Review: Jostein Gaarder's "Sophie's World"

Norwegian writer Jostein Gaarder is undoubtedly an ambitious writer. It's a brave man who will attempt to marry a brief history of the entirety of Western Philosophy with a mystery novel when there is so much to fit in without running the risk of trivialising some of the most profound thoughts mankind has ever been able to come up with.

And does he achieve it? Well... no, not at all actually. Now don't get me wrong, Gaarder does an impressive job of explaining Plato and Satre in an accessible way but the problem is in order to do it properly it takes up a lot of space which doesn't leave much room for character development. Around about the halfway mark events start to take on a more serious tone as the mystery behind why an old man chooses to impart Sophie with his knowledge of philosophy begins to be solved but because there has been very little time spent with either Sophie or her teacher it's very difficult to sympathise with either. To make matters worse Sophie herself becomes something of an irritation when the lessons go from written to verbal and she has to keep interrupting with what can sometimes be rather inane comments.

It also doesn't help that Sophie's character is not established at all before the mysterious letters through which her course begins arrive. We are unable to appreciate how much the new ideas she is being introduced to influence her behaviour because we have no idea what she was really like. Her teacher, Alberto Knox is just as underdeveloped but this is less of an issue as his role is more of a facilitator for Sophie's growth rather than a focal point himself. There is actually a reason why Gaarder may have felt such paper thin characters were necessary (which I can't discuss without ruining the twist) but even with this excuse (and it does feel like an excuse rather than an explanation) the fact is that other writers have tackled similar ideas with far more success.

Once the twist is revealed the novel yet again disappoints by using its concept in a mostly superficial manner and in the most obvious ways possible. It is a novel almost completely devoid of subtlety, particularly in its execution but also in its language as well. At times it reaches for a sort of philosophical depth but instead settles for cheap tricks which don't really add much to the narrative and the sort of boomingly hollow platitudes you would expect to see on bumper stickers and the faux inspirational posters that seem to be doing the rounds on Facebook again for some reason. A whole chapter early on can basically be summed up as "Live every day to its fullest" but is presented as if it is some great truth which nobody in the modern world can appreciate. Sadly I am not exaggerating. It is so saccharine in places as to convince the reader of the very real threat of potential transmission of diabetes through literature.

I am disappointed that with what could potentially have been a very solid basis for a good book Gaarder has shot so wide of the mark. Instead of creating a harmonious mix of all the different elements what we are left with feels more like a child has tried forcing bits from three different puzzles together. It doesn't work at all and my only recommendation is if you are really desperate for a beginner's guide to philosophy you can flick through in a few days.

Rating: 3/10

Review: A. S. Byatt's "Possession: A Romance"

Something worth noting: A. S. Byatt's "Possession" has turned out to be a difficult novel to review for me mostly down to the fact that I fit into its target audience almost perfectly and so my enjoyment (and I REALLY enjoyed this book) might very well be coloured by that fact. Sure all reviews are basically just opinion and that is going to be true of anything I write to a certain extent but it's such a factor here that I thought it best to come clean from the get go. Suitably warned? Brilliant. Let's dive in then.

"Possession" is based in the world of literary academia with the discovery of an unfinished letter leading to a potential connection between two major (and fictional) poets of the Victorian era thought to previously be entirely at odds with one another due to their vastly different approaches to writing. As the two scholars involved attempt to unravel this previously unknown relationship they find their own dealings with each other coming to mirror the very events they are investigating. This treats us to two parallel story lines, each simultaneously complimenting and satirising the other.

Byatt has managed to capture the spirit of Victorian romance novels in the past of the two poets including all the melodrama and colourfully passionate language that you would expect from somebody like the Brontes with a smattering of D. H. Lawrence thrown in (though thankfully not too much). The contrast between this and the highly analytical approach in the modern sections is both what may intrigue and may put people off. 

