How could I go wrong with this one? I have read it many times, but did so this time with the hope of finding something new. Well, Long John Silver is nothing like Robert Newton, but he is a powerful and dangerous man. Captain Smollett was very much a cipher when I read the book before, but he emerges as an uncelebrated hero. Even the terrible old blowhard buccanneer, Billy Bones, has an extra dimension on the umpteenth re-reading, singing a wistful song about a lost love on one occasion, a sort of an interlude between his innumerable terrible sea shanties.
The book has everything, excellent pacing, strong characters, a great story line (even if it is the zillionth version of the well-worn quest theme) and an idyllic setting. Who would not be Jim Hawkins? I can't find anything bad to say about it.
10 out of 10
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
White Teeth by Zadie Smith
This one took me ages to finish, but the effort was, for the most part, well rewarded.
Two families, three generations, destinies interlocked for over fifty years. The characters stay with you - the fanatical Hortense, the urbane Magid, his twin, the delinquent and then fanatical Millat, the ridiculous Joyce Chalfen, her husband the impractical but brilliant biogeneticist Marcus, the mutilated and ancestor-worshipping, backward looking Samad Iqbal - and there are sections where there is a laugh on every page. The very young author has been compared to Dickens, and the comparison is a fair one, with her gift for characterisation and ear for idiosyncratic dialogue. The characters, among other things, symbolise a clash of cultures, a conflict between fundamentalism and science and ways old and new.
The climax of the novel - well, actually, the confluence of events at the end, was a bit confusing and I think I must have missed something, which is why the book doesn't get a higher score. But if you want something with unforgettable characters, and laugh out loud, omnisicient comments on every page, this one is for you.
Rating: 7 out of 10.
Two families, three generations, destinies interlocked for over fifty years. The characters stay with you - the fanatical Hortense, the urbane Magid, his twin, the delinquent and then fanatical Millat, the ridiculous Joyce Chalfen, her husband the impractical but brilliant biogeneticist Marcus, the mutilated and ancestor-worshipping, backward looking Samad Iqbal - and there are sections where there is a laugh on every page. The very young author has been compared to Dickens, and the comparison is a fair one, with her gift for characterisation and ear for idiosyncratic dialogue. The characters, among other things, symbolise a clash of cultures, a conflict between fundamentalism and science and ways old and new.
The climax of the novel - well, actually, the confluence of events at the end, was a bit confusing and I think I must have missed something, which is why the book doesn't get a higher score. But if you want something with unforgettable characters, and laugh out loud, omnisicient comments on every page, this one is for you.
Rating: 7 out of 10.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
At The Mountains of Madness by H P Lovecraft
This novella is a strange one. An expedition into the Antarctic chances upon upon a mountain range, 'unfathomed mountains of madness' higher than any previously known, where there is evidence of a civilisation between five hundred and a thousand million years old, populated by life forms that 'evolved and specialised not more than a thousand years ago' before the evolution of any life on earth as we know it. Creatures with heads shaped like starfish and bulbous necks and torsos who probably had more than the usual five senses were the dominant life form, and in the antique city 'there was a persistent, pervasive hint of stupendous secrecy and potential revelation. It was as if these stark, nightmare spires marked the pylons of a frightful gateway into forbidden spheres of dream, and complex gulfs of remote time, space, and ultra-dimensionality.' Among other things encountered by the hapless explorers are giant albino, eyeless penguins. If the depths of his imagination is any indication, any psychiatrist or psychologist would have had fun with Lovecraft.
Lovecraft's prose style is pretty well known and there are several trademarks. He is a purveyor of vague phrases ('distant bergs became the battlements of unimaginable cosmic castles': 'the words reaching the reader can never even suggest the awfulness of the sight itself'). On occasion the words are so overwrought, they seem devoid of meaning.He refers to 'the sheer appalling antiquity and lethal desolation of the place', which happens to be 'the blasphemous city of the mirage in stark objective and ineluctable reality.' Some of his phrases are almost risible. One does wonder what is actually contained, for example, in 'the frightful stone city of R'lyeh and all the cosmic octopi.' But often his phrases are beautiful: 'Distant mountains floated in the sky as enchanted cities, and often the whole white world would dissolve into a gold, silver and scarlet land of Dunsanian dreams .... [the earth and the sky had a tendency] to merge into one mystical opalescent void.'
