Saturday, 22 March 2025

Leviathan - Paul Auster (1992)

 

Rating: Excellent

I'd long wanted to read a Paul Auster novel, having seen his books on shelves for many years, without really knowing that much about him, other than he seemed to be a typical 'New York' writer. That phrase could be taken as a compliment, or a put down, in Autser's case it's definitely a compliment, as Leviathan is a cut above the typical narratives about kooky New Yorkers getting into scrapes. The critical opinion of Auster is that he was a significant post-modern author, using multilayered narratives, and typically exploring themes of identity, chance, the nature of truth and identity. His childhood directly influenced his writing, having witnessed a lightening strike that killed a teenager while they were on a school camp, Auster became obsessed with the role of chance in life. Leviathan explores chance through the lives of various characters, most notably the friends, Peter Aaron and Benjamin Sachs, who are both writers (Auster's protagonists are typically writers apparently). Chance events and chance meetings with other characters drives Sachs to take some radical directions in his life, all told from the perspective of the narrator, his friend Aaron. Sachs struggles with self-worth and the nature of purpose, and being a novelist ends up being viewed by him as a trite manner in which to engage with the world, instead Sachs takes a more radical path. Sachs' journey is compelling, maddening and, ultimately, tragic. 

Auster, contemplating the nature of chance

Auster's writing is dense, layered and full of tension and mystery, which makes for compelling reading. This novel really gets under your skin, you begin to live it. The unravelling of the mystery of just how Sachs ends up at the point of his ultimate fate is engaging and fascinating. Auster could really write believable and complex characters, including the female characters, such as Sachs wife, Fanny, who is also a romantic interest for Aaron. Another brilliant female character is Maria Turner, a photographer who is based on French conceptual artist, Sophie Calle. Turner is the fulcrum around which the other characters move through the complex plot, in particular Sachs, who is strongly influenced by Turner's experiments with art, chance and lifestyle. Aaron's narrative voice draws in the reader, like a story-teller around a camp fire, you want to stay with him and be pulled further into the story (or even the fire). The plotting is circular in nature, with Sachs' fate revealed at the beginning, and the path that led him there is then fleshed out by Aaron's musings and investigations. It's like a detective story with political and cultural leanings, piecing together fragments of the complex life of Sachs and his search for meaning within the context of America and its place in the world. The novel's title is a direct reference to Thomas Hobbes exploration of society and the nature of government, Leviathan (1651); some familiarity with its themes would help decipher Auster's Leviathan, although it's not essential. Appropriately the novel begins with a dedication to DonDello, one of the twentieth century's greatest writers, who is also another 'New York' writer who transcends that label. Auster and DeLillo were friends, but on the evidence of this novel, they were certainly also equals. It's such a pity that Auster passed away in 2024, but at least there's his rich body of work, of which I'll be reading more of in the coming years, and so should you.

Monday, 3 March 2025

Childhood's End - Arthur C. Clarke (1953)

 

Rating: Excellent

It's been some twenty five years since I last read Arthur C. Clarke's work. As a teenager and beyond I must have read at least a dozen of his novels, but I never got around to reading Childhood's End. Somehow I even missed out on encountering any hint regarding its plot or themes, and for that I am grateful. It has long been regarded as a true science fiction masterpiece, despite many of its tropes becoming science fiction cliches in the ensuing decades. Essentially an alien invasion narrative, Childhood's End begins with the space race, but not that one, instead it begins with an opening chapter that Clarke rewrote in 1990, replacing a competitive cold war race to land on the moon, with a united effort to reach Mars in the twenty-first century; until it is interrupted by the arrival of massive alien spacecraft that hover over the major cities of the world. Sounds familiar? Such a scenario has been played out countless times, particularly in the TV series V (1983, 1984-85) and the godawful movie, Independence Day (1996). Fortunately Clarke's approach is far more subtle, intelligent, philosophical and powerful. The aliens remain hidden for the first third of the novel, instead they direct humanity from behind the scenes into a utopian age in which all suffering ceases and world peace endures. I'd forgotten just how good Clarke's writing was, he was certainly stylistically sound, but more significantly he really knew how to build suspense and create an expectation that the secrets that are bubbling away under the surface would be worth the wait. This is exactly how it played out for me, not knowing the true nature of the aliens, dubbed the 'Overlords' by humanity, the reveal that arrives a third of the way through the novel was impactful and satisfying. 

