Lisa Moore - February

Melancholic - that's the first word that came to my mind when I finished this book. I'm guessing that's how Helen, the protagonist, felt for a major part of her adult life. Her husband, Cal, had been on the Ocean Ranger that sunk in 1982, off the coast of Newfoundland - there were no survivors. Fast-forward to 2008, which is when this book starts: Helen, now a middle-aged woman, is battling loneliness and misery, as she tries to find some kind of solace in looking after the grandchildren and sewing beautiful wedding and prom dresses as a career. She's tried her hand at online dating, after being persuaded by the children; she's tried yoga; working in a corporation and all in all, it just sounds like she's tried a myriad of things to get over the grief - but to no avail. Does one ever actually get over losing a loved one?

The narration isn't linear though - it's almost like a series of random flashbacks and memories that have made up some of the happiest, saddest and most poignant moments of Helen's life : be it receiving a Valentine's card from her husband, days after the Ocean Ranger sank or, contemplating his last moments - did he at least get to play a last game of cards post-supper?

There is no plot - at least not one that I could find. It was essentially focusing on Helen's despondence, as well as the lives of her children and grandchildren: her daughter getting pregnant at the age of fifteen, her daughter coming home drunk and escorted by the police. It's also a very "twenty-first century" novel, with references to Cosmo and Vogue, eBay and online dating. I'm still not quite accustomed to seeing them in books - even though, for once, it didn't sound like those references were forced. It was just part of the narrative, and it made the book more real somehow.

Did I enjoy this book - not really. It depressed me, and made me ponder on things that I ordinarily wouldn't (e.g. do you ever get over the loss of a loved one, specially a husband?). It was just so - sad, for lack of better words! Well-written, descriptive, emotional, but sad! One of my favourite poems is Dylan Thomas' Death Shall Have No Dominion, but clearly, those left behind beg to differ, as this book reminds us, not very subtly! Who knows how life can change by things we have no control over, when we least expect it to?!

Have you read anything by Lisa Moore? I've heard Alligator is worth a read - would you recommend it?

As for this book being on the Booker longlist - well, I personally don't think it'll make the shortlist, but hey! What do I know?! What do you think - does the shortlist have a place for February?

Andrea Levy - The Long Song

I apologise for my thoughts on this book at the very outset. I'm going through a bit of a stressful phase right now, and while normally, it doesn't affect the way I approach books, I'm not completely convinced that it hasn't this time 'round. I mean, The Long Song was longlisted for the Orange Prize, and it's on the Booker longlist as well. It's got to be a good book, right? Well, I didn't finish it, and it wasn't for lack of trying! I put it aside at 150 pages - my edition had 308 pages, so I did read about half of the book, and it failed to engage me at any level. Strange, because the subject matter is intense and well, more often than not, I end up empathising and sympathising with the protagonists and narrators of such stories. This time - absolutely nothing.

Set in the early nineteenth century, this book focuses on the final days of slavery in Jamaica. The primary voice is that of July, a slave born on the sugar plantation called Amity, after her mother was raped by the overseer of the plantation. July was separated from her mother, Kitty, when the plantation owner's sister, Caroline, found her utterly charming and wanted to groom her to be a lady's maid. Caroline, new to Jamaica and the rampant slavery, depended much on July, and the slave girl often took advantage of her mistress' dependence.

Personally, I thought that the writing lacked the intensity that the subject matter deserves, and almost treated the subject frivolously. I also did cringe, occasionally, on reading some of the lines, although I'm willing to bet that Levy intended to have that effect on the reader.

"Stuff up her mouth with rags, come on, come on," he insisted once more. Rose took a rag, dipping it in the water from the pail and brushed it against Kitty's lips. But Tam Dewar, exhaling with annoyance, commanded, "Not like that!" He snatched at the rag that Rose held, then forced the damp cloth down into Kitty's mouth. "Like this, you fool, like this."

Rose protested, "Massa, she birthin', she birthin'!" as Kitty choked to accommodate the bulk of cloth in her mouth.

