Criticism

Noah

Posted by

0

My wife and I went to see the film Noah on Saturday.  I’m sure we were both a bit sceptical about it, having seen some of the reviews beforehand.  Most of the reviews seemed to focus on whether or not the film was faithful to the Bible story, and whether of not this faithfulness (or lack of it) mattered.

Since both of us tend to view the Bible story of Noah as a rather charming fairy tale (which does not add to or subtract from our religious beliefs), we weren’t particularly concerned about the faithfulness issue.

Certainly, the cinematography in the film is spectacular: thousands of animals, thousands of sinful people, an absolutely gigantic ark, a colossal storming of the ark, a horrendous flood, etc.  And the acting seemed credible enough.

Neither of us particularly liked the Watchers: giants assembled from what looked like huge pieces of cold lava, who were apparently sent by the Creator to see what the human race was up to.  For me, the Watchers seemed to clash with the rest of the characters and scenery in the film, all of which seemed quite natural.  In fact, I thought: why include them at all?  The Creator could certainly see for himself what the human race was up to: mostly no good.

The other point that didn’t work for me was that Noah believed his mission from the Creator was to save only the animals: that he and his family would die, too.  I suppose, ingrained in my mind, is the notion that the point of the fairy tale is that God destroyed the wicked people, but He started again with Noah’s family.  In the film, only the oldest of Noah’s sons, Shem, has a wife.  Ham tries to take a wife, but Noah prevents it, and Japheth is too young.  The film character of Noah believes that he must kill the child of Shem’s pregnant wife in order that mankind will eventually die out (as he believes the Creator wishes).  Certainly, this adds some excitement to the plot.  The other bit of excitement is that the king of the evil-doers manages to get onto the ark and avoid the flood. This leads to some arguments, soul-searching and fighting.

I found myself thinking about the evolution of the art of film-making as compared to the art of writing novels.  Noah, it seems to me, is representative of modern films in two respects: the use of technology in cinematography to produce visual effects that were beyond the comprehension of film makers thirty years ago; and, the exposure of raw and profound human emotion.  By way of comparison, I’m watching Sea Devils, a mediocre-at-best, 1953 film starring Rock Hudson and Yvonne De Carlo, set in the Napoleonic era.  There are no special effects and, by today’s standards, the acting is pretty wooden.  Even the feelings of betrayal of a lover are expressed with only a few words and a pout.  In a film today, feelings of betrayal would be compounded with other issues and expressed with violence and shouting.

As to the art of writing (and publishing) novels, the technological changes have been in the evolution of the e-book and in print-on-demand publishing.  Neither of these technologies existed thirty years ago.  And, it seems to me, writers are mining more complex human emotions, and are presenting them more graphically than ever before.

Recent Award

Posted by

0

Sable Shadow and The Presence just received its sixth literary award: Reader’s Choice Awards 2014: Honourable Mention, Memoir/ Autobiography/Biography.  I am grateful for the recognition, but I’m not sure Sable Shadow and The Presence fits into the Memoir/Autobiography/Biography category.  As fiction, it isn’t an autobiography, and while my dictionary doesn’t say so, I think that, in common usage, the subject of a memoir or biography is a real person, living or dead.  Any way, thank you, Reader’s Choice.

Four of the awards were presented in Hollywood on the 22nd of March.  If Hollywood were a bit less than a 10 hour flight away, I might have gone to receive the awards.  I tried to call on family members in the vicinity of Hollywood to attend on my behalf, without success.  If someone had been able to attend for me, and if they wanted to know what to say in the way of an acceptance speech, I would have given them the gist of my acceptance at the London Book Festival (fifth award – runner-up – general fiction), which was:

When I started to write Sable Shadow and The Presence, I had in mind writing it in the first person (as a fictional autobiography) – something I had never done before.  I also wanted the story to be about a person, who, as a child, hears voices that he eventually attributes to representatives of God and the devil.  I wrote about four chapters and sent them to a friend of mine who is very well educated, a reader of quality literature and quite direct in his views on matters of interest.  He sent me an email a couple of weeks later in which he said: “Boring!”

