Sunday, May 08, 2011

Ressort's Review of Recent Reads

I may have over-indulged with the alliteration in the title but I couldn't resist.

As I'm an avid reader I've decided that on occasion I will blog about some of the rather fabulous books that I've had the pleasure of spending time absorbed in. I've had a really good run of some really inspiring works. Here are the books that I've particularly enjoyed over the last few months:

The Seamstress by Frances de Pontes Peebles

This is a book I picked up because it was on sale. I discover a lot of new writers through the cut price book stalls you can find here in Australia. Sorry but the price of a brand new first hand book is obscene, particularly for someone who grew up in England (we're talking at least 3x the price people!! Insanity I tell you). So when I'm not throwing myself into the loving arms of a second hand bookshop (I believe there is magic captured within the walls of second hand bookshops, it ' the only way to explain the "lost time" phenomenon I experience when I walk into one), I'm finding bargains at book stalls where I've even been known to find works by Haruki Murakami (be still my beating heart)

This is all by the by in terms of the experience of reading The Seamstress but it does highlight how you can find gems in the most unexpected places, including a food hall in North Sydney.

The Seamstress is an epic novel of love, adventure and politics. Set in Brazil & spanning a period from 1928 to 1935, this books follows the two very different but intertwining stories of 2 sisters from a small village, who through some very dramatic circumstances lead very different lives. 1 ends up married into a wealthy family in a city, the other is kidnapped by rebel bandits and become one of them. This may all sound rather over the top but these two different lives are used to depict the political and social situation in Brazil across that period.

In both cases Frances de Pontes Peebles avoids the trap of over romanticising the lives of her protagonists, as both sisters are forced to grow up and face the harsh realities of life. This is not a swashbuckling novel for the faint-hearted but nor is it so brutal that you lose sympathy for the sisters.

For those that enjoy a meaty read that gives a really strong sense of place and period, with strong character development, the Seamstress if for you. I really enjoyed it and felt thoroughly satisfied when I finished the final pages.

The Girl with Glass Feet by Ali Shaw

This was another North Sydney food hall find. I bought this book because it was a first time novelist (as someone working on her own first novel, I love reading books by new writers). I could be mean and say I didn't completely fall in love with this novel, but that would be talent envy speaking.

I LOVED this book. I've now lent it to a friend and bought it for another and will keep spreading the word, even if everyone thinks I'm mad. I've even started to twitter stalk the author (well I follow @ali_shaw on twitter, which is kind of the point of twitter but it amuses me to think of myself as a twitter stalker - plus I need to be on top of when novel no 2 is going to be released into the universe for me to consume). All joking aside, a fan is born, and Ali Shaw has been added to my "must read" list of novelists. These are the novelists for which I will pay full price for their latest works at my local Australian bookshop, because I simply have to have the book then and there. This is a surprisingly short list which compromises Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Rupert Thomson, Haruki Murakami, Neil Gaiman, David Mitchell, Carlos Ruiz Zafon and Scarlett Thomas. (and yes if they're on twitter I follow them, unless they don't write in English that is cos my Japanese & Portugese is hopeless)

Why did I love Ali Shaw' first novel so much? Because it if was a colour it would a mysterious foggy grey/white. Because it fuses fantasy with reality in a way that doesn't feel forced or trite, but instead feels possible. As if suddenly turning to glass could happen to you.

He creates wonderful but wounded characters and weaves a web of secrets that will keep you hooked to the end. Not for those that struggle to suspend disbelief, The Girl with Glass Feet is a beautiful, haunting first novel that I'll be re-reading for years to come.

One Day by David Nicholls
I always approach critically acclaimed books with some trepidation. It is the same with films that everyone tells you are "simply amazing", the hype can put me off. So I hesitated before reading "One Day" but it lived up to the reviews.

What a wonderful read. I agree with the review by Jonathan Coe on the cover of my copy as "you really do put the book down with the hallucinatory feeling that they've become as well known to you as your closest friends"

What really made this an immensely satisfying read is the obvious warmth and affection that David Nicholls has for his protagonists even as he puts them through hell. They are not picture perfect people with sterile lives but very much inhabit the same flesh & blood world that we do.

The concept of catching up with them on the same day every year, could have easily felt forced and clunky but instead Nicholls makes the narrative fly. I was reluctant to close the final pages of a truly compassionate book about human nature and relationships. I think I would struggle to find someone who doesn't finish this novel feeling as if they really know Emma and Dexter, they are among the most well rounded characters I've ever had the pleasure to meet.

The Night Watch by Sarah Waters

I'm a big fan of Sarah Waters and positively devoured Little Stranger on my last holiday. I bought Night Watch as I was interested in catching up on her back catalogue.

As with One Day, The Night Watch has an unusual structure, in this case the narrative starts in 1947 and works back to 1941. As a reader who enjoys the "big reveal" of your standard chronology I was surprised by how much interest and tension Sarah Waters could create with a story that goes backwards.

Past events are hinted at, with the truth eventually revealed. Set in London starting after WWII before going back to the very vivid setting of the Blitz, The Night Watch follow 4 characters whose lives are linked across the 6 years of the story.

Kay, Helen, Viv and Duncan have all suffered as a result of not quite fitting into society. Going back in time we come to understand why Kay walks the streets alone dressed like man, why Helen is so obsessively jealous, why Viv continues to have an unsatisfactory affair with a married man and what is so wrong with Duncan.

As with many of Sarah Waters' books, sexual identity is a key underlying theme and one of the contributing factors that makes our four protagonists feel like outsiders.

I would recommend this book to pretty well anyone, unless you happen to be homophobic ( but as I don't seek out the company of narrow minded or intolerant people hoping that doesn't apply to any of my blog readers).

The End (for now... so many books, not enough time)

Thursday, May 05, 2011

Conversation with a Moonbeam (a spot of flash fiction)


I talked to a moonbeam the other day. I lay in a field, the grass prickling my sun tarnished legs. I gazed up at the sky, squinting my eyes to catch the moonbeam mid flight as it rippled towards me.

I asked it questions that leapt like fish from the ocean of my mind
"where are you going?"
"where are you from?"
"can you see the future?"
"were you ever human too?"

The questions bubbled and frothed, bombarding the moonbeam. More & more spilt from me, slowing it until it stopped just above my head.

It seemed to ponder them all before caressing my face with its tentative light. The touch, as pure as silver weighted my eyes with sleep. In the world of dreams the moonbeam answered me with seductive slowness. Long pauses peppered the answers as it carefully examined the questions for their true meaning.

My soul sang at the answers. I could feel my body purring with the freedom of understanding. All mental barriers were knocked down one by one.

A fire came blazing through my dreams scattering the moonbeam and making my precious knowledge evaporate like dew.

Reaching out to grasp whatever remaining flakes I could my eyes burst open. The moon was gone, banished by an angry and jealous sun. The gift of understanding was scorched from my mind.

I thought I might cry but a sliver of silver remained. A moonbeam spoke to me, a truth that will survive the rational light of day.