Paperback City

2011 Recap

2011-12-27T09:24:00.000+10:30

2011 has been a strange year, filled with ups and downs and everything in between. I didn’t achieve so much writing wise and certainly failed to keep Paperback City up to date. That said, the last few weeks have seen some serious progress on the second draft of my novel, with much scribbling out and rewriting, and one or two ‘did I write that?’ moments of the good and bad variety. I’m on two week’s holiday at the moment so I hope, in between the never ending seasonal eating and drinking sessions, I get some time to really knuckle down. Basically, I’m not sure it’s any good, nor what I really want to write, but it’s about time I finished something I started, so I can’t let myself off the hook so easy. Challenge accepted.

I’m looking forward to 2012. In particular, I can’t wait for Adelaide Writers’ Week (Megan Abbott, yay!), new Sookie Stackhouse (book 12) in May, and I’ve got a huge list of great books to get through.

Before we get too ahead of ourselves, though, here’s a list of the books I read this year:

Neanderthal – John Darnton
Miss Webster and Cherif – Patricia Duncker
Die a Little – Megan Abbott
The Blind Assassin – Margaret Atwood
Shades of Grey – Jasper Fforde
Dead Reckoning – Charlaine Harris
The Fellowship of the Ring – JRR Tolkien
The Two Towers – JRR Tolkien
The Return of the King – JRR Tolkien
Frenchman’s Creek – Daphne Du Maurier
When We Were Orphans – Kazuo Ishiguro
The Gates – John Connolly
My Family and Other Animals – Gerald Durrell
A Game of Thrones – George RR Martin
The Penelopiad – Margaret Atwood
The Book Thief – Markus Zusak
The White Queen – Philippa Gregory
The Devil Rides Out – Dennis Wheatley
Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter – Seth Grahame-Smith
Blue Shoes and Happiness – Alexander McCall Smith
Due Preparations for the Plague – Janette Turner Hospital
Jazz – Toni Morrison
The Angel’s Game – Carlos Ruiz Zafon
The Song is You – Megan Abbott
The Brief History of the Dead – Kevin Brockmeier

Wishing you all a safe and happy new year. Catch you in 2012.

From Mum and Dad's Bookcase

2011-10-21T19:20:00.003+10:30

Last month my family was super excited to welcome a new member with the arrival of my nephew, Louie, on 29 September. I spent a fortnight house sitting while Mum and Dad were off being grandparents in Sydney and the lengthy bus ride to work meant that I flew through my allotted reading material quicker than anticipated. I consequently raided Mum and Dad’s bookcases for something new to read, and was not disappointed…

The White Queen - Philippa Gregory (2009)

Set in the latter half of the 1400s amidst the brutal War of the Roses, The White Queen tells the story of Elizabeth Woodville, wife of Edward IV and mother of the missing princes in the Tower. I have a fairly jumbled understanding of this period in history (thanks in no small part to season one of Blackadder), but Gregory’s rich prose quickly drew me in. She evokes the era perfectly, from the dirty streets of medieval London, to the muddy battlefields and the damp confines of Westminster Abbey.

Elizabeth was, as far as I can gather, largely disliked as a Queen, but Gregory paints her as a somewhat sympathetic character. Overall, I felt the historically flimsy thread of superstition and witchcraft lent little to the story, because Elizabeth strikes me as interesting enough already. That said, The White Queen is historical fiction in the truest sense – the history is grounding and believable, and the fiction maintains an enjoyable, page turning read. I enjoyed the creativity Gregory used in filling in the gaps, especially the refreshing twist on the mystery of the missing princes.

The Devil Rides Out - Dennis Wheatley (1934)

Some time ago I reviewed Dennis Wheatley’s Unholy Crusade, and since then I have been meaning to read more of his work. He was quite prolific, but perhaps his best known novel is The Devil Rides Out.

The Duke de Richleau, Rex Van Ryn, and their intrepid companions fight against the power of evil in order to rescue their friend Simon from the grip of a Satanic cult bent on finding the ancient Talisman of Set.

Wheatley, like the marvellous Agatha Christie, was ahead of his time for pacing and plot. I couldn’t put this book down: it was all suspense, from the first realisation that Simon is mixed up in black magic to the climactic chase across Europe. The characters were all entertaining, especially Rex, the gung-ho American with a big heart.

Gripping, sinister, and fast moving, The Devil Rides Out made for excellent pre-Halloween reading. My next task is to track down the 1967 film version which stars Christopher Lee as de Richleau because I’m sure it would be hilarious

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter by Seth Grahame-Smith is next on my reading list in anticipation of the upcoming film adaptation.

Favourite Books

2011-08-23T20:09:00.000+09:30

This week I voted in a favourite books poll run by the Sydney Story Factory in conjunction with the Sydney Morning Herald. Artists will be designing new covers for a book of their choosing from the top 50 and these will be sold at auction with proceeds going to the Sydney Story Factory. Keep an eye on their website for results and get behind this excellent initiative.

It was this poll that got me reflecting not only on my favourite books, but on the concept of favourite books in general. I love hearing about other people’s favourite stories, and over the years I have discovered some wonderful books and authors through recommendations including Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle, Paulina Simmons’ The Bronze Horseman, and Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend.

I regularly pore over Top 100 lists looking for new inspiration in undiscovered gems - not necessarily the 'best' books, but something immensely enjoyable to read and something vouched for and loved by another reader. To this end I am often surprised by the books taking up residence in the top ten. A few stalwart regulars remain, but more and more people vote for very new bestsellers which, excellent as they may be, have surely not had the time to find a truly strong footing in lists of cherished favourites. For sentimental me, true favourites are unassailed by trends and literary flashes in the proverbial pan. They are the books which we can read and read again, that we love flipping through to find a half-remembered quote, that hooked us from a first reading, inspired us, made us think, made us smile. They helped shape our reading tastes and influence our future book purchases. We recall their characters fondly, like distant family members and old friends.

It is no small thing to be included on a list of favourites and, for the record, here are mine...

The Hobbit - JRR Tolkein

The first time I encountered The Hobbit, it was read to my class in primary school - an event which catapulted that particular teacher to new heights of respect and coolness - and I loved it from the very first pages. Years later, I received a lovely hardback edition as a farewell gift when I left an old job, after many times lamenting the poor declining condition of my battered paperback, and the two sit side by side on my bookshelf. I can’t part with the paperback even though it is falling apart - I bought it that same year in primary school. While the order of the books on this list may vary at different times, The Hobbit remains firmly fixed in the top spot.

Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

There’s nothing like writing an honours thesis on a book to ignite irritation (Meg, circa 2006: “John Fowles is foul...”), but somehow P&P survived my thesis and therefore avoided being supplanted on this list by its endearing forerunner, Sense and Sensibility. The first book I ever bought from the 'classics' section, P&P is funny, romantic and satisfying. Imagine what might have happened had I picked up Moby Dick instead that day? I might never have ventured near the classics section ever again...

Black Beauty - Anna Sewell

I was one of those girls who loved stories about ponies. There, I said it. And you know what? I still am.

Dracula - Bram Stoker

If you visit this blog often, you will know about my affection for vampires. Admittedly, as much as I’d like to say I climbed aboard the bandwagon for intelligent, literary reasons, it was a teenage crush on Brad Pitt which started me off following his turn as Pantene-haired Louis in Interview with the Vampire (obviously the subtext was completely lost on thirteen year old me). Dracula was the first proper vampire book I read, however, and I am forever grateful that I chose such a logical starting point. The book is atmospheric and genuinely scary in places - I still shudder as poor Jonathon first sees Dracula climb out of the window and descend the walls of his castle.

The Day of the Triffids - John Wyndham

One of the things I find most challenging about compiling any Top 5 list is choosing what will fill the last spot, and favourite books are no different. I’ve always been indecisive and the last on the list comes at the exclusion of every other book, making it something of a big deal. The Day of the Triffids, for me, was completely unexpected, totally compelling and played on my mind for days. It only improves on a second or third reading, and that's why it makes the cut for my Top 5.

