Emile Zola - The Flood (1880)
Novella – read via the Kindle app for the iPhone, May 2011
- 3 nods out of 5 -
The Flood is a brief story – not quite a novel, not really a novella, but perhaps more than a short story – that recounts the downfall of a happy and content French farmer. Printed in its original French as L’Inondation, the story’s beginning finds the seventy year old Louis surrounded by a full and supportive family, consisting of his brother and sister, his children and grandchildren; yet disaster strikes when the nearby river, the Garonne, floods.
The fairytale descends into a nightmare as the flood destroys hundreds of houses in the village. The waters keep rising during this pain-filled night as Louis watches all of his loved ones, one by one, succumbing to their awful fates; Zola taking a somewhat morbid fascination in the demise of the Roubien family.
Zola is a noted writer, and perhaps The Flood is not the best example of his skill and craft. However, its final image, of Louis weeping at the sight of the bodies of his granddaughter and husband-to-be is an enduring and haunting one. A reminder that in this life anything we hold can be lost in a moment.
Tuesday, 28 June 2011
Monday, 27 June 2011
The Raven - Edgar Allan Poe
Edgar Allan Poe - The Raven (1845)
Poem – read as an app on the iPhone, May 2011
- 4 nods out of 5 -
The Worm’s first introduction to The Raven – perhaps like many others of a recent generation – was via The Simpsons Halloween Special of the early 1990s. Insanity strikes the cartoon yellowness of Homer as the sniping bird of Bart looms into his chambers in a surprisingly well directed segment.
The poem’s origins, however, lays well before the television age. Written by the very much esteemed Edgar Allan Poe in the 1840s, the poem has been a stable of school classes for decades upon decades. It narrates the titular raven descending upon an abandoned lover, his cries of ‘Nevermore’ slowly driving the lover insane.
Poe crafts this fall into madness with a wonderful pattern of prose and rhyme; the poem – like all good poems should do – rolls off both the tongue and the eye. As the poem’s climax displays:
‘And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!’
The Raven is a popular classic and will continue to be so, remaining in the consciousness of, chiefly, the American nation (as parodies and tributes such as The Simpsons episode show). Read in one sitting, and read for scot-free upon the internet, there can be no excuse for ignoring Poe’s creation. Go out and Google The Raven today.
Read it today right here:
http://www.heise.de/ix/raven/Literature/Lore/TheRaven.html
Poem – read as an app on the iPhone, May 2011
- 4 nods out of 5 -
The Worm’s first introduction to The Raven – perhaps like many others of a recent generation – was via The Simpsons Halloween Special of the early 1990s. Insanity strikes the cartoon yellowness of Homer as the sniping bird of Bart looms into his chambers in a surprisingly well directed segment.
The poem’s origins, however, lays well before the television age. Written by the very much esteemed Edgar Allan Poe in the 1840s, the poem has been a stable of school classes for decades upon decades. It narrates the titular raven descending upon an abandoned lover, his cries of ‘Nevermore’ slowly driving the lover insane.
Poe crafts this fall into madness with a wonderful pattern of prose and rhyme; the poem – like all good poems should do – rolls off both the tongue and the eye. As the poem’s climax displays:
‘And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!’
The Raven is a popular classic and will continue to be so, remaining in the consciousness of, chiefly, the American nation (as parodies and tributes such as The Simpsons episode show). Read in one sitting, and read for scot-free upon the internet, there can be no excuse for ignoring Poe’s creation. Go out and Google The Raven today.
Read it today right here:
http://www.heise.de/ix/raven/Literature/Lore/TheRaven.html
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
Postwar - Tony Judt
Tony Judt – Postwar: A History of Europe Since 1945 (2005)
History – 850 pages – my copy (paperback; 2010) bought from Plymouth Waterstone’s, March 2011
- 5 nods out of 5 -
History books are odd things. They attempt to make coherent a large span of time, processing decades into pages. Tony Judt’s book covers seventy years, as well as a continent of peoples, ideas and beliefs. A hefty challenge, indeed!
Postwar does what it says on the tin, a history of Europe since 1945. The author splits this period into four sections: Post-War 1945-1953, Prosperity and Its Discontents 1953-1971, Recessional 1971-1989, ending on After the Fall 1989-2005. As these titles illustrate, post war Europe has had its share of ups and downs, towing back and forth between east and west, between capitalism and communism, between the pursuit of richness and the continuing poor masses.
