One of the many reasons Stieg Larsson's books have captivated such a vast number of readers is the central character of the trilogy, Lisbeth Salander. She dominates this volume to an even greater extent than the previous two. The plot is a largely improbable conspiracy at the centre of the Swedish government which is complex beyond description.
Indeed, at many points throughout the book it seems as though so many Swedish names or terms are thrown out that it becomes difficult to follow. Nonetheless, Larsson's grasp of character and what makes humans tick is second to almost no other author. His dialogue is exceptional and even in a translated work tension is retained throughout.
As ever, we largely follow the intrepid reporter Mikael Blomqvist on his pursuit of the truth concerning Salander. Both of them shortly find themselves in mortal danger which persists to even greater degree than in the previous books. However, this time it is not just limited to them as everyone with any connection to them becomes a potential target.
That sense of peril is well done, it never seems that any of the central characters are safe or uninvolved. To an even greater extent than in the previous two books, Larsson has placed his characters in a web of lies that they struggle to escape from. Even the previously occasional character of Blomqvist's editor, Erika Berger, finds herself involved with the case. She is the victim of a particularly nasty hate campaign.
Despite the references to distinct places in Stockholm and Goteborg that will leave non-Swedes slightly dumbfounded, Larsson creates a distinct sense of place and time. At no point does it feel that the narrative cannot be followed. As with all the best thrillers, the place is something of an incidental feature when compared to the action. All the action sequences are well-rendered even if some of them are frankly unimaginable. Certainly, towards the end of the book, there are a few sections that feel a little over the top.
Nonetheless, this is an excellent read and the trilogy as a whole can be highly recommended. This is especially the case for anyone who has not read for a while or is in need of some diversion.
Thursday 21 October 2010
Monday 4 October 2010
'Harold Larwood' by Duncan Hamilton
It is a rare thing for a cricket player to be at the centre of a diplomatic crisis. It is rarer still for English cricket to produce a truly great fast bowler. Both statements can be truly said of Harold Larwood, the quickest of his age. He performed in an era before protective equipment, when there was a very real chance that Larwood could shatter bone and break skin with each delivery. He was said to induce terror amongst those going out to face him.
Yet, for all that great aggression on the field, Duncan Hamilton portrays a decent man who was shabbily treated by the the establishment off it. The great turning point of his life was the 'Bodyline' tour of Australia during 1932/33 when he bowled to an aggressive leg-side field. It was both his finest hour and his last appearance in an England cap. The ructions that this series created can still be felt today in the relationship between the two countries.
When compared to the tumultuous Pakistan tour that has just finished, the 1932/33 Ashes series was even more divisive with even greater consequences for its participants. Hamilton shows us how Larwood went from being a hero for the Marylebone Cricket Club (then administrators of the England team) to its principal villain as the Australian complaints became more vocal. The consequences stretched as far as central government, which demanded through its friends at Lords that Larwood be made to apologise.
In keeping with his modest background, the unpretentious Harold Larwood refused to do so, thus ending his international career. Hamilton shows us how this ultimately led to disillusion with the game, taking Larwood into a long period of exile from cricket. Yet, when reading the opening pages of the book, it seems difficult to believe that a young lad who lived for nothing else would decide to end his career so early.
His start at his county, Nottinghamshire, was only earned after a long spell of working in nearby mines. The determination to stay away from the pits is what led Larwood to practise bowling so intensely. It was clear early on to those that faced him that he was destined for England duty. He soon struck up a partnership with his friend Bill Voce, who joined him on the international stage.
After an inauspicious start, Larwood was worried that his career was over before it had begun. Yet, his captain with both Nottinghamshire and England, Arthur Carr, persuaded him that he was good enough. Gradually, his confidence grew to such a point that he scared batsmen (sometimes literally) to the point of immobility. After a narrow victory over the Australians in his first series, Larwood continued his international success over the next five seasons.
This period was also his greatest domestically as Nottinghamshire won the 1929 county championship. Larwood took hundreds of wickets at absurdely low averages of between 12 and 18. As he approached 1932, he was in the best form he had ever been in. Before the Orontes set sail to take him to Australia, Douglas Jardine, his new international captain called him to a meeting that would change the direction of his life.
Leg-theory or 'Bodyline' had been in widespread use in domestic tournaments during the early 1930's. It was a tactic that involved aiming a fast, short pitched ball at the batsman to induce a catching chance. Jardine proposed to his bowlers that they should use this tactic with the intention of disrupting the Australian batting. He also felt that one member of that line-up merited special attention, a man by the name of Donald Bradman.
To those of you less familiar with cricket, Donald Bradman is widely accepted as the greatest player to have ever held a bat. He was the principal danger to England's chances of success on the tour. Larwood's duels with Bradman became the stuff of legend as England, largely thanks to Larwood, won the series 4-1.
This victory came at a heavy cost. Larwood struck Bert Oldfield, the Australian wicket-keeper on the head as well as many other members of the team. Hamilton shows us how he had not intended to deliberately hurt them but this is not the way the Australian public interpreted it. They called for Larwood's head and as a result of the MCC's acquiescence, they got it.
Despite that bitter end to his career, Larwood is remembered universally as a truly magnificent bowler whose action is a thing of beauty to behold. It is a credit to Duncan Hamilton that he shows us the man behind the bowler. He reveals that Larwood was no thug or bully as some Australians have suggested but a kind man with a rich and varied life.
The book is best summed up by the quote it uses early on from the Australian leg-spinner Bill O'Reilly when talking about facing Larwood:
'He came steaming in and I moved right across behind my bat, held perfectly straight in defence of my centre stump. Just before he delivered the ball something hit the middle of my bat with such force that it was almost dashed from my hands. It was the ball.'
It is a fitting testament to one of the greatest bowlers to have graced the game. Just as this book is a fine account of his life.
Yet, for all that great aggression on the field, Duncan Hamilton portrays a decent man who was shabbily treated by the the establishment off it. The great turning point of his life was the 'Bodyline' tour of Australia during 1932/33 when he bowled to an aggressive leg-side field. It was both his finest hour and his last appearance in an England cap. The ructions that this series created can still be felt today in the relationship between the two countries.
When compared to the tumultuous Pakistan tour that has just finished, the 1932/33 Ashes series was even more divisive with even greater consequences for its participants. Hamilton shows us how Larwood went from being a hero for the Marylebone Cricket Club (then administrators of the England team) to its principal villain as the Australian complaints became more vocal. The consequences stretched as far as central government, which demanded through its friends at Lords that Larwood be made to apologise.
In keeping with his modest background, the unpretentious Harold Larwood refused to do so, thus ending his international career. Hamilton shows us how this ultimately led to disillusion with the game, taking Larwood into a long period of exile from cricket. Yet, when reading the opening pages of the book, it seems difficult to believe that a young lad who lived for nothing else would decide to end his career so early.
