At The Library

I love libraries. I came home for a break, which was supposed to be just a week long. However, ended up falling ill, and it's now been over five weeks, and I'm still here. And, it's probably going to be a couple of weeks more. Sucks to be me, at the moment. But - enough of that. I essentially wanted light "frivolous" reading, while trying to recuperate (notice the word "trying"?), but the books I'd dragged along with me were more or less not. So, I visited the local library - a place I haven't visited for about nine years. I barely read in my last two years of school (don't ask - it's one of the few regrets I have), and then I went away to university, and wasn't ever home long enough to visit the library.

The age-old librarian still recognised me, and asked me how I was doing. Reminded me of how oft' I used to hang out at the library, just reading for ages, without a care for anything else. However, he said I'd have to re-apply for the library cards, which would take a couple of days to re-issue. I was well gutted, as I really don't want to buy books at the moment. Something to do with not really knowing what I feel like reading. Anyway, I took a long shot, and asked him if my library cards were still at the library, as I normally used to leave them there back in the day... Long shot indeed; it's been nine years! However, a pleasant surprise awaited me as the librarian managed to find four of the six cards I used to have. Yay!

So, I went a-book-searchin', and I was quite pleased with the books I took home, specially as I stumbled upon Peyton Place by sheer chance. I was looking at books by Daphne Du Maurier, and it was just there! I'd heard of Peyton Place ages ago, when I first heard Billy Joel's We Didn't Start The Fire. However, I had absolutely no idea what it referred to, until a few weeks back, when suddenly, I saw the name of the book practically everywhere in the blog'o'sphere.

The other books I checked out included Colleen McCullough's Angel, Adam Foulds' The Quickening Maze and Daphne Du Maurier's The Glass Blowers.

Friends have also recommended I read Vernon God Little and Northanger Abbey (along with Agatha Christie and PG Wodehouse). I'm not really in the mood for Wodehouse right now though. Do you guys have any other recommendations? I'm averaging about a book a day at the moment, and have very little else to do (well, I have been watching Prison Break), so all recommendations would be extremely welcome.

Haruki Murakami - Kafka On The Shore

Surrealism. I've reached the conclusion that it's the only word that can be used to describe Murakami's books. Kafka on the Shore is no exception. Leeches and fish rain down, there's a character called Johnnie Walker, and another called Colonel Saunders (of Kentucky Fried Chicken fame), a mysterious childhood "accident" results in one of the characters being able to speak to cats, and there's a portal to a parallel universe. The book follows two characters in interleaving chapters: Fifteen year old runaway, Kafka Tamura and Nakata, an elderly man who is considered "dumb" by most as he is unable to read or write. While neither of them are aware of the other's existence, there's a greater (almost supernatural) force that connects them.

Kafka ran away from home, after this father had cursed him with the Oedipus prophecy: that he would kill his father, and sleep with his mother and sister. His mother and sister had left home when he was merely four years old, and he has no recollection of them whatsoever. He figures he just has to be the toughest fifteen year old boy. Or, so "a boy called Crow" tells him.

And I bet the longer I live, the emptier, the more worthless, I'll become. Something's wrong with this picture. Life isn't supposed to turn out like this! Isn't it possible to shift direction, to change where I'm headed?"

Then there's Nakata, who fell unconscious after a bizarre attack while he was still at school. This so-called "attack" left sixteen children unconscious, but when they came to, their memories and intelligence was left intact. They simply had no recollection of the event itself. Nakata, however, lost all his intelligence, and his ability to read or write. Instead, he was bestowed with the ability to talk to cats, which led to him earning a little money by finding lost cats, in addition to the government "sub city" (subsidy) he received.

Kafka runs away to Takamatsu in Shikoku, and starts working in a small private library. He befriends the librarian, Oshima, as well as gets closer to the beautiful albeit melancholy Ms. Saeki, the manager - a lady who still mourns the demise of her long lost love, who was killed about thirty years previously.

Nakata, on the other hand, runs into a dangerous man, Johnnie Walker, in Kafka's hometown, who is kidnapping cats, and then killing them brutally in order to make a flute of their souls. In order to save the cats, Nakata ends up killing the man and then following his "fate" - he doesn't know what it is, but he'll know it when he sees it.