Out of the ruins of the Second World War, Europe rediscovers itself. This continent of differences and contrasts becomes closer in alliance and union, creating vast wealth in the process. Yet it is also the continent of the Cold War, of poverty in the east and of racial hatred in the Balkans. The defining ideologies of the first half of the twentieth century gives way to post war aspirations: all conquering consumerism. Perhaps the conclusion to such aspirations is being played out in 2011, with the lurching credit crisis no closer to resolution.
Such an array of ideas, events and conflicts could easily throw many a historian into despair. Thankfully for the reader, Judt is just the person to tackle the job. Confident and in control, Judt is never afraid to add his own personal opinion on topics ranging from soviet politics to modern architecture to pop music. The author keeps the book ticking nicely, with perfect selection of the major events. The central divide in the book, that of the eastern bloc, gives way to a centralising European theme by the end; though Judt refrains from endorsing a happy European future by pointing out the vast differences between all those who dwell on the continent.
Judt’s Postwar has set the bar as a premier read on modern European history written in the English language. Understandably, it is a large book – fitting in such a wealth of history, it has to be – and like all memorable journeys, it is worth the read.
History – 850 pages – my copy (paperback; 2010) bought from Plymouth Waterstone’s, March 2011
- 5 nods out of 5 -
History books are odd things. They attempt to make coherent a large span of time, processing decades into pages. Tony Judt’s book covers seventy years, as well as a continent of peoples, ideas and beliefs. A hefty challenge, indeed!
Postwar does what it says on the tin, a history of Europe since 1945. The author splits this period into four sections: Post-War 1945-1953, Prosperity and Its Discontents 1953-1971, Recessional 1971-1989, ending on After the Fall 1989-2005. As these titles illustrate, post war Europe has had its share of ups and downs, towing back and forth between east and west, between capitalism and communism, between the pursuit of richness and the continuing poor masses.
Out of the ruins of the Second World War, Europe rediscovers itself. This continent of differences and contrasts becomes closer in alliance and union, creating vast wealth in the process. Yet it is also the continent of the Cold War, of poverty in the east and of racial hatred in the Balkans. The defining ideologies of the first half of the twentieth century gives way to post war aspirations: all conquering consumerism. Perhaps the conclusion to such aspirations is being played out in 2011, with the lurching credit crisis no closer to resolution.
Such an array of ideas, events and conflicts could easily throw many a historian into despair. Thankfully for the reader, Judt is just the person to tackle the job. Confident and in control, Judt is never afraid to add his own personal opinion on topics ranging from soviet politics to modern architecture to pop music. The author keeps the book ticking nicely, with perfect selection of the major events. The central divide in the book, that of the eastern bloc, gives way to a centralising European theme by the end; though Judt refrains from endorsing a happy European future by pointing out the vast differences between all those who dwell on the continent.
Judt’s Postwar has set the bar as a premier read on modern European history written in the English language. Understandably, it is a large book – fitting in such a wealth of history, it has to be – and like all memorable journeys, it is worth the read.
Friday, 17 June 2011
The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
F. Scott Fitzgerald - The Great Gatsby (1926)
Novel – 190 pages – my copy (paperback; 1974) bought for £2.25 from the Beardie Bookshop on Plymouth Barbican, sometime in 2006
- 4 nods out of 5 -
‘You’ve read all of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s books
Yes, you’re well read it is well known…’
(Bob Dylan, Ballad of a Thin Man, 1965)
The Great Gatsby is hailed as a bona-fide all American classic. It figures in top ten lists of the twentieth century and remains F. Scott Fitzgerald’s most famous creation. But what, apart from the odd film adaptation (with a new Hollywood blockbuster-to-be in the works), does anyone know about Gatsby?
The novel follows the narrator, Nick Carraway, as he becomes involved with his intriguing, mysterious neighbour: Jay Gatsby. Nick charts a love triangle involving Gatsby, the never ending parties and the famed jazz mentality of the age. On the face of it, The Great Gatsby is a novel about nothing in particular. But it has an ace card: it is fantastically written.
It shares many similarities with the Worm’s previous review, William Faulkner’s The Sound & The Fury: both are early twentieth century creations, noting a passing age in an awkward fear of what the future will bring. But Fitzgerald’s characters mean much less to us than the likes of Faulkner’s Compson family; they are throw-aways, mere colour on the larger canvass.