His start at his county, Nottinghamshire, was only earned after a long spell of working in nearby mines. The determination to stay away from the pits is what led Larwood to practise bowling so intensely. It was clear early on to those that faced him that he was destined for England duty. He soon struck up a partnership with his friend Bill Voce, who joined him on the international stage.
After an inauspicious start, Larwood was worried that his career was over before it had begun. Yet, his captain with both Nottinghamshire and England, Arthur Carr, persuaded him that he was good enough. Gradually, his confidence grew to such a point that he scared batsmen (sometimes literally) to the point of immobility. After a narrow victory over the Australians in his first series, Larwood continued his international success over the next five seasons.
This period was also his greatest domestically as Nottinghamshire won the 1929 county championship. Larwood took hundreds of wickets at absurdely low averages of between 12 and 18. As he approached 1932, he was in the best form he had ever been in. Before the Orontes set sail to take him to Australia, Douglas Jardine, his new international captain called him to a meeting that would change the direction of his life.
Leg-theory or 'Bodyline' had been in widespread use in domestic tournaments during the early 1930's. It was a tactic that involved aiming a fast, short pitched ball at the batsman to induce a catching chance. Jardine proposed to his bowlers that they should use this tactic with the intention of disrupting the Australian batting. He also felt that one member of that line-up merited special attention, a man by the name of Donald Bradman.
To those of you less familiar with cricket, Donald Bradman is widely accepted as the greatest player to have ever held a bat. He was the principal danger to England's chances of success on the tour. Larwood's duels with Bradman became the stuff of legend as England, largely thanks to Larwood, won the series 4-1.
This victory came at a heavy cost. Larwood struck Bert Oldfield, the Australian wicket-keeper on the head as well as many other members of the team. Hamilton shows us how he had not intended to deliberately hurt them but this is not the way the Australian public interpreted it. They called for Larwood's head and as a result of the MCC's acquiescence, they got it.
Despite that bitter end to his career, Larwood is remembered universally as a truly magnificent bowler whose action is a thing of beauty to behold. It is a credit to Duncan Hamilton that he shows us the man behind the bowler. He reveals that Larwood was no thug or bully as some Australians have suggested but a kind man with a rich and varied life.
The book is best summed up by the quote it uses early on from the Australian leg-spinner Bill O'Reilly when talking about facing Larwood:
'He came steaming in and I moved right across behind my bat, held perfectly straight in defence of my centre stump. Just before he delivered the ball something hit the middle of my bat with such force that it was almost dashed from my hands. It was the ball.'
It is a fitting testament to one of the greatest bowlers to have graced the game. Just as this book is a fine account of his life.
Tuesday 21 September 2010
'Touching the Void' by Joe Simpson
To put it simply, this book is the most tremendous tale of human courage I have ever read. It is a non-fiction classic about both the extreme risks we take in pursuit of thrills and the value of survival once those risks have placed life in danger. Simpson and his climbing partner Simon Yates faced both whilst climbing Siula Grande in the Peruvian Andes.
The climb begins well enough. Their ascent of the western face of the mountain is largely successful despite regular bouts of frostbite. They endure such hardship with the good humour of experienced climbers who are used to difficult conditions. Little were they to realise that their problems were just beginning.
On the descent, Simpson falls over a ledge and snags his leg on Yates' rope. His knee is broken by the fall. With only his climbing partner for company on a remote mountain, this injury is a death sentence. Yet, amongst the many instances of heroism in this story, Yates bears his partner's weight on a guide rope as they descend together. By doing this, it is clear that Yates took a terrible risk with his own life, one that would lead to an even greater disaster.
At this point, the climbers seem to have a slim chance of escaping with their lives. Yet, fate intervenes once again. Simpson falls into a crevasse whilst Yates holds him on the rope. Yates faces an impossible choice, his own life or Simpson's. In a moment of anguish, he makes a choice that none of us would hope to face up to. Simpson is left on his own, assumed to be dead.
As Yates returns to the camp in tears for the choice he made, the audience is confronted by the thought of what we would have done if faced by the same situation. It is difficult to picture being there but the book is so well written that it is possible to feel every action taken by the climbers, even for someone with absolutely no experience of it.
At the bottom of the crevasse, Simpson finds it within himself to escape. He hops, crawls and hauls his way to the surface. Distances that would usually be covered in ten minutes take hours. No weight can be placed on his broken leg. Every moment of his painstaking descent is captured in gruesome detail. Simpson is not sentimental about those days and you get a very close sense of how close he came to death.
He shows typical Sheffield grit in his attitude to survival. The sheer extremes of starvation and dehydration are difficult to imagine, let alone descending a 20,000 ft mountain with a broken kneecap. The reader feels closely involved, willing Joe to make it. It never feels certain that he will but when he finally does get to base camp he is in such a state as to make survival uncertain.
Yates cannot believe that his partner has survived. Their reunion is one of the most moving passages of the book. Not for one moment does it seem contrived or exaggurated. In such harsh circumstances, Yates and Simpson found incredible reserves of strength and resilience.
A truly remarkable tale of adventure and survival. So much more than just a book about climbing.
The climb begins well enough. Their ascent of the western face of the mountain is largely successful despite regular bouts of frostbite. They endure such hardship with the good humour of experienced climbers who are used to difficult conditions. Little were they to realise that their problems were just beginning.
On the descent, Simpson falls over a ledge and snags his leg on Yates' rope. His knee is broken by the fall. With only his climbing partner for company on a remote mountain, this injury is a death sentence. Yet, amongst the many instances of heroism in this story, Yates bears his partner's weight on a guide rope as they descend together. By doing this, it is clear that Yates took a terrible risk with his own life, one that would lead to an even greater disaster.
At this point, the climbers seem to have a slim chance of escaping with their lives. Yet, fate intervenes once again. Simpson falls into a crevasse whilst Yates holds him on the rope. Yates faces an impossible choice, his own life or Simpson's. In a moment of anguish, he makes a choice that none of us would hope to face up to. Simpson is left on his own, assumed to be dead.
As Yates returns to the camp in tears for the choice he made, the audience is confronted by the thought of what we would have done if faced by the same situation. It is difficult to picture being there but the book is so well written that it is possible to feel every action taken by the climbers, even for someone with absolutely no experience of it.
At the bottom of the crevasse, Simpson finds it within himself to escape. He hops, crawls and hauls his way to the surface. Distances that would usually be covered in ten minutes take hours. No weight can be placed on his broken leg. Every moment of his painstaking descent is captured in gruesome detail. Simpson is not sentimental about those days and you get a very close sense of how close he came to death.
He shows typical Sheffield grit in his attitude to survival. The sheer extremes of starvation and dehydration are difficult to imagine, let alone descending a 20,000 ft mountain with a broken kneecap. The reader feels closely involved, willing Joe to make it. It never feels certain that he will but when he finally does get to base camp he is in such a state as to make survival uncertain.