If you have a favourite book or a recommendation, I'd love to hear about it. Just hit the 'post a comment' link below.

Next up for me? After a few months of reading travel books in order to plan fantasy overseas trips, I’m still working through volume one of George RR Martin’s enormous Song of Ice and Fire series. I’m still deliberating whether or not to commit to the second volume right away, but I think a quick detour may be in order. Top of my list at the moment are Margaret Atwood’s The Penelopiad or spoofy horror Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. I’ll keep you posted.

Review: Frenchman's Creek

2011-06-19T15:06:00.001+09:30

Frenchman’s Creek – Daphne Du Maurier (1941)

Pampered Lady Dona St Columb, bored by the royal court and her tiresome husband, absconds to her family’s Cornwall estate with her two children. There she encounters sexy French pirate, Jean-Benoit Aubréy, who has been using the secluded creek on her property as a base for his attacks on wealthy local estate owners.

Frenchman’s Creek at first appears a simplistic romping historical romance with shades of Harlequin Mills and Boon – and it is certainly Du Maurier’s most obviously categorised work – yet there is something almost paradoxical about her approach which sets the novel somehow apart. It is atmospheric and suspenseful but more light hearted than her other novels and, traditionally, Du Maurier's rich, dreamy prose illuminates idyllic Cornwall and her characters are beautifully portrayed.

Dona is thoroughly entertaining with her caustic wit and questionable scruples – she makes an engaging heroine as she negotiates between swashbuckling adventure and responsibility. Yet in Dona we also find the novel’s greater complexities – notions of identity and self – and it is this juxtaposition that lifts Frenchman’s Creek out of its genre pigeon hole.

Frenchman’s Creek is at times melodramatic, often whimsical and implausible, but beautifully written and utterly entertaining.

Resurrection

2011-06-04T12:33:00.002+09:30

You might say the first half of 2011 has not been a blogging success, and you would be absolutely correct. I had been happily consistent with Paperback City towards the end of last year, but this year I have been overtaken, thwarted by other plans, distracted, lazy.

Since we last spoke back in January, I have written much but read less. I finished a complete first draft of a novel, for one thing, and I’m surprised about the odd gauntlet of emotions it generated. I was proud of myself, enormously inspired and excited. I was triumphant. And then, looking down at my manuscript – printed at last and tied together with red ribbon – I was gripped with indescribable fear. The hard part wasn’t over at all. A draft is nothing. Now I would have to let people read the damn thing and have them point out all the flaws in my paper baby. Worse still, the prospect of fixing it. The rewriting, the editing. Correcting my meandering nonsensical plot and excising big chunks of my ham-fisted prose. It’s a daunting, unpleasant exercise.

Three months later, I still haven’t started.

I couldn’t find my reading groove at the start of the year, despite some shining moments. After the pure escapism of John Darnton’s Neanderthal, I worked my way through a mixed bag of reading that included: Megan Abbott’s steamy 50s genre piece, Die a Little; Margaret Atwood’s big Booker winning saga, The Blind Assassin; Jasper Fforde’s colourful Shades of Grey; and the newest Sookie Stackhouse book, Dead Reckoning by Charlaine Harris.

Closing down sales at both Angus and Robertson and Borders stores severely wounded my bank balance and forced me to implement a book buying ban until the number of unread books on the shelves at home reaches ten or less. This struck me initially as a stroke of genius, a worthy challenge indeed, something even to blog about. But then, overwhelmed by choice perhaps, or procrastinating as ever, I mounted a revolt against my own regime, opting to immediately shun new books in favour of a time honoured favourite.

I decided it was time to re-read the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which was like catching up with an old friend. I am amazed as ever by the complexity and completeness of Tolkien’s Middle Earth, and the deft hand with which he manages his enormous cast and intricate plot. The Fellowship of the Ring remains my favourite of the three, particularly the last half as the fellowship travel through Moria and Lothlorien, to break apart at the Falls of Rauros.

I found I did read these books differently in the shadow of Peter Jackson’s movies, and for the most part I really didn’t mind. That said, I’m not sure I’ll ever quite forgive the exclusion of any sort of resolution of Faramir and Eowyn’s stories. I can’t help but feel that having them merely share a coy look for one brief moment at the end of The Return of the King is somehow doing them, as two very interesting characters, a great injustice.

I’m not sure what’s next on my reading list, because Tolkien is often a hard act to follow. I’ll do my best though, to let you know.

Review: Neanderthal

2011-01-11T19:31:00.003+10:30

Neanderthal - John Darnton (1996)

Summer holidays mean one thing: summer holiday reading. I always like to balance the busy Christmas season with a good dose of easy reading knowing I'm likely to be distracted, interrupted, and not at my brainy best. With this in mind, John Darnton's Neanderthal, a scientific thirller in the vein of Michael Crichton, promised to be just what the doctor ordered.

Rival scientists and former lovers, Matt Mattison and Susan Arnot, are hired by a shady research institute to track down their missing former professor. Professor Kellicut, it seems, was on a top secret mission that has the potential to challenge everything the scientific community has ever known about human history. Susan and Matt mount a perilous expedition to the roof of the world in order to locate him, finding themselves caught up in events more dangerous than they could ever have imagined.

Thick with drama, suspense and adventure, and capturing the confusion of ancient history made suddenly modern, there are shades of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World in Darnton's novel. It is heavily and thoroughly researched, which lends it believability and strength, however the technical information was not as seamlessly integrated into the narrative as I would have liked. Much of it was disseminated through lengthy dialogue which sometimes hampered the action and could have been greatly condensed.

The characters were good fun, though not terribly original (the very premise echoes Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and I was constantly picturing missing Kellicut as Sean Connery playing Dr Jones Senior). Matt and Susan made for entertaining protagonists, though less entertaining love interests, and the silent members of the hominid tribes were cleverly portrayed. I enjoyed good humoured Rudy and shady Van, but found Kane to be too much a military cardboard cut out - full of potential but largely underdeveloped.

Despite its shortfalls, Neanderthal was suitably page-turning, neatly plotted and a whole lot of fun. A nice slice of enjoyable escapism, it made for ideal summer reading.

End of Year Round Up 2010

2010-12-31T11:43:00.000+10:30

Here we are at the end of another year, and once more Paperback City has been neglected in favour of the endless frivolities of the Christmas season. I've been more focused on eating and drinking and family time than reading of late, but I'm pretty pleased overall that I've managed a few good reviews and read a pile of excellent books this year.

A big book highlight of the year was Adelaide Writers' Week back in March, where I was thoroughly inspired by some excellent authors who braved the hot day to talk to the crowd about their craft. I got to attend sessions by Irvine Welsh, Audrey Niffenegger, Sarah Waters, Markus Zusak and Sarah Dunant and they were all marvellous.

I've also been very happy with my own writing efforts this year. The Great Write Off Challenge in October was particularly inspiring and great fun. I'm not sure that I'm all that happy with my rough ramblings, but I'm pretty pleased with some of my ideas and the overall amount of writing I'm churning out in drafts. 2010 has certainly reminded me how much I love writing, and I hope to devote a lot more time to it in the coming year (which will also mean improvement, one would hope!).

Here's a list of the books I have read this year. I was going to pick out my favourites, but I've decided you can dive in and figure that out on your own. I have linked to reviews if I wrote one in case you missed any along the way...