And it is this lack of a striking theme that is The Great Gatsby's downfall. It will continue to strike up notches in the top ten lists, but when compared with the likes of true 5 nodders, it is noticeably dwarfed.
However, credit to Fitzgerald's fantastic control of prose. Many examples could be pulled from the book’s minimal pages. But the best is perhaps that saved for last, the final paragraph of The Great Gatsby:
‘So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.’
Novel – 190 pages – my copy (paperback; 1974) bought for £2.25 from the Beardie Bookshop on Plymouth Barbican, sometime in 2006
- 4 nods out of 5 -
‘You’ve read all of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s books
Yes, you’re well read it is well known…’
(Bob Dylan, Ballad of a Thin Man, 1965)
The Great Gatsby is hailed as a bona-fide all American classic. It figures in top ten lists of the twentieth century and remains F. Scott Fitzgerald’s most famous creation. But what, apart from the odd film adaptation (with a new Hollywood blockbuster-to-be in the works), does anyone know about Gatsby?
The novel follows the narrator, Nick Carraway, as he becomes involved with his intriguing, mysterious neighbour: Jay Gatsby. Nick charts a love triangle involving Gatsby, the never ending parties and the famed jazz mentality of the age. On the face of it, The Great Gatsby is a novel about nothing in particular. But it has an ace card: it is fantastically written.
It shares many similarities with the Worm’s previous review, William Faulkner’s The Sound & The Fury: both are early twentieth century creations, noting a passing age in an awkward fear of what the future will bring. But Fitzgerald’s characters mean much less to us than the likes of Faulkner’s Compson family; they are throw-aways, mere colour on the larger canvass.
And it is this lack of a striking theme that is The Great Gatsby's downfall. It will continue to strike up notches in the top ten lists, but when compared with the likes of true 5 nodders, it is noticeably dwarfed.
However, credit to Fitzgerald's fantastic control of prose. Many examples could be pulled from the book’s minimal pages. But the best is perhaps that saved for last, the final paragraph of The Great Gatsby:
‘So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.’
Monday, 13 June 2011
The Sound & The Fury - William Faulkner
William Faulkner - The Sound & The Fury (1929)
Novel – 200 pages – my copy (a splendid Norton edition; 1994) bought for £3 from the Beardie Bookshop on Plymouth Barbican in 2008
- 5 nods out of 5 -
The Sound & The Fury is, quite simply, a breath-taking must-read of a novel. Written by William Faulkner in the late 1920s, the book charts the Compson family in the south of America in the early part of the twentieth century. Cut into four parts, the first three are narrated by the brothers of a generation: each unique and different from the other, but all consumed by their obsession with their sister, Caddy.
Faulkner is quoted in stating that the image of the young Caddy climbing the pear tree in her dirty drawers is enough for his literary legacy. Boisterous and bossy, Caddy figures heavily in the novel, yet does not narrate herself. Benjy, the confused first narrator – he of the sound and the fury signifying nothing – feels the loss of Caddy – she who smelled of leaves; whilst her elder brother Quentin feels the loss of her honour. The last of the brothers, Jason – most straightforward and yet perhaps most deceitful of all narrators – strikes at Caddy and her memory at the loss of his own perceived happiness and future.
What happens? Well, ultimately, nothing. But it is the explanation of the family’s loss and inertia that compels the reader. The novel is hailed as a modernist classic, and indeed, it has all the trimmings of Joycean fiction, notably the stream of consciousness (something Faulkner employed to great effect in As I Lay Dying). Yet The Sound & The Fury is much more than this: it is the dying Compson family and the dying American South.
To add icing to the cake is the Norton Edition bonus features (like a well packaged DVD of a classic movie). Compelling articles range from letters between Faulkner and his editor to critical reviews, including Jean Paul Satre and Ralph Ellison: a real treasure trove for the Faulkner enthusiast (and that surely is you, right?).
Groundbreaking, breath-taking and must-read are statements thrown about all too often. The Worm rarely utters such applause. If you do one thing this month, buy a copy of this novel and enter Faulkner’s world.
Novel – 200 pages – my copy (a splendid Norton edition; 1994) bought for £3 from the Beardie Bookshop on Plymouth Barbican in 2008
- 5 nods out of 5 -
The Sound & The Fury is, quite simply, a breath-taking must-read of a novel. Written by William Faulkner in the late 1920s, the book charts the Compson family in the south of America in the early part of the twentieth century. Cut into four parts, the first three are narrated by the brothers of a generation: each unique and different from the other, but all consumed by their obsession with their sister, Caddy.