As with Umberto Eco, Byatt has no problem with going into detail about various literary theories and philosophical questions when the need arises so in places the prose can get quite dense. If that doesn't scare you though it really adds to the richness of the two narratives by engaging you directly with the kind of thought processes that are whipping through the character's minds. It is ultimately a novel about relationships, and the possessiveness that sometimes creeps in, both in romantic ones and the relationships between a scholar and their subject. Having the kind of detailed insight which Byatt provides makes a great deal of difference when attempting to understand the sometimes seemingly illogical steps the characters chose to make.

What "Possession" manages so well is the balance between the intellectual and the emotional elements of the stories. There are clearly criticisms being made of the academic world and its treatment of its subjects but never does this overshadow the importance of the characters and their development. All this is backed up by evocative language rich in sensuality and appropriately tweaked according to the varying effects Byatt is trying to create. I especially recommend this to anybody who has done an English degree because you'll definitely recognise some of the issues brought up.

Rating 9/10

Review: Barbara Kingsolver's "The Poisonwood Bible"

I will admit to a certain amount of scepticism when approaching this book. The plot surrounds a missionary and his family moving to the Congo in order to spread the word of God to the natives but during their time there they quickly realise that their rigid values and assumed superiority does not hold up too well in the jungle. Whilst there is nothing inherently wrong with the set-up it made me nervous because such stories have a horrible habit of descending into the "noble savage" worship that you've probably seen in movies like "Dances with Wolves" or "The Last Samurai". I love learning about other cultures and part of that is learning about what they do better than our own but at the same time the rose tinted glasses are firmly in place a lot of the time and the end result ends up being either blinkered or downright patronising. So does Barbara Kingsolver manage to dodge the pitfalls in "The Poisonwood Bible"? The answer is a resounding yes.

What Kingsolver manages so well in this novel is its examination of prejudice and what is "natural". The exploration of the villagers' views on disability is particularly memorable and gives a fascinating counter-point to the way it is treated here in the West. On the flip-side the way gender is treated in the Congo is obviously a major problem and this is highlighted by the difficulties the women of the family have to overcome during their stay. In fact gender plays a massive role in "The Poisonwood Bible" because the father is the only male member of the Price family and significantly the only of the six of them to never have a first person narrative section. Politics, religion and culture are all subjected to close scrutiny and the overall effect is a very balanced one rather than the one sided polemic which could so easily have been.

As already mentioned the entirety of the novel is told through a first person perspective but the character whose perspective it is changes from chapter to chapter. This is an approach which works brilliantly in providing us with multiple interpretations of the same events as viewed by very different people. Each of the daughters has a distinct voice and set of values and desires. Contrast is the name of the game and Kingsolver has a deep understanding of how to use this to her advantage. This particularly evident when an army of driver ants attacks the village and the family is forced to flee until they have passed through. The differing experiences of all those involved gives a richness to the event and its consequences which might otherwise have slipped away.

The feature which elevates the novel from a good one to a brilliant one though is its playful use of language. The sections written from the perspective of the disabled twin Adah are especially good as the damage done to her brain in the womb has affected her perception of words and she toys with them, reading forwards and backwards and really grasping the potentially confusing language the villagers use in all its idiosyncrasies. Most words have multiple meanings and inevitably this causes misunderstandings that are simultaneously humorous and very telling of the disconnect between the preacher and his congregation.

My only real issue with the novel, and the only thing which prevents me giving my first 10/10 is that it loses a bit of its steam in the last 150 pages or so because of certain changes which make the narrative less visceral and immediate. Though probably necessary considering the story Kingsolver wants to tell this later section just isn't quite as good as the rest but I still thoroughly recommend "The Poisonwood Bible" as a great read.