This was an obscure novel, which on finishing, I had more questions than answers. Who is "the boy named crow"? Did Kafka succumb to his fate, or did he manage to avoid it? Can ghosts of living people exist? Can ghosts of people's past exist? What connected the two characters? And, what actually happened to Nakata in his childhood, that left him bereft of his intelligence?

Don't get me wrong - I enjoyed this book, as I do most Murakamis. And, I would recommend it. Just remember, if and when you read it, it'll be a hell of a ride, and you'll be second guessing everything right till the last page - and beyond. While some bits were tedious to read, all in all, the characters and the surrealism made it a must-read for me.

Note: Kafka on the Shore is the first Murakami I ever had on my shelf. It was given to me as a present sometime in 2008, and I kept "saving it" for the right occasion. I planned on reading it when I went on holiday to Barbados last year, as part of the Japanese Literature Challenge 3 hosted by Bellezza last year, and a couple of other times as well. Finally read it about a year later, while the Japanese Literature Challenge 4 is being held. Have been meaning to write a post about the challenge itself for awhile, but kept getting sidetracked. Apologies.

Anyway, head over to Bellezza's, to find more reviews of Japanese Literature, and to see what everyone else is reading. Hope to see some of your reviews around as well. :)

John Wyndham - The Chrysalids

When I was quite small I would sometimes dream of a city -which was strange because it began before I even knew what a city was.

So opens John Wyndham's post-nuclear catastrophe dystopian novel, as narrated by David, a child living in a small place called Labrador. Not much is known about the nuclear war, how humanity survived, and the extent of the damage done. That's all in the past - all that matters is the present state of affairs, the present society, where mutation of any form is illegal, and anyone "different" is sent out to the Fringes and cast away from society.

It's a religious society, which staunchly believes that "any creature that shall seem to be human, but is not formed thus is not human. it is neither man nor woman. It is blasphemy against the true Image of God, and hateful in the sight of God," and David's father is one of those people who follows this to the tee. Everyone is taught the basic moralities of this society at a very young age:

Watch Thou for the Mutant

The Norm is the Will of God

The Devil is the Father of Deviation

and few, if any, question these maxims. However, when David befriends a "mutant," a girl with six toes, he starts puzzling over the ways of his world. Flowers, people and animals which are considered to be "deviant" are done away with, and even new born babies are inspected by the officials, before they are given the "certificate of humanity."

David himself is "different" though - he can telepathically communicate with a group of children (think Midnight's Children). When the authorities discover the "mutation" of this group of arguably gifted children, they flee to the Fringes, to escape the fate that awaits them in Labrador, with the Inspectors hot on their heels.

While this book is essentially an adventure story, it's also a discussion on human nature and society. If we juxtapose this against the present world, the two words that come to mind immediately are fundamentalism and conformity. The religion is laid out for everyone to follow, without them having a say in it. The Bible and another book, Repentances, survived the nuclear horror, and everyone is compelled to follow them, without challenging or contradicting any of their sayings. However, if we don't challenge society's beliefs or their norms, how do we figure out what's fair and what's right? How do we grow? How do we improve ourselves? And, if everyone is identical, and there's no tolerance for any "mutation,"  how do we evolve? How do we become a "developed" society?

I think those are the points Wyndham stresses on, as he creates this post-apocalyptic world. However, this book is fast-paced and essentially a thriller, so much so that the themes he discusses blend in with the story, and very much become a part of it: from the time David questions the beliefs of the society he belongs to, to the time he ponders Enlightment.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book - my first Wyndham incidentally. Post-apocalyptic dystopian novels seem to be a genre I rather "enjoy" (slightly warped?), so are there any other books you'd recommend? Or, any other books by Wyndham? Day of the Triffids and The Midwich Cuckoos are two that have been recommended to me recently.

James Scudamore - Heliopolis

Ludo, born in the favela of Heliopolis (a shantytown), is "lucky." He's escaped a life of squalor, on being formally adopted by the extremely rich Carnicelli family, who have also hired his mother as a cook in their farmhouse.

