Review: Such a Long Journey

Such a Long Journey by Rohinton Mistry
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Rohinton Mistry’s Such a Long Journey is one of those remarkable confluences of astonishingly beautiful writing, tightly crafted plot, and fully-developed characterization. The work is neither pretentious nor formulaic. And although there is no major crisis that takes place, no earth-shattering destruction of place or person, there is a sustained tension throughout the novel that keeps you reading, that draws you into the life of the main protagonist, Gustad Noble.

The novel is set during the rule of Indira Gandhi, and is a damning indictment of both her government and American foreign policy of the time. The journey is both a physical and metaphorical one, of Gustad’s bedside visitation of a friend he thought had betrayed him, and of Gustad’s eventual realization that there are few absolutes in life beyond that of death, that for every face there are a myriad of facets.

There are several subtle but poignant metaphors woven throughout this narrative, the most memorable being the character of Tehmul, who is a physically and mentally disabled man with the character of a boy, and it is this pull of the innocent versus the carnal that mirrors much of the political and social turmoil of the novel.

Although short-listed for the 1991 Booker Prize, Such a Long Journey was pulled from the University of Mumbai’s English curriculum because of protests from the family of Hindu nationalist, Bal Thackeray – yet one more example in the world of unenlightened people nurturing fear-mongering.

I’d urge you to read Such a Long Journey. It is a story that will nestle in your psyche and remain.

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Review: The Sentimentalists

The Sentimentalists by Johanna Shively Skibsrud
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

In 2010 Johanna Skibsrud won the Scotiabank Giller Prize, the youngest author to date to take the coveted literary award, for her debut novel, The Sentimentalists.

My own experience of The Sentimentalists was not entirely positive. There are a few moments of poetic writing and beautiful insight; but overall character development often ran to obscurity and confusion, so that it was difficult to connect relationships and individuals. Geographic locations were often muddled, as were nationalities and the justification of characters’ actions.

And while this is a tender tribute to Skibsrud’s own father’s experience during the Vietnam War, there are moments when his wartime memories are revealed, only to devolve into a philosophical daydreaming that didn’t rise much above the navel. To be honest, I closed the book and remained unsure what, exactly, had been the point of the novel. But maybe that was the point. If so, it’s the most subtle and obscure of rationales I’ve come across in some time. And this from the reader who adored Rushdie’s Satanic Verses.

In the end, I remain quite confused as to why this novel merited the Giller.

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Review: Black Ships by Jo Graham

Black Ships by Jo Graham
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Based on Homer's epic Aeneid, Jo Graham's Black Ships certainly has dynamic and profound material with which to work. Unfortunately, Graham's delivery falls short of anything but a mildly entertaining chick-lit read.

Having said that, there are echoes of Marion Zimmer Bradley's style here, a retelling of a male-oriented legend from a female, even feminist point of view, in this case the oracle known as Pythia replacing the Arthurian Morgaine. And yet Graham's characters failed to rise off the page, to engage, to vividly occupy the imagination. In fact, I very much felt throughout the story that Graham simply populated her story with dolls and predictably moved them about. It was as though Graham found herself bound by the very legend she attempted to illuminate.

Which is disappointing. This is stuff to fire the imagination. And because of the writing style, and the lack of vivid character development, it's a sure bet I'll give the rest of this series a pass.

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Social Media as White Noise

I am about to write heresy.

It's occurred to me social media and networking has become little else than white noise.

It's hard for me to write that, because as a publisher at a indie press social networking and media are alleged to be the lifeblood of marketing. Certainly it's what all the marketing gurus keep yelling. Tweet it. FB it. Boost your SEO ratings. Create Google Ads and FB ads, and Goodreads ads. Create a profile on LinkedIn, and Google+, a professional page on FB.

Engage people in groups on library lists and book club sites. Join Empire Avenue and create hype. Get yourself a YouTube channel and go viral. Podcast and go Apple. Go. Go. Go.