Yates cannot believe that his partner has survived. Their reunion is one of the most moving passages of the book. Not for one moment does it seem contrived or exaggurated. In such harsh circumstances, Yates and Simpson found incredible reserves of strength and resilience.
A truly remarkable tale of adventure and survival. So much more than just a book about climbing.
Sunday 19 September 2010
'Shutter Island' dir. Martin Scorsese
Scorsese can always be relied on to produce a psychologically complex film. He has certainly done that with Shutter Island. It is the sign of an experienced director when the audience is left with as many questions as answers. Ultimately, we find that many of the assumptions that we had made about what was happening at the start of the film are refuted as the story progresses.
Initially, we follow a US Marshal Teddy Daniels (Leo Di Caprio) as he investigates the disappearance of an inmate from the Ashecliffe Mental Institution based on Shutter Island. As he closes in on an explanation of why she has disappeared, his progress is seemingly obstructed by the presence of Dr. John Cawley, the island's chief psychiatrist. Cawley is played with malevolent calm by Ben Kingsley as initially we are lured into believing that he is obstructing justice.
This impression is further reinforced by the presence of Dr. Jeremiah Naehring (Max von Sydow), a Nazi defector who is rumoured amongst the inmates to use brutal methods to sedate his patients. The post-war atmosphere of suspicion is re-created perfectly in the scenes between Daniels and Naehring. Daniels soon finds himself trapped on the island, unable to rid himself of the suspicion that he is about to suffer a terrible fate.
The atmosphere of paranoia encompasses every scene in Shutter Island. It is a testament to both the acting and direction that it never feels false. Di Caprio is especially believable as Daniels, a damaged individual who has yet to confront his own demons. It is soon revealed just how that damage has affected his judgement.
Daniels begins to collapse under this pressure. He is a man in search of both revenge and justice. These two conflicting goals ultimately lead him to destruction as confusion overtakes him. The ending leaves him every bit as trapped as he was at the start. It has an edge of Hamlet about it yet we can understand perfectly why he has ended up where he is.
Ultimately, Shutter Island leaves a strong impression albeit a somewhat confusing one. It is a disorientating film that questions the nature of mental illness - in itself a divisive subject. There are certain points where it seems Scorsese has been given too much editorial freedom and the ending does rather drag a bit. This is especially true in the final twenty minutes. Nonetheless, it is an excellent story that deserves the accolades.
Initially, we follow a US Marshal Teddy Daniels (Leo Di Caprio) as he investigates the disappearance of an inmate from the Ashecliffe Mental Institution based on Shutter Island. As he closes in on an explanation of why she has disappeared, his progress is seemingly obstructed by the presence of Dr. John Cawley, the island's chief psychiatrist. Cawley is played with malevolent calm by Ben Kingsley as initially we are lured into believing that he is obstructing justice.
This impression is further reinforced by the presence of Dr. Jeremiah Naehring (Max von Sydow), a Nazi defector who is rumoured amongst the inmates to use brutal methods to sedate his patients. The post-war atmosphere of suspicion is re-created perfectly in the scenes between Daniels and Naehring. Daniels soon finds himself trapped on the island, unable to rid himself of the suspicion that he is about to suffer a terrible fate.
The atmosphere of paranoia encompasses every scene in Shutter Island. It is a testament to both the acting and direction that it never feels false. Di Caprio is especially believable as Daniels, a damaged individual who has yet to confront his own demons. It is soon revealed just how that damage has affected his judgement.
Daniels begins to collapse under this pressure. He is a man in search of both revenge and justice. These two conflicting goals ultimately lead him to destruction as confusion overtakes him. The ending leaves him every bit as trapped as he was at the start. It has an edge of Hamlet about it yet we can understand perfectly why he has ended up where he is.
Ultimately, Shutter Island leaves a strong impression albeit a somewhat confusing one. It is a disorientating film that questions the nature of mental illness - in itself a divisive subject. There are certain points where it seems Scorsese has been given too much editorial freedom and the ending does rather drag a bit. This is especially true in the final twenty minutes. Nonetheless, it is an excellent story that deserves the accolades.
Monday 13 September 2010
'Kick-Ass' dir. Matthew Vaughn
My expectations were somewhat muted before watching this one. This is largely due to the fact that comic 'fan boys' are increasingly dominating the Hollywood fantasy market and there have unfortunately been some real stinkers in amongst these recent films. However, having been thoroughly entertained for two hours, I can gladly state that this is certainly not the case with Kick-Ass.
The set up is perhaps grimly familiar to a British audience:- an American high school loser is madly in love with a girl who is out of his league. He reads too many comic books and ends up wanting to become a real-life superhero. Yet, despite all the cliched avenues this film could take, it successfully avoids all of them.
Our hero, Dave Lizewski, finds himself a very fetching wetsuit and proceeds to fight crime in the local neighbourhood. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he soon finds himself in hospital. Undeterred, he returns to the streets and as a result of youtube he quickly becomes a phenomenon known only as 'Kick-Ass'.
Due to an unfortunate set of circumstances, 'Kick-Ass' finds himself the target of local crime lord Frank D'Amico, played wonderfully straight by Mark Strong. Dave soon finds himself way out of his depth. Yet, help is soon at hand, 'Big Daddy' (Nic Cage on brilliant form) and 'Hit-Girl' soon dig him out of a hole. These two are the real deal, they are professionals, even though they happen to be father and daughter.
'Hit-Girl' is a gift of a character - a young girl whose foul mouth would make a marine blush. The dynamic between the two is truly unique, perhaps represented best by her birthday gift - a pair of knuckle dusters. They have enough nous to keep their presence unknown. However, 'Kick-Ass' is less fortunate.
After being trapped by an elaborate ruse, he finds himself in desperate jeopardy. We see Dave for what he really is, a young man who would be just as scared as any of us at getting beaten up by mobsters. Nonetheless, you cannot help but root for him. He is a genuine hero beset by his own inadequacies. He is a fool but a noble one at that. For all the ludicrous ultra-violence of some of the death sequences, there is always a clear line between the good and the bad.
This film confronts why some people want to put on latex and look like an idiot. It also confronts why most of us want to fight crime. However, perhaps most importantly it demonstrates how ill-suited many of us are to doing just that. Not the most challenging film of the year, but by far the most entertaining.
The set up is perhaps grimly familiar to a British audience:- an American high school loser is madly in love with a girl who is out of his league. He reads too many comic books and ends up wanting to become a real-life superhero. Yet, despite all the cliched avenues this film could take, it successfully avoids all of them.
Our hero, Dave Lizewski, finds himself a very fetching wetsuit and proceeds to fight crime in the local neighbourhood. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he soon finds himself in hospital. Undeterred, he returns to the streets and as a result of youtube he quickly becomes a phenomenon known only as 'Kick-Ass'.