When she had nothing but a handful of beans to her name, the tough nugget of pride at her core sustained her. Then along came Ze and Rebecca, and took away that pride, replacing it with impotent gratitude. Like the mythological pelican slashing open her breast to sustain her young, my mother fed me her blood, and she took a mortal blow for me in the process.

Now in his mid-to-late twenties, Ludo reflects on life, the city he lives in, and his rags-to-riches story, which puts him in the awkward role of supposedly knowing both worlds : the squalor and the wealth, and trying to figure out where he belongs.

He's in love with his adopted sister (who he sleeps with occasionally, despite her being married), thinks his job (in advertising) is completely pointless and is mostly passive about most things - almost to the point of the passiveness being criminal! However, he's an insightful narrator, who sometimes has you nod in agreement and sometimes, just chuckle.

Practise your confidence tricks on the street and you risk getting shot by trigger-happy security guards; do it in the office and you get put on the board.

The other primary character, in my opinion, is Sao Paulo itself. The epigraph of this novel is a quote by Marlene Dietrich: Rio is a beauty. But Sao Paulo - Sao Paulo is a city. From a social perspective, the class divide that's shown, the general acceptance of it by the public, and the dignity with which the shantytown dwellers are portrayed makes the novel so much more colourful. Ze (Ludo's adoptive father) has not stepped on the grounds of the city for fifteen years, as his helicopter is his only mode of transportation, as nobody who's anybody gets driven to work in the city these days.

And then of course, you have the ambience of the Brazilian city, which is captured, almost to perfection:

Since the city took off in the nineteenth century, wave after wave of developers have ripped through it, obliterating what lies in their path. But occasionally, the past remains in isolated fragments that seem as if they have escaped the halo of a nuclear explosion.

The novel is fast-paced, and incredibly easy to read. It's not a translation, and Scudamore, in my opinion, has done an amazing job of making the book sound "Brazilian" enough, without anglicising the content overtly - a massive bonus! The other thing that I quite liked about this book was that each of the chapter headings reference food, be it Mango or Orange Juice; Crab Linguine or Feiojada. The food referenced in the chapter heading invariably appears in the chapter, and also plays a role in defining both: the social and cultural aspects of the city.

This is the first book I've read, that's based in Brazil, and I'd love to read more books set in Latin America. Do you have any recommendations? Possibly not a rags-to-riches story (although, I did read an interesting fact : the President of Brazil was buffing shoes and selling peanuts on the streets when he was ten years old! It's a city where the rags-to-riches story aren't always only a fairy-tale!), as I've read a fair few them in the recent past?

They've Made It To My Shelf!

It's been a while since I've done one of the "recent acquisitions" post. Part of the reason is, I've not been on a book buying binge for quite some time. However, was down in the dumps recently, and book buying always cheers me up! Under ordinary circumstances, I would've felt guilty, but for once, I'm okay with it.

Amitav Ghosh's Sea of Poppies : This book was shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2008. I've heard mixed reviews about this book - some people love it, and some people really don't. As 2008 was the year The White Tiger won the Booker, I'm curious to read the entire shortlist. I enjoyed Adiga's debut novel, but didn't think it deserved the Booker, so let's see what the shortlist was like!

JM Coetzee's Life and Times of Michael K : I actually love Coetzee's writing, from the time I read Diary of a Bad Year. This has been on my TBR forever, so I'm glad it's finally made its way to my shelf!

George Orwell's A Clergyman's Daughter : I'm slowly making my way through all the books by George Orwell. I was blown away by Nineteen Eighty-Four, and then wowed by Animal Farm. I've actually not heard much about A Clergyman's Daughter, but the gist sounded interesting enough.

Philippe Chaudel's Brodeck's Report : Loads of people on the blogosphere read this at the start of the year, as part of the Not The TV Book Group group read. It sounds incredible, and I'm hoping it will live up to my expectations.

F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Last Tycoon : I've only read one book by Fitzgerald, and I really want to change that. His writing's so beautiful, and it's so easy to get lost in his books. I'll probably be picking this one up next (once I finish Heliopolis).

John Wyndham's The Chrysalids : It's been quite some time since I've read a post-apocalyptic story! One that features in the 1001 Books To Read Before You Die list is bound to be as good as it gets, right?