1. Pirate Latitudes - Michael Crichton
2. I Am Legend - Richard Matheson
3. The Witches of Eastwick - John Updike
4. Coraline - Neil Gaiman
5. The Full Cupboard of Life (No. 1 Ladies Detectives Agency Book 5) - Alexander McCall Smith
6. The Man Who Fell to Earth - Walter Tevis
7. The White Lioness - Henning Mankell
8. Orpheus Lost - Janette Turner Hospital
9. Interview With the Vampire - Anne Rice
10. The House on the Strand - Daphne Du Maurier
11. The Little Stranger - Sarah Waters
12. How I Live Now - Meg Rosoff
13. Flying Too High (Phryne Fisher Mysteries Book 2) - Kerry Greenwood
14. The Road - Cormac McCarthy
15. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - Steig Larsson
16. Dead in the Family (Southern Vampire Mysteries / Sookie Stackhouse Book 10) - Charlaine Harris
17. In the Company of Cheerful Ladies (No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency Book 6) - Alexander McCall Smith
18. Fevre Dream - George RR Martin
19. The Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
20. The Girl Who Played With Fire - Steig Larsson
21. Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
22. Faceless Killers - Henning Mankell
23. Wolf Hall - Hilary Mankell
24. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
25. Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief - Rick Riordan
26. Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters - Rick Riordan
27. Percy Jackson and the Titan's Curse - Rick Riordan
28. Percy Jackson and the Battle of the Labyrinth - Rick Riordan
29. Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian - Rick Riordan
30. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest - Steig Larsson
31. Let the Right One In - John Ajvide Lindqvist
32. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
33. Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency - Douglas Adams
34. Her Fearful Symmetry - Audrey Niffenegger

I'm currently reading a very fun Crichton-esque adventure romp called Neanderthal by John Darnton. Look out for my review early in the new year!

Happy new year to all of you. I hope you celebrate in style!

xx

The journey of a thousand page hits begins with a single post.

2010-12-02T08:02:00.002+10:30

Goodness me! Overnight, Paperback City passed 1000 on the hit counter.

Happy day!

Thanks for reading, dropping in, coming back and helping the hit counter climb. I love that you do.

My review of Douglas Adams' Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency will be along shortly, but first, in the name of nostalgia, here's where it all began.

Review: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

2010-11-28T18:34:00.003+10:30

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - Mary Ann Schaffer and Annie Barrows (2008)

As someone who loves receiving handwritten letters in the post (something which, I might add, happens all too infrequently), Mary Ann Shaffer's epistolary novel about a book club whose members take up correspondence with London writer Juliet Ashton in 1946 had an immediate appeal. I admit to being put off by the lenghty title, but this book won me over almost instantly with its tongue in cheek humour, its cast of entertaining characters, and its big heart.

Juliet Ashton is a newspaper columnist whose humourous wartime reflections have made her something of success, but whose own wartime experiences have left her world-weary and disillusioned. Out of the blue she receives a letter from Dawsey Adams, from Guernsey, who has acquired a book which used to belong her and who writes in the hope that she could send him more works by the same author. So begins Juliet's correspondence with the members of the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - a group created as a spur of the moment alibi when the founding members were caught outside after curfew by their German occupiers.

I couldn't help but be charmed by Shaffer's cast of characters, particularly eccentric Isola with her parrot and her potions. If I could make any criticism, it would be that the characters are almost too likeable, too heartwarming. But perhaps that's what this book is really about: it celebrates friendship above all else and I enjoyed reading as Juliet began again to believe in goodness, and kindness, and life. If this book was too much of anything, I didn't really mind. I smiled the whole way through and felt a whole lot better at the end.

Big thanks to Catherine for the recommendation!

Review: Let the Right One In

2010-11-14T09:56:00.002+10:30

Let the Right One In - John Ajvide Lindqvist (2004)

I mentioned in my post about Halloween reading that John Ajvide Lindqvist's novel, Let the Right One In, was next on my reading list. Not being a horror aficionado, I don't have much of a reference point for what makes 'good' horror, but I was after some shocks and some thrills and something that would keep me awake reading at night.

Twelve year old Oskar is lonely, incontinent, bullied within an inch of his life and keeps a morbid scrapbook of newspaper clippings about murders. When Eli, a strange and dirty little girl who Oskar thinks is about his age, moves next door, Oskar finds a friend and starts, finally, to stand up for himself. But there's something strange about Eli and her 'dad' - their presence raises suspicion as a spate of murders moves increasingly closer to home.

Set in Sweden in the 1980s, this is almost as much a coming of age tale as a horror story, and Lindqvist succeeds in weaving social commentary into the fabric of narrative. There are plently of shocks and gore, but this book is so much more than a simple vampire novel. It's more about the people around Eli than Eli herself and Lindqvist creates a cast of tragic figures, crippled by the darker aspects of humanity and suffering because of it. Lindqvist's ability to create such fully realised characters, and to draw the reader completely into the psyche of each, make Let the Right One In a dark, heavy, and confronting read.

A good read, but not an easy one, Let the Right One In is in turns gutwrenching, disturbing, saddening and bittersweet.

Review: The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest

2010-11-05T09:34:00.010+10:30

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest - Stieg Larsson (2007)

Scandinavian crime fiction has had something of a renaissance in recent years, and I've been slow to hop on the bandwagon. I've barely seen the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the talents emerging from the chilly north, but Stieg Larsson's posthumous Millennium trilogy has been a very good place to start.

Following on from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and The Girl Who Played With Fire, Hornet's Nest sees Lisbeth Salander, the titular Girl, guarded in a hospital bed, charged with attempted murder and declared a mentally unstable threat to society. Salander is a loose end in a conspiracy that goes to the highest levels of Sapo, the state security police, and her very existence threatens to send the world of the corrupt men responsible crashing down.

Where Dragon Tattoo can be read effectively as a stand alone novel, Played with Fire and Hornet's Nest are two halves of the continuing story, the latter picking up only minutes from where the former left off and relentlessly pursuing answers to the questions set up in the first two novels. Larsson is not one to shy away from detail and his plotting is extremely well thought out - his technical descriptions are almost Crichton-esque in places and he manages his cast of hundreds adeptly. The prose, translated from Swedish by Reg Keeland, bristles with tension and the speedy pacing makes it a hard one to put down.

I get the most out of crime fiction when I don't know what's coming, and I was happily unsure of where Hornet's Nest was heading right until the end. I wasn't sure whether Larsson would let us off the hook with a happy ending, or whether he would have it all falling down around us. Even better, I wasn't sure which of those options I would have preferred.

Lisbeth Salander is one of the most compelling and complicated characters I have ever encountered - a fiercely reclusive pocket rocket with an unflinching moral compass. Mikael Blomqvist, celebrity journalist, shows shades of Sherlock Holmes in his investgations and never falters from his determination to stamp out corruption. Together, Salander and Blomqvist make a terrific duo and their alliance throughout this trilogy is fascinating as it unfolds.

Scary Books for Halloween

2010-10-23T09:14:00.012+10:30

I had an idea about a week ago that a post about good horror stories would be very timely indeed, given that Halloween is fast approaching. This thought came to me as I was staring down a jack-o-lantern in my local supermarket and trying to figure out why Halloween isn't a giant extravaganza for us in Australia like, I'm led to believe, it is for people in the US. Halloween is barrels of fun and, as far as I'm concerned, we should all get on board.

The gaping hole in my plan to regale you with bone-chilling reading ideas for the scary season revealed itself when I examined my book shelf and realised I don't actually read a lot of horror. Then I looked over at The Man's bookshelf and discovered it was doing it's very best impression of the 'Horror' section at Dymocks - it is a Stephen King / Clive Barker emporium. I knew I'd have to recruit The Man's horror expertise to my cause - between us, surely, we would have all our horror bases covered.

