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  • Birthday 07/18/1960

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  1. I have loved both of his books that I have read France A State of Freedom by Neel Mukherjee “After all, we make ourselves according to the ideas we have of our possibilities.” “Something about the urgency of the swarming and the indescribable sound that emanated from that swiftly engorging clot of people, a tense noise between buzzing and truculent murmuring, instantly transmitted the message that a disaster had occurred. Otherwise how else would the child have known to ask, ‘Baba, people running, look. What’s happening there?’ And how else could the driver have answered, mercifully in Hindi, ‘A man’s just fallen from the top of that building under construction. A labourer. Instant death, poor man.” This is the first novel I have read by Mukherjee. It is a set of what seem like short stories, but they are all linked. Some of the minor players early on have their backstories explored later. This does lead towards some disjointedness. It is also a bit of a “state of the nation” novel as well. There are also echoes of a certain V S Naipaul here as well (remember In a Free State). Displacement and migration have a role to play. This linking of disparate lives also reminded me of Dickens. Class, stratification and inequality are also significant. This is a pretty grim portrait of India. There is an interesting passage relating to a son of a middle class family who is visiting from Britain looking for someone in a slum: “People were now looking at me. My discomfort escalated and it was not only because of the stares. Edicts from a middle-class upbringing on looking into other people’s lives through their open doors and windows combined with a liberal sensitivity, acquired later in life, about treating the poor as anthropological fieldwork or a tourist attraction, to produce a mixture of dread, guilt and self-loathing.” The later tales are, if anything even bleaker and the grim and grinding nature of poverty take centre stage. Watch out for the Naipaul link in the fourth story (the incident with the cupboard). All this is possibly even more hopeless than Naipaul, who, for me, overshadows this too much and Naipaul’s infamous quote “Hate oppression, fear the oppressed” is writ large. Here the only way out is to leave: the UK in one instance, Germany in another. Even the Maoists who might provide a way out, end up being another trap. Lives are heavily circumscribed. Personally I found the middle tale, the story of the training of a performing bear difficult to read. Sadly, I have to report, the bear didn’t eat its rather cruel owner. Movement and migration take centre stage as well: not just to Europe or the US, but within India, to big cities, even into the jungle to join the guerrillas. Mukherjee has obviously been a part of that movement himself and there is a sense of being uprooted and looking back to a different way of life. The whole is awkward in parts and its analysis is bleak. Freedom is generally achieved away from home and with dislocation comes trauma. There is no humour or conviviality and cruelty is ever present. There are plenty of critiques here, many of which I am sure hit home, but it does feel like that the only person in a state of freedom here is the writer, over in the UK. 6 out of 10 Starting The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles
  2. One Fine Day by Ian Marchant This is the second book I have read by Ian Marchant and both are among my favourites of all time. Marchant was researching his family tree and discovered one of his ancestors in the eighteenth century kept a diary. Thom Marchant 1676-1728 was Ian’s 7x great grandfather and kept a detailed diary from 1714 to 1728. That was unusual in those times. Thom was a gentleman farmer, so there is a great deal about day to day farming life: the simple daily tasks, the costs of day to day tasks and articles. There is stuff about family, children and farm staff. There is also plenty about recreation (a great deal of drinking), including one of the earliest descriptions of a game of cricket. Marchant traces his family back into the fifteenth century when he discovers they were immigrants from Belgium. They settled in Sussex from Belgium and brought a new iron smelting technique to the country. Marchant tells the story of his ancestors, but he also weaves it in with his own story. The book was researched just before lockdown in 2020. Just as lockdown started Marchant was diagnosed with prostate cancer of the terminal variety: “not the good kind that you die with, but the bad kind that you probably die of” He is still alive and still receiving treatment, but this forms a backdrop to the book. Marchant is insatiably curious and follows all sorts of leads and concepts, it pretty much turns into a social history and commentary, then and now. There are detours about the measurement of time, the uses of dung (very good for feeding fish apparently), underwear (disposable, made of vegetable material; really, don’t ask), the development of the smallpox vaccine, iron production, turnips, Brexit and immigration, wigs (the best were made of human hair, all had nits), wig snatching (yes, it was a thing), the nature of eighteenth century alcohol, fishponds, travel and its problems and much more. This is really about England and Marchant’s perception of it then and now: “… a boutique festival sort of place, an artisanal gin Michelin-starred pub, Airbnb Country Living place, a defanged, disenchanted landscape”. Marchant also comments on political things. Ancestor Thom was a Jacobite, so that provides another aside. This means Thom was Tory and Marchant makes a trenchant comment about the current Conservative party: “…there is precious little resemblance between the Conservative Party of Baldwin, MacMillan and Heath that my grandpop supported and the current gang of Ayn Rand fanboy libertarian accelerationists who have seized power both in this country and over the zombie corpse of their party.” This is full of interesting stuff and Marchant is an interesting chap: writer, musician, ex-punk, diarist and a bit of a sage. 10 out of 10 Starting Fyneshade by Kate Griffin
  3. The Plains of Cement by Patrick Hamilton “A silent, beastly moment if ever there was one, and not much improved by the opening of the door–this by a fellow wage-slave, dressed in the neat insignia of wage-slavery, a cap and apron, but not very friendly or understanding in her manners. Hidden rivalry and circumspection, rather than fellow-feeling, most often exists between wage-slave and wage-slave in circumstances such as these, possibly because of their sensitiveness to the dangerous surplus of willing wage-slaves on the market, and possibly because certain fortunate wage-slaves come to acquire some of the aloof and clannish airs of their lords above.” This is the third part of the Twenty Thousand Streets under the Sky trilogy by Patrick Hamilton. It follows the story of the barmaid Ella. She is 28 and single and has the usual banter with the regulars. She has had feelings for her co-worker Bob, which she has kept secret. The focus of this story is a burgeoning relationship. One of the regulars, Mr Eccles. He invites Ella out and they start a relationship. The novel is from Ella’s point of view and we see things from her perspective: "He had lost much of his self-consciousness, and talked less about her and more about himself - his likes and dislikes, his approvals and disapprovals - rather with an air of giving her a Short Course in himself for her present convenience and future reference." Mr Eccles is over twenty years older than Ella and has some means. There’s a moment of realisation for her when she wonders if she would tolerate him without the money. Hamilton is good at the details of human life. He also has a telling turn of phrase: "There is a great deal of the tomb in a bedroom; all passions, delights, scheming’s, ambitions, triumphs, must be taken back at night to these caves of cold arbitration." Hamilton makes his main characters flawed but sympathetic. He captures a place and time: the underside of 1920s London. He chronicles the downbeat, the denizens of the rundown public houses, single rooms containing the lonely and the desperate. This one focuses on unrequited love and unsuitable suitors. No romantic love triangles here and love is bleak. The character of Ernest Eccles, the unsuitable suitor, is a grotesque, but again not totally unsympathetic. If bleak is your thing then you may like this. 7 and a half out of 10 Starting The Crow Eaters by Bapsi Sidhwa
  4. Jenny Wren by E H Young “In the sloping, one sided street called Beulah Mount, no two houses are alike. Some of them are flat fronted, a few are bow-windowed and some have flimsy, roofed balconies outside the first floor windows, and these, even when in need of painting, give an effect of diminished but persistent gaiety to a terrace built in an age of leisure and of privilege.” Another Virago read; this is the first of two novels. I have the next one and will read it following this one. I have previously read Chatterton Square and like that one this is also set in Bristol: renamed Radstowe. Young was a supporter of suffrage and a keen climber and mountaineer. She had a lifelong relationship with Ralph Henderson, a friend of her husband’s. After her husband’s death in the War she moved in with Henderson and his wife. This is the story of two sisters, Jenny and Dahlia. This first novel focuses more on Jenny and the second more on Dahlia. It starts following the death of their father. They move from the country with their mother to a house in Upper Radstowe where they will take in lodgers. This being rather Engliash, there is a focus on class. Mr Rendall, Jenny and Dahlia’s father married someone (Louisa) from a lower social class. This has ramifications which ripple through the whole novel and affects the sisters in different ways. The sisters have feelings that they are of