Friday, April 21, 2017

Fingersmith - Sarah Waters



"That bitch knew everything. She had been in on it from the start."








This novel starts off as a fairly Dickensian historical piece.  Set in 19th century London among a loose knit family of thieves with the requisite odd names to go with it.  The man of the house is a Mr Ibbs, who spends much of his time melting gold off of coins, just a little so as to not lose the value of the coin, but enough to acquire a bit of gold .  The lady of the house Mrs. Sucksby, runs a quasi adoption agency, taking in babies of local prostitutes and other shamed girls, and then selling the babies for a profit (after keeping them quiet in their cribs with nips of rum).  One of the few older girls there is Sue Tinder (names does mean something), who has always received better attention from Mrs Sucksby.  Sue does occasionally participate in some of the less noble activities there -she learns how to make keys for one,  but in general is kept out of things.  This changes with the arrival of Gentleman, a family acquaintance who has an idea for a wonderful swindle that requires Sue to join in. 




I'm loathe to give much of the plot here, other than to say it is incredibly complex and has a tendency to fold back on itself multiple times.  Its not too much to say that this is a mystery, and a lesbian romance (I think pretty much every Sarah Waters' book is).  There is a weird old guy who is cataloging literary porn because....someone has to do it(?), a girl, Maud Lilly, who has been raised incredibly cloistered except for one small, nah, huge, exception, and a lot of skullduggery concerning who exactly people are.  And an insane asylum, and a knife, a playing card...




One of the great things about this book is the way it does the unexpected - in some novels this comes at the expense of misleading the reader - but that's not the case here - you are put in the same seat, with the same knowledge as some of the characters, and things aren't always what they seem to them.  Vertigo essentially employed this same process, and that turned out well.  In Fingersmith, this is even added to by not having everything revealed at once.  We think we are done with the surprises, but more keep coming.  There is a labyrinthine scheme going on here that is not the one you think, even a few pages from the end.  And characters who can be exceedingly good while at the same time exceedingly bad.




I suppose, too, this is about family.  While we don't have families in the traditional sense here - the two main characters have never known either of their parents or immediate family members, and there isn't a single normal parent-child relationship in the book, the allegiances, and responsibilities, are the same and play an important role in what goes on. More importantly, we get to see what happens when the foundations of families prove to be in one way an illusion, but remain steadfast in other ways.

Friday, December 16, 2016

Underground - Haruki Murakami





One of two, as far as I know, nonfiction books by Murakami (I believe he has something relatively new with Seiji Ozawa on music, so maybe three).  In 1995, the religious cult Aum Shinrikyo executed  five simultaneous attacks on the Tokyo subway system by releasing the chemical weapon sarin gas.  12 people were killed, approximately 50 people were severely injured, and up to 5000 people had at least temporary symptoms. Murakami's interest was in the victims and this book includes his interviews with a variety of survivors and relatives of some non-survivors.  The second half of the book includes his interviews with a few Aum members (none of whom were directly involved in, or had prior knowledge of the attack).


Murakami has built a career in writing novels that are often quite critical of Japanese society and its rigid structure of a strict work ethic and a need to conform.  This book expands on that - one of the striking things is the consistent trend of the subway victims to desperately try to get to work (or stay on the job in the case of the subway workers) even as they were experiencing symptoms and passing by people who had collapsed (this happened during the morning rush hour).  I suspect this was at least partially due to the incomprehension that a chemical weapon attack was actually happening (selected members of the group pierced bags of liquid sarin hidden in newspapers on the trains, so there were no obvious signs that anything was wrong until people began to become ill), but the sense of duty these people felt to their employers is strongly apparent in the interviews.  While a few professed anger at Aum members, many others seemed more intent on just putting this in the past and moving on with their lives. 
The interviews with the Aum members are also striking.  By the time of the interviews, many had left the group (which still exists to this day), but nearly all had positive things to say about it.  Murakami suggests that Aum, which required its followers to renounce their past lives and give up everything to become a member, gave these people a means of feeling a part of a group, something that they were lacking, as most of them were outsiders in some way prior to joining.  He sees a parallel between Aum and Japanese society in that both required people to give up a good part of their self in order to become a member of that group.  Aum members typically weren't willing to give up that part of their self to fit into typical Japanese society, so they turned to Aum as an alternative.  While Murakami sees how this ultimately led to the horror of the subway attack, he also sees that for many of the Aum members, they were able to benefit from Aum.  All his interviewees had difficulty when he asked them if they would have carried out the attack if asked.  Most said no, but they all seemed to realize the ambiguities of the situation they had become involved in.
Like all of Murakami's books, well worth reading.