Consequently, we both came up with our Top 5 horror books and present them for you here:

Top 5 Horror Picks From My Bookshelf

1. Dracula - Bram Stoker
2. Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
3. Tales of Mystery and Imagination - Edgar Allan Poe
4. Fevre Dream - George R R Martin
5. The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson

Top 5 Horror Picks From The Man's Bookshelf

1. The Shining - Stephen King
2. Haunted - Chuck Palahniuk
3. The Hellbound Heart - Clive Barker
4. Tales of The Unexpected - Roald Dahl
5. The Last Battle - CS Lewis

I'm planning to knock over the last few chapters of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest this weekend, and then I'll be embarking on my own Halloween reading. This year I've picked Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist, which I really hope lives up to the hype.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

2010-10-16T09:00:00.006+10:30

Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief (2005)
Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters (2006)
Percy Jackson and the Titan's Curse (2007)
Percy Jackson and the Battle of the Labyrinth (2008)
Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian (2009)

If, like me, you enjoy a bit of youg adult fiction and want something to fill a vaguely Harry Potter shaped void in your life, get thee to a bookshop to pick up Rick Riordan's vastly entertaining Percy Jackson and the Olympians series.

Twelve year old Percy Jackson discovers he's the son of Posiedon, god of the sea. Not only is Posiedon his dad, but the other Olympians still exist too, hiding out on Mount Olympus, which is now the 600th floor of the Empire State Building. The books beg, borrow and steal from Greek mythology (especially from The Odyssey and Jason and the Argonauts for the first two books), but give the Gods and monsters a modern refresh - Ares as a biker was a particular fave, as was Medusa's garden statue emporium.

Obvious comparisons can be drawn between Percy Jackson and Harry Potter, but that's perhaps not giving these books enough credit in their own right. They are marvellously written, filled with wry wit, and give their intended young readers a bit of credit, which I especially like.

After reading all five books in quick succession, I found myself quite attached to Percy, Annabeth and Grover and, on finishing the last book, freely admit to feeling pretty darn sad to be bidding them farewell.

Rick Riordan is bringing Camp Half-Blood back to life in a second series, Heroes of Olympus, and the first book, The Lost Hero, is out now.

ALA Banned Books Week 2010

2010-10-01T06:49:00.003+09:30

By the way, kids: this week is the American Library Association's Banned Books Week.

Join the rebellion by grabbing a copy of JD Salinger's Catcher in the Rye, Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses or, if you fancy, Roald Dahl's James and the Giant Peach.

For more banned book inspiration, head to http://www.banned-books.com/

You might also like to pay a visit to the Huffington Post for a list of the top ten banned graphic novels.

Vitalogy

2010-09-14T21:12:00.007+09:30

I was extremely lucky to receive a copy of Vitalogy for my birthday, the hard to find medical book which is better known these days as a Pearl Jam album.

My edition is the 1940 updated edition, with 19 books bound in one large volume and new plates (which are terrific). I love the fold-out organs:

The treatments and remedies (adapted for the home, the layman and the family) are fascinating, horrendous and, often, completely hilarious. They include strange herbal concoctions, avoiding novel-reading or any other mental exertion (I'm looking at you, ladies), or simply a good dose of gin.

I am particularly pleased with the advice about whom to marry or not to marry, and share Vitalogy's top two rules for picking a partner here:

Two people of similar complexion and temperament should never marry. If they do it will prove a failure.
Two tall, slim people or two short, heavy-set people should not marry.

Also, gents, take note of the following:

"Don't marry a girl whose chief aim in life is dress; who hangs around dry goods or millinery stores like butterflies around a gorgeous flower. To dress extravagantly is a blot upon any woman's character. When the activity of the mind is taken up with finery the soul grows pinched and lean, the mind fails to develop, and such a woman cannot make a decent partner for any sensible man."

(I somehow knew that loitering at the dry goods store was no way to find a husband but I just can't stay away!)

Big thanks to Sally and Paul for the awesome present, it's a total treasure!

Paperback City v2.0

2010-09-12T10:00:00.007+09:30

And we’re back, ladies and gentlemen! Following a good dose of procrastination from assignments, I’m pleased to bring you a newly blue, re-vamped Paperback City. Ain’t she pretty?

The last time we spoke was in May, and since then I have read a stack of great books – too many, in fact, to list them all here. I will, though, give you a quick Top 5:

Neverwhere – Neil Gaiman
Fevre Dream – George R R Martin
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – Stieg Larsson
The Road – Cormac McCarthy
The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood

I have also been ensconced in a writing challenge with the amazing Rose Adam, where the goal is writing 50,000 cohesive words each in 10 weeks. The idea sprung from Nanowrimo, the annual one month writing challenge, but we were too impatient to wait until November and thought 10 weeks was a more sensible time frame for us.

Now we’re at the half way mark, I can say that it has been in turns inspiring, frustrating, and fun. It has also served to further distract me from important study and has given me all manner of shoulder pain from slouching over my little laptop in odd places. To give you an idea of how I’m tracking against the clock, there's still a lot of work to be done. I’ve hit only 18,000 words in 5 weeks, and let's just say that the emphasis so far is very much on quantity over quality.

Back soon to talk about the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series by Rick Riordan which, as it turns out, is pretty darn cool even if you’re not a twelve year old boy.

A return to the internet...

2010-05-09T09:45:00.009+09:30

The time it takes to get your internet connected after moving house would make an interesting timeframe for some sort of psychological or behavioural study. You get frustrated at not being able to find out what you recognise that familiar-looking actor from. You feel disturbingly isolated because you can’t access facebook. You realise there is nothing – NOTHING – except Top Gear on the television and, alarmingly, you discover that you can determine exactly what season you’re watching based on the stupidness of Richard Hammond’s hair. It’s a disturbing time indeed.

Of course, the other realisation is that it’s tricky to blog without the internet, and increased reading time means a slight backlog of reviews. I’ve read four books since last we met, so I’ve decided that some brevity is in order to bring you up to speed:

The House on the Strand – Daphne Du Maurier (1969)

Dick Young rents a house in Cornwall from his friend Professor Magnus Lane for the holidays. Part of the bargain is for Dick to act as guinea pig for one of Magnus’ new experimental drugs which transports the user back in time to the fourteenth century.

Once you have sorted your Champernounes from your Carminowe’s the interwoven storylines are both complete and enjoyable, and Dick as a spectator to the past, witnesses all manner of loyalty, betrayal, brutality and ruin. When the two plots begin to converge as Dick finds it harder and harder to separate the past from the present, Du Maurier really gets into the swing of things and the book is a hard one to put down.

The Little Stranger – Sarah Waters (2009)

Dr Farraday is called to Hundreds Hall and finds the once great estate in an advanced state of dilapidation and the Ayres family struggling to maintain it following the War. But the Ayres family have their own secrets and are haunted by a strange presence determined to eject them from their home.

Sarah Waters writes extremely well and The Little Stranger has just the right tone and pacing to prevent it smacking of a cliché ghost story. Though it reminded me of the Fall of the House of Usher, the supernatural elements are slightly light-handed and the social contexts ground the novel and lend it believability and strength.

How I Live Now – Meg Rosoff (2004)

I’m not a big reader of young adult fiction, but this one blew me away. Fifteen year old Daisy is sent by her stepmother to live in England on the eve of a fictional 21st Century war. Daisy and her cousins are separated and try desperately to stay alive, find each other again, and somehow put the pieces of their lives back together.

This book was amazingly readable. Daisy’s narration is laced with humour at the start, but as the story progresses we get swept up in the extremes of happiness and sadness, the shocks and horrors or war, and the devastation and hardship of coming back from the brink. Coming at shellshock from the perspective of children is very effective, and I found this an emotional read indeed.

Flying Too High (Phryne Fisher Mysteries #2) – Kerry Greenwood (2005)

Phryne Fisher, 1920s private investigator, is called upon to clear a man of murder and solve a kidnapping, while fitting in a spot of flying, redecorating her new house, and seducing a doctor.

Kerry Greenwood’s writing is stacked with humour and irony, and Phryne Fisher – perceptive, stylish and just a little promiscuous – is such good fun. I preferred her second adventure to the first, and found it a quick, light-hearted and enjoyable read

Book Review: Interview With the Vampire

2010-03-28T18:41:00.004+10:30

Interview With the Vampire – Anne Rice (1976)

I like books about vampires. I do not like books by Anne Rice. This is the third time I’ve delved into Anne Rice’s renowned vampire world and the third time I’ve laboured on, disheartened, underwhelmed and, dare I say it, a little bit bored. I had hoped for a quick page turning read, something to plough on through to break my ongoing reading funk. Alas, it was not to be.

