foot, reflecting on the life gone by.

It does sound like an interesting read, but the minute the book started talking about hunting, and killing small birds, I stopped reading it. I don't know why, but, it just made me wary. It's weird, because I enjoy a good murder mystery. My love for reading started with crime thrillers, and I have read some reasonably gory books centring around misanthropists and misogynists. Yet, I just can't stomach cruelty to animals... and, I don't get why!

I'm not going to bother rating this book, because clearly, it's not for me, but, I am going to spend some time introspecting as to why cruelty to animals hits me so hard. I stopped reading this about two weeks ago, and I'm still at a loss.

Any ideas? Do any of you feel strongly about something that you can't really explain as well? Is it just a temporary thing? Please help!

Molly Keane - Full House

I stumbled upon this book in a second-hand bookstore, and fell in love with the cover. It's also my first green Virago Modern Classic, and I was quite excited to begin this journey... luckily, it didn't disappoint, which is nice, as my last two reads haven't been exceptionally good, by any standards. Set in the backdrop post the Great War, Full House introduces us to one of the most frightening mothers in literature, Lady Bird, and her family which is undergoing all kinds of transformations. John, the oldest child was on the brink of insanity, and was sent to a hospital. He is now returning home, much to the delight of the entire family, and Eliza - a friend to both, Lady Olivia Bird and Sir Julian Bird - has come to their magnificent home, Silverue, to share this momentous occasion with them.

However, while the early pages of the book deals with John's return, the story quickly develops into an account of the Bird children, their governess - Miss Parker, as well as the adults: Eliza, Julian and Olivia.

There's Mark, the cruel albeit adorable child, who is the apple of everyone's eyes, and everyone is completely captivated by his beauty, so much so that no one wants him to grow up. There's his older sister, Sheena, who is in love with a boy, but their engagement has been delayed due to their age. John, of course, is the oldest of the three, and his return home is the catalyst for the rest of the story, which includes posh tedious tennis parties, a garden tour for fundraising which exhausts everyone as Olivia pushes them to do her bidding, broken hearts, new loves, and changed lives. Questions are asked about total honesty, about doing what's right, and about loyalty. More questions are raised about true love, happiness, and friendship.

And of course... there's Lady Bird. A funny name, if there was one, but a formidable character, nonetheless. Cruel, girlish, and more focused on being an "older sister" to her children, than acting as their mother, Lady Bird is accustomed to getting her own way, and Julian indulges her. Her children don't have the nicest things to say about her, and despite threatening to leave, they never really intend to. Yet, she never registers her children's true opinion of her, as she focuses on looking "oppressively young", creating fantastic flower decorations, and contemplating a Swiss governess for her youngest son.

The inconsequence and the obviousness of all her posturings and nonsense. How could she blind herself to the fact that they could not deceive her reasonably intelligent and spiteful offspring. They did not see even the shadow of her pretended self, only her pretences. And in her affections she was most sincere. She had nothing else except her beauty, and that cold not affect them at all.

Words cannot do justice to the depth of this story. The writing is beautifully vivid, and the Birds are one of the most enchanting families I have across in the world of books. As the past catches up with the present, as old secrets emerge, and as despair overtakes some members of the house, one cannot help but share the emotions: sympathise, love, regret, shed tears, and hope for a happy ending, after everything the "poor dears" have been through.

This book was originally published in the 1930s, and the dialog is fantastic; full of "dears", "sweets" and "darlings". Terms of endearment and thrown about carelessly, as are aspersions cast. For instance, little Markie, at the age of seven, calls his sister "bitch". I was fairly taken aback there. Yet, hopeless romantic that I am, paragraphs like the below did make me smile and wonder where the times have gone? Where the innocence and tranquility has disappeared to? And maybe... to an extent, I am glad we don't talk like this anymore.....

"Eliza, look at me. Darling, you're so wonderful. Why didn't I know before you cared about me. Darling, tell me. Don't be so obstinate. Oh my god, I love you so much. I think I do, don't I?"

"How can I tell you if you love me, sweet one? I only know about myself."

In a nutshell, I loved this book. The candid opinions, the selfishness, the adorations and the affections.

Rating : A

PS : I am trying out a new rating system, linked above. Please let me know what you think of it - does it work, or not so much?