Friday, 13 March 2026

The Black Album - Hanif Kureishi (1995)


Rating: Excellent

I've long been aware of Hanif Kureishi due to his association with David Bowie and the music he made as the soundtrack to the BBC adaptation of Kureishi's Buddha of Suburbia (1990). I've long had that novel sitting on my shelves, but I spied The Black Album at the fantastic second hand bookstore, Bella's Books, the kind of second hand book store that is crammed with books and goes on forever. I decided to read The Black Album now rather than sit on it for ages, and I'm pleased that I did. Published during the thick of an upsurge in youth culture in the mid nineties, Kureishi captures the beginnings of that era (1989) and expands on it by exploring ethnic identity in multicultural Britain, and religious tensions, in particular the fatwa on Salman Rushdie due to the publication of The Satanic Verses (1988). College student, Shahid Hasan, meets Riaz Al-Hussain on the first page, thus begins Shahid's entanglement with the forces of radicalisation that causes the somewhat youthfully naive Shahid to confront the cultural and religious forces swirling around him. Shahid is a convincing and compelling character, who is also a budding writer, which allows Kureishi to explore the literary struggles and pretensions of his craft, perhaps inspired by his own experiences studying at Bromley College of Technology in the 1970s. Shahid falls into a romantic relationship with one of his teachers, the inspirational Deedee Osgood, an older woman going through her own transitions. Their adventures together include taking ecstasy at raves and sex fuelled nights together whilst avoiding her politically principled semi-estranged husband. 

Bowie and Kureishi circa early 1990's

Shahid's life trajectory collides with his involvement with Riaz and his band of followers, including the intense former drug addict, Chad, who pull him into situations that are diametrically opposite to those with Osgood. In-between them stands Shahid's brother, Chilli, who is buckling under the pressures of being caught between the pleasures on offer in London and the demands of family life, of which he's trying to escape; he's a deeply flawed, yet sympathetic character. Kureishi cleverly uses Chilli's and Shahid's double lives to explore the tensions between the temptations of secular life in the heart of the decadent West and the supposedly pious life of religious extremism. The two worlds end up clashing towards the end of the novel in spectacular fashion. The novel is rich in both action and discourse, with multiple themes intertwining. The Black Album is sophisticated literary fiction that engages both the brain and the emotions. On the evidence of this novel Kureishi is a superb writer, different to Rushdie, whom is name-checked throughout the novel, yet definitely up in the same literary category as the author who famously suffered under the threat of the fatwa. Kureishi unfortunately has his own torments, having become a tetraplegic from a fall in Rome in 2022.  Fortunately he is still producing work, via the memoir, Shattered (2024), and recently he appeared in the latest Bowie documentary The Final Act (2025). I'll be definitely reading more of his work, and god speed Hanif Kureishi, I wish you well.

Sunday, 1 March 2026

Wild Dark Shore - Charlotte McConaghy (2025)



Rating: Admirable

Charlotte McConaghy is an established Australian writer, and Wild Dark Shore is her third novel. Although the novel could be defined as a thriller, it is essentially another contribution to the ever-growing climate change fiction genre (Cli-Fi). Set on a remote sub-Antarctic island between Tasmania and the Antarctic, called Shearwater (based on Macquarie Island) in what seems like a near future scenario in which sea levels are surging, the novel is a bleak and claustrophobic read. The Salt family are the only inhabitants left on the island after the researchers left on the last boat. The Salts are a damaged family unit, with single parent, Dominic (the strong, silent type), overseeing three teenagers, Raff, Orly and Fen, who improbably lives in a small shack near the thousands of seals and penguins on the rugged shoreline. It is Fen who pulls Rowen out of the water, injured and close to death after her boat is wrecked. Rowen is the mysterious stranger who creates tension among the Salt family and supplies the narrative drive at the heart of the novel. Shearwater is also the site of an important seed vault that is under threat from the rising waters. The island is due to be completely abandoned, and the seeds removed before it is taken by the ever-threatening waves. 

Wild Dark Shore was described as Gothic by one of my book club members. I’d definitely agree with that assessment, as it has many elements of the Gothic genre; a dark brooding setting, death, intense psychological states, grown men conversing with their long dead wives, teenagers muttering in underground spaces to the spirits of dead animals and a character who resembles the Selkies of Celtic myths, I could go on. It’s an intense novel all right, yet about halfway through I began to feel a certain level of indifference. I’m not completely sure why, the writing is vivid, the characters interesting enough and the environmental themes are resonant. Perhaps the novel’s over the top nature wore me down, in particular the romantic intensity between some of the characters became a bit much. McConaghy generates a great deal of genuine suspense throughout, and the mystery surrounding Rowan’s presence on the remote island is intriguing. The chapters are mostly short and told from the perspectives of Rowen and the Salt family (yes, the salt of the earth…), with the adults ruminating in first person and the children given the wider third person perspective. It’s a real emotional rollercoaster ride throughout. I have to conclude that Wild Dark Shore, whilst displaying a range of quality characteristics, simply just wasn’t for me. About half the book club members loved Wild Dark Shore, and the other half felt a similar level of indifference that I did. A worthy novel then, but perhaps not for everyone.