I don't think I got used to the style of writing either, where the narrator constantly addressed me as "Reader," and it switched between first person (present) and third person (past). And, I really didn't care what happened to the characters - who survived, who didn't.

Maybe I'm being harsh, but despite the writing being simple, I found reading this book a chore, and didn't feel inclined to pick it up. I wish I'd finished this book, to see what the end objective was - and maybe, just maybe, the second half of the book would end up redeeming itself. Have you read this book? Do you think the second half is better/more engrossing than the first?

Have you read Levy's Small Island? I think it's her most talked about book. Would you recommend that over her latest?

David Mitchell - Black Swan Green

About five years back, with the launch of the iPod Shuffle, Apple declared "random is the new order" to the world, as "life is random" so we should "give chance a chance." What does any of this have to do with Black Swan Green? Well, nothing, really! However, it does have a lot to do with the way I've approached the works of David Mitchell - Unlike some book bloggers (e.g. Kerry), I haven't read his works in any kind of order; just as and when I got my hands on one of his books. I never had a chance though. I didn't even know who David Mitchell was (yes, I was living in a black hole of sorts) until one of my friends shoved number9dream in my hands, and insisted I read it. From the opening line, which I can still repeat off the top of my head, I was hooked. The rest, as they say, is history.

And so, I started my fourth book by David Mitchell eagerly, not quite knowing what to expect. I knew it was a coming-of-age story, and I half wondered if it would be similar to the surreal number9dream, or well - I didn't really have an alternative.

Black Swan Green is much more of a "traditional" coming-of-age story. In fact, if I didn't know better, I would have assumed it was Mitchell's debut novel - not because of the quality of writing (seriously, I don't think you can fault Mitchell's quality of writing!), but more because the book was a lot more conventional than I'd have expected, specially considering it was released on the back of Cloud Atlas.

It's 1982, the year of the Falklands War. Havoc is wreaking on that front, but thirteen year old Jason is fighting another battle: against bullies, against a stammering problem he can't seem to get rid of, and harbouring a secret that might make him the laughing stock of the school: a secret desire to be a poet. Closer to home, his sister refers to him as "thing," and his parents' marriage is rocky - thirteen, it's a "wonderful miserable age!"

Bluebells swarmed in pools of light where the sun got through the trees. The air smelt of them. Wild garlic smelt of toasted phlegm. Blackbirds sang like they'd die if they didn't. Birdsong's the thoughts of a wood. Beautiful it was, but boys aren't allowed to say "beautiful" 'cause it's the gayest word going.

As opposed to a linear narrative, this book is essentially a set of snapshots in Jason's life as a thirteen year old, focusing on the events that help him mature, as he realises some hard truths about life, be it about his friend's father's alcoholism

"[...]Tell you what it's like, it's like this whiny shitty nasty weepy man who isn't my dad takes my dad over for however long the bender lasts, but only I - and Mum and Kelly and Sally and Max - know that it isn't him. The rest of the world doesn't know that, see. They just say, Frank Moran showing his true colours, that is. But it ain't" Moran twisted his head at me. "But it is. But it ain't.[...]"

or, about the cruelty of war, and how it ruins lives

War's an auction where whoever can pay most in damage and still be standing wins.

Okay, maybe that's a little too profound for a thirteen year old, but the point still stands! Speaking of profundity, how's this:

I've never listened to music lying down. Listening's reading if you close your eyes. Music's a wood you walk through.

And then, you have some mixed with a desperate call for anger management:

Me, I want to kick this moronic bloody world in the bloody teeth over and over till it bloody understands that not hurting people is ten bloody thousand times more important than being right.

Oh! To be thirteen again...

I enjoyed this book, and the various episodes of Jason's life, despite the fact that at times, he really did seem older and wiser than his years (above excerpts withstanding). It was an easy read, but delightful at the same time, and it was a story I could relate to - being someone born in the eighties myself! I got most of the music references, be it Duran Duran, Beatles, Sex Pistols, Joy Division or the infamous "Do the Locomotion". It took me back a long way, and I was reminiscing away about my life and how things were about a decade ago! I could identify with Jason's preoccupations and concerns at times, and I sympathised with him on the whole rivalry with the sibling - been there, done that! My brother and I couldn't possibly be closer now. Oh, how times change...

