The Dutch House | Ann Patchett #20BooksofWinter

The rave reviews are the hardest, aren't they?

It took me a few chapters to fall into this story, but when I fell, I really fell! The Dutch House turned out to be one of those wonderful, rich reading experiences that you wish would never end. Part gothic fairy tale and part psychological study of two siblings trying to come to terms with their loss and grief as they did battle with a wicked stepmother. Eventually expelled from their childhood home, they spent their adult lives searching for forgiveness, atonement and a way back home.

The character driven storytelling was absorbing, poignant and immersive. Maeve and her brother, Danny were characters that felt real - flawed but lovable. Their shared obsession with the childhood home helped them to gloss over their other losses. Money and possessions didn't matter; they simply worked hard and made good on their own. No parent? No worries; they had each other. 

But this is Ann Patchett we're talking about here, so there are many more layers to the story than that. Mothers and mothering played a big role as did materialism, greed and poverty. The different ways that kindness and love can be expressed and then experienced were explored. Do we ever really know our loved ones or do we waste a lot of time and energy trying to make them fit into the world view that we already have?

And we cannot talk about The Dutch House without talking about the house itself. As a metaphor for childhood and mother we see Maeve and Danny's mother reject and leave both the house and the children. As a place of shelter and protection, it clearly moved away from being a place of safety and security after the mother left and the stepmother wheedled her way in. 

As a symbol for self and personality, it's easy to see the Dutch House as an ongoing search by Maeve and Danny for a way back in, for integration. Their sense of being outsiders, abandoned and alone affected all their relationships. The weight of the grudge they carried around almost became another character, like the house. Spending so much time in the car together, looking at the house from outside, facilitated a kind of therapy session for both of them. Although I was in a constant panic that the stepmother would discover them and that things would turn ugly, but that could just be my fear of conflict!

It's curious that a book that seems designed to discuss mothers and mothering is narrated by Danny. In fact, for the first few chapters, I assumed that Danny was a sister, not a brother. He acknowledged that 'after our mother left, Maeve took up the job on my behalf but no one did the same for her'. Maeve considered herself lucky simply because she'd had many more years with their mother than he did. At every point Danny benefited from all the women in his life who took care and made sacrifices for him, but when their mother finally turned up again and Maeve forgave her and immediately moved to recreate a relationship with her, Danny was pissed off that he's been displaced. I accepted that he didn't want to forgive or let his mother back into his life, but I did resent that he wanted to deny Maeve the chance to decide for herself, when it was so obvious that Maeve was dying to feel mothered again.

But maybe that was one of Patchett's points. It's okay for fathers and men to be distant and absent, we can admire them for their ambition and worldly ways, but when a mother does it, she is lambasted and denied forgiveness or understanding.

Maeve and Danny were not the only siblings in this story. We also had Jocelyn and Sandy, the women who helped run Dutch House before and after the mother left, until they were also expelled along with Maeve and Danny. The wicked stepmother arrived with two children of her own, Bright and Norma. None of these characters were fully fleshed out for the reader as we only ever got to really see them through Danny's eyes. He didn't even realise that Jocelyn and Sandy were sisters until he was about 11 yrs old. He simply accepted them, unquestioningly, as part of the fabric of his young life, as most children do. 

I'm glad that Patchett never gave as any insight into why the stepmother was the way she was. She obviously had her own demons to behave the way she did throughout the story, but those demons remain part of the mystery. All we know is that her parenting style also completely alienated Norma and Bright. Bright didn't even return when her mother was ill and dying.

Patchett was inspired by something Zadie Smith said about writing autobiographical fiction, 

She was saying that autobiographical fiction didn’t have to be about what happened — it could be about what you were afraid might happen. She said the character of the mother in Swing Time was autobiographical because that was the mother she didn’t want to be. I thought that was brilliant. It explained something I’d always been doing but had never put into words. I adore Zadie Smith. At that moment, sitting on a stage with her at Belmont University, I thought, I want to write a book about the kind of stepmother I don’t want to be.

Our book group had a great discussion about all the elements in the story and it was one of the few books where everyone agreed on how much we loved it. A number of them had even read the book twice, saying they got so much more out of the story second time round as they were able to tease out some of the nuances even more.

The Dutch House is a keeper. 

I think this is my first 5 star rating for the year.

Favourite Quotes:

But we overlay the present onto the past. We look back through the lens of what we know now, so we’re not seeing it as the people we were, we’re seeing it as the people we are, and that means the past has been radically altered.

There are a few times in life when you leap up and the past that you'd been standing on falls away behind you, and the future you mean to land on is not yet in place, and for a moment you're suspended knowing nothing and no one, not even yourself.

We had made a fetish out of our misfortune, fallen in love with it.