Faulkner is quoted in stating that the image of the young Caddy climbing the pear tree in her dirty drawers is enough for his literary legacy. Boisterous and bossy, Caddy figures heavily in the novel, yet does not narrate herself. Benjy, the confused first narrator – he of the sound and the fury signifying nothing – feels the loss of Caddy – she who smelled of leaves; whilst her elder brother Quentin feels the loss of her honour. The last of the brothers, Jason – most straightforward and yet perhaps most deceitful of all narrators – strikes at Caddy and her memory at the loss of his own perceived happiness and future.
What happens? Well, ultimately, nothing. But it is the explanation of the family’s loss and inertia that compels the reader. The novel is hailed as a modernist classic, and indeed, it has all the trimmings of Joycean fiction, notably the stream of consciousness (something Faulkner employed to great effect in As I Lay Dying). Yet The Sound & The Fury is much more than this: it is the dying Compson family and the dying American South.
To add icing to the cake is the Norton Edition bonus features (like a well packaged DVD of a classic movie). Compelling articles range from letters between Faulkner and his editor to critical reviews, including Jean Paul Satre and Ralph Ellison: a real treasure trove for the Faulkner enthusiast (and that surely is you, right?).
Groundbreaking, breath-taking and must-read are statements thrown about all too often. The Worm rarely utters such applause. If you do one thing this month, buy a copy of this novel and enter Faulkner’s world.
Monday, 23 May 2011
The Prince - Niccolo Machiavelli
Niccolo Machiavelli - The Prince (1532)
Politics – read via the Kindle app on the iPhone, in April 2011
- 4 nods out of 5 -
Niccolo Machiavelli has had a fair amount of bad press in the past four centuries. Today his very name has become synonymous with unscrupulous cunning, of deception and dishonesty. The Prince, his masterwork that is attached to his enduring legacy, is his layout of governance for any ruler; and by trampling in the dirty dishwater of politics, of what would become known as realpolitik, little favour is given to such machiavellian machinations.
The Prince was written in the early part of the sixteenth century, a tumultuous and exciting time in Italian history. Not yet united – that would come much later in the 1800s – Italy was divided between princedoms and kingdoms, of occupying forces and cultures, from France to Spain. Machiavelli played a decisive role in the city of Florence, as it cast a greater influence over its neighbours, before being invaded by a French army.
After being thrown out of government, Machiavelli appears to have written this treatise as an attempt to cuddle up to the ruling Medici family; but The Prince was of greater innovation and lasting benefit than a simple expediency. In a series of chapters, the author lays out the problems facing a ruling prince and how best to deal with them, from conquering neighbouring territory to examining the qualities that make up a prince. Questions are asked and debated, upon the benefits of ‘criminal virtue’, of gaining the support and respect of the people, and of ‘avoiding flatterers’.
Machiavelli supports his questions and answers with examples of recent history, mostly centring on the rising and ebbing fortunes of the numerous Italian states that surround Florence. Due to an absence of financial flexing and military muscle when compared with the great states of the day like France, it is common sense to assume cities such as Florence had to adapt and implement a range of tactics to merely survive.
The influence of The Prince cannot be doubted, from English kings to Napoleon. It helped lay out the basis of a political philosophy, with the work being used in situations from policing a people to management of upstart workers in an office. And it will continue exerting influence, just as Machiavelli’s name will continue to carry with it less welcome connotations. For readers who wish to climb inside the minds of many of the military geniuses and great statesmen of the past five hundred years, The Prince is a must read; however, it holds little attraction for those who want nothing to do with the sordid deals of Machiavellian politicians.
Politics – read via the Kindle app on the iPhone, in April 2011
- 4 nods out of 5 -
Niccolo Machiavelli has had a fair amount of bad press in the past four centuries. Today his very name has become synonymous with unscrupulous cunning, of deception and dishonesty. The Prince, his masterwork that is attached to his enduring legacy, is his layout of governance for any ruler; and by trampling in the dirty dishwater of politics, of what would become known as realpolitik, little favour is given to such machiavellian machinations.
The Prince was written in the early part of the sixteenth century, a tumultuous and exciting time in Italian history. Not yet united – that would come much later in the 1800s – Italy was divided between princedoms and kingdoms, of occupying forces and cultures, from France to Spain. Machiavelli played a decisive role in the city of Florence, as it cast a greater influence over its neighbours, before being invaded by a French army.