a different class to their mother, who does have a tendency to embarrass them. There are some unpleasant neighbours and of course, men! Young builds her characters gradually and with subtlety and doesn’t always take the expected route. She can be rather wordy and the plot, such as it is, meanders a bit. The minor characters are well rounded and Young is quite good at portraying insignificant lives that are full of disappointment. Young is quite clever at building her characters, like this description of the vicar, Mr Doubleday: “Before Sunday came around again the vicar had called at No. 15 Beulah Mount. He had come and gone like a child’s india-rubber ball, lightly bouncing up the steps, into the hall and Mr Cummings’ sitting room. There he rested precariously, as a ball does, threatening to move at a breath, hovering between stability and motion, and in his repetitive, staccato speech he confirmed his likeness to a ball.” The sisters are caught between their father’s class and their mother’s and don’t really fit into either. They also discover that desire is a double-edged sword. The most vivid character in the book is their mother Louisa, who has far less scruples than her daughters and knows how to enjoy herself (to their embarrassment). Jenny is a bit of a dreamer and the whole has a dreamlike character. As others have pointed out there are some parallels with Sense and Sensibility, but Young doesn’t have the lightness of touch of Austen. As is often the case in this type of novel, marriage is often seen as the only way out, although the sisters take entirely different approaches. It was a bit slow, but I quite like Young’s rather pedestrian approach to these things. 7 out of 10 Starting The Curate's Wife by E H Young
  5. Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck “I saw in their eyes something I was to see over and over in every part of the nation- a burning desire to go, to move, to get under way, anyplace, away from any Here. They spoke quietly of how they wanted to go someday, to move about, free and unanchored, not toward something but away from something. I saw this look and heard this yearning everywhere in every states I visited. Nearly every American hungers to move.” I have no idea whether the above is true or not: in 1960 or now. This is effectively a travelogue. Steinbeck was living in Long Island after having lived abroad for some years. He felt he was disconnected from his home country and decided he needed to rediscover it. The way he did this was by planning a road trip. He bought a campervan which he adjusted to his needs. He named it Rocinante (after Don Quixote’s old horse). He went without any human company but took his dog Charley, a large French Poodle type dog. He sort of travelled in a circle around the outside, though the northern states, then California and east through the southern states: avoiding the heartlands altogether. The book was published in 1962 and the road trip took place in 1960. Recent debates have often focused on how accurate and authentic the whole thing is. A good number of the conversations do sound forced; Steinbeck is a fiction writer. A journalist, some years ago tried to recreate the trip and did some research into some of the detail. He discovered that it wasn’t just him and Charley most of the time, but often his wife Elaine was with him and they stayed in motels and hotels. Fans have generally argued that while much of it is factually inaccurate, there is an authentic feel to it. Steinbeck writes well and is obviously a novelist first. It’s also redolent of male writers of a certain breed: “I have always lived violently, drunk hugely, eaten too much or not at all, slept around the clock or missed two nights of sleeping, worked too hard and too long in glory, or slobbed for a time in utter laziness. I've lifted, pulled, chopped, climbed, made love with joy and taken my hangovers as a consequence, not as a punishment.” There is also a certain sadness or lostness to the book. Steinbeck obviously felt things weren’t as they should be in the US. This is particularly so in the South and in New Orleans. Steinbeck tackles the issue of race head on. It was the height of the Civil Rights movement and Steinbeck was generally known as a liberal type. He writes of some of the protests outside desegregated schools. The language that comes with it is also s you would expect. Steinbeck feels nauseated by what he hears. What bothered me about this aspect of the book was his sense that there was little that could be done. No thought about helping or joining the resistance. Another reflection is that I am wondering why many travelogues are just not that at all but are part fiction. Chatwin’s In Patagonia is another example. Maybe a travelogue is an excuse for a series of ramblings and reflections that don’t fit anywhere else. This has a certain warmth and I liked the dog, but the whole did not really work for me. 5 out of 10 Starting London Crooks and Characters by Henry Mayhew