Norma said that childhood wasn’t something she could imagine inflicting on another person, especially not a person she loved.

Facts:

• Finalist for the 2020 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.
• Longlisted for the Women's Prize 2020

Cover Love

• I agree with Ann, this is one of the best covers for a book ever. 
• You can listen to how this came about in this short video.
• It's not often that an author gets to have so much control over what ends up on the cover.
• It's not often that the same cover gets used for the US, UK and Australian editions of a book either.

Book 3 of 20 Books of Summer Winter - I'm a little behind schedule this year!

Mothering Sunday by Graham Swift

OMG!

How have I not read anything by Graham Swift before?

(Assuming that is, that the writing abilities he displayed so gloriously in Mothering Sunday are also evident in his previous works.)

This is the best book I've read this year so far. Hands down. No contest.

Every single word was perfectly placed and felt like exactly the right choice for that sentence, that moment, that character.

The first half was beautifully sensual, languid and full of youthful abandon. Yet the shadows of the great war hang heavy.

Swift plays with time, starting the story with "once upon a time" and constantly shifting between now - the perfect day - to reflections of earlier days and big jumps forward into a future made different because of this perfect day. It could be disconcerting, but I found it breathtaking.

The writing has a circular, pacy feel. You're racing through and onwards and going around at the same time. Ideas of sliding doors and possibilities and chance tease you at ever turn. What if? becomes the central theme.

The final section turns more inward looking as our characters discuss the nature of truth and story and memory. We see the power of the mind to carry us away with alternate versions of our stories.

You are left pondering all the stories we tell ourselves about our own lives - all the fictions and possibilities that we run through in our mind that seep into our realities, that inform our decisions and choices even though they are merely figments of our imaginations.

If I hadn't finished this book at 1:30 in the morning, I would have turned it over and started it again straight away.

I cannot remember the last time a book had such a powerful effect on me.

Some readers may not enjoy the rather English class conscious writing style and some may be put off by the slim book/same price as a chunkster thing, but for me this book has been one of the most fulfilling, satisfying, enriching stories I've read in a long time.

A great English writer at the height of his creative powers will always be a joy to behold.

This slim volume packed a punch with every single word in a way that many of the current stock of chunskers fail to maintain for their entire wordy length.

Mothering Sunday also provided plenty of books in book action.

Jane was a reader and many books informed her later opinions and stories - the main ones being Treasure Island, Kidnapped and Youth by Conrad.

A note about the cover.
The Australian hardback edition comes with a stunning slip cover featuring a detail of Modigliani's Reclining Nude (red nude) (1917-18). It seems fitting that this painting that is a homage to sex, should grace the covers of this story. It captures the post-coital mood of the first half of the book perfectly.

1/20

Radioactive: Marie and Pierre Curie - A Tale of Love and Fallout by Lauren Redniss

I first heard about Radioactive during Non-Fiction November last year. It sounded delicious and exactly my cup of tea, so I put my order in at work straight away.

For my Yr 12 HSC (many, many moons ago) Science Depth Study I chose to learn about Marie Curie.
In those pre-computer, pre-internet days, I had to rely on my local library and my science teacher to source the information I needed.

I devoured impossibly obtuse science texts and difficult, dry biographies. I became obsessed despite of, or maybe because of, the Herculean nature of my undertaking.

But it wasn't the science that grabbed my attention so decidedly.

It was the fact that Marie Curie was the first woman to win a Nobel prize for science and then the first person - male or female - to win it twice. It was rejoicing in a woman tackling a 'man's job' and doing it well - very, very well. It was the romantic working partnership with Pierre. It was the generational love of science they fostered in their daughters and grandchildren as they all followed in their scientific footsteps. It was the complicated, ethically fraught philosophy of discovery, patents, shared knowledge and how to use this new science - for good or for bad.
And it was also the frustration of hindsight. Watching Marie and Pierre work day in, day out with no protection around radioactive substances, knowing what we know now, how they were in fact, hastening their own deaths.

When Radioactive turned up in the new year I was thrilled to see the oversized, colourful, textured cover peeking out of the eco-bubbles. I was instantly transported back to my 17 yr old self - the enthusiasm I had for learning and knowledge, the belief that I could do anything and the birth of one of my many obsessions that has lasted a lifetime.

If not for Katie's Reluctant Romantic challenge to read outside my usual genres to find a new love, Radioactive may have lingered on my TBR pile, like so many other wonderful books *sigh* despite my obsession with the topic.

However Radioactive does not fit neatly into the graphic non-fiction definition. In fact, it doesn't fit neatly into any known genre! Redniss does not use the comic strip format, but her art work is an integral part of the story and she created her own font for the text.

It is non-fiction - part biography, part scientific treatise, part philosophical discussion.
And it is beautiful.