Arthur C. Clarke - master of suspense

Childhood's End contains themes that Clarke would explore later in his career, but here the notion of a transcendent higher power comes with definite uncertainty as to just how benevolent it really is, unlike 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), in which there seems to be a no stings attached evolutionary assist from higher powers. The Overlords themselves appear consistently benevolent throughout, however Clarke gives subtle hints as to what is really going on throughout the novel. When an Overlord known as Rashaverak attends a party at the residence of a man called Rupert Boyce and is found to be perusing his large collection of books on the paranormal, you can't help but be intrigued as to what is really going on. Clarke takes his time to let the reader in on the secret, something some modern readers can get impatient about, perhaps confirmed by some of the comments on Goodreads, with a couple of readers remarking that the novel is "tedious to get through". Actually the novel is perfectly paced, with the reveals regarding the Overlord's planet of origin, their ultimate role in Earth's fate and the nature of that fate itself, coming as well timed rewards for a little bit of patience. Childhood's End is an almost perfect science fiction novel and is rightly regarded as Clarke's best, it was also the moment when Clarke broke through as a novelist, both critically and commercially. On completion I was left with feelings of both wonder, and a nameless dread. Despite the unscientific paranormal elements Clarke utilises in the novel, the hard science aspects are sound, and given what we now know about the nature of the universe (that most of what is going on in the cosmos is a total mystery), the notion that we could at some stage be ultimately confronted by the shocking truth of the true nature of existence is not beyond the realms of possibility. 

Sunday, 9 February 2025

Stoner - John Williams (1965)

 

Rating: Sublime

Stoner is not the greatest novel ever written, but it is known as the most perfect novel ever written. Williams was an academic and writer who lived a flawed life, published four novels in his lifetime, before dying relatively unknown in 1994. Aside from a few glowing reviews in 1965, Stoner was mostly ignored until the 2000s, when it was republished multiple times. When it was subsequently translated into French it started to sell prolifically in Europe and then became highly regarded by critics, numerous writers and lovers of literary fiction. Set between the early 1900's and the 1950's, it tells the story of a life, that of William Stoner, the son of simple farmers who send him to university to study the latest agricultural techniques in order to take over the farm and make it profitable. Instead Stoner falls in love with English Literature whilst doing a compulsory literature unit. He subsequently begins a lifetime of studying and teaching the subject at the University of Missouri. Stoner is a quiet, shy and thoughtful individual, who finds his place in the world within the confines of university life. It is one of the great university novels, but ultimately it is a novel about stoicism, within work-life and home-life. Stoner marries Edith Bostwick, and immediately it is an unhappy union. Within their marriage Williams explores human psychology at its deepest levels without once examining why the characters behave in the way that they do; Edith is damaged by her parents and she suffers from what looks like post-natal depression, however these are just things that Stoner endures with grim determination. Stoner suffers through poisonous rivalry from the likes of fellow academic, Hollis Lomax, a bitter and cynical cripple who becomes determined to undermine Stoner until the bitter end. Stoner's relationship with his daughter is ruined by Edith and his only chance at romantic happiness is destroyed by convention and the scheming of Lomax. 

So, why is Stoner the perfect novel? Firstly, I must point out that, although the notion of a perfect novel is somewhat problematic, Stoner really is the perfect novel, in my experience at least. Williams' prose is faultless, wasting not a word, a scene or a piece of dialogue, as he tells Stoner's story of sad stoicism. The prose is often exquisitely beautiful, particularly when Stoner is musing over his life, walking the university grounds, or simply sitting at his desk, looking out the window into the somber snow-covered landscape. There are moments of mystical insight and emotional clarity that are almost Zen-like in their poise. All of the characters are totally alive, fully formed and real within the minds eye. The reader can't help but be intensely emotionally involved, as if you are living along-side Stoner, Edith and Katherine Driscoll, Stoner's romantic interest. Stoner's life proceeds in a liner narrative, with no experimental fragmenting of time or perspective, and it is all the more fresher for it, in particular after the dominance of fragmented fiction in the twenty-first century. Despite Stoner's sad and difficult life his story really is beautiful and uplifting, one cannot help but be touched by his struggles and his determination. The end is just as tragic as you'd imagine, however he discovers a deep existential satisfaction to his life, and in this sense Stoner can be seen as an existential novel. Stoner does not go to church, does not turn to God to help in his moments of need, instead he finds meaning in his love of teaching and within the beauty of literature. It's a story for us all, a universal thematic examination of what it means to live a life and to be satisfied in the end despite it all. Along the way Williams provides us with one of the most sublime narratives ever written, it's that good. Whatever you do in life, make sure you read Stoner, it's a masterpiece. 

