Books do furnish a room

A Harlot's Progress by David Dabydeen David Dabydeen is a Guyanese novelist who is not as well known as he should be. He is a fellow of the Royal Society of Literature (the second West Indian writer to be a member; the first being V S Naipaul) and has won numerous awards for his poetry and novels. He is currently the Guyanese ambassador to China. This novel takes its starting point from Hogarth’s series of portraits named A Harlot’s Progress (1732). In the second print there is a black slave boy and Dabydeen takes the slave boy and weaves a novel around him and some of the other characters. This is a retelling of the story of slavery and a telling of the black boy’s (named Mungo) tales. Dabydeen takes all the tropes and received wisdom and subverts and retells them; making some powerful points on the way. The tale is told by Mungo as an old man to a Mr Pringle, an abolitionist who is looking for a sensational story to help with the abolitionist cause. In terms of time the series of paintings by Hogarth was in 1732 when Mungo was about 16. He is telling his tale in the 1780s or 90s. Mungo doesn’t want his story to be appropriated by the white abolitionists so he tells and retells it in a seemingly contradictory way using myth, legend and tribal tradition. The contradictions all relate to the time in Africa before he was captured and transported to Britain. As Mungo sails in the slaver his tale seems to become clearer and more traditional in nature until he reaches Britain when it becomes a westernised narrative. Mungo tells stories about his childhood in Africa, about his village; Mungo appears to be the only one who survived the capture and the voyage. He tells stories of his mother, father, the women who cared for him, the villagers (each with their own role). The stories appear contradictory and have a strong mystical/magic realist element. The notion of what is true almost becomes irrelevant as Mungo seems to become a repository for all the tribe’s stories. Mungo survives the voyage because he becomes a favourite of the captain; a sexual favourite. Although he is beaten, raped and branded he is better off than his peers who are below deck and subjected to awful conditions and treatment; the descriptions are vivid and powerful. The deceased villagers come back to Mungo to give him advice, tell him stories and try to ensure they are not forgotten; their voices are unique and magical. Manu dies trying to swim back to Africa; now when he comes back and speaks to Mungo, “Instead of words, fish tumble out, gorgeous and bizarre and dreadful in shape and hue”. The narrative describes the voyage to Britain, followed by a period of time being looked after by Betty, who was preparing him for sale. His relationship with Betty was unpredictable as her behaviour was shaped by her own particular guilt. Mungo is bought by Lord Montague for his wife; where he is treated as a pet by her, but mistreated by the servants who resent him. He escapes from a difficult situation (with various bits of finery) and goes to assist a Jewish quack doctor who is treating a group of prostitutes; here introducing the prostitute portrayed by Hogarth. The narrative voice varies between first and third person and there is a tension between told and untold; what is told depends on the motivation of the telling. Mr Pringle and Thistlewood the sea captain are actually part fictional, part real. Mungo knows what Pringle wants to hear so he has to edit Thisltewood’s paedophile leanings and Gideon the Jew’s humanity as these were not what he wanted to hear. There are many interesting byways to explore; at various times Mungo is renamed; Noah and Perseus; both names redolent with meaning. Dabydeen also draws an interesting comparison between white and black women when talking about Lady Montague “she is a woman like my mother, like Rima and all the others, who are sent away from view by the order of men”. There is no romantic interpretation of sexuality, but more Blake’s tension of pain and love, violation and adoration. It is a post-modern retelling, reconstruction/deconstruction and Dabydeen has done an excellent job of posing questions in new and telling ways. A thought-provoking novel that is well worth looking up. 9 out of 10 Starting The Public Image by Muriel Spark

The Lonely Londoners by Sam Selvon I’m reading a biography of V S Naipaul at the moment and reading about his Caribbean Voices period reminded me of this book, which I’ve been meaning to read for some time. Like Naipaul, Selvon was from Trinidad and was trying to make a living as a writer in Britain in the 1950s. This is a record of the Windrush generation who came to Britain to work after the Second World War; their trials and tribulations, searching for work, trying to make ends meet (the section about the pigeons and seagulls is hilarious), finding somewhere to live, dealing with racism, living and loving. The novel switches between characters with a central narrative voice and uses the slang of the time. There are some remarkable passages and some telling descriptions of relations between communities and the sense of being alien. It is a series of snapshots written in an almost stream of consciousness way. It describes the disillusionment and broken dreams with a sharp humour. The descriptions of the English summer are very good. The attitudes to white women were illuminating and troubling; black women were almost invisible (apart from the wonderful Tanty). There is a great rhythm and musicality to this book and even when times are hard and life is struggle, there is a sense of optimism. It is a window into another world and for me could have been longer. It is a novel of great warmth and heart and it opens a window onto pivotal time in London’s history. Highly recommended. 8 and a half out of 10 Starting The Catcher in the Rye

The Night Life of the Gods by Thorne Smith I must admit, I knew very little about Thorne Smith before I picked this one up as a second hand penguin book. It is an oddity and Thorne Smith is much better known in America. He wrote semi-science fiction/fantasy novels. His best known creation is Topper, a much more well-known novel and a ghost story. Smith is a comic novelist, and has been compared to P G Wodehouse. This offering is set in and around New York. It concerns Hunter Hawk a middle aged and eccentric inventor. He is plagued by his sister, brother-in-law and nephew who disapprove of him, but likes his niece. He invents a small portable device that can turn living things into stone and vice versa. After some fun with his family he meets a leprechaun and his daughter. He strikes up a relationship with the daughter (a mere 900 years old). They journey to New York with Hunter’s niece and her boyfriend after some unfortunate incidents at a party. In a museum Hunter has the bright idea of bringing to life some statues of Greek gods. He chooses Diana, Hebe, Venus, Bacchus, Mercury, Neptune, Perseus and Apollo. A series of adventures follows which mainly involve lots of alcohol, fighting, sex (not explicit), fish and casual shoplifting and pickpocketing. A series of what might be described as high jinks follows. This isn’t P G Wodehouse and isn’t really that funny. The plot has enough holes to steer a supertanker through. It’s formulaic and some good ideas are badly used. I think my 13/14 year old self may have enjoyed this more. It is essentially farce and comic book and very much of its time. 5 and a half out of 10 Starting A Month in the Country by J L Carr