He does spin a good yarn, too. In an era where we are certainly not conditioned to rely on the written word to stretch our imaginations - special effects in movies do it for us without us having to make much of an effort - it is sometimes hard to be too scared or stimulated by someone who uses generic words so much ('hideous' and 'appalling' get pretty good runs.) But he keeps things moving, and it is a relatively quick read. While the style might seem more appropriate for another age, the depths and breadths of one man's imagination are well worth experiencing.
7 out of 10
Lovecraft's prose style is pretty well known and there are several trademarks. He is a purveyor of vague phrases ('distant bergs became the battlements of unimaginable cosmic castles': 'the words reaching the reader can never even suggest the awfulness of the sight itself'). On occasion the words are so overwrought, they seem devoid of meaning.He refers to 'the sheer appalling antiquity and lethal desolation of the place', which happens to be 'the blasphemous city of the mirage in stark objective and ineluctable reality.' Some of his phrases are almost risible. One does wonder what is actually contained, for example, in 'the frightful stone city of R'lyeh and all the cosmic octopi.' But often his phrases are beautiful: 'Distant mountains floated in the sky as enchanted cities, and often the whole white world would dissolve into a gold, silver and scarlet land of Dunsanian dreams .... [the earth and the sky had a tendency] to merge into one mystical opalescent void.'
He does spin a good yarn, too. In an era where we are certainly not conditioned to rely on the written word to stretch our imaginations - special effects in movies do it for us without us having to make much of an effort - it is sometimes hard to be too scared or stimulated by someone who uses generic words so much ('hideous' and 'appalling' get pretty good runs.) But he keeps things moving, and it is a relatively quick read. While the style might seem more appropriate for another age, the depths and breadths of one man's imagination are well worth experiencing.
7 out of 10
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
I had not read this one since 1969. I remembered that it bristled with symbolism, but had forgotten some of the details, such as the very existence of the sadistic Roger, the real meaning behind the beast on the mountain, and the fact that the Hitler figure Jack was a choirboy in a former life. His first appearance as choirboy-cum-martinet, marching little boys who are in a distinctive but sinister uniform, their choir boy capes, is a memorable one.
This novel has been reviewed and analysed to death, so there is probably little that a layman can add. The concluding pages are still as jarring as ever, when the hideous spell of little boys at war with each other is broken by the arrival of the authority figure, the naval officer.
Points to ponder .... what was the fate of the little boy with the mulberry birthmark and what did he symbolise? Why do we never learn Piggy's real name? Why does Piggy divulge his hated nickname so early, or at all?
Golding's work, unsubtle, but very readable, stands as a depressing monument to the fallibility and frailty of the human condition. Recommended.
8 out of 10.
This novel has been reviewed and analysed to death, so there is probably little that a layman can add. The concluding pages are still as jarring as ever, when the hideous spell of little boys at war with each other is broken by the arrival of the authority figure, the naval officer.
Points to ponder .... what was the fate of the little boy with the mulberry birthmark and what did he symbolise? Why do we never learn Piggy's real name? Why does Piggy divulge his hated nickname so early, or at all?
Golding's work, unsubtle, but very readable, stands as a depressing monument to the fallibility and frailty of the human condition. Recommended.
8 out of 10.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Animal Farm by George Orwell
Everyone has read this one. I must admit that I took it on because it is short and sort of familiar and I wanted to get the runs on the board with this blog.
