FIVE THINGS: Mrs Olifant's Salem Chapel

A favourite adage of mine is: so many books, so little time. Which is to say life is too short to spend on a book you are not enjoying. And yet, I persisted with this one. It was very hard work. Harder work than reading any novel should be. I cannot recall ever having rolled my eyes as I finished a book before.


Indeed, you may wonder, why did I finish the book if it was so difficult to finish. Simple answer: my reading challenge for the year. The past three years I have set myself reading challenges which consist of a long list of criteria on which I base my reading choices. This has actually been helpful as I own far too many books (see Umberto Eco's notion of the anti-library) and it has been all too often overwhelming simply to choose which book to read. So the reading challenge was the reason I exercised what felt like a lot of determination to finish this book.

I am doubly annoyed as this is the second, 'greenback' Virago as I call them, in a row which I have not enjoyed, The last one, I did not even bother to finish. The main cause then was an annoying character.

However, for what it's worth, my five things on this book, not all bad (although mostly):

1. The plot was unexpected, I must admit that. The story did not go at all as I expected. There was a twist, and some intrigue. that was surprising and initially I did enjoy the book. Alas, that did not last.

2. As I noted in another blogpost - it was rather pleasing when this novel was mentioned in another novel I happened to be reading. Clearly a classic and certainly a favourite of many (as a quick perusal of the Goodreads ratings indicated). Fair enough. I nevertheless invoke what I call the Hobsbawm Mona Lisa principle. Not everything appeals or speaks to everyone. It happens.

3. It felt as though it took quite a lot of determination on my part to finish this book. I did so to satisfy the criteria in my reading challenge to read two books published prior to the 20th century. This is the first of those two books this year. Truth is I am not particularly fond of such classics, though am at times pleasantly surprised. Result is that my list of classics read is very, very short. I have caught up with several Jane Austen books the last few years, but on Dickens, Thomas Hardy and the such I am short. I have only read a George Eliot novella. I think I will nevertheless rather stick to such better known authors going forward. Or put another way: no more of Mrs. Olifant's books for me.

4. The only character I found remotely interesting was Mrs. Hilyard/Mildmay. The rest were superficial fluff and simply uninteresting. The main character, Arthur Vincent was simply exasperating. He is one of the most self-occupied pathetic characters I have come across for a while Even the annoying Angel in Elizabeth Taylor's book with the same name had more substance to her, as unlikable as she was. Too many characters were too lost in their own preoccupations to be able to any basic social skills. All the rest were too shallow to be of any interest at all.

5. The ending, was then just to perfect, wrapped up in a bow. Yuck.

In fact, I refuse to spend another second on this book. Disappointing, and like a bad taste in one's mouth, I really need to find something good to read. If I am unlucky, I doubt I will have the determination to finish reading yet another book which is not worth the time.

Fortunately I am already (as I usually have several books I read at the same time) reading the charming Bridge of birds by Barry Hughart. Now I need to clear my palate, in a manner of speaking and pick that one up. Onwards and upwards.

FIVE THINGS: Kautsky's The dictatorship of the proletariat

I have long fancied myself an academic wannabe of sorts. Essentially if I have one regret in life it is that I waited so long to do my Masters degree, and that I missed the opportunity, possibly to have become a researcher or academic. Nevertheless, I did realise when I finally got around to my postgraduate degree a few years ago that I love theories which attempt to explain the world and can get a surprising amount of energy from the intellectual stimulation which comes from tackling such theories. As a result I am making a concerted effort to improve my education, one could say - my learning journey, as it were.

I recently finished two Norwegian books which basically gave précis of a wide range of thinkers. The first was Demokratisk beredskap which considered thinkers who stood against totalitarianism, both on the right and the left. The people included in this book ranged from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Raymond Aron and George Orwell, as well as a few Norwegians such as Odd Nansen, son of the better known Fridtjof Nansen. This was the book that first introduced me to Karl Kautsky, student of Karl Marx, but perhaps more significantly, opponent of Lenin and Trotsky, and the Bolshevik notion of the dictatorship of the proletariat. So, I got hold of the very pamphlet with the same name and have now read it. And herewith, my "five things" on that.

1. It is quite fascinating to consider socialism as an inherently democratic organisation of society. This contradicts the framing I have heard my entire life. This includes undergraduate courses in sociology. Well, perhaps not so much was said about socialism, but certainly I have the distinct impression that Marx was a communist, and communism is the dictatorship of the proletariat. Nary a word was said about Lenin though. So Kautsky's posit that democracy is a sine qua non of socialism was a fairly new idea to me. Certainly one I approve of wholeheartedly. Suddenly I may consider the whole "democratic socialism" claims of Bernie Saunders supporters in the US differently. Although, if I cling rigidly to what I understand Kautsky to be saying, that phrase is in fact a tautology.

