I Capture the Castle

Sometimes I pick a book to write about for the sheer pleasure of reliving the fun I had reading it - this is one of those! This means that those of you who enjoy positive reviews because of the warm and fuzzy feeling generated by someone saying nice things about a book you like will enjoy it, while those of you who prefer the bitchy thrill of a mean review a) should be ashamed of yourself and b) might want to stop reading now.

Before I start the review proper, I should apologise for the recent sporadic service - various circumstances have left me with rather less free time than I had formerly, so I will now be updating this twice a week, not the three times you will all have come to expect and, I tell myself, eagerly anticipate.

Now, on to the novel! Clearly, I am a fan. Partly, I just like Dodie Smith. I like the way she writes, and really enjoyed all other novels of hers I have read (which, for those of you who haven't heard of her, include 'A Hundred and One Dalmatians'. Which is brilliant). Partly, I think it is a lovely novel.

The characters are well-drawn and very real, though Rose does annoy me a bit. Cassandra, however, is the kind of girl one could easily be friends with and Topaz, while nuts, is warm and loving. The plot is nothing out of the ordinary - the magic for me is all in the writing and characterisation.

The only point of disagreement I have ever come across is about the ending. I happen to love the bittersweet nature of it - it's true to life without being "gritty realism" (in other words unpleasant and depressing work that people only read so they can say they've read it). However, if you're absolutely committed to a definite conclusion, I can see that this wouldn't appeal to you.

'I Capture the Castle' has the other bonus that it is one of very few novels whose film adaptation I truly enjoyed. Anyone who knows me will have heard me complain ad nauseam about the terribleness of various movie adaptations, so you will appreciate how rare this is - if you haven't seen it, I can heartily recommend it. But read the book first.

The Chocolate War

I read this one some time ago, so you'll have to forgive me if I'm a little hazy on the details... What I do remember quite clearly is the emotional reaction I had to it, which is the reason I picked it. At first blush, 'The Chocolate War' seems like it's going to be a nice, standard triumph-against-adversity type of story. After all, anything with the word "chocolate" in the title has to be nice, right?

You can see where this is going, can't you? Yup, you guessed it! 'The Chocolate War' is actually a nice, standard tri- no, I'm kidding, it's horrible. I'm not going to reveal the ending to you, but it is depressing. At least I thought so. I'll accept that I may be more easily depressed than most people, but not until you've read the novel and can honestly say you didn't find it depressing.

In it, we follow the path of one student as he attempts to stand up to the secret society that effectively governs his school. We then watch as they express their disapproval in varied ways - some fairly standard school-bully-material, others less so.

The story is powerful and well-written, with pretty clear motivation for all of the characters. That is not my problem with it. My problem with this novel is twofold. Firstly, it leads you to believe that it will be a completely different kind of novel, making the shock that much worse when it reaches you.

My second problem is entirely personal, and is the same as the problem I had with 'Lord of the Flies' - I happen to find children acting in this brutal fashion incredibly disturbing. If they were adults, it wouldn't disturb me half as much. I'm sure it's unrealistic of me, but if there are schoolboys like Archie Costello or Emile Janza out there, I don't want to know about it.

Helen

This is my first post-degree summer, so I've been looking for new and different authors who I think might interest me. In this spirit, I picked a Maria Edgeworth (well, partly that and partly because it was on one of those Waterstone's stands...), thinking to myself "If Jane Austen liked it, it can't be bad".

And it isn't. Or at least, not really. It's well-written and reasonably compelling, leaving me with a strong desire to keep reading every time I put it down. I'm just not sure that that's enough. I found that Edgeworth's strong influence on Austen's writing style was evident, making the experience of reading the novel slightly eerie.

Essentially, my problem with 'Helen' was that it had all of the outdated attitudes and excessive morality of Austen's novels, but none of the humour. Helen herself is just a bit wet - she actually reminded me very strongly of Fanny from 'Mansfield Park' - and not particularly interesting.

Cecilia is a prize (excuse the language) bitch. She willingly betrays her best friend to save herself and doesn't think twice about it until it affects her directly. Lady Davenport, the only truly interesting woman in the novel (Miss Clarendon is offensively rude) proves to be rather pathetic, spoiling the end of the novel for me.

The moral of the story seemed to be "Don't lie, it's bad", which I felt could easily have been expressed in a paragraph, and, to be honest, I'm not sure there was anything else going on. Interesting reading certainly, but it did leave me feeling that Austen's taste didn't match her abilities.

Lolita

So, after spending all of my review of 'Daddy-Long-Legs' bitching about people calling it paedophilic completely incorrectly, I thought I should probably review a genuinely paedophilic novel, to prove my point (I know, this should have been the post after DDL, but I only just thought about it, so tough luck. Try re-reading the DDL post before you read the rest of this, see if it helps!).

I have to say, I think 'Lolita' is an extremely clever novel. He absolutely gets into Humbert Humbert's head - to the extent that one is left wondering exactly how Nabokov himself felt about young girls... Though I choose to think that he just had a fabulous imagination! Lolita is exactly right - just experienced enough that we can believe she would so the things she does, yet maintaining the innocence necessary for a girl of her age to be remotely convincing as a character.

Humbert Humbert is eerily likeable, which is what gives the novel its true creepiness (as far as I am concerned, anyway). A simple story about a man who falls in love/lust with a thirteen-year-old girl, then gets his comeuppance (I'm simplifying slightly...) might be interesting, but wouldn't leave you with the strong sense of unease engendered by 'Lolita'.

For my money, the reason this novel is so effective is the way in which we, the readers, identify with Humbert Humbert (a side note: the best name in fiction? Definitely up there!). I don't know about you, but I could almost feel the attraction he felt towards his "nymphets" - and I'm neither attracted to girls nor children! I found myself rooting for him towards the end of the novel, which was deeply disturbing...

However, it is pretty clear by the end of the novel that, not only is he not a danger to children, but he has been completely destroyed by his relationship with Lolita, while she has emerged relatively unscathed, which fate reassured me somewhat - I wasn't identifying with a truly evil person, but a man who had been extremely foolish and was paying for it.

If you can handle the concepts behind the novel, I would recommend this - the style is perfect, the subject matter intriguing and the experience brilliant.

Persuasion

Ok, so those of you who know me will know I'm something of a Jane Austen fan. For those you who don't: I'm something of a Jane Austen fan. Well, that's that cleared up - review over, right? No? Oh, alright then... I picked 'Persuasion' because it's proabably my favourite Jane Austen novel - well that or 'Emma'. Or 'Pride and Prejudice'. So, I picked 'Persuasion' because it's one of my three favourite Jane Austen novels...

I like an awful lot about 'Persuasion', though oddly the heroine isn't particularly one of them. I mean, she's ok, but she's just a little bit wet - though not quite as wet as "Mansfield Park"'s Fanny. By contrast, the hero may well be my absolute favourite Austen hero. He's just that little bit more human than Darcy, making him more attractive as a person. I've always felt that Darcy, for all his merits, couldn't have much of a sense of humour, but Captain Wentworth clearly has a strong sense of the absurd.

I enjoyed the way 'Persuasion' was written, as I felt it was slightly more mature than her other novels, probably due (at least in part) to the greater age of her heroine. This, by the way, is a growing attraction for me, as I have a sneaking suspicion that Ann Elliott is the last of Austen's heroines still to be older than me. Which is terrifying.

Well, what else can I tell you? The writing is witty as always, Ann is very sweet (if a little excessively so at times), Frederick is dashing and terribly exciting and the villains are exactly as villainous as they should be! If you like Austen, you'll like it. If you don't like Austen - well, there must be something wrong with you. I'm sorry, but you had to know sometime...

Lord of the Flies

OK, for those of you who have mentioned this blog's slight positive bias, this should restore the average (and then some!). Now, I should probably tell you that I first read this book when I was eight, which may have coloured my opinion of it somewhat, but I hated it. I did try it again later, in the pursuit of fairness - I still hated it.

I know this is not the conventional opinion and I'm sure people will take me aside and explain to me exactly why it is that I "haven't understood the novel". Those people needn't bother. I get it, I really do. I understand that it's an allegory and a commentary on human nature; that doesn't mean I have to like it.

Let me explain why. Firstly, it's just morbid. Human nature may well work like that, it is certainly possible and people do commit atrocities all the time, but that doesn't mean I want to spend hours of my life dwelling on it. I know the message is far more effective if he uses children, but it also makes the whole thing extremely disturbing.

Secondly, I actually disagree with the point of the novel. I don't think that people will revert to their animal natures if left alone. Why should they? You see a similar attitude to the world if you look at Blake or Rousseau (although they obviously hit the opposite end of the spectrum and believe we would all be angels). Why is it that all of these people seem to forget that we are left alone?

After all, the rules constraining us didn't just appear! Humans have been around for about half a million years - organised society has only been around for about 5000 years. People didn't just wander around randomly killing each other, we wouldn't have survived until now if they had!