Redniss uses a process called cyanotype printing to create these images, which she describes in the notes at the back of the book. She also uses photography, drawings and maps.

I guess it doesn't matter, in the end, what genre this is (unless you're trying to shelve it in a library or book store!)

All you really need to know is that this book is bloody brilliant.
It satisfied everything my 17 (and my 47) yr old self could ever want from this topic. It was knowledge, it was beautiful and it touched my heart. It also left me craving more.

If you know of any other books that treats history, biography, science and philosophy like this one, please let me know. I want more!

This is my new genre to love!
Whatever it is.

Stories & Shout Outs #7

During my recent summer holidays I kept thinking about all those wonderful books I had read before I started blogging (in 2009).

All those glorious, wonderful reads that remain un-reviewed by moi!

I'd love to bring these gems to light but so many of them are just faint memories of a time gone by. They are little more than a warm feeling, a fond regard or a happy glow.

I hope to reread them all one day - those 5-star books that have taken up permanent residence in my heart.

The danger, of course, is that they wont remain 5-star reads. That they were books that spoke to me at a certain time in my life but are no longer significant or relevant.

A few 5-star books have already stood the test of time and several pre-blog rereads including:

Cloudstreet by Tim Winton
The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank
Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton
A Room With a View by E.M. Forster
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery
The Dark Palace by Frank Moorhouse

These 5-star pre-blog reads are on my TBRR (to be reread) wishlist:

Dr Zhivago by Boris Pasternak
Middlemarch by George Eliot
A Passage to India by E.M. Forster
The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins
Moonstone by Wilkie Collins
David Copperfield by Charles Dickens
A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth (this book is up there as one of my all-time favourite books. I still think about the characters and wonder what they're all up to.)
Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood
Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels
A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
Centennial by James Michener (this one may be pure fancy. I watched the TV series as a tweenie, then decided to read the book at age 13. It was my first proper adult read. I adored it, and it will always hold a place in my heart for being the first :-)

Remember this?

Have you ruined the memory a much loved book by rereading it?

***********************************************

As some of you already know, I'm eagerly awaiting February (not just because it's my birthday month!) but because of the Little Women/Good Wives readalong being hosted by Suey, Jenni and Kami.

Lisa @TBR313 has been helping me to get in the mood with this fascinating post about The Selected Letters of Louisa May Alcott.

Brian @Babbling Books also reminded me why I love A Room With A View so much.

Happy Reading!

The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo

Have you read Edward Tulane?

Yes? Then how can I possibly review it without spoiling it for someone who hasn't read it?

No? Go and read it now. Yes, now! I'll wait for you to come back........

Now aren't you glad I made you go and read it?

Like you, I had been meaning to read it for years. In fact ever since I read my first DiCamillo back in 2008.

Since then one of my colleagues has fallen in love with Edward. She has spent the better part of the past two years asking me if I've read it yet.

It took a guilt-fueled freezing cold Saturday evening to get me there.
Guilty because I realised that I had put this title on my autumnal reading list in March...a reading list that only had one title ticked off it...and only one week left to run on it. I decided I had time to at least knock over the kid's fiction!
(The freezing cold part is self explanatory - as we all know (even those of us who loathe winter with a passion) that there's nothing nicer than curling up under a warm blanket with a great book when "it's cold out there" - can you name that movie?)

When it comes to crying in books and movies I'm a pretty tough cookie. I can read about death and dying with nary a tear. But give me a hard won happy ending or a bittersweet twist and I'm a blubbering mess.
Actually, no.
I don't think I've ever blubbered.

I've probably missed out on loads of valuable life experiences by not blubbering ever.
Being stoical has it's good points, it's strong points, but it can give people the very misleading idea that you are unfeeling or cold. Or not capable of loving...like poor old Edward.

Although Edward's love problems didn't stem from stoicism but from egotism instead.

As for his journey?

Wow. Poor Edward really had to learn his lessons the hard way. It was miraculous that he survived at all.
His happy-against-all-odds ending would melt the hardest heart and warm the cockles of the most gentle soul you know.

As a child who feared being lost, I'm not sure how well I would have coped with this story. I either would have pushed it to one side in disgust (really fear) or I would have read it obsessively, picking away at my fear like a scab on my knee.

And that's the beauty of DiCamillo's writing. She gets right into the heart of a very real childhood fear and she shows you how to survive it, to live with it, to give into it, to outgrow it and to finally overcome it.

If you haven't read it, make sure you pick up an illustrated copy. Bagram Ibatoulline's illustrations are delightful and a perfect match for the mood and tone of the writing.

Germinal by Émile Zola

I cannot thank Fanda @Classiclit and O @Behold the Stars enough for introducing me to the wonderful world of Zola.

