Seamus Heaney – New Selected Poems (1966-1987)
Poetry - paperback with many scribbles bought from the Beardie's Barbican Bookshop sometime in 2008 for £3
- 4 nods out of 5 -
‘Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun’
And so begins this wonderful collection of the most memorable of Seamus Heaney’s poems. The collection spans from his beginning in the 1960s, through more expansive works of the 1970s, through to his much applauded The Haw Lantern in 1987. The poet remains one of Britain’s best selling poets – though perhaps Heaney himself would prefer to label himself as purely Irish.
Heaney’s Northern Irish childhood figures heavily in his earlier works, with the farming of his family taking particular emphasis. His father figures heavily, notably in Follower: ‘I was a nuisance, tripping and falling / Yapping always. But today / It is my father who keeps stumbling / Behind me, and will not go away’). There is the illustrative, picturesque words of nature in Blackberry-Picking, Death of a Naturalist and Bogland. Whilst the poem about the death of his four-year old brother - Mid-Term Break – remains evocative, heartbreaking and popular with today’s readers.
Later works concentrate on Irish-British relations, such as in Whatever You Say Say Nothing. But it is to Heaney’s credit he can concentrate on such troubling, serious matters as well as on nature and personal feelings. The collection also features the many poems centring on Sweeney, as well as the epic Station Island.
It is to the book-ends in which the Worm finds most satisfaction, to the natural leanings of the beginning to the final, diverse and obscure collection The Haw Lantern, in particular the poem Terminus. Although the vastness of the collection means there are plenty of dips and peaks, altogether the book shows why Heaney is one of the greatest poets living today, and why such a collection should proudly be shown upon any bookcase.
Friday, 29 April 2011
Monday, 25 April 2011
The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
Sylvia Plath – The Bell Jar (1963)
Novel – 230 pages – my copy (paperback) found and read whilst in work
- 2 nods out of 5 -
Sylvia Plath killed herself after numerous attempts. The Bell Jar, her one and only novel, charts the life of a woman who attempts to kill herself numerous times. If not already apparent and clear, The Bell Jar is not a happy and easy read.
The central character, Esther Greenwood is an obvious loose representation of Plath herself; we read of her descent into despair of the modern world. Such is the close proximity, the book could read more as memoir. The poet and novelist are known to share a love relationship with themselves and their own creations, and Plath is keen to take this to the next level: rather than a story, the pages in the novel take on the form of awkward confession, of explicit masturbation of Plath on Plath.
There is a great deal of self pity, of Esther’s and Sylvia’s eclipse in the real world: ‘I felt like a racehorse in a world without race-tracks or a champion college footballer suddenly confronted by Wall Street and a business suit, his days of glory shrunk to a little gold cup on his mantel with a date engraved on it like the date on a tombstone.’
The book becomes all the more interesting the greater the insanity, with Plath’s prose becoming – for the only time – lively; there is experimentation with the inner voice(s). Yet sadly, this is not taken further; and this is the main frustration with The Bell Jar. It could have become a female counterweight to Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye. But where the reader roots for Holden Caulfield; they merely deride Esther Greenwood.
The Bell Jar is not a good novel. It is debatable if it is an honest novel. However, it is Plath’s only novel, and as such, it continues to garner attention.
Novel – 230 pages – my copy (paperback) found and read whilst in work
- 2 nods out of 5 -
Sylvia Plath killed herself after numerous attempts. The Bell Jar, her one and only novel, charts the life of a woman who attempts to kill herself numerous times. If not already apparent and clear, The Bell Jar is not a happy and easy read.
The central character, Esther Greenwood is an obvious loose representation of Plath herself; we read of her descent into despair of the modern world. Such is the close proximity, the book could read more as memoir. The poet and novelist are known to share a love relationship with themselves and their own creations, and Plath is keen to take this to the next level: rather than a story, the pages in the novel take on the form of awkward confession, of explicit masturbation of Plath on Plath.
There is a great deal of self pity, of Esther’s and Sylvia’s eclipse in the real world: ‘I felt like a racehorse in a world without race-tracks or a champion college footballer suddenly confronted by Wall Street and a business suit, his days of glory shrunk to a little gold cup on his mantel with a date engraved on it like the date on a tombstone.’
The book becomes all the more interesting the greater the insanity, with Plath’s prose becoming – for the only time – lively; there is experimentation with the inner voice(s). Yet sadly, this is not taken further; and this is the main frustration with The Bell Jar. It could have become a female counterweight to Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye. But where the reader roots for Holden Caulfield; they merely deride Esther Greenwood.
The Bell Jar is not a good novel. It is debatable if it is an honest novel. However, it is Plath’s only novel, and as such, it continues to garner attention.
Sunday, 17 April 2011
The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas - John Boyne
John Boyne – The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas (2006)
Novel – 215 pages – my copy (paperback; 2010) borrowed from the Worm’s nearest and dearest
- 3 nods out of 5 -
John Boyne has done what most novelists never achieve: written a best seller that has been genuinely enjoyed by those in walks of life. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas has sold by the bucket load as well as converted onto the big-screen. And this all from a book he typed out in a mere two days; such is the strange nature of art. Years can be spent and squandered on uselessness, whilst inspiration may strike at any moment.