Not to be read close to meal time Bobbly!! Minaret by Leila Aboulela This is a simple and clearly written story which takes a different look at the tensions within Islam, between men and women and life as an immigrant. Najwa is born into a high-ranking family in Sudan; she is a Muslim, but a secular one which consists mostly of good works. Her father is a business man who is closely connected to the regime. Najwa is studying to go to university and her life is westernised and privileged. She meets Anwar, also studying, but he is radical and left wing. He teases her about her family and connections. Then there is a coup and Najwa, her brother and mother flee to Britain; her father is arrested and hung. Over time Najwa’s life disintegrates; her mother dies, her brother is imprisoned for drug related offences. She meets Anwar again and they have a relationship, but she discovers his view of it is very different to hers and she is left humiliated. This takes the story from the mid 80s to the early 90s. The narrative jumps between the mid 2000s and earlier so the plot is not revealed in a linear way. Najwa becomes increasingly religious and over time takes work as a maid to wealthy Middle Eastern families and starts to wear the hijab. Najwa works for one particular family as a maid/childminder and becomes involved in some of the complex relationships within the household. What I found most interesting was the behind the scenes in the women’s side of the mosque, which provided insight in the community of women, which was gentle and supportive. This was in contrast to the men’s side; which although we don’t see it, we sense the different atmosphere and the tensions and much more competitive and aggressive form of religion. This has a particular effect on Tamar, the young man in the household Najwa works for. The usual assumptions that a westernised approach to life is always better and that Islam is fundamentally problematic are challenged. The growth of Najwa as a character is interesting as is her interactions with the other characters. Essentially, apart from being a story of personal change and adaption to circumstance Aboulela reminds us that the issue of extremism is more of an issue in the community of men, rather than in the community of women. It is also a window into a hidden life in the women’s section of the mosque which is communal, supportive and often centred around children. It was a refreshing perspective, a well put together novel, which adds a great deal to the general debate about the interface of religion, culture and politics which continues in all mixed societies. 8 out of 10 Starting The Road Home by Rose Tremain

The Passion According to G.H. by Clarice Lispector How to review this! Much more introspective than The Hour of the Star. G.H. means genero humano; basically human kind; otherwise we don’t know her name. She is reflecting on something that happened the day before. The premise is fairly simple G.H. is well to do; lives in a penthouse and has a maid who has just left. She decides to clean the maids room which she expects to be cluttered. The room however is clean apart from some drawings on the wall; a man, a woman and a dog. There is also a wardrobe with the door slightly ajar. Out of the door is emerging a cockroach; G.H. slams the door and splits the body of the cockroach. The white innards begin to ooze out. G.H. has what might be termed an existential crisis and seeing the white matter, she perceives this as a type of elemental matter and puts it in her mouth. That’s the plot. This is a description of a crisis of being; most of us have them at some point. Lispector dissects it and lays it out before the reader. The structure is neat; the last sentence of the chapter is the first sentence of the next chapter. I saw some parallels with the Kafka story Metamorphosis, although the protagonist does not become the cockroach but she does take its essence into her. I saw more parallels with Camus’ Myth of Sisyphus; the absurdity of the revolt of the flesh. But also the religious imagery gives a Catholic backdrop as well. It feels a little like the accounts of medieval mystics who have been locked away in their cells for way too long with too little food and social contact. Except it is in a modern setting and is more immediate. The metaphors and allusions can be reworked in a number of ways; I’ve seen the penthouse room described as a minaret above the desert and the wardrobe as a sarcophagus (New York Times) ; but the Brazilian jungle is never far away. Although the religious imagery is present and especially that of the mass and ingesting the body of Christ; I found no sense of transcendence. Plenty of immanence and so I think the spirituality here is probably secular. It was an interesting journey and it made me think in the same way I had to when I first encountered existentialism. I didn’t enjoy it as much as The Hour of the Star because for me it did not have the same power. For me the introspection has little use in and of itself; unless it leads to some other connection, but it’s great stuff and will need to be re-read. 8 and a half out of 10 Starting Sam Selvon The Lonely Londoners

Under the Volcano by Malcolm Lowry This is an influential book; Bolano opens The Savage Detectives with an epigraph from it. Under the Volcano isn’t just a book about a drunk and a record of his drunken ramblings. Our protagonist, the British Consul, Geoffrey Firmin is not a classic hero in the Hemingway mould; craggy and square-jawed. Nor is he drowning his sorrows. His primary relationship is not with Yvonne, his estranged wife, but with alcohol. There are oceans of allusions and references here; the book is packed with them. The Faust myth was there in abundance with references to Goethe and Marlowe. The fall from grace myth also takes us to Paradise Lost. Dante’s Inferno is the backdrop to some of the more hellish descriptions. However the allusions that interest me relate to John Bunyan, I was brought up with Bunyan; “Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners” has an epigraph and it has been pointed out that Under the Volcano is a sort of Pilgrims Progress in reverse; although there is a redemptive theme. There are equivalent companions related to those who journeyed with Pilgrim at various points. That’s a line I would like to consider if I re-read; particularly the feeling of being enmeshed/tangled. The numbers are also important; the novel takes place on the Day of the Dead one year apart; there are 12 chapters; signifying 12 hours and 12 months. Books have been written about all this and many academic essays produced. It seemed to me that disintegration was one of the underlying themes; the world is beginning to disintegrate. It is 1938 and the world is almost at war. The alcoholic disintegration is also well written; Lowry had some experience of this! Alcoholics who drink long enough and hard enough develop a type of dementia (known as Korsakoff’s syndrome) and some of Firmin’s experiences feel a little like this and his conversation reminds me a little of people I meet with this condition (in structure rather than content). There are also contradictions here; redemption and loss, ascent and descent, identity and annihilation; I could go on. The atmosphere and heat you can cut and it exudes noir film of the 30s and 40s. If I live long enough to read this again I think I will read it with Bunyan to pick up more of the crossovers. 8 and a half out of 10 Starting A Harlot's Progress by David Dabydeen