Last year I read Nana for Fanda's Zoladdiction month with great enjoyment...and anticipation...for my next Zola.

This year I wanted to read Zola's most famous and most well-regarded novel, Germinal.

It is the 13th book (chronologically) in the 20 volume Les Rougon-Macquart series. Although Zola, himself added a recommended reading order in his last book, Doctor Pascal, in which he placed Germinal in 16th position. (Nana was the 9th book published, but Zola placed it at 17th on his reading order.)


I'm not sure where to start with my love and praise for Germinal though. (My 'initial thoughts' post can be found here).

Germinal was a big, epic, heart-wrenching read, full of the daily drama's of a mining community in 18th century France.The attention to detail and intimate knowledge was extraordinary - in fact, my edition included 20 pages of Zola's Notes on the Mines at Anzin, which revealed just how much research Zola did before writing Germinal.

This personal knowledge gave the book a tangible, visceral quality especially in Zola's descriptions of the miner's work. I felt every sharp edge, every constricted passage and every airless chamber. I felt their exhaustion and their helplessness to change their situation in life.

The true genius though, is that Zola also made it possible for you to feel a similar level of empathy for the bourgeois characters. Not completely, but enough to see how the bourgeois upbringing affected the way they viewed the world and the worker's conditions.

It took the disaster at the end of the book for both sides to see, fleetingly, each other's humanity.

One of Zola's literary devices that I really enjoyed was his personification of the mines:

the monster swallowing down its daily ration of human flesh, the cages emerging, then plunging downward again, engulfing thier loads of men without stopping, gulping them down like a voracious giant.

The mines became another character to become attached to - so much so that I found myself deeply affected by one of the mine's demise towards the end.

Germinal's ending is quite beautiful and hopeful, which I believe is unusual for Zola. He brought the story full circle with his 'germinating' symbolism & Étienne's walk.

I also adored my translation by Raymond N. MacKenzie. He brought Zola's language to life. I was delighted that I had taken the time to research which translation worked best for me before purchasing & reading. I will be using the Compare Literary Translations site again.

Thank you to Fanda for hosting Zoladdiction again this year. I'm excited about next year's Zola already!

The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro

I've managed to get to this point without reading any reviews for The Buried Giant. Therefore, when I began reading it last week I had no idea what it was about or what to expect.

There is something very thrilling & even a little daunting about opening a new book by such a well-known, well-regarded author that includes a leap into the great unknown. It's an act of reader faith.
Where will this story take me? Will I like it? What will I discover along the way?

A part of me wants to say nothing at all about The Buried Giant so that you have the pure, unadulterated pleasure of discovering this bittersweet tale about memory and love all by yourself, like I did. But that would make for a very brief & rather pointless review!

If you've read this far, I have to assume you want to know whether this book is for you or not.

I've only read two Ishiguro novels before this.

The Remains of the Day, which I thought was an exquisite story of yearning, restraint & repression and Never Let Me Go, which I failed to get into at all.

The first book is set in post war upstairs/downstairs England while NLMG has a futuristic dystopian setting. TROTD follows an aging butler come to terms with the decisions and choices he's made in life around duty, honour & class. While the latter is a boarding school romp with some creepy cloning issues!

Where could Ishiguro possibly go after that?

Shall I tell you?

Alright.

Go back.
Waaaaay back!

Back to post-Arthurian England. Back to a Dark Ages world of Saxons and Britons. Back to a time steeped in mythology & legend where she-dragons, ogres, pixies and curious memory-sapping mists prevail.

Axl & Beatrice are a couple to take into your heart forever.

Ishiguro's language is careful, gentle and deliberately paced to slow your reading down. Each sentence is savoured, each emotion rolls off the page as the subtle tension builds.
What will their missing memories reveal?

'It would be the saddest thing to me , princess. To walk separately from you, when the ground will let us go as we always did.'

The Buried Giants won't be for everyone, but if you're prepared to go along for the journey, you will be well rewarded.

Testament of Youth by Vera Brittain

Reading Vera Brittain's memoir about her years as a VAD nurse during WW1 was a far more intense and bittersweet experience than I first anticipated.

I have tried to write this review several times this week but I've struggled to find the right tone.

Testament of Youth is a sombre book and my attempted reviews so far have reflected this. But unlike Brittain I have been unable to claim the tags, "sad but beautifully written", or "heartbreaking yet eloquent"!

This is a story full of beauty and ugliness. It is deeply personal yet restrained. It is insightful, intellectual writing encased in emotional honesty.
It's a slow, compelling read, with a lot to absorb.

Testament of Youth was also part of my Reading England challenge.

Although Vera's adult years were spent between Oxford and London (as well as nursing overseas), her teenage years were in Buxton. And it was in Buxton that she first met Roland....