Ok, rant over. There you have it though, in a nutshell - I think it's unrealistic and needlessly morbid. Well-written, yes, absolutely. If you don't mind the former two, give it a shot. But it's not for me.

Cause Celeb

Well, here we are - another Friday, another blog! (I realise that I could have written that sentence on any given Monday or Wednesday as well, but today happens to be Friday. So there). So, 'Cause Celeb' - for those of you who don't know, this is Helen Fielding's first novel and is really rather good! I'm often wary of the first novels written by authors I admire, as they're so often disappointing, but this one lived up to my opinion of her.

Admittedly, it didn't quite reach the heights of 'Bridget Jones', but that's a little like complaining that 'Emma' isn't as good as 'Pride and Prejudice' - it may be true, but both are so good, it's hardly relevant. 'Cause Celeb' is the story of Rosie Richardson, who heads off to be an aid worker in Africa, primarily to escape a broken heart.

While she is there, crisis hits and she has to re-involve herself in her old life to save the day! That sounds awful, but I promise it's not. Fielding is very amusing and as observant as usual, pinpointing the common motives behind 'altruism' slightly uncannily (don't believe me? What was the last altruistic thing you did? Why did you do it? Honestly? See?), without necessarily condemning the good resulting from such actions.

Rosie is charming and rings very true - she's the kind of girl you'd like to have a coffee with. She's fun, intelligent and interesting, but not so perfect as to be intimidating. Oliver, the breaker of Rosie's heart, is very well drawn - attractive enough for us to understand why Rosie dates him, but horrible enough to be convincingly destructive (emotionally speaking).

I really enjoyed reading this and it cemented my opinion of Helen Fielding as one of the best comedy writers of our time (if not one the best writers of our time). Absolutely worth a read.

The Children's Book

Hmmm, I seem to be going through a phase of writing about books about books at the moment (don't worry if you didn't understand that sentence - you just aren't quite bright enough to keep up obviously. But that's ok. I'll still talk to you). A.S.Byatt is one of those authors people keep telling me I must read, so after some years of this, I wandered to a Waterstones in search of 'Possession'. They didn't have it (oddly), so I picked 'The Children's Book' and read that instead (having paid for it, obviously - what do you take me for?).

And the verdict? I liked it. I think. Probably anyway. Let me explain. It is certainly an engaging story (or several engaging stories), filled with likeable and less likeable characters whose stories are interesting and compelling. I enjoyed all of the children's stories and found their characters fascinating (Tom was possibly the least interesting, though I don't think his story could have ended any other way).

I found Olivia a little distasteful, though I suppose one was meant to. Otherwise I was a fan of the characters. I found there were some sections which were rather dull - the ones where she rambled on about the England of the time. I felt that I didn't care all that much about England as whole, just about England as it affected her characters. I also thought she was a little rough on liberal middle class families and the effect they have on their children.

Those problems apart, it was good. The ending was truly touching and, though I probably should have seen it coming, I didn't (but then I'm dense like that). All in all, it more or less backed up the general opinion of her work!

Lipstick Jungle

I'm afraid I've just had an interview today, so I'm not able to handle anything more complicated than a slightly trashy chick-lit type novel. Which is precisely what 'Lipstick Jungle' is. It was written by Candace Bushnell (of 'Sex and the City' fame), so I thought I'd read it, on the basis that it would probably be something like SATC (the novel, I mean, not the show).

It isn't really. I mean, it's ok. There's nothing majorly wrong with it, but it's lacking the bite that SATC has (again, I emphasise that I am talking about the novel, which is very different in feel to the show). It deals with three very feminist women in New York, trying to advance their careers and the obstacles they face. Which, on the face of it, is fine.

The plot is fairly light and deals with their romantic troubles as well as their personal and professional issues reasonably entertainingly. The problem is just that it doesn't transmit the same sense of the city that SATC did. It doesn't really have any soul. Essentially, I felt that Bushnell had achieved success and was now doing it by numbers.

I also found the constant 'feminist' references rather irritating. I should explain that I consider myself a feminist. I absolutely believe that men and women should be treated equally. Unfortunately, that isn't what Bushnell seems to believe. Her characters act as though they believe women should be considered to be better than men and treated as such, which I would say is every bit as unfair as the reverse.

They re constantly complaining about how men don't understand things 'because they are men' or how people are only treating them poorly 'because they are women', when in fact the character in question clearly treats everyone poorly, male or female. I would say it's a fairly entertaining novel, very good for those occasions when your brain just won't work, but also a bit annoying and not particularly interesting.

The Book Thief

So, it's been a while, huh? I'm afraid my excuse is travel (again), but I promise I'm not going off on anymore holidays for the forseeable, so I'll be here. In England. In the rain. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, right, the book... I've seen this novel in the children's section of various bookshops, and I have to say, I don't really think it belongs.

That's not to say that it isn't fit for children, just that it is suitable for adults. It's about children, yes, but as anyone who's ever read 'The Lord of the Flies' will tell you, that doesn't mean it's for children. (Just an aside: if you're waiting for me to write a review of 'The Lord of the Flies', I should warn you, you'll be waiting for quite some time. I read it last when I was 8 - so when I say it's not suitable for children, I mean it - and any review would require me to reread it. Which I don't intend to do. Ever. Sorry.)

So, by now you're probably thinking that I haven't read the book at all and am hoping to distract you by saying rude things about classics... I promise, I have. Several times, in fact, which means, I'm afraid it's another positive review. I really liked this novel. It's set in Nazi Germany, which gives it the requisite amount of darkness with minimum effort. It isn't too dark and doesn't leave you despairing of humanity, though I did cry.

The only complaint I really have is that, while the basic conceit (a story narrated by death) is good, it sometimes gets a little irritating, as he will insist on telling how it ends. I don't mean that in a foreshadowing, hint-y kind of way, I mean he actually tells you. Luckily, he's a good enough writer that the end still comes as a surprise, but it can be annoying. Otherwise, I like the characters, I enjoyed the plot and his writing style is, by and large, very likeable.

Decline and Fall

I picked this one more or less at random, because I'd read and enjoyed 'Brideshead Revisited', so I figured there was a decent chance I'd like this too. Ok, now that I've prepared you for a negative review, I'm going to disappoint you. Well, sort of. You'll see.

First things first, did I enjoy it? Yes, yes I did. It was really fun to read, very entertaining and terribly funny. Are my feelings about it a hundred percent positive? Not exactly. On the one hand, it is, as I just mentioned, a very funny, very readable novel. Paul Pennyfeather provides the only logic in the book and, like all good heroes (though of course Waugh tells us Paul isn't really a hero), is bland enough for everyone to feel they can identify with him.

So far, so good. The circumstances leading to Paul's sending down are hilarious and the characters he meets as a result are fascinating - my personal favourite is Peter Beste-Chetwynde, the world's oldest fifteen-year-old. However, some of the attitudes evident in the novel are rather unsavoury, and I found that tainted the experience somewhat.

For instance, when we first meet Margot Beste-Chetwynde, she has with her a black American boyfriend, who is referred to in unpleasant terms, not only by the characters, but also by the narrator. Now one could argue that the characters are intended to be ridiculous and are being mocked by Waugh, but the narrator certainly isn't. I'll admit that acceptable terminology has changed since the '20s, but it does date the novel and give us an insight into Waugh's less pleasant views.

His treatment of Jews, though brief, is of a similar vein, though possibly worse, as it is a casual comment coming from an otherwise amiable character, rather than studied ridiculousness. This aside, I enjoyed the story greatly and fully intend to read more of Waugh's work - it's just a shame he was so obviously of his time.

Immortality

Before this, I hadn't read any of Milan Kundera's works and had the vague feeling that they were probably the kind of serious novel people read in coffee shops to make themselves look like intelligent people (what do you mean you don't do that? Is that just me then? Oh dear...). Having read 'Immortality', I'll admit that I was wrong (well, not about people reading the books in coffee shops - for all I know, he's the number one coffee-shop-author). They (or at least the one I've read) are not serious books.

Yes, 'Immortality' deals with serious concepts, but not in a serious fashion. I was kind of expecting to be bored and was anticipating a dreary couple of days forcing myself to read a novel that was worthy, but uninspiring. Luckily for me, I experienced nothing of the sort. It was witty and entertaining and I read so fast that I was disappointed to come to the end.

Do I agree with Kundera's conclusions? Well, I don't know. If I'm honest, I'm not entirely sure that he actually comes to any definite conclusion - he seems simply to enjoy throwing around ideas. I have to say, I'm not entirely sure I would call this a novel - its purpose is not that of most novels. It follows a line of story, certainly, but I wouldn't say it has a storyline. If you see what I mean. If you don't I can only suggest that you read it, after which you will.

Kundera is exploring what it means to be immortal and why we are so attached to the notions of life and continued life, using the many characters who appear in the novel (I don't know what else to classify it as, so novel it shall remain) to do so. I particularly enjoyed the tales of Goethe and Bettina, which are essentially completely unconnected from the greater story.