2. Which in turn raises an interesting question as to why Leninism was so long supported in Europe by the left wing of Europe following the Russian revolution and throughout the 20th Century. Even here in Norway, one of our parties has yet to address to the satisfaction of many their Leninist-totalitarian roots. However, both Demokratisk beredskap and a subsequent book I read - Ideologienes århundre both indicate that Kautsky was largely marginalised in terms of Marxist thinking. Lenin won the framing war on the revolution and communism/socialism. (To understand what I mean by framing, read Don't think of an elephant by George Lakoff). Now there is a research topic, just there - the relationship between framing and hegemonic discourses.

3. Kautsky claims that Karl merely used the phrase "the dictatorship of the proletariat" once, and then in passing in a letter in 1875 (Kautsky, 1919: 42). This was the hook on which the entirety of the Soviet communism was hung as it were. Now this is a blog, and it is after all almost three decades since I first studied Marx, but it must surely be telling that I have such a strong association between precisely Marx and the notion of the "dictatorship of the proletariat". It leads me wonder about the academic rigour of this linkage which I at least take for granted. I am by no means an expert, but perhaps it is fair to assume that as someone who has considered herself quite left wing in my political beliefs my entire life, I may be a tad better informed than those who are to my right on the political scale. (Naturally, I have no basis to make such an assertion, but for argument's sake and should just not. Let's just leave it at the fact that I have learnt something from reading this book which I did not know before).

4. The ends justify the means? Kautsky contrasts the state of the societies in Western Europe versus precisely Russia and refers to the tradition and culture of democracy in each case. Which is possibly why I find the high level of support in Western Europe communist circles for Leninism (and even more so Stalinism) so intriguing. The only rationale reason I can come up with the idea that the ends justify the means. In this case, the final goal is the end of capitalism and the socialisation of the means of production. A very economic analysis (and for this I look forward to finishing the other book I happen to be reading at present, Karl Marx's Ecosocialism  - watch this space for more on that).

5. Kautsky was wrong about a few things, but perhaps not everything. When one consider's the state of Russia today, they are not exactly a robust democracy, it may be warranted to note that Russia has at no point in its history had the opportunity to develop a sturdy democratic culture. Which leads me to wonder whether democracy is as natural human condition as it should be. The trajectory of history in Western Europe has certainly called into question whether democracy was a natural stepping stone to socialism. Certainly, while I have the distinct impression that there is more evidence that socialism would allow for better societal welfare, Western societies have shown themselves more prone to liberal capitalism, even neo-liberal capitalism, even countries well on their way to socialism, as envisaged by Kautsky, like the Scandinavian countries. Furthermore, now in 2019, democratic principles do seem a mite more vulnerable than one would have thought possible. It is disquieting.

So an interesting read, and hopefully I will be able to continue my sojourn to finally plug those holes I have been wondering about. Better late than never after all.

My learning journey continues.

Pictures: Demokratisk beredskap cover, dreyersforlag.no and Picture of Karl Kautsky

Kautskay, Karl (1919) The dictatorship of the proletariat,
Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood publishers (1981 reprint)

FIVE THINGS - Death's End by Liu Cixin

Seems like the easiest blogs for me to write are my book reivews. So herewith another.

Death's End by the Chinese writer Liu Cixin is the final book in The Three Body Problem trilogy. A trilogy which seems also to be known as the Remembrance of Earth's Past trilogy. In and of itself interest, as the latter name makes sense at the end of the third book, while the former name makes more sense at the start. Book one is The Three Body Problem, and book two is The Dark Forest. The impression one may get from the start, that it is about how the Earth fights against the Trisolaris aliens from outer space is only partially correct. In fact the "dark forest" hypothesis, as introduced in the second book turns out to be more indicative of the journey one takes over. This blog post is however not about the trilogy, but only about the final book. If for no other reason than because it is such a dense book in and of itself.

1.  I am making a concerted effort to read more among other things more non-Western authors. I suspect my expectations were a bit high for this book though, as I would have loved to gained some mystical insight into the differences between the Oriental and Occidental worlds in this book. Not particularly aware that I did. I had great hopes when a key point seems to be how not being taught Eastern style painting is key to defeating a villain. I am not aware of any particular insight in this respect. It was also somewhat disappointing that the existence of Africa was not mentioned. I could accept it not being a central part of the theme, but it was reminiscent of the erasure of an entire continent in what is otherwise a story with global implications. Not a good look.

