Sunday, 15 September 2019

Sailor Twain or The Mermaid in the Hudson - Mark Siegel (2012)

Rating: Excellent

I don't read many graphic novels, but when Sailor Twain was gifted to me from a friend who works in another library (it was a 'weeded' library discard...) and I was told that it was considered to be one of the classics of the genre I made a mental note to give it a read. A year later and with the need for something easy to read whilst on holiday Sailor Twain turned out to be a beguiling distraction. In the late 1800s Captain Twain sails on a large steam-ship ferrying pleasure-seeking passengers up and down the Hudson River. The ship's owner, Jacques - Henri de Lafayette, has gone missing and his brother, Diedonne, has taken his place. Twain has an uneasy relationship with the mysterious womanizing Diedonne, but becomes embroiled in his own secrets when he rescues an injured mermaid and hides her in his cabin. Their ensuing relationship becomes central to the narrative and also a rich source of poignancy. Twain is an engaging every-man character, whose kindheartedness leads him into the literal and psychologically murky waters (yes...) of the beautiful mermaid of the Hudson River.


Sailor Twain works so well because the narrative is complex, with intriguing characters and allusions to literature, culture, history and myth. The story is satisfying on many levels and features an ending that is both final and ambiguous, which is difficult to achieve. The artwork is darkly beautiful and is responsible for much of the narrative tension, with most panels featuring a deep level of detail, both with the characters themselves and the settings.


Sailor Twain encourages slow and careful reading, with the artwork drawing (yes...) you into the narrative in enticing ways. I also took my time because I was enjoying it so much that I didn't want it to end. Siegel has a way of illustrating characters that seems simple and yet captures their essence perfectly. The atmosphere is shadowy, it always seems to be raining and the mermaid and the river have an almost Gothic allure that is addictive. Most of all it made me wish that mermaids were real, and perhaps they are...






Tuesday, 10 September 2019

The Stochastic Man - Robert Silverberg (1975)

Rating: Excellent

Robert Silverberg is one of those science fiction writers who has seemingly been around forever (born in 1935), and is legendary for his prolific writing; he began submitting short stories to science fiction magazines when he was a teenager and apparently at certain stages in his career wrote over a million words a year. Fortunately Silverberg is also a quality writer and I read quite a few of his novels when I was a teenager, enjoying them immensely. The Stochastic Man happens to be the last novel Silverberg wrote before 'retiring' from writing in 1975, before returning in 1980. The novel is set in 1999 and features a protagonist, Lew Nicholas, who has 'stochastic' skills that allow him to hone in on statistically probable future events. Into Lew's life comes Martin Carvajal, a man who can actually see the future. Precognition is an almost irresistible premise to the average science fiction fan and fortunately in this case The Stochastic Man does not disappoint.

Despite the fact that much of the narrative is politically focused, with Lew using his future wrangling skills to try and help the Kennedy-like presidential aspirant Mayor Quinn, the novel is taut and compelling. The Stochastic Man is also a fascinating glimpse into what Silverberg thought the future might be like, in New York at least. In the mid 1970's when the novel was written New York was in decline and Silverberg extrapolates from there, placing a wealthy elite in security protected buildings whilst the rest take their chances on the mean streets. Drugs are legal and are just another consumer product, sexual mores are loose to the extent that open relationships are the norm, but perhaps the most prescient future event is revealed when Lew wonders why the host of a party has the window screens shut on one side of his apartment. Lew realises it is to block the view of the ruined Statue of Liberty, destroyed by a terrorist attack - wrong building and a few years too early, but it still sent a shiver down my spine regardless. The primary reason why The Stochastic Man works so well is the range of sympathetic characters, in particular Lew Nicholas, whose life radically alters in challenging ways when he meets Martin Carvajal, the sad-eyed "destroyed" individual, haunted by his visions of the future. One can't help but feel sorry for both characters, but the novel ends on an unlikely positive note that strangely made me feel a little better (but not for long...) about the current dysfunctional era we are living through, that it too will pass and better times may be ahead (but I doubt it...).



Friday, 30 August 2019

The Crying of Lot 49 - Thomas Pynchon (1966)

Rating: Admirable

Thomas Pynchon is perhaps the most famous cult author, not just because of his unorthodox work, but also because of his purported reclusiveness. Pynchon offers up a heady combination in the context of Western post-war culture where everything is viewed as being justifiably up for grabs. I'm kind of ashamed to admit it, but The Crying of Lot 49 is the first Pynchon novel I have ever read. I do have Gravity's Rainbow (1973) on my shelf, but opted for this novel because of its refreshing brevity. Unfortunately despite Pynchon's reputation I have been left underwhelmed and wondering whether the novel is a brilliantly complex post-modern puzzle or a now passe mundane indulgence (it is probably a bit of both). The novel's Wikipedia entry notes that The Crying of Lot 49 can be viewed as an example of post-modernism and perhaps also a satire of post-modernism itself, a technique that  ironically lies at the heart of post-modernism in any case. Reading the Wikipedia entry was, in some ways, more entertaining than the novel itself; perhaps this could become the new way to read novels, just read other people's interpretations, don't go to all the trouble of reading the actual novel itself, no need to ponder all the obscure cultural and historical references, the clever word-play and biting satire....