Due to an unfortunate set of circumstances, 'Kick-Ass' finds himself the target of local crime lord Frank D'Amico, played wonderfully straight by Mark Strong. Dave soon finds himself way out of his depth. Yet, help is soon at hand, 'Big Daddy' (Nic Cage on brilliant form) and 'Hit-Girl' soon dig him out of a hole. These two are the real deal, they are professionals, even though they happen to be father and daughter.
'Hit-Girl' is a gift of a character - a young girl whose foul mouth would make a marine blush. The dynamic between the two is truly unique, perhaps represented best by her birthday gift - a pair of knuckle dusters. They have enough nous to keep their presence unknown. However, 'Kick-Ass' is less fortunate.
After being trapped by an elaborate ruse, he finds himself in desperate jeopardy. We see Dave for what he really is, a young man who would be just as scared as any of us at getting beaten up by mobsters. Nonetheless, you cannot help but root for him. He is a genuine hero beset by his own inadequacies. He is a fool but a noble one at that. For all the ludicrous ultra-violence of some of the death sequences, there is always a clear line between the good and the bad.
This film confronts why some people want to put on latex and look like an idiot. It also confronts why most of us want to fight crime. However, perhaps most importantly it demonstrates how ill-suited many of us are to doing just that. Not the most challenging film of the year, but by far the most entertaining.
Wednesday 8 September 2010
'The good man Jesus and the scoundrel Christ' by Phillip Pullman
Phillip Pullman has once again surprised us with a refreshing take on one of the most well-worn stories in the world. There are few authors who are quite so aggressive on behalf of Atheism and it is clear from the start what his view is on the Christian myth. Nevertheless, he treads a fine line between being hyper-critical and recognising the contribution that Christianity has made to society.
The novel opens with the story of Joseph and Mary, who are mercifully not shrouded with mystery or crowned with halo's as the nature of their relationship is explored. Mary gives birth to twins, namely Jesus and Christ who offer different perspectives on the events of the rest of the novel. Jesus is certain of all of his actions, he preaches from a young age on morality and seems to have no trouble following his own path. By contrast, Christ is a very dependent child, more likely to have problems adapting to the outside world and as a consequence is in thrall to his brother.
Therefore, we follow Jesus through the eyes of Christ, who is watching him at every sermon. Pullman has Jesus deliver the familiar proverbs in a new and interesting way. We find that he is utterly rooted in his own sense of right, intractable in argument for tolerance. It is an interesting brush with his aggressive pacifism of the New Testament. However, Christ sees all this through a more recognisably human viewpoint. He is concerned about the consequences of his brother's actions and he worries about his long term future.
We are confronted by the anxiety of Christ as he sees his brother becoming increasingly a danger to himself: 'King Jesus' is daubed repeatedly on walls in the towns where he is present. The Romans are starting to take an interest in this preacher. Christ realises that he must now choose whether his own life is more valuable than that of his brother. Old jealousies rear their head as he makes his decision.
The end comes swiftly. Christ is racked with guilt for his role in his brother's death and it is at this point that Pullman takes us on something of a diversion. He has his central character make a long solliloquy on his loss of faith and his belief that the world is not perfect. Christ, unlike Jesus, is a realist in this story and yet, like all realists, Christ has made a decision based on what was best for himself. We find that he has no defence left when confronted with the consequences of his past.
As ever, Pullman uses the close of his book to question the role of the church. He seems to argue through his characters that it creates more problems than it solves but he is mature enough to balance the argument elsewhere in the narrative. It makes for an interesting read although at times it felt rather like the author was speaking through his characters rather than the characters speaking for themselves. Despite this, it is more than just a morality play and it does not shy away from humanising the birth of Christianity.
The novel opens with the story of Joseph and Mary, who are mercifully not shrouded with mystery or crowned with halo's as the nature of their relationship is explored. Mary gives birth to twins, namely Jesus and Christ who offer different perspectives on the events of the rest of the novel. Jesus is certain of all of his actions, he preaches from a young age on morality and seems to have no trouble following his own path. By contrast, Christ is a very dependent child, more likely to have problems adapting to the outside world and as a consequence is in thrall to his brother.
Therefore, we follow Jesus through the eyes of Christ, who is watching him at every sermon. Pullman has Jesus deliver the familiar proverbs in a new and interesting way. We find that he is utterly rooted in his own sense of right, intractable in argument for tolerance. It is an interesting brush with his aggressive pacifism of the New Testament. However, Christ sees all this through a more recognisably human viewpoint. He is concerned about the consequences of his brother's actions and he worries about his long term future.
We are confronted by the anxiety of Christ as he sees his brother becoming increasingly a danger to himself: 'King Jesus' is daubed repeatedly on walls in the towns where he is present. The Romans are starting to take an interest in this preacher. Christ realises that he must now choose whether his own life is more valuable than that of his brother. Old jealousies rear their head as he makes his decision.
The end comes swiftly. Christ is racked with guilt for his role in his brother's death and it is at this point that Pullman takes us on something of a diversion. He has his central character make a long solliloquy on his loss of faith and his belief that the world is not perfect. Christ, unlike Jesus, is a realist in this story and yet, like all realists, Christ has made a decision based on what was best for himself. We find that he has no defence left when confronted with the consequences of his past.
As ever, Pullman uses the close of his book to question the role of the church. He seems to argue through his characters that it creates more problems than it solves but he is mature enough to balance the argument elsewhere in the narrative. It makes for an interesting read although at times it felt rather like the author was speaking through his characters rather than the characters speaking for themselves. Despite this, it is more than just a morality play and it does not shy away from humanising the birth of Christianity.
Friday 3 September 2010
'Nocturnes' by Kazuo Ishiguro
As ever, Kazuo Ishiguro has presented us with a conundrum. Do we read this work as a set of stories about music? Or do they hold a much deeper meaning? On the surface, we are presented with five tales about getting older but gradually we are forced to confront what that means to each of the characters in these stories.
Ishiguro is on much lighter form in this than in his previous work Never Let Me Go. As proof, there is a frankly hilarious incident in the fourth story involves a turkey and an award for 'jazz musician of the year'. All the stories have such moments, yet all of them invoke a sentimentality for lost youth.
We are confronted by musicians who feel lost in a world where their skills are not in demand. Ishiguro seems to have endless patience for their insecurities. All his characters feel thoroughly human. That is a great credit to the time put into this work. Four years in total.
There are five short stories in this collection:
Crooner reads much like the biography of a member of the rat pack. It is told from the point of view of an observer, a young Polish man just after the fall of the USSR. The young man idolises the crooner of the title yet he bears witness to the collapse of his marriage. His ignorance of Western values becomes clear in his reaction to the divorce, brought about as a result of practicality rather than dislike.