Have you read any David Mitchell? Any favourites? I still have Ghostwritten to go, so I'm really looking forward to that.

Also, do you have any other favourite coming-of-age stories? I do love reading them - they almost always take me away to a simpler easier time. Do you feel the same as well about comfort reads?

Just as an aside for you David Mitchell fans out there who've read Cloud Atlas as well:

Madame Crommelynck, the daughter of the famous composer in Cloud Atlas, makes an appearance in this book, when she attempts to introduce Jason to European literature. She plays Robert Frobisher's Cloud Atlas Sextet for the teenager, who is awed by it (see quote above). I loved that bit! Any idea if there are any more references to other characters from his previous books that I've missed?

Rachel Ferguson - The Brontës Went To Woolworths

The Brontës Went to Woolworths is one of those utterly bizarre books, with quirky characters and a story which makes the mind boggle. The thin line between fact and fiction is erased by the Carne sisters - the protagonists of this book - as they let their imaginations run away with them, and create a wondrous warm world of friendship, happiness and make-believe. A dog who used to be Pope, a doll who used to live in Paris and friends in high places, including Judge Toddington ("Toddy"). You also have their mother, who indulges them and the prudish governess, Miss Martin, who judges them, as she can't quite fathom what's going on inside the bubble the family has created for themselves, probably to cope with grief and sadness after their father's unfortunate demise. To be fair, one can't really blame Miss Martin for being confused about what's going on in this 1930s household - I was utterly baffled by what was going on for the first fifty odd pages, and I kind-of had an inkling of a clue. However, once I figured out the line that the Carnes had erased, things suddenly became much clearer...

...and while they became clear in my head, things got slightly more complicated for the Carnes, when Deirdre (the eldest sister) met Lady Mildred (Toddy's wife) at a charity bazaar, and ended up befriending the older lady and subsequently, her husband - the father figure that Deirdre had created for herself. The "Saga" the Carnes had created for themselves was suddenly moving closer towards reality, and the emotions that ran through the book were both, endearing and heart-rending. Shiel, the youngest daughter, practically had no grip on reality, and her older sisters were extremely protective of her - not only that, but, they themselves spent most of their time in the nursery, escaping their own reality.

The other thing I loved about this book was the irony and humour present throughout. There were a fair few chunks that had be laughing out loud. For instance, the opening paragraph, as narrated by Deirdre, reads:

How I loathe that kind of novel which is about a lot of sisters. It is usually called They Were Seven, or Three-Not Out, and one spends one’s entire time trying to sort them all, and muttering, ‘Was it Isobel who drank, or Gertie? And which was it who ran away with the gigolo, Amy or Pauline? And which of their separate husbands was Lionel, Isobel’s or Amy’s?

How can you not love the irony, when this book is about the three sisters, for the most part?

Another bit that absolutely had me in splits was when Deirdre talks about a proposal she received:

I couldn't accept the man, much as I liked him, because I was in love with Sherlock Holmes. For Holmes and his personality and brain I had a force of feeling which, for the time, converted living men to shadows.

I did enjoy this book thoroughly, and would recommend it highly. It's not very twenty-first century, though, so it's almost like a fairytale. The cynic in me did kick in from time to time, but, I just brushed it aside, for I couldn't help but hope for a "happy ending" for the kooky family, that resorted to escapism to find their solace.

Reading In August

I've had a relatively "busy" July. For the first time since January, the number of posts I created in a month has hit double-digits. It's just ten - nothing to write home about, but, it's still a nice feeling, if you know what I mean. I'm not comparing myself to some of you book bloggers out there, who stack up more than twice that in a fortnight! :) Read about nine books in July (two reviews are still pending), and thought it was a good month reading-wise.