I felt that Kundera was most sympathetic towards Agnes, though I found her a little cold. Saying that, no other character (except possibly Goethe) was spared his ridicule, making it very hard to take any of them seriously. I really enjoyed reading this, and would happily do so again. It's serious, yet funny, intelligent, yet accessible. Definitely try it.

Acting Up

Ok, this one is serious trash. By which I mean it's some hardcore holiday reading material. It isn't 'light, but well-written', it isn't in any way new, challenging or different. It is just easy. But then, I am on holiday, so it's totally appropriate for me to be reading it.

It basically follows the plot of 'Pride and Prejudice' (if you don't know the plot of 'Pride and Prejudice', I would suggest you start by reading that), with a modern framework and characters. Our Elizabeth is one Jasmin (Jazz) Fields, a journalist, whose sister George (Jane Bennet) is an actress. They audition for a charity performance of 'Pride and Prejudice', to be directed by a Mr. Harry Noble (Darcy), an actor who is Hollywood royalty.

Jazz takes against him from the start, and the rest is pretty obvious, with the play serving as an excuse for their interaction and various characters in her life replacing the ones from P&P we know and love (though Mrs. Bennet is replaced by her mother, who is nothing like her).

Now, where to start? I think I'll begin with what was right with it, then move into my rant... Well, Harry Noble is a good character - he obviously follows along the character lines set up by Austen for Darcy, but with some more modern twists. Similarly, George and Jack (Mr. Bingley) are very nicely drawn characters, sweet without being impossible or Pollyannaish. Finally, the plot is familiar and always fun to relive, so I rather enjoyed that.

Ok. So what is wrong with it? Well, Jazz for one. She's no Elizabeth Bennet, that's for sure! Where Lizzie is confident, she is conceited, where Lizzie is witty, she is rude and where Lizzie is forthright, she is brash. She is a fundamentally irritating character, who is too engrossed in her own wonderfulness to notice that anyone else could be even slightly interesting. She essentially disowns her flatmate for daring to want to join a gym, is furious when said flatmate abandons her for a man, then proceeds to end the novel by doing just that to the flatmate.

The author too frequently references the play, pointing out the parallels between the original and her own novel, in evident assumption that anyone reading it is too stupid to work it out themselves. Finally, and most annoyingly, it just isn't very funny. It should be, but the jokes are all obvious or poor, weakening the narrative voice (which isn't bad otherwise) considerably.

The Post-Birthday World

This recommended to me with the words "I want to see what you think of it - my friend and I disagreed." Having read it, I can absolutely understand the confusion over what exactly one feels about this novel. It was written by Lionel Shriver, whose work I've wanted to read for some time now (I keep seeing copies of 'We Need to Talk About Kevin' in bookshops, and vaguely feeling I should read it), so I was happy to oblige.

The novel itself is a sort of written version of 'Sliding Doors' - we start a conventional a story and then our heroine has a choice (to kiss a man or not to kiss him) and, depending on which option she chooses, the story splits. In one she leaves her long-term boyfriend for this man and in the other, she stays, feeling smugly virtuous.

We then follow both storylines, as they diverge owing to the many minutes decisions associated with the big one, giving us the chance to decide which was the better option - what would you have done? Now, I have to admit I had some problems with it. Firstly, Shriver doesn't go to too much effort to hide which of the options she believes to be the best, thus skewing the result somewhat (I won't tell you which she preferred, it'd spoil the story).

Secondly, she does actually cheat. The idea is that, all else being the same, we should investigate how this one act can change someone's life. But (here is the problem) she doesn't leave all else the same. One thing happens (again, I won't tell you what that is) in one story which, for no apparent reason, does not happen in the other. Why? Because Shriver wants you to pick one story over the other, I assume - there is no other possible reason.

My final problem was the attitude permeating the novel. It seemed to suggest that, no matter what you decide to do, you lose. Life sucks, game over. I realise this is supposed to show realism and a awareness that the world isn't perfect but, while I agree that it isn't perfect, I don't believe that you're screwed no matter what you do. Why should I? Even if it's true, why would I want to live my life with that ringing in my ears? Let me at least pretend it's possible to be happy!

Don't get me wrong - the novel is beautifully written and extremely readable. It just depressed me slightly to read this novel, which I felt could be brilliant, only for the attitudes behind it to ruin it for me. (I also took issue with the heroine's "post-feminist" view that all she needs to make her happy is a man. If it were me, I'd have dumped them both. But if I say that, it turns my final problem into my penultimate problem instead, so I won't.)

Last Night at Chateau Marmont

Before I go ahead with my review, you have to allow me a minute to feel terribly smug, sitting as I am in the South of France, having just enjoyed a day in the sunshine. Do you all feel terribly jealous? Yes? Ok then, job done! Now I can move on and review the novel.

This is the latest novel by the author of 'The Devil Wears Prada', whose work you know I like. I should probably be looking at something with more "intrinsic literary merit", but I'm still reading that one so, faute de mieux, you'll have to make do with this.

Having said that, I actually wouldn't call it making do. It was a very good read. Definitely suited to holiday reading (in that it didn't require huge amounts of concentration), but nevertheless well-written, as are all her works, and raising some interesting points.

This is the first of Weisberger's novels to look at the other side - to take the part of the person left behind. Two of her three other novels deal with someone becoming unreasonably attached to work, while the third was simply completely different.

This made the novel interesting in itself, as we all know she has experienced being swept up in one's work firsthand, so her ability to consider someone else's point of view, and to do so convincingly (as she does) is admirable.

That aside, the novel retains the sense of humour so consistently present in her other work, while striking some serious notes without becoming dull. She maintains her standard impressively.

Our Man in Havana

Now, I could have reviewed the book I've just finished reading - I know it well enough, and it would have given me the chance to write a not-one-hundred-percent-positive review, which is always fun. But... well, it's not very good, and I think I've been doing fairly well in persuading you all that I only read well-written, meaningful novels, so I'm not letting that go just yet!

Instead, I've decided to write about one of my favourite novels. 'Our Man in Havana' was the first Graham Greene novel I read, and essentially shaped my opinion of his work, which is why I've been so surprised when people weren't keen. I followed it with 'The Comedians' (which is almost as good), so I couldn't think what the problem was until I read (well, almost read - got halfway through anyway...) 'Brighton Rock'. Which is funny, because it's meant to be one of the good ones.

However, I can't seem to get into it, so it's sitting on my shelf, half read. Anwyay, the reason I was mentioning all of that is to say: if you're not new to Greene, if you've read another of his novels and found it too Catholic, or slightly dull, don't write him off. Really.

'Our Man in Havana' is fabulous. Yes, Catholicism is a part of it, but it is far from overwhelming - nothing like the same level as 'Brideshead Revisited', to pluck a name from thin air (I know that isn't by Greene, but it is very Catholic). Our hero is not Catholic. In fact, he is an atheist, and has been for some time now.

The novel is a gentle comedy, ridiculing the British Intelligence Service, of which Greene had first-hand knowledge, having worked for MI6. The basic idea is that the SIS recruits Wormold (our hero), to report to them on any military developments in Havana. He knows nothing about such developments, so begins to fabricate his reports, needing the money they bring in for his expensive daughter.

Eventually, he discovers that his reports are somehow coming true, and gets caught up in a world he hoped to avoid altogether. The novel never loses its lighthearted feel, even in the tensest times, and Greene's writing style remains consistently entertaining. His amusement at the way the SIS dealt with the world is clear, and well transmitted. This is an extremely entertaining and beautifully written novel - I would absolutely recommend it, particularly if you haven't been wowed by Greene before.

Candy Girl

How many of you saw 'Juno'? Most of you? Good. Now how many of you liked it? All of you? Very good (don't worry if you didn't - I'll just never talk you again, that's alright, isn't it?). Well, this is by the woman who wrote 'Juno' (her name's Diablo Cody - well, not really, but it's an awesome pen name, don't you think?).

It's actually the first book she wrote, having spent years blogging and working in journalism, and is a memoir of her time as a stripper. Yes, really. She tells us how she went from a copy typist in an advertising agency to a full-time stripper and what it was like.

Quite apart from the voyeuristic thrill of finding out what stripping is like from the stripper's point of view, this is an incredibly readable book in its own right. The way of talking that made Juno herself such an entertaining character clearly owed a lot to Cody's own personality. The book reads rather like Juno has grown up and is telling you how she felt about stripping.

I'm not going to go into gory detail in this review, partly because I don't want to spoil it for you and partly because, well, there might be kids reading this! Shame on you for wanting to hear about what happens in Sexworld and how much hookers earn! If that sentence intrigued you at all, you should definitely read this.

If it didn't - what is wrong with you? Have you no human curiosity? Anyway, you should still read it, because it's fun, cool and occasionally very touching. I wouldn't say I identified with Cody (in fact, we're probably as different as people get), but I did come away with the strong impression that she'd be pretty fun to hang out with.