I find Rice’s prose overwritten, far too serious, and her plot drags where it really needs to pick up the pace. Sections read more like the erotica she writes under the name of Anne Rampling, and is the sort of stuff you hope no one is reading over your shoulder on packed public transport. Where she does succeed is in her depiction of location and I particularly enjoyed the evocative setting of swampy Louisiana (which seems a recurring setting for vampire fiction), as well as superstitious eastern Europe and luxurious Paris.

I keep asking myself why it was I came back for a third helping, indifferent as I was to Pandora’s tiresome ancientness and The Vampire Armand. I’m sure the $3 second hand price tag had something to do with it. The film version had also hinted at some interesting characters who it might be worthwhile getting to know, but Louis’ constant guilt-ridden philosophising really got on my nerves and his relationship with Claudia is nothing short of unsettling. I did find Lestat entertaining, however, and his brattish whining was quite a fun shift from Louis’ eternal melancholy and deceitful Claudia’s nasty streak.

All in all? Enduringly popular with readers, but not for me.

Book Review: The White Lioness

2010-03-01T21:20:00.003+10:30

The White Lioness – Henning Mankell (1993)
Coming into a series on the third book, and not starting from the very beginning, is just breaking all of the rules. But when Swedish author Henning Mankell’s The White Lioness was thrust into my hands I was unaware that Detective Inspector Kurt Wallander had already graced the pages of three previous novels. Lucky for me, The White Lioness works pretty damn well as a stand alone novel.

From the opening chapter this was a hard one to put down. It has all the ingredients of well-cooked crime novel – mystery, a solid game of cat and mouse, a good dash of international intrigue. A missing woman, an exploding house, and a dismembered human finger - but what is the connection? Wallander needs all his wits about him as what seems to be an ordinary disappearance proves to share deadly connections with an extremist cell plotting the assassination of Nelson Mandela, with the aim of plunging South Africa into a long and chaotic civil war.

Mankell’s writing is dark, atmospheric and gripping and the contrast between peaceful, neutral Sweden and end of apartheid South Africa makes for an effective and evocative setting. Wallander is an interesting and flawed character, a good cop, dripping with human failings and with old age creeping steadily up behind. I enjoyed the shifting character perspectives for the depth they lent the storyline. Victor Mabasha, assassin and realist, was a particularly fascinating creation.

All in all? Absorbing crime fiction, with a solid helping of stark realism. Looking forward to reading more Kurt Wallander (and perhaps starting at the start…). Thanks to Sally for the recommendation!

Book Review: The Full Cupboard of Life

2010-02-28T18:43:00.003+10:30

The Full Cupboard of Life (No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency #5) – Alexander McCall Smith (2003)

I have always had a soft spot for crime fiction but sometimes find the endless murder, torture and autopsies a bit overwhelming. That sort of gore doesn’t always do much for one’s mood. Enter Alexander McCall Smith and his No 1 Ladies Detective Agency series: the perfect tonic for anyone who has overdosed on crime. Set in Botswana, think of Mma Ramotswe, proprietor of the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency, as an African Miss Marple. No. 1 Ladies has the same light hearted vibe of Christie, laced with understated humour and warmth.

The Full Cupboard of Life, the fifth book in the series, was my favourite so far. Mma Ramostwe is hired by a wealthy woman to determine which of her suitors are legitimate and Mma Potokwani, manager of the orphan farm, requests that Mr JLB Maketoni undertakes a sponsored fundraising parachute jump.

McCall Smith’s obvious love of Botswana and its people shines through in this in his vivid and charming characters. Mma Ramotswe is shrewd and observant, but never unkind , Mr JLB Matekoni, stoic mechanic and sometime philosopher, and Mma Makutsi, bespectacled graduate of the Botswana Secretarial College – all of them bristle with life and vibrancy. Winner of the 2003 Saga Award for Wit, The Full Cupboard of Life is genuinely mood-lifting and real treat.

All in all? A truly enjoyable reading experience – stay tuned for my review of book 6 in the series!

Where for art thou, Mojo?

2010-01-25T09:25:00.010+10:30

Sometimes I go through phases where everything I’m reading is just wrong. There’s nothing better than reading something and realising it is the exact right book for you to be reading at that exact moment. It speaks to you and you can’t put it down. It’s the best thing you could be reading. But every so often I pick up a book and think: “nope, you’re really not doing it for me”. It’s when my reading mojo takes a short holiday.

Recently I read The Witches of Eastwick by John Updike. Beautifully written, but chock full of wholly unlikeable characters. Updike’s prose is amazing, but the bitterness which envelopes the narrative was a real downer. I can’t bring myself to write a more detailed review than that. Just watch the movie. It’s way more fun.

So, to entice my reading mojo home, I picked up the first in a three part fantasy series by fave fantasy writers Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman, Forging the Darksword. And I could cry with disappointment! 100 pages in and nothing has happened, short of lengthy descriptions of a world that is, actually, fairly dull. Everyone is magical, except this one guy. And he’s not really doing anything yet. Where’s the action? Where’s the unstoppable urge to keep reading that I got from the Dragonlance Chronicles and the Death Gate Cycle? Where are the superb characters like Tanis and Haplo?

Needless to say, my reading mojo is still at large.

So instead of my usual review, here my Top 5 books I read in 2009…

1. Southern Vampire Mysteries / Sookie Stackhouse Books 1-9 (2004-2009)
This is what I am talking about when I say un-put-down-able. I read this whole series in about a week. Smart, sexy, funny, great characters. I want more, more, more and I want it now, now, now.

2. The Scarlet Pimpernel – Baroness Orczy (1913)
This was such an unexpected, happy surprise, lent to me by a fellow tram commuter who thought I’d enjoy it being ‘a reader’. And I did enjoy it. Gotta love ‘that demmed Pimpernel!’

3. War of the Worlds – HG Wells (1898)
On my ‘to read’ list for years, finally got around to it. So brilliant, despite mentally lapsing into songs from Jeff Wayne’s musical as I read. “No, Nathaniel! Oh, no, Nathaniel!” and “Farewell Thunderchild” being particularly frequent. Damn good sci fi which has aged remarkably well.

4. The Graveyard Book – Neil Gaiman (2009)
My love affair with Neil Gaiman was kindled this year, as you will know if you’re a frequent reader of this blog. The Graveyard Book, story of Nobody Owens, a boy who lives in a graveyard, won the Newbery Medal 2009. Dark, engrossing, and beautifully told.

5. Sharp Teeth – Toby Barlow (2008)
A ancient pack of lycanthropes have survived in downtown Los Angeles. This book, written in verse, was just awesome. Quick paced, dark, and beautifully imagined. Thanks to Lyndon for the recommendation.

Book Review: Pirate Latitudes

2010-01-04T10:08:00.002+10:30

Pirate Latitudes – Michael Crichton (2009)

The first review I wrote for this blog was of Michael Crichton’s Prey. It seems fitting then, that after an end of year hiatus, the blog should start up again in 2010 with another of Crichton’s offerings.

After Crichton’s death in 2008, the complete Pirate Latitudes manuscript was found on his computer by his assistant. Seemingly publishers thought the same as me: Crichton plus pirates cannot possibly be anything but great! Thought to be completed in the mid-90s and it’s almost a shame that its publication had to follow in the wake of the enormous successes of Pirates of the Caribbean. Indeed, it was hard not to draw parallels between the two as I was reading.

The book opens in Port Royal, Jamaica, in the 17th Century, and Captain Charles Hunter, ‘respectable privateer’, hatches a plan with Governor Sir James Almont to raid the impregnable Matanceros and capture a Spanish treasure galleon.