The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas charts the journey of Bruno, a young boy in 1940s Nazi Germany. Although in third-person, the perspective is entirely Bruno’s, therefore little is known of war and atrocities, that his father is an ardent Nazi and fan of ‘the Fury’ and that his new home that he calls ‘Out-With’ is actually ‘Auschwitz’. At the camp Bruno strikes up a friendship with a Jewish boy on the other side of the fence, and through youthful innocence, become the best of friends.
Boyne accomplishes a master-stroke in having this chaotic and confused time viewed through the eyes of a young boy; the lack of complex ideology and histography explains the reason why it was such a success internationally. Yet the book’s end is clear and evitable to anyone with foresight upon Bruno’s first meeting with his new friend. Will the Worm spoil it for those out there yet to pick up Boyne’s short novel? Yes, he will: Bruno slips under the fence and ends being gassed to death alongside his newfound best friend.
Boyne doesn’t go in for moralizing within the pages, this is left for the readers themselves. However, the ending lines perhaps hint at the horror that can lie within us: ‘And that’s the end of the story about Bruno and his family. Of course all this happened a long time ago and nothing like that could ever happen again. Not in this day and age.’
The author has come under fire for historical inaccuracies: would Bruno have been allowed so much time to spend with his Jewish friend? Of course not; but this is of little point. Boyne’s job is a novelist first and foremost, to transport the reader to different realms and situations, and in this case, to bring about a clear distinction between good and evil, of truth and justice. In this, Boyne has surely succeeded.
Novel – 215 pages – my copy (paperback; 2010) borrowed from the Worm’s nearest and dearest
- 3 nods out of 5 -
John Boyne has done what most novelists never achieve: written a best seller that has been genuinely enjoyed by those in walks of life. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas has sold by the bucket load as well as converted onto the big-screen. And this all from a book he typed out in a mere two days; such is the strange nature of art. Years can be spent and squandered on uselessness, whilst inspiration may strike at any moment.
The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas charts the journey of Bruno, a young boy in 1940s Nazi Germany. Although in third-person, the perspective is entirely Bruno’s, therefore little is known of war and atrocities, that his father is an ardent Nazi and fan of ‘the Fury’ and that his new home that he calls ‘Out-With’ is actually ‘Auschwitz’. At the camp Bruno strikes up a friendship with a Jewish boy on the other side of the fence, and through youthful innocence, become the best of friends.
Boyne accomplishes a master-stroke in having this chaotic and confused time viewed through the eyes of a young boy; the lack of complex ideology and histography explains the reason why it was such a success internationally. Yet the book’s end is clear and evitable to anyone with foresight upon Bruno’s first meeting with his new friend. Will the Worm spoil it for those out there yet to pick up Boyne’s short novel? Yes, he will: Bruno slips under the fence and ends being gassed to death alongside his newfound best friend.
Boyne doesn’t go in for moralizing within the pages, this is left for the readers themselves. However, the ending lines perhaps hint at the horror that can lie within us: ‘And that’s the end of the story about Bruno and his family. Of course all this happened a long time ago and nothing like that could ever happen again. Not in this day and age.’
The author has come under fire for historical inaccuracies: would Bruno have been allowed so much time to spend with his Jewish friend? Of course not; but this is of little point. Boyne’s job is a novelist first and foremost, to transport the reader to different realms and situations, and in this case, to bring about a clear distinction between good and evil, of truth and justice. In this, Boyne has surely succeeded.
Monday, 11 April 2011
The Time Traveller's Guide to Medieval England - Ian Mortimer
Ian Mortimer - The Time Traveller’s Guide to Medieval England (2008)
History – 300 pages – my copy (paperback; 2008) purchased for £8.99 from Plymouth Waterstone’s in early 2011
- 3 nods out of 5 -
The Doc has arrived on your doorstep, the delorean waiting outside, engine on, ready to roll. He asks you to what part of history would you like to travel. Ancient Rome to dine alongside Caesar, perhaps? Or instead battling alongside Drake for Queen and country? Or watching the liberation of Paris against the Nazi hordes? More than likely medieval England will be low on the list: what with its diseases (the Black Death!), its wars (inevitably against the French), and its lack of basic human rights. But despite its setbacks, it remains a fascinating time, a cross-roads between the old and what would become the modern.
The author, Ian Mortimer has become a voice of authority upon the fourteenth century, having written biographies upon Edward III and Henry IV. This book, however, is less weighty and more entertaining. The reader is introduced to the major themes of the period, from the landscape, to the people, the law and the mentality of the medieval man.
Out of the window goes any precise narrative, as well as little political coverage. Royalty and leading figures do make an appearance, but more as illustrations of the period’s attitudes. Rather, Mortimer’s book sets itself out as a bona-fide travel guide: where to eat, where to visit, what to do, what to wear. And throughout all of this, the author is an amiable host, pointing out the dangers and directing us to the best ale-houses in the land.
Despite its breezy tones, there is no doubt that beneath the words there exists a dense network of information. However, this time traveller’s guide never attempts to go beyond its limits; it is content to entertain and remain a jovial light read-through. Like most holiday guide-books, you pick it up, skim it through, then when the holiday is over it is time to donate it to the local charity shop. Mortimer’s book never suggests it can become an authoritative guide to the period; however, as an introduction fellow book-worms could do no worse than to start here.
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