Dominique Lapierre and Larry Collins' Is New York Burning : A post 9-11 novel. There's an atomic bomb in the heart of New York City, which will destroy the city unless the President of the United States doesn't force the Israelis to abandon all the land they've occupied since the 1967 war. I'm counting on it reminding me a bit of The West Wing!

Have you read any of these books? Which one would you recommend over all the others?

Muriel Spark - Loitering With Intent

There's a thin line between reality and fiction; they oft' reflect each other very closely, so much so that the line is indiscernible. But - what happens when reality starts imitating fiction? That's the basic premise of Spark's 1981 novel, starring Fleur Talbot: an aspiring writer in London in the 1950s. She's writing her first novel, Warrender Chase, but she needs a job to get by while she finishes it. And so, she takes up the position of the secretary to Sir Quentin Oliver, and his brainchild: The Autobiographical Association.

The Autobiographical Association comprises of a bunch of people who write their memoirs, which are to be published in the future, when anyone and everyone mentioned in the autobiographies are dead. In a manner of speaking, it's almost like a time capsule.

A myriad of entertaining characters are created by Spark, to fill in the roles of the members of the Association - each more warped than the other. Fleur, the narrator, ends up "enriching" their otherwise mundane autobiographies. However, right before her eyes, the scenes from the office start resembling her novel - which she had started before taking the job! What's is Sir Quentin's end goal? And to what lengths is he ready to go to in order to achieve his end goal?

In Fleur, we have a witty likeable narrator, who says it as she sees it.

I always desired books; nearly all of my bills were for books. I possessed one very rare book which I traded for part of my bill with another bookshop, for I wasn’t a bibliophile of any kind; rare books didn’t interest me for their rarity but their content. I borrowed frequently from the public library, but often I would go into a bookshop and in my longing to possess, let us say, the Collected Poems of Arthur Clough and a new Collected Chaucer, I would get into conversation with the bookseller and run up another bill.

She befriends Sir Quentin's mother, Lady Edwina, who is an eccentric character, with a mischievous side. And then there's the despicable Beryl Tims - the apparent love interest of Sir Quentin - who works with him, and finally, Sir Quentin himself - a character who's extremely unlikeable and becomes a shade more repulsive with each turn of the page. It's these characters that carry this work of metafiction, and makes it a fascinating read.

I think I didn't get enough out of the book, by virtue of not knowing much about a couple of authors (Benvenuto Cellini and John Henry Newman) whose works Fleur (and a couple of other characters) refers to at regular intervals (quoting passages as well), setting them as model autobiographies.

I also thought Warrender Chase sounded like a pretty dreadful book (not one I'd like to read, anyway). Maybe in a parallel universe, where novels are actually a byproduct of reality, this book exists, and the "lucid readers" are singing a different tune. If not that, maybe it has a "cult" following. What do I know?

Sarah Waters - Affinity

In a world where twenty-seven year old women are called "spinsters" and they aren't allowed to study further, despite being inclined towards academia, where they still need their mother's permission to carry out certain activities, and where they're bound by society's rules and regulations, this story is about a woman desperately trying to find her place and her footing while her siblings are getting married, having babies and moving ahead. It's also a story about another woman, a spiritualist, who has been imprisoned due to her involvement in an affair which led to the unfortunate demise of one of her clients. She blames it on the spirits who she interacts with, but there isn't any evidence in her favour.

Set in London in the 1870s, this book is about two women: Selina, the prisoner (and spiritualist) and Margaret, the Lady Visitor at the prison who is trying to overcome an "illness."

Early on in the book, Margaret's visit to Millibank Prison are more about meeting Selina (who she's never met before), than the other prisoners. Selina, who communicates with various spirits from the prison cell as well, interacts with Margaret's father who passed away two years previously. As they form a special spiritual bond - a result of loneliness and despondence - they start sharing the details of their past (and their present), which brings them closer together, leading Margaret to believe that Selina is her "affinity."

One sympathises with Margaret, wonders whether Selina is really a spiritualist or not (well, I did - I don't really have believe in spirits being able to interact with humans via various media), and dreads the prison - which essentially could be a character in itself. Dark and gloomy, with endless passages, odours, wards, and extremely strict (almost inhumane) matrons who patrol the wards and punish the prisoners for their crimes.