Come Rain or Come Shine is an evocation of a friendship that has long worn past its use. A middle-aged EFL teacher returns to Britain to visit friends, finding himself on the recieving end of some intense and unwanted scrutiny from them. Just as suspected, this is as much a defence mechanism for the couple involved as it is genuine criticism. We are confronted with the ridiculous pace of modern life and how some of us are unbending servants to it.
Malvern Hills follows a musician on an unwilling jaunt to his sister's hotel. After an unfortunate spat with a Swiss couple staying there, he leaves temporarily for the hills with his guitar. The couple follow him and reveal that they are perhaps not quite as aggressive as first appearances suggested. As they talk, they reveal the disappointments of their lives that have led them there. Ishiguro draws on the accounts of many professional musicians about the difficulties of touring in demonstrating how this affects family life.
Nocturne picks up the thread of the last story as a struggling jazz musician is persuaded to have cosmetic surgery to improve his career prospects. During his downtime at a hotel following this, he finds himself confronted by the wife from the first story Crooner. She is drastically changed and both of them find that they are unable to sleep in their current state. On a walk around the hotel, they attempt to recreate some of their better moments yet they are too different to co-operate for long.
Cellists is perhaps the most fascinating of all of them. During the holiday season, a woman invites a young Cellist over to play for her. Through subtle prodding of his technique she reveals a great knowledge of the instrument. Yet, she has not played in many years. He finds that afterwards he cannot play as well without her present. This story explores with fascinating clarity what it is to continue living whilst knowing that your best days are behind you.
The collection is a very worthwhile read. Perhaps not as moving as Remains of the Day or as tragic as Never Let Me Go but extremely impressive nonetheless.
Ishiguro is on much lighter form in this than in his previous work Never Let Me Go. As proof, there is a frankly hilarious incident in the fourth story involves a turkey and an award for 'jazz musician of the year'. All the stories have such moments, yet all of them invoke a sentimentality for lost youth.
We are confronted by musicians who feel lost in a world where their skills are not in demand. Ishiguro seems to have endless patience for their insecurities. All his characters feel thoroughly human. That is a great credit to the time put into this work. Four years in total.
There are five short stories in this collection:
Crooner reads much like the biography of a member of the rat pack. It is told from the point of view of an observer, a young Polish man just after the fall of the USSR. The young man idolises the crooner of the title yet he bears witness to the collapse of his marriage. His ignorance of Western values becomes clear in his reaction to the divorce, brought about as a result of practicality rather than dislike.
Come Rain or Come Shine is an evocation of a friendship that has long worn past its use. A middle-aged EFL teacher returns to Britain to visit friends, finding himself on the recieving end of some intense and unwanted scrutiny from them. Just as suspected, this is as much a defence mechanism for the couple involved as it is genuine criticism. We are confronted with the ridiculous pace of modern life and how some of us are unbending servants to it.
Malvern Hills follows a musician on an unwilling jaunt to his sister's hotel. After an unfortunate spat with a Swiss couple staying there, he leaves temporarily for the hills with his guitar. The couple follow him and reveal that they are perhaps not quite as aggressive as first appearances suggested. As they talk, they reveal the disappointments of their lives that have led them there. Ishiguro draws on the accounts of many professional musicians about the difficulties of touring in demonstrating how this affects family life.
Nocturne picks up the thread of the last story as a struggling jazz musician is persuaded to have cosmetic surgery to improve his career prospects. During his downtime at a hotel following this, he finds himself confronted by the wife from the first story Crooner. She is drastically changed and both of them find that they are unable to sleep in their current state. On a walk around the hotel, they attempt to recreate some of their better moments yet they are too different to co-operate for long.
Cellists is perhaps the most fascinating of all of them. During the holiday season, a woman invites a young Cellist over to play for her. Through subtle prodding of his technique she reveals a great knowledge of the instrument. Yet, she has not played in many years. He finds that afterwards he cannot play as well without her present. This story explores with fascinating clarity what it is to continue living whilst knowing that your best days are behind you.
The collection is a very worthwhile read. Perhaps not as moving as Remains of the Day or as tragic as Never Let Me Go but extremely impressive nonetheless.
Saturday 28 August 2010
'The day of the Triffids' by John Wyndham
Bill Masen wakes in a hospital to find that he is the only sighted man in a city of the blind. During the next few hours, he walks the streets of London to find out exactly what has caused this catastrophe. That is the disorientating start to this wonderful novel, which hinges on those lucky few whose sight has survived. The cause of this mass blindness appears to have been a meteor shower the previous evening. All who witnessed it became victims.
Yet, Masen suspects that there is another force at work, the plant life that he helped bring into existence in Britain known as 'Triffids'. They are highly intellegent plants that are capable of movement. Perhaps most suspiciously of all, they are man-made, rumoured to have been stolen from a laboratory in the USSR. Governments in Western Europe allowed them to pollenate due to their oil being valuable.
Masen became a cultivator of sorts for this oil. This knowledge of the plants is an advantage that may yet help him survive. We bear close witness to his discomfort with this awareness. Wyndham is one of the first of many 20th Century storytellers to confront humanity's hubris when a technology gets out of control. The triffids stalk the streets as a constant menace, yet they are not the only hazard that Masen encounters.
He eventually locates another person who is still sighted. She has been tied and bound by one of the many wanderers that haunt the streets. Masen releases her and manages to find a colony that avoided the meteor shower. His companion, Josella, takes him to this compound and we are reassured that there may yet be a civilised future for those who are left. However, they are both captured and become prey for the gangs who are by now stalking the streets.
The most horrendous aspects of human nature are on display as sighted despots lead legions of the blind into the most deplorable acts in search of food. Wyndham confronts this collapse with a great deal of calm, he is not prone to sentiment when describing the end of society. Bill and Josella escape seperately yet in truth their trials have just begun.
Away from London, life is hardly a rural idyll. As the human population dwindles, Triffids begin to take control of the open land. Masen follows a clue to try and find Josella but he has no success and briefly becomes an unwilling member of a fundamentalist sect. He leaves with his new companion Wilfred Coker, who is just as sceptical about the value of religion after such an event. However, Masen quickly realises that they have no hope on their own.
During all this, Masen's one objective is to find Josella but he can only recall one possible place that she may be living. He leaves Coker to look after other survivors so that he can find the woman he loves. In such an aggressive world, where the protagonists are required to destroy repeatedly to survive, it is refreshing to note that a source of hope still exists. It is a harsh, desperate life that they lead together but it is perhaps the best they can manage.
There are no melancholic reflections by any of the main characters, just a simple need to adapt and survive. Wyndham is reflecting the era in which he is writing, published in 1951, this toughness perhaps reveals the difficulties of living through a major war. Masen and Josella are decent people who give purpose to each other, they rarely lapse into self-pity. Yet, as their world collapses, they have to work hard to move forward.