I read three different books by Nobel Prize winners:

1. J.M. Coetzee's The Life and Times of Michael K
2. Ernest Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea
3. Doris Lessing's The Fifth Child

And three books that appear on the 1001 Books To Read Before You Die list: (sorry, there's an overlap)

1. J.M. Coetzee's The Life and Times of Michael K
2. Ernest Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea
3. Haruki Murakami's Kafka On The Shore

So, yes, I enjoyed my July, but for the fact that I didn't make a dent in my to-read pile, as I was at my parents, and then fell ill and then ended up visiting the library and reading books that were lying around there. So, August is going to be about hitting that massive to-read pile, and conquering it somewhat. It'll be a while before I do that, but a girl's got to try!

So, without much further ado, here's my proposed book-stack for August - likely to change, but it's what I plan on right now.

Yep, it's almost got an "around the world" theme to it, with books from India, Turkey, Russia, France, Nigeria and Czechoslovakia.

1. Jhumpa Lahiri's The Namesake
2. Irène Némirovsky's Suite Française
3. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's Purple Hibiscus
4. Orhan Pamuk's My Name Is Red
5. Milan Kundera's Farewell Waltz
6. Mikhail Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita

Also, if my library would be nice enough to get some of the books from the Booker longlist, I'll be reading those. Note for next year: do not exercise the self-imposed reading ban in the months of July, August and September. I'll be keeping an eye out on all the reviews, and come September, I'll be treating myself to a chunk of the Booker longlist and shortlist.

What do you have in store for August? Will you be tackling the Booker longlist?

Frances Hodgson Burnett - Little Lord Fauntleroy

I finally have some semblance of a life again after being under the weather for an extraordinarily long time (well, "extraordinarily long" is a relative term, but it is coming up to about two months now). I read loads of my old Enid Blytons and Nancy Drews, while twiddling my thumbs and imagining all kinds of crazy things, but most of them were being re-read for about the seven hundred and twenty third time. I can actually recite some of those books without any prompts... Right, that's a long digressive opening paragraph, which is meant to lead up to this simple statement : the only children's book (comfort read) I read during this period which I hadn't read before was Frances Hodgson Burnett's Little Lord Fauntleroy. I absolutely loved both, The Secret Garden and A Little Princess, but I'd just never managed to find this book anywhere before. Hurrah for libraries!

There's something about children's books and being ill.* They're just feel-good, and take you away to this "happy place," where you're thinking rainbows and butterflies, without actually resorting to LSD or 'shrooms or any other illegal substance. Little Lord Fauntleroy is no exception.

A story set in the late nineteenth century, it focuses on eight year old Cedric Errol who lives with his mother (who he calls Dearest) in a New York side-street, after his father, Captain Errol, passes away. Everyone is extremely fond of the boy, with his "quare little ways" and "ould fashioned sayin's!"

"'Ristycratic, is it?" she would say. "Faith, an' I'd loike to see the choild on Fifth Avey-NOO as looks loike him an' shteps out as handsome as himself. An' ivvery man, woman, and choild lookin' afther him in his bit of a black velvet skirt made out of the misthress's ould gownd; an' his little head up, an' his curly hair flyin' an' shinin'. It's loike a young lord he looks."

One day, out of the blue, a lawyer from England visits the mother and child, and breaks the news to them : Cedric, the grandson of the Earl of Dorincourt, was to become Earl someday, as both his uncles had passed away in the recent past. Probably not the best of comparisons, but think The Princess Diaries.

However, unlike the princess in The Princess Diaries, Cedric already exudes lordship: sensitive to others, generous and always wanting to help those he can. If that's not enough, he's also polite, respectful and fearless, completely oblivious to class differences and the prejudices that rule the world. For instance, how his grandfather, the Earl, had disowned his son when he married an American commoner. So, that's the grandfather - the polar opposite of Cedric; a crabby old man, who no one likes and who, in turn, cares for no one. Or, is it vice versa?

The rest of the book is essentially about the interaction between the grandchild and the grandfather, and how the latter is won over by the innocence and good-heartedness of the child. It's weird, and so unreal, but I just couldn't help rooting for that perfect happy ending, simply because that's all I wanted from the book. In another world, you could have the the impressionable child being more swayed by his grandfather, and becoming just like him! Or, a brattish spoilt child being the person to inherit the estate. But, no! None of that dark miserable stuff was in this book (thankfully - it was just what I needed after reading The Fifth Child).