2. The book(s) cover a lot oft time. Ultimately millions of years! The chief protagonist of the final book, Cheng Xin, is used to illustrate one key theme of this book: the fickleness and inconsistency of humans. Not sure it is however, as well implemented as it could have been.

3. One aspect I did enjoy was the consideration of deterrence as defense. [Warning: potential spoiler ahead]. While one person cannot bring themselves to "push the button" when the time comes, others do. Yes, a democratic decision as opposed to the responsibility of the globe placed on one person. My own reaction was food for thought. It is easy when it is just a book, but it made me realise that it is a very complex question.

4. Stereotypes. It was interesting that it felt as though the book did contain particular stereotypes. Between men and women. Also, I am fairly certain that virtually throughout the trilogy, all men from the US are archetypal and ruthless "hawks". The Chinese characters are much more varied and nuanced.

5. Enjoyed the first half of the book more than the latter. In the end it felt as though the writer was trying to do too much. I suppose that the anthropologist/ethnologist in me would have preferred some more depth rather than literally eons passing in the space of a few pages. So a bit disappointing in the end, but nevertheless all in all an enjoyable read. I would tend to recommend the trilogy.

Extra "thing": cosmo-engineering! Why worry about geo-engineering in that case?

Quotes from the book:

"Behind them, the blue flag of the UN took up most of the picture. The text on the poster read: Let us build a new Great Wall for the Solar System with our flesh!" (p. 296)


Death is the only lighthouse that is always lit. No matter where you sail, ultimately, you must turn toward it. Everything fades in the world, but Death endures.” (p.379)


A museum was built for visitors; a tombstone was built for the builders. (p.510)

Liu, Cixin. Death's End (The Three-Body Problem) Head of Zeus. Kindle Edition.

FIVE THINGS - Val McDermid's A dark domain

So herewith my second "five things" book review. This time it is a crime book - a genre I have vociferously for my entire reading life! To this day I recall that the first book I read which was more text than pictures was The clue of the crossword cipher by Carolyn Keene - a Nancy Drew mystery. I read that about 39 years ago! I was no wiser as to what a cipher was by the end of the book as at the start, but I have been a firm and fast fan of crime ever since. I can even tell you which of Agatha Christie's books I read first: Murder is Easy. I watched a movie on TV starring Bill Bixby. Do not ask me how I remember these things, with somethings my brain is like velcro. Not with others, but anyway, to the book at hand.

This is my second Val McDermid, and also the second I am reading which featured Karen Pirie. Yes, I am trying to read crime books featuring the same sleuths in order.

Here are my "five things":
1. I don't suppose it is particularly surprising that what seems to be two separate cases that Detective Inspector Pirie investigates during the first part of the book at some point must converge. My favourite books are those which surprise me in one or other way. How these two stories intersect was unfortunately not that, even for the ever so slight twist in the tale in the end. This does not mean I didn't enjoy the book, I did. Part of the joy is precisely to try to predict these things.

2. There are parts of the story which were a tad melodramatic. Such is life however and again, the book was still very enjoyable and I would recommend it.

3. There was a bit of inconsistency in the story. I suspect that I am on the outlook for such much more than I was before and this was the first time I really noticed one such case. It was a necessary device for the story, but it was nevertheless an inconsistency. (Ask me in the comments if you are curious what I identify as this. I am trying not to write any spoilers for some reason).

4. I enjoy Karen Pirie as a character. She is intelligent and yet I am not sure whether it is her self-image or whether she really is particularly dumpy physically, it is nevertheless she is a character I would enjoying meeting in the real world. That is not something I experience all that often. I am reminded of Elly Griffith's character Ruth Galloway, who is also physically not model material. I am not sure I enjoy her personality enough, but it is useful that there are non-Barbie doll (Nancy Drew?) slim and slender heroines in such books. And (warning: spoiler ahead): Karen gets her man.

5. All in all, as I have said above: a sufficiently satisfying book. And ultimately that is what counts.

FIVE THINGS - Rocannon's world by Ursula le Guin

I read a fair amount of books (so far 65 this year) and have lately complained a bit about books which I have not enjoyed. However I enjoy the vast majority of what I read, so am going to try a "Five things about..." books that I read as a means of reviewing them. My first will be Rocannon's world by Ursula le Guin.

I loved it. For whatever reason the only le Guin's I have actually read thus far have been the first four Earthsea books. Given, however, that I have the last three years been rediscovering and immersing myself in the science fiction and fantasy genres, it was simply a matter of time before Ursula le Guin came up again. This was her first full length novel, published in 1966. 