The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst Booker prize winner in 2004, Hollinghurst writes about the 1980s and more particularly about Thatcher’s Britain and the onset of HIV/AIDS. It is the story of Nick Guest, a young gay man from a middle class background. He meets the son (Toby) of a rising Tory MP (Gerald Fedden) at Oxford and after graduating moves in with Toby’s family as a lodger. The backdrop is London of the 1980s. Nick moves in glamorous circles and the line of beauty goes back to Hogarth’s s shaped curve in his book. It runs through the book via Henry James, (Nick is studying him at post-grad level) to cocaine; another beautiful line in the book and on to the concept of beauty in physical terms. For Nick this is male beauty. Against the glamour and the wealth is a political backdrop of the conservatives in power. The shadow of Thatcher is never far away as Gerald works hard to ingratiate himself and gain political power. Nick’s sexuality is also to the fore as we follow him through two relationships; with Leo who is black and working class and Wani who is very rich and Lebanese. The spectre of AIDS gradually grows as the book goes on, although it does not really affect the Fedden’s and their political circles, nor the sections of the upper class they mix with. It’s all beautifully written and Hollinghurst captures an aspect of the culture of the time very well. Nick is an amiable narrator who seems to drift through the book without being too greatly affected by it all. Inevitably comparisons have been made with other works. I can see the similarities to Brideshead Revisited, less so to Maurice. The more obvious comparison is to Powell’s Dance to the Music of Time series, but it doesn’t have the scope and depth Powell gave to his series. There was, for me, hollowness at the centre. Nick is amiable, but for me his character is summed up by an incident near the end of the book. He goes into a bar and sees someone he had a relationship with earlier in the book. This someone is gaunt, very ill, and dying of an AIDS related illness. Nick avoids him and manages to leave without being seen. He manages to drift through the lives of the Fedden’s and their circle with few moral qualms. I do remember the 80s; I was living in the north of England, mostly in working class and mining areas; the Tories and Thatcher were the enemy. It was difficult to engage with any of the characters, apart from Leo; but it does capture a place and time. 6 and a half out of 10 Starting Minaret by Leila Aboulela

The Poorhouse Fair by John Updike I keep persisting with Updike; it’s the triumph of hope over experience I suppose. This is his first novel, written in 1957 and set in 1977. Thankfully it was better than the last one I read; Memories of the Ford Administration. I am reminded of a quote from Harold Brodkey’s autobiographical work about his death from AIDS; “Living with AIDS is like being a character stuck in a bad John Updike novel”. This is a rather brief novel set in an almshouse and it takes place in one day; the day of the annual fair. It’s a half-hearted attempt at Modernism with a touch of dystopia. The Poorhouse is basically a residential care home for older people who are whiling away their remaining days. As is usual with Updike the female characters are rather limited and not very well drawn. There are two strong characters; Hook is a man in his 90s who has a strong sense of his own wisdom and a feeling that modern life is going to hell in a handcart. The main redeeming character in the book is Connor the manager of the home. He is a young man with a mission, a sense of what is right and wrong. He has that particular malice that only those who have the zeal to do good to others no matter whether they like it or not can have. His attempts to relate to the residents inject some humour into the proceedings as events spiral out of his control. There is a sense of anarchy in the older men and making Connor a rational humanist was a clever move. However I didn’t feel Updike really understood or have control of the older characters and what was actually a rather good premise didn’t quite work. The minor characters are not strong enough to carry the points Updike is trying to make. For once I think this novel was too short; it needed more character development to carry the storyline. However the thought of asking for a longer Updike novel worries me! It’s brief and worth reading for a couple of the characters, but lacks the real punch it could have had. 6 out of 10 Starting The Night Life of the Gods by Thorne Smith

The Skating Rink by Roberto Bolano I think I’m rather on the fence about this one; Bolano’s first novel. It is a mix of genres; a touch of murder mystery, which is entirely secondary to the plot. Throw in obsession, political corruption, immigration, poets, a seaside resort on the Costa Brava, a homeless opera singer, an Olympic skater, a ruined mansion, the influence of Borges, a secret skating rink, a love triangle and lots of individual oddities. The novel is set in a Costa Brava town over a summer season and the narrative is told alternately by three men; a Mexican poet, who is an illegal immigrant and works as a night watchman at a camp site; a civil servant who embezzles public money to build the skating rink for Nuria Marti, a beautiful skater who has been dropped from the Olympic team and needs somewhere to practice; and a Chilean writer who runs a group of jewellery shops. Working out who the victim will be is fun; working out the murderer much more difficult and unimportant. There are some stunning descriptive passages, but also some oddity and a few passages that, for me, didn’t work. One of the issues I had was that the narrative voices were a little alike and tended to merge into each other. However it is a minor point and the word play is very good; the sky appears like “a lung dipped in blue paint” before going pink “like an enlightened butcher”. It’s a good read, quirky and off the wall; a little slight with the narrators too alike, but colourful and interesting. 7 out of 10 Starting Ragged Banners by Ethel Mannin

Thanks weave and poppy I’ve had The Recognitions on my horizon for some time. Now finally I have read it! This is not a book that you can pick up and casually read; it demands work of the reader. However erudite or well read you are you will not get all the references because they are so varied. There are sites available which provide annotated notes so you can follow the references and I would recommend one of these as you can get more out of the whole experience. Gaddis quotes Shakespeare a good deal; there is also a lot of T S Eliot, especially the Four Quartets and The Wasteland. On reflection it is more difficult to list things that are not included! As there is a religious theme running through the book knowledge of the Early Christian Fathers and varieties of theology (not to mention the cult of Mithras) is a necessity (hence the need for a guide). Gaddis also makes reference to a great deal of early twentieth century popular American culture (songs and popular novels). Goethe’s Faust is a backdrop and starting point and the relationship between Wyatt and Recktall Brown is fascinating. The Faust legend goes back to Clementine literature, supposedly written by an early Pope called Clement. Part of this literature is the Clementine Recognitions (hence the title) and here is found the story of Faustus. There are myriads of other references and it is a complex and enthralling work. The story itself is fairly simple; Wyatt means to follow his father into the Christian ministry, but takes to art and forgery for a dealer called Recktall Brown. He becomes disillusioned, his father becomes attracted to Mithras and goes mad and there is a supporting cast of many interesting characters who revolve around Wyatt and his doings. Most of the story is set in New York around Christmas. As stories go it is ok and would rattle along nicely in a 200 page novel. There is humour; the suit of armour, counterfeit money (forgery and what is real figures a lot) and there is tragedy; all the necessary ingredients. The minor characters are excellent; Otto in particular, Agnes Deigh (the play on words of course has meaning). Anselm is fascinating and there is a self-inflicted Abelard moment in a public toilet. So far I’ve managed to avoid saying what I thought of it. The Recognitions is undoubtedly a great novel and it was fun and challenging to read. I loved the trails that Gaddis leaves and following links and it is undoubtedly a literary masterpiece, worthy of its place in all the lists. The “but” you are sensing is that although I thoroughly enjoyed reading it; I didn’t love it. It didn’t invoke the passion that my favourite novels have, great though it is. But do read it for yourself and make your own mind up. 8 and a half out of 10 Starting Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace

Juggling was good Janet; it was the first I had read, hopefully not the last. Persuasion by Jane Austen It’s a long while since I read any Austen and this is one of those books which has appeared on my “which classics have you never read list” for years. I think everyone probably knows the plot through the book and the TV and film adaptations. The writing is, of course, great; the plot well constructed, focussed on the area around Bath. There isn’t a great deal of action on the surface, but, as always with Austen, there is much going on under the surface. Austen writes about what she knows and here she reflects the state of middle class society just as the Napoleonic wars ended. A great many youngish men were leaving the navy having made some money and gained some status and glory and were looking to settle with wives and property. As always Austen describes the delicate manoeuvres between the sexes and generations with an assured and confident pen. The setting of the West Country surrounding Bristol was also in economic flux at the time. The slave trade had recently been abolished and although there were still strong links between the area and the plantations in the West Indies (made much clearer in Mansfield Park), there had been some economic impact on upper middle class families in the area and some changes in lifestyle were required. Much has been written about Austen’s attitude to the slave trade and slavery (Edward Said being particularly critical), but its impact on her was probably limited because of her father’s occupation and economic circumstance; Austen was much more of an observer and a sharp one. I think Persuasion is a little more bittersweet than some of Austen’s earlier novels; the heroine is a little older (27; makes me feel ancient!!) and it’s about second chances, being true to your feelings. I would probably have been bored by it in my teens when I was reading Sartre and Camus, but now I appreciate the subtleties more. Austen wasn’t an author my parents had in the household and so I didn’t discover her as a child; Mansfield Park came along at school. Anyway I enjoyed this in a restrained sort of way! 8 and a half out of 10 Starting The Poorhouse Fair by John Updike

Ice and Fire by Andrea Dworkin It’s a long time since I’ve read anything by Andrea Dworkin and this is the first fiction; having previously read her feminist writings. This was her first novel. It was, at times, difficult (uncomfortable) to read and is going to be difficult to review. It was panned by many critics who did not see beyond the difficult content and simply missed many of the points Dworkin was trying to make. The novel is a first person narrative and has strong (but limited) autobiographical elements; there are significant areas of difference with Dworkin’s life. The childhood described is very similar to Dworkin’s; an adored father and a mother who was unwell for years. The narrator was brought up in a Jewish neighbourhood and describes the strict divisions between neighbourhoods and the changing nature of childhood games. The tone of the novel changes abruptly as it switches to adulthood with the narrator living with a girlfriend in New York’s Lower East Side. Both women are regular drug users; they earn money in a variety of ways, but mainly by selling themselves, to men and women. The men around them are predatory and they are beaten and raped at various times. The descriptions are bleak and often brutal. The descriptions of the surroundings in this novel are remarkably good and Dworkin does have a good descriptive mode; especially when describing squalor and bad food. The narrator also spends time in Europe (paralleling Dworkin’s time in The Netherlands). She writes and seems to start to find her voice, and meets and marries a man who is impotent. As he finds his confidence through her he becomes increasingly abusive and violent and she is seriously hurt. She manages to get back to the States and lives alone (we won’t mention the rats) in an apartment in the Lower East Side, where she writes. The end of the novel revolves around struggles to get published. It could not be described as an upbeat novel and a number of reviewers have focussed on the abuse and violence, missing inner meanings. I sat back at one point and the light suddenly came on (It took a while!) and realised what was going on. I think some background is helpful here. Dworkin is usually conveniently dismissed as being at the extreme end of the feminist spectrum (a reviewer on here refers to her as a “nutbar”). This is too easy as there is a great deal of nuance to her thought. I first read Dworkin in my late teens and early twenties, when I was also reading stuff by Brownmiller and Firestone. Her works on Intercourse and Pornography are very powerful and even more prescient today. The arguments are complex and Dworkin is not easily quotable (and I’m not reviewing Pornography here) , but this passage is illustratve; “Everything in life is part of it. Nothing is off in its own corner, isolated from the rest. While on the surface this may seem self-evident, the favorite conceit of male culture is that experience can be fractured, literally its bones split, and that one can examine the splinters as if they were not part of the bone, or the bone as if it were not part of the body. This conceit replicates in its values and methodology the sexual reductionism of the male and is derived from it. Everything is split apart: intellect from feeling and/or body. Some part substitutes for the whole and the whole is sacrificed to the part. So the scientist can work on bomb or virus, the artist on poem, the photographer on picture, with no appreciation of its meaning outside itself; and even reduce each of these things to an abstract element that is part of its composition and focus on that abstract element and nothing else -- literally attribute meaning to or discover meaning in nothing else. In the mid-twentieth century, the post-Holocaust world, it is common for men to find meaning in nothing: nothing has meaning; Nothing is meaning. In prerevolutionary Russia, men strained to be nihilists; it took enormous effort. In this world, here and now, after Auschwitz, after Hiroshima, after Vietnam, after Jonestown, men need not strain. Nihilism, like gravity, is a law of nature, male nature. The men, of course, are tired. It has been an exhausting perioed of extermination and devastation, on a scale genuinely new, with new methods, new possibilities. Even when faced with the probable extinction of themselves at their own hand, men refuse to look at the whole, take all the causes and all the effects into account, perceive the intricate connections between the world they make and themselves. They are alienated, they say, from this world of pain and torment; they make romance out of this alienation so as to avoid taking responsibility for what they do and what they are. Male dissociation from life is not new or particularly modern, but the scale and intensity of this disaffection are new. And in the midst of this Brave New World, how comforting and familiar it is to exercise passionate cruelty on women. The old-fashioned values still obtain. The world may end tomorrow, but tonight there is a rape -- a kiss, a fudge, a pat on the ass, a fist in the face. In the intimate world of men and women, there is no mid-twentieth century distinct from any other century. There are only the old values, women there for the taking, the means of taking determined by the male. It is ancient and it is modern; it is feudal, capitalist, socialist; it is caveman and astronaut, agricultural and industrial, urban and rural. For men, the right to abuse women is elemental, the first principle, with no beginning unless one is willing to trace origins back to God and with no end plausibly in sight. For men, their right to control and abuse the bodies of women is the one comforting constant in a world rigged to blow up but they do not know when.” Extrapolating from this Dworkin argues pornography is a very basic part of the structure of exploitation of women. In an interview with Michael Moorcock she put it more succinctly: “Pornography is so important, I think, because of how it touches on every aspect of women's lower status: economic degradation, dehumanisation, woman hating, sexual domination, systematic sexual abuse. If someone thinks she can get women economic equality, for instance, without dealing in some way with the sexual devaluation of women as such, I say she's wrong; but I also say work on it, try, organise; I will be there for her,” Dworkin has a particular complaint about De Sade and his approach to the world (“he embodies and defines male sexual values”). It has certainly been noted that Ice and Fire is a partial retelling of De Sade’s Juliett. However there are other elements. Dworkin herself said that Ice and Fire was an attempt to tell the truth about the intersection between poverty and sexual exploitation and it does this very well; the descriptive passages about poor housing are very powerfully written. Towards the end of the novel the narrator is living alone and writing. Here is a woman in a room of her own, writing, without money and in poverty; rats in the walls and no one taking you seriously, but the writing is everything. Each chapter begins with a quote from literature; some of which Dworkin uses to pose questions and illustrate attitudes. Like the one from Dostoyevsky, “Our women writers write like women writers, that is to say, intelligently and pleasantly, but they are in a terrible hurry to tell what is in their hearts. Can you explain why a woman writer is never a serious artist?” There is also a meditative passage on the Kafka quote “Coitus as punishment for the happiness of being together” which is profound and moving. It ends with the famous quote from Dworkin herself, “I am a feminist. Not the fun kind.” This novel is about degradation and survival in the face of being powerless and in poverty. It is powerful and uncomfortable, but it is brilliant with lots of hidden references, many of which I am sure I have missed. Dworkin is not easy and is much maligned and misunderstood. However the more I look at the internet the more I feel that her arguments about pornography may be fundamentally right. Dworkin was passionate about writing and feminism; “I've always considered writing sacred. I've come to consider the rights of women, including a right to dignity, sacred. This is what I care about. I don't want to give up what I care about.” (From her interview with Michael Moorcock). 8 and a half out of 10 Starting The Passion According to GH by Clarice Lispector