Rating: 9/10

The Holocaust in Literature

Following my previous, mostly negative, review of "The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas" I thought it might be a good time to mention some works which (in my opinion anyway) manage to really capture some of the emotionally devastating consequences of the Holocaust from a variety of viewpoints. I did consider doing a top 5 list but in all honesty the books I've chosen are so different in style and approach that trying to put them into a meaningful order would be a pretty futile effort. And I do mean different. The difficulty of the subject matter has led to some interesting experimental techniques used to express the events of the Holocaust rather than the stark realism you might expect. So, without further ado, here are 5 books I think did it better than John Boyne's lacklustre attempt.

The Diary of a Young Girl- Anne Frank:

An obvious choice perhaps but there is a reason for that. This is an intense read which provides a direct window into the experiences of a Jewish girl trying to survive in Nazi occupied Amsterdam. Its strength lies in its immediacy and the knowledge that this is somebody who truly experienced it all. I could say more but since most, if not all, of you will be aware of this one all I'll add is that this is essential reading.

Maus- Art Spiegelman

A comic book (or Graphic Novel if you're a person who can't take the idea of a comic seriously) which used animals instead of people to depict the insanity of racial hatred. As you can imagine there are a lot of people with a problem with the choice of style since they claim cartoon animals are inherently amusing and therefore trivialise the subject but then that's kind of the point. It is a clever way of rendering the familiar unfamiliar, a staple in satire since its beginnings on a caveman's wall. The pointless insanity of racial hatred is deliberately held up as ridiculous but this doesn't mean the sombre and respectful tone applied in Maus is in any way diminished. An important work both for the medium and for the subject.

Sophie's Choice- William Styron

Survivor's guilt is the subject of this novel as a Polish woman struggles to live her life in America after having survived the concentration camps. She is trapped by an abusive relationship and her own alcoholism, neither of which manage to stave off the memories of the awful decision she was forced to make in her past. The story itself is actually told from the perspective of a young novelist, Stingo, who befriends Sophie and her unstable boyfriend Nathan and gradually learns more and more about Sophie's past through both her own stories and the scars she still carries. It is a very effective technique in showing how difficult it is to understand the realities of the Holocaust by staring directly at it, an opinion which is shared by the final two novels on this list.

Time's Arrow- Martin Amis

Yet another novel which was torn apart by certain critics claiming that it used gimmicky narrative techniques which undermined the serious nature of its subject matter. Here Amis has strayed a little from his usual stomping grounds of picking over the refuse and uncomfortable truths of modern society to attempt something even more ambitious. His obsession with the scabbed and pus-seeping under belly of human nature is intact but the narrative is told literally backwards with all the events occurring as though you are watching an old video recording played in reverse, eventually leading back into the central character's past experiences in the Holocaust. Again the intent is to make the familiar topic unfamiliar again so that we have to reconstruct the realities in our heads whilst reading, forcing a re-examination of certain facts which might be taken for granted since we've heard about them so many times. It's a difficult read and not for everybody but if you can get into it there is some seriously thought provoking stuff involved.

The White Hotel- D. M. Thomas

More experimentalism but this time taking a more psychoanalytical approach as one of Freud's patients provides multiple narratives, each in a different style and with much overlapping as erotic fantasy and brutal reality are woven into a single tragic story. It is a novel about the impossibility of dealing with reality and the need to flee into fantasy and indeed psychosis in order to maintain some semblance of the self. Very deep, very convoluted but very rewarding.   

Review: John Boyne's "The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas"

Here's the set up. The tragic story of the atrocities committed in Auschwitz told through the eyes of a child who was there. Sound interesting? Well maybe but there have been countless attempts to capture the events of the Holocaust in literature and film. As a historic event it is probably one of the most difficult topics to express the world has ever seen and is understandably why so many artists feel the need to attempt it. The problem is with so many of the world's best writers tackling it how can anybody say something new about the Holocaust? Well perhaps by viewing it from a different perspective. The child in question is not a little Jewish boy imprisoned in the camps. Bruno is the son of the man running Auschwitz.

