The shortlist has been announced for the 2017 Man Booker prize. The thirteen titles in the longlist have been whittled down to six.
When the longlist was announced I predicted Arundhati Roy, George Saunders, Moshin Hamid and Colson Whitehead would be shortlisted. Well, I was only half right; Roy and Whitehead were booted. Three Americans made the cut, which will undoubtedly reopen debate about whether the Booker should have expanded beyond Commonwealth writers.
The authors vying for the prestigious prize are:
4 3 2 1 by Paul Auster (USA)
History of Wolves by Emily Fridlund (USA)
Exit West by Mohsin Hamid (Pakistan-UK)
Elmet by Fiona Mozley (UK)
Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders (USA)
Autumn by Ali Smith (UK)
I wasn't all that enamoured with the longlist, and so I find the shortlist disappointing. The only ones I expect I will read are Hamid and Saunders. I have started the latter and, if I had to guess, I would pick Lincoln in the Bardo to win. But don't take my word for it. I never get it right!
The winner of the 2017 Miles Franklin Literary Award was announced on Thursday 7 September. Perth-based writer Josephine Wilson was the recipient of the honour and the $60,000 prize for her novel Extinctions. The novel had previously won the 2015 Dorothy Hewett Award for an Unpublished Manuscript.
The story focuses on a retired engineer who has had a once-thriving life as an academic and expert, and has now moved into a retirement village. Widowed and estranged from his adult children, he lives in miserable isolation. When a neighbour intervenes he is forced to confront his loneliness.
The Judges described Extinctions as:
a meditation on survival: on what people carry, on how they cope, and on why they might, after so much putting their head in the sand, come to the decision to engage, and even change.
I have not read this book, so cannot comment on its merits directly. The shortlist from which this novel was chosen as the winner was made up of first-time nominees:
I was drawn to a Rupi Kaur's bestselling collection of poetry, Milk and Honey (2015), in part because I love reading new contemporary poems, but also as I was curious about this poet who had achieved such extraordinary commercial success.
The collection is divided into four parts: hurting; loving; breaking; and healing. The poems themselves align with these themes and are accompanied by the author's drawings.
Some of the poems I found quite moving, but as a whole the book left me flat. Many of the poems are only a few words long and sound like fortune cookies or horoscopes, for example: fall in love with your solitude if the hurt comes so will the happiness accept yourself as you were designed
This was frustrating, leaving me underwhelmed. Lowercase, lacking punctuation, and often rather twee, these morsels drew my attention away from her more meaningful verse with its feminist undercurrent.
Much of this book felt like I was viewing the Twitter stream of a daily self-help account. Reading the thoughts of reviewers on Goodreads and elsewhere it appears that Kaur's verse is polarising, with some people buying into it wholly, and others asking if it is actually poetry. I lean more towards the detractor side, and it was only the few meaningful poems contained in this collection and the lovely illustrations that prevented me from throwing this book across the room.
It has been many years since I last read an Agatha Christie novel. I had a minor obsession with Christie as a teenager in the 1980s, back when Peter Ustinov played detective Hercule Poirot in films like Death on the Nile and Evil Under the Sun. I read those key novels and Murder on the Orient Express as well as And Then There Were None.Then I moved on from Agatha and sort of forgot about her.
Last week I was rushing out the door to work and, having finished one book and uncertain what to tackle next, I grabbed Christie's The Mysterious Affair at Styles (1920) on a whim. This delightful novel became my commute companion and a warm nostalgia swept over me as I read this first story featuring Hercule Poirot.
The novel begins with Arthur Hastings, a soldier who goes to convalesce at his old friend John Cavendish's family manor Styles. John's stepmother Emily Inglethorpe has recently remarried a younger man, who is much loathed by the Cavendish family. There are concerns that he is a gold digger out to steal the fortune and property away from John and his brother Lawrence.
One morning the house awakes to a racket, as Mrs Inglethorpe is dying from being poisoned. But who could have done such a thing? Enter Belgian detective Hercule Poirot, a friend of Hastings who is staying nearby to wait out the war. Over the coming days Poirot makes many deductions and discovers a great deal of evidence. Poirot warns his friend that evidence can be too conclusive and that 'real evidence is usually vague and unsatisfactory.'
Christie is a masterful storyteller and a queen of the whodunit genre. She throws in enough red herrings to keep the reader guessing, and brings everything together in a room full of suspects where Poirot outs the true villain.
It was great to go back to the start and see how Christie introduces Poirot, who 'might look natural on a stage, but was strangely out of place in real life'. And now that I have begun again, I am keen to read more and see how the characters evolve.
I first heard about British novelist and short story writer Angela Carter two decades ago, when I was an undergraduate student. I took an English course called 'Major Women Writers' so I could explore Austen, Woolf, Eliot, Murdoch, Sand, Gaskell, Plath, Hurston, Morrison, Rich, Gordimer, Wharton and a bunch of Brontes.
The year before I had taken a year-long course titled 'Major British Writers' which included NO women writers. When I protested to my professor he told me there were no female authors he would consider 'major' and that maybe I should go do 'women's studies or something' if I wanted to read these lesser storytellers. My rage lead me directly to the women's studies department and my subsequent Master in Gender Studies. But I digress...
Angela Carter came up on the syllabus of my 'Major Women Writers' course and I have a vague recollection of reading her stories back in the early 1990s. I recently became reacquainted with her work and have just finished The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories (1979). This collection of short stories is based on well known fairy tales but with a modern twist. The macabre title story is based on the fairytale Bluebeard in which a wealthy older man marries a young girl and takes her to his castle, where she discovers the fate of his previous wives in a secret chamber. In Carter's version a teenage girls marries a twice-widowed French Marquis and heads off to an isolated castle. She discovers her new husband has a keen interested in pornography and S&M. He leaves her with a key to a room that must not be opened, but the temptation gets the better of her... I quite enjoyed this opening story as in addition to the Bluebird familiarity, there were shades of Du Maurier's Rebecca, Bronte's Jane Eyre, Hill's Woman in Black and other tales. What I loved most was Carter's descriptive writing style creating a rich atmosphere.
