a tale of bibliomania, apple trees, battle re-enactments & the seventeenth century.
Showing posts with label review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label review. Show all posts
Tuesday, 22 June 2010
REVIEW: A Hero Of Our Time by Mikhail Lermontov
For the Classics Circuit this month I choose to read Mikhail Lermontov's A Hero Of Our Time. I decided not to be obvious and stay away from my beloved Dostoevsky and ventured into new Russian territories. Many factors were in Lermontov's favour: he was the so-called heir of Pushkin and we all love our Pushkin; one of my favourite films (Un Coeur en Hiver by Claude Sautet) is a loose adaptation of one of the stories in this novella; and finally I was able to find (and afford, always very important) a copy of the translation by Vladimir Nabokov, a hero of mine since I was a teenager, so this would made a nice addition in completing his body of work.
And fortunately it was a great choice. A Hero of Our Time was an entertaining, tremendously cool book to pick up.
A Hero Of Our Time
Mikhail Lermontov (translated by Vladimir & Dmitri Nabokov)
Ardis Publishing
210 pages
Summary
A Hero Of Our Time is not so much what you would expect of a novel but more a collection of five stories surrounding the central, title character. These stories vary in length and genre, are mostly set in the Caucasian frontier and include all sorts of adventures for our hero: skirmishes with enemy soldiers, kidnapping, Russian roulette, duels, tragic love affairs. But the central character, the young officer Grigory Aleksandrovich Pechorin, is less than heroic and throughout the stories the author paints an ambiguous portrait of his hero: he is dissastisfied and bored, unfeeling towards other and often cruel - specially in his love affairs.
In the first story we see Pechorin kidnap a young Princess (in exchange for helping her brother steal a horse), making her fall in love with him only to lose all interest in her shortly, and finally somehow indirectly causing her death. Next we see Pechorin himself make an appearance, crossing paths with the narrator, but Pechorin behaves cruelly and coldly towards Maksim, an older officer who very much loved him and so both narrator and reader are left with the worst possible opinion of our hero. But then the book switches point of view and we read Pechorin's own journals - and far from trying to excuse himself Pechorin openly declares his flaws and vices, glosses over them, and recalls other incidents in which he was at fault, most notoriously a duel with another man for a woman, whom Pechorin did not really love but was merely entertaining himself with. This is a hero of our time.
Friday, 21 May 2010
REVIEW: The Go-Between
The Go-Between
L.P Hartley
401 pages
Library copy
Read for the Spotlight On... Series focusing on the New York Review Books.
In the summer of 1900 Leo Colston, a young schoolboy, is invited to spend the holidays at Brandham Hall, the country house of his friend Marcus' family, the Maudleys. Having never been out of his home for such a long time Leo, of a lower class than his hosts, soon becomes entangled with the lives of the adults in Norfolk: he gets infatuated with Marcus' older sister, Marian, and by chance becomes the messenger between the girl and a nearby farmer, Ted Burguess, who is in love with her. Marian and Ted use Leo to carry letters from one to another without the rest of the family knowing - since they have different social status their affair would not be looked upon kindly and needs to be kept a secret.
Sunday, 25 April 2010
REVIEW: The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ, by Phillip Pullman
Title: The Good Man Jesus And The Scoundrel Christ
Author: Phillip Pullman
Pages: 256
Rating: 3.5/5
Bought/Borrowed/Loaned: Read in one sitting in Foyles
SUMMARY
Joseph and Mary have twins: Jesus, healthy and strong, loved by everyone; and Christ, a sickly child with a wondruous knowledge of the word of God and His Will. They grow up and Christ realizes Jesus is just the man to lead their people to revolution, to an uprising against the invading and unfair rule of Rome. Jesus indeed does that, but the miracles are staged by Christ and his determination to give his brother good press. As Jesus grows in power and Rome begins to see him as a threat both brothers face their doubts about God, and each other.
