Sunday, 24 February 2013

Returning from a long trip to the Salinas Valley...


East of Eden

John Steinbeck


It’s not often in a realistic novel that you find the author turning up as one of the characters. But in this saga about farming in the Salinas Valley at the turn of the century John Steinbeck is tracing his own family history. The plot focuses on two families: the Trasks and the Hamiltons. The poor Hamiltons, on a patch of earth with no water and 6 (I think) children, struggle by somewhat despite the incapability of the father Samuel Hamilton to earn any money. The Trask family, one brother Adam moving out to the Salinas Valley in the course of the novel leaving his hard childhood and scary brother behind, continues with twin boys, Caleb and Aron (biblical reference obvious).

Now I read Steinbeck’s most depressing work The Grapes of Wrath a few years ago, and really enjoyed the vision and the detail, but it is such a terrible, horrible novel about humans and greed. In contrast East of Eden has it’s horrible moments, but it is much more rounded. There is young love and exploitation, the severity of the land and the beginnings of accepting multiculturalism. Some people find a problem with Steinbeck’s preaching narrator; personally, I like it when the author lays out their cards as honestly as he does – you know just whose side he is on and don’t have to guess!

The language can also be perfect:

“It was a deluge of a winter in the Salinas Valley, wet and wonderful. The rains fell gently and soaked in and did not freshet. The feed was deep in January, and in February the hills were fat with grass and the coats of the cattle looked tight and sleek. In March the soft rain continued, and each storm waited courteously until its predecessor sank beneath the ground. Then warmth flooded the valley and the earth burst into bloom – yellow and blue and gold.”
(Opening of chapter 25)

One of the reasons I wanted to review East of Eden on here was to have the chance to revel in it a bit further. It’s only when I typed out that passage that I noticed all the subtleties of Steinbeck’s syntax. It can be so easy to describe something in prose in a way that means nothing because you’ve invested too many descriptors and no feeling for how a reader will read your sentences. For me, this passage is the opposite because it doesn’t look like it tries hard, but then you find such beauties as “each storm waited courteously until its predecessor sank beneath the ground”.

Because it is a family saga, the plot spirals around somewhat and sometimes could be accused of being overtly sensational. I won’t go into too many details here, with the hope that some of you might still read it, but the focus on the brothels in the second half of the book definitely descends down that path. That’s not to say Steinbeck does a bad job at it – I wonder if he were writing today whether he would have learnt his craft as a script writer on Eastenders or telenovellas? The character of Cathy/Kate is fascinating though, and well developed during the course of the novel. She clearly holds a great deal of power over John Steinbeck:

“I believe there are monsters born in the world to human parents. Some you can see, misshapen and horrible, with huge heads or tiny bodies; some are born with no arms, no legs, some with three arms, some with tails or mouths in odd places. They are accidents and no one’s fault, as used to be thought. Once they were considered the visible punishments for concealed sins.
And just as there are physical monsters, can there not be mental or psychic monsters born? The face and body may be perfect, but if a twisted gene or a malformed egg can produce physical monsters, may not the same process produce a malformed soul?"
(Opening of chapter 8)

This prose may feel outdated, but the theme is still prevalent today. How can seemingly ordinary people act in ways completely alien to the majority of society? Is it genetic or is it learnt? What are they lacking? Steinbeck clearly comes down here on the side of genetical malformation – i.e. it is nobody’s fault. But it’s a thin line between that and the nature/nurture debate.

I hope I’ve given you a taste of what is so enjoyable about East of Eden. Admittedly it doesn’t have my favourite chapter in Steinbeck in it, the description of the tortoise on the side of the highway from The Grapes of Wrath, but the characters are its unforgettable part. I wouldn’t know which to name as my favourites; they are all so three dimensional – Sam Hamilton, Adam Trask, Tom Hamilton, Aron Trask, Caleb Trask, Charles Trask, Lee, Cathy/Kate.

Monday, 18 February 2013

I have been enjoying recently… Podcasts



Now that my technology has caught up with this decade, and I’m walking to work, I have been discovering the excellent world of podcasts. I thought I’d list some favourites on here - partly because I still haven’t finished Steinbeck’s East of Eden, and partly as something to keep me occupied on a slow Monday afternoon.

I’ve been enjoying the variety of the Weekend Woman’s Hour podcast. I find it’s nice to have the edited highlights of the daily shows together with feedback from the listeners. This is a good one for the walk to work in the mornings as it’s not always too taxing on the brain and yet they maintain a good range of guests and topics to keep it interesting. I particularly liked the interviews with the young girls that were in a flagship mentoring scheme 4 years ago and have all now gained so much self-confidence and “can-do” spirit. There was also a great discussion a few weeks ago with a proponent of “soft” feminism and one for “active” feminism which had me screaming at the podcast! At an hour in length, this generally keeps me busy for a few days in my travels around the city, and I’ve found it great for long train journeys too.