So herewith, five things:

1. The start reminded me a bit of Doris Lessing's Re. Colonised Planet 5: Shikasta (published 1979). I tried to read the book earlier this year, but despite Lessing's as always, beautiful prose, did not manage. The ethnological approach was reminiscent. Le Guin's book however has an actual storyline, and it probably does not hurt that it is much, much shorter.

2. One of my favourite things about le Guin's books is that a key people group or character is always dark-skinned. In this case the Angyar, to whom the heroes in the book belong, as well as, the original Liuar peoples - as described in this quote towards the end of the book: "“Gold-haired, dark-skinned, a tall-people, the old stock of which the Angyar were only a tribe that long ago had wandered north by sea: these were the Liuar, the Earthlords, living since before the memory of any race here in the foothills of the mountains and the rolling plains to the south.”: It is accurate given what we know about human origins, and if representation matters, then this matters.

 3. I love that this book is a fusion of fantasy (with animals such as windsteeds) and science fiction (interplanetary travel).

4. The good guys win. Even if an entire people group is surgically obliterated. Perhaps a bit simplistic, but it is a novel of less than 140 pages from 1966,

5. Favourite lines:

"“swearing destruction and extinction to the enemy in a torrent of metaphor and a thunder of hyperbole”

"“This was no place for an ethnologist of forty-three.”

Just magic.

The Hobsbawm-Mona Lisa principle. Or just a bad book?

It is hard to judge how critical one is. I have at least long since decided that life is too short for books that are too enjoyable. Books may be so for a variety of reasons. Mostly if I simply struggle to get into the story, as it were, and that persists, then I give up. There are too many books left to be read to waste time on that which requires more energy than it provides. Reading should definitely be a net gain in terms of returns.

Sometimes I think it is simply because not every book can (or should) "speak" to the reader. This is the point at which I invoke what I have titled above as the "Hobsbawm-Mona Lisa principle". It stands to reason that given my personal beliefs, the writings of the leftist historian Eric Hobsbawm should be right up my alley, as they say. I do however find him a bit difficult to read. I did however manage to read his autobiography Interesting Times. In that book he writes the following upon viewing the Mona Lisa in the Louvre: "But she did not speak my language". I thought that brilliant. In a few words he captured a feeling I also had felt when I finally saw the Mona Lisa myself. Not to mention a sense I had when viewing or reading many famous works of art or books. At that moment it somehow became permissible to just not enjoy everything that everyone else does. You enjoy what you enjoy, period.

So that is a principle I also adhere to when reading books. It is not a reflection on the book in question, it is simply one of those things.

This is of course, not to imply that there are no badly written books. There are many reasons why I may struggle to get into a book or otherwise decide to put it aside. I am at the moment struggling to get into a novel, and to my chagrin put aside C.J. Cherryh's Fortress of Eagles. That had absolutely no relation to anything of the above, it is one of the books I have abandoned that I am quite sure I will try again. The timing was simply off,  that also happens.

However, to the book in question for this post - Charles Todd's Wing of fire. Putting aside my annoyance that a mother and son writing team write under the name of the son, this is the second book featuring Inspector Ian Rutledge. (Perhaps also wondering why USians must write series based in a country they do not live in. Did no soldiers from the US suffer from shell shock? I digress and concede that I might be surprised if this does not make me appear more critical than I clearly would like to). I managed to read the first book, and I think it was fine. I was not a particular fan of "Hamish" I recalled as soon as I started reading this one, but the entire concept, of a historical crime set in the twentieth century should be one that I enjoy. Except that I did not enjoy this. Hamish aside, it was just poorly written. Not the language (there are editors for that), but the story. Already in chapter four there is a character who in the one instant is trying to bully and intimidate Inspector Rutledge into giving up an investigation and yet in the next is accusing his step-sister, one of the deceased of a triple murder! Furthermore the aforementioned Inspector Rutledge seems to accept this rant at face value, only pausing to point out the lack of evidence for his accusations. At no point does it occur to him to question why this man has no qualms about accusing someone, in two cases a mere child of seemingly cold-blooded murder, and this on a fairly thin basis. This followed by the unmitigated admiration for a titled widow simply oozed precisely USian stereotypes of the UK during that time.

Now that my own rant is complete, I would add that I did read the first novel in a series by the same author(s) featuring one Bess Crawford, which I rather enjoyed. I suspect (assume/hope) the author(s) have in fact matured in the course of their writings - the latter book was after all published some thirteen years after the first Inspector Rutledge, and eleven after Wings of Fire. I have nevertheless decided to abandon Inspector Rutledge forthwith. Which is a bit of a pity. Perhaps I will reconsider. Time will tell. Either way, in this case, it feels like a combination of the Hobsbawm-Mona Lisa principle (perhaps henceforth the HML principle?) and that the book was just not well written. Or I am becoming more critical, and not necessarily in a bad way.

