If you like Sebastien Faulkes' work, then whatever you do, don't read this book. It's utterly self indulgent and the characters are wooden puppets plonked into the book to give it some semblance of fiction. As I was reading it, I couldn't give a damn about any of the characters and some of the dialogue is absolute tripe. What kept me reading was the historical stuff about our developing understanding of human madness, there's nothing like the ignorance of 100 years ago to make you realise how you take so much for granted today. Dava Sobel did this kind of stuff much better in Longitude and Galiléo's Daughter - I think Sebastien Faulkes needs to stick with good old fiction.
There's a lot to be said for getting a writer to write your biography for you. Nelson Mandela is a freedom fighter, not a writer and I think that if you hadn't watched some of the events in his life on TV, or boycotted South African products yourself, his story might not capture your imagination in the way it deserves to.
The tone of the book is utterly matter of fact and told in strict chronological order. He speaks of his marriages, the birth of his children and the death of his mother in the same way he speaks of travelling around Africa asking foreign governments for money and arms to support the military arm of the ANC.
I had an image of Nelson Mandela as a remarkably humble man, with an extraordinary capacity for forgiveness. That does come through in the book, but there is another side too - the determined, calculating politician, the master tactician - a man on a mission.
OK, so I was supposed to be on a blog break, but I got distracted by a request from CaptainNavarre who wants to know if all I ever read is books about coastal navigation.....ffice
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Combien lisez-vous de livres par an ? (how many books do you read in a year?)
Lots. At least 50. The rhythm varies, I can go a whole week without reading at all and then have a splurge when I read 3 or 4, especially if I’m travelling and stuck on trains or in airports.
Quel est le dernier livre que vous ayez acheté ? (what’s the last book you bought ?)
I try to read one French book for every 3 English books, it takes me about twice as long to read a book in French than in English.
Last English book : A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry). An unknown to me, but the author has been shortlisted for the Booker several times so I thought I’d give him a whirl.
Last French book : Coule la ffice:smarttags" />
Quel est le dernier livre que vous ayez lu ? (what’s the last book you read ?)
Last English book : Disgrace (J M Coetzee) I’ll be stocking up on some of his other books when I go back to the
Last French book : Coule la
Listez 5 livres qui comptent beaucoup pour vous ou que vous avez particulièrement appréciés : (list 5 books which mean a lot to you or that you particularly liked)
Little Women (Louisa M Alcott) The only book guaranteed to get me bursting into tears despite the fact I’ve read it about 5 times. The defining book of my girl-hood. Full of sentimental wholesome slush.
Memoirs of a Fox-hunting Man (Siegfried Sassoon) I could have chosen Wilfred Owen’s poetry, or even Sassoon’s but I’m not that much of a poetry reader despite having gone through a ‘war poetry’ phase as a teenager. This choice could also have been Birdsong by Sebastien Faulkes, but this list seems to be a bit of a chronological one and I didn’t read Birdsong until much later.
The Magus (John Fowles) Another book which I read several times, just to get over the shock that the writer had completely taken me in. He was playing with my mind.
Cancer Ward (A Solzhenitzyn) A very sad human book.
A Prayer for Owen Meaney (John Irving) Hilarious and also made me cry. I like John Irving for his humour and optimism.
A qui allez-vous passer le relais (3 blogs) et pourquoi ? (Who will you pass these questions onto and why?)
belgianwaffle because I’m after some new book recommendations and I’m sure she’ll come up with some good ones
heatherjb because she’s good at writing so must be good at reading too
sticksville because I’ve never read any Chinese literature and maybe she could come up with something (in translation please!)
This is about so many things it's tricky to identify what got me hooked - it wasn't really the plot, as you pretty much know what is going to happen, if not the precise details then the general idea (seriously ill nice guy takes in seemingly simpleton pretty girl against the advice of well meaning friends and relatives .... guess who gets blamed by the friends and relatives when things go badly wrong?) I think it was the hope that Mr Nasty (Dmitri the pimp/waiter) would get his come-uppance and realise the error of his ways ...... (he doesn't) and the hope that despite all the prejudice, abuse and deception in the world it can all be overcome by kindness and trust (it can, sort of, if given half a chance ... but who gives or takes that chance?).
I liked it, it was thought provoking and complex. The one thing which didn't work for me was the tattooed girl herself, I couldn't believe how attractive she was supposed to be. If a man reads the book I'd like to know if he believes her to be attractive. Let me know.
You have to leave a big gap between reading Anne Tyler novels, because they are all so similar. A character from one could quite easily appear in another and you wouldn't really be any the wiser. I loved the first one I read, The Ladder of Years, and I've liked all the others too - but you get exactly what you have come to expect with every single novel. Slightly off centre but entirely normal people, leading everyday lives along with people with slighly odd names and vaguely, but only slightly disturbed family backgrounds. Her characters always notice little mannerisms about each other which tell us lots about who they are and what they think ..... So I can't really think of anything original to say about this one. Time for another long gap before the next one.
I resisted reading this for ages, thinking it would be yet another heart-warming, vibrant account of cultural quirkiness, elsewhere rootedness (?) and coming of age. And as it turned out I wasn't far wrong. I enjoyed reading it and I cried in all the right places and as intended actually grew to like Chanu, the blustering but well meaning husband. But I wasn't entranced or disturbed, nor even enlightened - just entertained. It did make we want a decent curry though. 6/10
The first and last page of this book are pure poetry, the rest is an eye-opening insight into 15th century Muslim, Arabic, Egyptian, Catholic culture.... Léon actually existed, he was the adopted son of Pope Léon, kidnapped by Italian pirates (shiver me timbers me' ol' hearty, ciao) to serve the papacy. He witnessed the conquest of Granada by the Catholics and the sacking of Rome (by the Lutherans) and spoke Arabic, Turkish, Italian and Hebrew.... He had four wives. Great stuff. For the francophiles amongst you, how's this for pure poetry:
Mais n'est-ce pas un peu ce que je fais : qu'ai je gagné, qu'ai je perdu, que dire au Créancier suprême? Il m'a prêté quarante années, que j'ai dispersées au gré des voyages : ma sagesse a vécu à Rome, ma passion au Caire, mon angoisse à Fès, et à Grenade vit encore mon innocence.
Here goes for a fumbled translation:
Isn't that a bit like me though : what have I gained, what have I lost, what account could I provide to my godly creditor ? He loaned me forty years which I've spent along my travels : my wisdom lived in Rome, my passion in Cairo, my worries in Fes, and my innocence is still alive in Grenada.