Unforeseen

The first thing that comes into my mind when you mention rope bridges is the one that appears so dramatically in the film 'The Man Who Would be King', and the scene at the end where Sean Connery plunges to his death. It is exactly the kind of bridge that is described in 'The Bridge of San Luis Rey' by Thornton Wilder (a novel that won the author a Pulitzer Prize in 1928), it is based on a real Inca bridge that was still in use in the 19th century, and the book pursues the stories of the five travellers who also plunge to their deaths when the bridge gives way as they are crossing.

The opening part tells us of this terrible accident, and the impact it had on the people of Peru, and most crucially on Brother Juniper, the only witness to the event, and his determination to find some meaning in the apparently random loss of life. He is determined to bring some science to religion and so prove that God acts in the world; right from the outset he has in his mind the outcome he desires from his research (I'm pretty sure that's unscientific) but in the end the church burns him as a heretic, along with his book.

The Marquesa de Montemayor and her servant Pepita are the first story. The Marquesa, Dona Maria, spends her life mourning the loss of her daughter, who is not dead, but who failed to return the adoration she feels and accepted a marriage proposal that would take her as far from her mother as she could go. Dona Maria writes endless letters to her daughter, seeking some sign of the love she craves, allowing her own existence to become meaningless. Pepita has been placed as her companion by MadreMaria del Pilar, the Abbess at the convent that raised her.

Esteban is another of MadreMaria del Pilar's orphans, who is suffering inconsolably following the death of his twin brother Manuel. In her attempts to protect him from his own misery she arranges for Captain Alvarado to offer him employment, an agreement which leads to his crossing the bridge at the fateful moment. He is linked to the other travellers because his brother had been in love with a certain actress called Camila Perichole, protégée and mother respectively to the final two unfortunate travellers.

Uncle Pio is returning to Lima with Jaime, whom he has undertaken to protect and educate, following his mother's withdrawal from a society that she has worked so hard to integrate into. He is the most enigmatic of the characters having led a somewhat dissolute life, his protective relationship with the Perichole is his saving grace, he mentors her acting and promotes her career, until she decides she wants to leave behind this disreputable profession and seek social acceptability. Despite the rift between them he determines to save her son Jaime from isolation after she is scarred by smallpox and retreats from the city.

It is really the closing part that draws together the aftermath of the accident, focussing on the people left behind. The Abbess is visited by Dona Clara, the daughter of the Marquesa, who's rejection had caused her so much suffering, seeking, it seems, some kind of redeption for her behaviour. The Abbess suffers her own sense of loss, for she had hoped to mould Pepita in her own image, to continue her work with the poor and the desperate of Lima after her death. She is also visited by Camila Perichole, inconsolable from the death of her son and the removal of her two daughters to school in Spain, again seeking to make some sense of what has happened. But I was left with the feeling that some consolation comes from these new bonds and that positive changes could result.

The writing reminded me very much of Gabriel Garcia Marquez; maybe it's just something about Latin America and the way of life there, the formal way in which people are named, and the historical setting, it made me think of 'Love in the Time of Cholera'. It is the lovely quiet little details about the people and their setting that really make the book, give you a sense of them being real. But the book is really about the meaning of life. It is a philosophical reflection on whether life and death can be meaningful. Not just from a religious point of view, but in the general sense of whether there is purpose in the choices we make and the lives we lead, when it can all disappear to abruptly, unforeseen. I liked it because it did not try and give any answers, but just told the stories of the people who die and the convoluted ways their lives are interconnected and interdependent. The book is about these bonds between people, and how important they are to the meaning of life. All of the characters in the story had stong bonds with the others that affected their lives in powerful ways: Esteban's bond with his twin was so strong that his life became unbearable without him. His devotion to Manuel is shown most poignantly in his reaction to the love affair with Camila and then Manuel's injury and infection that led to his death. Dona Maria's devotion to her daughter simply dominates her life, but her love demands so much in return that the girl's only defense is to run away. Uncle Pio, so selfish for the most part, is equally devoted to Camila, unable to stay away even when she banishes him from her home. Pepita becomes strangely devoted to Dona Maria, in spite of really being a very lonely and confused young girl. I ended up feeling that really the Abbess, MadreMaria del Pilar, was the central character of the book. Her devotion to the poor, unloved and unwanted people is the ultimate example of selfish selflessness. She is afraid that no one can take on her role because no one will have quite the same level of commitment and devotion, how can she trust anyone to do the job properly. Then she finds Pepita, and works to instill in her all the atributes and virtues she feels are necessary. And then Pepita is taken from her, and she finally realises that there is only herself and she must do what she can in her life and not concern herself with what might happen after.

