The literary year 2020

Thank goodness, 2020 is done. 

 

Not that I believe 2021 will be back to normal (whatever that may be). The only thing I wish for is that it is not worse than 2020. Or at the very least, the beginning of the post-COVID-19 world. 

 

I wrote little in 2020. As is my wont (or lack of wont) when things are a bit overwhelming. However, as it also quite common, one starts the year by wanting to get back on track. A new year is as good a point as any to pick up threads again. So here I am. To ease into things, I thought I would write an easy post about my book-year 2020. 

 

I like lists, and keep lists of the books I read. Several lists. One is a list of books I read per year, one is my personal reading challenge (a useful tool to help me choose books, otherwise I struggle to choose). I also have a list of all books that I have ever read (as far as I have been able to recall); books by genre; books by award; and finally keep track of reading books in series or with common characters in order. I am also on Goodreads and enjoy the annual Reading Challenge there.

  

Yes, I like lists.

So, according to my own list, I read 131 books last year. According to my Goodreads challenge in 2020, I read 139 books. The discrepancy is due to registering novelettes online, but not on my personal list. My goal was only 100 books, but unlike an earlier year, I did not update the challenge when I reached that goal. 

 

In 2020 I read 73 books written by women and only 56 books written by men. I long assumed that I read more books by women than men, but when I actually counted, I found that I in fact read slightly more by men than women. That had to be remedied. I also made a concerted effort to read more translated and non-Western European authors. I read books in three languages last year - English, Norwegian and Swedish (the latter purely in audiobooks).

 

More specifically about books that I read last year: 

 

First book finished: Let it bleed by Ian Rankin.

 

Last book of the year: A Bali conspiracy by Shamini Flint.

 

Best books I read: The keeper of lost things by Ruth Hogan; Be the Bridge by Latasha Morrison; The monster at our door by Mike Davis; The riddlemaster of Hed by Patricia McKillip; Odinsbarn by Siri Pettersen.

 

Re-reads I loved: Taken at the food by Agatha Christie and The furthest shore by Ursula K. le Guin.

 

Book that surprised me: The keeper of lost things by Ruth Hogan; The lamb will slaughter the lion by Margaret Killjoy; Norge - et lite stykke verdenshistorie by Stian Bromark & Dag Herbjørnsrud; The city & the city by China Miéville; The stars are Legion by Kameron Hurley; River of teeth by Sarah Gailey; The Gurkha and the Lord of Tuesday by Saad Hossein; Hyttebok fra helvete by Are Kalvø and A man of repute by Elizabeth Edmondson.

 

Most challenging book to finish: Norge - et lite stykke verdenshistorie by Stian Bromark & Dag Herbjørnsrud.

 

Most decorated books (most literary prizes): The city & the city by China Miéville (six prizes, two shortlists and one longlist) and Every heart a doorway by Seanan McGuire (three prizes).

 

Number of authors I had never read before: 62

Of these, authors I look forward to reading more of: Elizabeth Edmondson, Ken Liu, Siri Pettersen, Patricia A. McKillip, Alex Gray, Martha Wells, Frank Aarebrot, Adrian Tchaikovsky, Fredrick Backman, Samantha Schweblin, Sarah Gailey, Kameron Hurley, Maria Turtschaninoff, Malin Persson Giolito and Margaret Killjoy.

 

Number of audio-books:  45

 

Books that disappointed (and that I nevertheless finished): 3001: The final odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke and The ascent of money by Niall Ferguson.

 

Number of books I started by didn't finish: 38. (These include some I will most likely finish in the future. One which stands out is the award winning The goldffinch by Donna Tartt, where I shared the view of a writer on electricliterature.com that the pre-Vegas part of the book is lovely, after that, I got bored). 

Making this post was considerably more challenging than before. This is my reward for not following the changes to Blogspot closely enough I suppose. 

Well, here is to a good literary year 2021, no matter what else happens. 

Oh, and happy new year! Keep safe, healthy and a good book close.

 

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)

Literary titbits

This is the sort of thing I love, but that no doubt is not especially interesting to any one else. As no one reads this blog however, I can in good conscience "practice" writing by mentioning it anyway.

Twice now it has happened that two totally different books I am reading have odd links with each other.

The first was an English crime I recently read, called "Gone Away" by Hazel Holt. In that book, the sleuth, Mrs. Malory, a literary critic, refers to a book called "Salem Chapel" by Mrs. Olifant. A book I also happen to be reading at present, if somewhat slowly. A book I would never have known about had it not been what I affectionately call a greenback Virago paperback (which I collect). Enough of a coincidence to be interesting I thought.

Secondly, I finished A piece of justice by Jill Paton Walsh today. Another English crime (yes, I do read quite a few of those. At least as good as yoga). In that book, a comment was made about John Maynard Keynes as Bursar for his Cambridge college. I did not understand the reference (and was not curious enough to find out).  Nevertheless, I am also reading a Norwegian book called Ideologienes århundre (Ideologies century) by Bent Hagtvet, a Norwegian academic. Just today I started reading the chapter on Keynes, and voilá, the explanation of the significance of Keynes as bursar for his Cambridge colleage, Kings, was provided at no extra charge. Which is why simply reading broadly is educational perhaps!

Small things, but nevertheless does add to the enjoyment of reading.

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.