  6. Minutes of Glory by Ngugi wa Thiong'o “Tea was brought. They drank, still chatting about the death, the government’s policy, and the political demagogues who were undesirable elements in this otherwise beautiful country. But Mrs. Hill maintained that these semi-illiterate demagogues who went to Britain and thought they had education did not know the true aspirations of their people. You could still win your ‘boys’ by being kind to them.” A collection of fifteen short stories by Ngugi wa Thiongo' which span several decades in time and in the writing. My first time reading him, although I have one of his novels on the shelves. He’s in his eighties now and still hasn’t won the Nobel. These stories are all set in Kenya, some during the colonial era. Others are more modern and reflect on the changes the end of Empire have brought. They aren’t just about colonialism though; they look at the intersections between colonialism, gender, religion, race, class, identity, insecurity, political corruption and tradition. Some of the stories do give clues to Ngugi’s admiration for Frantz Fanon and his rejection of Christianity and English. The scars of colonialism are present throughout, and the tensions of post-colonial Kenya are explored. There is a touch of magic realism, which actually works well and isn’t overdone. Ngugi does mourn the loss of a connection to tradition and the land: “In any case the place was now a distant landscape in the memory. Her life was here in the bar among this crowd of lost strangers. Fallen from grace, fallen from grace. She was part of a generation which would never again be one with the soil, the crops, the wind and the moon. Not for them that whispering in dark hedges, not for her that dance and love-making under the glare of the moon, with the hills of TumuTumu rising to touch the sky.” The stories are collected into four groups: Mothers and Children, Fighters and Martyrs, Secret Lives and Shadows and Priests. There are difficult themes and topics, but a couple of the stories do have an element of whimsy about them. This is an excellent collection and well worth seeking out. 9 out of 10 Starting One Fine day by Ian Marchant
  7. Washington Black by Esi Edugyan “There were the fanged metal jaws of a mantrap meant to catch runaways, and the blood-blackened boulder upon which several men had been whipped dead, and there was the solitary redwood wide as a carriage, from which a weathered noose hung. And there were knife marks in the tree’s bark, where men had been pinned through the throat and left to perish, and there were the raw patches where the grass had not grown back since the bodies of the old and infirm had been set there to rot. And above it all, pristine and untroubled, sat Wilde Hall, with its clear view to the sea – a sea turquoise and glistening with phosphorus, the miles of sand pure and white as salt.” “You were more concerned that slavery should be a moral stain upon white men than by the actual damage it wreaks on black men.” George Washington Black is a young slave on a Barbados plantation. The novel starts in 1830 when he is about eleven. Some may say “not another novel about slavery!” But as Colson Whitehead said when asked: “Q: Why write about slavery? Haven’t we had enough stories about slavery? Why do we need another one? A: I could have written about upper middle class white people who feel sad sometimes, but there’s a lot of competition.” The novel does start with the brutality of slavery but does not stay there. Wash, as he is known, becomes the personal servant of the brother of the plantation owner. Christopher Wilde (Titch) is humane and obsessed with building a sort of flying machine/balloon. Wash learns to copy and draw, discovering he has a great talent in this direction and is taught the basics of reading and writing. This is all about identity and self-discovery. Wash ends up visiting the American South, parts of Canada (Nova Scotia and the arctic), Morocco, Holland and England. There’s plenty of symbolism: shades of Frankenstein in the Arctic. There is all sorts here: some beautiful writing, action and adventure, lessons in marine biology, the description of the building of an early aquarium. The scientific thread certainly adds interest. There is some nuance in the tale. Wash, although he is set free, carries slavery with him in a variety of ways. There is a bit more tell than show though, a sense of Wash looking back, which takes some of the edge off things. There are a few niggles, particularly Titch’s mysterious disappearance in the middle of the book and his even more mysterious survival and reappearance. On the whole though Edugyan makes her points easily and although she throws a lot in the novel educates and entertains. 7 and a half out of 10 Starting A State of Freedom by Neel Mukherjee