I thoroughly enjoyed it, and am really glad that I read it when I did. However, I still can't help but strongly believe that The Secret Garden is miles better! I really must re-read it someday soon. I'm now wondering if I should venture into some of Burnett's books for adults. I've not read any, but have seen a fair few reviews on The Making of a Marchioness and The Shuttle, both of which have been published by Persephone.

What other works by Frances Hodgson Burnett would you recommend? And, do you have any favourite "comfort-reads" that simply must be read?

*Verity had a couple of posts on comfort reads and children's books a few weeks back as well (here and here). I couldn't agree more with some of her recommendations and selections.

The Booker Prize 2010

So, the shortlist for the Booker Prize was announced yesterday. Like many of you on the blog'o'sphere, I didn't do a post on what I'd expect to see on the longlist. There's a good reason for that - it's because I had absolutely no idea! I figured that Mitchell and McEwan would make it, but that's it. Hmm, even there I was wrong.

So, that's the longlist:

1. Peter Carey - Parrot and Oliver in America
2. Emma Donoghue - Room
3. Helen Dunmore - The Betrayal
4. Damon Galgut - In a Strange Room
5. Howard Jacobson - The Finkler Question
6. Andrea Levy - The Long Song
7. Tom McCarthy - C
8. David Mitchell - The Thousand Autumns of Zacob de Zoet
9. Lisa Moore - February
10. Paul Murray - Skippy Dies
11. Rose Tremain - Trespass
12. Christos Tsiolkas - The Slap
13. Alan Warner - The Stars in the Bright Sky

I've read the David Mitchell, and enjoyed it despite finding it a bit of a difficult read. Not read the others, but I do want to read a few of them. Do any of you have any suggestions? I don't really intend to read the entire longlist...

I really don't want to read the Peter Carey (do you really think he'll be the first author to win the Booker Prize three times?), as I really really didn't enjoy the only one of his books that I have read. Yes, I've used the word "really" four times in the previous sentence....

I guess the ones that appeal to me most at the moment are :

1. Paul Murray - Skippy Dies
2. Rose Tremain - Trespass
3. Christos Tsiolkas - The Slap

Have you read any of them? What did you think?

Do you plan on reading the longlist this year? Maybe the shortlist? Or, just the winner?

Doris Lessing - The Fifth Child

By virtue of Doris Lessing being a Nobel Laureate, her books have always intimidated me. The size of the one book I've heard about the most, The Golden Notebook, hasn't really helped. However, when I stumbled upon The Fifth Child at the library, I felt as though I had to try reading at least one of her books. I've read Nobel Prize winners before, and more oft' than not, I've enjoyed the reading. Also, the blurb at the back of the book intrigued me. It reminded me of Lionel Shriver's We Need To Talk About Kevin. No, this isn't a book about a high school shooting. Instead, it's a book about a child being born into a perfectly happy family, who is violent and uncontrollable, with a vicious streak in him from the time he was in his mother's womb. Set in the 1960s, this book revolves around two social "oddballs," David and Harriet, who meet at an office party, and almost immediately decide to get married, and have loads of children ("six, eight, ten"). They buy a massive house in the suburbs which they can just about afford, and Harriet gets pregnant, on the first viewing of the house! In the six years that follow, the couple have four children, and depend on their family for support. Yet, they're happy, which is the important thing.

Despite the family's constant advice, the couple are adamant to have more kids, and so, the fifth child is born. Even before the birth, Ben seems to be a violent child. According to Harriet:

sometimes she believed hooves were cutting her tender inside flesh, sometimes claws.

And when Ben is finally born, he resembles a goblin or a troll more than a human - Harriet's thoughts again! Nothing is safe from the little Frankenstein. Not the pets, not the other children, not the house they live in. His parents hate him, his siblings hate him. And so, the idyllic life that Harriet and David have built with such conviction starts falling apart.

Harriet was wondering why she was always treated like a criminal. Ever since Ben was born it’s been like this, she thought. Now it seemed to her the truth, that everyone had silently condemned her. I have suffered a misfortune, she told herself; I haven’t committed a crime.