Time to decolonise South African history

I grew up in South Africa during apartheid. Which means my education has significant gaps, not least of which is the history of my own country. As part of my self-education, and also so as to be able to engage with my father, who is obviously also a product of the Union of South Africa, I started reading a book I bought a while ago, The History of South Africa, by one Frank Welsh.

I purchased the book quite a while ago (as I am wont to do - books need to gather a fair amount of dust in my bookshelves before I embark on reading them). Perhaps before I underwent my own awakening as to the racism and white supremacy of my upbringing and childhood world. (Yes, it was apartheid South Africa, but to the best of their ability raised me to know that all people were equal and that our society was deeply unjust and wrong). Nevertheless, despite already getting rid of Martin Meredith's The state of Africa for its distinct colonial 'whiteness', I decided to give Frank Welsh a shot.

It has been interesting, and not as bad as Meredith's book. It provides a fair amount of information as to the history of black (and brown) South Africans which was exactly what I was after. I realised that I would have to accept that it could not be comprehensive (what exactly is the relationship between the Xhosa and the Thembu? Where did the Griqua's come from?), but it was not bad.

Except for one thing. He is far too comfortable using archaic terms which in this day and age are simply offensive and inappropriate. I am not even convinced that it would be necessary to quote writers who use it, but when he uses a term when not quoting? Why? WHY?? (In case you're wondering I refer to use of the k-word and - the camel that broke the straw's back, as it were - the n-word as well!).

I put the book aside this afternoon, irritated and after a few hours I realise that I simply have no further interest in reading it any further. I feel a mite intolerant, perhaps, but really, it is 2019. It is time for a decolonised historical narrative which breaks from the past. Even if the book was first published twenty years ago, these were not terms which were acceptable even then. It is time for literature and history which explains and creates a new decolonised and respectful narrative. We do not have to use terms which are offensive and hurtful to people. This book is not that. I am not sure such a book even exists.

Perhaps it is up to me to write it in that case. This book, though by far not overtly racist or even particularly biased is nevertheless headed for the bin.

Or maybe not. I have been searching (my whole life) for a writing project. Perhaps I have just found it.

Annoying characters: Angel

Life is too short. Furthermore, I have literally thousands of books in my own library which I have yet to read. Consequently, if I am not sufficiently drawn into the story of a book, or if I simply not enjoying the book, I waste no further time on it.

Nevertheless, I must confess to being somewhat discomfited. Not too long ago it was the Booker award-winning The Sea, the sea by Iris Murdoch which I was not able to finish. The reason: the main character was simply too annoying.

I am therefore additionally perturbed now to give up on Elizabeth Taylor's Angel. (In case you are wondering, this author has absolutely no relation to the much more famous actress by the same name). This is my second book of hers, as an author published by Virago, a publishing house I generally take as a guarantee of a book I am more likely than not to enjoy. Among their authors I have loved include Antonia White, Rosamond Lehmann, Margaret Atwood and Nina Bawden. I collect what I for some reason call the "greenback" editions (see the picture).

I thoroughly enjoyed the first Elizabeth Taylor I read: Hester Lilly. In this one however the character whose name also serves as the title, Angel, or Angelica Deverell, is simply too annoying. I managed a whole 52 pages before she behaved exactly as I feared. Nicely summed up by the line:

"No," said Angel. 

So did I.

The character is the most selfish and egotistical character I have come across in a while. No redeeming charms within those pages at any rate.  I even tried to like her as I harbour secret dreams of becoming an author myself. In some respects it reminds me of The curious incident of the dog at night time by Mark Haddon. Also a widely acclaimed book. The emotionally sterile character (who is autistic) was a stretch too much for me though. Perhaps it is precisely the emotion I connect with. I shall consider this further. 

In stressing times I am acutely aware of my propensity to prefer crime or speculative theory, as they are more engrossing. It concerns me however if I am losing my ability to enjoy well written literature. This will need to be tested.

"Dit is 'n rots waarop ons huisie staan"

Compliments of twelve years of schooling in apartheid South Africa, I have twelve years of Afrikaans as a second language. Although, it was in fact my third. Nothing to compare to the nine languages which Mathews Phosa speaks. So all the more interesting that he introduces this book of Afrikaans poetry by stating that he considers Afrikaans to be a mother tongue of sorts ("Die feit dat ek in Afrikaans skryf, is 'n uitvloeisel daarvan dat ek my skoolopvoeding feitlik eksklusief in Afrikaans ontvang het en dat ek Afrikaans as 'n soort modertaal in my lewe beskou"). I find myself strangely moved that he enjoys the language sufficiently to write poetry in it.