Thanks Athena Eagle in the Air by Rose Robinson I picked this book up in a local second hand shop that stocks lots of old penguin books. It was first published in 1969 and then by penguin a couple of years later. I had not heard of the book or the author and really did not know what to expect. The blurb on the back tells me that Rose Robinson was a black writer and that this was her first novel. In the front piece it indicates that Robinson was born in Chicago, sang with her sisters in a trio, was a professional dancer for a period, has a degree from the School of the Art Institute, had done some academic work for the University of Chicago, had taught in school and worked in community centres as a specialised activity teacher.It rather looks as though this was Robinson’s only published novel. The title is a Biblical reference from the book of Proverbs (30:18-19). “There are three things that are too amazing for me, four that I do not understand. The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid.” The book tells the story of Jean a young black woman at university in Chicago. It starts as she is taking part in a sit-in (it is the 60s!). She is expelled from college and moves in with a boyfriend. He turns out to be prone to drinking, losing jobs and a bully. Jean exits via the drainpipe and goes to her sister and brother-in-law. Her sister is having a breakdown and she cannot stay. She decides to head west to California to seek a new life. She has little money and so she hitch-hikes. Jean has a series of misadventures with racist and inappropriate men and is almost raped. She is rescued by Johnny, a one-armed man, travelling with a teenage boy (Kid) and she travels with them. There are tensions with Kid and some ups and downs on the journey. The main characters are drawn well and the dialogue is sharp. Kirkus reviews rather unkindly draw parallels with “the Perils of Pauline” which is rather unfair. It is a decent first novel. It has been thought through and has clear parallels with “On the Road”; here though the road is a much more threatening place for a young black woman. There are also shades of Steinbeck (Of Mice and Men) with the two characters that come to Jean’s rescue. Robinson resists the obvious clichéd ending. Initially the last sentence felt like a bit of a letdown, but on reflection Robinson is making a point about the limited opportunities (and dangers) society holds for black women. Jean has no money and is working in a shop, having started in college; but her character has humour and resilience despite predatory power of the men she has met. The only sympathetic male character, the one-armed Johnny, has learnt through loss and suffering and he continues to learn through Jean. A worthwhile discovery. 7 out of 10 Starting The Skating Rink by Roberto Bolano

A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf A standard must read text based on Woolf’s lectures to the two Cambridge colleges which admitted women in 1928. It expresses a clear truth and clear injustice in very inventive ways. She describes her trials and tribulations in writing and researching the lectures using a skilfully woven skein of history, fiction, opinion and musings on the outrageousness of the place of women. The part about Shakespeare’s sister is brilliant. Woolf is pointing out the importance of space and opportunity that have been denied to women (and also of course recognition; look at how many of the Nobel laureates for literature have been women). The simple exercise of pointing out the difference in the food at the male and female colleges says a great deal; as does the incident relating to the library. Woolf was accompanied by Vita Sackville-West when she delivered the lectures and there were coded messages throughout. She defended Rebecca West, who had been attacked by Desmond MacCarthy and talked quite directly (for the time) about lesbianism. This was pertinent because the furore over Radclyffe Hall was still quite recent and Woolf explains her own, more careful approach. Brief, important and groundbreaking; this doesn’t need me to be waffling on about it; it just needs to be read! 9 out of 10 Starting Ice and Fire by Andrea Dworkin

Thanks Marie and Devi; I will be looking out for more Trapido as well! Cathedral of the Sea by Ildefonso Falcones Hefty historical novel set in fourteenth century Barcelona and revolving around the building of a cathedral (yes there are similarities to Ken Follett’s Pillars of the Earth). Unlike Follett’s novel this is very much woven around fact and an actual building and events and is based on a contemporary chronicle. It is well plotted, but there is a certain predictability about it. The topics you would expect to come across are there; the inquisition, the plague, relationships with Jews and Moors, the guild system, money lending, serfdom and slavery, nobility, daily life, relationships between the sexes and so on. It is a saga based on the main protagonist Arnau Estanyol, his parents, his adopted brother Joan and his subsequent life and relationships. All the boxes are ticked and this makes for the predictability. The novel is informative and as it is based on historical fact I did learn a good deal about the history of fourteenth century Barcelona. Some of the characterisation was a little contrived. In the first part of the book there were a few characters who were clearly in the way of where the plot was clearly headed and I thought to myself; “How is he going to dispose of them?” Along comes the plague, and of course, the characters in the way succumb, leaving the plot to roll along. The ending was also a little too cosy and predictable, This sounds like I’m being rather harsh; the plot does move along at a good pace and there is certainly warmth to it that is endearing. It isn’t taxing and would make a good beach read (If I was into beaches!). 6 out of 10 Starting The World is what it is by Patrick French (biography of V S Naipaul)