  8. The Siege of Pleasure by Patrick Hamilton ““You’re a bad little girl, ain’t you?” he said waggishly. “How did you get that way?” “Oo,” she said, in the same burlesquing spirit. “I Took the Wrong Turning, my dear. I Took to Drink.” “You did–eh?” “That’s right, my dear,” she went on in the same way, “All through a Glass of Port.” She was speaking without the slightest seriousness at the moment, but a little later, thinking of odd things as she humoured him and his kisses and the taxi curved and sped through the mauve-lit London streets, she wondered whether she had accidentally hit on truth.” This is the second in Patrick Hamilton’s Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky trilogy. This one is the story of the second of the three characters who dominate the books: Jenny, the young prostitute. This is a how did it all start account and is set just before the first in the series. At the beginning of the novel (actually a novella) Jenny has just started a job in service working for three elderly members of the same family. It’s a steady job and Jenny does it well. This is the story of her “downfall” and is very much an advertisement for the evils of strong drink as the quote above illustrates. The turning point for Jenny is a night out and the morning after which takes up the majority of the novel. She ditches her steady but rather boring boyfriend for more exciting company. It is a reflection on the human condition and I am realising that Hamilton is not really a happy soul (not surprising given his history). He certainly isn’t sentimental and catches something of the appeal of alcohol: “A permeating coma, a warm haze of noises and conversation wrapped her comfortable around–together with something more. What that something more was she did not quite know. She sat there and let it flow through her. It was a glow, a kind of premonition. It was certainly a spiritual, but much more emphatically a physical, premonition of good about to befall. It was like the effect on the body of good news, without the good news–a delicious short cut to that inconstant elation which was so arduously won by virtue from the everyday world. It engendered the desire to celebrate nothing for no reason.” This is the start of a downward spiral, which is continued in book one in her interactions with Bob. Hamilton is also talking about class. Jenny because of her origins and her violent upbringing has her aspirations limited. All she can expect is a life in a factory, in service or as a wife with children. It is bleak, but again it is a vivid picture of 1920s London that doesn’t involve flappers and the privileged. 8 out of 10 Starting The Plains of Cement by Patrick Hamilton.
  9. The Lure of Atlantis edited by Michael Wheatley Another in the Tales of the Weird series from the British Library. The theme is Atlantis and this is by far the weakest collection in the series. Plato has a lot to answer for! Unfortunately here the dividing line between weird and silly is rather frequently crossed. There are ten short stories in this one: well nine and an extract from Verne’s twenty thousand Leagues Under the Sea. It’s split into four sections: Atlantis Rediscovered, Atlantis Revisited, Atlantis Resurrected and Atlantis Reimagined. Apart from the Verne there are stories from H P Lovecraft, Donald Wandrei, Henry Kuttner, Clark Ashton Smith, Robert Howard, Edmond Hamilton, Frances Bragg Middleton, Joel Martin Nichols Jr and finally Will Smith and R J Robbins. Again the standard is variable. The Lovecraft contains some very unpleasant anti-German tropes. There are a couple which recall past lives. Nothing really stood out. A couple reminded me of Dungeons and Dragons. Not as engaging as previous books in the series. 5 out of 10 Starting Salvation by Peter Hamilton
  10. Manhattan in Reverse by Peter Hamilton “His reaction was a sign of civilization. Nobody reaches for a gun anymore, just for his lawyer.” My first foray in Hamilton is a collection of short stories. Admittedly and easy way in as Hamilton is best known for his space opera type novels. These tend to be very, very long, eight to twelve hundred pages. I have a couple on my shelves and they have been there for years. This is just a try out before I read one of the lengthier ones. This consists of seven stories, one of which is pretty much a novella. There are some stories set in Hamilton’s Commonwealth universe, which would probably reverberate more with those who have read the series. The novella, Watching Trees Grow is set in an alternative world where the Roman Empire didn’t fall. It starts in Oxford in the 1820s where there are already telephones and electric cars and are on the verge of atomic power. It is a detective story and spans over two hundred years. The problem of longevity has been cracked and so we see the same characters over the years. Footvote looks at modern Britain, with a twist. Someone has opened a wormhole to another planet and is allowing it to stay open for two years. Who goes and who stays and what are the criteria. It’s an exploration of family life and modern Britain. If at First … is a time travelling story with a twist The Forever Kitten is very short and explores a form of immortality with a very nasty twist. Blessed by an Angel is a spin off from his Void series. The last two stories: The Demon Trap and Manhattan in Reverse are linked to the Commonwealth series and feature Paula Myo, a detective of sorts and a vat grown human. Hamilton throws lots of ideas around, but the basic theme is about what makes us human. The ideas are interesting and I will read some of his longer stuff if I have a rainy month or two! 7 and a half out of 10 Starting Minutes of Glory and other stories by Ngugi wa Thiong'o
