thatdifficultfirstnovel

Cheers guys. Moved onto 'Vernon God Little' by DBC Pierre.

Here is my current attempt to read and review all the Booker Prize Winners over the next few years. I started with the book from the year I was born, 'The Old Devils' by Kingsley Amis. The theoretical idea is that I'm going to try and do all by 2019, as that would be the 50 year anniversary. Might collate them and stick them up on Kindle or something. Anyway, check it out. Booker Prize Winner 1986 Kingsley Amis ‘The Old Devils’ It has often been posited that there is nothing for definite in life outside of death and taxes. With the former on the horizon, what do we choose to place value in? Is it the days that end before lunchtime, that ebb and flow of retirement allowing you the freedom to do what you want, when you want it? Is it a few stiff halves, chased down with a few fingers of whiskey, each and every day? Is it the friends you’ve known for years, with their foibles, challenges and secrets? In ‘The Old Devils’ by Kingsley Amis, Amis blends all three of these together into a novel that is laden with the sense of missed opportunities and the wiling away of the hours until time catches up with us. ‘Professional Welshman’ Alun is returning home after years in England making a career out of his work on Brydan, a poet said to be representative of Dylan Thomas. With his return, and more importantly, that of his wife Rhiannon, feathers are ruffled, beers are drunk and Wales is explored in a darkly comic story that celebrates women and Wales, whilst also wistfully looking back on the decisions of unknowing youth. Many aspects of ‘The Old Devils’ can be viewed as stages of Amis’ life himself. The philandering Alun, who doesn’t take long to jump into bed with Sophie and Gwen, Rhiannon’s friends, most closely resembles Amis’ dalliances with the opposite gender. Charlie’s fear of the dark, or more accurately, being alone, seems to mirror that of an aging Amis, who would end up living with his first wife,and her husband in his later years. During a time following his second divorce, it cannot be considered by chance that his own returns to Swansea didn’t impact upon the overarching narrative of the story. With the clear parallels between Amis and especially Alun, it would be worrying if the narrative turned into a way to validate or excuse the behaviours of the author through his presentation of a character. Thankfully, this never feels like it is the case. The third person narration allows us to see Alun through the eyes of others, and rarely does he seem to be anything other than a bit of a blustering old fool, even if several women in the novel can’t help themselves but jump into bed with him the first chance they get. His capaciousness towards and interest in alcohol soaks the book, though it is explored as a coping mechanism for a life that is passing us by, rather than celebrated in any way. Outside of drinking, it often feels that the characters have little in common outside of their interconnected love lives and the fact that they used to be, so are now. Yet there are hints of genuine feeling, especially in the treatment of Dorothy by the other women in the group, who is tolerated even though she is often half cut and incredibly boring to boot. The Alun and Rhiannon relationship forms the spine of the story, though Malcolm’s latent desires for her initially frame the narrative as we expect his narrative to play out. However, it is Peter, a man who had let himself go over the years following a dalliance with Rhiannon (leading to an abortion), who draws the sympathy of the reader, especially as the lack of marital tenderness in his relationship with Muriel becomes apparent. Amis’ portrayal of them as a couple initially presents a marriage that has lost its spark, but understand how their coupling is beneficial to both of them. This contrasts with Muriel’s derisory treatment of Peter whenever they are together after this, which is rare as if to symbolise the growing distance between the two. Though Muriel could be viewed as a particularly unflattering presentation of a woman, with her callous and unfeeling nature, ‘The Old Devils’ does seem to try and celebrate women, even when multiple females fall to the sleazy charms of Alun. Rhiannon in particular is beautifully represented - Amis apparently based this character of his first wife - with an acceptance of the extra-curricular activities of Alun arguably her biggest flaw. Yet she draws attention from Alun, Peter and Malcolm, love smattered with lingering feelings from an unrequited youth. That she could embolden such emotions speaks to her generosity of spirit and her casual elegance. Alun’s desire to produce a piece of writing of a similar enduring quality as that of Brydan accentuates this feeling of time being fleeting; it is clear that he desires to be remembered for his own masterpiece rather than his odes to another poet. The tension caused between Alun’s own personal view of his work and the damning feedback from his friend Charlie is one of the funnier moments of the story, especially when Alun debates internally whether to get rid of the offending manuscript or not. Unsurprisingly, the pages that have flowed from his fingertips are not destroyed so easily. Indeed, it is this inability to communicate effectively that drives the narrative forwards. People holding onto emotions that blossomed many years earlier; relationships falling apart yet hanging on for dear life; affairs sensed, yet not admitted to. The decision of some characters to finally play their hands and open up about their internal musings allows for some closure, though secrets still lie just below the surface, as is the case with most friendship groups. Relationships that have been built and developed over fifty years are not easily altered or dissipated. Drinks, women, friendship, loyalty; all are important themes within the story, yet it is at its heart a celebration of Wales first and foremost. Outside of the descriptions of cities, villages and the landscapes of South Wales, the fear of a homogenisation of culture that has already begun to sand the rougher edges of Welsh culture permeates throughout the novel. Provincial charm is already giving way to the grasp of big business and globalisation. Whilst looking at these concerns thirty years later, they seem overblown for the time when compared to the realities of modern existence, but the seed has been planted for change; a change Amis and his characters don’t seem to relish. ‘The Old Devils’ would be a high point for Amis on a descent into ill health and eventual death. He would pass away from cancer just under ten years after the book was published. If the book is to be seen as a somewhat allegorical novel that explores Amis’ regrets over choices he made at specific times in his life, it would be hoped that the writing of this story went some way to allaying some of those concerns. If not, at least he did better than Alun, and delivered a classic that will provoke a chuckle in years to come - when human nature is explored so adroitly, it will never age. A personal response: ‘The Old Devils’ would beat competition from numerous books, including Margaret Atwood’s ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’. I would not have envied the jury who had to decide which book was better, especially due to the thematics of the books being so different. Still, Atwood’s ‘...Tale’ deserves recognition as not only one of the best books in 1986, but a stunning read even today. Poetic, yet brutal throughout.