Boyne's choice of narrative focus lends itself to some potentially interesting conflicts between the inherently questioning nature of a child and the adults around him who are blinkered by Nazi ideology. It uses Bruno's friendship with a young Jewish prisoner as a way of demonstrating how racial hatred is something which must be instilled rather than being instinctive and "natural". A worthwhile message which still remains relevant in today's post 9/11 age.... which is why I feel somewhat guilty to have to tear into this novel in the way I'm about to.

Despite it's good intentions and interesting set up "The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas" feels very much a novel by numbers. Strict and often absent father figure: Check. Vindictive young Nazi officer being unnecessarily brutal in his treatment of people/animals: Check. Ditzy sister obsessed with being pretty and attracting young men in uniforms: Check.

Everything from the characters to the set pieces could be predicted before you got through the first page and in a work which is attempting to encompass the needless cruelties of the Holocaust this is a severe failing. It becomes impossible to really empathise with the situation when everything feels like it was all assembled with instructions taken from a flat-pack wardrobe. There are no real defining moments. Think of every book you've ever loved. Think of all the small details which create the richness of your favourite characters. That is what's missing. It isn't technically "bad" in anyway but the overwhelming blandness leaves you with the sensation of chewing soggy cardboard, the lack of flavour forcing you to focus on the unpleasant texture. 

This is not to say that it is entirely devoid of merit. The ending is well constructed and would be rather poignant if the characters were better fleshed out and there is a moment where Bruno discovers one of his servants used to be a doctor which is cleverly worked. Sadly though they just serve to highlight how good a novel "The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas" could have been.

Rating: 5/10

Getting Into: Iain M. Banks

As promised, part two of my Getting Into Iain Banks has arrived with a big shiny new M. in the title (cue gasps of oooh and aaaahhh). The man himself admits that the additional initial was little more than a marketing tactic devised by his publishers to create a distinction between his science fiction and his "mainstream" work because who wants to buy a nice mainstream book and find its full of yucky spaceships and robots and stuff right? In all seriousness though it turned out to be a very useful way of separating the two different styles (with the exception of "Transition" which is considered Sci-fi in America but mainstream over here in the UK). 

And they are different. Not interested in the near future, speculative fiction of novels like "1984" and "Oryx and Crake" Banks goes way out there with super advanced AI, faster than light travel, alien races and body enhancement technology since the majority of his science fiction is set in a universe dominated by The Culture, a techno-utopia. What's interesting about this setting is that it practically prevents any of the universe threatening scenarios that are more common in this kind of science fiction (see Star Wars) because The Culture is pretty much untouchable and instead focuses on smaller, more personal conflicts, where the stakes aren't so high but ultimately reflect on the moral and philosophical ideologies of the cultures involved.

If science fiction isn't usually your kind of thing I can tell you now that this probably won't change your mind. Banks loves his technology and takes great delight in describing it in detail which is probably going to be a turn off for some people but as I said in my review of "Foucault's Pendulum" a writer who loves their subject is often a writer at their best. That in mind, let's get started.

Dipping Your Toe: The Player of Games

I recently asked the users of bookclubforum.co.uk what they thought a good start point would be (thanks to Athena, Raven and Karsa Orlong for suggestions) and it was unanimous that "The Player of Games" offers the best start point for people new to Banks's work. It's set in The Culture universe but unlike Consider Phlebas it is from the perspective of one of its citizens and as such provides a great deal of insight into the way the society works. Good news for the beginner. It also tells the story of a giant super complicated game tournament with a lot of racial pride on the line and some potentially very serious consequences for those involved. Not only one of Banks's most accessible but one of his best.

Plunging in at the Deep End: Feersum Endjinn

Those looking for a challenge but who would rather not miss out on some of the information on The Culture from previous books should look towards this stand alone novel set in an entirely different and rather dystopian vision of the future. Both conceptually and stylistically it is one of Banks's more ambitious novels as it includes four different first person narratives with varying voices including the use of bizarre spelling which resembles a proto-textspeak for one of the characters. It also features one of my favourite of Banks's ideas, The Crypt: a simulated reality where the memories of the dead are collected and their experiences absorbed and where people can explore in search of answers but at the risk of their sanity.