I had to admit that I saw his point, and I, too, was struggling with the book.  I put it aside, and I wrote The Iranian Scorpion.  But, I still felt that, hidden in the basic idea, was a good book.  By the time The Iranian Scorpion was finished, I had some new ideas to add to the abandoned manuscript.  I wanted to say some things about existentialism, human identity, tragedy, religion and relationships.  So, I developed a new outline, re-wrote the first four chapters and finished the novel.  It was edited and published.  I decided to give the printer’s proof copy to my friend Peter, who had thought that my aborted attempt was ‘Boring!”‘.  About three days later, I got an email from him in which he said: “Congratulations Bill!  An outstanding achievement!  I couldn’t put it down, meals no meals, I swallowed the book in two days. Your prose has become self assured. you dominate it, rather  than being dominated by it.  The research, as ever is superb, and also completely open to being understood by the layman. . . . You have certainly managed to recreate  life as it is lived – even to the pertinent introduction of the meta-physical element – though a bit wobbly in spots, it stands solid, protected by Sartre. . . . I like it and feel close to it – I guess that’s one of the reasons why I think it such a  remarkable creation.  Your progressive development of style, skills and plot makes my mouth water for the goodies to come.Thank you from me, but really from all your readers.”

In London, I said I wanted to thank Peter for his two critiques, but, in particular, for the first critique.  And I thanked the London Book Festival for their selection.

Review: Midnight Rumba

Posted by

0

Eduardo Santiago’s novel, Midnight Rumba, was runner-up in the New England Book Festival’s 2013 General Fiction category.  I decided to buy a copy and read it, because it is set in the 1950’s Cuba (Mr Santiago’s native country), and my wife and I were going to Cuba for a ten day holiday.

The principal characters are Estelita, the daughter and only child of Esteban, a charming, itinerant musician, who is part of a minor, travelling circus; Aspirrina, an inept dancer who becomes a sort of surrogate mother to Estelita; Juan Carlos, an orphan boy who makes good in the gaudy world of Havana casinos; and Lasky, the American who runs the casino where Estelita and Juan Carlos work.  There are other characters, as well: various circus performers, Delfino, a homosexual from a wealthy family. Maria, also from a rich family but now the mother superior in a convent, and Delfino’s two lovers.

The plot is that  Esteban slides into helpless, violent alcoholism.  Aspirrina and Estelita escape to Havana, where Estelita becomes lead dancer in a casino and has a part in a minor Mexican movie.  In spite of the hedonistic world around her, Estelita retains her purity until she falls in love with Juan Carlos.  From the time she leaves her father in the hospital, Estelita is determined to retrieve her father from the hospital and make a home for him.  As the novel unfolds, Fidel Castro and his rebels close in on Havana.  Some of the characters side with the rebels, others try to remain loyal to Batista, the dictator.  At the end, Estelita reconnects with her now sober father and becomes a minor, provincial dancer.

The book does an excellent job in depicting Cuba at that time: the wild indulgence, the crazy glamour, and also the desperate poverty.  The brutality of the Batista regime (and of the rebels) is also clear.

The novel started off as an 800 page manuscript; as published, it is 414 pages.  At times the story-telling gets bogged down in detail, so that it could well have benefitted from another 100 pages of editing.  Eduardo Santiago’s writing style is clear, friendly, and innovative, but occasionally, one has the feeling that he is hurrying to tell the story, and then the language becomes too ordinary.

I enjoyed reading the book, particularly as I was in Cuba at the time.  For me, it fleshed out the history of the beautiful (but now crumbling) infrastructure of Havana.  I could better understand the people, as well.  But after I finished reading Midnight Rumba, I felt the absence of a message – particularly from a native Cuban now living in the States.  Perhaps it was just intended to be – without commentary – a very good historical story.

What Makes a Good Novel?

Posted by

0

In her blog, Words in the Kitchen Sink, Jane Heiress asks: What makes a good novel?

She got quite a few responses, some of which I have selectively included in quotation marks under the below categories.

Is it character development?  “This one is crucial. I tend to love characters that have similar personalities, ideals, or experiences as I do myself or someone I love. I don’t care nearly as much about plot or setting as I do about being able to love at least one character. Really, almost every other one of my preferences can be ignored, if an author can create a strong connection between me and a character. Maybe I’m narrow-minded, but I think most best-sellers find a trait or feeling that almost everyone can personally connect with.  Along the same lines, how does an author make me love a flawed character? One way is by giving him or her flaws that I have myself. I have many quirks that other people may see as “flaws,” but I consider ‘personality traits.’ Even when a character is truly flawed, I’ll give them more mercy if I can empathize with them.”

