Wrapped Up In Books

My musings on what I've read since January 2006.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

The Floating Brothel - Sian Rees

This history book combines an old interest of mine with a comparatively new one - late 18th century London and the early history of Sydney. It details the journey of a group of women from Newgate gaol to the new outpost of New South Wales.

The crimes for which the women are transported were often pitifully minor and the journey sounds horrific, although apparently conditions on the Lady Julian were far better than convicts endured on many other ships. The story is well-told and cracks along nicely, although due to gaps in the historical record the individual women do not quite leap off the page as they could. It was refreshing to have a history book that focused on women at all, though.

(Incidentally, my copy was also poorly edited and had idiosyncratic footnotes. It felt like a proof copy but there was no evidence that it was the case. Weird.)

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Riders of the Purple Sage - Zane Grey

Years ago, I read a short fantasy story called Spiders of the Purple Mage - at the time I didn't get the pun on this, probably the best-known western novel by the best-known genre novelist. I decided that I'd read this in the spirit of trying anything once except incest and country dancing.

Sadly, the book is a bit of a trial. The plot is surprisingly complex, revolving around a woman's fight to free herself from evil Mormons, but for an adventure story it is very wordy and the character motivations are baffling. I understand that it's important to the history of western literature and films, but otherwise I wouldn't bother.

I liked this bit though:

Jane slipped her hands down to the swinging gun-sheaths, and when she had locked her hands around the huge, cold handles of the guns, she trembled with a chilling ripple all over her body.

Hmm...

Monday, November 20, 2006

The Eye – Georges Bataille (aka Lord Auch)

(Spelling errors in order to avoid spaham filtrzz)

I have a real problem with erratic literature. I love literature and I’ve nothing against pawn, but combining the two never seems to work, and The Eye is a classic example of the problem. I think socks is essentially a silly act and the attempt to intellectualise it results in a very silly book, for example:

“…the Milky Way, that strange breach of astral zpurm and heavenly urine across the cranial vault formed by the ring of constellations..”

And so on. There is also a constant theme of the erratic possibilities of eggs, urine and violent death. Does this sound right to you? Maybe I’m the weird one.

Decline and Fall – Evelyn Waugh

Here’s another marvellously bitter satire from My Favourite Author (For This Week Anyhow).

At times this reads like something from Wodehouse, but the reader feels fond of Jeeves and Wooster whereas nearly all of the characters in Decline and Fall are contemptible in one way or another. The author’s attitude is made clear in the way that characters are killed, mutilated or suffer other horrific fates, all described in an off-hand, comedic tone.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens

I was made to put up the Christmas tree at work in October (gripe), so mid-November seemed like a not unreasonable time to read this.

You know all about this one, so I won’t add much. It’s short, it’s funnier than you would think, it’s hopelessly sentimental and it’s pretty well irresistible.

The Conformist – Alberto Moravia

A classic study of the fascist mind, I stumbled across this in a random fashion but I would be interested to read more from the same author. It tells of a man whose experiences in childhood and peculiarly strong desire to be “normal” culminate in his becoming a secret service operative in 1930s Italy. The mood is intense and oppressive, and the detachment of the central character reminded me of The Outsider.

I could’ve done without the epilogue which introduces a pointless and unlikely plot twist and a rather severe ending.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Apocalypse Movies – Kim Newman

The End of the World has always been a popular theme for movies and Newman displays a breathtaking range of knowledge on the subject from the cheapest B-movie to the grandest blockbuster, and including a vast array of non-English language cinema. Despite a slight tendency to overdo the lists, the book is engaging and interesting. I’d be interested in a new edition that might cover post-9/11 apocalypse movies such as the excellent Children of Men.

The Silent Traveller in Oxford – Chiang Yee

I read the Silent Traveller in London earlier this year and was charmed. It seems that Chiang’s house in London was bombed during WWII, and this book chronicles his time as an academic at Oxford during the war itself. He writes gracefully about flora, fauna and local people, and a real sense of compassion comes from his incredibly restrained asides about the ongoing conflict.

(The library copy of this was donated from the estate of the late Miss Thelma Herring. Thelma Herring!)

Vile Bodies – Evelyn Waugh

I’ve always wanted to read more Waugh, and this is listed in a number of “Best Books Ever” lists, so it seemed an obvious choice.

It’s a funny novel, merciless in its satire of the complacent upper classes. Characters commit suicide, vast amounts of money exchange hands, love affairs fall apart with barely a murmur from “society”. The real kick, though, comes with a bleak and savage denouement that provides a genuine shock.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Words and Music, A History of Pop in the Shape of a City - Paul Morley

On the one hand this is an exasperating and pretentious load of old twaddle. Morley looks at the history of pop by writing a fantasy about Kylie Minogue driving a cybercar to a virtual city and meeting John Cage....oh God, I can't go on. This twaddle takes up most of the book and much of the rest is taken up by pointless lists. As for the omissions, his lists tend to run from Debussy to Cage to Eno to Aphex Twin, thereby missing any music that can be said to have originated with Leadbelly, Cole Porter, Gershwin, Hank Williams or whatever.

It's maddening stuff to read, but there are glimpses of brilliance when he slags off The Strokes or Simon & Garfunkel, or eulogises Kraftwerk. Unfortunately, the good bits just make the majority of the book that much more annoying.