  11. The Midnight Bell by Patrick Hamilton "The Saloon Bar was narrow and about thirty feet in length. On your right was the bar itself, in all its bottly glitter, and on your left was a row of tables set against a comfortable and continuous leather seat which went the whole length of the bar. At the far end the Saloon Bar opened out into the Saloon Lounge. This was a large, square room, filled with a dozen or so small, round, copper-covered tables. Around each table were three or four white wicker armchairs, and on each table there lay a large stone ash-tray supplied by a Whisky firm." This is the first part of Patrick Hamilton’s Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky trilogy, published in 1929. The novel revolves around a public house called the Midnight Bell, in the Euston area. The first book concerns Bob a twenty-five year old sailor who is working at the bar in the pub. The other two main characters are Ella, who also works at the bar and Jenny, a prostitute and regular visitor to the pub. The second book in the trilogy focuses on Jenny and the third on Ella. Bob is infatuated with Jenny, Ella is very fond of Bob. Jenny is less fond of Bob than he is of her. Bob has aspirations to become a writer. He has also been working hard and saving and has put aside eighty pounds in his bank account as part of his plans to write one day. Bob, however, is now obsessed with Jenny, who tolerates him and periodically encourages him a little and this is an exploration of obsession and doomed love. It’s also about the desire to possess, reform and “rescue” someone. The pub itself is the vibrant heart of the novel and this is a great evocation of 1920s London and pub life. This is certainly not the Bright Young Things and the Flappers. It is partially autobiographical and there is subtlety in the portrayal of both characters. The reader is taken through Bob’s gradual whittling down of his savings as he attempts to buy his way into Jenny’s heart. Jenny is not a caricature, not evil or heartless. Hamilton is most definitely not a writer who does “happy”, but the writing is immersive. The ending is not a surprise, but this is more about the journey: the reader knows all along that Bob is fooling himself. There is a three part adaptation by the BBC from about twenty years ago, which I haven’t seen. This is a good start to the trilogy. 8 out of 10 Starting The Siege of Pleasure by Patrick Hamilton
  12. Cornish Horrors edited by Joan Passey A collection from the British Library Tales of the Weird series, all set in Cornwall: part of England which is pretty much a land in itself with its own language. Plenty of gothic horror here, no pasties. In this collection there is a variety of writers, including Bram Stoker, Poe, Mary Braddon, Conan Doyle, F. Tennyson Jesse, Quiller Couch, Clara Venn, E M Bray, Mary Penn and various others including anonymous and someone entitled M.H. They are collected from the nineteenth and early twentieth century. There is an intelligently written introduction by Dr Joan Passey which reminds us that there is a rich heritage of folklore and history to draw from in Cornwall. As she reminds us Cornwall is: "real, and close, alternately viewed as the end of the land and its beginning” As you would imagine the sea and the coast often play a significant role, as do sailors and those who work on the seas. The tales are variable. The Conan Doyle is a Sherlock Holmes short story. There are a couple of variations on the love triangle, the Bram Stoker one being the best. Folklore is best represented by The Phantom Hare and The Screaming Skull is suitably creepy (and completely ridiculous of course) and there is even a potential werewolf tale (My Father’s Secret). There are a few duds, but this is a decent enough collection and takes advantage of the rugged landscape and stormy weather. 7 out of 10 Starting The Lure of Atlantis edited by Michael Wheatley