The next two stories are variations on Beauty and the Beast, and I preferred 'The Courtship of Mr Lyon' to 'The Tiger's Bride'. I found it strange that they put these two stories back to back in the collection, and perhaps I would have enjoyed the second version more if I had put some space between the stories. Similarly, there are three werewolf stories at the end of the collection based on Little Red Riding Hood which must have been deliberately put together but the effect of which made me rather bored.
Highlights include Carter's 'Puss-in-Boots' - a funny story of a cat who lives with a promiscuous man, and helps him woo a young married woman - and 'The Lady in The House of Love' about a lonely vampire and a virginal English soldier. Her 'Company of Wolves' was made into a film by Neil Jordan in 1984.
Carter is undoubtably an excellent writer with her crisp, evocative prose and sharp wit. The feminist perspective is definitely present and when first published these tales may have been shocking, with the overt sensuality of the heroines, and the reinvention of gothic conventions. Over time, some of this boldness may have been lost. But what remains is a masterful, imaginative storyteller with a true gift for gothic literature.
My daily commute to and from work takes about 30-40 minutes each way, with a ten minute train ride and the remainder on foot. This relaxing journey allows me the opportunity to reflect on the day ahead, or the day that has passed, and to learn.
Most of my travel time in recent weeks has been taken up with various podcasts, many of which I have stumbled across from my Random Reads. Many of these podcasts have also inspired me to further reading.
So here (hear!) are some of the podcasts I have been listening to lately.
S-Town I loved the first season of Serial, and I occasionally listen to This American Life, so I was intrigued by their latest podcast, S-Town.
John B McLemore is an erudite restorer of antique clocks living in 'Shit-town Alabama', his name for Woodstock in Bibb Country. He lives with his elderly mother on a property out of town, and is full of despair about the plight of modern America and the impending doom of climate change. John contacts journalist Brian Reed to tell him there is an unsolved murder in his hometown and he is worried about police corruption and a cover up. Reed corresponds with McLemore, talks with him and eventually visits S-Town to investigate this crime. While McLemore was wrong about the murder, he provides Reed with an entirely different story which is absolutely fascinating.
This was a remarkable podcast, the equivalent of a page-turning thriller, as I continually wanted to know more about John, Bibb County and where the story would lead. In parts it made me uncomfortable, thinking about privacy, ethics and journalism, as Reed digs deeper into the life of John B McLemore. Sad, poignant, funny, and intelligent, this podcast is literary and compelling. The way the story was told reminded me of John Berendt's Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (1994) and also JD Vance's Hillbilly Elegy(2016).
Be prepared to binge on the seven episodes, as you will be hooked. Learn more about on the S-Town website.
Trace
Another Serial-esque podcast is ABC's Trace. In June 1980 Maria James was brutally stabbed to death in the bookshop she owned in Melbourne. Journalist Rachael Brown investigates this unsolved murder with the help of James' sons, detectives that worked on the case, and others.
To date only four episodes have aired, but they have been intriguing. Along the way, listeners have been aiding in the investigation, coming forward to tell what they know of the events that took place almost forty years ago. There are many theories of the case, and several possible suspects.
The good news is that Victoria Police have now reopened the investigation, and there are real possibilities that this murder may be solved (whether justice is done is another matter!). I have really enjoyed this podcast but I admit to being totally frustrated that Trace is currently on hold while it awaits actions by the Police and to see whether there will be a Coronial Inquest. I want to know who killed Maria James and to see her family get the closure they deserve. For more on Trace, see the website.
Malcolm Gladwell's Revisionist History
I have always enjoyed the writing of my fellow Trinity alumni Malcolm Gladwell, author of The Tipping Point (2000) Outliers (2008), Blink (2005) and What the Dog Saw(2009). He is a curious man who finds new and interesting ways of looking at things. His podcast began in 2016 and he describes it as a way of looking at the past and exploring 'something overlooked or misunderstood'.
I started listening to it 2016 as the first episode focussed on a little known painter names Elizabeth Thompson, who Gladwell compared to Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard, in the way they both broke through the glass ceiling only to be greeted with hostility and contempt. Thompson's painting 'The Roll Call' caused a stir in 1874 when it was exhibited in London to hype. Gladwell's theory is that when one lone individual cracks the status quo, the response is often to perpetuate the status quo rather than change it.
Other interesting episodes explore satire and social protest, civil rights, terrorism, genius, music and more. I recently listened to a two-parter on Civil Rights lawyers Donald Hollowell and Vernon Jordon and their attempts to find justice in the segregated American south. Another episode I loved was about golf - yes golf! - and how there are very few public parks in Los Angeles, but lots of private (often exclusive) golf courses and the tax concessions that allow them to thrive.
Every Friday I listen to David Plotz (Atlas Obscura), Emily Bazelon (New York Times Magazine) and John Dickerson (Face the Nation) discuss US politics on the Slate Political Gabfest. This podcast was essential during the election, and even more so now as I try and get my head around the madness in Washington: what is happening on Capitol Hill, inside the Supreme Court and its impact on the wider world.
It is humourous and intelligent and I love the way the panelists play off each other. This podcast has also introduced me to some interesting articles as they discuss what is making news. One recent article that I read as a spin off from this podcast is Bazelon's story about Noura Jackson, a teenager convicted of her mother's murder, and how prosecutors withheld evidence that would have exonerated her.
I also appreciate that the Gabfest website contains references to what they have been talking about and ideas for further reading.