Friday, September 16, 2016

World's End - T. Coraghessan Boyle









Plot:  The Dutch settle upstate New York, much to the consternation of the natives.  Over three centuries, not much changes.


Why read it:  Boyle apparently grew up here and knows the area and the people well.  When I first read this years ago, I was least impressed with the section set in the 1940's.  Now that I now know more of the history of the Peekskill riots and the associated history, that section of the book seems completely different to me now, and is one of the highlights. And there are ghosts, both the ancestral kind and the literary kind, as in Washington Irving and perhaps Melville.  Boyle is at a minimum, an interesting writer, and here, he's a great writer.  I can also vouch for Drop City.


A grand, centuries hopping tale of three families in the Hudson River Valley.  A novel of place, of fate, of being tied to the land, and what happens when you lose those things.   Boyle focuses on the Van Warts and Van Brunts, Dutch settlers to the New York are in the 1600's.  We met their ancestors in both the 1940's and 1960's.  Things haven't really changed much.  In some cases, not even the names, but the important thing is the Warts are still doing it to the Van Brunts.


A lot of the fun (although in a somewhat dark way) is in seeing history repeat itself time and time again, even as some of the characters are aware of that possibility and it still happens to them.  Only one character seems to have the ability to shake this, and his solution is to literally go to the world's end.  There's a character who is not very nice and has a habit of eating dirt, but you understand why he eats dirt after a while, and it makes sense; at least it did to me.  It didn't make him more sympathetic, but gave insight into why his family was where it was.


Another book that fortunately has a list of all the characters, as there are a lot.  And it is a book that you can argue with, but in a good way.  Is fate really that big of an influence over our lives?  That certainly is the tack the novel takes.  But it also seems to make the argument that we can overprescribe fate, and merely do things that seem to reinforce fate - in a "this is going to happen anyway, so why not?" mode. 

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

A Brief History of Seven Killings - Marlon James



“People stupid. The dream didn't leave, people just don't know a nightmare when they right in the middle of one.”  




Plot:  A not so brief story about more than seven killings.  Beginning in mid 70's Jamaica just prior to the Smile Jamaica concert, and winding through the 80's and early 1990's, and New York, and as told by a multitude of narrators, the complex and violent world of Jamaican politics, injustice and struggle for a better life.


Why read it: A challenge to read - many of the characters use Jamaican patois, so just figuring out what they are saying can be challenge, especially early on, and its a complex story that, other than a brief introductory chapter by a ghost to help orient you a little, doesn't provide much in the way of explanation as you are sifting through chapters narrated by seemingly unconnected people.  But it all coalesces together pretty soon and you are left totally immersed in a constantly shifting   but always engrossing story.


I saw The Harder They Come many, many years ago and was eternally grateful for subtitles.  Still, I found it a bit ironic to be watching a movie that was more or less in English needing this to be understood.  In reality, the subtitles weren't needed; what was gained in understanding by having them was canceled out by the loss of trying to overlay English on Jamaican tongues.   Which is not totally unrelated to the point of A Brief History.  Other than quickly looking up bombacloth, or one of the many variants that seem to appear multiple times on every page, I just struggled through for a few chapters until I felt confident of what I was reading.  More important was deciphering motivation and allegiances, which were often clouded, unsurprising in a book that has CIA operatives and Bay of Pigs veterans hanging around on its edges.
The Singer, as he is referred to here, hangs over the book, while he barely appears in it.  He is the fulcrum for the main event that everything leads to and then moves from.  However, like the Singer himself, who was not easy to define, and came to represent a country in which he was part of a fringe minority that  managed to scare all the wrong people.  The threat they represented was different to different people - to the CIA it was communism, to the gangs that ruled much of Kingston, it was a threat to their power, and oddly it seems, to their identity.
In moving from the 70's to the 90's, we pass through a few generations of Jamaicans.  Up to the late 1970's, the gangs in Kingston seem happy with just local ambitions, notably in the character Papa-Lo, the leader of one of the gangs.  In a bit of a recurring theme, Papa-Lo uses people's consistency in underestimating him to his advantage, until Papa-Lo underestimates his own second, Josey Wales.  Wales is the most memorable character in the book, a violent man, but one with a very sharp mind.  Wales expands the groups reach into the US in the 80's through distribution of crack.  Ultimately, though, Wales is brought down by his own parochialness, not being aware of the political repercussions his business causes in the US.  That, and like Papa-Lo, having an underling who may be underestimated himself.