Drifting a Little Deeper: Use of Weapons

This is my favourite Iain M. Banks novel. A tale of a man trying to run from his past is nothing new to the literary world but the way this novel flits back and forth between time-frames to its inevitable reveal and the way the central character (Zakalwe) is constructed is intensely realised. It also features some clever, if gruesome, set-pieces which show of Banks's impressive imagination but which I'd rather not spoil for you here. All I'll say is go read it. Now!

Into the Depths: Surface Detail (Pun not intended)

Another ambitious novel which manages to create a secular battle between Heaven and Hell through the use of virtual reality. A war is raging in the virtual world over whether deliberately made Hells should exist as a potential punishment for sinners when they die. Couple that with several diverging plot threads and some very interesting visual representations of the nature of inherited debt and you've got the recipe for a classic of the genre. That said there are a several references to previous works, including one right at the end which would be a shame to miss because you haven't read the rest. Best wait till you have a good grasp of The Culture and its previous adventures before tackling this one.

Ones to Avoid:

Against a Dark Background is the only real dud in the science fiction category of Banks's work for me. This is possibly due to the really obvious twist which tries a fake out towards the end but ultimately fails leaving a faintly unpleasant taste on the tongue. Some of the visual imagery is pretty cool though so it's not a total loss. Excession and Consider Phlebas both tend to split readers so I won't try and persuade either way on those two but Excession certainly is a bad introduction to the world of The Culture because it assumes a lot of knowledge about the AI Minds.

Review: John Kennedy Toole's "A Confederacy of Dunces"

A confederacy of dunces is the term Jonathan Swift once used to describe the idiots who congregate around genius in order to tear it down, a conspiracy of stupidity which must inevitably swarm around all those of supreme talent and intellect because the unenlightened cannot possibly hope to understand true greatness and thus seek to destroy it instead. If that all sounds slightly pompous and arrogant to you then you'd be thinking exactly like John Kennedy Toole was when he titled his novel about a more than slightly pompous and arrogant man named Ignatius J. Reilly.

As you probably already suspect (or indeed know) "A Confederacy of Dunces" is a humorous novel that details the inevitable misadventures of its gloriously deluded central character as he attempts to overcome what he sees as the mental and moral ineptitudes of the world around him. Due to sudden financial hardship the thirty year old, overweight, college-grad unemployed layabout has to get a job except that involves working for the very people his despises at the bottom rungs of the corporate ladders because he has done nothing but sponge off his poor at-the-end-of-her-tether mother since he finished his masters.

This is all a perfect set-up for a series of preposterous events involving, amongst other things, a party with its own sex dungeon, a stripper being undressed on stage by a parrot and a policeman hiding in a toilet dressed as a cowboy. Ignatius acts as a catalyst, bumbling through the French Quarter of New Orleans and triggering one insane scene after another.

The problem with writing comedy though is that it can be really difficult to get right on the page. On screen or on stage something can be imbued with humour by the actor's sense of timing and voice but in the written form all this has to be successfully conveyed through the readers imagination. It's a really hard trick to pull off and in order to manage it a writer has to create an exceptional narrative voice you can hear in your head as you read (see Douglas Adams or Terry Pratchett) if there is any hope you genuinely laughing aloud whilst reading.

Fortunately it is a trick which Toole has nailed, thanks in most part to the convincing ridiculousness of his protagonist. The novel regularly gives us insight into Ignatius's own interior monologue as well as access to some of his letters and personal writings which adds to the multi-layered farcical flavour whilst providing the opportunity to take clever pot shots at American life in the sixties. A wonderfully entertaining book for all fans of self-indulgent American comedy. 

Rating: 9/10