This book raises more questions than it answers. In a family, what is the concept of consequentialism : the good of the entire family, or the good of every child? In a warm loving environment, how is a child like Ben born? And more importantly - why? Is happiness merely transient? Or, did David and Harriet tempt fate with their constant utopian life? Oh, and of course, it takes us back to the age old question: nurture or nature?

I found The Fifth Child to be a fascinating gripping read, and was amazed by how much Lessing had packed in in such a short novel (160 pages). The language wasn't complicated, and the plot moved fast. Even before the first chapter was over, David and Harriet had met for the first time, and decided on their marriage!

There's a sequel to The Fifth Child called Ben, In The World. Have you read it? If yes, is it worth reading?

Have you read any other books with a "monster" child, that you'd recommend? It does seem to be a crop up a fair bit in the world of literature. I'm just hoping it's not that common in reality.

Ernest Hemingway - The Old Man And The Sea

I have an absolutely ancient copy of this book lying around, and it's actually bizarre that I've not read the book yet - it's just 114 pages long! Published in 1974, the book cost just 30p at the time (US$0.45)! The book costs £7.99 now... let's keep that musing for another day! The Old Man and the Sea is an extremely 'concise' book, for the lack of a better word. The plot is uncomplicated, with minimal dialogue. It's literally about an old man and the sea, as the old man (Santiago) tries to change his luck, after going eighty-four days without catching a fish.

Santiago's protege, Manolin, has moved on to a "lucky" boat, as per his father's wishes, and so, when the old man heads out to the waters on the eighty-fifth day, he's all alone, without the boy he trusts.

On this fateful day though, Santiago's luck does change, as he catches what appears to be a giant fish, and an epic battle begins at sea between the fish and the man, as he is not able to haul the fish onboard. Thus begins a great game of waiting and patience (and impatience) as the old man bides his time, and ponders upon many-a-thing, including how useless his left hand his (when it starts cramping), how much he misses the old boy, and how he would have made some changes in his journey, had he known better.

He could feel the steady hard pull of the line and his left hand was cramped. It drew up tight on the heavy cord and he looked at it in disgust.

'What kind of a hand is that,' he said. 'Cramp then if you want. Make yourself into a claw. It will do you no good.'

While I'm glad I read this book, I still thought it dragged on a bit, by recounting the story of the old man's stay at the sea and his battle with the fish. Ironic that I'm saying the above about a book which is only 114 pages long, but there you have it. I guess I'm not interested in fishing, and while I understand the basic jargon, I don't really get what a lot of it means. For that matter, I don't quite understand fishing techniques either. So, maybe that's just me!

The old man's characterisation was fantastic though, as was his dialogues with the various natural things around him, including his victim - the fish. The way he handled exhaustion, cramps, hunger and thirst was mind-blowing, and I couldn't help but sympathise with him at those times. Even when I finished the book, I felt slightly despondent - but I reckon that's an emotion the book is expected to evoke.

The writing was brilliant - not poetic, but very real. The language was simple, and easy to read, while simultaneously bringing alive some of the scenes from the book. There was no superfluity, but all the words came together as though essential to form the whole story.

It's the first Hemingway I've read (yep, I know that's embarrassing!), but was wondering if you have read any of his works. If yes, what would you recommend?

J.M. Coetzee - Life and Times of Michael K

Life and Times of Michael K won the Booker Prize in 1983, and it's been one of Coetzee's books that I've wanted to read for a really long time. The name intrigued me: who is Michael K? And, what is it about his life and times that merits a novel?

The first thing the midwife noticed about Michael K when she helped him out of his mother into the world was that he had a hare lip. The lip curled like a snail's foot, the left nostril gaped.

Due to his disfigured cleft, his mother institutionalised him at a young age, and when he grew up, a simpleton, he became a gardener in Cape Town - a lifestyle that suited him, with his social inhibitions and lack of intelligence. However, when his ailing mother requested him to take her back to her hometown, when the country was ravaged by war, he agreed without even thinking twice.