Memorable archetypes?  “I’m not too strong on archetypes, so I won’t comment on that one. I think the best fantasy novels use the archetypes in new ways, like what Tolkien did by making a hobbit a hero, or what Robin McKinley does with her awkward, misfit female warriors.”  Personally, I try to avoid archetypes.
Neat and logical plot?  I’m not sure a plot, to be successful, has just got to be neat and logical.  Slightly messy and somewhat illogical could make it captivating.  The plot is very important: it is the device which conveys the story and its meaning.  To my mind a plot should be believable, it should be original and it should be interesting.
Unpackaged realism?  “I think that realism has a place in a good novel, but to write a novel with the sole aim to expose reality is actually a very bad idea. If you want reality, you read the newspaper–though I guess it’s all about difference in taste, because journalists in general just can’t write, so if you want realism written in a coherent, logical, and truly unbiased way, you’re kind of up a creek. Anyway, the whole reason we read is so that we can feel like we’re not alone without actually surrendering our own sense of individuality (I stole that from C.S. Lewis). So there has to be enough of reality in a novel to help us feel that the characters might have the same sort of feeling we do when faced with tragic or happy life events.”
Societal issues?   “Societal issues are important if not too heavy-handed.  Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote Uncle Tom’s Cabin as an expose on slavery in the South, and it was very effective, but have you read that book?  I would hardly call it good, except as an expose on slavery, and if you want that, you could read the Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, or other first-hand accounts of former slaves.  Much more powerful.”
Moral lessons?  “Moral lessons don’t belong in a good novel.  They can be part of a novel, but if that’s the focus, I put the novel down and read the scriptures.”  I agree except that I think that ethical dilemmas have a place in a novel.  Ethical issues are more uncertain than moral issues, and are more subject to interpretation of the situation.  They therefore tend to involve the heart and mind of the reader.
Richness of setting?  “Richness of setting is very important.  Novels with a strong sense of place and circumstance are usually good.  Even though sometimes reading through the descriptions can be tedious.”  I’m not convinced that a setting has to be ‘rich’ to add importance.  In my opinion, it is more important for a setting to be both credible and interesting.
Quality of prose?  “Quality of prose is essential.  I mean, really, the only reason anyone reads The Great Gatsby is because the words are sparkly and fluid and they practically float off the page.  Jane Austen has beautiful sentences; Charles Dickens plays games with grammar as part of his subplots; Chaim Potok paints murals with words, so reading one of his novels is almost like going to an art gallery; Geoge Eliot uses such quality of phrasing that you can’t help loving the words she chooses to describe something.
Suspense?  Dramatic intensity? “Suspense is important, but I get bored if there’s too much of it.  I don’t guess ahead, and if you pack in the action and tension too heavily, I disengage and go on to something that unfolds more gradually.  I’m going to combine this one with dramatic intensity and use a movie as an example.  I don’t like action flicks because sometimes they go too fast and too much happens at once.  It’s not that I’m too dumb to follow it, but the high-speed car chases and stuff are not the substance of a story for me, so if there’s too much of that, I’m finished. There’s also a book out now, by James Patterson, a new series for teens, that is non-stop action.  Kids like it, but I thought it was second-rate, just because there wasn’t any good character development and his sentence structure was severely lacking in quality.  Robin McKinley sometimes goes the other way and tries to turn her high-speed moments of tension into epic poems.  It doesn’t work either.  J.K. Rowling’s action scenes work very well, mostly because they’re short.”
Comedy?  No one commented on this. I think that if one is writing a serious novel, rather than a comedy, comedy can have a place: either as a device to relieve tension for the reader, or to shed light on a character.  If suspense goes on too long, as the comment above suggests, the reader can lose interest.  Or, if a character says or does something funny, one sees a new dimension of him or her.
Emotional response?  “As for emotional response, if you can’t get emotionally involved with a book, it isn’t worth reading.”  Agreed!
Expanding intellectual horizons?  “When you’re trying to expand someone’s intellectual horizons, that’s tricky.  Any book worth reading will not do that on purpose, because no-one likes to feel dumb, or to feel like they’re being taught something.  A book that expands your intellectual horizons will do it in a painless way–too many new ideas too fast will not make a lasting impression.  The important thing is that a book will set itself up on familiar turf, then take your ideas to the next level.”