As I've come to expect with Sarah Waters' novels, there's a breathtaking plot twist, which just leaves the reader gripped to the book, long after they've turned the last page. The book is written in interleaving chapters of the present and the past: the present is Margaret's voice, writing in her diary, and the past is Selina's, presumably writing in her diary as well. Thus, the whole book is presented to us from the eyes of the two protagonists, and one does start seeing things from their points of view. It's easy to relate to them, sympathise with their predicaments, and hope for a "happily ever after" that's only ever seen in fairy tales.

While this book is no Fingersmith (I doubt Waters will be able to re-do that kind of magic), it is still immense in terms of character development and scene setting. It's probably my second favourite book by Waters (although I still have Tipping The Velvet to go). I've read/heard many comments saying Waters is at her best while writing about the Victorian period, and as things stand, I'm bound to agree.

Have you read Affinity? Where do you think it stands amidst Sarah Waters' other novels?

Lorrie Moore - A Gate At The Stairs

A Gate At The Stairs is one of "those" books - beautiful writing, intelligent conversation flowing through the book, a sensitive plot, and a book with great potential. Tassie is a college student in the Mid-western town of Troy, who finds a job as a baby sitter for Sarah, an affluent restaurant-owner who adopts Emmie, a "biracial" child. Sarah is perpetually busy running the upmarket restaurant, and Tassie ends up spending a fair bit of time mothering Emmie.

While there are two other parallel stories (Tassie's "first love" and Tassie's brother contemplating his future at the military), the adoption of the biracial two year old by a white couple was the one that had me glued to the book.

When a boy uses the infamous n-word at Emmie, the babysitter reports it to Sarah, who starts a "group" for parents with non-white children. The group meets every Wednesday, and contemplates what the future holds as well as discusses the present-day situation of the African American race. In a post 9/11 world, racism in midwestern America is still rampant, and the lives of the minority is still under question. The snippets of conversation on Wednesday evenings that Moore penned down had me absolutely boggled. Call me naive, but I don't think much about racism or how a person's caste or skin colour can affect their place in society. In my ideal world, it shouldn't, and maybe because I've not witnessed it first hand, I'm absolutely oblivious. As Martin Luther King once said, "judge not a man by the colour of his skin, but by the content of his character" - but that doesn't really happen, does it?

Yes, I've read a fair bit about slavery and the troubles African Americans face, but, most of those books are from a different age, and in my little head, that time had just gone by. The unfairness of racial abuse towards biracial children literally had me perplexed!

Anyway, I digress. Back to Moore's book.

As one might expect, the plot twist comes from a blast from the past that reminds the many characters that the past does not forget. In my opinion, this was a little excessive as well, and Moore was trying to make the plot more dynamic, more "exciting" - to an extent, she did succeed, but, it just left me feeling perplexed.

The book was an interesting read, but, the last seventy pages just ended up taking a gigantic detour and having a story which didn't really fit in with everything else. Again, maybe it was something that does belong to the post 9/11 world? I don't know - I think the book would have benefitted from either streamlining the story, or avoiding some of it, despite it being emotionally powerful, and relevant in this day and age.

You can't fault the writing style though. It's beautiful, witty, insightful, and although Tassie at times comes across as way too mature for her age, at other times I could relate to her and her college lifestyle. Even Sarah and Edward (Sarah's husband) characters are well-developed, and while I didn't care much for the latter, I did sympathise with Sarah.

Think this book is worth a read, and I'd love to read more of Moore's works, to see if they're as insightful.

Have you read anything by Moore? How do you think her short stories compare to her novel?

Truman Capote - Breakfast At Tiffany's

"Charming" - That's the first word that came to mind when I turned over the last page of this novella. I haven't seen the Audrey Hepburn movie, so I didn't really know much about the plot (maybe I really do live in my own little cocoon) prior to reading the classic. There's Holly Golightly, who gets the star billing, as the writer recounts memories of his glamourous neighbour many years later. Holly Golightly is a young woman, drifting through life in New York in the 1940s: the bars, the martinis, parties, the social scene. A complex character, who's a wonderful combination of being naive and stubbornly independent, she keeps her friends close yet at a distance.

