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.
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