The Lunar Men – Jenny Uglow

Back to non-fiction.

This is a long and detailed account of a group of friends in the 18^th century that met monthly to discuss “Natural Philosophy”. They included James Watt (steam engine guy), the potter Josaiah Wedgewood and Erasmus Darwin (evolutionary theorist and grandfather of Charles). They have pretty cool names, but I particularly enjoyed the minor roles played by Jabez Hornblower and Jedediah Strutt.

The range of the club’s collaborative activities is extraordinary, covering mineralogy, chemistry, astronomy, botany, industry and so on. The men were fully aware of the exciting nature of the age, when a wealthy man could apply intelligence and curiosity to make discoveries that are still relevant today. It is a shame that there is no real outlet for such inspired dilettantism today.

There is a sense of sadness towards the end of the book as mortality begins to take its toll alongside the turbulent repercussions of the French Revolution, but the overriding feeling is of admiration for these remarkable gentlemen and their manifold achievements.

Cat’s Cradle – Kurt Vonnegut

My second wife had left me on the grounds that I was to pessimistic for an optimist to live with.

This is a classic Vonnegut sentence: funny, understanding of human foibles and somehow profound. I don’t know of any other writer who tackles the Big Questions with such humanity, insight and humour. For a book that deals with Hiroshima and the innate hypocrisy of religious institutions, it had me laughing more than you might imagine. Wonderful stuff.

The Naming of the Dead – Ian Rankin

I suppose it’s pointless to read genre fiction and the moan about the shortcomings of the generic conventions, but in the case of this whodunit…unlikely plotting…characters who speak primarily in unfunny quips.hard-drinking maverick cop…thought processes represented by lines of three dots…

I enjoyed it despite picking the key twist (although not the murderer) about halfway through. The chief interest lay in the setting – Edinburgh during the tumultuous week of the G8 summit, Live8 concert, London’s Olympic win and the July 7 bombings. Although slightly over-researched (“Columbo starts at 2 o’clock” etc) the feel of one of my favourite cities at this strange time was portrayed evocatively and amusingly, particularly the grumpy locals resenting the hullabaloo caused by the visiting dignitaries;

“For what all this is costing you could send every starving child a Jenners hamper”

Theft: A Love Story - Peter Carey

Apparently this is is regarded as largely autobiographical but that surprises me as the central character, a painter called Bones presumably acting as a version of Carey himself, is so profoundly unpleasant. As Bones narrates the majority of the story I found the experience to be somewhat hard going despite the thriller plot and the entertaining depiction of the Sydney and New York art scenes of the 1980s. I think the tone was meant to be bitterly funny but too often lapses into just plain bitter, as when Bones' ex-wife (based on Carey's ex-wife, allegedly) is referred to throughout as "the plaintiff".

Where Carey really excels, as in his superb Ned Kelly novel, is when he gives the narrative to a damaged character, in this case Bones' learning disabled brother. Although these sections are written in more difficult prose, I found them much more palatable.

The Innocence of Father Brown - G.K. Chesterton

This is the first of the collections about Father Brown, the Catholic priest detective who solves crimes in a Holmes-like fashion with less theatre but more theology. Many of the plots make no sense whatsoever, but it would be churlish not to just accept that and get swept along with the simple charm of the tales.

It's always nice to have an Essex man as the hero too.

Orlando – Virginia Woolf

I really admired Sally Potter’s movie of this from a few year’s back, so I was pleased that the book was even better – a rare conjunction indeed.

It’s a faux-biography of a character born in the 1500s who lives until Woolf’s “present day” (about 1927) and changes from a man to a woman halfway through. As such, it’s a fascinating and highly readable precursor to the magical realists, particularly in the way that the miraculous events are barely commented upon and are accepted by narrator and characters alike.

It also reminded me of A.S.Byatt’s Possession, another brilliant interrogation of the impossibility of the biographer’s task.

A great start to 2007.

Books Read In 2006 Is Dead. Long Live Books Read in 2007!

By eerie coincidence or, if you prefer, by sneaking in a couple of short ‘uns at the end, I have read exactly 100 books this year. That’s about 2 a week – not bad. So, by way of marking the occasion, here are my closing thoughts on the year’s reading:

Best Book. No, bugger it, best 12 books – Midnight’s Children, The Swimming-Pool Library, Little Dorrit, Right Ho Jeeves, The Grapes of Wrath, Jane Eyre, London Orbital, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, Monsieur Monde Vanishes, Vile Bodies, A Room With A View, I Married A Communist

Worst Book – The Da Vinci Code

Longest Book – Little Dorrit

Shortest Book – Asterix the Gaul

Non-fiction percentage – 27 (or 29 if you include the Bible ones)

Books featuring Mormons as arch-villains – 3

Australian books – 4, all non-fiction, plus the last couple of Coetzee’s even though he’s a South African

Resolution for 2007 – Read more Aussie fiction

Cheers, thanks for reading. It’s been literary.

Metamorphosis - Franz Kafka

A famous and curious fable about a man whose transformation into a giant cockroach is greeted by a sense of disconcertment by the victim and horror by his parents and sister. I've no idea what Kafka meant this tale to convey, but I saw it as a parable about the fragility of the bond between a man and his family, and by extension society as a whole.

Where Angels Fear To Tread - E.M. Forster

Forster's first published novel; is obviously highly accomplished but can't help but feel like a practice run for the similar but superior A Room With A View. There is lots of good stuff here, including some laugh-out-loud social comedy the sudden death of the main character a third of the way through. The conclusion is a little melodramatic but I don't want to sound over-critical; this is Forster after all.