Buxton is near Manchester in the spa district of Derbyshire. Built on the River Wye with a geothermal spa nearby, it was made famous by the patronage of the Darwin's & Wedgewood's.

Vera's father worked in a local pottery mill. Her feelings about Buxton were of a love/hate kind.

"but in those years when the beautiful heather-covered hills surrounding Buxton represented for me the walls of a prison." pg 38

"Buxton, which my father used to describe as 'a little box of social strife lying in the bottom of a basin,' must have had a population of about twelve thousand apart from the visitors who came to take the waters." pg 38

Buxton Pump Room 1890-1900

It was in Buxton that Vera and her family sat out the wait to see if the world was going to war or not. 

"Later, on my way home, I found the Pavilion Gardens deserted, and a depressed and very much diminished band playing lugubriously to rows of empty chairs." pg 75

"It was the last Christmas we spent together as a family, and the unspoken but haunting consciousness in all our minds that perhaps it might be, somewhat subdued the pride with which we displayed him to our acquaintances in the Pavilion Gardens." pg 89

Buxton Pavilion 1910

Buxton & surrounds also witnessed the early scenes of Vera & Roland's romance.

"After tea we walked steeply uphill along the wide road which leads over lonely, undulating moors through Whaley Bridge....This was 'the long white road' of Roland's poems, where nearly a year before we had walked between 'the grey hills and the heather', and the plover had cried in the awakening warmth of the spring. There was no plover there that afternoon; heavy snow had fallen, and a rough blizzard drove sleet and rain into our faces." pg 104

Whaley Bridge

From Buxton, Vera watched the young men marching off to war, feeling more & more frustrated at her own lack of activity and purpose.

"...the mobilisation order on the door of the Town Hall; I joined the excited little group round the Post Office to watch a number of local worthies who had suddenly donned their Territorial uniforms..." pg 75

Buxton WW1

"In the early morning we walked to the station beneath a dazzling sun, but the platform from which his train went out was dark and very cold....I watched the train wind out of the station and swing round the curve until there was nothing left but the snowy distance, and the sun shining harshly on the bright, empty rails." pg 106

Brittain describes the constraints and provincialism of small town life to a tee. While she could appreciate the natural beauty of the area, it was never going to be enough to hold someone who was so fiercely determined to live an intellectual, independent, active life.

There is so much more to say about this book as it discusses feminism, academia, the League of Nations & politics. Brittain comments on the values of peace, duty, despair, resilience, remembrance & honour. I could go on & on & on....but the best thing for all of us is for you to simply read this exatrordinary story yourself!

I highly recommend Testament of Youth for lovers of great memoirs. This is one you wont forget in a hurry.

Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout

I've read so many varied reviews of Olive Kitteridge over the years, that I knew that this was probably going to be a 'love it or hate it' kind of book.

Given my enjoyment of Strout's The Burgess Boys, I was expecting to love it.

Here was another story with all my favourite themes - belonging, yearning vs reality, hope vs reality, desire vs reality, truth and lies.

But in all the reviews I've read, no-one had ever told me that Olive Kitteridge could basically be read as a collection of short stories!

Each chapter is a snapshot in time for the people of Crosby, Maine.

Some of the chapters focus specifically on Olive or her husband, Henry.

But the bulk of the chapters follow the other inhabitants of small town Crosby as they go about their daily lives.
These lives intersect with Olive & Henry in various ways. They provide multiple viewpoints and assessments of Olive's character. Many of these views are not very positive.

And it is easy to see why.

Olive is one of those frustrating characters who has very little awareness of how her behaviour & words impact on others. She is completely bewildered by the loss of friends and the alienation of her only son. The only person who patiently stands by her side, constantly seeing the best in her, is gentle, loyal, optimistic Henry.

Olive Kitteridge is a force to be reckoned with. We all know a version of Olive.
Strout's genius is making Olive such a sympathetic, understandable character.

The writing is sublime, the pacing is subtle and the characterisations are observant & elegant. It's a simply told story full of the complexities & nuances of human nature.

I loved it.

(Olive also fulfills about 5 reading challenges for me.)

The Railwayman's Wife by Ashley Hay

This is my kind of fiction.

The Railwayman's Wife is heart-achingly sweet.

Hay has created an emotional world that is absorbing and very tangible. She see-saws between loss & grief and love & hope. Her writing is tender & lyrical and full of the wonder & healing power of nature.

I devoured this book in two days. I could barely put it down.

Anikka Lachlan's world of post WW2 Thirroul became one of my parallel universes of existence. The first night, I hugged Mr Books close as Anikka's grief engulfed me.

Whilst driving to soccer yesterday, I was really walking along Thirroul beach with Ani and Isabel.