Thanks Athena Juggling by Barbara Trapido I wasn’t sure about this one as I haven’t read any Barbara Trapido before; but it was actually rather good. It is a sequel apparently, but works as a standalone very well. This is all about Shakespearean comedy; which is to say it’s all rather tragic; in a light and comedic sort of way. Trapido serves up twins separated at birth, a defrocked priest, misplaced siblings, coincidences that are Shakespearean in concept, switched and transposed parents, blurred genders, rape, incest, religion, English public schools, fathers and daughters/sons, finding your mum snogging your English tutor’s wife and Trapido juggles all these balls and more in a very adept way. Juggling in this context has the Elizabethan meaning of to play tricks or deceive; a sort of sleight of hand. In the middle of a book one of the characters writes an essay on Shakespearean comedies which is reproduced in full and is brilliant: the point being; “The Tragedies are Tragedies and the Comedies are Tragedies. The Comedies are a better sort of tragedy because they make us laugh and because the characters stay alive.” And; “In the conflict of gender, the women win the war of words, but the men will win the battle. The women win on points, but the men are the people who have the points. They have the last weapon against the last word. They have kisses and penetration. Peace, I will stop your mouth Women are made to bear and so are you. The tragedy of the Comedies is that while sex draws men and women together, gender draws them apart. This is the terrible contradiction.” Trapido’s plots plays brilliantly with all of this in what is essentially a coming of age tale. The plot is really too complex to try to explain, but is simply told and easily followed. It does help to have something of a grasp of Shakespeare’s Comedies because there are so many references and parallels. I don’t really understand why Trapido is not better known; this is good stuff. 8 out of 10 Starting Eagle in the Air by Rose Robinson

Sowing by Leonard Woolf; vol 1 of his autobiography This is the first volume in Leonard Woolf’s five volume autobiography; covering the years 1880 to 1904 (childhood and university). Woolf wrote his autobiographies in his 80s (the 1960s). This volume covers his early childhood whilst his father was alive and the family was wealthy, the death of his father and the family having to move to save money, various public schools and finally Cambridge. It is very interesting, but rather dry and analytical. Woolf clearly had a brilliant mind and the best parts of the book are where he describes his relationships with the other members of the Apostles at Cambridge; Lytton Strachey, Sydney Saxon-Turner, Keynes, Thoby Stephen etc. I would have to describe Woolf as sympathetic and perceptive but rather emotionally closed and pedantic. He does not go in to great detail about his home life and Jewish upbringing; he decided he was a sceptic very young and did not practise his faith or attend synagogue. Learning and books were what really motivated him. Virginia and her sister Vanessa make an appearance later in the book. He describes the first time he saw them and it is worth quoting; “ I first saw them one summer afternoon in Thoby’s rooms; in white dresses and large hats, with parasols in their hands, their beauty literally took one’s breath away, for suddenly seeing them one stopped astonished, and everything, including one’s breathing, for one second, also stopped as it does when in a picture gallery you suddenly come face to face with a great Rembrandt or Velasquez, or in Sicily rounding a bend in the road you see across the fields the lovely temple of Segesta” That, I think, is an interesting reaction and an unusual way of describing attraction. It seemed to me to be more of an aesthetic than emotional reaction. The growth of Woolf’s political and moral views was illuminating and he was very clearly strongly influenced by the philosopher G E Moore. Woolf was also clearly influenced by Freud from the way he frames his reminiscences and he also explains that he and contemporaries were in revolt against a certain high Victorian moral sense. He has to explain this because when he was writing in 1960 it was pretty much beyond living memory. I would recommend Victoria Glendenning’s excellent biography for a full picture of Woolf. However this is interesting background reading for those interested in Virginia Woolf. 7 out of 10 Starting A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf

The Five People you Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom (Apologies to those who loved it) Not at all my normal fare, but it was a last thing at night read. I am a sceptic, so again this would not be a book that would attract me; it’s not that I like the idea of the cessation of existence at death, but I think that’s what happens. So how come I read this? Occasionally I buy books at auction because they can be very cheap; this came with assorted others, so ended up on the shelves. It’s very brief and could easily be read in one sitting and is about a fairground worker called Eddie. It isn’t much of a spoiler to say that Eddie dies at the beginning of the book. He then meets five people all linked to his life in some way who help him make sense of it all. Albom is an interesting character; I knew little about him prior to this, apart from the fact he has spent years grumbling about the Harry Potter books and films because he felt they made children stop reading other children’s classics. And here’s me thinking Harry Potter was just another English middle class, public school story! He has a column in the Detroit Free Press where he rants a bit about modern life (he also crosses picket lines, but that is a different story!) Back to the book; the reviews are mixed and it appears to be loved and hated (possibly by Harry Potter fans!) in equal measure. I can understand why; there is a lot of sentimentality and cliché (all endings are also beginnings; holding anger is a poison) and Albom has a habit of explaining thought processes and ideas in great detail which can irritate. There’s not a great deal to say about it; some people will love it and will find it comforting (most people want to believe everything will be ok in the end and we will see our loved ones again) and others will find it sentimental and irritating. Atheists probably shouldn’t read books about heaven! Anyway I’ve also heard it said that heaven is whatever you conceive it to be. Therefore here is mine. Heaven is a library with all the books ever published. Everyone subscribing to this heaven has their own personal space. Mine would have an open fire, be lined with books (of course), have a good armchair and there would be excellent food available at all times. There would be communal spaces to talk about books, watch film or TV if you wished and first class coffee. There would be a few other tweaks, but that is the essence. 5 out of 10 Starting The Line of beauty by Alan Hollinghurst