After being thrown out of government, Machiavelli appears to have written this treatise as an attempt to cuddle up to the ruling Medici family; but The Prince was of greater innovation and lasting benefit than a simple expediency. In a series of chapters, the author lays out the problems facing a ruling prince and how best to deal with them, from conquering neighbouring territory to examining the qualities that make up a prince. Questions are asked and debated, upon the benefits of ‘criminal virtue’, of gaining the support and respect of the people, and of ‘avoiding flatterers’.
Machiavelli supports his questions and answers with examples of recent history, mostly centring on the rising and ebbing fortunes of the numerous Italian states that surround Florence. Due to an absence of financial flexing and military muscle when compared with the great states of the day like France, it is common sense to assume cities such as Florence had to adapt and implement a range of tactics to merely survive.
The influence of The Prince cannot be doubted, from English kings to Napoleon. It helped lay out the basis of a political philosophy, with the work being used in situations from policing a people to management of upstart workers in an office. And it will continue exerting influence, just as Machiavelli’s name will continue to carry with it less welcome connotations. For readers who wish to climb inside the minds of many of the military geniuses and great statesmen of the past five hundred years, The Prince is a must read; however, it holds little attraction for those who want nothing to do with the sordid deals of Machiavellian politicians.
Thursday, 19 May 2011
Flushed With Pride - Wallace Reyburn
Wallace Reyburn – Flushed With Pride: The Story of Thomas Crapper (1969)
Biography – 95 pages – my copy (hardback; 1989) bought for 50p from the Pannier Market in Plymouth, sometime in 2008
- 1 nod out of 5 -
The world of Toilet History: what fascination. The Worm states this with genuine enthusiasm, having amassed a collection of books on the subject, including works such as Sitting Pretty and The Porcelain God. A suggested title for the Worm’s own study on the toilet was given as Bang, Plop, Flush – but as of yet, this masterwork remains in the draft stage.
One of the most influential and illustrious of toilet history’s stars was Thomas Crapper, the Victorian plumber who was applauded from the Cockneys of London to the Queen of England. Wallace Reyburn here recites Crapper’s life, from his arrival in London as a boy to his royal appointment, including a general overview of the toilet and its plumbing abilities in the late nineteenth century.
It is a book loose on fact and, indeed, so minimal on Crapper himself that the cricket legend W.G.Grace finds space in print, even obtaining a page of illustration himself despite having nothing to do with Crapper’s life (only a tenuous link with this death!). Flushed With Pride is a poor biography, with few and modest jokes, this book quickly came out of print only to find itself in a brighter, more confident edition decades later due to it achieving ‘cult status’. How could this happen? Ah, but the dedication of toilet enthusiasts is strong!
Crapper, perhaps, deserves a biographer with greater skills; but what else could we expect from the author of Bust Up: The Uplifting Tale of Otto Titzling and the Development of the Bra!
Biography – 95 pages – my copy (hardback; 1989) bought for 50p from the Pannier Market in Plymouth, sometime in 2008
- 1 nod out of 5 -
The world of Toilet History: what fascination. The Worm states this with genuine enthusiasm, having amassed a collection of books on the subject, including works such as Sitting Pretty and The Porcelain God. A suggested title for the Worm’s own study on the toilet was given as Bang, Plop, Flush – but as of yet, this masterwork remains in the draft stage.
One of the most influential and illustrious of toilet history’s stars was Thomas Crapper, the Victorian plumber who was applauded from the Cockneys of London to the Queen of England. Wallace Reyburn here recites Crapper’s life, from his arrival in London as a boy to his royal appointment, including a general overview of the toilet and its plumbing abilities in the late nineteenth century.
It is a book loose on fact and, indeed, so minimal on Crapper himself that the cricket legend W.G.Grace finds space in print, even obtaining a page of illustration himself despite having nothing to do with Crapper’s life (only a tenuous link with this death!). Flushed With Pride is a poor biography, with few and modest jokes, this book quickly came out of print only to find itself in a brighter, more confident edition decades later due to it achieving ‘cult status’. How could this happen? Ah, but the dedication of toilet enthusiasts is strong!
Crapper, perhaps, deserves a biographer with greater skills; but what else could we expect from the author of Bust Up: The Uplifting Tale of Otto Titzling and the Development of the Bra!