Persepolis is a very good graphic novel. I've always heard very good things about Maus also. Kirkman's work on Invincible is also very enjoyable.

The Chaos Walking trilogy and The Monster Calls by Patrick Ness are worth a read.

I'm surprised that Eye of the World has so many. I just assumed that was the whole series count.

I might as well throw my hat in the ring on this one: BFG - Roald Dahl Brave New World - Aldous Huxley 1984 - George Orwell A Sense of an Ending - Julian Barnes Norwegian Wood - Haruki Murakami Life of Pi - Yann Martel The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4 - Sue Townsend Platform - Michel Houellebecq A Clash of Kings - George R.R. Martin A nod to various books that have entranced me for one reason or another over the years. A non-fiction version: Seabiscuit - Lauren Hillenbrand The Dirt - Tommy Lee/Motley Crue Being Mortal - Atul Gawande Do No Harm - Henry Marsh A Life Too Short: The Tragedy of Robert Enke -Ronald Reng Have a Nice Day! - Mick Foley How I Escaped My Certain Fate - Stewart Lee Freakonomics - Steven D Levitt American Caesars - Nigel Hamilton Moneyball - Michael Lewis

Ah, so does it cover the whole series, not just book one?

A Brief History of Seven Killings won. I've heard good things about that from several different places already.

I've read the first book. I liked it, though it took a while for me to really get going. Have the 2nd, and randomly, the 7th. Am interested in checking out the show when it arrives on UK screens.

I'm at a weird quandry - I'm trying to complete my reading challenge, and they are just slightly too long for me to read. Probably won't be until 2016 I'm thinking.

I have all of his Lost Fleet stuff, but have read nothing!

Just wondering if anyone has read any of his stuff? A lot of his stuff ends up on the Kindle sales, and I'd heard good things about his Lost Fleet series. At the moment, the Autumn sale includes the whole of his Beyond The Fleet and some other series he wrote, so a lot of his stuff is going cheap.

You need a quick win. When I had this issue, I read 'The Uncommon Reader' by Alan Bennett. Doesn't fit the genres you listed, but was finished in an hour and gave me a sense of momentum that I was struggling to find.