Saturday, 25 January 2025

Annihilation - Michel Houellebecq (2022, English translation, 2024)

 

Rating: Excellent

I first read Houellebecq way back in the early twenty-first century, when I discovered his novel Atomised (1998) at an airport bookstore and read it on my holiday; not exactly holiday reading, but it was compelling nonetheless. Bleakly existential and darkly funny, it was also very sexy, and also, like the first time I read Murakimi (Dance Dance Dance, 1994), so startlingly fresh that I couldn't help but became an instant fan. Annihilation still contains elements of the in your face controversy and freshness of Houellebecq's earlier work, but here it is somewhat toned down, resulting in a work that comes across as serious, adult writing, focussing on universal Existential themes of what it is to be human. Annihilation reminds me of John Fowles writing, in particular his novel Daniel Martin (1977), both in terms of quality and thematic complexity. Annihilation has three main narrative strands, one focusing on the principal protagonist, Paul Raison and his family life, the second dealing with a terrorist group that posts gnomic videos and messages online, and the third dealing with the mysterious workings of French politics. All three are interrelated, with Raison working as an advisor to the French minister of finance, Bruno Juge. Juge is one of the targets of the terrorist group, who depict him as being decapitated with a guillotine in a disturbing deepfake video. Raison has personal problems related to his ailing father, his siblings and his fading marriage to his wife Prudence (she's revealed to be a vegan, a pagan and the owner of at least three pairs of hot-pants). It's an unusual blend of themes, but Houellebecq makes it work and the novel is oddly compelling, despite the prose sometimes coming across as rather flat, which may be a stylistic choice unto itself, or the translation.

Within the scope of Raison's family life Houellebecq explores the problematic moral and practical concerns of the care given to the aged and infirm, with his retired father having suffered a major stroke that leaves him paralysed. Houellebecq critiques the West's flawed attitudes to age and death, both in terms of how the State deals with it, and how individuals deal with it within the West's spiritual and religious vacuum. Raison's sister, Cecile, is a Christian, and her beliefs and coping mechanisms are used to highlight the opposing secular attitudes of her brother (in the end, Christianity is shown as not really being of much use...). Raison's relationship with his wife is at the heart of some of the novel's most positive and heartwarming moments. Houellebecq, it seems, is fully prepared to explore redemption within a romantic relationship, which, given what usually happens in his other novels, comes as somewhat of a shock. Indeed, the terms positive and heartwarming would not have been used in any reviews as descriptors of his previous work. But within the novel's narrative framework it works well and you can't help but be happy for the married couple, although, of course they are eventually confronted with some of life's most bleakest and inevitable outcomes. Paul and Prudence's relationship also contains some of Houellebecq's trademark sexual frankness, with Prudence being described in one extended scene as being almost permanently up for it, while also administering sexual favours that last for hours. It almost makes one long to be married. Meanwhile the matter of the terrorists is not fully resolved, which surprised me, but perhaps it is just like the other events in the novel, both the personal and the political - just another thing that happens in the black theatre of life, running along in the background, oblivious to the triumphs and tragedies of human life. Annihilation of one of Houellebecq's most satisfying and fascinating novels', if you are new to his writing it is perhaps best to start elsewhere, but ultimately it stands as one of his best.

Sunday, 5 January 2025

Fifty Two Weeks - 2024 in Literary Terms

 

The sun sets on 2024, Morley, Dec 31st

The past year has been extremely busy, in a way that has led to nearly all of my books being packed in boxes and stacked in the corner of a room in my wife's house. Across the year we did all of the background planning to build a new house at my property, which took up a great deal of time and mental space, and then I moved house, with all that that entails. As a consequence my reading was curtailed, but I still managed to get through some tomes, both brilliant and mediocre. The best was undoubtably the Javier Marias novel, Tomas Nevinson (2021). Marias was an exemplary literary figure, regarded as Spain's greatest modern writer, it's a pity he passed away during the pandemic. Tomas Nevinson was also a book club read, and so was definitely the best book club novel of the year, followed by Table for Two by Amor Towles (2024). The worst book club book and also the worst overall read of the year was definitely The Anniversary by Stephanie Bishop (2023), although it was still a long way from the worst novel I've ever read, the execrable The Finkler Question by Howard Jacobson (2010), it makes me shudder just thinking about it!

Some of my books, before being imprisoned in boxes

Honourable mentions go to the very entertaining In the Approaches by Nicola Barker (2014), I really must explore more of her work, and The In-Between by Christos Tsiolkas (2023), which was also the best book I read by an Australian author. Overall the reading year was quite an interesting mix, during which I tackled Dostoevsky, which almost defeated me, but I got through in the end by sheer bloody-mindedness, it's rare that I give up on a novel in any case. I also finally got around to reading some of the music books I have laying around, the best being Bee Gees: Children of the World by Bob Stanley (2023). The Bee Gees were a much better musical proposition than many people remember and their story is fascinating. On that (musical) note, I'm taking a vow to read more in 2025, particularly as all of the books I can't help but buy are piling up. I'm justified in buying all these new books, as my main collection is boxed up for the next year, but then really who needs such excuses?