One of the best things about the internet/technology age is the ability to learn about any topic at the click of a button. I find this particularly true with the Freakonomics podcast, which introduces novices like me to some of the basic principles of economics. Each episode tackles a concept or a problem using modern day (or even medieval Chinese!) examples in an entertaining journalistic way. So far some of my favourite episodes have focussed on the problem of providing incentives (The Cobra Effect) and the strange nature of “consultants”. This last one made me even more glad I never intend to apply for a grad. scheme with a consultancy firm! 

I revelled in the wonderful Jane Austen feature on the BBC World Book Club last month. The discussion was just great, featuring writer P.D.James, who recently wrote a sequel to Pride and Prejudice called Death comes to Pemberley. The best thing, somewhat unsurprisingly, about World Book Club is that the questions come from all over the globe. I really got an amazing feeling of how universally these books are appreciated.

I’m not quite sure why I downloaded the first Philosophy Bites podcast, given that I recoiled quite strongly from most philosophy at uni; but I was pleasantly surprised, and felt very cultured walking to orchestra listening to a lecture on freedom. The high point though was a wonderful talk about Gandhi’s philosophy, which educated and informed me about a topic I have been meaning to look up for quite some time…

I hope some of you reading this, if you don’t already, will consider investigating the world of the podcast and exploring all the knowledge out there!

Thursday, 7 February 2013

Regular updates are hardwork!

Apologies for the silence on the blog front lately. I haven’t quite worked out how to juggle temping, orchestra, gigs and socialising… But seeing as this blogging thing is only worth doing when I update regularly (and therefore get a regular audience) I am endeavouring to improve.

I have in mind to do a review of the gorgeous Les Mis film, but I think that might take more time than the quick 15 minutes I have now. So instead how about a list of things I have been enjoying and hope to enjoy in 2013:
1.       The Hobbit
I know this is a cliché. I was not expecting it to actually be amusing and entertaining… It made me realise how much Elijah Wood put me off the original LOTR films (especially in terms of watching them again). Martin Freeman is absolutely excellent as a wonderfully British Bilbo. And Gandalf was always my favourite. Minus the annoying elf and the tedious trawling to extinguish the ring in the fires of Mordor in LOTR, The Hobbit is much improved. And much funnier!
2.       I am reading Steinbeck’s “East of Eden” right now and revelling in his language and beautiful way of cutting right to the heart of a situation. I don’t remember enjoying Steinbeck at school but now as my tastes have changed I love the apparent simplicity of his vision. I hope to have it finished next week and maybe review it properly at some point in February.

Oh dear I’m going to have to leave it there for now. More to follow, promise!

Wednesday, 23 January 2013

Tales of drifting around after college...


Moon Palace

Paul Auster

I really enjoyed this book, but I can’t put my finger on why. It’s very depressing and the first section concerns itself with a young man determined to abandon himself to fate and not search for a job. He ends up starving, living in Central Park. So why was I hooked?

It must be the storytelling. Auster takes us through so many wild stories. The young man, Fogg/Philias/MS, moves in with an old man as a live-in companion/assistant, and the old man’s stories take us out West to the Grand Canyon. These tall tales of lead us into a hard tale of survival in the face of extreme circumstances. Later we hear a similar story written by a teenage boy involving aliens…

I couldn’t help but enjoy myself – it’s just ridiculous, funny and incredibly engaging despite the bizarre coincidences. (Include in all of those the far too gorgeous girlfriend of the young man who apparently falls for him after one meeting.) The picture of an apartment furnished with boxes of books, gradually being depleted by the man’s need for money for food. We’ve all done that, made furniture out of random objects in the face of necessity, but I’m pretty sure my furniture didn’t then disperse as I ate my way through an inheritance!

The plot gets crazier and more twisted up in itself as Fogg heads out West to follow those original footsteps. It almost felt like something out of that great gem of black humour, Six Feet Under. And yes he does also walk off into the sunset in a depressing ending. I was left feeling surprisingly upbeat though…Auster just doesn’t take it seriously at all – it’s like one big joke!

Friday, 18 January 2013

Die verlorene Ehre der Katharina Blum / The lost honour of Katharina Blum


Heinrich Böll


Okay so I realise that German literature month was November, but I completely failed to review anything at that point, and so I’m going to belatedly catch up. (I don’t think I’m completely alone in this! #germanevenlatermonth)

When I read this book in November I was struck in much of a similar way to Christoph Hein’s Der fremde Freund that it was probably something every German schoolchild reads in school, and so is deemed too simplistic for German literature university syllabuses in England. It’s obviously a difficult balance to maintain, and I’m now able to remedy it for myself, but I definitely felt I had missed a treat by not stumbling across it sooner!