Unfortunately, when his mother dies on the way, and all Michael K is left with is some of her belongings, and her ashes, he continues his journey to her hometown. While many unpleasant events occur en route to Prince Albert, once Michael finds the farm (which he thinks is where his mother grew up), he makes himself comfortable there, and begins gardening again: planting his seeds, and looking after them. He's away from the world, and he quite likes that.

Every now and again though, the story takes a turn, and Michael is forced to live in prisoner camps, and work for his food - something he just cannot fathom. As far as he is concerned, he should not be forced into a life, but choose his way of life. He understands there is a war going on around him, but then again, he just figures he's not a part of this war, for he doesn't want to be. Gardening is in his blood - all else is secondary.

Irritation overflowed in me. "You are not in the war? Of course you are in the war, man, whether you like it or not! This is a camp, not a holiday resort, not a convalescent home: it is a camp where we rehabilitate people like you and make you work!

This is an incredibly sad poignant book, which resonates within you long after you've finished it. It's not overtly verbose, it's not overtly descriptive; but perhaps, a more verbose book would not do justice to the character of Michael K - considered a simpleton, but still clever enough to run away from the government and not get caught? So, what is it about the life and times of Michael K during the War? Is it his refusal to succumb to the government's way of working, as he doesn't want to partake in the war? Or, is it his quest to find a place where he belongs, even if it is far away from humanity? Or, maybe it's simply that he will go to any lengths to not bow down to the metaphorical machine, even if it means harming himself?

Have you read this book? Was Michael K a simpleton, or simply someone hellbent on getting his own way, at any cost?

Have you read anything else by Coetzee? What would you recommend?

Colleen McCullough - Angel

I loved The Thorn Birds when I read it, almost ten years ago. Never went near another book by Colleen McCullough after that, as I was scared it would ruin The Thorn Birds for me. However, while browsing around at the library, I saw a fair few books by McCullough, and decided to take the plunge. So happy that I did - I loved this book! It's a diary of twenty-one year old Harriet Purcell in the 1960s. An X- Ray technician, Harriet's engaged to the boy she's been dating for a long time (but he doesn't even kiss with his mouth open!), and she shares a bedroom with her grandmother.

Despite what, on the face of it, seems like the perfect life, Harriet isn't completely happy. So, much to her parents' chagrin, she moves out of home to The House, which is located at the sleazy side of Sydney, Kings Cross. Mrs. Delvecchio Schwartz is her landlord, and her neighbours include artists, prostitutes and lesbians. Harriet, having lived an extremely sheltered life, hadn't ever interacted with any lesbians prior to this!

The main thing that convinced Harriet to move into The House was her landlady's daughter, Flo - a four year old child, who's affectionate but a mute. She helps Mrs. Delvecchio Schwartz in her profession as a soothsayer - a business she initially started as a racket, but with time, her predictions became accurate thanks to Flo. Harriet fell in love with the child at first glance, and continuously refers to her as an "angel." She does have her nemesis in Mrs. Delvecchio Schwartz lover, though...

Harriet matures as she keeps writing her diary - she takes a walk on the wild side; has her first affair, has a long-lasting affair with a senior doctor, learns how to cook, and works hard to first be transferred to Casualty, and then asked to run the X Ray unit in Casualty. She's intelligent, energetic, generous, conscientious and presumably attractive (based on the number of men who are attracted to her). She's also got a strong independent streak, and has a wicked sense of humour (referring to her ex-fiance as a "constipated Christian boy." At times, she comes across as a hedonist - someone who loves life, and wants to live it to the fullest!

And though this is only a few days old, I'm already well into a fat exercise book, and I'm quite addicted. Maybe that's because I can never sit still and think, I always have to be doing something, so now I'm killing two birds with the same stone. I get to think about what's happening to me, yet I'm doing something at the same time. There's a discipline about writing the stuff down, I see it better. Just like my work. I give it all my attention because I enjoy it.

She's also naive and innocent, struggling to figure out some things which everyone around her seems to understand - be it about sex, or lifestyle, or life at Kings Cross. Full credit her though, as she befriends all the social "outcastes," without paying much heed to their lifestyle choices. She sees them as "real" people, and doesn't put them in the brackets that society does.