Booker Prize #2 - 'A Spool of Blue Thread' by Anne Tyler As with anything I get really into, I like to read around about it as much as I can. Thus, even when the hobby itself is reading, I like to read about reading almost as much as digesting the books themselves. Usually, that takes the form of reviews, and the first thing I did once I finished 'A Spool of Blue Thread' was look at what other people thought about it. I was surprised. There couldn't have been a more polar opposite response to a book than what I saw in front of me. I guess that is what the best literature is want to do - separate people into groups of people who loathe it and people who love it. For your information, I would fall squarely in the camp of people who loved it, and I don't tend to read these types of social/family relationship type novels. It was outside my comfort zone, but there was something...pleasant...about reading the story and following the trials and tribulations of the Whitshanks across four generations. Rather than follow a linear narrative, we hop around between the youth of the grandparents (later on in the novel) and the big family gatherings around an aging couple (where we begin the story). We see the arguments between siblings, between parents and the black sheep of the family and with extended family, whilst we never get a sense that the family don't at least try to do what they generally consider to be the best for the good of the family. Most of the complaints about the story seemed to be that the story went nowhere. Without wanting to go into too much detail so as not to spoil the story, there are moments that do shock and surprise, but I'll admit that there isn't one big 'ahah' moment, one big swerve or one big twist to have you furrowing your brow and mulling over it for days afterwards. Whilst this seems to be a deal breaker for some people who read the book, I couldn't care less when the writing is as fluent and beautiful as that which Tyler commits to the page. She presents a family in the way that is recognisable to anyone who is the creation of a big family environment; the back-biting, the squabbling, the politics, but most importantly, the love. The structure of the novel does go a long way to assisting the narrative in my opinion. As we get to see the two grandparents suffering through the perils of old age, with all that entails, we get a snapshot of their own parents and the difficult courtship that they went through. This makes the reader feel that we get a true glimpse of what it took to create the characters that we have begun to fall for, warts and all, making them feel even more valuable for their unlikely existence. People may complain that the story doesn't really move along at a cracking pace whilst offering twists and turns galore. I'm okay with that. The book meanders, and I was happy to meander along with it. It felt familiar, yet biting, comfortable, yet confrontational. Everything a good book should be, and more.

I've read number 2 - not sure if I'll review it due to my current project - first review of which is below. Booker Prize #1 - 'Satin Island' by Tom McCarthy Since the only way I now seem to get joy out of my reading is to somehow challenge myself to exceed any normal understanding of what 'reading for pleasure' might mean, I decided when the Booker Prize shortlist was announced that I would try my best to read all six books before the winner was declared. This way, I could completely hitch my wagon to the wrong horse and look like a schmuck when the book I hated the most wins inevitably. As I'm also fighting a battle to read a set amount of books during the year (a challenge that is increasing in difficulty as the year goes by), I decided to read the smallest books first. Thus, if I gave up, I could at least have made progress in one area of my reading challenges. Huzzah! This meant the first book was 'Satin Island' by Tom McCarthy. With my reading for this challenge being Kindle-based, I know that this book took me around three hours to read - by the end of it, I wondered a little as to why I bothered. That is not to suggest that the book is bad. McCarthy clearly has some talent when it comes to non-sequitur flights of fancy and stream-of-concious-esque narrative development...it just left me fairly cold. I spoke before about my lack of a desire to necessarily analyse deeper meanings within my reading for fear of completely getting the wrong end of the stick, but in this instance, I just don't really get what McCarthy is trying to suggest or say. The story concerns a man called 'U', who works for a company who seem to be seeking the ultimate truth about the world, the one big anthropological theory or formula that creates the mechanisms of the world we live in. Unfortunately for him, U has been tasked with this job. It feels almost as if it placed in near future rather than the present day, as our narrator tangles with ethical, moral and narrative dilemmas about stories as disparate as an oil spill and the death of a parachutist. In the intervening moments of the book, he sleeps with a woman several times whilst seemingly yo-yoing on the relative value of the current task he has been set. There are allusions to many different authors and many different stories - admittedly, many I had not realised until I looked up a review of the book. This is where I perhaps see my problem. Whilst I'd never necessarily suggest a book is 'too intelligent' for me, I do feel that there is a lot more going on underneath the surface that may have just passed me by in my reading of the novel. Maybe if I was closer to some of the writers that McCarthy feels the need to echo (Delilo, Pynchon, Kafka and others), I might have got more out of the book. I also feel that I don't care much for the main character. If a lot of the narrative is based on his musings and machinations, it becomes difficult to feel much for him when you don't particularly like him. Some of this negativity is encapsulated within the relationship he carries on with his lady friend, a relationship with a woman who plays little more than a sexual function within the character's life. Towards the end, we begin to see more of her, but his dismissive treatment of that aspect of his life is just another reason why it is hard to care about the character in the bigger scheme of things. I don't have to like all my characters, but this style of narrative begs for your empathy with at least part of his situation - something that I never really felt. WIth that being said, I feel that Tom McCarthy, and specifically 'Satin Island', will be many peoples' idea of their new favourite writer and new favourite book. Unfortunately, not for me. If anything, it feels like the type of books that gives ammunition to those who feel the Booker Prize doesn't really represent the best, rather just the most left field, options across the span of a year.