It is almost three decades since I left school, and without a doubt my Afrikaans is extremely rusty. Now that I live in a country where another Germanic language is spoken, I am amazed I was not more confused as a child, given that my mother tongue, in the sense of being the language one learns from one's mother knee is Norwegian.

I can see the connections much more clearly than I did before. I am surprised I was not more confused, considering how much I mix my English and Norwegian, I would certainly have more problems now. It has, nevertheless, been an interesting exercise to try out my Afrikaans now, and I am not dissatisfied with the results. Back to the book itself.

His intention is fairly shameless: versoening. Reconciliation. I am not exactly the target audience, but I must admit to being simply touched to read a black South African, who has every reason to hate the language nevertheless to use it to write, of all things, poetry. Given the instrument of oppression which the language cannot but signify in lights of how it was wielded, especially in 1976, it is not pretty amazing in my book. While I identify as "English South African", there is no avoiding the fact that I am simply a Euro-South African. My father, who has an interest in genealogy, informs me that in addition to English (from Lancashire), we also enjoy a French, Dutch and German  ancestry. Now that is about as South African as one can get as a Euro-African. My great-grandmother was a small child in a British concentration camp in the South African war (1899-1902) - something I consider give me impeccable (white) South African credentials. So reading poetry in that language is a pleasing experience.

Did Mathews Phosa succeed in his attempts? Who knows. I made the decision not to know when I left the country almost a decade ago, overwhelmed as I felt, by the general white attitudes as I perceived them around me. I must have bought this book around that time. In many respects South Africa has come far. In others, it has not. In some respects, even though I am only just starting the poetry itself, the title itself seems quite prophetic. The title surely refers to the occasion in the gospels of the Bible where Jesus says that it would easier for a camel to go through the eye of a (the) needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God. The point being that it would be difficult. Likewise I suspect the poet also knew that achieving his intention to stretch a hand of reconciliation ('n versoeningshand as it were) would be as hard.

Then again, nothing ventured, nothing gained. This little book of poetry will be a treasured part of my library irrespective.

Mathews Phosa - Deur die oog van 'n naald
1996
Tafelberg - Kaapstad.

I read Science Fiction

Until fairly recently I have not, in fact, been an avid reader of science fiction. Somehow Donald Trump, of all people, changed that.

Oddly enough it was the book Calculating God by Robert Sawyer which hit the nail on the head as to why I have always been a fan of 'whodunnit 'literature. The need for justice. For the bad guy (or girl) to be caught in the end. I have never been a fan of books where there was no meting out of justice at all.

Then there was Donald Trump. And somehow, science fiction, somehow, seemed as apt. Books which set in another future time provided commentary on the challenges and situations we find ourselves facing now. Although I do recall trying to re-read 1984 by George Orwell after his election and not quite succeeding.

But as an effort to re-invigorate this blog I have decided to try to write more about books which I read. And today, I have read Carnival by Elizabeth Bear. It was fabulous.

So, where to start?


Gender. I realised when reading Karen Lord's The best of all possible worlds recently that I do in fact enjoy characters which do not conform to the gender binary. In that book, it is a gender ambiguous character. In this book it is both in terms of sexuality and gender roles. The main characters are a homosexual couple, Angelo and Vincent. Their world does not permit homosexuality and yet they are reunited, after a 17 year separation for a mission to New Amazonia. As the name might give away, that is a planet where women are the dominant gender. And on that world it is better to be a "gentle" man, which is to say homosexual one infers. In that sense is a sweet love story. I also enjoyed the character of Kii. Although while the characters in the book assume Kii to be male, somehow I felt that Kii was neither male nor female (or if impossible to conceive without gender binary, I somehow assumed Kii to be female rather than male!)

Power. New Amazonia is dominated by women, but is equally characterised by a wide range of factions and disagreement. The Coalition, for who Vincent and Angelo are emissaries, are ultimately controlled by the Governors. Who turn out to be Artificial Intelligence who ultimately ensure that ecological limitations are respected, with all the ruthlessness one would expect from AI. A surprising power actor in the book turns out to be the Consent. As well as Kii. (In fact, it is not clear to me why the book has the name it has, 'The Consent' may have been the better name IMO). Themes are how much power humans can be trusted with. There is also, in my view, a hint of including the idea of our need for a transcendental power.