Sorry, what was I on about? Who knows - anyway, back to the review. The Crying Lot of 49's main protagonist, Oedipa Maas, is named as executor of the estate of a former lover and therefore becomes exposed to the supposed existence to an alternative postal service that goes back centuries - originating in Europe and still operating in a clandestine manner in 1960s California. The novel is brimming with unusual situations and strange characters, but despite this The Crying Lot of 49 was mostly mundane rather than intriguing. Perhaps it is due to an overexposure to post-modern techniques that really hit the mainstream in the 1990's in cinema and television in particular. In fact Pynchon himself appeared (well, his voice at least...) in The Simpsons as himself, satirizing his reputation as a weird recluse. Despite my mild disappointment the novel was worth reading and I did enjoy the satirizing of conspiracy theories in general, which I believe is the main theme of the novel; it was published three years after the assassination of Kennedy after all, which became one of the most prevalent conspiracy theories of them all. Sorry about the lukewarm review Mr Pynchon (if you ever read this...), but I promise I'll still get around to reading Gravity's Rainbow one day, or maybe I'll just read about it...

Monday, 5 August 2019

Helliconia Summer - Brian Aldiss (1983)

Rating: Excellent

Helliconia Summer, the second volume in the Helliconia trilogy, is superb old-school science fiction. The novel is superior to Helliconia Spring (1982), partly because the world it depicts is far richer in summer than it was in its emergent state in spring. The novel also contains much more detail about humanity's observational satellite - Avernus, in orbit around the planet, as well as Helliconia's stellar and biological history. The novel's world-building is splendidly detailed, fascinating and ultimately entirely satisfying. During summer the planet's human-like life forms are dominant and their civilization is akin to that of Earth's late middle ages. The planet's other intelligent inhabitants, the Phagors (as pictured on the book cover) are much more passive during summer, surviving and biding their time until winter returns. The Phagors are curiously compelling aliens, despite being mostly impassive and enigmatic. Although Phagor culture is less sophisticated than that of the 'humans' they make them seem childish and vain in comparison.

Part of what makes Helliconia Summer so satisfying is the weave of complex multiple plot strands that also feature well rounded and believable characters. The characters are generally dynamic and relatably human in both their motivations and flaws. I couldn't help but get caught up in the characters individual stories as they struggled to cope with the planet's continual cultural and geographical shifts. Like the first novel there are long sections detailing particular narrative threads, however there is much more dynamism to the narrative in general, making it far more compelling than the first novel. Despite being nearly 600 pages in length I really did not want Helliconia Summer to end, it was thoroughly enjoyable and I couldn't help but wonder why it has never been made into a series akin to something like Game of Thrones; it certainly has the complexity and scope to satisfy most modern viewers, even those who failed to understand Game of Thrones denouement.

Monday, 22 July 2019

The Old Devils - Kingsley Amis (1986)

Rating: Excellent

The Old Devils is one of those rare novels that is quite brilliant and has also won the Booker Prize. That is a bit harsh, as there have been quite a few winners that have been exceptional, but also some that are very disappointing indeed. The novel is erudite, stylishly written and also is very very funny; full of wit, satire and outright laughs. This is also a rare feat, as I've found that humorous literary fiction is hard to find and therefore I conclude that it is difficult to write. I only have to think of that notoriously reprehensible Man Booker Prize winner The Finkler Question (2010) and its risible attempts at humour to confirm that suspicion. There is, of course, another rarity at play in that the son (Martin Amis) is just as good as the father and I can't think of another quality father son combination in literature.

The Old Devils follows a coterie of elderly Welsh couples whose chief shared interest is drinking and attempting to deal with their various ailments and life disappointments. Back into their lives after decades in London comes Welsh poet Alun Weaver and his wife Rhiannon, a great beauty who left a number of the old devils heartbroken in her wake. Alun is one of those larger than life characters whose charisma and outrageously bad behavior as both a malcontent and philanderer almost steals the novel (and I suspect gave Amis an opportunity to satirize himself as an added bonus...). However Amis created a host of well fleshed out characters both male and female that elicit both insight and poignancy. The novel does perhaps go on a bit and has a few flat spots, however the emotional and satisfying ending makes up for any minor shortcomings. The Old Devils is an extremely satisfying novel and I'm going to start collecting Amis' books whenever I see them and also try and rectify the fact that I haven't read his infamous debt novel Lucky Jim (1954).



Sunday, 30 June 2019

Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind - Yuval Noah Harari (2011)

Rating: Excellent

About six months ago I had a friend over for dinner and he brought along a friend of his I'd never met before, who noticed my copy of Sapiens on one of my book piles and proceeded to enthuse about it; he also mentioned that reading it made him decide to become a vegetarian, which was something I found puzzling at the time. Now I've read Sapiens I can fully understand its power to create life changing decisions. Sapiens takes a cold hard look at humanity as a species, not just our origins but just how we've arrived at this point in our history. Sapiens is not a blow by blow historical account of humanity, rather Harari examines particular significant turning points in our history and the manner in which we have shaped our shared destinies for better or worse. Harari divides the book into four parts: 'The Cognitive Revolution', 'The Agricultural Revolution', 'The Unification of Humankind' and 'The Scientific Revolution', which gives you a very good idea of the main focus of his arguments. 