As her past tries to catch up with her, and she unknowingly gets entangled with the Mafia, she contemplates what she wants from life.

I don't want to own anything until I know I've found the place where me and things belong together.  I'm not quite sure where that is just yet.  But I know what it's like.... It's like Tiffany's.... Not that I give a hoot about jewelry.  Diamonds, yes.  But it's tacky to wear diamonds before you're forty...

This was my first foray into the world of Capote as well, and I was blown away by the rich lyrical writing, by the richness of Holly's character, and by some of the cleverly crafted paragraphs. It was a delightful read, and I think the story is going to stay with me for a long time, as will Holly: a character that frustrated me to no end, but I still couldn't help but like her.

David Mitchell - The Thousand Autumns Of Jacob De Zoet

In terms of books being confusing and complex, this one ranks right up there. New characters being introduced every couple of pages, the story taking dramatic turns, changing from showing corruption while trading in the 18th-19th century to a surreal adventure story, and there's a love story thrown in, just for good measure as well. But no - that's not all. In fact, that's simplifying it much.

The book has one of the most graphic opening chapters, where a child is coming into the world, already dead. However, by some miracle, Orito (a midwife) saves the life of the child (and the mother). It's 1799 and the place is Nagasaki. Christianity is banned, most of the women are "wives" or prostitutes, and the locals and foreigners interact with the help of "interpreters," as the Dutch aren't allowed to study the local dialect.

The importance of the birth and the sequence of events it triggers isn't obvious in a first chunk of the book. Instead, we're introduced to the Dutchmen who inhabit the artificial island of Dejima - the corrupt greedy Dutch, working for the Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie (VOC, or Dutch East India Company). Most of them are corrupt, trying best to figure out how to forge the books for their own personal gains, but there's the one employee/clerk who puts honour above all else : Jacob de Zoet.

Things get complicated when he falls in love with Orito, the midwife, and they get even further twisted when she's abducted and sent to the Shrine of Shiranui - where she's set to become a nun at a convent. The Shrine isn't really a convent though, and the Goddess isn't really a Goddess. Think The Handmaid's Tale... with a twist.

And here, we've just finished part one of the book! I don't want to give too much away, but the rest of the book is a whirlwind, with things happening at the blink of an eye: power trips and struggles, love, betrayal, tragedy, courage and a thirst for the truth.

The writing is extraordinary - something I've come to expect from David Mitchell's books (despite reading only the two). The ambience he creates almost seems to transport me back to the eighteenth century Dejima/Nagasaki. Considering most of my historical association with Nagasaki stems from August 9, 1945, this was a pleasant change. Mitchell even gave a nod to the growing friction between the English and the Dutch in their quest for power in Asia, and the extent to which the respective parties would go. Fantastic, as it almost seemed like text book stuff - but so much more gripping.

I enjoyed the book, but not as much as number9dream, nor as much as Cloud Atlas. I thought this book was less "fun," and more "serious" - the experimental style of Mitchell's writing does still exist, but I think, the ambition of this novel lay more in the plot than the surrealism or ambiguity that I've come to associate with his writing. I've still got two unread books by David Mitchell, and I'm curious to see how this would compare with them.

Do you have a favourite book by David Mitchell? What do you think makes the book stand out?

Stieg Larrson - The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets' Nest

This is the third and final book of the Millennium trilogy, and I'm almost annoyed that there will be no more novels of Lisbeth Salander or Mikael Blomkvist on my reading list again. The final book in the trilogy opens with Lisbeth being shot several times in the head, after she attempted to kill her father, Zalachenko, who will be pressing charges. Zalachenko, a KGB defector, has been protected by a secret governmental organisation ever since he entered Sweden. Truths have been concealed, reports fabricated and a web of lies spun over the years, by various people in positions of power, and they are now threatened as to what might be unveiled thanks to the latest developments. Their masterplan is to get Salander committed to an asylum permanently. At the same time, Blomkvist, the irrepressible journalist at Millennium, is trying to figure out what's being covered, by whom and why. It's the classic battle between the good guys and the bad guys, with some necessary sacrifices being made by the "bad guys" - some people being used as pawns, and some being eliminated altogether; and both sides trying to outdo the other.