Power also becomes a factor determining honesty in relationships with the people one loves.

Finally, what also struck me was a red thread of genetic manipulation as warfare.

Ultimately, an excellent read. I will definitely read Elizabeth Bear again (this was my first).

"After the party" by Andrew Feinstein

Hmmm, you know that you may need to reconsider being a blogger when it is so long since you have been to your own site that you have forgotten the name of your site! How embarrassing.

Nevertheless I cannot quite give up on blogging. It is not lack of ideas, it is rather just tricky to remember them and most of all sit down and do the writing.

It is already April, but neverthless a new year (at least in terms of my blogs), so here we go again.

FOr my "opening shot" - I have just finished reading "After the Party". First and foremost it confirms what I have already known (and this is not what you think!). I really do not follow things that closely. Perhaps it is remarkable that despite working for the South African government for almost a decade that I am so incredibly ignorant of its political workings! After a mere two years in Norway I feel as though I am better informed here than I was there. To be honest I cannot be sure.

Nevertheless, it was both fascinating and distressing to read more about the Arms deal. Of course all the things which I did notice now make much greater sense. It really is very disturbing and makes me quite sad. I think I am quite ambivalent whether it would have been better to have known this when making my decision to leave. On reflection I think that I am glad that I made the decision on personal grounds. The "inklings" which I had are unrelated.

I tried to read the book somewhat critically, yet I have no major criticisms against the author. I am bemused by his obvious admiration for Vlaclav Havel and Edward Said (who are both quoted on several occasions) and am tempted to read the former myself. I respect the fact that he somehow manages to not vilify anyone (which with my view and perception of whites South Africans is quite admirable) and the real bad guys are without a doubt the arms industry. This in no way causes problems with my own worldview.

I think that the one area which I found lacking was that of the role of culture. Is it coincidental that he and Gavin Woods come out as the crusaders for truth in this story. I can understand why it is not his place to go into detail as to the ultimate fate of some of the other players (like Laloo, who makes up a trio with Feinstein and Woods initially, but somehow disappears, something which I consider with some foreboding). Given the complexity of the "Rainbow nation" in terms of its multicultural population, I personally think that this is also a major factor in how things have played out. (Note, I in NO WAY consider any culture to be better than any other, quite to the contrary I think that every culture has significant strengths and weaknesses. Cultures, like most things, can also benefit from a dialectic process whereby they can build on their strengths and work on their weaknesses).

I also am amazed that the author manages to retain such idealism, though I sincerely hope that he is no longer naive (how can someone who has been through what he has remain so?). Which is why I respect his idealism and certainly see the logic of much of what he posits is required to ensure that any country avoid such a quagmire in the future as this entire saga has, is and I fear may continue to be for a while to come.

On a final note, I could not help but chuckle as the irony of Menzi Simelane's appointment to head the National Prosecuting Agency after Vusi Pikoli became apparent. In fact if it wasn't so tragic it is nothing less than quite absurd. I found myself wondering if it was not his reward for being the scapegoat, while other fish swam away unhurt.

A good read indeed. (Buy it here at Amazon)

Eight things that made their mark on me from ”The Autobiography of Malcolm X.”

1. Am I sure I am not a racist? One is the product of the context of one’s life, and I grew up in apartheid South Africa – a white South African. It would therefore perhaps not be any surprise that I have been quite petrified of being considered a racist. (At least as it pertains to ”black” people, less worried about being disparaging about ”whites”!). Nevertheless, this book was quite tough to real, especially in the beginning – where the author is quite candid about his feelings about white people, all white people. Which put me on the defensive, quite decisively so! However in the end I made peace with it. The truth was that I could understand it. We all do the best we can.

2. An indictment of Christianity – This book does not make me proud of my fellow Christians. Why is it that we have participated and perpetuated so much racism within the Christian church? I just do not understand! It is shameful, and something which needs much repentance.

3. Why he was Malcom X – I hate to sound pretentious, but I was actually moved when it emerged why he changed his name from Malcolm Little to Malcolm X. It is a dramatic indictment on the history of African-Americans. Nor can I look away from the irony of his original surname: Little. I could not think of a less appropriate name for this particular man, who was anything, but.

4. Thinking for yourself: there is no doubt that Malcolm X was a phenomenal man. Yet I am not sure that I will be able to fully appreciate what it was about him. If for no other reason that my the draw of genetics, I am a ”white”. A white South African at that. Yet even I could sense a greatness about him. What struck me the most, however, was the realisation that great men do not spring full grown from the head of Zeus! They are the product of their lives, and Malcolm X was no exception. It was particularly striking when he realises that he has not been thinking for himself, but rather blindly been following Elijah Mohammed’s thinking. Even Malcolm X had to figure out what he himself thought about things for himself.