We are, in many ways, a remarkable species, however throughout Sapiens our flaws are repeatedly revealed, something that stands out the further you progress through the book and the reality is there's no escaping it. Just one of a long intersecting line of hominins descended from apes, Homo Sapiens embarked on a journey of adaptation that is characterized by repeated destruction of the natural world and of each other. The agricultural revolution, Harari argues, did much more harm than good and trapped humanity in a cycle of disease, deprivation and misery and led to untold suffering of all the animals we rely on for sustenance (the source of my new acquaintance's vegetarianism). This is just one example of the double edge sword of humanity's progress through history.

Early in the book Harari notes that the word Sapiens means 'wise' and Homo means 'man' - so we are men who are wise, something that my own world view (I've always been an atheist and now have embraced nihilism, which is very freeing to say the least) has a hard time reconciling. Perhaps the most compelling argument made by Harari is the way in which humanity has the ability to organise ourselves by using 'fictions' that create realities that are not rooted in the objective world around us, such as money, nationalism and religion. These fictions have united us as a species and have helped foster much of our evolutionary success, however they have also led to great suffering and decision-making that has led to calamities that have left us with a future that is cloudy at best. 

A fine example of the negative power of these fictions is the recent Australian election. Australia's Liberal party is one of the most morally reprehensible governments in modern history, yet they easily won the election and increased their parliamentary majority. In Scott Morrison we have a Pentecostal Christian (don't get me started) who a few years ago brandished a lump of coal in parliament to illustrate his belief that coal is nothing to be afraid of (yes, he is a climate change denier/criminal). The principal fictions at play here are capitalism, combined with an ideological belief that humanity's impact on the world is negligible and in any case absolutely necessary in order to maintain the status quo. The election was dubbed by many commentators as the climate election, yet despite having seen the leader of our country brandish a lump of coal in parliament Australians chose to ignore the most urgent problem of our times to vote for him anyway (I know it was more complex than that, however climate change is the main deal here). Clearly the fictional systems we are enmeshed in sway our thinking in such a way that we can happily choose to ignore the objective fact of climate change.


A certain Homo Sapien with some 'harmless' coal

Although Sapiens is not a flawless book; Harari often labours his points with lengthy extrapolations that sometimes cause the book to get bogged down, it is an important book. It is pleasing that Sapiens has remained a best seller for years and it is partly down to the fact that Harari has achieved the right balance between intelligent writing and producing a text that can be readily read by the general population. Sapiens should be part of the high school curriculum, although no doubt that would start a fresh bout of culture wars with the right arguing that Harari is too left wing and therefore dangerous to our treasured cultural fictions.

Monday, 17 June 2019

Asymmetry - Lisa Halliday (2018)

Rating: Excellent

There's a scene right at the end of David Bowie's twenty minute video Jazzin' for Blue Jean (1984) where Bowie's rock star character, Screaming Lord Byron, leaves with Bowie's every-man character's female interest (Bowie plays both characters). Every-man Bowie engages in a tirade against the retreating rock star and then breaks character and talks to the director (Julian Temple) and production crew about how the scene should be re-shot. Bowie and Temple then argue about the merits of being 'clever clever'. Asymmetry is just like Bowie and Temple's postmodern take on the music video; it is 'clever clever' and perhaps a bit too clever for its own good. It also uses most of the typical postmodern techniques that have become all too familiar and therefore a bit stale. The novel is arranged into three seemingly disparate sections - Folly, Madness and Desert Island Discs, yet they are connected by a series of clues. There are innumerable allusions to writers and novels and the female protagonist in Folly is called Alice and she does indeed descend down the rabbit hole into a relationship with a much older man, a writer called Blazer, whom is based on Philip Roth, whom Halliday had a relationship with when she was in her twenties. I could go on...(but I only write two paragraphs these days...)

I completed Asymmetry with feelings of ambivalence, cynicism even; however I had to admit to myself in the end that the novel was quite an achievement. The writing is tightly focused, littered with beautiful imagery and manages to be both playful and profound, in particular during the middle section written from the perspective of Amar, an Iraqi/American citizen held for questioning at Heathrow airport in the early 1990s. Amar's character is nicely rounded, but more significantly he becomes a mouth-piece that enables Halliday to talk about political issues whilst at the same time acknowledging how talking about political issues in literature is fraught with pointlessness and pomposity - now that's clever clever. Halliday manages to pack a lot of thematic juice into what is a refreshingly short novel. She covers relationships, aging, the anxiety of influence, the role of literature in culture and the existential difficulty of finding a meaningful path through life. Asymmetry may annoy you, frustrate you, but in the end it's worth the effort and indicates that just maybe there is life left in postmodernism after all.