.

 

 

Review: The Shadow of the Crescent Moon

Posted by

0

The Shadow of the Crescent Moon is the first novel by Fatima Bhutto, who is the granddaughter of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, the former President and Prime Minister of Pakistan, whose sister was Benazir Bhutto.  Fatima Bhutto graduated from Columbia University in 2004.  She lives in Karachi, and is a freelance writer.  Interestingly, her website does not mention this book.  Instead, it mentions three other books.  Judging by one article on her website, she seems to be a political radical.

The Shadow of the Crescent Moon is an interesting novel, relatively brief and quite intense.  It is set in the tribal region of northwest Pakistan and involves three brothers who are preparing to celebrate Eid, the Muslim feast at the end of Ramadan.  The oldest son has decided to leave his childhood sweetheart and go into business away from his home town of Mir Ali.  The middle son has become a doctor in Mir Ali and the youngest has joined his brother’s sweetheart as an insurgent.  In the novel, Mir Ali is the focal point for the armed struggle between Pakistan’s army and local people who crave their own freedom.

Fatima Bhutto does a very good job describing the culture, the issues, the people and the setting.  One gets the sense of a long-running, life-and-death struggle in the northwest of Pakistan.  It is clear that the author’s sentiments are with the insurgents.

I found the novel frustrating in the sense that it lacks focus.  There is an insurgent plot to kill a minister, and the story seems to be headed to a climax there, but the novel ends in uncertainty.  Was he killed?  Who killed him?  Or if not, why not?  There is some uncertainty as to who the insurgents are.  Some are Taliban; some are ordinary people.  What is the relationship between them?  The Pakistani government is clearly an evil influence, but in a book like this which is somewhat polemical, it would be a redeeming feature to hint more broadly at what the government should do differently (other than bringing in local conscripts).  There are also some religious issues: notably Sunnis vs. Shiites, but there are problems for Christians and Hindus, as well.  How do these issues fit into the over-arching themes of justice and freedom?

Ms. Bhutto’s writing in quite engaging.  Occasionally, there is a too long sentence which requires a second reading to gain understanding.  And, like all ‘young, modern authors’ she likes to use unconventional words rather than the conventional.  Mostly, this works well, but there is the occasional grating which disturbs the flow.  The characterisation of the two older brothers, the female sweetheart and the Pakistani colonel are all clear and intriguing.  The character of the youngest brother – the insurgent – is somewhat opaque.  We can understand why the two older brothers do what they do, but what – apart from his father’s lectures – motivates this brother to be an insurgent?

An interesting book and a particularly interesting author. I’m sure we’ll hear more from her!

Is Surveillance Undemocratic?

Posted by

0

There is an article in yesterday’s Daily Telegraph as follows:

“More than 500 of the world’s leading authors have condemned the scale of state surveillance, warning that spy agencies are undermining democracy.  In a statement the writers from 81 different countries, including British authors Julian Barnes, Ian McEwan, Irvine Welsh, and Martin Amis, call for an international charter enshrining digital rights.  The authors warn that the extent of surveillance has undermined people’s right to “remain unobserved and unmolested” in their communications.

“This fundamental right has been rendered null and void through abuse of technological developments by states and corporations for mass surveillance purposes,” it says.

“A person under surveillance is no longer free; a society under surveillance is no longer a democracy.  To maintain any validity, our democratic rights must apply in virtual as well as in real space. . . . Surveillance is theft.  . . . . This data is not public property.  It belongs to us.  When it is used to predict our behaviour, we are robbed of something else – the principle of free will crucial to democratic liberty.”

The statement comes after eight of the biggest technical companies formed an alliance to call on Barack Obama, the American president to reform surveillance laws.  Google, Apple, Facebook, Twitter, AOL, Microsoft, LinkedIn and Yahoo have united to form a group called Reform Government Surveillance, marking the first time competing companies have presented a united front.

From what I have read about Reform Government Surveillance, it seems to make a lot of sense.  But I have major reservations about the language used by the authors in their statement.