  13. October by China Mieville “The revolution of 1917 is a revolution of trains. History proceeding in screams of cold metal. The tsar’s wheeled palace, shunted into sidings forever; Lenin’s sealed stateless carriage; Guchkov and Shulgin’s meandering abdication express; the trains criss-crossing Russia heavy with desperate deserters; the engine stoked by ‘Konstantin Ivanov’, Lenin in his wig, eagerly shovelling coal. And more and more will come: Trotsky’s armoured train, the Red Army’s propaganda trains, the troop carriers of the Civil War. Looming trains, trains hurtling through trees, out of the dark. Revolutions, Marx said, are the locomotives of history. ‘Put the locomotive into top gear’, Lenin exhorted himself in a private note, scant weeks after October, ‘and keep it on the rails.’ But how could you keep it there if there really was only one true way, one line, and it is blocked? ‘I have gone where you did not want me to go.’ In” This is China Mieville’s account of the Russian Revolution. Each chapter covers a month from February to October with an introduction that sets the scene. This is a narrative account and not a scholastic or academic treatise. Mieville has read pretty widely. His reading includes academic historians of all political persuasions and the polemical texts written at the time. Mieville does have a point of view but the account is balanced. The story telling is good and I suppose being a novelist helps in that respect. He manages to be fair to all the participants. It’s very readable and in itself the story is dramatic. There are limits to this work. Mieville has looked at works in English and translated into English and has not looked at the extensive documentation in the Russian language. Mieville’s approach is not dualist and there is nuance. He does focus on St Petersburg (Petrograd as it was then) primarily. There is an enormous literature on the Russian Revolution, but the strength of this contribution is that it was written by a story teller. He is happy to address the messiness and dynamism of the process. There is a significant sense of movement in the work and quite a lot on the role of trains in the revolution! Mieville himself was aware of the challenges: “What I was constantly aware of was trying to mediate between specifics and generalities. One of the things I try to stress all the way through the book and in discussions is that this is very specifically a story of a particular place—Russia—in a particular time—1917. There is a line to walk: the story isn’t simply a curio of that moment, but equally one wants to try to avoid a kind of kitsch, “as then, so now” reductionism. So a key point is constantly being aware of the concrete particularities of that moment that you’re writing about.” Mieville is also very aware of what might have been and reflects on some of the changes that occurred as a result, but sadly did not last: “October, for an instant, brings a new kind of power. Fleetingly, there is a shift towards workers’ control of production and the rights of peasants to the land. Equal rights for men and women in work and in marriage, the right to divorce, maternity support. The decriminalization of homosexuality, 100 years ago. Moves towards national self-determination. Free and universal education, the expansion of literacy. And with literacy comes cultural explosion, a thirst to learn, the mushrooming of universities and lecture series and adult schools. A change in the soul, as Lunacharsky might put it, as much as in the factory. And though those moments are snuffed out, reversed, become bleak jokes and memories all too soon, it might have been otherwise.” Mieville is particularly strong on explaining Lenin’s role and the nature of the movement all of those involved were riding; it was essentially a revolution from below. This is a good account of the October Revolution related by a good storyteller. 8 out of 10 Starting Citizen Clem by John Bew
  14. The Seven Pillars of Wisdom by T E Lawrence “My proper share was a minor one, but because of a fluent pen, a free speech, and a certain adroitness of brain, I took upon myself, as I describe it, a mock primacy. In reality I never had any office among the Arabs, was never in charge of the British mission with them…. So I had to join the conspiracy, and, for what my word was worth, assured the men of their reward. In our two years’ partnership under fire they grew accustomed to believing me and to think my Government, like myself, sincere. In this hope they performed some fine things but, of course, instead of being proud of what we did together, I was continually and bitterly ashamed.” This is not an easy book to review. The film is much better known. The film is a magnificent piece of cinematography (as well as being endless), but it focuses much more on Lawrence than the book does. The book is a chronological account of Lawrence’s time in Arabia in the last two years of the war. It isn’t just a then I did this, then I did that account. Lawrence describes the minutiae of daily lie, food, customs, tribal relations, the idiosyncrasies of camels and the pitfalls of desert travel. We now know many things that Lawrence did not. He suspected that the British and the French would betray the Arabs after the war, but hoped they wouldn’t. We know now that was the intention all along. The Balfour Declaration of November 1917 meant the British government had promised the Jews a homeland in Palestine. As Koestler said “One nation solemnly promised to a second nation, the country of a third”. Palestine was ninety percent Arab. Churchill expressed it more succinctly: “I do not agree that