Chat 10 Looks 3 I have previously written about my fondness for Annabel Crabb and Leigh Sales and their podcast on what they are reading, watching and eating. They say this podcast is 'time well -wasted' and I heartily agree. For me it is like sitting down with old friends across the kitchen table and having a good natter about tv, books and movies.
This podcast has lead me to discover many books, articles and tv shows. As a regular listener to this irregular podcast, I know the in-jokes, expect the sometimes dodgy audio, and don't get annoyed when they occasionally talk about something they mentioned many months ago.
The perfect antidote to a stressful day, the only downside of this podcast for me is I have bought far too many books as a result of hearing about them here. So if you like banter, books, and baked goods, check out Chat 10 Looks 3.
Rest assured, I have not given up books for podcasts. I have actually been reading a lot lately and have several blog posts in the works. So stay tuned....
'Behold the man. He shuffles out of Clappison's courtyard onto Sykes Street and snuffs the complex air - turpentine, fish-meal, mustard, black lead, the usual grave, morning piss-stink of just emptied night jars. He snorts once, rubs his bristled head and readjusts his crotch. He sniffs his fingers, then slowly sucks each one in turn, drawing off the last remnants, getting his final money's worth."
And so begins Ian McGuire's The North Water (2016). The man referred to is Henry Drax, a vile, murderous monster of a man without a moral compass. It is 1859 and Drax is about to board the Volunteer, a whaling ship headed to the Arctic Circle in search of blubber.
Another man about to set sail is Patrick Sumner, an Irish surgeon who joins the crew as a means of escaping his past. A former military man, he made a regrettable choice during the Siege of Delhi in 1857 which saw him ousted and disgraced. His nightly consumption of laudanum eases his conscience.
As the ship sets sail on a fateful voyage, the hey-day of whaling has almost past, with overfishing and a shift to whale oil substitutes like kerosene. The whalers know how dangerous their work is: as they battle against the elements, in small wooden boats against massive sea creatures. There is a lot that can kill you in the North water.
The two men at the heart of this novel are bound to come into conflict. When a boy is found brutally violated and murdered, Sumner discovers just how dangerous Drax is. It becomes a fight for survival on the ice.
This novel is not for the faint-hearted. The language is foul and visceral. There are graphic descriptions of rape, murder, illness, animal cruelty, primitive medical procedures, and the like - which cause the reader to wince or retch. (Indeed I found myself rushing past the clubbing of seals). I have never experienced a book like this before - where I could feel the cold in my bones from McGuire's descriptions, and literally smell the sick, stale air.
As a landlubber, I have no idea why I am drawn to nautical books. But I love tales of adventure set on the high seas - Patrick O'Brian, Joseph Conrad, Daniel Defoe, CS Forester, Herman Melville - and I regularly reread Hemingway's Old Man and The Sea. The North Water is a gripping novel and one that I would highly recommend. It was longlisted for the Man Booker prize in 2016.
This week the Longlist was announced for the 2017 Man Booker prize. The thirteen titles nominated are diverse, with authors from America, Pakistan, India, Ireland and the UK.
I have not yet read any of these books but I have several on my 'to be read' pile. What I love about the Longlist is that it introduces me to many books I do not know. From last year's Longlist I discovered the remarkable His Bloody Projectby Graeme Macrae Burnetand Ian McGuire's amazing The North Water.
Let's take a look at the books that make up the longlist:
4 3 2 1 by Paul Auster (USA)
American author Paul Auster is nominated for his first Booker. This is the story of Archibald Ferguson, the only child of Stanley and Rose, born in 1947. In a 'sliding doors' manner, Ferguson lives four distinct parallel lives. I have only read one book by Auster, his New York Trilogy (1986) which I wasn't overly enamoured with. At 880 pages, I don't think I will be embarking on this Auster any time soon.
Days Without End by Sebastian Barry (Ireland)
In the 1850s, Thomas McNulty leaves Ireland for America and joins the army to fight the civil war. There he meets John Cole, a fellow soldier, and falls in love. They meet a young Indian girl and have to decide what path to take in their lives. Barry has previously been shortlisted for the Booker in 2005 for A Long, Long Way and this novel won the 2016 Costa Book of the Year award.
History of Wolves by Emily Fridlund (USA)
This is a debut novel Fridlund introduces us to fourteen year old Linda, who lives with her parents in rural Minnesota. A family moves in nearby and Linda is drawn to them for their normality. They provide her with the sense of belonging she craves. I am intrigued by this book, as a love unreliable narrators, but I will have to wait a little while before I can get around to reading it.
Exit West by Mohsin Hamid (Pakistan-UK)
In the war ravaged Middle East a couple begin a romance and seek escape. Rumours spread of doors across the city which open to new cities - London, Dubai, San Francisco - so the couple search for their exit. I met Mohsin Hamid briefly at the Sydney Writers' Festival in 2015 when he was promoting The Reluctant Fundamentalist. I was impressed with his intelligent commentary on Islam, extremism and refugees. This is definitely on my list to read.
Solar Bones by Mike McCormack (Ireland)
Winner of the Goldsmiths Prize and the BGE Irish Book of the Year 2016, this novel has received much praise for its innovation. Told in a single sentence (over 273 pages!) McCormack narrates the thoughts of engineer Marcus Conway as he contemplates his life. I am definitely intrigued by the sounds of this book, and love a novel told in verse. But I don't know if I would be driven crazy by the lack of punctuation.
Reservoir 13 by Jon McGregor (UK)
A 13 year old girl goes missing while on holiday with her family. The local residents begin a search for the girl, media descends on the town. Time passes, life goes on, but the aftermath of the tragedy lingers. This is not a crime novel, but more of a reflection on life. McGregor has been longlisted for the Booker twice before, for If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things (2002) and So Many Ways to Begin (2006).