Crichton’s narrative sweeps along with great speed – almost too much speed to really get a good grip on what makes his characters tick. Hunter, Lazue, Mr Ender, Bassa, Sanson… all of them are going through the motions but who are they really? Even the villainous Cazalla seems a little thin on the ground.

Crichton – Mr Techno-Thirller himself – here proves that he is also adept in historical fiction. All the elements of good pirate stories make an appearance, but not to the point of being unbearably cliché. Where the book succeeds is its seamless integration of thorough research. There’s so much detail about 17th Century weaponry and seamanship, and frankness about the brutality of life in Port Royal, that it’s hard not to get caught up in the sweeping history of a heavily romanticised period. Happily, and in typical Crichton style, the layers of detail don’t feel heavy handed; they enhance rather than clog up the narrative.

All in all? What Pirate Latitudes lacks in brilliance it more than makes up for in fun. We will miss you, Mr Crichton.

Book Review: Persuasion

2009-10-04T10:47:00.003+10:30

Persuasion – Jane Austen (1818)

Of my favourite authors, I always like to keep one book set aside for a rainy day. There’s nothing sadder than realising you’ve read the entire repertoire of a much loved author and will never have that special happy glow of a brand new book by an old fave. Jane Austen is like this for me, and Persuasion was my rainy day Austen, but at last I was persuaded (ha!) to pick up Auntie Jane’s offering and give it a go. (My sister informed me that I would quite like Captain Wentworth).

Anne Elliot is possibly Austen’s saddest heroine. She spends the bulk of the novel heartbroken, unloved and disrespected by her family, and forced into an unhappy existence by the insistence of Lady Russell that she should not marry Captain Wentworth. The story takes place eight years after the breakdown of the engagement, and Anne has never truly recovered. But the Elliot’s decreasing wealth leads them to lease out their Kellynch estate to Admiral Croft and his wife (Wentworth’s sister), and Wentworth again surfaces in Anne’s life.

While still a book about judging people by position and title rather than their good character, Persuasion is more cynical and serious than P&P or Emma. It’s also the more militant of Austen’s works, with almost every male character (certainly the worthiest fellows) being naval officers, and the war being of concern to everyone as they await – in whatever capacity – for their men to come back from sea.

What surprised me most about Persuasion was how emotionally draining it is to read. Austen here proves herself a master of heartbreak and tragedy as well as biting satire and humour. Written from Anne’s perspective there is no escape from her inner turmoil and despair, no shelter from the hurt of her family’s disregard. She is a brilliant creation. And Captain Wentworth? Worth the wait, more like.

All in all? Serious and emotional, but as good an Austen as ever.

Book Review: Stardust

2009-09-28T18:37:00.002+09:30

Stardust – Neil Gaiman (1998)

Oh, Neil Gaiman, how ever did I live without you?

Set in the town of Wall, on the borders of Faerie, Stardust tells the story of Tristran Thorne who, in an attempt to win the heart of pretty Victoria, vows to cross the wall into Faerie and fetch the star they see fall to earth. Little does he know that, in Faerie, the star takes human form and that she is unwillingly swept up in two plots which would end in her undoing: one surrounding the inheritance of the kingdom of Stormhold, and involving the Lilim witches, who want her heart to retain their own youth.

The writing is a slight departure from Gaiman’s usual style, but still marvellous. It reads very much like a traditional fairytale and has a good dose of humour to boot. Tristran is a charming and entertaining hero; Yvaine, the fallen star, has some truly funny and very human moments; and I especially liked the ghosts of the sons of Stormhold, who were an excellent blend of creepy and hilarious.

I recently saw the Paramount Pictures adaptation starring Charlie Cox and Claire Danes (quite good). I was especially excited to discover that the market scenes were filmed in Elm Hill in Norwich (my absolute favourite part of Norwich, by the way) and that on my recent trip there in June this year I took a photo of my Mum outside of the Briton’s Arms pub – the very pub, unbeknownst to me, that was used as the Slaughtered Prince in the film. (This is where the film nerd in me does a small, happy dance).

All in all? My love affair with Mr Gaiman continues…

Book Review: I Capture the Castle

2009-09-28T18:11:00.003+09:30

I Capture the Castle – Dodie Smith (1949)

Some books come into your life guns a-blazing, blasting forth from every bookshop window, with everyone around you declaring them brilliant. And that’s all well and good, but some books also have the ability to sneak up on you, and these happy little surprises are often the ones that I find the most endearing. One such book for me was I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith (more famous as author of One hundred and One Dalmatians. No kidding).

I Capture the Castle, narrated through the journal of Cassandra Mortmain, tells the story of her eccentric, impoverished family who live in a crumbling English castle in the 1930s. Their fortunes and futures change with the arrival of the Cottons – the American heirs to the castle. With Cassandra's coming of age and romance, it's part Jane Eyre and part Judy Blume.

Written during Smith's sojourn in America, the writing is perhaps a homage - it's almost poetic in its depiction of the English landscape in Cassandra's heartfelt attempts to capture the beauty around her. The characters are beautifully crafted and memorable, each with their own eccentricities. Cassandra is perceptive, bright and incredibly funny, her sister Rose is beautiful and bored. Topaz, the glamorous, model stepmother who ‘communes with nature’, sweet Stephen who gets swept off to become a film star, and the once-famous writer, Mr Mortmain, holed up in the castle gatehouse with writer’s block, reading detective novels: all of them are wonderful.

All in all? Funny, bittersweet, and utterly charming. I wish I had discovered this book years ago – teenage me would have loved it.

Book Review: Unholy Crusade

2009-09-03T20:20:00.003+09:30

Unholy Crusade – Dennis Wheatley (1967)

My mum always said that she used to love reading books by a chap called Dennis Wheatley. I’d never heard of him, but at his peak he was listed among the likes of Agatha Christie and Ian Fleming, and a little internet research told me he was famous for occult novels and rich adventure stories. Basically, he sounded like good fun, and a recent shopping excursion left me equipped with a $3 copy of the intriguingly-titled Unholy Crusade. (My edition, to add to the shroud of mystery, has no blurb and is bound in a delightful red vinyl sort of material with a gold embossed picture of a goat’s head – it seemed like I was in for something interesting at least).

‘Lucky’ Adam Gordon is a Scottish writer who discovers in childhood that he can experience his past lives in his dreams. Intrigued by his visions of ancient Mexico Adam travels to Mexico City and gets caught up in sparking a revolution ostensibly organised by church officials, but with clandestine underpinnings in old religion, ancient gods, and human sacrifice in the Mexican jungle.

With the Clive Cusslers of our modern world in mind, Wheatley’s writing at first felt a bit dated and detail-heavy. The first 100 pages or so could do with less background and more plot points – the story dragged where it needed to move forward and it was his overly-long descriptions of Mexican history and Mexican politics which found me losing interest. That said, the action sequences were pithy and fast-paced, and when the plot really got moving (albeit a bit late for my liking) it was all proper page-turning action in the league of Robert Ludlum or, dare I say it, Dan Brown. The slow start could just be symptomatic of the era Wheatley was writing in and I’m glad I persevered. The characters were well constructed and highly detailed, and I found the supporting characters – particularly Wing Commander Jeremy Hunterscombe – hugely entertaining.

All in all? Old-fashioned exotic adventure with a dash of sacrifice. Good fun.

Book Review: Cold Comfort Farm

2009-08-31T20:56:00.004+09:30

Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons (1932)

As much as I enjoy recommending good books to others, there’s nothing better than being on the receiving end of a really good recommendation. Big thanks go out to Meg for getting me to add this one to the list way back when we were at uni (yes, it’s really taken me this long). Big thanks also to Penguin for bringing out their super cheap editions of classic books, some of which – like this one – are tricky to find. Sure, the orange covers are a little kitsch, but the $9.95 price tag is a real winner.

