Téa Obreht – The Tiger’s Wife

For some reason, April has been a rather quick month. Checking my blog posts, I realised today with horror that my last entry was 25th March. Aiming to leave somewhere around 1-2 weeks between posts, I hadn’t noticed that now we are at 19th APRIL and I still have 3-4 books that I want to review before April reaches its wet conclusion.

I say wet because, despite the hosepipe ban in the South of England, Newcastle is cold and wet right now. What better excuse to stay inside and work on my blog!

In all honesty I think I read The Tiger’s Wife in February or early March, but I wanted to give it a bit of time to settle in my head, and to see what other friends thought of it. Maybe I’ve now given it a bit too much time, but I’ll try harder next time. The first thing that struck me was the age of its author. She was born in 1985, which is only a year older than me, and yet she wrote this book that won the Orange Prize in 2011. Her photo in my library’s copy of the book is of a cute-faced blonde who really could be any age between 16 and 27.

I feel I have to declare: I like imagination in a book. I enjoyed Garcia Marquez and his craziness; I loved Bulgakow’s The Master and Margarita (interestingly in an amazing stage production at theBarbican last month). The Tiger’s Wife is beautiful in that respect – it tries to show the relationship between humans and animals, and at the centre of this are the wife and the tiger. I don’t want to go into the plot too much, because that actually worked for me. The observations of the villagers and their life in the village are great too. The novel has two or three different strands: the story with the tiger; the modern story of the granddaughter; and the story of the grandfather and the deathless man. For me, these just didn’t quite gel. It felt inexperienced somehow. Maybe this was due to the mixture of time periods. It kept me going right until the end, but I didn’t come away feeling I knew anybody in the story any better. Perhaps it was the mixture of the epic family saga and the short novel form with its fantastical elements.

I would however read other things by Obreht. It has taught me to watch out for her, because if she were to produce a more substantial work, that would be a killer. What did other people think? Was this the right choice forlast year’s Orange?

Jenseitsnovelle/Next World Novella

The premise seems familiar from the abundance of police thrillers on our screens: A man comes in to find his wife sitting at his desk, looking beautiful, but as he moves closer we all realise that the figure at the desk is in fact dead.  Here the similarities with all those TV dramas end.  Instead of collapsing with grief or calling some sort of official, the husband finds himself reading the last words she was writing.  Words of recrimination, words condemning him.  Notes in the margin of an old manuscript from the beginning of a novel of his.  The husband is compelled to read and he cannot ignore it or answer back:

„Es half nichts, er mußte lesen.  Gut, er hätte vielleicht erst einmal die Kinder benachrichtigen sollen.  Doch kam es auf ein paar Minuten jetzt noch an?  Gut, er hätte einen Arzt holen müssen, damit der den Totenschein ausstellte. (...)  Und dann wäre ja wirklich alles vorbeit gewesen (.)“

/  “It didn’t help, he had to read.  Yes, perhaps he should have called the children first.  But were a few minutes going to make a difference now?  Yes, he should have fetched a doctor to write the death certificate. (…)  But then everything would truly be over (.)”  (my translation)

It is a dark novella, full of Kleistian questions of the ability to communicate truly with another human being.  The couple both studied Ancient Chinese philosophy and so there are also questions about the afterlife and belief.  Images of an eternal lake we all have to cross once we go are used by the late wife.  Unfortunately one of the weaknesses of the English title is that it just cannot capture the beauty of the German word “Jenseits”, meaning the far side, the beyond.

It is a novella concerned with death as the end of a relationship.  The husband can no longer communicate, and feels his early novel has been misunderstood as relating to his own promiscuity.  He cannot convince his wife Doro of this though because she took the facts in her own interpretation and then passed away.

Not for the faint-hearted, but necessary reading.

The Memory of Love by Aminatta Forna

This has to be one of the best books I read last month.  It does have tough competition what with Snow Crash and American Gods having made such an impression on me.  It centres on life in Sierra Leone after the civil war and it isn't for the faint-hearted.  The thing about its violence, in comparison with trashy thrillers or even Sci-Fi, is that it has all actually happened in Sierra Leone.  That's the heartbreaking part of it.

We follow an English psychologist who has volunteered overseas, despite having a wife and daughter back home.  He is that typical foreigner, invading a developing country after a war or flood or catastrophe with the idea of "helping" who is resented by the locals, and whose small amount of work can barely make a difference to the thousands suffering there.  He seems to be working through his own problems rather than truly helping.  But then what else can he do?