Elmet by Fiona Mozley (UK)
This is the debut novel from Mozley and it is one I had never heard of. It is described on the Booker website as 'a lyrical commentary on contemporary English society and one family's precarious place in it, as well as an exploration of how deep the bond between father and child can go.' My initial thought is meh... not going to rush to read this.
The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy (India)
In 1997 Roy won the Booker for her first novel The God of Small Things. Twenty years later, this is Roy's long-awaited second novel. I have heard mixed things about this complex novel filled with many characters. Roy is an activist and this is a critique of modern day Indian politics. I greatly admire Roy and have enjoyed her articles and non-fiction. There is a weight of expectation with this novel, after twenty years, but I think I will wait a little bit longer before deciding whether to read it.
Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders (USA)
This is the first novel from short story writer Saunders. It follows Willie, the son of President Abraham Lincoln, who died at the age of 11. The dead boy interacts with his mourning father in this novel, which takes place over a single night. I have heard so many great things about this book. I have it and it has been creeping its way towards the top of my 'to be read' pile. Looks like I will have to get on to it soon.
Home Fire by Kamile Shamsie (UK-Pakistan)
This novel is inspired by Antigone by Sophocles. Largely set in London, Pakistani Isma raises her siblings after their mother dies and their father leaves to fight with the Taliban. The story addresses issues of identity, migration, religion, family, and love.
Autumn by Ali Smith (UK)
I always love the artwork on Ali Smith's books. Autumn features a lush Hockney painting of 'Early November Tunnel'. If I am to judge a book by its cover, this one is fantastic! Autumn is part of Smith's 'Seasons' series and it is a story about ageing and time. It begins with the line "It was the worst of times, it was the worst of times' - which draws the reader in. A previous Booker shortlister for How to be Both (2014), Smith is a formidable writer. Looking forward to exploring this series.
Swing Time by Zadie Smith (UK)
This is a coming of age story about friendship and its end. Two girls grown up on a council estate, but their lives are different. In their early twenties, the friendship falls apart. Smith is said to have been influenced in this book by Elena Ferrante. Previously shortlisted for the Booker in 2005 for On Beauty, I have this book on my ereader and plan to read it this year.
The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead (USA)
Whitehead won the Pulitzer Prize, National Book Award and many other accolades for this novel, so I was not surprised to see The Underground Railroad nominated for the Booker. This is the story of Cora, a slave on a Georgia cotton plantation. She risks everything to escape to the North via the underground railroad. This book is definitely on my reading list.
The shortlist will be announced on 13 September 2017, with the winner named on 17 October 2017.
Having read none of the titles, I am in no position to predict the winner, but I reckon the following will be shortlisted: Arundhati Roy, George Saunders, Moshin Hamid and Colson Whitehead. A complete guess, but that is where I will start my Booker reading.
Here's a short video released by the Booker judges.
My reading continues to be eclectic. World politics, technology, organisational development, literature and more have been filling my spare time. Also, now that I am a commuter I have been enjoying a range of podcasts. So here's a bit of what I have been up to.
With the G20 meeting in Germany and the recent revelations from Donald Trump Jr, politics and diplomacy have dominated my reading in the past fortnight. Highlights include:
David Brooks wrote a piece on the 'Moral Vacuum in the House of Trump' for the New York Times in which he explores the Trump philosophy of winning at any cost. Of Jr he writes, "he seems to be simply oblivious to the idea that ethical concerns could possibly play a role in everyday life". This got me thinking about how someone can become "incapable of even entertaining any moral consideration". When does personal/familial ambition override morals and ethics?
The NYTimes Editorial Board wrote an opinion on 'Mr Trump, the Climate Change Loner' about how Trump has isolated himself by withdrawing from the Paris Accord, evident at the G20 (G19?) and in his recent meeting with President Macron. They write that it is unlikely that Trump will awaken to the evidence of climate science, or take on board the economic arguments favouring renewables. Rather, they hope that "someday Mr Trump will awaken to the fact that the leaders of the world, who again and again have demonstratively turned their backs on him, regard him with astonishment and dismay." I am not so sure. Trump seems to view the world in binaries and his ego is perhaps immune to opinions he does not subscribe to.
Time Magazine took the step of putting Jr on the cover to accompany David Von Drehle's article 'How Donald Trump Jr's Emails Have Cranked Up the Heat on His Family'. Drehle explores the question many people are asking - how bad is it? He goes on to explore the legal, political and reputation stakes as this saga unfolds. So while Drehle doesn't answer outright, I'm going to go with pretty bad, and there is no doubt more to come...
David Remnick writes a thoughtful piece in The New Yorker on 'Trump Family Values'. He considers how close the family is and how morally bankrupt they appear. He turns his attention to the Republicans, who will soon have to make a choice about whether to continue to back Trump and risk the 2018 mid-term elections. Remnick writes:
"The Republicans, the self-proclaimed party of family values, remain squarely behind a family and a Presidency whose most salient features are amorality, greed, demagoguery, deception, vulgarity, race-baiting, misogyny, and, potentially - only time and further investigation will tell - a murky relationship with a hostile foreign government."
Besides the Trump saga, I have been reading quite a bit about digital disruption, attention spans and learning. Here are some of the articles that drew my interest:
The rise of the robots has attracted my attention a few times this week. The Independent published an article by May Bulman suggesting that workers in lower socioeconomic groups may be disadvantaged by automation causing job loss and that a greater class disparity may arise from labour market changes. Likewise, an article by Fergus Hanson in The Australian spoke of the coming robot revolution.
Dr Patti Shank wrote an interesting piece on attention span, busting the myth that our attention span is getting smaller. Shank gets behind the 'research' and shows that the oft-cited statistics about attention have no merit and how learning designers can support memory and retention. It is available on the elearning industry website.