At half time, I read another chapter. With the first sentence I was back inside Hay's emotional bubble. The hard, cold stadium seating, the cool, autumnal wind and the smell of teen spirit disappeared completely.

At a dinner party last night, I kept feeling Ani's presence beside me. And I woke this morning aching to be with Ani, with fingers crossed for happy endings.

I love books that take me on an emotional journey. A journey that feels authentic - without histrionics, extravagance or manipulation. A gentle journey of the interior of a gentle, sensitive woman.

The Railwayman's Wife is a beautifully nuanced & bittersweet journey that has left me wanting more story by Hay. For me, it doesn't get any better than this.

Image of Hay at Thirroul courtesy of the Sydney Morning Herald.

The Railwayman's Wife has been longlisted for this years Miles Franklin and shortlisted for the NSW Premier's Literary Awards.

Breaking News: The Railwayman's Wife has won the People's Choice Award at this years NSW Premier's Literary Awards night. 

I'm delighted!

Midnight's Children by Salmon Rushdie

This week's Friday Flashback (hosted by Lisa at Bookshelf Fantasies) is one of my all-time favourite past Booker winners (1981).

It was my first attempt to read anything by Salmon Rushdie.

It was also one of those books that evoked a sense of place so strongly that I still feel myself back there simply by talking about it.
But by back there, I don't just mean India.

I mean Perth, Margaret River and Denmark in southern WA!

Midnight's Children was the book I took on my 2 week holiday to Perth in 1999. I was visiting a dear school friend and her family at the time. I was able to use her home as a base from which I went on a few day trips and extended excursions.

For me, Midnight's Children became this strange parallel universe that I travelled through in my mind even as my eyes took in the incredible sights and sounds of WA for the first time.

I remember certain B&B's, cafe's, bushwalks and even a boat trip in Denmark that have become intricately enmeshed with scenes and characters from the book.

I was enthralled, mesmerised even by Rushdie's writing. I loved the mix of historical fiction and fantasy. I adored his discussion on time, history, truth & memory.

“I fell victim to the temptation of every autobiographer, to the illusion that since the past exists only in one's memories and the words which strive vainly to encapsulate them, it is possible to create past events simply by saying they occurred.” 

I made notes, jotted down quotes and my travel journal became a weird mix of travelogue and book review.

“What's real and what's true aren't necessarily the same.” 

Midnight's Children began a personal phase of reading all things India that lasted quite a few years & included lots of memorable books like A Passage to India, The God of Small Things, A Suitable Boy, Interpreter of Maladies, Fasting, Feasting & Journey to Ithaca just to name a few!

“Reality is a question of perspective; the further you get from the past, the more concrete and plausible it seems - but as you approach the present, it inevitably seems more and more incredible.” 

Midnight's Children was also the joint 1981 winner of the James Tate Black Memorial Award. 

To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee

I have read To Kill A Mockingbird several times.

Like many people my first reading of TKAM was in highschool, and like many, it was a life changing moment.
It was one of my first 'big' classics. By the time I got to the end of the book I remember thinking, "this is it! When people talk about great literature - this - is - what - they - mean!"

I felt my brain stretch and grow to accommodate this story.
My love of history had already given me a basic understanding of the time and place; Lee's story gave it a face and personality.

It was the first time the written word made me swoon with delight. I loved the dry humour, I loved Scout's voice and I loved the cleverly constructed story.

My last rereading was roughly 15 years ago. The story still felt so fresh in my mind that I was surprised by so much passing time.

I was also a little concerned that I might feel let down with this rereading. My memory had TKAM on such a high pedestal that I wasn't sure if it could live up to it. I needn't have worried.

My next surprise was the beginning.

I thought it started with Jem and Scout meeting Dill for the first time. And that the entire story was written in Scout's young voice.

But, of course, the first few pages are devoted to tracing the Finch family history from some future speaking adult Scout.

And the entire first part is about establishing the setting, the tone and the characters. It doesn't launch straight into the courtroom drama that everyone remembers.

I think this is where some of the clever plot construction comes into play. All the little vignettes Lee describes gradually build up the picture so that we (& Scout to a lesser degree) not only accept, but understand what happens in part two.

We see how the community leaves "best alone" in Boo Radley's case, how Atticus is powerless to help Scout when she starts school (and how the school is powerless to help the likes of the Ewells and the Cunninghams). We see how all the various classes and castes of Maycomb county fit together (or not). We feel the power of the church and the confines of county traditions. We thrill to Atticus' heroic killing of a rabid dog and feel grateful when the community fight together to put out the fire in Miss Maudie's house.

Lee delicately highlights the good and bad of Maycomb county. She gives us a chance to walk around inside the skin of this community.