Clea by Lawrence Durrell The final part of the Quartet and it’s been a wonderful journey. Not quite as strong, I thought, as the other three. It is set about seven years later. Darley has been living on a Greek island looking after Melissa’s daughter (with Nessim). Balthasar arrives with information and writing from the late Pursewarden. Many of the aps from the previous novels are filled in. Darley returns to Alexandria, reuniting Nessim with his daughter. He bumps into Clea and begins a romantic relationship with her. It is Clea and her relationship with Darley that takes centre stage. The Quartet seems to hang together as a result of this novel and the prose is still wonderful. There were one or two ends that didn’t quite convince me (Justine for instance), but on the whole again Durrell has created a masterpiece. Darley is as short-sighted as ever when it comes to his romantic entanglements. The events of the war intertwine this novel and Alexandria is in the hands of the Free French. There are some neat comic touches; the late cross-dressing Scobie is now an unofficial saint and has his own feast day. All of the main participants take some sort of bow. Durrell indulges himself in all sorts of meditations covering art, the novel and creativity, set within the outstanding writing and the Freudian allusions. The fragments from Pursewarden add a great deal and an edge of cynicism and weirdness. At the centre of it all though is the nature of love and more particularly how miserable it can make you! The whole thing is a look at modern civilisation and its decadence. I also think Durrell is looking at the nature of truth because he looks at events from several different angles and points of view making the reader question their original judgement. The Quartet is a great achievement and the prose so beautiful it defies description. I enjoyed the first three slightly more than this one, but they stand alone as a whole. 7 and a half out of 10 Starting Persuasion by Jane Austen

Thanks Julie and Athena! A single Man by Christopher Isherwood An astounding piece of work; a day in the life of novel. The day belongs to George Falconer; an English professor in his 50s (English by nationality as well) teaching in southern California. It is set in the early 1960s. George’s lover Jim has recently died suddenly and he is alone again. The novel takes us from waking to breakfast, to travelling to work and so on. This doesn’t have the grandiosity of Joyce; it is much more straightforward and focuses living each day because of life’s brevity. The novel is about loss, but it is also about being an outsider (in this case gay, a foreigner, middle-aged, alone); most of all it is about being human and we share George’s day, his hopes and fears. The interactions with Charlotte and Kenny are wonderfully poignant (and very funny). The prose is beautiful. Some stream of consciousness novels can be hard work, but this one just flows; it could so easily have become sentimental because of the focus on loss, but it does not. The everyday occurrences are well described; dinner with a friend, teaching class (George’s interior monologue is wonderful), a flirtation, swimming in the sea (admittedly only everyday if you live near it!) and the normal activities of all our lives; even driving a car. Isherwood is really asking “How do we live?” “How do we get through life?” There are no answers but the ending is truly great and you will you a long way to find a better one in literature. Isherwood not only describes being alone well, he also captures being in a relationship with another; “The perfect evening...lying down on the couch beside the bookcase and reading himself sleepy...Jim lying opposite him at the other end of the couch, also reading; the two of them absorbed in their books yet so completely aware of each other's presence.” The descriptions of the physical geography of the house, as it is lived in alone and the contrast with two people living in the same small space is just brilliant. This is just a great novel and I would urge everyone to read it. There is a certain level of melancholy, but there is warmth, hope and great humanity. 9 and a half out of 10 Starting Under the Volcano by Malcolm Lowry

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon Atmospheric is a good way to describe this; it’s a bit like an old black and white film noir with soft edges. The language was lovely and draws in the reader. Genre is difficult to pin down. It is set in Barcelona in the 1940s and 1950s; but there is a story within the story that goes back to the 1920s and 1930s. The backdrop is the civil war and the Franco regime. There is an element of historical novel, coming of age, mystery/detective, mystical, love stories, family drama and probably a few more if I sat down and thought about it. There is a love of books at the centre (and libraries) and so a bibliophile is going to be attracted to it. It is witty, clever and has a touch of irony about it. The character of Fermin is a wonderful creation and worth reading the book for alone. I noted a touch of wistfulness and nostalgia in the novel and wasn’t surprised to learn that Zafon wrote this living in the US. The first half/two-thirds of this book felt magical, but for me it lost its way in the last third. I’m not entirely sure why, but some of the plot devices were a little clunky and the letter from Nuria towards the end for me tied up too many loose ends. Fumero was just too unbelievable. Finally most of the female characters were a little too two-dimensional and done unto (even Nuria). Nevertheless I did enjoy this and sometimes having all loose ends neatly tied is quite attractive and reassuring (but not too often!) 7 out of 10 Starting The five people you meet in heaven by Mitch Alborn

It is worth reading Athena; not at all like the movie I Should Have Been a Hornby Train by Pat Arrowsmith Hands up anyone who knows anything about Pat Arrowsmith; her novels, autobiographical writings, poetry, art. I thought not. I found this particular autobiographical work about her childhood and schooldays in a local second hand bookshop. I remembered hearing her speak at a public meeting when I was a student and bought the book. Her life has been a remarkable one. Born to middle class parents (in 1930) and privately educated at Cheltenham Ladies College, Cambridge and then a Fulbright scholar. She was a founder member of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, a lesbian and activist for gay rights, working for Amnesty International and campaigning for British troops to leave Ulster in the 1970s. All of this made her a fully paid up member of the awkward squad and she was not afraid of controversy or conflict. She has been to prison eleven times as a result of her anti-nuclear, anti arms trade and political protests (mostly in the UK, but once in Thailand and once in Greece); she was force fed whilst on hunger strike in 1960 in Gateside prison. She has been an Amnesty International prisoner of conscience. She escaped from prison once and says she regrets not escaping more often. She refuses to pay fines for her protests at military bases and when arranging an interview with the Guardian in 2008 she asked the reporter to ring 3x as she was also expecting the bailiffs. She was the first person to “come out” in Who’s Who. Her father did not approve of her lifestyle and left a clause in his will to say she could only inherit if she married. She duly did; had the marriage annulled the same day and then gave all the inheritance away to causes she supported. This book is autobiographical. The title comes from an incident just after she was born when her father told her two older brothers there was a surprise waiting for them in the living room. They were expecting a Hornby train set, but got a sister! It is a fascinating look at a middle class childhood in England in the 1930s and 1940s. The writing is based on extracts from Arrowsmith’s diaries at the time. She also draws on two unpublished novels which she had written by the age of 18, based loosely on her family and school life. Inevitably Arrowsmith did not fit in easily and was expelled from one school (Stover) and almost expelled from Cheltenham. Arrowsmith picks over familiar childhood themes and relationships and does so with a clear and perceptive eye. She examines sibling and parental relationships, living away from home, peer relationships/friendships, sport, passions, breaking the rules, schoolwork, teachers and so on. It is well written, even the material from her teenage years (she hasn’t changed the grammar or spelling mistakes). A worthwhile read and I will certainly look for her novels and poetry. She has written novels about peace camps and about her time in a women’s prison. Arrowsmith is still politically active, but you won’t find the reportage in the mainstream press; since she helped to found CND and helped to organise the first Aldermaston March she has been outside of and opposed to the Establishment; too uncomfortable even for the Labour Party. This is worth looking out for. 8 out of 10 starting Sowing by Leonard Woolf