Lea Waters wrote in The Atlantic how 'Goofing Off Helps Kids Learn'. She writes about strength-based parenting and the need for children to pause and not be overly scheduled. Advocating play-based learning, and a 'less-is-more' approach, Waters prescribes free time to reboot young brains. I feel for those kids that have so many extra-curricular activities that they have no free time.
Heather Rose won the 2017 Stella Prize for her incredible novel The Museum of Modern Love. Set in New York in 2010, Rose has crafted an intricate story of love, loss and commitment against the backdrop of a real event.
Serbian performance artist Marina Abramovic spent 75 days in residence at the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA). Along with a retrospective of her work, Abramovic staged a piece called The Artist is Present in which she sat at a table in the centre of a gallery opposite an empty chair in which attendees could take a seat for as much or as little time as they liked. Abramovic would not speak, but would engage by looking into the eyes of those opposite. Photographer Marco Anelli captured the exchange with every sitter. Many celebrities - Alan Rickman, Bjork, Colm Toibin, James Franco, Lou Reed, Lady Gage - took their seat with Abramovic, as did many others who made the pilgrimage to sit with the artist, some on multiple occasions.
Inspired by Abramovic, Rose has created a novel which focuses on several characters who are intrigued by Abramovic's piece. Jane Miller, a recently widowed teacher, observes countless sitters and talks openly to people in the queue. Film score composer Arky Levin is struggling to find his rhythm now that his ill wife has moved out of the house. Brittika is a Dutch doctoral student who is writing about Abramovic. Each is somehow entranced by The Artist is Present, by the way Abramovic can sit, motionless, for hours on end, staring into the eyes of strangers. Through their observations of this piece of performance art, they learn about themselves and what they are capable of.
Abramovic herself is an interesting character. Rose has drawn from interviews to create her version of Marina, and Abramovic gave permission to be fictionalised in this novel. We learn about Marina's art, her family, her love and collaboration with artist Ulay. I must admit I often don't 'get' performance art - and much of Abramovic's work is too wrought with physical and emotional pain to bear. But The Artist is Present grew on me and I came to understand and become slightly obsessed by it. I wonder what would have been revealed about me if I had spent time with Abramovic.
I absolutely loved this book. I started reading it in May, just before I went overseas. I was so engrossed in the story I debated taking the paperback with me. I ended up leaving it behind, but vowed to purchase another copy at Sydney airport to read on the plane, only to find none were available. So I had to wait five weeks to pick up where I left off, and during that time I thought regularly of all the characters and wondered what their fates might be.
Rose has done something wonderful in her blending of fact and fiction, and I think Abramovic would be delighted with the boldness and bravery Rose shows. This is an original work, and in the hands of a lesser writer it would have been a mess. But here we have a gently unfolding story, a meditation on what is art, and how art can save people. I recommend this novel to anyone interested in art, love, and literature.
David Marr is one of my favourite writers. As a journalist he digs deep, researching his subject with an eagle-eyed intensity, and pulling out the story behind the known biography. As a writer he is sharp, quick-witted and empathetic.
So when his Quarterly Essay (QE65) on Pauline Hanson arrived, I was thrilled to spend a weekend in Marr's company. I was not disappointed. The White Queen: One Nation and the Politics of Race, takes that which is known about Pauline Hanson and adds layers of analysis to explain her personal and political resilience and her attraction to segments of the electorate. Marr is interested in what makes Hanson tick. More importantly he seeks to discover what has happened to Australia and who we are today. He asks "what role does race play in the politics of the country?"
Hanson is a great lens to look at Australia's race politics through. She has made her career by denigrating Aboriginals, shrieking about Australia being 'swamped' by Asians, and more recently by calling for an inquiry into Islam and wanting Muslim immigration stopped. Her outspoken and often off-the-cuff comments demonstrate that she is media-savvy and knows what stunts will get her the publicity she desires. She preys on fear and manufactures panic.
Rather than condemn her as a racist, Prime Minister John Howard carefully adopted some of her views in order to attract voters from the margins. It is a fine line that the government and opposition walk daily as she now has some influence in the Senate. How do you call her out as a racist without condemning her voters are such?
In exploring race and politics, Marr looks at data from the Australian Electoral Study to try to understand whether the country is becoming more racist. He picks apart the demographics of current One Nation voters and what drives them. Marr is clear that Hanson is no Trump and she is not riding a wave of populism like Brexit. He argues she is not capable of withstanding sustained scrutiny and her star may fade before the next election.
While elections are won and lost on the fringes - the marginal electorates where more extreme views come to play - Marr points out that most Australians are in the middle, more optimistic and have more liberal views. There is reason to hope that Hanson and her ilk will slink off to the sidelines, but only if we all continue to challenge her hateful, racist views.
Back in 2013 I read Gillian Flynn's bestseller Gone Girl (2012) and really enjoyed it as a gripping page-turner with an unreliable narrator. I then looked for Flynn's previous novels - Dark Places (2009) and Sharp Objects (2006) but somehow got distracted with other books and never read them.
On a recent holiday I was keen for a good thriller, so decided to read Flynn's second novel Dark Places. The protagonist is Libby Day, an adult who has never quite found her place in the world. When Libby was only seven, her mother and two sisters were killed in a horrific crime. Libby testified against her fifteen year old brother Ben, who is currently serving life in prison.
Broke and unemployed, Libby takes up a paid speaking engagement from a group obsessed with the Day murders. Conspiracy theories abound, and many are convinced that Ben did not commit the crimes for which he has been jailed. Libby then had to confront her past, her memory of events, and unpick what happened.
What I liked about the story was the way in which the narrative switched from the present to the past, so we could see what transpired in the lead up to the murders and the aftermath. Being familiar with Flynn's writing, I anticipated that there would be more than a few red herrings and twists. I also appreciate that the characters are largely unlikeable, which appeals to me as a reader.