Sunday, 15 May 2011
Oryx and Crake - Margaret Atwood
Margaret Atwood – Oryx and Crake (2003)
Novel – 420 pages – my copy (paperback) bought from Amazon in 2008
- 4 nods out of 5 -
Oryx and Crake is a disturbing, frightening and entertaining dystopian vision of a possible future of mankind. Set in the no-so distant future, Atwood’s novel follows the life of a boy named Jimmy and his complex and fatal relationships with both Oryx and Crake.
A future in which a privileged few live in their own settlements, away from the pleeb-lands, working on genetic breakthroughs such as pigoons (with many hearts and livers, harvested for humans), wolvogs (the appearance of a dog but with the ferocity of a wolf) and the poor, doomed genetically deformed chickens who are fried for consumption in the form of ChickieNobs:
‘What they were looking at was a large bulblike object that seemed to be covered with stippled whitish-yellow skin. Out of it came twenty thick fleshy tubes, and at the end of each tube another bulb was growing.
“What the hell is it?” said Jimmy
“Those are chickens,” said Crake. “Chicken parts. Just the breasts, on this one. They’ve got ones that specialize in drumsticks too, twelve to a growth unit.”…
“This is horrible,” said Jimmy. The thing was a nightmare. It was like an animal-protein tuber…
“No need for added growth-hormones,” said the woman, “the high growth rate’s built in. You get chicken breast in two weeks – that’s a three-week improvement on the most efficient low-light, high-density chicken farming operation so far devised. And the animal-welfare freaks won’t be able to say a word, because this thing feels no pain.”’
Yet most interesting, by far, is Crake’s own creation: the Crakers. Named after influential figures in history (such as Abraham Lincoln), they are programmed to ‘drop dead at the age of thirty – suddenly, without getting sick. No old age, none of those anxieties. They’ll just keel over’; no longer any racism due to their multi-colours, and:
‘Hierarchy could not exist among them, because they lacked the neural complexes that would have created it. Since they were neither hunters nor agriculturalists hungry for land, there was no territoriality: the king-of-the-castle hard-wiring that had plagued humanity had, in them, been unwired. They ate nothing but leaves and grass and roots and a berry or two; thus the foods were plentiful and always available. Their sexuality was not a constant torment to them, not a cloud of turbulent hormones: they came into heat at regular intervals, as did most mammals other than man.
In fact, as there would never be anything for these people to inherit, there would be no family trees, no marriages, and no divorces. They were perfectly adjusted to their habitat, so they would never have to create houses or tools or weapons, or, for that matter, clothing. They would have no need to invent any harmful symbolisms, such as kingdoms, icons, gods, or money…’
There are many themes within the book – consumerism, technological naivety – though perhaps the key is that of exploitation. Animals are exploited for human gain, the west world exploits the rest, and is Oryx is exploited in her childhood for the financial and sexual pleasure of others. It is this cruel world in which Crake interferes, giving dominance to his own exploited kind, the Crakers.
Atwood ties up this complex mix of ideas into a story well plotted and packed with suspense; we have Jimmy’s alienating childhood, his inability to succeed in the big world, the impending apocalypse, as well as the uncertain future when Jimmy is no longer Jimmy, and Snowman becomes the last bastion of human-kind:
‘Valance. Norn. Serendipity. Pibroch. Lubricious. When they’re gone out of his head, these words, they’ll be gone, everywhere, forever. As if they had never been’.
The novel ends on a cliff-hanger: a do or die moment. The reader is left musing over what becomes; though Atwood has put many a good reader out of their misery by returning to this world once more in a follow up book, Year Of The Flood. This Book Worm is off to purchase a copy, to delve back into the enlightening and chaotic world of Margaret Atwood.
Novel – 420 pages – my copy (paperback) bought from Amazon in 2008
- 4 nods out of 5 -
Oryx and Crake is a disturbing, frightening and entertaining dystopian vision of a possible future of mankind. Set in the no-so distant future, Atwood’s novel follows the life of a boy named Jimmy and his complex and fatal relationships with both Oryx and Crake.
A future in which a privileged few live in their own settlements, away from the pleeb-lands, working on genetic breakthroughs such as pigoons (with many hearts and livers, harvested for humans), wolvogs (the appearance of a dog but with the ferocity of a wolf) and the poor, doomed genetically deformed chickens who are fried for consumption in the form of ChickieNobs:
‘What they were looking at was a large bulblike object that seemed to be covered with stippled whitish-yellow skin. Out of it came twenty thick fleshy tubes, and at the end of each tube another bulb was growing.