At times, the dialogue in the novel feels a little strained. Even by fifties standards, it seems overly formal yet there are no such questions about the narrative. Wyndham has created an excellent book that attempts to answer why we as a species deserve to survive. It is a credit to him that the answer is never in doubt.
Yet, Masen suspects that there is another force at work, the plant life that he helped bring into existence in Britain known as 'Triffids'. They are highly intellegent plants that are capable of movement. Perhaps most suspiciously of all, they are man-made, rumoured to have been stolen from a laboratory in the USSR. Governments in Western Europe allowed them to pollenate due to their oil being valuable.
Masen became a cultivator of sorts for this oil. This knowledge of the plants is an advantage that may yet help him survive. We bear close witness to his discomfort with this awareness. Wyndham is one of the first of many 20th Century storytellers to confront humanity's hubris when a technology gets out of control. The triffids stalk the streets as a constant menace, yet they are not the only hazard that Masen encounters.
He eventually locates another person who is still sighted. She has been tied and bound by one of the many wanderers that haunt the streets. Masen releases her and manages to find a colony that avoided the meteor shower. His companion, Josella, takes him to this compound and we are reassured that there may yet be a civilised future for those who are left. However, they are both captured and become prey for the gangs who are by now stalking the streets.
The most horrendous aspects of human nature are on display as sighted despots lead legions of the blind into the most deplorable acts in search of food. Wyndham confronts this collapse with a great deal of calm, he is not prone to sentiment when describing the end of society. Bill and Josella escape seperately yet in truth their trials have just begun.
Away from London, life is hardly a rural idyll. As the human population dwindles, Triffids begin to take control of the open land. Masen follows a clue to try and find Josella but he has no success and briefly becomes an unwilling member of a fundamentalist sect. He leaves with his new companion Wilfred Coker, who is just as sceptical about the value of religion after such an event. However, Masen quickly realises that they have no hope on their own.
During all this, Masen's one objective is to find Josella but he can only recall one possible place that she may be living. He leaves Coker to look after other survivors so that he can find the woman he loves. In such an aggressive world, where the protagonists are required to destroy repeatedly to survive, it is refreshing to note that a source of hope still exists. It is a harsh, desperate life that they lead together but it is perhaps the best they can manage.
There are no melancholic reflections by any of the main characters, just a simple need to adapt and survive. Wyndham is reflecting the era in which he is writing, published in 1951, this toughness perhaps reveals the difficulties of living through a major war. Masen and Josella are decent people who give purpose to each other, they rarely lapse into self-pity. Yet, as their world collapses, they have to work hard to move forward.
At times, the dialogue in the novel feels a little strained. Even by fifties standards, it seems overly formal yet there are no such questions about the narrative. Wyndham has created an excellent book that attempts to answer why we as a species deserve to survive. It is a credit to him that the answer is never in doubt.
Sunday 22 August 2010
'Nothing to envy: real lives in North Korea' by Barbara Demick
It is difficult to convey the horror of living in a totalitarian state but Barbara Demick manages to portray the suffering of the North Korean people under their morally bankrupt regime. The widely held perception in the western world is that North Koreans spend most of their time marching in unison around Pyongyang. Demick takes us outside that closely censored image and into the real lives of those seemingly loyal subjects.
Her book is drawn from interviews with defectors who, almost without exception, have a relative who died as a result of a famine in the 1990's . Large tracts of the work focus on this famine, which is believed to have wiped out as much as ten percent of the population, working out at just over two million people. Understandably, previous loyalty to the ruling Workers Party became as scarce a commodity as the food itself. Those who would not steal died first, those who would not break the law to sell were next.
Yet, despite the resentment, no change was wrought in the government's policy and many working people have not recieved a pay cheque since the mid 90's. Kim Jong-Il continued drinking fine wine and dining on lobster whilst his country was laid waste. As if this were not reprehensible enough, his clique knew that they had enough informers to maintain the situation. People knew that a misplaced word could send them to a labour camp, never to return.
The only method of social advancement in North Korea is through joining the Workers Party. Demick shows us that this is the only ambition that most of the population can hold. However, due to a strange caste system that dominates the society, it is an impossibility for just as many. Our defectors are more than aware of the irony of a communist utopia in which such a system persists. It is made clear that for many, that was the reason for leaving.
In amongst the attempts at thought control, there are some moments of rare humanity. A thread that runs through the book is a love affair between two of the defectors that is touching for its desperation. There is a great taboo in North Korea about pre-marital relationships of any kind, partly due to the chilling belief that it would detract from loyalty to the state. Thankfully, in this case it does exactly that and they find the bravery to escape.
This is a rare moment of lightness in an otherwise harrowing work. One after the other, the defectors reveal the moment they became disillusioned with all that they had been taught to believe. From an early age, North Koreans are taught that Kim Jong-Il and his father Kim Il-Sung are the providers of almost everything. The personality cult surrounding Kim Il-Sung in particular is something to behold, as is the grief that took hold of people upon his death in 1994.
Yet, when leaders are supposed to be the providers of everything, questions are naturally asked when the supplies run out. Opposition expressed privately was the only refuge for many of the defectors and even then the constant barrage of propaganda forced many to doubt themselves. As a result, Demick is deeply sympathetic to those who struggle to adapt to life in the outside world, pointing out that many of them have never been instructed to think for themselves.
The book is a thoroughly researched piece that evidently took many years of interviews and study to complete. It is an absolute credit to Demick that she shows us exactly what it is like to live in the world's most secretive state. The drabness and claustrophobia of life are reflective of Stalinism at its worst. George Orwell once wrote of 'a boot stamping on the face of human face forever'. Unfortunately, North Korea is every bit the realisation of his dystopia.
Every page that passes makes the reader more and more grateful for the blessing of being born in a democracy. It is by no means an easy read but a necessary one.
Her book is drawn from interviews with defectors who, almost without exception, have a relative who died as a result of a famine in the 1990's . Large tracts of the work focus on this famine, which is believed to have wiped out as much as ten percent of the population, working out at just over two million people. Understandably, previous loyalty to the ruling Workers Party became as scarce a commodity as the food itself. Those who would not steal died first, those who would not break the law to sell were next.
Yet, despite the resentment, no change was wrought in the government's policy and many working people have not recieved a pay cheque since the mid 90's. Kim Jong-Il continued drinking fine wine and dining on lobster whilst his country was laid waste. As if this were not reprehensible enough, his clique knew that they had enough informers to maintain the situation. People knew that a misplaced word could send them to a labour camp, never to return.
The only method of social advancement in North Korea is through joining the Workers Party. Demick shows us that this is the only ambition that most of the population can hold. However, due to a strange caste system that dominates the society, it is an impossibility for just as many. Our defectors are more than aware of the irony of a communist utopia in which such a system persists. It is made clear that for many, that was the reason for leaving.