The Things They Carried

As promised, I'm now going to review a 'real' book - by which I mean a novel covering slightly weightier material than in the last post. 'The Things They Carried' is a novel I read when I was doing my A-levels - we had to write a comparative essay, either comparing 'The Go-Between' with 'Spies' by Michael Frayn or 'The Things They Carried', by Tim O'Brien. I am very lazy, so I went for the easy option and used 'Spies', which was basically a retelling of 'The Go-Between', set during WWII.

However lazy I might be, I was still curious enough to read TTTC (oooh, I only just realised how many words in the title begin with a 'T'...), and I am delighted that I did! It is a brilliantly written novel, far more interesting than the easy option I went with (though I'm still glad I did, it was the most straightforward essay I ever wrote).

It is set during the Vietnam war, Tim O'Brien having served in 'Nam (I've always wanted to write that - you can say what you want about the war, but it has the coolest abbreviation of any war), and takes the form of several, loosely connected short stories. They share a common narrator and many common characters, as well as various thematic links.

The narrator is clearly fairly autobiographical (can a person be autobiographical? I don't know... The narrator is based on O'Brien, anyway), being a writer who can only write about Vietnam (O'Brien can famously only write about Vietnam), and is exploring various ideas, which are, presumably, O'Brien's own thoughts.

He transmits the pain experienced by his characters very clearly, as well as the different ways they have been broken by this war. The disjointed nature of the stories cleverly expressed his views on the truthfulness of stories, as well as the way one's memory of a traumatic event is unreliable (I'll be honest here - that bit is straight out of my A-level. Sorry.).

This is a fascinating account of war and its effects on the participants, containing ideas and themes that will be familiar to anyone who has looked at WWI literature, though rather more graphically expressed. It is at times touching, at others tragic and occasionally almost repellent in its honesty.

The Devil Wears Prada

Well, having tackled some 'serious' literature on Wednesday, I felt it was time for something a little lighter (if you're lucky, I'll compensate for this by reviewing a hardcore maths book next time...). 'The Devil Wears Prada' definitely qualifies as 'light', though, as I may have mentioned before, that doesn't necessarily mean poor quality.

In fact TDWP is a rather droll novel, following the adventures of Andy Sachs in her first (and only) year with fictitious magazine Runway (i.e. Vogue) working for notoriously horrible editor Miranda Priestley (i.e. Anna Wintour). Now, I'm not going to go through the plot - I'm sure you've watched the movie and marvelled over Meryl Streep's fabulous portrayal of evil (with a heart) while you sympathised with Anne Hathaway as Andy.

There's a decent chance, however, that you won't have read the novel. I certainly didn't read it until after I had seen the movie, and even then I waited until a particularly bored afternoon. It was worth the wait, and managed to entertain me quite happily for a couple of hours. The characters are very believable (you might think that's a given for an autobiographical novel, but I've read plenty of novels in which it isn't the case), though Miranda Priestley lacks the sense of humour that saves her in the film.

There was rather more venom in the novel than the film, I felt, I suppose partly because it was written when everything was still fresh in her mind, without the benefit of success to soften her. However, it's was still good fun - very nicely written, even if she never quite achieves the brilliance of Austen or even Fielding. Perfect for holidays and lazy days.

Fahrenheit 451

Apologies again for the lack of service - I've been in Scotland with no internet, which was a slight impediment... Today's novel is another sci-fi type novel, which I do like, I think partly because of my geeky history. Anyway, before the review, I should give you a heads-up - it will be positive. In fact, almost all the reviews you read here will be positive. This is because I am not reviewing books as I read them.

I am actually mostly reviewing books I read in the past and still remember. Unfortunately, I tend not to reread books I don't like, as a result of which, unless I happen to have just finished a novel, I am likely to give it a decent review. Maybe think of them as recommendations? Maybe just think of me as a positive person? Either way, if you want horrible reviews, you'll have to go somewhere else! Though I don't know why you would - I'm so witty and entertaining...


Anyway, now that you're sufficiently prepared for the positivity I am about to spout, I shan't let you down - I really liked this novel. Apart from anything else, I loved the title and what it means. I do like dystopia novels generally, which meant that I had a pretty strong feeling I would like it before I read it, but I thought it threw up some interesting ideas about how it's our culture that makes us what we are, rather than what we are that shapes our culture.

It has to be said that I don't believe the situation presented in the novel would ever come about, but then I tend to think that about most dystopia novels - the excessive pessimism is sort of the point... (I wonder what my love of them says about me - hmmmm...). While I accept the point that the majority of people don't read the classics, they tend to be sort of in the air, and people absorb them without reading them.

I also believe that most people like to feel that they could read a classic, and indeed will read a classic, just as soon as they finish this slightly trashy novel. Rather like diets, one wants to know change is possible, even if we aren't going to partake ourselves. This, I think, would prevent the world ever ending up in the situation presented 'Fahrenheit 451' (I hope!). That said, I thought it was a beautifully structured story, with some fascinating characters.

Clarisse is charming, and I really wanted to get to know her better. Guy strikes me as something of an idiot, if I'm honest, but at least he's an idiot who wants change and will risk anything for what he believes in. I actually thought Captain Beatty was one of the most interesting characters in the novel, fulfilling a similar role to that of Mustapha Mond in 'Brave New World', as the morally ambiguous, but nevertheless rather sympathetic, boss/leader/chief.

Definitely worth a read, particularly if you are a fan of sci-fi or dystopian novels!

Different Seasons

Ok, I'm cheating slightly. This is a collection of four novellas, rather than a novel in its own right. My theory is that a novella is slightly too short to review and anyway, I don't think you can buy these separately, so if you're buying the whole collection you might as well have some idea about each novella.

Now, Stephen King may seem like a slightly odd choice to review - he's absolutely mainstream, and commonly considered to write trash. However, I have yet to meet anyone who's read this collection, and I can assure you, it's far from trashy. It is the only work by Stephen King I have read. I do not like horror stories.

I would go so far as to say that I am a complete wuss when it comes to horror stories of any kind. I had nightmares after a particularly scary episode of ER. That level of wuss. Anyway, I read this because I had heard that the original of 'The Shawshank Redemption' was in this collection, and I wanted to see if it was as good as the film. It was.

In fact, the film is a very faithful portrait of the original, in that, even if the details are not a hundred percent accurate, the atmosphere of the novella is identical to the atmosphere of the movie. I'm not going to describe it any more than than that. If you've seen it, you'll know what I mean. If you haven't, go watch it now.

'The Body' was the other novella I particularly wanted to read, having seen and loved 'Stand By Me', the movie it inspired. Again, I can say that the movie truly reflected the spirit of the story, keeping certain memorable scenes, such as the pie eating contest and THAT moment with the leeches. Again, if you haven't seen it, I won't spoil it for you. Just watch it. And then read it. Or the other way around.

The story I remember the least about is called 'The Breathing Method' and is a sort of tall story/horror story hybrid. It essentially tells the story of a young woman giving birth after death. I liked it, because it sends a little chill down your spine, while leaving you hopeful and cheered, but it didn't grip in the way all of the others did.

Last, but far from least, is one of the most disturbing stories I have ever read. 'The Apt Pupil' tells the story of a young American who discovers an old Nazi living in his town. He threatens the clearly haunted old man with the police unless he agrees to tell him stories of the War. In detail.

The stories gradually have their effect, and he is left with psychopathic urges he simply can't control. I won't go into it any more deeply, because it gives me the creeps. The loss of innocence in the most upsetting way possible was strongly reminiscent of 'The Lord of the Flies', which I also dislike, for similar reasons.

All in all, a gripping, brilliantly, beautifully written collection of stories, which put Stephen King up there with some of the best writers I have ever read. But all with an element of horror about them. Worth it, but don't read them alone. Really.

Love in the Time of Cholera

So here it is, as promised - a real book! Not one I've read fifty million times, not one I'm just going to rave about, but something I hope to review. Properly. This was my first encounter with Gabriel Garcia Marquez and, to be honest, I only chose LTC because it was mentioned in a really stupid film I once saw ("Serendipity", for the curious out there).

So were they right? Was it the wonderful read I was expecting? My answer to this is the fantastically eloquent 'ish'. Sort of. But not really. I mean, on the one hand, the language was beautiful and the imagery very powerful (though it's always hard to tell how much of that is down to the translation), but on the other, I never felt in sympathy with the novel.

The character I came closest to indentifying with was probably Fermina Daza, as she seemed to have the most common sense. The problem I had with it really was, I think, a temperamental incompatibility. I am not the kind of person about whom he was writing. I would not fall in love with someone at first sight and remain true to them for the rest of my life, without knowing anything of their character. I would certainly not be ill because I loved them so much.

My views of love are probably best expressed by Shakespeare "Men have died, from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love." Every character in this novel seems to disagree, all of them falling ill all over the place, from broken hearts or unbroken hearts or...

I was also unconvinced by the structure of the novel. He starts near the end, then works his way through until her matches up with it and carries on. This made the rest of the novel feel like backstory or an elaborate preamble to the end, when in fact it forms the bulk of the story, so I found myself wanting to skip most of the novel. I didn't, but it was a close call.