thanks Kylie! A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess I’m not sure how I’ve got through over 50 years without reading this and this year I have one or two books on my list which could be titled “books I should have read as a teenager and probably shouldn’t read now”. This is one of them. The history surrounding it is also interesting. Burgess was returning home with his wife from working abroad for six years in 1960, He was at this point diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour (mistakenly as it happens). He set to writing and wrote five and a half novels in a year. This one is the half, the first draft written in three weeks. Burgess’s plan was to enable his wife to live on the royalties when he was gone (he was a man confident in his abilities). The novel is written with a first person narrator, Alex, and is very violent. It is set 10 years ahead of when it was written. One of the striking features is the language and the slang that Burgess invents; known as Nadsat. Burgess had visited Russia and based some of the words on Russian, others on cockney rhyming slang. He was a great fan of Finnegan’s Wake and liked his readers to do a bit of work and liked the idea of layers. Actually you can access a crib sheet on the internet fairly easily these days. The violence is sickening and Burgess said he hated writing it. It is notable that in 1944 Burgess’s first wife was brutally attacked by 4 army deserters and suffered a miscarriage as a result. Burgess puts this incident into the book; but from the point of view of the attackers, as an attempt to explain/understand. Again the controversy about the film, which is more nihilistic than the book rests on a mistake as originally the last chapter was omitted from the first US edition. This makes for a much more negative ending and explains the difference between the film and the book. For Burgess the last chapter is crucial and is where the morality of the book rests. In part one we have Alex and his gang running free and committing violence without compunction (it was a stroke of genius to call the police millicents!). In part two Alex is incarcerated and given a sort of aversion therapy so he is physically sick when confronted with any violence. In the third part Alex is released into society; he is now in his late teens. He finds he cannot recapture the past. Eventually his treatment is reversed. Alex tries to set up a new gang, but finds he is now beginning to be bored by what previously excited him and eventually decides that he would rather settle down with a milky drink and listen to music than beat people up. That is the point of the book; the excesses of youth are ephemeral and will pass. However there is another set of youth to replace him and the cycle never ends. There is a morality, but also a deep underlying pessimism. Some of the victims from part one and reintroduced in part three and all are deeply scarred by their experiences; all want revenge and society isn’t mended by Alex being punished. In later life Burgess did wonder whether he should have written the novel and felt the film had fundamentally misunderstood his purpose. However, for me, there is no clarity in that purpose. Burgess raises interesting points about violence, which in A Clockwork Orange is always by men, and its effects. He tries to understand and explain rather than solve or preach. The “liberal” cure of making Alex “good” fails miserably and takes away his ability to choose. What cures him is time and the process or ageing or growing up. However the next generation has taken over and the process continues. Incidentally the use of language and the writing are brilliant; but the message is gloomy. 8 out of 10 Starting Juggling by Barbara Trapido

The Birds on the Trees by Nina Bawden I generally associate Nina Bawden with children’s books and with the Potter’s Bar train crash, which she survived but her husband did not. However she also wrote some novels. This one was written in 1970; the year of the “lost Booker” and so several decades later this was nominated for the Booker of that year. It is a surgical analysis of a middle class family under pressure as their eldest son Toby is expelled from school for drug taking, decides he does not want to go to Oxbridge after all and has a breakdown. As the blurb on the back of my penguin edition says Toby’s parents have emerged from the war into parenthood with Freud in one hand and Spock in the other. They mean well, but are pretty clueless. The novel uses several narrative voices; both parents, Maggie and Charlie, Toby’s younger sister Lucy, Maggie’s mother Sara; this can make for a little confusion at times and the novel feels a little clumsy at times. Frustratingly we do not hear Toby and he is seen through the lens of others. Lucy’s voice is the most interesting (she is 12) as she struggles to understand what the adults are hiding and begins to feel left out and decides she must be adopted. Maggie and Charlie haven’t a clue what to do and stumble around, usually doing more harm than good. Maggie’s mother Sara appears the most sensible and Bawden charts the problems and physical decline of old age very perceptively. Maggie’s father is a wonderful comic and eccentrically monstrous creation and we see too little of him. Although it is a serious novel there are some lovely comic touches; “Maggie: At least Iris always knows what she thinks! In my present state, I find that an enviable achievement. Charlie: If her mind is ordered, it's only because it contains so little.” There are flaws; the ending doesn’t really convince and the prologue is a little too disconnected from the main body of the novel. Toby’s character is also a little two-dimensional, but that may be part of the structure of the novel as everything is about reactions to Toby and his behaviour. It is now described as a “Hampstead” novel because of the setting. Bawden was writing about what she knew and the character of Maggie is also a novelist. There are some striking similarities to Bawden’s own tragic life. I’m making an effort to read more female novelists this year and despite a few flaws I did enjoy this. 7 out of 10 Starting A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood

Julie; it's just coincidence, but with a little planning; as I get older I realise how much is left to read! Pontalba; thanks, I hope you enjoy the ones you've picked out! I am sure Andrew Motion hasn't written about Nabakov; he writes mainly poetry and has done bios of Keats and Larkin and a few novels. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass by Frederick Douglass This is a very brief first volume of a three volume autobiography. It is moving, powerful and horrific portrait of slavery in one of the so-called more humane slave states in the 1820s and 1830s. It is an important historical document, but is also much more than that; published in 1845 it opened a window for the general public in the north who knew little about the inner workings of slavery. Douglass does not know his birthday, who his father was and was separated from his mother very early in life (this was usual). He describes the brutality, whippings, the deaths of other slaves and the attitudes of various owners. Some are crueller than others; in general the most pious and religious were the worst, especially when it came to whipping. Douglass does not describe how he escaped as this was written before slavery was abolished and he did not want to give slave holders information which might prejudice the escape of others. This is a book that demands to be read; it is passionate and eloquent. It really should be better known here in the UK and ought to be mandatory reading in any serious study of slavery and racism. It is interesting to look at the history of the time and the reactions of slave-owners to Douglass’s book. The rest of Douglass’s life is fascinating as is his political career; he was also a noteworthy supporter of women’s rights; “In this denial of the right to participate in government, not merely the degradation of woman and the perpetuation of a great injustice happens, but the maiming and repudiation of one-half of the moral and intellectual power of the government of the world” Highly recommended. 9 out of 10 Starting I should have been a Hrnby train by Pat Arrowsmith