a dog in a manger has the final right to the manger even though he may have lain there for a very long time… I do not admit that a wrong has been done to the Red Indians of America or the black people of Australia. I do not admit that a wrong has been done to these people by the fact that a stronger race, a higher grade race, a more worldly-wise race… has come in and taken their place.” Enough of the imperialists for now. The title is from the Book of Proverbs: “Wisdom hath builded her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars” The book was written and rewritten. Lawrence lost most of the first draft at Reading railway station in 1919 and had to start again. Lawrence had kept notes whilst all this happened and wrote again. It is a very personal version of events and stands alongside similar accounts from the Western Front. Lawrence was illegitimate, the son of a baronet and a governess and had trained as an archaeologist. He was involved in the peace conferences after the war and became disillusioned (more disillusioned). He hated the publicity and his notoriety. Lawrence re-enlisted under a different name. He died young (46) in a motorcycle accident. One of the many questions has always been was Lawrence queer. To my reading it would seem so, he was clearly much more at ease in the company of men. The book’s dedication is a poem to SA, possibly Selim Ahmed, written by Lawrence: I loved you, so I drew these tides of Men into my hands And wrote my will across the Sky in stars To earn you freedom, the seven Pillared worthy house, That your eyes might be Shining for me When I came Death seemed my servant on the Road, 'til we were near And saw you waiting: When you smiled and in sorrowful Envy he outran me And took you apart: Into his quietness Love, the way-weary, groped to your body, Our brief wage Ours for the moment Before Earth's soft hand explored your shape And the blind Worms grew fat upon Your substance Men prayed me that I set our work, The inviolate house, As a memory of you But for fit monument I shattered it, Unfinished: And now The little things creep out to patch Themselves hovels In the marred shadow Of your gift. Lawrence also recounts his capture by the Turks, his rape and torture, which did have a profound effect on him. Lawrence is complex personality. He is serving his country with ambivalence. He is not an innocent, but is naïve. He respected the Arabs and their culture, but still did what he did knowing that is was possible, even likely that the Allied powers would betray the Arab uprising. It’s a fascinating account and it is difficult to assess how much is absolutely true. Nevertheless it is worth reading. The imperialism is present, but Lawrence’s role has nuance (unlike Churchill’s). 7 out of 10 Starting Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck
  15. Chouette by Claire Oschetsky “I begin to understand what a gift I've been given, to have been chosen for this task. The truth overwhelms me, and humbles me. The birds are telling me that my life's work, as your mother, will be to teach you how to be yourself- and to honor however much of the wild world you have in you, owl-baby- rather than mold you to be what I want you to be, or what your father wants you to be.” A really fabulous book about motherhood, difference, disability, non-conformity, neuro divergence and it really is a fable (and parable). Tiny is married to an intellectual property lawyer when she becomes pregnant by her owl-lover. There is magic realism and feminism here: “How could such a thing come to pass between woman and owl?” Tiny has an owl baby which she chooses to rear, despite her husband’s fears, he thinks surgery is required. Chouette (the feminine for owl in French) is taught to hunt and follow her instincts. There are ups and downs for Tiny as her husband and his family try to impose conformity and normalcy. Music is central as well as Tiny is a cellist and there is a list of music at the end of the novel. Tiny sees wonder and beauty in her daughter whilst society sees problems, difference and something to be treated or cured. The husband wheels in experts, therapies and approaches but science and theory just aren’t right for Chouette. The second person narration works well and there is a vein of humour: “Housekeeping is nothing more than a losing encounter with entropy” There are powerful contrasts and descriptions and it is very much Tiny and Chouette against the world. Even from just after birth when Chouette is in an incubator: “My poor girl’s wings are bruised and battered from beating against her box. She is alone and afraid. I lift off the top of the box and I pick her up. Alarms begin to sound. My daughter’s eyes are still closed and she is rooting about blindly and her skin is covered in black natal down. I hold her to my breast and she begins to feed.” This is published by Virago in the UK and is well worth looking up. 9 out of 10 Starting Washington Black by Esi Edugyan
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