However there were a number of frustrations that drove me crazy. Many characters were underdeveloped (e.g. Diondra, Ben) and Libby was so boring that it was hard to care for her. There are grotesque descriptions of cruelty to animals and violence towards people that is both gratuitous and unnecessary. But the worst offence in this thriller is that the ending is totally implausible and rushed (there is no way the characters would have made the decisions they did on the day of the murders). As such, I won't be in a hurry to read other Flynn books.
A film of Dark Places was made in 2015 with Charlize Theron in the lead role. I have not seen it.
So, if you are looking for a good thriller, this ain't it. I would recommend you turn your attentions to the Cormoran Strike novels by Robert Galbraith (JK Rowling) or to some recent Australian thrillers like Jane Harper's The Dry and Emily Maguire's An Isolated Incident.
It has been a while since I posted about my random reads. I have definitely been doing the reading, but the processing and sharing has been put on hold as work took up a lot of my time in the last two months. But now I can get back at it.
This week I have been reading a lot about US politics. I was shocked (but not surprised) when Trump sacked FBI Director James Comey, and then threatened him on Twitter with 'tapes' of their conversations. Some interesting pieces that cover this saga are:
James Fallows writing in The Atlantic, "Five Reasons the Comey Affair is Worse Than Watergate". Fallows details the circumstances that allowed for Watergate and compares them to today. He argues that Trump is "impulsive, and ignorant, and apparently beyond the reach of any control, even his own."
Nicolas Kristof's op-ed for The New York Times, "Is President Trump Obstructing Justice?" points to how Trump has "challenged and evaded the ethics rules that traditionally constrain administration officials."
Jeffrey Toobin in The New Yorker writes "Firing Comey was a Grave Abuse of Power". He argues that "Trump has proved himself temperamentally and intellectually unfit for the Presidency".
TheNew York Times Editorial Board have published "The Republican's Guide to Presidential Behaviour" which offers a scathing indictment of the new low standards to which Trump has sunk. No longer is the President to be admired as a role model to the world.
David Frum published an interesting piece for The Atlantic on why "A Special Prosecutor is Not the Answer". Many have been calling for an independent investigation into the alleged Trump-Russia connections. Frum argues that the role of the special prosecutor is to investigate crimes, so if there is something uncovered that is wrong but not prosecutable, the prosecutor is supposed to look away.
David Frum has also done an interesting short video on public indifference which is leading to Trump's autocracy. Much to think about.
Beyond politics, here are some of the other things I have been reading lately:
Christopher Orr wrote an interesting piece in The Atlantic titled "How Pixar Lost Its Way" in which he dissects what happened to the most innovative animation company once bought by Disney. The creativity and quality Pixar was renowned for gave way to pressure for sequels and merchandising. A cautionary tale serving as a reminder to hold true to your values.
Alice Bolin wrote an interesting piece for Electric Lit called "Miss Marple vs the Mansplainers: Agatha Christie's Feminist Detective Hero". In it she explores spinster stereotypes and women's intuition. It contains an interesting contrast of the urban noir stories of Chandler and Hammett to the domestic village mysteries of Christie, Marsh and Sayers.
Joanna Robinson's article for Vanity Fair on "Why the 1980s Anne of Green Gables is such a Hard Act to Follow" brought back many fond memories. As a child I devoured LM Montgomery's Anne books and when the tv series came out my obsession grew. This article nails it - highlighting all the various reasons to love Anne and the lessons she taught us. Time to revisit again I think...
I have always enjoyed the writings of Australian essayist, memoirist and poet Clive James. His wit and wisdom comes through in every line. Last year I purchased his Collected Poems 1958-2015 and have been slowly making my way through this epic tome, savouring every morsel.
The five decades of verse contained within are wonderful. Despite leaving Australia for England in the 1960s, there is a fondness and longing for his birthplace that permeates many of the poems. Whether it is the song lyrics he wrote for Pete Atkin, of the poems he wrote while battling illness, each one demonstrates his intellect and ability.
The poems I liked best are ones about people, such as "The Young Australian Rider, PG Burman" and "In Praise of Marjorie Jackson". He also writes poetic letters to Martin Amis, Gore Vidal and others. The poems from his collection "Sentenced to Life", written when diagnosed with leukaemia, are so emotional and raw.
I loved the poem "The Book of My Enemy Has Been Remaindered" in which he takes delight at a competitor's bad fortune. His "Fridge Magnet Sonnets" reminded me of my dud attempts to composed poems on my refrigerator.
James' verse is so evocative. Some of my favourite lines are:
The treetops shudder to silence like coins set spinning (from "Berowra Waters, New South Wales")
He asked her hand in marriage. She said yes. / Later he often said she must have known / To be with him was to be left alone (from "Flashback on Fast Forward")
Under the jacarandas / The pigeons and the gulls / Pick at the fallen purple / That inundates the grass / For two weeks in October. (from "Under the Jacarandas")
My cataracts invest the bright spring day / With extra glory, with a glow that stings. (from "Too Much light")
I know this will be a collection that I dip in and out of whenever I need to feed my soul.
American blogger and columnist for the Guardian, Lindy West recently visited Australia for the All About Women Festival. She appeared on ABC's QnA and had a lot of interesting things to say about misogyny, body image and violence against women. So I grabbed a copy of her memoir Shrill - Notes from a Loud Women (2016) to see what else I could learn from her.
In a series of essays, West talks about the challenges of growing up fat, internet trolls, abortion, pop culture, misogyny, bullying and more. Having recently read Clementine Ford's Fight Like a Girl(2016), it was hard not to compare the two as they both cover similar ground. West's is better written (though still very bloggy), has more humour, and in some respects was more personal. It is at times emotional, suddenly hilarious and always thought-provoking.
