I had to flick back through a few of these, since as usual, I drew a bit of a blank, only a month or so since finishing them. It really isn’t the best way of summarising my thoughts on them, but I don’t have the motivation to do a quick review on the fly. Written at the age of 81, Strangers (2009) by Anita Brookner was a short, sharp delight – this time her characteristic internal monologues came from a somewhat lonely, retired Englishman (has she ever done this with a male voice previously?) and yet it was superbly convincing. In his early 70’s he is tossing up an imagined future life with one of two idiosyncratic women, the first adventurous and flighty, the other an-ex lover – familiar and yet weary, a little dismissive of him and with medical issues. Whilst some people find Brookner dreary, repetitive or depressing, I call her wise, thoughtful and very human. I thought this was a cracker. 4.5 stars.
It was time to try a classic from a new (to me) author Henry James – Washington Square (1880). A beautiful front cover and being less than 200 pages helped its case. I don’t know why the publishers choose to place a spoiler (they call it an Introduction) at the beginning of these classics. Reading it instantly gives away so much of what to come – I’ve stopped reading them now. This was another captivating read for me – the text revolving around the 4 main characters – Catherine, her protective father the Doctor, her suitor Morris and her most interesting widowed aunt (Mrs Penniman). Set in 1840s New York, it details the attempts by Morris to marry Catherine (and her significant future fortune) to the displeasure of her suspicious father, who considers him a “bounder” (!). Mrs Penniman delights in the drama and romance of it all and prolongs the courtship for a good 20-30 years, long after the Doctor has passed. I enjoyed the tense standoffs and restraint of it all, and none of it was a chore to read. 4 stars.
Although deemed an “important” book by Antony Beevor, this prizewinning work of non-fiction East West Street by Philippe Sands is pretty narrow in its scope – at its heart a book about two competing legal minds that influenced the charges brought upon high-ranking Nazis at the Nuremberg trials of 1946. One, pushing for inclusion of a new concept “genocide” and the other for “crimes against humanity”, which was more about impinging on an individual’s rights, as opposed to a whole race or sub-group of people. Much of the drama focused on wartime events in the town of Lviv in modern-day Ukraine, which was the birthplace of the author’s grandfather. Although fairly grippng, the book went on a little long, and some of the minutia of the court procedings was tedious, as was the many behind the scenes international lobbying efforts of Lauterpacht and Lemkin. A very niche topic – 3.5 stars.
Cold Spring Harbour (1986) by Richard Yates is the story of a chance encounter between a young freshly- divorced Evan Shephard and Rachel Drake, living with her mother, the wonderfully unhinged and down at heel Gloria, in 1940’s America. A short novel, the tension comes when, for financial reasons, the couple are forced to move back to Rachel’s family home, where a claustrophobic atmosphere nudges Evan out into philandering, resentment and blame. An easy read which I loved – 4 stars.
Everytime I start a Murakami book, I worry if I will like it, yet I always come away happy I did, despite in this case, the 1960’s student, coming of age theme which was not appealing at all to me. This novel: Norwegian Wood (1987) was apparently a huge hit and made him a global star. Nearly every character in the book seems to be right on the edge of suiciding as most practical alternative to their life not working out, it’s pretty shocking in that sense, and there’s a real bluntness and honesty about the dialogue and relationships that you rarely get in a western novel. It’s very endearing (also long) and serious as a result. Mesmerising and sad, I can see why he has such a cult following – a real original here. 4 stars.
How could I not take a crisp copy of this beautifully covered 1937 novel The Cheltenham Square Murder by John Bude home from the Op Shop, despite my patchy record with crime. Spoiler alert: there are two murders, both by bow-and-arrow (!) and the limited number of local residents able to have done it reminded me of a game of Cluedo. There were a few moments when the narrative felt over-complicated and a little clunkier than what a modern crime reader would expect, but on the whole it was a solid read for an 85 year old book. 3.5 stars.
I’m really not sure how I hung on and finished this book (Your Band Sucks) by Jon Fine. I have to give him credit because he does paint a transparent picture of his (usually) poor behaviour whilst in late 1980s band Bitch Magnet. When I borrowed this book from the Op Shop, I thought it was more of a general book on the post-punk scene in the U.S, but it was a lot more specific than that, and thank goodness for the writing, which was generally fairly decent. I feel no compulsion whatsoever to listen to a single song by this seemingly loud, angular, math-rock, sometimes guitar-smashing band, and feel sure I would dislike them. I’m glad he got it out of his system, because he sounds more settled, less driven and selfish now – I’m sure he was a nightmare back in the day. 2.5 stars.
How could I not read Lives of the Monster Dogs (1997) by first time novelist Kirsten Bakis, with its preposterous premise of 150 specially bred, upright (2 legged standing), wealthy, formally dressed, long living “monster” dogs which infiltrate New York in the 1990s and seek to become part of society. It’s original, fever dream stuff and yet much of it works pretty well and I quickly accepted the concept. There were parts when I got a bit bored (the Opera devoted to their origin story and uprising, and the never ending sadness and regret of dog-ally Cleo, who is the only human allowed to infiltrate their ranks), but it was short enough to push through. An imaginative, novelty of a novel which is surely a cult book. 3.5 stars.