Sadly I know as yet very little about Heinrich Böll, and this was the first book/or work (or even poem I think) I have read by him. But I will endeavour to read more! What a masterly way he plays with the reader and the text. Building a beautiful story whilst commenting on the craze of the mass media to drive stories to their tragic conclusion. The language is playful and also critical. The ridiculously short chapters driving us ever onward in the search of “the truth” behind the story. And so we the readers also become Paparazzi, urging Katharina to reveal all, even when we know the end because that is the very place that Böll begins.

I loved this. And I think I will be re-reading it for a long time. It struck me how it seemed to speak well to a modern audience as well as evoking a specific West German 1960s/70s feel. Any recommendations of other Heinrich Böll I might like?

Wednesday, 16 January 2013

Hallucinating Foucault by Patricia Dunker


On the trail of obsession...


Any novel which features the UL tearoom has definitely got my vote. There’s something so wonderful about that place. The UL, full of academics and, in termtimes, students in various degrees of stress, offers really only one place to drink a cup of tea and eat the packed lunch before rushing back to a reading room. The atmosphere is somewhere between a strangely Communist canteen and a National Trust café. Don’t ask me why that mixture, but it feels distinctly communal and worthy at the same time.

Ah, I’ve been sidetracked.

To get to the point, Patricia Dunker’s first novel Hallucinating Foucault begins in the UL tearoom. The initial encounter between the PhD student and future girlfriend takes place there, or rather outside it smoking. This is a meeting full of clichés: PhD student has only just noticed “The Germanist”, as she is called throughout, but she has been watching the PhD student for weeks.

I don’t know why, but I’m going to have to admit something at this point which was completely my fault and which sullied my reading of the first sections of the novel. About 10 pages in my brain decided that the main character was a woman.

There was only something like one pronoun in the first few pages and I missed it. However the PhD student is a man and yes the relationship with the Germanist is a clichéd as first predicted from the chat-up line he uses. I don’t understand my disappointment at the main character being a man. Possibly it was due to my anticipation of the novel linked with the one-dimensional characters and plot at this point in the story. At any rate, I found the central relationship from the start quite implausible.

However, given the force of homosexuality in the novel, it is pretty key that the male PhD student protagonist prove attractive to the fictional writer Paul Michel. So I was wrong in my interpretation at the start, and it clearly couldn’t have been any other way. I did wonder though upon reaching the end, no spoilers I promise, whether the author had intended to make it ambiguous for a little while at the beginning…

To return to a review in a sense: I found this a strange novel that reads like a thriller and not the Bildungsroman (coming-of-age novel) that it is. Madness also features heavily, and the text is littered with Dunker’s clearly excellent knowledge of Foucault. My knowledge of French 20th-century culture is so bad that I actually had to Google Paul Michel to assure myself that he was fictional. I think that proves how brilliantly he is portrayed.

The novel tackles questions of relations between texts (intertextuality being such a clumsy way of saying this!) and the writer-reader dynamic head on, taking these questions to their ultimate, extreme conclusion.

Given the progress down to the south of France later on, I was distinctly reminded of another coming-of-age story full of questions of mental health I read recently set on the Mediterranean - Tender is the Night. I’m sure Dunker is aware of the clichee of that part of the world being somewhere people retreat to and heal themselves.

So some advice on reading this: do not expect anything verging on realism, even though the text itself seems generally realistic. Do not expect all plot twists to be believable. Enjoy the clever philosophical questions and the questioning of sanity and obsession.

Tuesday, 15 January 2013

My AaronSorkin/JeffWinger moment



Nothing happens unless we make it happen. Luck is a god gamblers believe in, but I’m an atheist. If we achieve something, we have ourselves to thank for it. It might be hard and tiring and stressful, yet when we succeed, it will make that success all the sweeter.

 And yes, I’m a coward: I’m afraid to fail. But I’m afraid of many things. But of none the more so than of not living. Of not grabbing my steed, my life, firmly and not letting go. 

 Because nothing happens if you do nothing. 

 All the achievements of this world belong to those who dare, who try. Those who have no choice but to pull out a finger. Every piece of music that moves us, every book that tugs deep inside of us, every speech that makes us sit up straighter; they were all produced by minds like ours. And that is the biggest secret of them all: with some training and application the human mind has the capability for infinite creation. 

Power stems from our imaginations.



So this is a motivational speech I wrote for myself back in December. Surprisingly effective on myself given that I know all the tricks I'm using – motivates me almost as much as “that speech” in The Network which Maybeshewill sampled in Not For Want Of Trying. Putting it out there for friends in case it motivates 1 single person.