Reform Government Surveillance seeks five areas of reform:

1. The government should codify sensible limits on surveillance, limiting surveillance to known users and eliminating bulk surveillance.

2. Executive powers should be subject to strong checks and balances.

3. Government should be transparent: it should allow companies to report demands for data and it should promptly disclose the data publicly.

4. Governments should not restrict the international flow of data.

5. Legal conflicts between different government jurisdictions should be eliminated.

I have no problem with these five reforms, but, for example, where do people get the right to “remain unobserved and unmolested in their communications”?  If we speak publicly, we give up the right to be private and unobserved.  Just ask any celebrity who’s made a mistake on Twitter (or any other public place for that matter): are they unobserved?  No!  Are they unmolested?  They may not feel like it.  Hasn’t the person who wrote this statement for the authors heard of libel or slander laws?

“A person under surveillance is not longer free.”  Strictly speaking, this is true, but does it pass the ‘so what?’ test?  Where in the US Constitution or in the Declaration of Independence is there mention of ‘freedom from surveillance’ (or observation).  No civilized society can function without its citizens being able to observe the behaviour of others.  For a starter, we would have no witnesses in court.

“Surveillance is theft” . . . and when it happens, “we are robbed . . . of the principle of free will”.  There is a leap of logic in here somewhere.  It sounds a little like the existentialist concept of ‘Other’, but even the existentialists believed in free will.

You may have read about the trial currently underway in London of two Islamic terrorists who are on trial for murdering and trying to butcher a UK soldier in the street.  One was a Christian who converted to Islam.  In his defence (he denies murder, but admits killing the soldier) he said that he is a ‘soldier’ (he never served in the military), and that Allah told him to kill a soldier in revenge for all the Muslims who have been killed.  Can we afford, as a society, to overlook the behaviour of people like that?  I don’t think so.  I agree with the eight technical companies, but not with my fellow authors.

By the way, if I had been the prosecutor in the above trial, I would have asked the defendant two questions:

One: did he ever consider the possibility, as a religious person who believes in God and knows about the devious, lying devil, that it was the devil, not God, who gave him the instruction?

Two: has he studied the Qur’an sufficiently to understand, as most Muslims do, that to kill someone is a major sin?

 

 

 

Review: Blue Is the Warmest Color

Posted by

0

My wife and I saw Blue Is the Warmest Color last Friday night.  You may have read that this is the movie with the extended, explicit lesbian love scenes (it carries an 18 rating in the UK).

As I reflected on the film later, it occurs to me that the task of a director, together with those of the actors, are analogous to that of a writer.  In both cases, the artists are striving to tell a story in a way that has unique and special meaning for the audience.  In this respect, Blue is extraordinarily successful: the directing and the acting have an extremely strong effect on the audience.  One cannot help but feel, and sympathise completely with the characters.  The story, itself, provides a firm foundation; it is based on a novel by Julie Maroh: a fifteen-year-old girl of modest circumstances falls in love with an older, middle class, intellectual artist.  But it is the fiery passions of the two characters that make the picture really memorable.  It is the direction of Abdellatif Kechiche, and the acting of Adèle Exarchopoulos (as Adèle, the student) and Léa Seydoux (as Emma, the artist) which give the film its memorable power.  Whatever else you may have heard about this film, in my opinion it is worth seeing just to marvel at the acting and the direction.  (I think it is shameful that after the film won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival there was a rather public falling out amongst the actresses and the director.)

This is not to say that the film does not have its flaws.  It’s running time is three hours and seven minutes, and while it is largely successful in carrying its emotional energy that long, I think it would have been more effective had it been edited more rigorously.  At the same time, I felt that a little more attention should have been given to the loneliness which Adèle feels later in the relationship.  She cheats on Emma with a male colleague, and says that she was lonely.  It’s believable, but we were given no evidence of it.  While the average viewer will understand, almost at the outset, that this is a relationship which has no basis in shared values, experiences or goals, it is this lack of shared identity which makes the failure of the relationship so tragic.  The emphasis in the film is on the dramatic break-up.  But it is not the break-up, itself which is the tragedy; it is the causes of the break-up that are tragic.