Most of the action in the book happens in the police/government offices, the hospital where Lisbeth is slowly recuperating, and the newspaper offices. The themes so far prominent in Larrson's books continue: politics and corruption in Sweden, the subjugation of women, the importance of good investigative journalism, and the Big Brother world we live in, where constant surveillance and hacking can get most answers.

A couple of other stories intertwine in the finale as well, making this book a monster of 750 pages (approximately). Some of the details seem unnecessary, and I did spend the first two hundred odd pages just trying to get to grips with the myriad of characters that kept getting introduced. Once I got past that, I just lapped up the rest of the book in no time whatsoever.

This book seems like it would make a good TV series (I'm thinking Alias right about now) - at least one season of a TV series. It's action-packed, things keep happening, and there are a number of cliffhangers. At the very outset, we know who some of the bad guys are, but as the book continues, the counter keeps incrementing. Plus, if one's interested, it does give a view of Swedish politics and its history.

Salander and Blomknist remain the "white" characters in the "black and white" world that this book depicts. Annika, Blomkvist's sister, plays a much bigger part, and she instantly became a favourite. With engaging characters (including the bad guys), and an incredibly well thought out story, I did enjoy this book. It's interesting, but the charm of the book doesn't lie in the ambience that's created, but more in the way things turn around and the characters act.

It's pop-fiction, but it's gripping pop-fiction, so even if you're turned off by seeing this trilogy on bestseller charts and ads everywhere, it's still worth giving it a shot, I think. You might be pleasantly surprised - I was!

Monica Dickens - Mariana

I bought this book back in January, simply because the blurb likened it to I Capture The Castle, and ended up "saving" it for the Persephone Reading Week (hosted by Verity and Claire). I had great expectations from this book (if you may excuse the totally unnecessary pun), not only because of the blurb comparing it to one of my favourite books from last year, but also because the writer is Charles Dickens' great-granddaugher, and I wasn't disappointed. The title of this book is inspired by Tennyson's Mariana:

She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary; I would that I were dead!"

and it's the story of a young girl, Mary, reflecting on her life as a child, teenager and finally, an adult. In the opening chapter itself, Mary hears the news that a British Destroyer has sunk, and the next-of-kin of those departed have been informed. There are some survivors. There's a storm outdoors, the telephone lines are down, and there's nothing she can do in that point in time to find out whether she's going to be the recipient of good news, or bad; whether her dearest has survived or not.

While she restlessly awaits the morning to go into town, she reflects on her life - from the time she was eight years old until now. The idyllic visits to her grandparents' estate in Chabury during the vacations, the stress of school, her hilarious experience at a school for drama, her fantastic year in Paris (being courted by the romantic Pierre) and of course, the "happily ever after" before now.

I don't know what it is about the name "Mary," but the characters are oft' quite contrary (as in the nursery rhyme). The protagonist of the Dickens' novel is no different. She's spoilt, wants her own way most of the time, and her mother normally gives in.

"You're so utterly wrapped up in yourself that you have no interests outside your own egotism. You've obviously been accustomed to having your own way all your life - someone to do this and that for you, to listen to your complaints and pander to your moods -"

Despite that, I found myself rooting for Mary through the book - her naivety coupled with her innocence and idealism make her quite a charming character. There were times she was annoying, and deserved to be put in place, though, and at some points she just seemed very weak-minded and self-pitying. Was it the childhood romance gone wrong? Or, the indulgent Uncle who lived with her and her mother? Or, just a part of growing up, struggling with identity and desiring independence?

The writing is humorous, and the book an easy, "fun" read. It's not like one giant reflection on her life. Instead, it's like numerous continuous flashbacks, with no nod to the present.

I thoroughly enjoyed the book, and half-wish I'd read it when I was still a teenager. While I had no trouble relating to Mary now, I think I'd've loved her much much more when I was sixteen.

Have you read any other Monica Dickens? Would you recommend them?

And how's your Persephone Reading Week coming along?