I'm not sure I have really managed to get across the subtleties of this tale but I hope it might interest some out there. Another very short book (120 pages), and one that will give a great deal of food for thought.

Introduction to Poetry

'Short and Sweet - 101 very short poems' edited by Simon Armitage

For some reason I started out reading the introduction to this little book, rather than just flicking casually through and reading at random, as is mostly the case with poetry books. I am beginning to wonder if maybe poets have arranged their books with much care, and that you are supposed to read them in the prescribed order, that there is something subtle to be gained from doing so that I am missing out on. This collection is arranged by size, so if read in one sitting, you get a slight sense of acceleration as they get shorter and shorter and you turn the pages more swiftly (though some you might pause at and read again), until the final one, which is title but no actual poem: 'On Going to Meet a Zen Master in the Kyushu Mountains and Not Finding Him' by Don Paterson.

Simon Armitage (who's very thought provoking introduction makes me want to read his poems) talks about the nature of words, how they were precious when literacy was less common, and how in the digital age mass communication and intrusive advertising seems to have devalued words. He comments on how it is short poems that stay in the mind, being easier to remember and hence "more successful" (assuming success in poetry equates with people recognising it), whereas longer poems are taken as being serious, as if length is important to make you mark. But he does not necessarily agree:

"And yet the short poem, at its best, brings about an almost instantaneous surge of both understanding and sensation unavailable elsewhere; its effect should not be underestimated and its design not confused with convenience." (p. xi)

He goes on to define 'short' so that readers can see the parameters that have defined his selection. The sonnet, at 14 lines he decides has stepped over the mark of brevity, being structurally defined, and so he begins at 13 lines. Then he says something very helpful about poetry in general that in definitely worth quoting:

"As far as I can tell, there are two kids of poets: those who want to tell stories and sing songs, and those who want to work out the chemical equation for language and pass on their experiments as poems."

I just loved this way of expressing the subtlety, "the chemical equation for language". Then he goes on to define a poem, also helpful:

"a poem is a poem when its context declares it: e.g. here is a group of words that appears alongside other poems, in a book with the word poetry in its title, edited by a poet, published by a press famous for publishing poetry: it is a poem."

It reminds me of the assertion that 'art' is art if it is made by an 'artist'. I liked him even more when he declared that he would resist the sensed obligation to include some haiku, so you really get the feeling that he has chosen these poems out of liking and respect, not because of reputation or just because they fit the category.

I decided to quote two contributions. Now much as I love D.H. Lawrence's 'Piano' I will resist the temptation to quote it, I'm sure you can read it online somewhere. Instead from among the 'longer' ones I chose one that I did not know but was hauntingly poignant, 'Second Marriage' by Stanley Cook:

The sky stopped crying and in a sudden smile

Of childish sunshine the rain steams on the roofs;

Widow who has married widower

Poses outside the Registry for photographs.

Their grown up children are there

And damp confetti like a burst from a bag

Accumulated from a morning's marriage

Is second hand for them against the door.

In the wood of the world where neither of them is lost

They take each other by the hand politely;

Borrowers going to and from the Library

Passing through the group as if it were a ghost.

And from the other, more brief, end of the book. Again I resisted Carol Ann Duffy's 'Mrs Darwin' (and 'The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner', as I didn't want two poignant ones), and picked out instead 'An Expedition' by Peter Didsbury:

Down to the end of the garden in the night

With cigarette and glass of ice-cold milk.

I pick my way over heaps of builders' rubble

Light from the new kitchen window comes along too.