Six in Six

I confess that I like making lists. An enjoyment I have long felt should be put to use in my job, but which I unfortunatley have not had sufficient use for. The most consistent list in my life is my list of books read. The four lists, if one includes Goodreads.

Thankfully, a blog I follow shereadsnovels.com has provided me with a lovely idea for a new list. That idea is from The book jotter (thank you Jo!)


So inspired, here is Mystic's Six for Six for the first half of 2019:

Six new authors

1. N.K. Jemisin
2. Ann Leckie
3. Elizabeth Bear
4. Sheri S. Tepper
5. Claire North
6. Quentin Bates




Six best crime novels so far this year (in no particular order)

1. Malcom Mackay - How a gunman says goodbye
2. Maureen Carter - Dead old
3. Peter Robinson - Wednesday's child
4. Jill Paton Walsh - The Wyndham case
5. Martha Grimes - The Anodyne necklace
6. Aline Templeton - The darkness and the deep

Six best science fiction or fantasy novels (in no particular order)

1. N.K. Jemisin - The hundred thousand kingdoms
2. Lois McMaster Bujold - Paladin of souls
3. Sheri S. Tepper - Shadow's end
4. Elizabeth Bear - Carnival
5. Ann Leckie - Ancillary Justice
6. Douglas Adams - The hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy

Six books that disappointed a mite

1. Christopher Fowler - Full dark house
2. Larry Niven - The smoke ring
3. Kim Stanley Robinson - Red Mars
4. Delia Sherman & Theodroa Goss (Eds) - Interfictions
5. Ann Cleeves - Red bones
6. Nnedi Okorafor - Binti: the night masquerade

Six books that surprised

1.Anne B. Ragde - Berlinerpoplene
2. David Weber - On Basilsk station
3. Kage Baker - The empress of Mars
4. Martin Amis - Time's Arrow
5. Mathews Phosa - Deur die oog van 'n naald
6. Susan Cooper - Over sea, under stone

Six books I abandoned (some very disappointingly so)

1. Elizabeth Taylor - Angel
2. Frank Welsh - A history of South Africa
3. Rachel Pollack - Golden Vanity
4. Doris Lessing - Re. colonised planet 5. Shikasta
5. Sophie Hannah - Little face
6. C.J. Cherryh - Fortress of eagles

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.

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).

Words for the moment

These are the moments I recall why I love reading, when words jump out of a page at you! Just had that experience and as a blog is really more than a public diary here are the words in question:

"be glad of your growing, into which you can take no one else with you, and be good to those that remain behind, and be self-possessed and quiet with them and do not torment them with your doubts and do not frighten them with your confidence or joy, which they could not comprehend. Seek some unpretending and honest communication with them, which you are under no necessity to alter when you yourself become more and more different; love life in a strange guise in them, and make allowances for those ageing people who fear the solitude in which you trust. Avoid furnishing material for a drama which is always impending between parents and children; it uses up much of the children's strength and wastes away the love of their elders, which is operative and warm even when it does not comprehend. Demand no advice from them and reckon with no understanding; but believe in a love that is preserved for you like a heritage, and trust that in this love there is strength and a blessing which you are not bound to leave behind you though you may travel far!"

Maria Rainer Rilke
Poems
Everyman's Library Pocket Poets

It is hard to explain something which only the heart understands.

Picture: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Paula_Modersohn-Becker_016.jpg (public domain)

Follow on - banned books week

Yesterday, I must concede, I was wondering about under what conditions I think a book should be banned. Today I came across this report on Guardian.co.uk (http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/sep/29/defend-novel-school-ban). In this case (and without having read the book myself) I agree that the book should not be banned. I do think it is a good thing that books also deal with teenage rape, including what may be motivating the rapist! As long as the overall message is clear then I certainly think it is better that kids are introduced to the real world through a book than through a personal experience or even on TV or at the movies.

Easy peasy.

Banned book week

I always thought that the first banned book that I read was Burger's Daughter by Nadine Gordimer. Then again I grew up in Apartheid South Africa where banned books were a bit of a thing. Ironically "To kill a mockingbird" by Harper Lee was one of my school set-work books. The fact that this book has been banned places n the United States I find quite amazing. So much for the American free speech.

Of course under those circumstances I automatically and without much reflection am against banning. To be honest though I realise that I had to give it more thought for other circumstances.

Of course personally I practice self-censorship when it comes to books. I remember being shocked when I saw Mein kampf by Adolf Hitler on sale in Geneva, Switzerland. I was of the view that it should not be available for sale! I was tempted to buy it and burn it! But perhaps advice that someone twittered around the Koran-burning threat on 911 by a church in the US is worth further consideration: reading the book should be a prerequisite if you intend to burn it. I do not intend to ever read Mein kampf. If I start a book I don't like - whatever the reaon - I stop. I give the book away.

When it comes to children I would hope that the parents are aware of what their kids are reading and talk to them about it. That is how I would've handled my children reading Harry Potter (something many christian parents would not let their children read).

Which leaves me wondering whether I am against banning books. As I am currently becoming more aware of violence against women and children and other such things, I don't want to say entirely and unconditionally so. But far too many books have been banned which I do not agree with! As with so many things, it's all about where one draws the line. At some point or another far too many fabulous books have been banned and that is definitely a problem.


I consider Burger's daughter by Nadine Gordimer, and I write what I like by Steve Biko to be probably THE two defining books of my life. They were both banned and that was without a doubt a shame!

source for covers: fantasticfiction.co.uk and Open library

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.