I did enjoy large sections of the novel and got caught up in the story more than once, but I also often ended up irritated with all of the characters, which affected my opinion of it. If you don't mind that kind of romantic melodrama, you'll probably enjoy it. If you do, I wouldn't bother.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Apparently Douglas Adams got the idea for this lying in a field in Innsbruck, drunk, with a copy of the Hitchhiker's Guide to Europe. If his trip around Europe was anything like as exciting as Arthur Dent's first experience of intergalactic hitchhiking, I'm amazed he survived (though I imagine it wasn't).

I have unfortunately never heard the original radio series, nor have I seen the BBC adaptation, though I'm told I'm not missing much there. Possibly equally unfortunately, I have seen the recent movie which got the atmosphere of the book right, the comedy right and the casting right, then managed to screw up the plot - how hard is it?! He gives it to you in the book!

Anyway, this is not a review of the film, which is good, as I might easily end up ranting nonsensically for hours on end, which would bore you all to tears in about two seconds flat. As it happens, this is an easy book to review, and kind of a cop-out - I'm not going to say anything that will cause violent disagreement (to clarify, I think it's a great book), but it's Friday, so I don't care. I'll do a hard one on Monday and probably really piss everyone off...

Ok, enough waffle! 'Hitchhiker's' tells us the story of Arthur Dent, an Englishman who is lucky enough to survive the Earth's destruction, thanks to the help of a friend of his, who happens to be an alien (the line explaining how Ford Prefect got his name is one of my favourite in the book - I especially like that it was lost on American audiences who hadn't heard of the car...).

They jump onto a Vogon ship (the Vogons are the bad guys) and are rescued from there by a ship that is powered by improbability. They meet Zaphod Beeblebrox, the President of the galaxy, with one of the best names in fiction and Trillian, originally Tricia McMillan, a woman Arthur met at a party, who is dating Zaphod. The improbability drive leads them into all sorts of adventures, but, like Wodehouse, the important thing about this novel is not the plot (which changed through all its incarnations anyway), but the writing.

Let's face it - who could not love a book that describes ships as hanging in the air "in much the same way that bricks don't" - complete nonsense, but wonderfully descriptive. My favourite character has to be Marvin (the Paranoid Android), whose pessimism in the face of the best news is hilarious. He actually reminds me strongly of Eeyore, which, I suspect, is why I like him so much...

Anyway, a fantastic read, deservedly famous and very entertaining!

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Following on in my theme of choosing books by their covers, I was first drawn to this because its cover looked so sweet. The title was an unexpected bonus. I've always liked epistolary novels (as 'Daddy-Long-Legs' should suggest), so I was well-disposed to this from the start.

I was helped in my positive view of the novel by the quality that became evident within about two pages. This is a really good novel. It's light(ish) but, because it deals in that time just post the Second World War, it has real issues to handle. We are reading the letters between a novelist who is stuck for an idea and a man who has found a book belonging to her and wants to know where he can buy more by the same author (Lamb). We look at all of her correspondence (this being her story), but her letter from him is what kicks off the plot.

She ends up visiting post-war Guernsey (which was another element of this novel I enjoyed - as a young adult [to borrow bookshop categories], I read and loved 'Tomorrow is a Stranger', which looks at Guernsey during the Nazi occupation, from the point of view of the children. The similarities between these two novels added to my sense of their veracity, which I liked) and learning about how the island fared under Nazi rule.

She meets all of the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie society, finds out how they got their name and makes a lot of very good friends. Every character we are introduced to is believable and has depth, even those from whom we hear little. The various subplots are either touching or funny or, often, both, and add to our sense of the fullness of this story.

I would say this is a great book to read if you're feeling down or have just finished reading 'Lord of the Flies' or something equally depressing and need cheering up. I can't think of anything wrong with it - I could try reading it a few more times to find something, but I have no desire to ruin a good book for myself.

The End of Mr. Y

First, a quick apology for the week-long hiatus - I've been in Wales! On the plus side though, it gave me the time to read a new book, about which I am now going to talk. I had wanted to read 'The End of Mr. Y' for some time now, having, as I always do, judged the book by its (admittedly very striking) cover. I found the first page a little difficult, but once I got past that, the story gripped me.

Our narrator, Ariel Manto (we later learn that this is a pseudonym and an anagram), is interesting and hints at a dubious past, without ever going into any detail, which I liked, though I can see how it might irritate some readers. She is a PhD student, looking into thought experiments and writing a newspaper column on the side. All of this leads her to a writer named Thomas Lumas.

His books have fallen into obscurity, with the result that they are all extremely rare, but none more so than 'The End of Mr. Y', his last novel. This is one of the rarest books in the world, with supposedly only one copy in existence. One of the reasons it is so rare is that it is rumoured to be cursed, which, understandably, puts people off it a little.

Shortly after we enter the story, a (the) copy of this novel arrives in Ariel's possession. Ignoring the curse, she decides to read it, realising as she does so from whence these curse stories have spread. The book gives a recipe for a mixture which allows the user to access the world of minds, and this is where it all goes wrong. We follow Ariel as she discovers exactly what the problem is and tries to solve it.

I found the novel intriguing and certainly wanted to read more. All of the characters are very real, and Thomas' description of this psychic world is fascinating. It reminded me a little of 'Sophie's World', in the way she used her narrative to explore ideas she had obviously been pondering for a while, though I felt she achieved a better mix than 'Sophie's World' managed.

I had a couple of issues with the ending, as I wasn't sure I agreed with the logic of their final decision, but that in no way took away from my enjoyment of the novel. I would definitely recommend it, if nothing else, for the awesomeness of reading a book with black pages!

Night Watch

Ok, I'm going to make a confession here. I read Terry Pratchett novels. I know, I know... They're written for fourteen-year-old boys. He makes the same jokes over and over. I do know, really. But if I'm going to read trash, I'd far rather read a Pratchett novel than some rom-com style story whose author can't spell or use correct grammar (this is not me making stuff up. I have actually seen books like this).

I'm also not doing down the chick-lit genre - well done, it's as good as any other form of literature. Jane Austen, after all, wrote chick-lit. However, if it's poorly done, it's positively painful. And while what Pratchett does isn't on the same level as, say Wodehouse or Douglas Adams, he does Terry Pratchett novels very well. And sometimes you need something slightly trashy (I'm thinking mostly of exam term here. I don't know about you, but I couldn't read a real book to save my life).

Anyway, preamble over, I'll move on to the actual book (isn't it funny the difference a space can make? 'move on to' being very very different from 'move onto'). I chose "Night Watch" because I think it is Pratchett's best novel. It deals with Sam Vimes, who is, admittedly, my favourite Pratchett character. In it, we follow Vimes into the past (the huge advantage of a world where magic exists is that you can just do stuff like that), to an event that proved extremely significant in his life.

The catch? He hasn't ended up there alone. He's in the company of a criminal he's following in normal time - and not just any criminal. Carcer (his name - in case you hadn't figured that out. But what am I saying? Of course you had...) is a madman. He'll kill you as soon as look at you. And he's been looking at Vimes for a long time (oooh, that sounded almost like one of voiceovers you get on trailers for action movies! I should totally write those).

Anyway, in due course it all works out - Vimes does his best to change the past, but no real harm is done. I found this Pratchett's most touching work. I think because it's the only one (or at least the only one I've read) where people die, long before their time. It has all of his usual insight into human nature (you can say what you want about his way of expressing it, but he is insightful) together with a little more depth than he normally shows.

If you're new to Pratchett, start here. If not, look this one up. Unless you've read one of his books and hated it. Then you won't like this one. Otherwise, it's worth it.

Rilla of Ingleside

This is the last of the "Anne of Green Gables" series, telling the story of her youngest daughter and how the First World War affected her. The novel begins in June 1914 with the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and takes us through until shortly after the end of the war in 1918. We follow Rilla between the ages of fifteen and nineteen, watching her grow and change throughout the novel.

As a story in itself, it is a sweet coming-of-age story, showing us how adversity can force people to become the people they are capable of being. In this case, Rilla, a self-confessed 'lily of the field', adopts a baby whose mother has died and whose father is at the front, bringing the child up with only minimal help from her parents, organises a Junior Red Cross and gets engaged.

However, what I find most interesting about this novel is not the story itself (though I do enjoy it - I'm a sucker for a decent romantic novel), but the setting of the story. I read it first when I was probably about fourteen (oh, how time passes...) and knew, really, very little about the First War. That is to say, I knew the basic facts, but I had only studied it twice, so wasn't fully informed. I come to it now, having studied the War a further three times (in French class, History and English lit.) and what a difference it makes!

Most of the War literature one reads was written either by the soldiers themselves or by people who had some experience of the War - I imagine because it was so much more readable than the jingoistic nonsense others spewed out. This, however, was definitely written from a distance and I found it fascinating seeing how the War was viewed by women as far away as Canada - the picture they had of the War was so different to the one we see today.