It was bleaker than what I remember it, and I almost shed tears at the removal of the dim but decent Boxer from the scene. I don't think it has dated at all. While Napoleon (there's a subtle hint for you) appears in the original to have been modelled on the long gone and almost as long discredited Stalin, so many others of his ilk, cruel and calculating people, bolstered by a cult of personality, often best nurtured by the intellectually weak, have appeared since Orwell completed this in 1944. Some of them have, mercifully, disappeared - Saddam, Ceaucescu, Tito (maybe he wasn't too bad), Hoxha, Kim Il Sung - but many remain and we will definitely see their like again. And like Benjamin the donkey, for the majority of us, nothing gets significantly better or worse no matter who is in power.
The work is subtitled A Fairy Story and there is an animated version, which I have not seen. In its raw form, though, it is not for kids. It is depressing and chilling. There are parallels in my native Australia with the differences between the once idealistic Australian Labor Party, who brought in genuinely progressive legislation aimed at bettering the lot of the worker, and the ruling business class diminishing year by year. Not a cheery thought, but then Orwell did not intend this to boost the spirits of anyone. And it didn't.
8 out of 10.
It was bleaker than what I remember it, and I almost shed tears at the removal of the dim but decent Boxer from the scene. I don't think it has dated at all. While Napoleon (there's a subtle hint for you) appears in the original to have been modelled on the long gone and almost as long discredited Stalin, so many others of his ilk, cruel and calculating people, bolstered by a cult of personality, often best nurtured by the intellectually weak, have appeared since Orwell completed this in 1944. Some of them have, mercifully, disappeared - Saddam, Ceaucescu, Tito (maybe he wasn't too bad), Hoxha, Kim Il Sung - but many remain and we will definitely see their like again. And like Benjamin the donkey, for the majority of us, nothing gets significantly better or worse no matter who is in power.
The work is subtitled A Fairy Story and there is an animated version, which I have not seen. In its raw form, though, it is not for kids. It is depressing and chilling. There are parallels in my native Australia with the differences between the once idealistic Australian Labor Party, who brought in genuinely progressive legislation aimed at bettering the lot of the worker, and the ruling business class diminishing year by year. Not a cheery thought, but then Orwell did not intend this to boost the spirits of anyone. And it didn't.
8 out of 10.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The Water Babies - Charles Kingsley
The last sentence of this book enjoins the reader - who the author addresses as 'my little man' throughout - 'you are not to believe any of this book, even if it is true.'
No one has ever written a book like this, and in some ways it is hard to believe that it is no longer available in print, in its entirety. On the other hand, it is filled with dated allusions - the last chapter refers to 'a certain new lunatic asylum' that the reader is obviously supposed to know about, for example. Moreover, there are disparaging references to Jews, Afro-Americans and, especially, Americans. At one point, something called a Powwow man appears, and this person 'dance[s] corrobory [sic] like any black fellow.' But I get ahead of myself.
The bald outline of the story is probably well enough known. A chimneysweep called Tom drowns (although this is never spelled out explicitly) and becomes something called a water baby, several inches long, that travels across land and sea for many years before he can be redeemed and become a man. His master, the aptly named Mr Grimes, a drunkard with little regard for the welfare of his charges, is similarly redeemed but only partially so, and the book leaves him sweeping the crater of Mt Etna, presumably an endless task.
On his way to rebirth, Tom meets all sorts of living creatures - a fairy with a photograph album filled with colour photos, unknown when the book was published, a sea dwelling creature obsessively possessive of the gold in its realm (yes, I thought of that too), talking turnips who were formerly children who studied too hard, a Buddhist bat, policeman's truncheons that can move by themselves without arms or legs and use their thongs for hanging themselves up. Tom travels across ground made of bad toffee, and oceans galore, and meets characters like Mother Carey, Mrs Doasyouwouldbedoneby, Mrs Bedonebyasyoudid, and the enchanting girl, Ellie, who eventually becomes his lifetime mate.
Comparisons with Alice in Wonderland and the work of Edward Lear are inevitable. This one is every bit as weird, I am sure, and even the obscure contemporary references are probably worth a Google if you have time. For those in search of something really different, this is highly recommended.