Adrian, the psychologist, connects with an old, dying man in the hospital who wishes to tell his life story.  You can see from the outset though that this is a story of his own devising, and there are gaping holes in his version of events.  In a somewhat cliche fashion, Adrian also falls in love with a local woman, who turns out to the be estranged daughter of the old man.  I'm not sure what I think about the twists of the plot.  It all fits so neatly, even when the most gruesome details are being discussed.  But maybe that makes it all the more effective, because we can anticipate what is going to happen - there is a limited cast of characters and they are all interconnected.  The one I haven't mentioned so far is Kai, a surgeon at the hospital and befriender of Adrian, who has his own past which he is trying to bury.

I read this on my trip to Germany a month ago, and given that I am still thinking about it, I think that means it really moved me.  I will definitely be looking out for more books by Aminatta Forna...

 

Happy Birthday 6 Music!

Am having a lovely Sunday enjoying the wonderful BBC Six Music and its celebrations for having been on air for 10 years.  I'll admit, I'm a fairly late convert to 6 Music, I only started listening in 2009/2010 when they were threatened with closure.  That basically coincided with the Christmas when I asked for a digital radio...  It's been such an eye opener to good music from all over the place.  I probably now listen to it just as often as Radio 3. 
So here's to another 10 years!

OOohh :-) American Gods by Neil Gaimon

Now I’ve started with this book reviewing thing, the list of books I need to review is rapidly expanding, and yet I haven’t yet posted another review.  Well I guess, given that it’s the weekend and I have some spare time, I should remedy that.

So I discovered, or rather finally explored, the rather wonderfully shiny City Library in Newcastle a week or so ago.  It’s a new glass building with 3 floors, and as a friend of mine commented, on first glance you can’t see any books.  Well after further investigation, they definitely are there!  The fiction section seemed quite small to me, and so when I started searching for something specific (Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, review imminent, following my trend of classic sci-fi), I first checked online whether they had it.  Turned up, couldn't find it, and asked a librarian, who went to a special backroom to find it.  Amazing!  I mean I can see why that copy wasn't on display...it's rather old and battered and is a boring hardback without a decent cover.  I just got so excited by the idea that they had more books in storage somewhere...  It's like the University Library all over again - a secret chamber of hidden books, that only the librarians get to see, unless you are lucky enough to work out how to use the catalogue and request one.  Anyway, I picked up Fahrenheit 451 and The Tiger's Wife by Tea Obreht at the City Library just after I came back from my trip to Germany a few weeks ago, where I had devoured American Gods by Neil Gaiman.  So, review...

American Gods by Neil Gaiman

We meet and follow an ex-con as he tries to come to terms with the death of his wife.  He travels around the States, getting mixed up with a bunch of gods.  That is, the old gods, the ones that came over with all the different settlers from around the world.  Mainly the ones we focus on are the old European gods who are waging war on the new gods, the gods America itself has created.  But by the end we have also met Indian gods, gods of technology and communication, gods of the moon and the stars.

Crazy things happen.  Shadow (that's the main character, good name actually) learns to see the world in a different way, meets his dead wife, solves a murder that has been recurring for decades...  And I followed it.  The crazy suspension of disbelief, which practically starts from the first chapter, just keeps on going because I believed in Shadow.  He was real and those gods were real.  Can you imagine being dragged to a new country, adored, and then put aside?  Well, yes actually, that sounded exactly right for the consumerist culture of today.  And it's all interspersed with short chapters about the history of other gods, so that we're not trapped with Shadow the whole time.  I swallowed it whole, just like the female god does to a man in one of the chapters.

Genius...

The first I'd heard of Neil Gaiman was a friend raving about Neverwhere, and then another friend claiming he just couldn't get anywhere with American Gods - had started it and floundered.  Well I guess this might not be a book for everyone.  But if you like journeys, epic books, thoughts that will stay with you long after the memory of the plot has gone (slightly true of me honestly, as my short review above will testify), then read this.  If you are completely plot driven, I can see how you might flounder...

Back to the blog…

Time has come for a new start for me, and some new hobbies, of which this blog shall be one.  February has always been such a grey month, wherever I've been, that I feel it needs to have some life injected into it. 

I surprised myself when I wrote a top list of things to do this weekend (on a long train journey) and WRITING came it at number 2:

1. Work to live
2. Write
3. Exercise and eat well

So in that vein, I guess I should post a book review...