For a start, they believe all official communications, whereas we worldly people are well aware that much of them were lies and propaganda. For example, whenever someone was killed, the family in question was always told that they had died instantly - something we now know to have been rarely the case. The characters in this novel believe it completely, which I find very hard to empathise with, knowing what I know.

I think the reason it's still readable is firstly that it isn't solely concerned with the War - it is first and foremost the story of a young girl growing up - and secondly that she isn't trying to persuade us we should be going to war. Generally I like it, though I am aware that part of that is nostalgia and part of it is interest in the way she saw the War. As to whether you'll like it - well, all I can say is try it and see!

Wishful Drinking

My mother bought me this copy of Carrie Fisher's autobiography and I'm not sure I ever thanked her - I don't, as a rule, like autobiographies or biographies, though biographies are worse, because I don't like the sense of intrusion into someone's private life. Most autobiographies are ghost-written anyway, so there seems little point in reading them.

This one, however, was clearly not ghost-written and has buckets of personality in every line. As it was written by its subject, I didn't feel that I was sitting there going through someone's rubbish in order to get the dirt on them, which is how I usually feel (metaphorically, of course - I've never gone through someone's rubbish, so I have no real point of comparison).

Fisher is impressively honest, and tells you about her upbringing, her difficulties with drugs, her marriage to Paul Simon and her reaction to fame in detail. She has a very wry take on life, and one can't help but feel that her sense of humour may well be what's kept her alive. She seems to see the funny side of everything, even if she can't necessarily feel it, which one assumes she can't always.

My favourite chapter is the one where she rants about the Star Wars merchandise - of which, it seems, there is a truly incredible amount. From figurines, to Lego, to Pez dispensers, to (wait for it) a life-size sex doll. You know those things that come up in appalled articles in magazines every so ofter? Where they usually tell the story of some guy who's married one? Well, there's one of those in her likeness.

Can you imagine the weirdness of that? According to her, the best bit about that is that if someone tells her to go fuck herself - she can! (She says she tried it... Apparently it wasn't all that.) She happily tells you about her childhood. Not in so much detail that it gets boring (we don't find out her favourite breakfast cereal. Hey that's a good idea - have they made Star Wars cereal?), but in just enough to understand why she was the way she was.

It's also full of interesting little moments. Like, did you know when she got the part of Leia they asked her to lose 10 pounds? She weighed 105 at the time - that's 7 and a half stone... Also, she hated the hairstyle - you know, THE hairstyle. And they considered Christopher Walken for Han Solo. Imagine Star Wars without Harrison Ford...

It's a strange world alright, and Fisher does a fantastic job of expressing that in a personal and entertaining way. Definitely worth the read.

Gentlemen and Players

This is one of four Joanne Harris novels I have read and, though not my favourite, is pretty good. Unsurprisingly, my favourite is Chocolat, but G & P comes a close second. In G & P, we are concerned with the inmates of a secondary school, particularly the teachers, and the effect a series of... attacks is a bit strong. I think I'll go with events... has on them.

In typical Joanne Harris style, we hear the story through several voices, in this case, a teacher at the school and the perpetrator of the attacks (I gave up, it'll do. Whatever they are, they're definitely malicious). This gives (slowly, naturally. If it were too fast, it would spoil the surprise) us the motivation behind the meanness and the emotions of the target.

The idea behind it is an interesting one, and our villain's motivation is as reasonable as it can ever - by which I mean, it isn't reasonable, but when you're dealing with a madman, what is? The characterisation is good and the plot moves along swiftly, without feeling forced. The novel us set in England, which has the added advantage that she doesn't feel the need to scatter the text with random French words.

I felt an unexpected amount of sympathy for the villain - I say villain, but this person isn't just a villain. The character she creates is more of a particularly twisted anti-hero than just a villain, as we are expected to identify with them to a certain extent. Our victim is a rather charming teacher of the old school. The kind of teacher you always sort of wished you had. Interested in the children, strict, but not unkind, his life outside of school is cleverly drawn and gives you a new perspective on dedicated teachers.

The children are just right. We have all of those characters everyone recognises from school. The weird one who annoys everyone, the one who's just right side of cheeky, the few who hit the wrong side of cheeky... Joanne Harris' style irritates me a little sometimes, but that is a personal view, so, if you like her, I would say go for it!

Winnie the Pooh

I know, I know, it's a kids book. I do realise that, but have you read it recently? This is in the best tradition of children's books, written well enough that the adult reading it aloud can enjoy it as much as the child listening. Now, I'm sure some of you are sitting there thinking "That's all very well, but it's still unbearably twee..." That is because you are thinking of the Disney cartoon, which is indeed horribly cutsey and, as you so succinctly put it, twee.

The original, though, is so much more than that. The wry wit with which A. A. Milne writes (gosh, what alliteration!) counteracts the undeniable fact that you are reading a story about some stuffed toys (or worse, reading a blog about reading a story about some stuffed toys). Obviously, he has his moments, both good and bad. For instance, he will insist on framing his books with his poetry, which simply doesn't compare. However, once he gets on to the story proper, he sparkles.

I'm going to start off with my last remaining problem. Christopher Robin. I know he's the hero and I know it was written for hi, so he has to be present, but isn't he annoying? He's one of those children who unfortunately crop up so often in fiction and are simply too good not to irritate (I'm thinking here of such people as little Nell, Pollyanna, little Lord Fauntleroy...).

So, the best Pooh stories are those in which CR doesn't make an appearance, or at least not until the end of the story. One of my personal favourites (as opposed, I guess, to one of my impersonal favourites? I've always wondered about that expression) is the story of when Eeyore loses a tail. Mostly, I have to admit, because it features Eeyore a lot and, as you will see when I tell you my next favourite, I think Eeyore is the funniest character in he whole book.

This particular story is well named, it turns out, the bulk of the plot centring around the loss of Eeyore's tale. It's ok though, he finds it again (I thought the suspense might be upsetting you - don't worry, it's not the gritty realism type of book). The thing about stories featuring Eeyore, is that they are stuffed with such fantasic lines as '"And how are you?" said Winnie-the-Pooh. Eeyore shook his head from side to side. "Not very how," he said. "I don't seem to have felt at all how for a long time."'

I would tell you about my other favourite Pooh story, but it's in "House at Pooh Corner", so it would be cheating. I will say, though, that it features Eeyore, Pooh Sticks and people falling into rivers, and I can highly recommend it. Avoid the last couple of stories though, as they're all about CR leaving, and not really worth it.

Rebecca

"Rebecca" is the second Daphne Du Maurier novel I read. This is reasonably unusual for me, as I tend to start with an author's best known works, partly because they seem likely to be their best and partly because they're the most likely to come up in conversation, giving me the chance to pronounce loftily "Oh yes, I've read that one - subpar, I felt..."

The first Daphne Du Maurier I read was "My Cousin Rachel", chosen largely on the basis that it had my name in its title, even if it was an inferior spelling. I read it only once, and remember very little of it. "Rebecca", by contrast, gripped me almost immediately and I sped through it. It is slightly creepier than I usually like my novels, but not so much as to give me nightmares, which are often my fate after a particularly ghost-oriented story (and are the reason I avoid such stories in all their forms).

"Rebecca" is the tale of a young couple and their attempt to make marriage work in the shadow of the groom's late wife. She (the eponymous Rebecca) is spoken of by all of his (Maxim's) friends as a model of virtue, the perfect wife and the life and soul of every party. Du Maurier's twist is clever and, to me at least (though I accept that I may be revealing myself as unforgivably slow), far from obvious.

The characters were cleverly drawn, if not entirely realistic. It struck as rather unlikely that anyone as threatening as Mrs Danvers, the housekeeper, ever actually existed (outside of an asylum at any rate) and Rebecca herself seemed to me unlike anyone I've ever met.

Despite these faults, it's a very clever tale, with just the right amount of spine-chillingness (I assert my right to make up words as I please - it's my blog after all), though the ending always leaves me feeling slightly wistful. The story is peopled with interesting characters, some of whom are extremely appealing, others equally off-putting and I rooted for our heroine right the way through till the end.

A cat called Norton

This is one I picked up at random in a bookshop one day. I had no idea what sort of book it was going to be, but it had a picture of a kitten on the cover and I'm a sucker for cat pictures (really - I even like those stupid lolcat pictures). It turned out to be not exactly an autobiography (by which I mean it's autobiographical, it's not a story in the normal sense of the word, but it's also not a full autobiography. You describe it better. Go on).

The tagline tells us that it's "the true story of an extraordinary cat and his imperfect human", which is as good a way to explain it as any. We follow Peter through his relationship with his cat (whose arrival he strongly resisted, until he actually met Norton), passing by relationships with girlfriends, life and his work on the way.

The first thing I have to say about this book is, if Norton really can do everything Peter claims he can, he really is extraordinary. I want one. And I already have a cat (boy, I hope she doesn't read this. THAT would get awkward...). I mean, I can definitely see why he's so nuts about the cat. It is one awesome animal.