A clever parody of rural novels (think DH Lawrence and gloomy Thomas Hardy), Cold Comfort Farm follows newly orphaned Flora Poste and her arrival at a dreary farm owned by her dreary relatives, the Starkadders. Cold Comfort Farm is not prospering, and all its inhabitants are afflicted with some sort of emotional malaise, from isolated matriarch Aunt Ada Doom, through ladies man and scoundrel Seth, to flighty Elfine. Equipped with her Handbook of Common Sense, Flora – modern cosmopolitan woman that she is – sets about systematically (and humorously) adapting her relatives to suit contemporary times.

This one took a bit of warming up to. It wasn’t a challenging read, but it takes time to get your head around who is who in the lengthy list of characters, and the Starkadders’ dialect took some mastering. That said, the characters – once properly deciphered – prove to be hilarious archetypes from the genre Gibbons is referencing and Flora, with her astute observations and penchant for organisation, is really good fun. Gibbons’ writing is livelier and more entertaining than I had expected and there is so much humour in this novel, it seems like it would improve still more on a second reading.

All in all? A clever and funny play on a gloomy genre. Loved this one.

Book Review: Survivor

2009-08-31T20:50:00.003+09:30

Survivor – Chuck Palahniuk (1999)

I’m always a little nervous when it comes to re-reading a book that I’ve not read for quite a few years. There are always the old favourites; the ones you read every couple of years and get all warm and fuzzy about. And then there are the ones that you read and just don’t get around to reading again for – let’s say – a decade. I remember Survivor being a book that hit me over the head when it was first published, and I was so happy (relieved, even – I’ve recommended this book to so many) to find that I still thought it was well-conceived, well-written, and hugely interesting.

Survivor, Palahniuk’s follow up to his big debut, Fight Club, again delves into his pet themes of consumerism and disillusionment. When the members of the Creedish death cult commit suicide, Tender Branson, domestic servant and last Creedish-man standing in the outside world, gets sucked into the media machine and churned out the other side a heavily-manufactured and highly-marketed celebrity messiah.

This is vintage Palahniuk and I love the dark humour and the sheer freakishness of the story. I love the publishing gimmicks too – the pages and chapters count backwards – counting down as Tender tells his story to the black box of a hijacked passenger jet.

I say this is vintage Palahniuk, and to me that makes a huge difference. These days I’m finding his writing more and more the same, and it’s nice to know that his earlier work still strikes a chord, even where his newer writing leaves me a bit empty. It doesn’t feel contrived or too deliberate. Maybe it’s because so many people try to replicate Palahniuk’s dark dystopian style. Maybe it’s because Palahniuk himself is replicating his own work again and again instead of coming out guns a-blazing with something fresh and strong and newly shocking which we – as needy, greedy readers – expect. Maybe that’s one of the perils of being Chuck Palahniuk. It’s not all roses. Sometimes you are Jack’s lack of creativity.

All in all? Confronting, darkly amusing, and incredibly clever: Palahniuk before he was just too Palahniuk.

Book Review: The Remains of the Day

2009-08-09T17:08:00.004+09:30

The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro (1989)

With the longlist of finalists for this year’s Booker prize being announced, I decided it was time to cross another Booker winner off my list before the list itself got a book longer. It’s never an easy task to choose one book out of so many which have already been declared ‘the best’ in English-language fiction for their year of publication. There was umm-ing, and a certain amount of ahh-ing, but a decision was eventually made. Enter Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day.

Set in England after the Second World War, The Remains of the Day is the portrait of Mr Stevens, butler of Darlington Hall, reflecting back on his life during a motoring holiday to visit an old colleague, Miss Kenton.

The plot is deceivingly simple. Ishiguro paints an evocative picture of life in an English stately home, and yet as his narrative unravels, it seems all at once to comment on social propriety, loyalty, dignity and the decline of English aristocracy.

I really felt the tragedy of Stevens’ character and the idea that being a butler is not something you do, it’s something you are. Stevens’ unending professionalism at the cost of emotion and feeling is nothing short of heartbreaking, and Ishiguro cleverly juxtaposes Stevens’ increasing inability to maintain his own high standards as he ages with the role of butler itself becoming more and more superfluous as post-war England surges towards new levels of modernity.

Not a fast-paced novel by anyone’s standard, but the slower mood matches thematically and the novel’s sense of authenticity would be lost if Stevens’ narration were more energetic or rapidly told.

All in all? Thoughtful, multi-layered, and deeply moving. Everything a Booker prize winner should be.

Book Review: American Gods

2009-07-30T17:24:00.003+09:30

American Gods – Neil Gaiman (2001)

At any given time, there are always a handful of books on my bookshelf which I am yet to read. That they’ve been neglected for as long as they have is not a reflection of their quality; it’s more to do with how easily I get distracted by other stories, borrowed or bought, that leave them sat upon my shelf awaiting the proverbial rainy day. One such book, rescued for $9 from the dreary confines of a second-hand bookshop (the excellent one on the Strand at Port Elliot to be exact), was Neil Gaiman’s acclaimed American Gods.

Gaiman’s novel works on the idea that immigrants to America, when they brought their beliefs in gods and spirits to the new country, conjured each of their gods into tangible human form (Odin, Anansi, Horus and Anubis, to name just a few). There is a ‘storm coming’ – a war between the old gods whose power is waning as people’s belief in them fades, and the new gods of modernity: the internet, media, drugs, technology. Somewhere in the middle we find Shadow, Gaiman’s taciturn protagonist, hired by Wednesday while he musters the old gods to war, but perhaps endowed with his own purpose and his own part to play.

Winner of the 2002 Hugo, Nebula and Bram Stoker Awards for Best Novel, American Gods is part fantasy, part myth, part something undeniably American, and Gaiman’s creative prowess is enough to make even the worthiest aspiring writer shake in their boots. The writing is all at once filled with energy, poignancy, nightmare and light; and tackles heavy themes and tricky symbology with ease. Legend blurs with reality so convincingly that the plot never feels jarring or insincere, the characters feel authentic and real, and the story is so complete it really does read like a battle for the soul.

All in all? A truly interesting concept, executed with a deft hand. Big thumbs up for this one.

Book Review: Dead Unitl Dark

2009-07-26T12:43:00.002+09:30

Dead Until Dark (Southern Vampire Mysteries / Sookie Stackhouse Book 1) – Charlaine Harris (2004)

Vampires are the new black, and I can’t get enough of them. My sister recently got me hooked on HBO series True Blood (from creator Alan Ball, of Six Feet Under fame), set in fictional Louisiana town Bon Temps, and in an America where vampires have “come out of the coffin” to live in the open among humans. I enjoyed the show so much, that when I discovered that it was based on a series of nine books by author Charlaine Harris, I made great haste to the nearest Dymocks and devoured the first in a matter of days.

Waitress and telepath Sookie Stackhouse, always a misfit because of her ‘gift’, finds solace and relaxation in her relationship with vampire Bill Compton – the only person whose thoughts she cannot hear. But Bon Temps is a still a small town with small town values, and the influx of vampires doesn’t always go down so well with the locals and Sookie’s relationship doesn’t sit quite right in the minds of many. Sookie has a lot to contend with already when a series of seemingly vampire-related murders become increasingly close to home.

Obvious comparisons can be drawn to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the Twilight saga, and all manner of new paranormal romance fiction (Laurell K Hamilton springs to mind), and in such a daunting field of competition, Dead Until Dark holds its own well. This is because the characters are well drawn and likeable, and the plot bristles with a good balance of humour, sexiness, and gore. Sookie’s internal monologues are in turns funny, heartfelt and defensive, and Bill’s almost dorky transition into ‘mainstreaming’ makes for good reading.

The whodunit plot line is perhaps not as suspenseful as you might find in ordinary crime fiction, but that’s more to do with the way Harris’ novel straddles genres than a reflection on her quality of writing. It’s less crime fiction than it is a good blend of fantasy and horror, the likes of which seem to be flying off bookshelves the world over. I love the book’s play on mythology and lore, and the way it treats otherworldly beings with a sense of rationale, normalcy, and most of all, a sense of fun.