But while you and thousands of other indie publishers and authors are out there beating your own bibles, who is really listening? You have 1000 friends on Facebook, and 2000 followers on Twitter; your Goodreads account has maxed out your friend allotment, and you stare at all these invitations and notices flooding your email and scrolling by like ticker tape on your TweetDeck feed, and you wonder, what does it all mean? And who reads all this stuff?

You're not. That's for sure, because you're trying desperately to edit that next manuscript in the editorial line-up, or (faint hope!) trying to bash out a few hundred words on your own work in progress.

So who's reading all this stuff? Is anyone? Is anyone even reading this blog?

We call this the Information Age. I'm thinking maybe it's not so much about information as it is about people just blathering. Blah, blah, blah, and it's all like listening to spring peepers in May. It creates a music of sort, a song of fecundity and hope. But no one voice rises above, stands out. It's all just one, homogeneous voice. And if you wanted to be part of the symphony, well, you would have joined the symphony. But you had dreamed of soaring, like Jonathan Livingston Seagull, beyond the flock, beyond the music, into something unique and remarkable.

So, is anyone listening?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Review: The English Patient, by Michael Ondaatje

The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I come late to reading award-winning author, Michael Ondaatje, and decided to discover his story-telling ability through a familiar tale, that of the award-winning film made from his novel, The English Patient.

I have been captivated by the film for years. I can now say I have been captivated by Ondaatje's novel. Unlike the film, the novel examines the lives and relationships of Hana, Caravaggio and Kip, rather than the love story between Almasy and Katherine.

Ondaatje's research and presentation of the final days of the Italian Campaign of WWII is impeccable and beautifully presented. There is very much a sense of suspension in the story, of lives on hold, of the last breath before the long exhale of release. There is also a remarkable sense of ambiguity in the story, of the search for meaning when in fact there is none. There is only survival and moments of beauty in between.

This is a deceptively powerful novel, deceptively powerfully written.

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Switching Stories

My desk, where it all happens.

There is a bit of a lull between books at Five Rivers at the moment, allowing me some time to devote to my own writing. It's always a challenge to find time to write.

I've been thrashing around with a new novel for about two years now (blogged about that previously here), and tried returning to it now. To put it bluntly, I foundered. There's a huge emotional investment in that novel, and I find myself avoiding it. So rather than let this opportunity evaporate, I decided to unearth a novella I'd written 20 years ago.

Originally titled Dreamweaver, I decided to call it Caliban instead, given the nature of my main character and the theme of the story which questions what is reality? To my surprise the architecture of the story isn't half bad, certainly worth time and revision. So it looks like that's what I'm doing with the bulk of my time for the next few weeks, while I wait for other manuscripts to come back in from revision. There are a few submissions for me to read, but that's afternoon work.

If I'm at all successful with this revision, I should have the novella off to one of our editors for comment and criticism before the close of the year. We'll see.

Two Reviews: Books 2 and 3 of Pratchett's Discworld

The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

In this the second book of Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, we continue with the adventures of Rincewind, Twoflowers and best of all, the Luggage. (I love the Luggage!) We meet with Cohen the Barbarian (love it!), trolls with diamond teeth, feisty maidens being sacrificed to prevent the red star from crashing into Discworld, and even at the end have an opportunity to share in Great A'Tuin's blessed event.

Pratchett's wit, humour and intelligence are sharp and rapid. Reading this at bedtime proved problematic, in that in a somnolent state I'd completely miss the lampooning of some real world star, and have to go back and reread just so I wouldn't miss out on yet another delightful giggle. Honestly, I haven't laughed so much reading books in my lifetime. I'm hooked. Completely, hopelessly hooked on Pratchett's Discworld.

Some of the best entertainment of the 20th and 21st centuries, and I daresay destined to become classics in generations to come.

View all my reviews Equal Rites by Terry Pratchett
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

In book three of Terry Pratchett's Discworld, both tone and characters change. More of a high fantasy than a farce, Equal Rites explores the rights of women in the patriarchal society of wizards.

Now, let it not be thought this a sobre examination of societal standards through the use of fantasy. Far from it. Pratchett employs his usual sharp wit and play on words to create a fast-paced, endearing and humorous view of wizarding society on Discworld. A quick read that will have you giggling throughout.

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