The rest of the book is also very entertaining. Peter humorously tells us about the problems he's had in his life (some of which are solved by Norton, some of which are a direct result of his owning Norton) in such a way that we don't notice that he has effectively talked nonstop about himself for a whole book. I cared about both Peter and Norton, and am currently investigating the existence of a sequel (seriously. I have Amazon open right now), as I really want to know what happened next.

It's in a clever framework, so we don't feel that we're being lectured, and reads in a much less self-centred way than most autobiographies do. Which is good, as I had no idea who the author was before I read this, so a full on autobiography would not have gone down well. Basically, if it taught me anything, it's that books with kittens on the cover are always good. Always.

Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

This was my second attempt at reading (and liking) Joyce. I tried first with "Dubliners" and got myself into a terrible tangle, owing to Joyce's habit of numbering his short stories and my (unfortunate) lack of knowledge about the work in which I was attempting to immerse myself. My misapprehension led, as you have no doubt already figured out (you really are terribly clever, did you know that?), to a belief that the different stories were, in fact, chapters of a novel. This belief lasted through at least three stories, at which point my confusion over why none of the characters from the first chapter had yet reappeared was suddenly resolved in a moment's revelation.

The muddle I felt over that has put me off ever trying "Dubliners" again, so I have no real impression of that piece of his work. I moved on to "Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" (henceforth PAYM, to save my sanity), because I had been told that it was a good preliminary to "Ulysses" and that one should read "Ulysses" before moving on to "Finnegans Wake" (I should come clean - if I persist with Joyce, it won't be for any appreciation of his talents as writer. I just want to be able to tell people that I've read "Finnegans Wake").

Anyway, I struggled through PAYM for the first time a few years ago. I was underwhelmed, to say the least. I then re-read it, thinking that maybe I was too hasty in condemning it the first time. Sadly, this did not turn out to be the case, and I've resisted all urges to try a third time, as I know I won't enjoy it.

That is not to say that Joyce is a bad writer. There are bits of PAYM which are fantastic, and his command of language is wonderful. He's fabulously descriptive and has an uncanny ability to choose exactly the right word for any given situation. I still didn't like it.

It wasn't difficult to read, or at least, not in the way people usually mean when referring to Joyce. The plot is easy to follow - we basically just watch a young man growing up. No, the problem I had with it was the hero. Stephen is incredibly obnoxious, and irritatingly self-satisfied. If, as is suggested by their matching biographical details, Stephen is modelled on Joyce himself, I'm not in the least surprised that no-one liked him.

This, then is where my problem with the novel lies. Stephen as a child is engaging, and I cared about what happened to him. As an adolescent and young adult, he is impossible. I wouldn't have cared what happened to him, had he not been very slightly less insufferable happy than sad.

I do intend to attempt "Ulysses" at some point (when I have gathered enough courage), and I hope I'll find it more palatable that PAYM. Unfortunately, I am beginning to think that it's not the novels I dislike, but Joyce himself, in which case, I don't see myself warming to "Ulysses" or "Finnegans Wake" any more than I did to PAYM.

Olivia Joules and the Overactive Imagination

So, I've spent the last ten minutes trying to decide what to write about (the advantage of all that reading I mentioned - you do remember that don't you? Maybe you should re-read all of my posts, just to be sure - is that I don't actually have to read a new book for every blogpost) and, after much thought (ten minutes worth, in fact), I plumped for "Olivia Joules". It has many advantages, not least of which is the fact that I happened to have read it recently, so I remember my thoughts.

It is the novel Helen Fielding wrote after "Bridget Jones", and has many of the merits of the aforementioned work. In brief, it is the story of freelance journalist, Olivia Joules and her overactive imagination. Now, aren't you glad you read the review? Wasn't that helpful? Oh, ok then, I'll be a little less brief. If you insist. Olivia, we are told, has got into trouble for her imagination on a few occasions, so is now more or less stuck in the Style section of the newspapers to whom she sells her stories. This upsets her, as she wants to cover "real stories", so, when she is sent to Miami for a fashion piece, her imagination goes into overdrive.

Inevitably, her suspicions turn out to be, while not entirely accurate, at least in the right ballpark, and she is swept away in a whirlwind of adventure, involving spies, actors and Al-Qaeda. Fielding uses her heroine as a chance to express her personal views on the Iraq war (or at least, I assume they're her views), but she manages to do this without becoming tiresome or nagging.

I'm not going to go into more detail about the plot, but it's all rather implausible in the best kind of way. Olivia has all of the warmth of Bridget Jones with some extra self-confidence and without the self-help books. The novel is, unfortunately, not quite the same standard as her previous work, but it comes pretty damn close. The difference, I think, is that in this novel, Fielding is not writing in the first person, but as an omniscient narrator, which leads her into the temptation of occasionally adding in some chick-lit-ish descriptive passages, which aren't really necessary.

These rare slips aside though, its a fun novel, entertainingly written and satisfies all of the escapism demands one has of light novels. I really enjoyed it and have re-read it several times. Perfect for those moments when you want entertainment, but haven't the energy to read a tougher novel.

A Mathematician's Miscellany

I'm afraid I may have to apologise for this post - I'm going to nerd out on you for the first, but probably not the last, time. You see, unfortunately, I have spent the last four years reading maths at university, and that sort of thing leaves its mark. In my case, it's an inability to pass any kind of popular maths book without experiencing a strong desire to read it. I have noticed, as a result of this penchant, firstly that very few non-scientists will read science books of any kind, and secondly that most books of popular science and maths are very accessible to, well, anyone - whether or not they are scientists by nature.

I shall, therefore, occasionally review science books as well, in the vague hope of righting this wrong, and I am going to start with Littlewood's Miscellany. This more or less does as it says on the tin. It is a short collection of mathematical oddities and items of interest. Most of these are accessible to pretty much anyone who is willing to read them, and the few that aren't are helpfully marked by the author with stars.

The reason I chose this book to start with is that Littlewood, unlike most mathematicians, is a very engaging writer. He has a strong sense of humour and is quite happy to laugh at himself and his fellow mathematicians (especially his fellow mathematicians!). This is not really a book to be read cover-to-cover (for me to be saying this is unusual to say the least. I am one of nature's cover-to-cover readers. I've even read joke books from cover to cover!), rather it should be dipped into at random moments.

Leave it somewhere in your house where you are frequently bored. For instance, if you find you are often ready to leave the house long before the rest of your family, you might keep it by the door & read as you wait. Or, if you are forced to watch a lot of sports matches in which you have little or no interest, keep in the living room and dip in and out of it as your interest in the match ebbs away and rises again.

I can recommend starting with the second and third chapters, which, consisting of errors made by the good (and indeed great!) mathematicians of the past, will serve to reassure you that mathematicians are not necessarily people of inhuman intelligence, but are as silly (and often petty) as anyone else. I can also recommend the chapter on large numbers, simply for the awe one experiences as one realises just how large large can be.

My final thoughts on the matter then (I'm fast running out of ways to express the word conclusion - I may have to cycle around the synonyms I've found thus far!), are that this is an entertaining read, worth it for chapters two and three alone, if , like me, you enjoy reading about others' errors. However, if you find the maths a bit too off-putting for you, don't worry, my next will be back to my fictional best! (oh dear, that sort of sounds as though I were making all this up. I'm not, I promise... Put it down to poor phrasing please...)

Wodehouse

Having had a go at a few books now, I've decided to devote this post to the works of P.G. Wodehouse. I'm not going to review a single novel, for several reasons. Firstly, I couldn't possibly choose one. Secondly, if you like one, you're likely to like all of them (and, indeed, vice-versa) and finally, the plots are all pretty similar, so going through them one by one seems rather redundant.

I can sketch you a standard Wodehouse plot, for those of you who are interested. His most frequently recurring plot is boy meets girl, boy loves girl, boy and girl get engaged. Then someone, usually an aunt or stern uncle, chucks a spanner in the works and all is doom and gloom until it resolves itself, almost magically. He has a few variations on the genre, most notably the Jeeves and Wooster novels, in which the boy and girl are never our protagonists, but unfortunate friends of Bertie's, and the tangle in which they find themselves is resolved by Jeeves.

The reason to read Wodehouse is the language. He is genuinely hilarious (for which reason, it seems, people find it hard to give him the credit he deserves - if it's funny, it can't be art is the logic. Or so I'm told) and somehow manages never to repeat a simile or metaphor. I read once that he used to stick every page he was working on to his wall. If it was going well, he stuck it high up, if it was going badly, it went somewhere around knee-level. His aim was to have every page near the picture-rail before he was done. The testament to this method of writing is that his novels all look almost effortless and, as we all know, that's one of the marks of truly brilliant writing (unfortunately, it's also one of the marks of terrible writing, so, as a system, it isn't foolproof).

The only problem I have with Wodehouse is that I find myself wandering around, wanting to read bits to people, which, inevitably, irritates them (I should really control that urge...). His other bad habit is making me laugh out loud in public places, which results in people giving me odd looks, and my face colouring to match a ripe tomato. However, the enjoyment I get from his work is such that I'll forgive him.