A chapter that stood out for me is "Hello, I Am Fat" in which she recounts the difficulty of working with a boss who hated obesity. Lindy has landed her dream job as a writer for "The Stranger" in Seattle. Her boss Dan Savage regularly wrote fat-shaming pieces articulating his disgust. West approached Savage and told him how she felt having a boss writing pieces about people like her and when he didn't stop she wrote a post in The Stranger, 'coming out' as fat. In it she talks about how if her employer was so concerned about her health, he should also be concerned about her mental health and the impact of fat-shaming. The chapter covers this episode and it's aftermath. It is pretty powerful.
Another chapter that was interesting was about the comedy-club scene and misogyny. West was part of this scene, really enjoying comedy until she took a stand on rape jokes. A comedian in Hollywood made some rape jokes and a woman in the audience told him that it wasn't funny. The comedian then suggested it would be funny if she were gang raped in the club. West wrote a column about this incident and then went on TV to debate a comedian about it. The chapter made me think about whether there are some things that are never funny, or whether it is possible to use humour to throw shade on the perpetrators.
I wasn't familiar with West's writing before Shrill, and I quite enjoyed this book. However, if you only have room for one contemporary feminist memoir on your reading list, I would start with Roxane Gay's Bad Feminist (2014).
It is a truth universally acknowledged that I love the writing of JK Rowling, especially the wizarding world of Harry Potter. However my last journey into this world was rather disappointing as I found Harry Potter and the Cursed Child(2016), the play based on a story by Rowling, to be seriously lacking.
But then along came Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Rowling's screenplay of the latest film in the franchise. I saw the movie first, which I absolutely loved, and then quickly went on to read the screenplay.
Set in New York in the 1920s, British Magizoologist Newt Scamander arrives at Ellis Island with a case filled with his fantastic beasts. Some of his creatures escape from the case and Newt has to round them up before they wreak havoc and are seen by muggles (called 'no-maj' in America). Along the way Newt befriends no-maj baker Jacob, is taken to the Magical Congress by Tina, a witch trying to advance her career. There is also a temperance movement on the rise, attempting to quash any difference and encourage segregation. The story is entertaining but has a strong political backbone.
The movie was wonderful. Eddie Redmayne was delightful as Newt, Colin Farrell is mysterious as Auror Percival Graves, Ezra Miller plays Credence, a teenaged orphan wanting to fit in, and Katherine Waterston as the hotdog eating Tina. My favourites were Dan Fogler's Jacob and Allison Sudol as telepathic Queenie. The special effects were great and the set and costumes captured the period well. This is the first in a multi-film franchise so I look forward to seeing them all.
Reading the screenplay after seeing the film was interesting. I had expected there to be more in the screenplay - scenes that ended up on the cutting room floor or on the DVD extras. But it was more of a transcript of what happened on film, almost as if it was written after the fact. That was a bit disappointing as I thought I might learn more of Newt's world than was shown on screen.
I should also note what a beautiful book the hardcover screenplay is. Filled with illustrations and sketches, it is a gorgeous package. I would recommend the screenplay, but suggest you see the film first.
The Stella Prize winner was announced this week with the award going to Tasmanian author Heather Rose for her novel The Museum of Modern Love.
Rose sets her novel in 2010 in New York at the Museum of Modern Art. MOMA is hosting an event in which artist Marina Abramovic sits opposite attendees and holds their gaze. She calls her piece The Artist is Presentand for 75 days people come to sit with this artist. The novel focuses on the lives of those who attend the exhibition.
Lauded for its originality and the way in which real events are merged with fiction, the novel focuses on the lives of characters struggling with deep questions.
Heather Rose gave a wonderful acceptance speech upon receiving the prize and the transcript is well worth reading.
I will be changing jobs in the next few weeks, so I have been keen to work my way through some of the books that I have purchased for my employer's library before I go. One recent acquisition is Dr Carol S Dweck's book Mindset (2006, revised 2017).
Dr Dweck is a world-renowned psychologist from Stanford University. She has spent much of her life researching success and failure, and the way our mindset is linked with our potential. She has found that there are essentially two mindsets - fixed or growth - and the mindset in which we approach our life can have a profound effect on how we progress.
A fixed mindset is one in which intelligence, talent and abilities are fixed - you either have it or you don't. This mindset leads one to view success and failure through a narrow lens. Challenges are avoided, effort is a waste of time, the success of others is a threat.
A growth mindset is one in which intelligence, talent and abilities can be developed. Learning is valued and the process is just as important as the outcome. Challenges are embraced, mistakes are learned from, effort leads to mastery and there is a sense of free will.
Dweck looks at mindset through exploring the stories of athletes, artists, students, parents, employers and others. She shows the limitations of a fixed mindset and the advantages of growth. Dweck shows that most of us have both mindsets - for example, we may believe that we can learn to do most things, except that artistic talent is something you either have or you don't.
Her main message is 'the view you adopt of yourself profoundly affects the way you lead your life'. I found this book enlightening, as I am generally one with a growth mindset, but have had periods where I have become fixed. Not only does Dweck identify these mindsets but she provides a pathway for change.
This book made me think a lot about how I give and receive feedback, praise children for their achievements, communicate with those close to me. I would recommend Mindset to parents, managers, coaches, those wanting to develop themselves and anyone involved in developing others.
Dr Dweck also gave an interesting Ted Talk on this subject which can be viewed below.
The Pulitzer Prize Winners and Finalists were announced this week. The Pulitzer Prize recognises achievement in journalism and other written works.
The winner of the fiction prize is Coulson Whitehead for his book The Underground Railway (2016). This is the story of Cora, a slave in Georgia, who attempts to escape through the underground railroad to the North.
This novel has previously been awarded the National Book Award, made many top ten lists, and was chosen by Oprah Winfrey as a selection for her popular book club. I have heard great things about this novel and look forward to reading it. Whitehead will be speaking at the Sydney Writers Festival next month, which I will miss this year due to my travels.