And if you pop over to Dunk's blog he has been experimenting with a new camera in the dark, and click on the first photo (this will enlarge it), it accompanies this poem quite nicely (though he never drinks milk:-).

The Driver's Seat

'The Driver's Seat' by Muriel Spark has got to be one of the most disturbing books I have read since Shirley Jackson's 'We Have Always Lived in the Castle'. I have been keen to read something else by her since I read 'Not to Disturb' back in December and this has been on the pile for a few weeks now.

The introduction to the book talks at length about the strength of Muriel Spark's novel openings, how they grab the reader with questions about the characters and circumstances of the story, and this is certainly true of The Driver's Seat. In the first sentence we find a woman buying a new dress, but her adverse reaction to the innocuous comments of the salesgirl leads you to realise within a few lines that there is something very wrong with this woman. We are told about her working life, and shown a picture of her stifled and highly controlled home, and you try to cut her a little slack, put her strange behaviour down to stress, but her actions become more and more bizarre as the story progresses.

Lise is taking a holiday, her first in quite some time. She buys an outrageous outfit, flamboyant to the point of garish, packs her things with just a hint of OCD, and goes off to catch her flight. When she is just described doing things when alone you could see that perhaps she is somewhat stressed, and possibly a little eccentric, but it is when she comes into contact with other people that her behaviour takes a turn for the worse. You think to begin with that she is trying to make an impression, pretending at the airport to be a seasoned traveller, and then engaging her neighbours in conversation on the plane, about things which are plainly invented. With each encounter it is as if she becomes a different person, from the flight attendants, to the concierge at the hotel, the shop assistants, the taxi driver, and, of course, poor unsuspecting Mrs Fiedke. Each one gets a different tale; she almost seems to relish the enjoyment of creating a new story for herself, going to unnecessary lengths to explain her thoughts and actions to people.

The reader is told right out that this is a kind of murder mystery in reverse. We are informed that the outcome of this holiday is that Lise will be found dead the following morning. What we are doing is observing the build up to the event. There are frequent mentions of how small characters that Lise encounters during the course of the day will recite to the police their part in the events in question. Let me tell you this does not detract from the book in any way. You are just constantly wondering why and how things are going to evolve. Each individual action or event is so innocuous, there are no 'bad' characters and even Lise' crazy behaviour seems on the surface to be totally harmless.

She seems to be searching for a man. She tells Mrs Fiedke that he is her boyfriend, and that she is expecting to meet him, but she does not know where. She keeps talking to the most unsavoury of men, and then announcing categorically that they are 'not her type'. She spends the day shopping with Mrs Fiedke, starting with a taxi journey where Lise stuffs her passport down the back of the taxi seat, telling her she is leaving it there for safe keeping. It is the first hint that she does not plan to be needing it again. She proceeds to buy a selection of random items, and then wanders off, losing interest when her companion fails to emerge from the toilets. They get caught up in some kind of student riot that has got out of hand, and become separated again. At this point the real downward spiral begins, as if with the approach of evening Lise becomes desperate to put her plan into action. Eventually she encounters Mrs Fiedke's nephew back at the hotel, fresh out of prison, with already well established problems, and, as if he is powerless to resist her compelling personality, he becomes the linchpin in her disturbing scheme.

Muriel Spark is certainly a very well thought of author, who writes in a very distinctive and unique style. At just over 100 pages ('Not to Disturb' was also very brief) this could be an intriguing novel for anyone interested in going a little off the beaten track.

I have just read, over at Verity's Virago Adventure about The Lost Man Booker Prize, and interestingly 'The Driver's Seat' is on the shortlist, having been published in 1970. I have not read any of the others so voted for it. Nice to see them asking the public for their opinion for a change.

Peachy

The Peachgrowers Almanac by Elaine Di Rollo

What a wonderful book. That's got to be the only word for it. When I picked this up at the library I had no recollection of ordering it at all, though I must have done, so thank you to whoever might have written about it somewhere and brought it to my attention. I didn't write down any artful quotations to demonstrate the subtlety of the writing, because it's not like that. The story totally carries this book, and the picture on the front lets you know that it is really going to be a swash buckling adventure (no pirates, but I couldn't come up with a better expression). And although somewhat in the background it turns out that the cultivation of peaches is vital to the tale.