A violent book - Jamaica is not just the land of reggae and beaches.  And parts of New York in the 80's and 90's wasn't much better.

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Evidence of Things Unseen - Marianne Wiggins





"People lean, either in their dreams or in their actions, toward that place where they suspect their inner lights are coming from. Whether they call it God or conscience or the manual of Army protocol, people sublime toward where their inner fire burns, and given enough fuel for thought and a level playing field to dream on, anyone can leave a fingerprint on the blank of history."
Plot: Nice guy amateur scientist gives his wife (and himself) cancer.  America enters enters the atomic age.  Is it progress?
Why read it: Few novels are able to give such a complete feel of everyday life in the early 20th century as this does.  I was particularly impressed with the road trips Fos (and sometimes Opal) takes early on;  these were real adventures back then, given the newness of automobiles, the lack of highways and the attached conveniences. 


After reading three of Marianne Wiggin's novels, it suddenly occurred to me that they all take place in the early 20th century.  I'm not sure if that's an important point or not. beyond this, they don't have a lot in common other than protagonists who are just slightly outside the mainstream of life, attempting to fit in the way they can rather than just breaking away completely.


Evidence of Things Unseen is about light.  Fos (Ray Foster), trained as a candle maker, then shipped off to WWI and ends up making flares so the men in the trenches can "see death coming." He parlays that into a job at a photography studio with his war buddy, the heavy drinking, womanizing, rich Flash (real name Chance) back in Tenessee.  Fos is fascinated by the natural light of the world, whether from the nighttime sky, or bioluminesncence, or wherever else he can find it.  On an annual trip to see the sky in Kitty Hawk, Fos' car breaks down (the human made world will on occasion fail us) he meets Opal, a young woman he quickly falls in love with.  They get married, working at the studio in Tennessee and using  Fos' homemade x-ray machine at local fairs to show the bones in Opal's feet.


Their story will move through the next few decades of America with everything that implies.  Symbolism is heavy in this book, form the character's names to the wooden whales that appear often.  Flash will figure prominently in the roaring 20's as one would assume.  The depression takes over soon after, until that leads to the coming of war and a new age for America.  The writing is wonderful, lyrical and vividly describes life in a different, slower America of the time.


Look closely and you can get glimpses of Melville, Fitzgerald, and Steinbeck running through the book. 



Monday, August 15, 2016

The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt

“—if a painting really works down in your heart and changes the way you see, and think, and feel, you don’t think, ‘oh, I love this picture because it’s universal.’ ‘I love this painting because it speaks to all mankind.’ That’s not the reason anyone loves a piece of art. It’s a secret whisper from an alleyway. Psst, you. Hey kid. Yes you.”


Plot: Thirteen year old Theo Decker and his mother are two victims of a terrorist attack on a museum in New York.  His mother is killed, but Theo is one of the few survivors. In the immediate aftermath of the explosion, he comes into possession of an old ring and the 1654 masterpiece by Fabritius. As his father has disappeared, Theo is taken in by a friend's wealthy family.  Just as he is getting accustomed to living there, his father reappears and takes Theo to a new home in Las Vegas.  There, Theo lives a mostly unsupervised life along with his new friend Boris.  The following months of alcohol and drug abuse end only when Theo's father, facing loans he can't repay, kills himself.  Theo ends up back in New York, living with the partner of the man who gave him the ring in the museum. 
Eventually a grown up Theo gets involved in a complicated and dangerous scheme to recover his painting.


Why read it:  This is a powerful book on the nature of art, identity, growing up and, I would say, learning to like yourself.  Tartt has populated with a range of memorable characters - I thought Mrs. Barbour and Xandra were particularly well done, and everyone seems to enjoy Boris.  Theo, the main character, was a bit of a problem for me, being almost a bit sketchy, but I think that may be on purpose, as Theo has a hard time ever defining himself for 700 odd pages.


In my reading of this book, there are two parallel narratives - that of Theo and that of the painting.  For Theo, the painting is far and away his most precious asset, surpassing that of his own well-being.