In amongst the attempts at thought control, there are some moments of rare humanity. A thread that runs through the book is a love affair between two of the defectors that is touching for its desperation. There is a great taboo in North Korea about pre-marital relationships of any kind, partly due to the chilling belief that it would detract from loyalty to the state. Thankfully, in this case it does exactly that and they find the bravery to escape.
This is a rare moment of lightness in an otherwise harrowing work. One after the other, the defectors reveal the moment they became disillusioned with all that they had been taught to believe. From an early age, North Koreans are taught that Kim Jong-Il and his father Kim Il-Sung are the providers of almost everything. The personality cult surrounding Kim Il-Sung in particular is something to behold, as is the grief that took hold of people upon his death in 1994.
Yet, when leaders are supposed to be the providers of everything, questions are naturally asked when the supplies run out. Opposition expressed privately was the only refuge for many of the defectors and even then the constant barrage of propaganda forced many to doubt themselves. As a result, Demick is deeply sympathetic to those who struggle to adapt to life in the outside world, pointing out that many of them have never been instructed to think for themselves.
The book is a thoroughly researched piece that evidently took many years of interviews and study to complete. It is an absolute credit to Demick that she shows us exactly what it is like to live in the world's most secretive state. The drabness and claustrophobia of life are reflective of Stalinism at its worst. George Orwell once wrote of 'a boot stamping on the face of human face forever'. Unfortunately, North Korea is every bit the realisation of his dystopia.
Every page that passes makes the reader more and more grateful for the blessing of being born in a democracy. It is by no means an easy read but a necessary one.
Wednesday 18 August 2010
'Inception' dir. Christopher Nolan
It was something of a shock to be confronted by something so intellegent and gripping. Given that recent releases include a surfeit of Hollywood staples (re-makes, teen horror, more teen horror), Nolan's film certainly distinguishes itself by being different. It mixes high-octane action sequences with a script that stops to question the motives of its characters.
The result is a film that crosses genres, it could easily be classified as a sci-fi, mystery or thriller and it has a good case for being all three. The action mainly centres around Leo Di Caprio's character Justin Cobb as he prepares a heist to steal corporate secrets. However, it is quickly revealed that this is no ordinary crime thriller. Cobb is a criminal who works exclusively in dreams.
Their target is the heir to a large corporation, a man called Robert Fischer who is brilliantly played by Cillian Murphy. The gang force Fischer in his sub-concious state to confront his difficult relationship with his father. Their theory is that a created thought, or 'inception' will force him to disinherit his company. As they burrow more deeply into his sub-concious it becomes clear that this is no ordinary task.
Cobb is made to confront his own demons, namely in the shape of his wife Mal, who haunts his every thought. His ability to do his job is hamstrung by his inability to let go of her and it quickly becomes clear that this may cost him his life. This secret has only been revealed to Ariadne, a student who joins them to work at creating Fischer's thought.
Mal is played with shocking clarity by Marion Cotillard, who portrays someone who indulges her own anger to the detriment of any other emotion. The film reveals precisely why it is justified but never loses the sense that she always had that element within her. At certain points, Cobb and Mal dominate the film to such an extent that it does slow down but that is only for a brief moment in the second act.
There is no question that taken as a whole, Inception makes a strong impression. In fact, it does to such an extent that it would be difficult to find many that rank alongside it. Nolan would be doing well to better it but given past form, no one could put it past him.
The result is a film that crosses genres, it could easily be classified as a sci-fi, mystery or thriller and it has a good case for being all three. The action mainly centres around Leo Di Caprio's character Justin Cobb as he prepares a heist to steal corporate secrets. However, it is quickly revealed that this is no ordinary crime thriller. Cobb is a criminal who works exclusively in dreams.
Their target is the heir to a large corporation, a man called Robert Fischer who is brilliantly played by Cillian Murphy. The gang force Fischer in his sub-concious state to confront his difficult relationship with his father. Their theory is that a created thought, or 'inception' will force him to disinherit his company. As they burrow more deeply into his sub-concious it becomes clear that this is no ordinary task.
Cobb is made to confront his own demons, namely in the shape of his wife Mal, who haunts his every thought. His ability to do his job is hamstrung by his inability to let go of her and it quickly becomes clear that this may cost him his life. This secret has only been revealed to Ariadne, a student who joins them to work at creating Fischer's thought.
Mal is played with shocking clarity by Marion Cotillard, who portrays someone who indulges her own anger to the detriment of any other emotion. The film reveals precisely why it is justified but never loses the sense that she always had that element within her. At certain points, Cobb and Mal dominate the film to such an extent that it does slow down but that is only for a brief moment in the second act.
There is no question that taken as a whole, Inception makes a strong impression. In fact, it does to such an extent that it would be difficult to find many that rank alongside it. Nolan would be doing well to better it but given past form, no one could put it past him.
Sunday 15 August 2010
'A History of Britain (Vol I) - At the edge of The World? 3000BC-AD1603' by Simon Schama
As the title suggests, this book takes something of a broad perspective on early British history. Not that this is necessarily to its detriment, it reads more like a novel than a typical historical work. That is a credit to Schama who livens up a subject which often drives people away with dry prose and even drier analysis.
It moves quickly through the neolithic and Roman periods and onto medieval history. It seems that this is the real highlight for Schama, his enthusiasm for his work is most notable when he writing about instability. His superb deconstruction of Richard II during the peasants revolt is a prime example of this. However, he is sensible enough to avoid the mistake of dividing British history into 'good' and 'bad' monarchs.
Case studies are provided to act as background to the narrative. Eyewitness accounts of Thomas Becket's various disputes with Henry II being particularly impressive. Another example is the dark humour of the portrait of the 'Three living and three dead', an especially poignant work about the black death. Schama's background as an art historian undoubtedly influenced the images selected for the book.
There are several moments where it seems that there will be a shift towards a more conventional telling, especially during the section on Edward I. Nonetheless, he is quick to address this with acknowledgements that both sides committed atrocities during that conflict. He does well to shy away from the Braveheart perspective on William Wallace, who was in fact just as coldly ruthless as Edward.
Understandably, he treads carefully as we reach the Tudor period. Perhaps the most well-known of all parts of British history, Schama sticks closely to fact and is not given to romanticising Henry VIII in particular. Many recent depictions of the Tudors have played on the idea that it was an era of frivolous courtly love spoilt by the odd religious schism. That view is given short shrift as we are quickly introduced to the ruthlessness of Henry, Edward VI and Mary. The harrowing section on the death of Anne Boleyn being a particular highlight.