REVIEW
The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ is the latest installment in Canongate's Myth series: books that take a well-known myth and turn in a new retelling. In that sense this is exactly what Pullman has done - he takes the familiar story of Jesus Christ and introduces a variation (Jesus and Christ as two separate people) to illuminate the themes of this myth that he is interested in. Faith and propaganda are the main lifelines of this story and though Pullman's exploration is as straightforward and light-feeted as his language in this book it is enough to pick the interest of any readers.
It's easy to see why the release of this book might have upset some Christian groups; I suggest they start by reading the book before condemning it. Granted, Pullman is an atheist and that was bound to colour the retelling of the myth. Granted, I am a deeply convinced atheist as well so the book obviously didn't hurt any sensibility here. But I also think this is a book that portrays religious faith with a deep respect. There are wonderful passages about Jesus and his love for God, despite the doubts, and of Christ and his belief on the good of the cause, both a political and religious one.
The strangerThe way Pullam uses language in this book is a very interesting method: the writing is simple and sparse, echoing the Bible stories, with their urgent sense of destiny and the divine. It makes for a short volume, very direct story-telling. That approach is the book's greatest strength and at the same time one of the reasons I could not connect with the character fully: Pullamn makes all his characters archetypes, highlighting the myth to suvert it but most of the characters in the story failed to seem like people to me. They sound like story-devices, which I guess in a way it's fitting for a book that talks to us about the advantages and dangers of storytelling, but I must admit that made it difficult for me to connect emotionally with the book. But this is one a minor quibble - perhaps I was wishing for a different book that does not exist. Christ interested me much more than Jesus (except when Jesus confronted God and His Silence in the Garden of Gethsemane) and I would have liked his issues explored in more length.
A stranger came to Christ and spoke to him privately.
"I'm interested in you," he said. "Your brother is attracting all the attention, but I think you are the one I should speak to."
"Who are you?" said Christ. "And how do you know about me? I have never spoken in public, unlike Jesus."
"I heard a story about your birth. Some shepherds saw a vision that led them to you, and some magicians from the East brought you gifts. Isn't that so?"
"Why, yes," said Christ.
"And I spoke to your mother yesterday, and she told me of what happened when John baptised Jesus. You heard a voice speaking from a cloud."
"My mother should not have spoken of that," said Christ modestly.
"And some years ago, you confounded the priests in the temple at Jerusalem when your brother got into trouble. People remember these things."
"But – who are you? And what do you want?"
"I want to make sure that you have your rightful reward. I want the world to know your name as well as that of Jesus. In fact I want your name to shine with even greater splendour. He is a man, and only a man, but you are the word of God."
"I don't know that expression, the word of God. What does it mean? And again, sir – who are you?"
"There is time, and there is what is beyond time. There is darkness, and there is light. There is the world and the flesh, and there is God. These things are separated by a gulf deeper than any man can measure, and no man can cross it; but the word of God can come from God to the world and the flesh, from light to darkness, from what is beyond time into time. Now I must go away, and you must watch and wait, but I shall come to you again."
And he left. Christ had not found out his name, but the stranger had spoken with such knowledge and clarity that Christ knew, without having to ask, that he was an important teacher, no doubt a priest, perhaps from Jerusalem itself. After all, he had mentioned the incident in the temple, and how else would he have heard about it?
I love Pullman's writing, I have for many years (since I was a teenager and Northern Lights came out in a Spanish translation), and here the simple and humble, almost naked style has the loveliness of certain religious painting (I'm think of Murillo and Zurbarán here, the brown tones, the confident brush-strokes, the overwhelming compassion of the images) and although I think this is the weakest book in the Myth series (but then again I love Jeanette Winterson and Margaret Atwood more than I do Pullman) The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ is worth a reading, about the power of the Word of God but also about how men create the Word and the purposes it serves.
A story about stories.
More: There is a fantastic and deep review of the book at Things Mean A Lot (a book blog I highly recommend), which made me want to read the book immediately. Visit.