We are now well prepared for the events of book two.

I've included a few snaps of part one from my gorgeous Folio Edition copy of TKAM.

It is illustrated by Aafke Brouwer. I love the creepy edge that Brouwer has given many of the illustrations, especially the walking dead picture to highlight Jem's early description of Boo Radley.

This post is part of the TKAM readalong hosted by Adam at Roof Beam Reader.

Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel

From what I have read, we know a lot about Thomas Cromwell's deeds but not a lot about his motivations, feelings or thoughts.

But this is what Hilary Mantel gives us with Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies.

Mantel gives Cromwell flesh, heart and thoughts. Via these two novels we see Cromwell's desires, his disappointments and doubts. We gain insights into his childhood and his family life. We feel empathy for his losses and fears. Mantel's intimate portrayal of Cromwell shows us a man full of contradictions.

Mantel helps us to understand how it might have been to live under the reign of Henry and how events might have evolved into the facts that we know. We see personalities clash amd listen in on key conversations.
Mantel gives cause and effect a voice. She shows us the consequences of betrayal, lies and outrage.

Changing loyalties, personal safety, fear, loneliness, revenge all have their roles. Through Cromwell's eyes we see the dangers of the Tudor court, a King declining into despotism, not afraid to kill to get his way. And what the people around him have to do to keep their heads and the peace!

Such big themes rich in drama and complexity.

How extraordinary to feel love and sympathy for a man reviled in the history books.

Bring Up the Bodies is a wonderous read.

I can't wait for the final instalment.

Book Beginnings on Fridays

Although it is strictly speaking, no longer Friday where I live, I figure it is Friday still somewhere in the world!

Book Beginnings on Fridays is hosted by Rose City Reader.

This week I am reading 'Bring Up the Bodies' by Hilary Mantel.

The opening lines (after several pages of cast of characters and family trees) are...

"His children are falling from the sky. He watches from horseback, acres of England stretching behind him; they drop, gilt-winged, each with a blood-filled gaze. Grace Cromwell hovers in thin air. She is silent when she takes her prey, silent as she glides to his fist. But the sounds she makes then, the rustle of feathers and the creak, the sigh and riffle of pinion, the small cluck-cluck from her throat, these are sounds of recognition, intimate, daughterly, almost disapproving. Her breast is gore-streaked and flesh clings to her claws.

Later, Henry will say, 'Your girls flew well today.' The hawk Anne Cromwell bounces on the glove of Rafe Sadler, who rides by the king in easy conversation. They are tired; the sun is declining, and they ride back to Wolf Hall with the reins slack on the necks of their mounts."

Strictly speaking this is a little more than the opening lines!

Bring Up the Bodies is the sequel to Wolf Hall. Wolf Hall finishes as the King and Cromwell ride off to stay with the Seymour family at Wolf Hall for the first time.

I had heard that Bring Up the Bodies was going to be more about Anne Boleyn and Mary, so the opening lines confused me.

Was it a dream sequence? Was Cromwell remembering the deaths of his daughters and his wife from his own death-bed?

Birds? Of course, the cover has a bird of prey on it!

He named his birds of prey after his wife and daughters? Really??

Whats going on?

Ohhhh, they're out hunting....with the King...OMG!! They're still at Wolf Hall!!

This book picks up exactly where Wolf Hall finished - how delightful. I haven't missed a moment - not one single moment '- how wonderful - ahhhhhhhhhhhh  (sigh of relief and pleasure and anticipation.)

The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey

How does one do justice to a small book about snails and illness?

I can already hear the many yawns from here. And I can see your fingers hovering over the mouse ready to click and move on.

But please dont.

Stay a while, slow down and take a moment to reflect on those smaller and less fortunate than us.

Bailey was struck down 20 years ago by a mysterious, life-threatening illness. She has been bed-ridden for long stretches of time, completely immobile and therefore cut off from the world.

In such a situation I defy anyone to not become overwhelmed by futility.
However a chance arrival in her bedroom changed Bailey's life. A visitor brought her a pot of violets from the nearby forest...and a snail.

During the night, Bailey was disturbed by an unusual sound. She could hear the snail eating.
"The tiny, intimate sound of the snail's eating gave me a distinct feeling of companionship and shared space." (chapter 2)

So begins a beautiful tale of co-existence and understanding.

Bailey uses examples from poetry, literature and science to bring forth the nature of her snail. Each little nugget is revealed with care and circumspection. Watching her snail, Bailey comes to terms with her own illness.

"If life mattered to the snail and the snail mattered to me, it meant something in my life mattered, so I kept on." (chapter 20)

This is a book that deserves to be read slowly, with pleasure.