Alice and Lilian are twins, divided by circumstances beyond their control. The trouble is that, since it is set in the victorian era, most things are beyond their control. This story is, to a certain extent, a commentary on the position of women in victorian times, most particularly society's (i.e. men's) views on the sexuality of women and what was considered correct/feminine behaviour. At the start of the tale Alice is living in the company of a variety of aged aunts and her grandmother, taking care of her eccentric father's huge collection of interesting and educational objects, many of which seem to have been purchased after the end of the Great Exhibition. He is a retired successful businessman, and his interests and passions seem to vary from day to day and almost from moment to moment, constantly trying to keep up with the scientific advances and new inventions. Alice spends her time dusting and cataloging, caring for plants in the hot-house and strangely filling the small bowls of water under the feet of the furniture (I think it keeps in ants away).

Lilian, now on the other side of the world, has been married off to an awful minister and gone to spread christianity to the heathens of India. She relishes the challenges of this new and alien environment, whilst he suffers every illness and insect, the heat and the dust, and rather swiftly dies of tetanus. Lilian is left with the expat community, who judge most harshly her interest and assimilation into the local culture. And then someone from her past turns up unexpectedly, and he can't resist trying to pick up where they left off.

Back home meanwhile Alice has struck up a friendship with, Mr Blake, a young photographer who has come to record her father's collection. Her intelligence and intellectual curiosity, which had been encouraged and even fostered by her father up till now, has suddenly come under the scrutiny of a Mr Cattermole, a new friend of her father. Her previous contact with him, involving the cover up of her sister's 'disgrace', was not something she will quickly forget. He considers that her intellect is damaging her 'femininity' and causing mental health problems resulting in changes to her sexuality, which require horrific medical intervention. His attitudes were apparently commonplace at the time, and it can only be the tip of the iceberg of what treatment was meted out to women over the years in the name of 'science'. Another of the many reasons to be grateful for feminism in all it's forms.

In the end these two spunky and resourceful women overcome the obstacles that threaten to confine their lives (with the assistance of the thoroughly underestimated aunties) and stride confidently into a new future.

A really great fun read, but with quite a serious political edge to it, and some interesting stuff about colonialism too. Mr Blake redeems himself but not enough to merit abandoning each other and their lust for freedom.

Still Hungry (spoiler warning)

I will put up with a bland background for a while to restore order, and reconsider my options, hopefully the comments facility will go back to working properly now.

Here we have the second book in the 'Hunger Games' Trilogy by Suzanne Collins, called 'Catching Fire'.

It is going to be really difficult to write anything about this book without spoiling but I will try not to give too much away.

I kind of spoiled the first one a little for myself because I looked up the second book on Amazon and saw that Peeta was in it along with Katniss, so that I knew he didn't die in the first book. This took the anxiety out of the climax of the story, M said she kept thinking they were going to kill him at the last minute. This second book starts in the aftermath of their victory. It turns out that the watching audience has been stirred up by Katniss' subversion of the rules of the game and her apparent rebellion against the power of the Capitol. And the image of the Mockingjay that she wore as her token has become a symbol of the resistance. In the months that follow political unrest sweeps some districts and a clampdown in District 12 swiftly follows. Katniss is rather too taken up with her own confused feelings for Gale and Peeta to realise quite how important she has become, until on one of her hunting trips she journeys to a lake she had visited with her father and discovers two escaped rebels from District 8 who open her eyes somewhat to the wider situation. But the year turns and by a cruel twist of the rules Katniss and Peeta find themselves returned to the arena for a second year. In this book you get to know more of the competitors as a group of them form an alliance for strength and protection. In spite of the scenario there is much more humour in this book, though frequently rather ironic, but it made us laugh (M read much of the book with me, having read it twice already, because she wanted to be able to discuss the plot as we went along). I was concerned that it was going to be a bit repetitive but actually it is a very clever mechanism to develop the story line, using the second games, and the new characters she introduces to drop hints about the political situation and the potential rebellion. There are lots of twists and turns and you don't know who to trust and what is really going on until the very end. We were left with a terrible cliff-hanger and have to wait till AUGUST (156 days!) for 'Mockingjay', the final instalment.