One of the most distinct impressions I have of this book is how the main character, Theo, never really grows up, at least not until the very last few pages.  It is apparent at the start, when he is 13, that he already has a few bad habits, and they increase in severity over the years.  Theo does suffer from PTSD, for which he gets almost zero help, and this is a major factor in his abuse of drugs and alcohol, as well as his inability to form close relationships.  The relationship he has with Hobie was of particular interest to me.  Theo obviously thinks the world of Hobie, as his home is essentially his one refuge from the madness of the rest of the world.  But Hobie never really does anything proactive to help Theo - it is never made quite clear how aware Hobie is of Theo's problems, other than he seems to know more than he lets on about his personal issues.  Then again, Hobie seems completely floored that Theo has been selling antique forgeries out of their shop for a long period in order to get them out of financial ruin.  In a way, that is the nature of their relationship; they are close because Hobie doesn't pry.  Much as Theo's relationship with Kitsey is based on her ability to skim along in life and never delve into the weeds too much on emotional topics. 


Then there is Boris.  Everything gets more kinetic when he is involved. Hyperactive and perpetually alcohol or drug fueled, Boris operates at one speed.  Neither Theo nor the reader is really sure of how true most anything that comes out of his mouth is, but he does act as Theo's best and most trusted friend.  After finishing the book, I still wasn't sure of much of anything about Boris - what he actually did for a living, who he was in a relationship with, whether he actually had kids or not, and so on.   There's a bit of a subtext about his relationship with Theo that never gets resolved either, and given Theo's apparent blackouts, there's a lot of room to fill in whatever blanks you want.


I did enjoy reading this book - I think some of its flaws may be somewhat intentional.  Life doesn't always give answers, nor is it often that enjoyable, yet there is a lot to be said for it. 

Monday, August 8, 2016

The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet - David Mitchell


“If only human beings were not
masks behind masks behind masks.

If only this world was
a clean board of lines and intersections.

If only time was
a sequence of considered moves
and not a chaos of slippages and blunders.”

Plot: A young employee of the Dutch East India Company comes to 9th century Japan to inspect the financial records of the company there.  Foreigners are restricted to a small man made island, but Jacob de Zoet is interested in what lies beyond.  He becomes infatuated with a Japanese woman he briefly observes while she makes a visit to the island.  Determined to meet her, de Zoet eventually does get to go to the mainland for a short time.  The woman, Orito, is sold off by her father to a strange cult in the distant mountains.  de Zoet devises a plan to rescue her while relations between the Dutch and Japanese falter and the threat of war develops.

Why read it:  Mitchell is meticulous in his detail and is a master at exploring the mind and though processes of his characters.  This book is impressionistic and reads at times almost like poetry.  The characters are having to communicate in languages they have only a basic grasp of, yet they often have an ability to communicate on what seems to be a completely different plane of thought. 





David Mitchell can write some fairly challenging stuff.  The majority of his novels shift around it time and space and it takes a lot of work sometimes to figure out what is going on.  GhostwrittenCloud Atlas and No 9 Dream were that way.  I enjoyed all of them, particularly Ghostwritten, but none would rank as a personal favorite.  I'll eventually get around to writing about Black Swan Green, which is a personal favorite, and a big departure for Mitchell - I think you could easily classify it as YA.




Jacob de Zoet is a historical novel set in Japan of the 19th century, a time when it was still closed off almost completely to outside influence. The Dutch East India Company is allowed to trade with the Japanese, but are restricted to a small island, Dejima, from which to conduct all their business.  Interactions with most Japanese, other than those who work on the island, is prohibited.  This applies especially to women.  However, one Japanese woman, Orito, a midwife, is allowed to come to Dejima as the student of the Company's doctor.  Jacob de Zoet, a clerk for the company, who has been sent to Japan to investigate the financial books (which no one there really wants him to do), is infatuated with her despite her partially disfigured face. Jacob, honest to a fault, and Orito are soon entangled in a complicated web of personal and international relations.  Orito disappears, and ends up in a strange mountain temple, sold into a strange cult.  At the same time, political events are leading to a potential battle in Dejima.




While this all the elements of a fairly straightforward novel, with Mitchell that is not going to happen.  He is a superb writer, able to focus on all that is not readily apparent until he points it out. Maybe what made this book work for me was that Mitchell stays with a fairly straightforward story here, as opposed to his more freeform other works, but still uses his remarkable ability to write in an almost surrealistic manner; the two work together to give the characters remarkable depth, but I didn't get lost like I sometimes do in his work. Here, while Mitchell describes the Japan of that period very well, it still remains a mystery, much like it does to de Zoet, who despite being in Japan, is not ever really there, or able to decipher what is going on.