So, what about the explicit sex scenes?  One of the scenes lasts seven minutes.  Some reviewers have commented that the sex scenes should have been shorter.  In my opinion, the scenes are not erotic.  (While the actresses are fully nude, there were no female genitalia visible.)  There were two absolutely gorgeous female bodies, and the passionate lust was almost palpable!  I read that the author, Julie Maroh, said that the scenes would strike a lesbian audience as ‘ridiculous’.  Maybe so, but for me, they made the point that these women are deeply in love.

If you have a chance, I think that Blue Is the Warmest Color is a film worth seeing.

Judges’ Commentary: The Iranian Scorpion

Posted by

0

I submitted The Iranian Scorpion to the Writer’s Digest Self-Published Book Awards.  It did not win an award; there were 2,800 books submitted.  But, I did receive the judges rating which is as follows:

On a scale of 1 to 5, where 1 is “needs improvement” to 5 “outstanding”:

Structure & Organisation: 3

Grammar: 3

Product Quality & Cover Design: 3

Plot: 3

Character Development: 3

The judges commentary is:

While this is an interesting package overall, there is room for improvement.  The cover image itself is striking.  The typography is strong and the contrast is good.  The layout works well as does the color palette.  The title on the spine would be easier to read, as would the author’s name, if the map were screened back more (this is also true of the cover).  The back cover copy is well-written and intriguing, as jacket copy should be.  The author bio on the back cover is well-written, as well.  Paper quality is good, especially on the interior.  The interior design is practical and appealing, and the text is very easy to read.

The Story:

This novel has a lot to recommend it.  The writing is good; the voice is strong.  The Middle Eastern setting is fascinating, as is the drug trade milieu in which the story takes place.  Most important, the author has a great story to tell and he tells it in a way that gives the story the ring of authenticity.  The hero is likable, as is the heroine.  The supporting cast is colorful and well-drawn.  The plot is fast-moving.  That said, the author slips in an out of point of view.  He also tend to write in elemental chunks: Here’s a chunk that’s mostly all description, followed by a chunk that’s all narrative/backstory; then a chunk that’s all dialogue/action, etc.  When the author masters the art of writing fully imagined scenes that balance character, dialogue, action, narrative, inner monologue and setting – all the elements woven together seamlessly – he’ll be a writer to watch.  A final note: Using different font to indicate a foreign language does not work and it is very distracting to the reader.

My response:

I would have appreciated some differentiation in the numerical scores.  Everything as a three doesn’t tell me where the strengths and weaknesses are.  I take the point about writing in chunks.  I acknowledge that I have done that in the past, and the point about weaving all the elements together is a good one.  I’m working on it!  I’m not so clear about what is meant by ‘slips in an out of point of view’.  There is the narrator’s point of view (which, in the case of this novel, I’ve tried to keep neutral and factual) and a character’s point of view (which may be biased and subjective.)  Does it mean that there is ambiguity about the point of view?  In which case, I’ve got to watch out not to let that happen, because it would be confusing to the reader.  I think I may present differing points of view of two (or more characters) in a single passage.  I do this to better define the characters, and the issues between them.  I see nothing wrong with this as long as it is clear who owns a particular point of view.  I still have a bias in favour of using a different font for different languages – particularly where the language expresses a very different culture.  I don’t think I would use a different font for French or German, but somehow it seems right to distinguish a Middle Eastern language (like Pashto of Farsi with all its cultural baggage) from English.  I have to admit, though that more readers prefer a uniform font.

“Let Children Pick Their Own Books”