bear with me

Hi dear readers, I became bored with the appearance of my blog and foolishly decided to fiddle, but am now thinking it is not the best thing, this craving for change can have it's down sides because now I find I have no 'new post' or even 'sign in' buttons at the top of the page. Maybe I should just go back to my book(s), this is what comes of getting all cocky and thinking I am now techno-chick. So please don't hurry off thinking you have arrived at the wrong blog ... order will be restored forthwith.

Instead I will send you here to Siren Voices (I am so thick I only just spotted how neat the title is) which I discovered yesterday. An ambulance man, with the most subtle ability to capture the scary and intimate moments he encounters in people's lives.

And here to Total Feckin' Eejit's Poetry Bus, and lots of interesting contributions on the subject of Stella.

Hungry for more

I kept reading about this book, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, on blogs I have been visiting over the last few months, and in an attempt to lift Tish out of an 'I can't concentrate long enough to read anything' slump I requested it from the library. It has been a great success!

Tish picked it up, must have been Monday, because she took it with us when we went to the cinema and tried to read in the car. She was all finished probably by Wednesday and M took over and finished it by Thursday (5 am she tells me), and was already jumping up and down and telling me I had to read it. Now I resisted this insistence when they were in their 'Twilight' phase, I don't like vampires much, am very squeamish, but this time I gave in. I started with a little taster at bedtime on Friday, and then took it in to work Saturday morning (when I have half an hour to kill) and sat till after 1am this morning to finish it. This included a trip out yesterday afternoon. I had requested the second book, 'Catching Fire', but people were getting impatient. Tish had tried our local bookshop with no success, so we eventually drove over to Jaffé and Neale's in Chipping Norton. Unfortunately they did not have a copy so we had to go to WHS over the road, but then went back and I browsed their poetry section for a while and came away with 'Answering Back' edited by Carol Ann Duffy, which consists of poets selecting a poem and then writing their own response to it, which seems like a wonderful idea, so watch this space. And we had World Book Day tokens so I bought M a copy of 'The Harsh Cry of the Heron' by Lian Hearn, the last book in the 'Across the Nightingale Floor' series that she has loved.

(Spoiler warning)

So, to the book. A really nasty post apocalyptic dystopia, basically a slave society, set in the far future, but in what is left of America. The country is divided up into a series of 'districts' controlled by a 'Capitol', and most of them kept in grinding poverty to maintain a lavish lifestyle for those in charge. The authoritarianism is not the worst of it. In order to reinforce the 'divide and rule' situation each year they hold 'The Hunger Games', where 'tributes' of one girl and one boy are sent from each district to fight it out to the death in a specially prepared and controlled arena. And it is all compulsory viewing for the rest of them.

It is told in a first person narrative, so you kind of know Katniss is not going to get killed, but that does not lessen the tension of the story. It is written very fast paced, but with enough pauses for breath that you can relax for a moment. The first few chapters set the scene, describing her family background, how she lives and survives, and keeps her family alive, and her friendship with Gale. Then she takes her sister Prim's place when she is selected for the games, and she gets on the rollercoaster ride that must be ridden to the very end. The games have something of Big Brother about them as the contestants are first brushed and polished and dressed up for the entertainment of the audience, who can choose to 'sponsor' the contestants, providing them with gifts to help them survive. Then they are thrown in to the arena and must pits their skills and their wits against people much more brutal and just as determined.

Katniss is an excellent heroine, tough and resourceful, but believably so because of her history. Peeta is the boy from her district and it turns out she already has a bond with him, and he with her. The other participants are more vague, many die within moments, and what happens to them is peripheral to Katniss' struggle for survival. Then the rules are changed, apparently allowing the two district tributes to work together, and so Katniss goes in search of Peeta, saving his life as he once saved hers.

There were moments when I was irritated by 'inventions' that seemed out of place in the environment that the author had created, but on the whole this was a very satisfying read, and I am in the queue for the next one.