“What the hell is it?” said Jimmy
“Those are chickens,” said Crake. “Chicken parts. Just the breasts, on this one. They’ve got ones that specialize in drumsticks too, twelve to a growth unit.”…
“This is horrible,” said Jimmy. The thing was a nightmare. It was like an animal-protein tuber…
“No need for added growth-hormones,” said the woman, “the high growth rate’s built in. You get chicken breast in two weeks – that’s a three-week improvement on the most efficient low-light, high-density chicken farming operation so far devised. And the animal-welfare freaks won’t be able to say a word, because this thing feels no pain.”’
Yet most interesting, by far, is Crake’s own creation: the Crakers. Named after influential figures in history (such as Abraham Lincoln), they are programmed to ‘drop dead at the age of thirty – suddenly, without getting sick. No old age, none of those anxieties. They’ll just keel over’; no longer any racism due to their multi-colours, and:
‘Hierarchy could not exist among them, because they lacked the neural complexes that would have created it. Since they were neither hunters nor agriculturalists hungry for land, there was no territoriality: the king-of-the-castle hard-wiring that had plagued humanity had, in them, been unwired. They ate nothing but leaves and grass and roots and a berry or two; thus the foods were plentiful and always available. Their sexuality was not a constant torment to them, not a cloud of turbulent hormones: they came into heat at regular intervals, as did most mammals other than man.
In fact, as there would never be anything for these people to inherit, there would be no family trees, no marriages, and no divorces. They were perfectly adjusted to their habitat, so they would never have to create houses or tools or weapons, or, for that matter, clothing. They would have no need to invent any harmful symbolisms, such as kingdoms, icons, gods, or money…’
There are many themes within the book – consumerism, technological naivety – though perhaps the key is that of exploitation. Animals are exploited for human gain, the west world exploits the rest, and is Oryx is exploited in her childhood for the financial and sexual pleasure of others. It is this cruel world in which Crake interferes, giving dominance to his own exploited kind, the Crakers.
Atwood ties up this complex mix of ideas into a story well plotted and packed with suspense; we have Jimmy’s alienating childhood, his inability to succeed in the big world, the impending apocalypse, as well as the uncertain future when Jimmy is no longer Jimmy, and Snowman becomes the last bastion of human-kind:
‘Valance. Norn. Serendipity. Pibroch. Lubricious. When they’re gone out of his head, these words, they’ll be gone, everywhere, forever. As if they had never been’.
The novel ends on a cliff-hanger: a do or die moment. The reader is left musing over what becomes; though Atwood has put many a good reader out of their misery by returning to this world once more in a follow up book, Year Of The Flood. This Book Worm is off to purchase a copy, to delve back into the enlightening and chaotic world of Margaret Atwood.
Tuesday, 3 May 2011
Julius Caesar - William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare – Julius Caesar (1599)
Play – read as app from the splendid site playshakespeare.com
- 4 nods out of 5 -
He came, he saw and he conquered… then was promptly stabbed to death. This was the life of Julius Caesar, the man who led the Roman Republic to its end, falling before its rebirth as a large, behemoth empire. The largely unknown playwright Bill Shakespeare (okay, poor joke), made a name of dabbling in the biographies of the past, largely upon English kings; but in Roman antiquity he made these personalities and a vital period in time famous once again to audiences in the modern world.
It is 44 BC and Caesar is the master of Rome. Gone are his enemies, Pompey & Co, and a long period of dictatorship is set to follow his return to the capital. But lying beneath his official rule – where the likes of Mark Antony delight in acclaiming the glorious Caesar – is a growing band of conspirators. The duplicitous Cassius, knowing such a revolt would need solid backing, enlists the help of Brutus, the most honest of all Romans. And it is with a heavy heart that Brutus conspires against his father-figure.
Ignoring a soothsayer’s warning to beware the Ides of March, as well as Artemidorus’ letter (‘If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayest live; if not, the Fates with traitors do contrive’), Caesar walks to the fate of a brutal stabbing. He falls to face the last man, Brutus himself, to ask in his last breath: ‘Et tu, Brute? – Then fall Caesar’. These words commonly applied as: ‘And you, too, Brutus?’ Caesar’s body fails in union with his dejected heart. It is left for the faithful Mark Antony to lament: ‘O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, shrunk to this little measure?’