5. Racism in 2010: Reading books by black consciousness writers have been defnining moments in my life. When I read ”I write what I like” by Steve Biko, I discovered that one of my colleagues at university at the time had been a fellow detainee and torturer victim of Steve Biko. This brought the evils of apartheid home to me such that I have spent years working on reconciling myself with the fact that, like it or not, I am a white South African. This book was also amongst the most thought provoking I can remember reading. At more or less the same time as I read this book two racist-related things hit the media. In one an African-American employee of the Department of Agriculture in the US was forced out of her job as she was perceived to be racist, i.e. towards whites. As it turned out she was anything but, and the entire affair is mind-boggling. At the same time a South African born writer was accused of racism when an article he wrote was perceived as juxtaposing car guards with baboons. I have to admit I needed to be explained where the racism lay in the article, as I did not see it myself. This latter situation made me realise that one has to accept that where so much racism has been sown over the years, there is a harvest which is being reaped! It is that simple, but means that we are no nearer to a non-racist society.

6. Who was the real Malcolm X? I did some research on the book and discovered that it is not without contraversy. There are those who believe that Alex Haley (who is apparently a more conservative African American) has ”coloured” the Malcolm X of the last chapter of the book. I am a bit sceptical of the completely changed Malcolm X, it is just a bit too much somehow. An example is that earlier in the book he contends that the biggest challenge for a interracial couple would not be the white community, but the black community’s response. However in the end, he no longer this an interracial relationship is problematic. Just because he no longer believes that white people are the devil incarnate does not mean that there would be nuanced responses to an interracial relationship. For someone who has analysed racial relations as much as Malcolm X it seems a completely unnuanced about-turn. I am just dubious, I like the human, struggling Malcolm X, I thought he was a worthy hero. Not so sure about the saint in the last chapters of the book.

7. There is something to be said about knowing something about famous people. I realised that there are so many famous people that I actually do not know anything about, other than that they are famous (and why they are famous). I certainly feel richer knowing more about who Malcolm Little/X was.

8. Know yourself. There is nothing like reading someone else’s journey through their life – and the book is written in such a way that you develop along with Malcolm X into who he became – to make you wonder about your own journey. As the sugar packets in South Africa from Hewletts say: Life is not a destination, but a journey.

‘Shalimar the Clown’ – by Salman Rushdie

I love books. So much so when things get too much in my life (and it’s been too much for a while now) I seriously consider whether I shouldn’t just give it all up and study to be a librarian. I love just sitting and going through my books, deciding which books I need to read first in order to make space for the two boxes that I’ve never quite managed to unpack (due to lack of space) since I’ve moved in. This, in spite of the five or so bookshelves, admittedly of vastly differing sizes, which I have in my tiny apartment.

So in an effort to “make space” I embarked on “Shalimar the Clown” by Salman Rushdie. I got the gift a few years ago as a gift from two dear friends, but somehow hadn’t got around to reading it. (I have a terrible habit of increasing my book collection at a much faster rate than I read). However, convinced that I would, if I finished it at all, be getting rid of it, I started on it.

I have to mention that I did start reading a Salman Rushdie a few years ago (“Fury”), but did not get very far. (If I do not enjoy the book fairly quickly, I don’t persevere long – too many books, so little time). I almost gave up on this one two, but for some reason, perhaps because Salman Rushdie has the distinction of having won the “Booker of Bookers” (for Midnight’s Children), I persisted.

I would by no means characterise the book as a particularly easy read. Nevertheless I found it mesmerizing, and perhaps if I had just dug in, I would have read it quicker. It is somehow beautifully written (I cannot remember the last time I had such a view of a book written by a man!).

It is a book about vengeance and the close relationship between hatred and love. It is about the East and West. It is about two men, “freedom-fighters” to some. It is about two women, a mother and daughter.

It is a questioning of Western notions of individual freedoms, and yet each character is a complete, individual human being. It is about consequences and prisons, both internal and external. It is about the inter-connectedness of families and lovers. It is about the spiritual aspects of the emotional human condition. It is about the vulnerability and frailty of the human ego.

It is about a world missing mercy and grace for the frailties of humans. This is not a book about peace, both external and internal. Which is probably what makes the book so hard, but at the same time, there is a strange gentleness and beauty about this book, which for me at least served as a beacon, warning of the truth about human nature.

All in all, an outstanding read, which shall retain it’s space in my poor, overcrowded library.