The characters he creates are absurdly privileged, and live in a world most of us can't even imagine, and yet, despite all this, they are almost uniformly charming - I suppose because they are all evidently so well-disposed towards their fellow man (apart from the villains, obviously. If his villains were that likeable, the whole thing would become ridiculous).

There isn't really much of a conclusion to make to this post, though I will sum up by telling you that, although he is a pleasure to read, if you're into plot-driven, fast-moving novels, with tough-talking characters and other hyphenated attributes, he's probably not the man for you. Otherwise, go for it. You'll know by page three whether you like it or not anyway, so you've nothing to lose and if you do like him, I can say that I have found a good Wodehouse, on a sunny day with a cold drink, to be one of life's greatest pleasures. Or, indeed, a good Wodehouse on a rainy day with a warm drink (let's face it, far more likely in England). In fact, just get hold of a good Wodehouse, and you're sorted (no need to worry about that part of it, they're pretty much all good!).

And, just to convince you, I think we can all agree that a man who can use a phrase like "ice formed on the butler's upper slopes" as a throwaway line is worthy of our respect.

Our Mutual Friend

You know that moment when you're chatting to a stranger and you suddenly realise you have mutual friends? The excitement as you work out how close you've been to each other in the past? Well, that is sort of what this novel's about. But mostly not. I'm not going to run through the plot in detail with you, because it's extremely long, very convoluted and I'll almost certainly misremember some detail, thus destroying your whole impression of the novel.

The basic idea is as follows. Man goes missing, presumed dead. A large legacy, intended for him, goes elsewhere. The woman he was ordered to marry by his, now late, father is left widowed without having ever been married. The new legatees, to compensate her for her disappointment, effectively adopt her. Strange man shows up, no-one knows where from, and shows an unusual interest in the girl and the legatees. Do you see where this is going? (I don't feel bad about making it obvious, as Dickens does himself and, indeed, tells us he intended to!)

Spoiler alert! In brief, the girl learns a lesson about the value of money, the fortune returns to its rightful owner and he falls in love with and marries the girl. So much for the main plot. However, this being Dickens, there are about 500 other, smaller plots going on in the background, into which I will not go. Suffice it to say that they include a character rather more villainous and grotesque than humanly possible as well as one more angelic and beautiful than one might reasonably expect to come across in one's lifetime, I suppose to create a balance.

The point, though, is not really the plot, it's the writing and characterisation. Which are fabulous. I think that this is one of Dickens' more underrated novels - the characters are, for the most part, very real and the writing is hilarious. I found it hugely entertaining, and sped through it faster than I have many a shorter novel (Wuthering Heights springs to mind here). It also contains one of my favourite moments of any novel. The exposition of the central mystery is fantastic in its clumsiness.

You can clearly see Dickens sitting there thinking "Hmmmm, I need to explain how such a misunderstanding came about... How to do it subtly and naturally? How? Oh, sod it, I'll just shove in a soliloquy!" Our main character simply, under the guise of "thinking it through", tells the reader, in detail, what happened to him - it's brilliant!

I also really liked Bella and found her little sulks and her obsession with money completely realistic for a girl in her circumstances. In her, Dickens creates a believeable difficult teenager (and a rather less irritating one than many - Harry Potter in "The Order of the Phoenix", to name but one). I also enjoyed Eugene's monents - more, I think, than Dickens did, as he, bafflingly, dislikes Eugene until his near-deathbed reformation.

In conclusion (a phrase I've always wanted an excuse to use), the writing is compelling and very very funny, the characters are generally believable and likeable (this is no "Old Curiosity Shop") and the plot entertaining, if not always completely convincing. A fantastic way to get into Dickens, and a great read!

Daddy-Long-Legs

This is one of my favourite novels. It is also one of my favourite rant topics, so you're in for a treat! Firstly, I suppose I should tell you something about the story, otherwise those of you who are looking for a brief synopsis and review will be left scratching your heads perplexedly as I rant on and on (and, knowing me, on and on and...).

The story begins in the John Grier orphanage, where we meet Jerusha Abbott, our protagonist. After a brief introductory chapter, in which we are brought up to speed on her life so far, we learn that a trustee of the orphanage has decided to send her to college, and the story proper begins. It takes the form of letters from Jerusha to said trustee (whom she calls Daddy-long-legs, due to his height) detailing the highs and lows of her daily life.

The letters are very sweet - Judy (she changes her name pretty fast. I don't blame her, I've never even heard of the name Jerusha, so I can't imagine having to live with it) is a charming narrator and the plot (and love story!) proceeds very happily, without at any point feeling contrived. The characters are real and one could imagine oneself sitting down for a coffee with almost any of them (not Julia. But then you aren't meant to). I was able to relate to her emotions and changes of feeling even if I couldn't quite relate to the experience (I've never been to an American university, especially not in the late 19th century. Have you?). Good! I have now finished my summary of the novel, and given you my opinion (I love, love, love it!).

Now, on to the rant... First, a spoiler alert - this is the bit where I give away some of the ending... It may sound like it, but I'm not about to complain about the novel. I think it's a fantastic novel, with no important faults, so I don't intend to bitch. No, I'm going vent about other reviews of the novel. The number of times I have read reviews that imply that Jervis is a paedophile, grooming his future wife from the age of about 12 is ridiculous. These are reviewers who have not read the novel.

Firstly, he meets her at 18. I cannot emphasise this enough. 18, people! (ok, maybe 17, but still...) In the UK, she would have been legal for almost two years, and even in the States, she either is legal or is about to be, when she hears her good fortune. I now realise I've made a slight mistake - he doesn't even meet her at the start of the novel! That's when we meet her. He doesn't meet her until he pops up to "visit Julia". So he clearly is not a paedophile (because she's an adult - I know I've laboured the point, but, listening to other reviewers, it's necessary) and, as he had no real idea of her existence until the day he heard her essay, he can't have been grooming her.

He may attempt to shape her views and encourage her to think more once he has met her, but that is no more than anyone does when they fall for someone who has slightly different views to them. Or at least it's what I do - I don't use as light a hand as he does either! My tendency is more towards simply ordering whoever the lucky boy is to agree with me (but then no-one's ever accused me of subtlety).

In summary, I love this novel (did you get that? I'm not sure it came through...), but I do feel that it has been unfairly maligned and I think some reviewers would do well to read the damn thing before they panic about paedophilic implications which simply aren't there.

The Curious Incident of the dog in the night-time

I love reading. I mean, I really love reading. Ever since I first learned to read, I've had my nose in a book. Rather like Lily Bollinger and her champagne, I read to cheer myself up when I'm sad, to celebrate when I'm happy, to clear my head when I'm confused or to entertain myself when I'm bored. It suddenly occurred to me that, as a result of this, I have read a very large number of books. Not all great quality, by any means, but I've certainly achieved quantity.

Now, I don't know about you, but before I embark on a novel, even an acknowledged classic such as "War and Peace" (in view of its length, especially before a classic such as "War and Peace"), I want a clear idea of what I'm getting myself into. So, that is what I hope to provide - I intend to write informal reviews of all the books I read, more or less as I read them.

I want to start with the last book I read (not "War and Peace". In the interests of strict honesty, I should tell you that, not having read a definite opinion, I haven't yet attempted "War and Peace"), which is "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time".

I had, as I'm sure you have, heard a lot about it. The writing-as-an-autistic-kid gimmick definitely helped sales for that one! What I wasn't sure about was whether the hype would turn out to be justified. Having read it, I'm still not sure. On the one hand, our narrator is very likeable, his quest rather sweet and the twist, though not entirely unexpected, perfectly acceptable for this kind of novel. The author, having built us up to expect some sort of mystery novel, rather neatly turns it around into a different kind of novel altogether (though I'm not sure I could classify it - a family troubles novel? Maybe?).

I liked the way Christopher sets about his investigation and some of the characters were very appealing (I warmed to Siobhan). Saying that though, I don't think it really works. The first issue I had was with the resolution of Christopher's mystery (Spoiler alert - I'm going to tell you whodunit...).

Christopher's father is presented to us as a calm man, who doesn't get agitated and is much better at dealing with his son than the boy's mother is. Would a man like that be rash enough and, not to put too fine a point on it, psychotic enough to stab his ex-girlfriend's dog to death because she left him? I can absolutely understand why Christopher is scared of him. I would be, wouldn't you?

And yet Christopher's fear is presented to us as though it were a result of his condition, not the natural reaction to discovering that your father, who recently hit you, is a kind of male Glenn Close (in Fatal Attraction, obviously. Not just Glenn Close. That would be a bit harsh). I also found the police's reaction to this a bit odd. If I told the police that my ex had gone crazy and stabbed my dog with a fork, I'd expect more than "Oh? Ok, fair enough. Anything else?"

My verdict then, was that this was an entertaining read, with a narrator to whom I warmed and some interesting ideas. However, the plot holes and inconsistencies bothered me, and I felt that an awful lot of its reputation had come from the person narrating it, rather than an appraisal of the novel itself.