Rating: 8 out of 10.
No one has ever written a book like this, and in some ways it is hard to believe that it is no longer available in print, in its entirety. On the other hand, it is filled with dated allusions - the last chapter refers to 'a certain new lunatic asylum' that the reader is obviously supposed to know about, for example. Moreover, there are disparaging references to Jews, Afro-Americans and, especially, Americans. At one point, something called a Powwow man appears, and this person 'dance[s] corrobory [sic] like any black fellow.' But I get ahead of myself.
The bald outline of the story is probably well enough known. A chimneysweep called Tom drowns (although this is never spelled out explicitly) and becomes something called a water baby, several inches long, that travels across land and sea for many years before he can be redeemed and become a man. His master, the aptly named Mr Grimes, a drunkard with little regard for the welfare of his charges, is similarly redeemed but only partially so, and the book leaves him sweeping the crater of Mt Etna, presumably an endless task.
On his way to rebirth, Tom meets all sorts of living creatures - a fairy with a photograph album filled with colour photos, unknown when the book was published, a sea dwelling creature obsessively possessive of the gold in its realm (yes, I thought of that too), talking turnips who were formerly children who studied too hard, a Buddhist bat, policeman's truncheons that can move by themselves without arms or legs and use their thongs for hanging themselves up. Tom travels across ground made of bad toffee, and oceans galore, and meets characters like Mother Carey, Mrs Doasyouwouldbedoneby, Mrs Bedonebyasyoudid, and the enchanting girl, Ellie, who eventually becomes his lifetime mate.
Comparisons with Alice in Wonderland and the work of Edward Lear are inevitable. This one is every bit as weird, I am sure, and even the obscure contemporary references are probably worth a Google if you have time. For those in search of something really different, this is highly recommended.
Rating: 8 out of 10.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Falling Man by Don DeLillo
I know he is a stellar name, and I know that I will be in the minority on this one, and I really wanted the first reading experience of this exercise to be a positive one, but I just didn't get it.
Even though the book is comparatively short, I struggled to finish it - three weeks or so since I started, and it is only 246 pages! I really hoped that something centred around the most traumatic even of this young century thus far would stir my emotions. It didn't, except to annoy me that something that sounded so good could be so damned dull.
It is hard to know where to start, but among the problems were the dreary plotlines, uninteresting people, and the rage and frustration I felt the author's apparent reluctance to use proper names - pronouns just about all the way through, so it is near to impossible to know who is talking, who is being talked about, and who is doing what. The chronological jumping around didn't help with the clarity either. I felt rather a dullard not knowing what was going on until I realised that I didn't really care that much. Perhaps the purposeful vagueness had a point, but I must have missed it.
The only characters that were at all interesting were the terrorists, and the glimpses into their minds were profound on occasion. The last chapter, the one which describes the events inside the tower once the planes had hit, was another of the few highlights, and to actually have an interesting chapter as the last one made it doubly pleasurable for me to finish this volume.
My evaluation: 3 out of 10.
Even though the book is comparatively short, I struggled to finish it - three weeks or so since I started, and it is only 246 pages! I really hoped that something centred around the most traumatic even of this young century thus far would stir my emotions. It didn't, except to annoy me that something that sounded so good could be so damned dull.
It is hard to know where to start, but among the problems were the dreary plotlines, uninteresting people, and the rage and frustration I felt the author's apparent reluctance to use proper names - pronouns just about all the way through, so it is near to impossible to know who is talking, who is being talked about, and who is doing what. The chronological jumping around didn't help with the clarity either. I felt rather a dullard not knowing what was going on until I realised that I didn't really care that much. Perhaps the purposeful vagueness had a point, but I must have missed it.
The only characters that were at all interesting were the terrorists, and the glimpses into their minds were profound on occasion. The last chapter, the one which describes the events inside the tower once the planes had hit, was another of the few highlights, and to actually have an interesting chapter as the last one made it doubly pleasurable for me to finish this volume.
My evaluation: 3 out of 10.
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