The Beginner's Goodbye by Anne Tyler

I finished this book a couple of days ago and I've been avoiding writing a blog about it ever since. I'm struggling to find the right words to tell you how I feel about this book without sounding trite.

I could say I loved this book from start to finish.

I could tell you how complete and satisfying this book was for me.

But none of the above does justice to the elegance and emotional truth that Tyler uses to describe the relationship between Aaron and his dead wife, Dorothy.

I've always enjoyed Tyler's gentle writing style, but some of her previous books have been a little hit and miss for me in the emotional department.

Not so, The Beginner's Goodbye. The idea of a widowed spouse trying to come to terms with grief and loss and unfinished business affected me deeply.

Perhaps it is simply best to say that I was moved beyond words.

This is a book to savour slowly.

Release date: April 2012 Chatto & Windus

A Book of Sighs

The Hare with the Amber Eyes by Edmund De Waal is one of those magnificent stories that made me sigh at every turn.

I sighed with pleasure; I sighed with sorrow; I sighed with delight; I sighed with horror; I sighed with anticipation and I sighed with satisfaction.

I hugged this book to my chest. I sniffed the pages. I caressed the cover and poured over the photos and illustrations.
The Hare with the Amber Eyes was a full body experience!

The Ephrussi family were an amazing group of people.

Hard-working, well educated, socially connected. They embraced the times they lived in wholeheartedly - they mixed with artists, poets and politicians. They were collectors of books, art, furniture and property. They lived through some of the most extraordinary periods of history in some of the most extraordinary cities of the world.

De Waal's device of following the trail of the netsuke through the generations was a lovely way to provide this story with a structure and a purpose. 
However this is not just another ramble through a family history. This is an extraordinary tale of family, love and loss.
*sigh*

Wonder by R J Palacio

I was a little wary about approaching this book. Another book about a child with special needs told from their perspective? Do we really need this?
In the case of August the answer is a resounding - YES!

August's story is compelling from the word go. He was born with a rare facial disfigurement. He spent his childhood undergoing painful surgeries and treatments. He was home schooled by his mother throughout this period, but at age 10, his family decide that Auggie is ready to go to a regular school.

This is the story of his first year at school.

We see it though his eyes, then his sister, followed by a couple of the kids at school, the sister's friend & boyfriend and finally back to August. The different perspectives is an effective device for this story - so much of the emotional tension in this book is about how people react when they first see Auggie.

Wonder is an inspiring, heart-warming story about friendship, being true to yourself, kindness and the power of a good teacher to create positive changes.

The sad thing for all of you is that Wonder is not released in Australia by Random House until March 2012. The good thing is that there are plenty of other incredible books out there to read right now - just see below for some examples!

Wonderstruck by Brian Selznick

OMG! I'm breathless.

I would hate to over-sell this book to you, for fear that you will open this wonderful, magical, poignant book with expectations set too high and therefore feel disappointed.

My wish for you is to feel the way I do right now...like I've just finished reading the perfect book.

From page one I was drawn into the two stories that gently unfold in Selznick's book Wonderstruck.
One story is told with words and is set in 1977. The second story is set in 1927 and told entirely via Selznick's trademark black and white line drawings.

The third story is the one that happens as the two stories begin to come together...in a heart-felt moment that reduced me to tears.

I'm not going to tell you any more because I want you to discover this gem of storytelling for yourself.

But if you would like to hear Brian talk about his inspiration for Wonderstuck click here.

Wonderstruck is published by Scholastic and is due in stores on the 1st Oct in a beautiful hardback edition.

And if you haven't seen the trailers for Hugo Cabret yet click here.

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness

Patrick Ness' Chaos Walking Trilogy was on my list of "bad books". To show it wasn't anything personal (just an inexplicable dislike of talking animal stories) I decided to tackle his latest book.

A Monster Calls came to Ness upon the death of writer Siobhan Dowd. According to Ness' author note at the front of the book, Dowd had "outlined the characters, a detailed premise and a beginning." He didn't feel that he could write a novel in her voice, but the idea grew and evolved until it felt like he had "been handed a baton".

The result?

An incredible, atmospheric, dark fairytale of a story. Complete with creepy, eerie etchings by Jim Kay.

I loved it.

As mentioned in the previous post, this is a modern day fable exploring grief and the search for truth.

Conor has a lot to deal with - at home and at school. He is haunted by nightmares and bullies. Until his nightmare becomes real and he is forced to face his demons head-on.

Ness, with the guiding spirit of Dowd behind him, creates a masterful story.
I devoured this book, I shuddered, I poured over the illustrations and I ooh-ed and aah-ed with satisfaction.

This story will haunt you in the way all powerful fairytales creep under your skin and slip into your dreams.

Keep me away from talking animals, but talking trees are okay!

http://www.patrickness.com/