Combined with Caesar’s assassination, the other outstanding scene in the play is the delivery of Brutus’ and Anthony’s speeches to the people of Rome. Brutus begins, asking his fellow Romans to ‘be patient till the last’, advising them the reason he killed the father figure of Caesar: ‘Not that I lov’d Caesar less, but that I lov’d Rome more….As Caesar lov’d me, I weep for him…but he was ambitious, I slew him’. It is a humble and steadfast speech; yet a speech that is immediately blown out of the water by Anthony’s words to the people, in which the deeds of Caesar are blown beyond the imagination, therefore inflicting acrimonious damage towards Brutus and the conspirators. Rome revolts and Brutus and Cassius flee, only to find meet their deaths at the end of the play during battle against the combined forces of Mark Anthony and Octavius, Caesar’s proclaimed heir.
The combined death toll fits the bill for perfect Shakespearian tragedy; yet there is a bigger victim in the play: Rome and western civilisation itself. Although Julius Caesar has no such definitive character – even the title’s character plays a minor role and is killed half way during proceedings – to match the likes of a Macbeth or a Hamlet, the plot itself shows a greater idea, being the fall of democracy and the rise of dictatorial empire. Such a scenario is all the more relevant in the context of the twentieth century, and a warning that heroic and honest Brutus-like deeds may yet lead to ruin.
Play – read as app from the splendid site playshakespeare.com
- 4 nods out of 5 -
He came, he saw and he conquered… then was promptly stabbed to death. This was the life of Julius Caesar, the man who led the Roman Republic to its end, falling before its rebirth as a large, behemoth empire. The largely unknown playwright Bill Shakespeare (okay, poor joke), made a name of dabbling in the biographies of the past, largely upon English kings; but in Roman antiquity he made these personalities and a vital period in time famous once again to audiences in the modern world.
It is 44 BC and Caesar is the master of Rome. Gone are his enemies, Pompey & Co, and a long period of dictatorship is set to follow his return to the capital. But lying beneath his official rule – where the likes of Mark Antony delight in acclaiming the glorious Caesar – is a growing band of conspirators. The duplicitous Cassius, knowing such a revolt would need solid backing, enlists the help of Brutus, the most honest of all Romans. And it is with a heavy heart that Brutus conspires against his father-figure.
Ignoring a soothsayer’s warning to beware the Ides of March, as well as Artemidorus’ letter (‘If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayest live; if not, the Fates with traitors do contrive’), Caesar walks to the fate of a brutal stabbing. He falls to face the last man, Brutus himself, to ask in his last breath: ‘Et tu, Brute? – Then fall Caesar’. These words commonly applied as: ‘And you, too, Brutus?’ Caesar’s body fails in union with his dejected heart. It is left for the faithful Mark Antony to lament: ‘O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, shrunk to this little measure?’
Combined with Caesar’s assassination, the other outstanding scene in the play is the delivery of Brutus’ and Anthony’s speeches to the people of Rome. Brutus begins, asking his fellow Romans to ‘be patient till the last’, advising them the reason he killed the father figure of Caesar: ‘Not that I lov’d Caesar less, but that I lov’d Rome more….As Caesar lov’d me, I weep for him…but he was ambitious, I slew him’. It is a humble and steadfast speech; yet a speech that is immediately blown out of the water by Anthony’s words to the people, in which the deeds of Caesar are blown beyond the imagination, therefore inflicting acrimonious damage towards Brutus and the conspirators. Rome revolts and Brutus and Cassius flee, only to find meet their deaths at the end of the play during battle against the combined forces of Mark Anthony and Octavius, Caesar’s proclaimed heir.
The combined death toll fits the bill for perfect Shakespearian tragedy; yet there is a bigger victim in the play: Rome and western civilisation itself. Although Julius Caesar has no such definitive character – even the title’s character plays a minor role and is killed half way during proceedings – to match the likes of a Macbeth or a Hamlet, the plot itself shows a greater idea, being the fall of democracy and the rise of dictatorial empire. Such a scenario is all the more relevant in the context of the twentieth century, and a warning that heroic and honest Brutus-like deeds may yet lead to ruin.
Friday, 29 April 2011
New Selected Poems - Seamus Heaney
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.
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.
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