Sunday, 18 April 2010
REVIEW: Music And Silence, by Rose Tremain
Title: Music and Silence
Author: Rose Tremain
Pages: 464
Rating: 4.5/5
Bought/Borrowed/Loaned: Bought 2nd hand from amazon.co.uk
SUMMARY
Music and Silence is many things, encompasses many stories and moments, fleeting, magical, painful moments. But at its centre is Peter Claire, an English lute player who arrives in the court of King Christian IV of Denmark in 1630. The king soon takes a liking to Peter, calling him his "angel" due to Peter's good looks, and asking the Englishman to be his personal aide and help in times of need. Christian is a contradictory man, haunted by the past, pained by his unrequited love for his wife the Queen Kirsten, who is conducting a not-so-discreet adulterous affair. A mirror image of Peter's role the queen has employed a new lady-in-waiting at the time of Peter's arrival in Denmark: Emilia Tilsen, a quiet and compassionate girl, becomes the queen's confidant. Both Peter and Emilia are escaping from their painful pasts and find themselves, almost inevitably, drawn to each other, seeking love and comfort amidts the royal intrigues and the sorrows of a country in ruin.
REVIEW
The biggest strength of Music and Silence is its kaleidoscopic nature. The accumulation of stories, small in scope or important, like grains of sand that together make up the true landscape of this work. The point of view changes and so do the narrative voices, and the non-chronological plot made me enjoy this book so much, in a way that I had not enjoyed Restoration - maybe the voice in that one was too detached, too clever to begin with, and while that fitted the narrator perfectly, I felt it lacked some heart. There's plenty of heart in Music and Silence, and while occassionally sentimentaly shows its ugly head but otherwise Tremain has an admirable command of her material. Many images will stick to the reader's mind: for me it's the teenage King Christian tending to his best friend Bror during his illness, fighting off Death with the power of writing, the power of names, words.
As a historical novel, which what we are interested in now, this is an example of what should be done: a story told in a shamelessly modern style, which illuminates the 17th century through human detail and lyricism, not dead fact. The gorgeous writing, rather than the predictable character or the thin plot, is what grabs us here. A fine example of literary novel in a historical setting and using history for its own purposes, rather than a historical novel that dispatches literary style as useless, which sadly is what happens with almost every labelled historical novel I've met with.
Thursday, 18 March 2010
REVIEW: Saint Thomas's Eve, by Jean Plaidy
Title: Saint Thomas's Eve
Author: Jean Plaidy
Pages: 352
Rating: 2.5/5
Bought/Borrowed/Loaned: On loan from Kensington Library.
SUMMARY
The rise and (deadly) fall of Thomas More under the reign of Henry VIII is the central spine upon which the story of Jean Plaidy's Saint Thomas's Eve is constructed. More is first seen having left a life in the monastery for the possibility of starting his own family. We follow him from humble but respected lawyer and man of learning untile he becomes one of the King's most trusted advisors. The More family grows and changes as Thomas's first wife dies and he marries - children are born and adopted and we can see the love Thomas has for all of them, but particularly affectionate is his relationship with his older daughter Margaret who becomes his confidant and best friend.
For this is Margaret More's story as much as her father's. She goes from little girl to young woman, a loving and loyal companion to Thomas More. But then Henry begins his battle to divorce Queen Katherina and pursue a relationship with Anne Bolyen. The King becomes obssessed that nothing comes in the way of his desires and Thomas More becomes more and more fanatical in his religious views, the two of them colliding in a clash of faiths and wills that would send More into his unfortunate and infamous end.
REVIEW
Having finally read one Jean Plaidy book I can easily see the appeal of her novels to a wider audience. The simpleness of her prose makes for a quick, swift read and it's easy to devour the book in a couple of days. The story was easy to follow and provided with enough interest to make you want to turn the page.