All in all? Harris must be doing something right, because I already have Book 2 cued up and ready to go. Look out for future reviews!

Book Review: My Booky Wook

2009-07-09T21:22:00.005+09:30

My Booky Wook - Russell Brand (2007)

I had planned, as my next reading adventure, to return to some good, meaty classics complete with frocks and wars and all. Four chapters into the enormous Gone With the Wind, however, I got thoroughly distracted by the bookshop at Melbourne Airport and came out with a bag containing My Booky Wook: comedian Russell Brand’s dubiously-titled autobiography.

I’d been somewhat intrigued by Brand’s own kind of swashbuckling madness and strange hair for some time and the opportunity to see what his mind would be able to purge into printed form was too difficult to resist.

As a former junkie, alcoholic and sex addict (having spent time in recovery centres for all three), Brand doesn’t gloss over his life story. From his troubled childhood in Essex, to his acceptance into acting school, and through the turbulence and debauchery of years following, Brand often seems to walk a fine line between self-effacement and self-congratulation. That said, the fact that he emerged from his addictions and his own penchant for professional self-sabotage to forge any sort of career seems nothing short of amazing, so maybe that line is the right one to be walking.

Despite his past being full of the stuff that offends, shocks and disturbs many, Brand’s presentation of his own experience feels more well-intentioned (and, often, more warm-hearted) than some of the subject matter would initially suggest: the book is genuinely funny and, really, that’s the idea.

Brand writes surprisingly well, and he clearly enjoys manipulating language to his own purposes. My Booky Wook is brimming with the quirky turns of phrase and sharp wit that mark his stand-up routines, making it a pleasure to read.

All in all? Wit, startling honesty and, ultimately (perhaps unexpectedly), a lot of heart. Thumbs up.

Book Review: Pride & Prejudice & Zombies

2009-06-07T10:47:00.007+09:30

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies – Jane Austen & Seth Grahame-Smith (2009)

The bulk of my reading time is the time it takes to get to and from work on the tram. Generally, at 7am, people are sufficiently sleepy to pay no notice to the world around them. I find, however, that reading a book with a cover displaying a woman in bloodstained Regency dress, the flesh missing from much of her face, garners a few quizzical looks and more than one raised eyebrow no matter the time of day. Especially when reading such a book causes me to snort loudly with veritable glee.

P&P and Zombies is, for the most part, almost word for word the same as Austen’s original (manners, etiquette, balls, and Mr Darcy standing around looking snooty), but we here find England beset by a plague which causes the dead to rise in the search for fresh brains, littering the familiar plot with many an opportunity for action and violence.

Elizabeth Bennet, always a feisty heroine, is now cast as a Katana-wielding, zombie-slaying warrior woman, dispatching the sorry stricken with Uma-Thurman/Kill-Bill-style fervour, and strangling ninjas with their own intestines (yes, there are ninjas too – this book has everything).

Fans of the original will get the most fun out of Grahame-Smith’s twist on the story, but on the other hand, my boyfriend says this is the only version of P&P he’s ever been remotely interested in reading. It therefore begs the question: could the inclusion of the undead be a new way of bringing canonical literature to the otherwise unenthused? Imagine the possibilities for other classics…

1. Jane Eyre. Bertha Rochester: mad woman in the attic or… zombie-bride?

2. Great Expectations. Miss Havisham: already half way there.

3. Wuthering Heights. Heathcliff and Kathy: arguably revolting enough already, but a little zombie action across the moors could be good fun.

All in all? Regency romance plus glorious gore. I got a real kick out of this one.

Book Review: People of the Book

2009-06-02T18:08:00.001+09:30

People of the Book – Geraldine Brooks

I love the idea of books as objects, not merely as receptacles for fabulous stories. This could be why my house is stuffed full of them. I’m not big on exchanging or reselling. I love old editions- especially when they have inscriptions in lovely old handwriting wishing a happy birthday or a merry Christmas. I love old fashioned heavy binding and gold-bordered pages; I love interesting covers. I love my favourite paperbacks, so creased they naturally fall open to all the good bits. It’s no real surprise, then, that a book about a book would be just my cup of tea.

In People of the Book, Geraldine Brooks creates a fictional history for the real life Sarajevo Haggadah – an ancient Jewish prayer book – which has somehow survived through centuries of violence and war.

The story sees Hanna Heath, Australian book conservator, invited to war-torn Bosnia circa 1996 to study the manuscript and uncover some of the secrets of the book’s past. The narrative alternates between the present and the past. Through the evidence Hanna collects – part of a butterfly’s wing, blood stains, salt crystals – we follow the haggadah’s survival backwards in time from 1940s Bosnia, through Europe across the centuries, and to its creation in Spain in 1480.

Book reviewers aplenty have drawn comparisons between People of the Book and The Da Vinci Code. I like this assessment, except People of the Book is more like The Da Vinci Code’s smarter cousin. It may not have the cinematic pacing of Brown’s novel, but Brooks makes up for it by…. being a better writer.

While the historical sections at times felt like interruptions to Hanna’s story, there’s no arguing about their feeling of authenticity in terms of place and time. Brooks, a former journalist and Pulitzer prize-winner (for March), can spin her painstaking research into sweeping tales of history and character incredibly well. Once I got into the rhythm of the book, my qualms about the interruptions were soon left behind.

All in all? Love the concept of following the evidence backwards through time and, as always, love Brooks’ style. Historical fiction with a big thumbs up.

Cool Website

2009-06-01T17:30:00.000+09:30

A friend sent me a link to an awesome website today. Called the "Literature Map" it's a fun way to find authors you might like to read based on their similarity to other authors.

I recommend it! (Cheers Wendy for the link!)

Book Review: Prey

2009-05-31T14:12:00.001+09:30

Prey – Michael Crichton

I find it amusing that this, my first foray into Actually Doing Stuff with Technology, is a review of a book about technology gone horribly awry. Oh, irony! After a string of heavy, ultra-literary tomes, and with a holiday fast approaching for which I had already assigned appropriate reading matter, I recently found myself in desperate need of a fast-paced, entertaining read that I would get through in under a week.

Enter Michael Crichton’s ghost, energetically thrusting a copy Prey in my direction.

First published in 2002 by HarperCollins, Prey (Crichton’s penultimate novel published before his death in 2008) is a cautionary tale that sees Jack Forman, house-husband and former software engineer, called in as a consultant for a company taking big steps in medical imaging. Such big steps, in fact, that ‘swarms’ of quickly evolving, self-reproducing nanobots have escaped the lab, and pose a massive threat to mankind.

Crichton is one of those authors with whom you build up a kind of rapport – you know what to expect from him and he doesn’t often let you down. I tend to classify his books as ‘airport’ fiction – you buy them as a good holiday read, not to take too seriously, and they are thoroughly entertaining. Prey, in a nutshell, did not disappoint…

Crichton Expectation #1: Lots of technological detail. I, for one, could do without the lengthy detailed spiel on agent-based computing and algorithms and lines of computer code, but obviously in a novel about technology there needs to be a certain amount of technological specifics – and Crichton does it well enough that I was willing to go with him on this one.

Crichton Expectation #2: People shortsightedly meddle with stuff and get it horribly, horribly wrong. Crichton loves to delve into the moral issues surrounding technological advances and Prey is no exception. I was reminded throughout of Dr Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park saying “scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should”. (Ok – I know that’s a quote from the movie and not the book, but it’s valid all the same: the sentiment is there and Jeff Goldblum is just so damn great as Malcolm).

Crichton Expectation #3: You can’t put it down. Despite the silly premise, the sometimes-cheesy end-of-chapter hooks, and the cardboard cutout supporting characters, Crichton does what he does pretty well. You are hooked from the get go and the action doesn’t stop until the end.

All in all? Big, page-turning, techno-thriller fun.