Tonight has been a blinding enlightenment. I can never think the same about people again. Publicly one thing, behind closed doors something very different. Dorian Gray everywhere.

Of course, as things roll, there's a twist and a turn, but annoyingly enough, there's a perfectly happy ending, where everything just falls into place, and makes sense, and they all live happily ever after, despite it looking as if there would be no light at the end of the bleak metaphoric tunnel, for the longest time. I'm not really the biggest fan of books that end with all the loose ends tied up perfectly, but somehow, it did work for this novel, and left me feeling very glad that I'd read it.

Have you read anything by Colleen McCullough? If yes, what would you recommend I read next?

Grace Metalious - Peyton Place

Oh, it's been absolutely ages since I've read a 470+ page book in a day, but boy, this one was absolutely worth it. It's been labeled "wicked", "sordid" and even "cheap". I half thought of The O.C. as I was reading it, albeit set in the late 1930s, and not the twenty-first century. I've heard of Peyton Place in passing before, but never realised it was a book until quite recently, when everyone in the blogging world seems to be reading it. I wasn't actually planning on reading it, as such, but when I stumbled upon it in the library, I figured I might as well see what it's all about. I wasn't disappointed.

Set in a small fictional town (Peyton Place) in New England, just before the second World War, this book focuses on the hypocrisy and the downright gossipy nature of the inhabitants of this small town, where a good story includes one of three: a suicide, a murder, and an unmarried girl getting pregnant. Needless to say, in this book, all three events occur!

It's a book that's quite hard to write about, simply because of the plethora of characters that were introduced and developed: some you couldn't help but hating, and some you just couldn't stop rooting for.  It's commendable, how well Metalious (a pseudonym) has developed all the characters, though, considering there are well over fifteen characters whose life the book follows. Not once did I get confused as to which character she was talking about, nor where they stood on various issues. For me, the two main characters were two teenage girls, coming from totally different worlds : Allison, who lived with her successful mother after her father had passed away; and Selena, who lived with her parents and siblings in a shack. The latter's father was an alcoholic, and made life miserable for the rest of the family. Allison carried her own burdens - she wasn't aware that she was an illegitimate child (a fact that haunted her mother continuously), and she had some very set, almost naive, ideas about how her life would turn out: she wasn't going to fall in love, but was going to live a life full of affairs.

In terms of the adults, again, there were two characters who stood out more than the others, as they were almost too good to be true. Doctor Swain and the new Greek principal of the school, Tomas Makris. Both want to do the right thing - even if, at times, the so-called "right thing" is illegal or frowned upon.

Other characters include a batty old spinster with a cat (quite stereotypical, don't you think?), the village handyman who is also an alcoholic, the son of the richest man in town who's an out and out hedonist, and the poor teenager whose mother is unhealthily possessive, and insists on "giving him an enema and putting him to sleep."

As already mentioned, in Peyton Place, everyone knows everyone, and everyone talks. That's the one thing that's been a constant at the little town.

"The public loves to create a hero....Sometimes I think they do it for the sheer joy of knocking him down from the highest peak. Like a child who builds a house of blocks and then destroys it with one vicious kick."

Yet, the writing is wonderful: extremely easy to read, but full of wonderful metaphors and analogies. The opening line itself is beautiful,

Indian summer is like a woman. Ripe, hotly passionate, but fickle, she comes and goes as she pleases so that one is never sure whether she will come at all, nor for how long she will stay.”

and then, a couple of pages later:

Those grown old, who have had the youth bled from them by the jagged edged winds of winter, know sorrowfully that Indian summer is a sham to be met with hard-eyed cynicism. But the young wait anxiously, scanning the chill autumn skies for a sign of her coming. And sometimes the old, against all the warnings of better judgment, wait with the young and hopeful, their tired, inner eyes turned heavenward to seek the first traces of a false softening.

Agreed, it's not the most "literary" book out there, but it really is an enjoyable read. Being from a society prone to gossip and talking, I could only empathise with the characters, although again, being a part of society means I had to judge some of them as well.