Posted by

0

“There is no such thing as a bad book for children,” says author Neil Gaiman, best-selling writer and Carnegie Medal-winner.  He was delivering the second annual Reading Agency lecture at London’s Barbican on October 14.  He said that compelling children to read books deemed appropriate by adults will leave them convinced that reading is ‘uncool and unpleasant’. . . There are no bad authors for children that children like and want to read and seek out, because every child is different. . . . They can find the stories they need to, and they bring themselves to stories.  A hackneyed worn-out idea isn’t hackneyed or worn out to them.  This is the first time the child has encountered it. . . . Do not discourage children from reading because you feel they are reading the wrong thing.  Fiction you do not like is the gateway drug to other books you may prefer. . . . Well-meaning adults can easily destroy a child’s love  of reading: stop them reading what they enjoy, or give them worthy-but-dull books that you like, the 21st-century equivalents of Victorian ‘improving’ literature.”  My own recent experience with children’s reading involves my grandchildren.  In Sicily this past summer, I brought along two illustrated books: one of Aesop’s fables and the other of fairy tales.  After dinner, I offered to read to them.  One grandson, in particular, was very keen to listen.  He would select one book or the other, pick out a particular story, and comment on it after I had read it (or even during the reading).  His younger brother and sister were interested, initially, but they preferred other occupations. More recently, I read bedtime stories to two other grandsons, aged 5 and 3.  They each picked out a book they wanted me to read.  (They had to take turns.)  The older one picked out a child’s book that would have been difficult for a thirteen-year-old to follow.  (It was a compilation of ancient fairy tales in ancient language.)  I pointed out that it maybe he wouldn’t like it so much, but he insisted that I carry on with the reading, perhaps because he wanted to get an idea of what older children liked to read.  After about the third tale, he selected another book.  His younger brother wanted to be read to, also, but his idea of being read to was to explore illustrated pop-up books, and comment on them. I can remember when I was about thirteen, there was a paperback novel called The Amboy Dukes in which my classmates were highly interested.  I was told, when I finally got a copy, was that the cover illustration was two teenagers having sex.  This seemed rather doubtful, as both the boy and the girl were dressed.  I remember showing the book to my mother, and pointing out the cover illustration.  She, too, was sceptical, but she made no other comment.  But, I decided to read it, in case there were salacious sections.  There weren’t.  It was boring.  King Arthur was much more interesting.

Review: Restless

Posted by

0

William Boyd’s Restless won the Costa Novel Award in 2006, and when I found a copy in our small library in Sicily (it had probably been left by a guest), I decided I had to read it.  The reviews on the cover were effusive in their praise.  For example, The Times was quoted on the front cover as saying: “Boyd is a first-rate storyteller and this is a first-rate story . . . An utterly absorbing page-turner.”

The setting of the novel is the early years of World War II, when Britain and Russia were fighting against Nazi Germany alone, and the US had not entered the war.  The central female characters are Eva Delectorskaya and her daughter, Ruth.  The chapters alternate between Ruth telling her side of the story, in the first person, from 1947 onwards, and Eva’s story being told in the third person from 1935 until 1941.  Ruth does not know her mother as Eva; she knows her as Sally Gilmartin, née Fairchild.  She also didn’t know that her mother was half Russian, half English, and was living in Paris, age 28, when the war broke out in 1939.  The principal male character is Lucas Romer, who recruits Eva into a special branch of the British Secret Service.  Eva is beautiful and fluent in Russian, English and French.  After being recruited and trained in Scotland, one expects that Eva will be parachuted into France to work alongside the French resistance.  But we learn – partly through the files that Eva/Sally passes to her daughter and partly from Eva herself – that she has been recruited into an organisation which attacks Germany through the media.  The stories that the organisation places are sometimes fabrications and sometimes exaggerations or little-noticed Nazi misdeeds. In 1940, the organisation, including Lucas and Eva, move to New York City, where their focus shifts to persuading a reluctant American people to join the war against Germany.  Eva and Lucas become lovers, and for Eva, Lucas is the perfect secret agent: brilliant, and devious, but devastatingly attractive.  Of course, they succeed in persuading the White House to go to war, but just before Pearl Harbor, Eva is sent on a mission during which she is nearly killed.  Suspecting everyone, including Lucas, she goes onto hiding: first in Canada and then in England.  Years later, as an old woman, she persuades Ruth to help her unmask the traitor.

What could be a better story?

What I particularly liked about it was the subversive activity involving the use of the media.  One wouldn’t expect media people to be literally assassins, but when one is a traitor and one has to prevent something from happening, one uses strong measures.  The daughter who doesn’t know the truth about her mother, who discovers it during the course of the novel, and who collaborates with her in realising the conclusion, is another appealing feature.  The story is very well-written – not in a literary style – but in straight-forward, clear language.

The only faults I could find were what seemed to be a little bit of ‘filler material’ about Ruth’s occupation: teaching English as a second language to business people.  I also wasn’t clear about what actually happened during Ruth’s nearly-fatal mission.  Somehow, it didn’t all fit together.

But having said that Restless is a first rate thriller, and if you decide to pick it up, be sure you haven’t any pressing engagements: it’s difficult to put it down.