Finalists for the prize this year were Adam Haslet's Imagine Me Gone (2016) and C E Morgan for The Sport of Kings (2016).
The winner of the non-fiction award is Matthew Desmond for Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City (2016). Desmond explores poverty in the poorest areas of Milwaukee, and the landlords that control the fate of their tenants. Eviction has become a regular occurrence for renters. Using personal stories and data, Desmond looks at poverty cycles and housing issues.
Finalists in this category were John Donvan and Caren Zuker for In a Different Key: The Story of Autism (2016) and Micki McElya for The Politics of Mourning: Death and Honor in Arlington National Cemetery (2016).
In 2013 I read Hannah Kent's debut novel Burial Rites, a fictional account of the true historical case of an Icelandic woman sentenced to death for her part in a murder. It was a gripping masterpiece, well researched and written.
Like many other Kent fans, I have been eagerly awaiting her next foray into fiction. In late 2016 she published her second novel, The Good People. Set in 1820s Ireland, the story centres on a remote Killarney village where the locals are aware of the "Good People" - the mischievous fairies that reside near by. Initially, the idea of a novel based on folklore and fairies did not interest me, so I put it aside for a few months before deciding to crack the spine. However, once I entered Kent's world I was deeply engrossed by this compelling tale.
Nora Leahy has recently been widowed and in her grief she finds it even more challenging to care for her grandson Michael. The four year old boy is unable to walk or speak due to some mysterious malady that suddenly beset him at age two. Nora hires Mary, a teenaged girl from out of town, to assist with the care of the child. Nora also seeks support from the local doctor and the priest, both of whom offer prayers as the only option for the boy.
Nance Roche is an elderly woman who lives on the edge of the fairy forest. She knows the fairy ways and with local herbs and potions she can cure many ills. Many locals come to her for treatment of aches and pains, although the priest is convinced she does the devil's work and others view her with suspicion. Nora seeks out Nance's help to cure the boy as she becomes convinced he is a changeling, and that the fairies have her real Michael.
The inspiration for this book, as with Burial Rites, was a real life case. The author vividly creates a village of poor, uneducated, superstitious locals. The three women - Nance, Nora and Mary - are well crafted and you can feel their desperation to cure the boy. Kent's description of the environment, the flora and weather, transports the reader back in time.
I recommend this book highly to anyone wanting to lose themselves in another time and place. It would be a great read for book clubs as there are so many things to discuss.
It would come as no surprise to anyone that I am more than a little obsessed with Star Wars. My brother and I grew up with the characters, would act out scenes verbatim, and spent many Halloweens dressed as Vader, Yoda, and the gang. Princess Leia Organa has always been my hero and I admired her qualities: she is smart, sassy, and driven. A Princess who didn't need to be rescued. A General who motivates and maintains the Resistance. A role model for girls and women everywhere.
When Carrie Fisher passed away suddenly in December 2016, I mourned her greatly.
Fortunately she has left behind her work. While she is most known as an actor, Fisher is also a writer. Her latest book, The Princess Diarist (2016), is based on the journals she kept while making the original film in London in 1976. Carrie Fisher was only nineteen at the time and one of few women on the set. She and (married-with-children) Harrison Ford had a brief affair which is documented in these diaries.
But "Carrison" is no tale of romance. This is a much older man, aloof, uncommunicative and disinterested, engaged in a relationship with a young, inexperienced, naive woman. She wants more from him, imagining a life they may have, while he knows it will only last as long as the three-month shoot does.
The first part of the book is about Fisher gaining the role - auditioning, choosing the "Buns of Navarone" hairdo, her relationship with famous parents Eddie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds. Fisher is self-depreciating, witty and open.
The second part is an extract from the diaries. I was impressed by the poetry Fisher had written - aching, raw, humourous - about Ford, and surprised there was so much of it. I had expected more set anecdotes and insight into the filming, but clearly she was obsessed with Ford and could write of nothing else.
The last third of the book was a bit disappointing. She recounts various encounters with fans, and bemoans their love of Leia and unwillingness to see Carrie beneath. She begrudges the lack of money she earned from Star Wars (having signed away merchandising rights) and the humiliation of having to show up and sign autographs at fan festivals. She writes this section from the present, aged sixty, reflecting on her past and the character that has set the trajectory for her life.
I must admit that I read this book with twinges of sadness. There were moments where she talks of her legacy and what people will think after she is gone. I will remember her as Leia of course, but she is forever Carrie - a wonderfully complex, wise and witty woman, a talented writer and a tireless campaigner for mental health.
Do you ever get the feeling that you should enjoy a book more than you do? That you know that the book is important, a bestseller, widely regarded, critically acclaimed, but you just don't get it? Do you struggle along nonetheless confused as to why it just doesn't gel with you?
This happened to me while reading Ta-Nehisi Coates' Between the World and Me (2015). I didn't enjoy it, but I was determined to finish, hoping that I would suddenly find myself engrossed. While this never happened for me, I do appreciate the beauty of Coates' writing and the passion with which he expresses himself.
This National Book Award Winner is essentially a series of essays written to Coates' teenaged son. In these essays he writes about race in America and how history has shaped the way in which African Americans are seen and how they see themselves. There are parallels to James Baldwin's The Fire Next Time (1962) and Baldwin's writings more broadly.
Coates' poetic letter to his son is timely. In the wake of countless shootings of black youth, uprisings across America in response to police violence, and the Black Lives Matter campaign, he presents a thoughtful critique. He shares what it was like to grow up on the streets of Baltimore, to attend Howard University, and to witness violence - particularly the murder, by police, of his friend Prince Jones.
I am not the target market for this book. It is not written to me or for me. But I am interested in issues of race, class and gender and I hoped that reading this book would provide insight into race in modern America and a way forward. Instead I found it rather pessimistic, as if America is on a path that cannot be changed.