Snow Crash by Neil Stephenson 
Now I realise I've come to Sci-Fi rather late.  My first H.G.Wells was only last year, ditto Asimov.  I like to think this is all because I wasn't really aware of Sci-Fi, but if I'm honest, I judge books in libraries by their covers.  I get put off by Romantic faces, or anything that looks like a Horror or a Thriller.  And also Sci-Fi.  Similarly, I hate to put a book down when it's no good or hasn't grabbed me.  And so I stick to things I know I'll like...

In this case my friend, whose book recommendations are sound, had raved about this before, and so when I was visiting her and we entered a bookshop, I ended up buying it.  A decision I definitely did not regret.
Despite the huge differences of the universe which Stephenson creates, I was hooked from the beginning by the thrill of the character, “The Deliverator”, who fills the first chunk as we follow him delivering pizzas.  The rampaging plot leads from this Mafia pizza enterprise to his life as Hiro Protagonist, a hacker in what Stephenson calls the “Metaverse”, i.e. the world of virtual reality created on the internet.  The female lead, in the form of “Y.T.”, a 15-year-old skateboard courier, bears no small resemblance to the heroine of Stieg Larsson’s Millenium trilogy – although obviously I realise that this probably came the other way round, as Snow Crash was published in ’92.  Y.T. bumps into Hiro by chance whilst he is failing to deliver a pizza and saves his skin, earning herself points with the Mafia for doing so.  The plot then veers off into and out of the cyberspace Metaverse, incorporating the critique of the modern consumerist era, a powerful hatred of mega-monopolies and a CIA which pays hackers such as Hiro for information that they then use against the citizens in this anarchic state.

I guess you could criticise the proliferance of violence, but in all honesty this is balanced by the mythic plotline.  Stephenson has Hiro investigating ancient gods in order to find the source of the drug Snow Crash.  This leads us into a beguiling world where the brains of hackers are considered to be wired differently to others.

It is breathtaking in its details: the chapter where we follow Y.T.’s mother at her work at the CIA, with its minuscule descriptions of how long she is meant to take to read a staff bulletin…  I was swept along on the heady rush of this alternative universe, leading me to finish the book all too quickly.  Suffice to say, I will definitely be investigating more classic Sci-Fi in the future.

Deutsche Lit !November 2011!

So, given that some people (@Lizzy and @Caroline) have decided it to be German book month in November, and I am a massive German book fan, and November is my birthday month, I feel this is all coming together to encourage me to blog about some of my favourites! Although it obviously isn't yet November....

Perhaps I have to declare, I studied German literature. I know, it's a problem. Free license to buy all those beautiful books with at least the theory that it was helping my degree... Anyways, now that I live and work in the North East of England, instead of living in Germany or studying Germany, there is slightly less time for this obsession. Nevertheless, until recently, when I started my new job and moved closer to work, I used to have about 2-3 hours a day on public transport, which was often used to continue this habit.

Down to business. I find it difficult to name absolute favourites, given as I am to mentally being prepared for someone at uni to argue the opposite point of view. I must confess though that I haven't necessarily read everything in German. A crime I realise. In particular, no. 1, which admittedly was a Christmas present from my parents in the gorgeous new translation. And if I'm honest I don't think I would have made it through the German. It might have been abandoned, or rather put aside for later, like currently my copy of Dr Faustus by Mann.

1. Der Zauberberg, T. Mann. Just excellent. There is little else to say.
2. Effi Briest, Fontane. I only read this a few months ago, after having heard others rave about it for quite some time. My copy was actually free from the Faculty library last year before I left... which means that the annotations were incredible...
3. Die Blechtrommel, Grass. I love Grass. I know he's arrogant and self-conscious, and not completely free of moral ambiguity, but this one is epic. I have more by him on my bookshelf at my parents that I have actually read, than probably anyone else (apart from, like, Roald Dahl).
4. Plays by Lenz: i.e. Die Soldaten, Der Hofmeister, Der neue Menoza :-) I know, I studied them, I even wrote about them, but they are brilliant. Everyone says of Kafka how forward looking he was, and he's read widely in translation because of this, but this should be true for more writers/dramatists etc etc etc. Ok rant over.
5. And whilst we're on dramatists: Schiller. In particular, Maria Stuart, Don Karlos and the Wallenstein trilogy.
6. Der fremde Freund, Christoph Hein. I came to this, again, rather late. It's one of those ones Germans study in school. I swallowed it in I think 1 or 2 sittings.

I need some time to think. I shall return to this later in the week once I've considered the rest of my bookshelf (as I mentioned, unfortunately it is many miles away at my parents house).