That said, I must admit this kind of book wasn't my cup of tea. I read it, and I enjoyed it well enough while at it but it also frustrated me. I love historical fiction but too often I despair at how much of it is historical fiction for the sake of historical fiction and there's not enough literature in it. I will always seek literary value and style above anything else in what I read, that's why Jean Plaidy couldn't satisfy me. She is just not that much of a great writer. There is a diference between having an unintrusive voice and being colourless, and this book's prose didn't fly. A fun but underwhelming read.
The other thing that annoyed me was the use of an ommniscient narrator at times; I have real trouble with that sort of point of view, and the novel would have been much more interesting without the added psychology and the paragraphs and paragraphs about the character's inner thoughts. I liked the idea of the switching POVs but sometimes they weren't consistent and the telling of the story slipped into this omniscent narrator.
There are things I enjoyed about the book, nonetheless: I liked the portrayal of Margaret's relationship with her father, and that's the heart of the book. I felt they had good and touching scenes. It was a good thing to see how, while her feeling of devotion towards Thomas More remained untouched in Margaret as he grew up, she started questioning some of his more fanatical actions. As a side note it was a curious read, this book that portrays More as a very likeable and sympathetic character, after having read Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall, with its view of More as a dangerous extremist. Most of the story is seen through Margaret's eyes and I always have a soft spot for an external-to-the-action point of view and here it really works. The book makes good and constant use of parallel and opposite scenes - for example the scene where Henry VII decides to make Thomas More his enemy out of a grudge and the scene where newly-crowned Henry VIII warmly welcomes More and his poetry.
Bottom line, even though I had a good enough time reading this I'm not very likely to pick any other Plaidy in the future, unless the subject really interests me.
In any case, be sure to check out Jean Plaidy's Royal Intrigue (and its blog), an excellent site dedicated to the author that continues to delight.
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
REVIEW: Havoc, in its Third Year, by Ronnan Bennett

Title: Havoc, In Its Third Year
Author: Ronnan Bennett
Pages: 320
Rating: 4/5
Bought/Borrowed/Loaned: Bought at Waterstone's Notting Hill
SUMMARY
Set during the very tense times of 1630s in England Havoc opens with its protagonist, John Brigge, coroner and governor of a small, tight community in the cold north, is called to examine the case of a baby murdered by its mother, a helpless Irish woman. Brigge's own wife is about to give birth for the first time and the character is assaulted by fears and bad premonitions. The town is on the brink of war with itself, the Puritans taking over the goverment of the place and becoming more restless in their prosecution of Catholics. Brigge himself is of the "old faith" and so he only brings more suspicions upon himself when he appears determined to defend the Irish woman's innocence, searching for the truth of the crime whatever the cost.
REVIEW
A curious thing happened in reading this novel: as I was going through the pages I was liking the book, indeed enjoying it, but I didn't think too much of it in terms of quality, somehow I considere it "minor". But then in hindsight I realized I was more impressed with the book than I thought initially.
Bennett delivers an atmospheric book, easy to read and hard to forget - the sombre mood, the constant hissing of the wind, the feeling of riding in the middle of the night, in complete darkness. The writing, deceptively simple, is very powerful and paints a very believable picture of a world on the edge, a prelude of sorts to what's to come, the open Civil War. This aspect of the book was very relevant to me and my research because I felt like Bennett had succeeded in taking the reader to those years, that soil, the constant threat in the air, the thinly-veiled Puritan inquisitions, the centuries-old prejudices against the Irish... The mystery and thriller elements of the book were less interesting to me, because in general I'm not interested in those genres. It's not a perfect book: it has some false steps (the protagonist predictable relationship with the young maid) and some of the dialogue felt a bit forced in places (the authorities and their threats) but in the end it's a gorgeous book, with sharp, tight language that never makes the mistake of trying to copy 17th century speech but at the same time feels very much of the period. That is the illusion good historical novel writers should be after. That is Ronan Bennett's triumph.
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