Tuesday, 31 December 2024

Table for Two - Amor Towles (2024)

 

Rating: Excellent

The Subiaco Library Book Club ended 2024 on a high with this fine collection of six short stories and one novella. Since emerging in 2011 with the successful novel, Rules of Civility, which was written across twenty years on weekends as Towles worked in investment banking, he has become one the era's most successful novelists. Table for Two has a direct connection with Rules of Civility, revisiting the character of Evelyn Ross, who, by the end of that novel had endured a car accident, the end of an engagement and had diverted her trip home to end up in Los Angeles. The novella Eve in Hollywood follows her adventures in late 1930s Hollywood, where she befriends actress Olivia de Havilland and, with the help of assorted characters, helps fend off those that would do her harm. The novella encompasses half of Table for Two and reads like a homage, but not a satire of, noir crime novels from that era. It is a fine novella, however it is slightly over-plotted and suffers in comparison with the six short stories that proceed it, which are beautifully written and succinct. Eve in Hollywood is well worth reading, but the short stories, which are among the finest I've ever read, are at the heart of this collection.

The short stories, grouped under the heading, New York, begin with The Line, set during the Communist Revolution in Russia circa 1917, with a married couple journeying from their farm to the heart of the revolution in Moscow. It's a clever story of finding one's place in the scheme of things by adapting in ways that are counter to the prevailing politic environment. The Line is funny and very clever, and, like many of these stories, dovetails nicely to a conclusion that brings delight. The Ballad of Timothy Touchett is perhaps my favourite. Touchett is young struggling writer who is befriended by an older gentlemen in the library, whilst he is practicing the signatures of some of history's greatest writers. The gentleman offers him a job in his book shop, which is filled with first editions, and Touchett is soon put to work forging signatures of long dead authors for profit, but it is the authors who still live that you need to watch out for. Once again the writing is humorous and very clever. Towles' prose is elegant and spacious, uncluttered of extranious detail, allowing the narrative to flow beautifully to its natural conclusion. All of the short stories have this in common, with many of them containing subtle irony and emotional poignancy. The characters are fully realised, even the ones who are described in just a few sentences, and scenes are acutely visual in their descriptive power. Table for Two really is a masterclass in short form writing and Towles' prose is literary fiction that elevates popular fiction to where it should be, quality but pleasurable reading.

Monday, 18 November 2024

The Anniversary - Stephanie Bishop (2023)

Rating: Mediocre

Even though I finished The Anniversary only two weeks ago I've had to look it up to remind myself what it was about and what happened across its interminable length. I'm finding it difficult to even write this review, such is my antipathy toward the novel. In any case, here I go: JB Blackwood, a novelist, and her famous filmmaker husband, Patrick, twenty years her senior, embark on a cruise in order to rekindle their relationship. There's much more to it, of course, taking in such weighty themes as the nature of narrative, which is often fragmentary and opaque (as the novel keeps reminding you) and the power imbalance that can exist between men and women, especially in the creative field, and, of course, the mysterious nature of marriage. It turns out that Patrick was JB's tutor (what a surprise!) and JB's rather naive crush turns into a marriage in which both fuel the other's artistic endeavours, until it all comes to an end on the cruise to celebrate the couple's anniversary (hence the title...). The story is told strictly from JB's perspective in a very claustrophobic first person style, with no direct dialogue, rather JB informs the reader what other characters are saying and doing. JB's perspective totally dominates, which is part of the thematic point of the novel. It doesn't take long to suspect that JB is an unreliable narrator and that the reader is only privy to a skewed and distorted version of events, both in the present and the past.

Marketed both as a mystery and a thriller, The Anniversary is neither. JB's musings have a soporific effect on the mind and body, as she endlessly ponders her past, her marriage, the publishing industry and most of all, the loss of Patrick, who has 'mysteriously' fallen overboard during a storm off the coast of Japan. Unfortunately there's no mystery about it, as it is obvious that JB herself was directly involved. It's hard to be sympathetic toward her, she is a distinctly unlikable character. For a novel to really have emotional resonance it needs to make you care about what happens to the principal protagonist, however I didn't care at all about JB's predicament; her struggle to get through the demands of an author tour right after the death of her husband, her traumatic childhood due to her mother's disappearance, and her attempts to outrun her part in Patrick's death. The novel slumps badly during a lengthy middle part in which JB stays with her sister's family in Australia, which very obviously explores the dysfunctions that lay at the heart of her wider family. The Anniversary does have something going for it, it is easy to read, but unfortunately it reveals itself to be one of those popular fiction novels masquerading as literary fiction. There's lots of them out there and perhaps that's what the novel is being compared against, surely this is why it was long listed for The Stella Prize? The Anniversary was a book club read and I have to report that it is one of the worst received novels in the near twenty year history of the Subiaco Library Book Club. I ask members to rate the novel out of ten at the end of each session and ninety percent of the ratings fell below five. No mercy was shown toward the novel by the members, making my comments in this review seem tame in comparison. Enough said!