Fortunately he is also not given to glorifying Elizabeth I. He recognises her immense contribution towards religious healing in Britain but also sees that she was often maddeningly indecisive, especially when dealing with the many threats on her life. He recognises that when 'Gloriana' was at the peak of her powers, she was indeed a formidable monarch but that, as she went into decline, she was used by those closest to her.
There is no doubt that this reflects the balanced nature of the first volume of this work. Though there are many ways in which it is a conventional telling of early British history it does not shy away from occasional revisionism. Schama makes the point very early on that it is a personal history, not meant as definitive and it certainly does not feel at any point as if the reader is being dictated to. He is often condemned for being middle-brow but the length of the bibliography at the back should put paid to those assumptions.
Not only a fine academic work but a brilliant read. That is not a sentence I write very often.
It moves quickly through the neolithic and Roman periods and onto medieval history. It seems that this is the real highlight for Schama, his enthusiasm for his work is most notable when he writing about instability. His superb deconstruction of Richard II during the peasants revolt is a prime example of this. However, he is sensible enough to avoid the mistake of dividing British history into 'good' and 'bad' monarchs.
Case studies are provided to act as background to the narrative. Eyewitness accounts of Thomas Becket's various disputes with Henry II being particularly impressive. Another example is the dark humour of the portrait of the 'Three living and three dead', an especially poignant work about the black death. Schama's background as an art historian undoubtedly influenced the images selected for the book.
There are several moments where it seems that there will be a shift towards a more conventional telling, especially during the section on Edward I. Nonetheless, he is quick to address this with acknowledgements that both sides committed atrocities during that conflict. He does well to shy away from the Braveheart perspective on William Wallace, who was in fact just as coldly ruthless as Edward.
Understandably, he treads carefully as we reach the Tudor period. Perhaps the most well-known of all parts of British history, Schama sticks closely to fact and is not given to romanticising Henry VIII in particular. Many recent depictions of the Tudors have played on the idea that it was an era of frivolous courtly love spoilt by the odd religious schism. That view is given short shrift as we are quickly introduced to the ruthlessness of Henry, Edward VI and Mary. The harrowing section on the death of Anne Boleyn being a particular highlight.
Fortunately he is also not given to glorifying Elizabeth I. He recognises her immense contribution towards religious healing in Britain but also sees that she was often maddeningly indecisive, especially when dealing with the many threats on her life. He recognises that when 'Gloriana' was at the peak of her powers, she was indeed a formidable monarch but that, as she went into decline, she was used by those closest to her.
There is no doubt that this reflects the balanced nature of the first volume of this work. Though there are many ways in which it is a conventional telling of early British history it does not shy away from occasional revisionism. Schama makes the point very early on that it is a personal history, not meant as definitive and it certainly does not feel at any point as if the reader is being dictated to. He is often condemned for being middle-brow but the length of the bibliography at the back should put paid to those assumptions.
Not only a fine academic work but a brilliant read. That is not a sentence I write very often.
Tuesday 10 August 2010
'Dune' by Frank Herbert
This novel is an epic in both scale and length. At times, the imagination required to picture such an alien landscape is difficult to comprehend. Just as difficult, in fact, as wading through some of the over-extended sentences that Herbert is prone to using on occasion. Open any page in Dune and both will be present in large doses.
That is not to say that it is not an enjoyable read, it certainly is, but it is by no means a fast one. At first, we are introduced to the House Atreides, of which the main character Paul is a member. His father, Duke Leto, has been maneuvered into taking over the governorship of a barren desert world known as Arrakis.
Their stay on Arrakis quickly descends into violence as it gradually becomes clear that the Duke is being used. His great rival, the Baron Harkonnen is behind this plot. Harkonnen is a fantastic literary creation, full of the contradictions and bloodlust of a man obsessed with power. The contempt with which he treats even his own family is something to behold.
Amongst the chaos following the Baron's plot, we pick up the story with Paul, who is cast out amongst the natives of Arrakis. Paul's tale is one that is often difficult to follow, largely due to the sheer number of names that Herbert insists on calling him, for example: Paul, Muad'Dib, Kwaitz-Haderach and Usul to mention but a few. Nonetheless, the harsh beauty of the landscape is conveyed throughout and the characterisation of the natives is very well executed.
Following a series of violent encounters, Paul finds himself as the leader of the natives. He is pushed forward following a prophecy given to them and as a result finds himself as the leader of not just an army, but a religious movement. It is a role that he resists but nonetheless has to accept. As a result, by the close of the book, he has become assured in his decisions, perhaps to his detriment.
His mother Jessica, who accompanies him throughout, attempts to keep him on a mortal plane but she struggles with the task. She gives birth to Paul's sister, who may yet hold the key to his grand plans. The climax of the book leaves as many questions as it does answers but it can be assured that both of them have an important role to play in the remaining books of the trilogy.
Overall, 'Dune' is a fine work of Science Fiction that is perhaps not worthy of the title 'greatest ever' with which it is often burdened. It is a book filled with tremendous landscapes, yet, sometimes the similies seem just as extended. Despite that reservation, I would recommend it to anyone with even a passing interest in sci-fi.
That is not to say that it is not an enjoyable read, it certainly is, but it is by no means a fast one. At first, we are introduced to the House Atreides, of which the main character Paul is a member. His father, Duke Leto, has been maneuvered into taking over the governorship of a barren desert world known as Arrakis.
Their stay on Arrakis quickly descends into violence as it gradually becomes clear that the Duke is being used. His great rival, the Baron Harkonnen is behind this plot. Harkonnen is a fantastic literary creation, full of the contradictions and bloodlust of a man obsessed with power. The contempt with which he treats even his own family is something to behold.
Amongst the chaos following the Baron's plot, we pick up the story with Paul, who is cast out amongst the natives of Arrakis. Paul's tale is one that is often difficult to follow, largely due to the sheer number of names that Herbert insists on calling him, for example: Paul, Muad'Dib, Kwaitz-Haderach and Usul to mention but a few. Nonetheless, the harsh beauty of the landscape is conveyed throughout and the characterisation of the natives is very well executed.
Following a series of violent encounters, Paul finds himself as the leader of the natives. He is pushed forward following a prophecy given to them and as a result finds himself as the leader of not just an army, but a religious movement. It is a role that he resists but nonetheless has to accept. As a result, by the close of the book, he has become assured in his decisions, perhaps to his detriment.
His mother Jessica, who accompanies him throughout, attempts to keep him on a mortal plane but she struggles with the task. She gives birth to Paul's sister, who may yet hold the key to his grand plans. The climax of the book leaves as many questions as it does answers but it can be assured that both of them have an important role to play in the remaining books of the trilogy.
Overall, 'Dune' is a fine work of Science Fiction that is perhaps not worthy of the title 'greatest ever' with which it is often burdened. It is a book filled with tremendous landscapes, yet, sometimes the similies seem just as extended. Despite that reservation, I would recommend it to anyone with even a passing interest in sci-fi.
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