Ernest Hemingway - The Old Man And The Sea

I have an absolutely ancient copy of this book lying around, and it's actually bizarre that I've not read the book yet - it's just 114 pages long! Published in 1974, the book cost just 30p at the time (US$0.45)! The book costs £7.99 now... let's keep that musing for another day! The Old Man and the Sea is an extremely 'concise' book, for the lack of a better word. The plot is uncomplicated, with minimal dialogue. It's literally about an old man and the sea, as the old man (Santiago) tries to change his luck, after going eighty-four days without catching a fish.

Santiago's protege, Manolin, has moved on to a "lucky" boat, as per his father's wishes, and so, when the old man heads out to the waters on the eighty-fifth day, he's all alone, without the boy he trusts.

On this fateful day though, Santiago's luck does change, as he catches what appears to be a giant fish, and an epic battle begins at sea between the fish and the man, as he is not able to haul the fish onboard. Thus begins a great game of waiting and patience (and impatience) as the old man bides his time, and ponders upon many-a-thing, including how useless his left hand his (when it starts cramping), how much he misses the old boy, and how he would have made some changes in his journey, had he known better.

He could feel the steady hard pull of the line and his left hand was cramped. It drew up tight on the heavy cord and he looked at it in disgust.

'What kind of a hand is that,' he said. 'Cramp then if you want. Make yourself into a claw. It will do you no good.'

While I'm glad I read this book, I still thought it dragged on a bit, by recounting the story of the old man's stay at the sea and his battle with the fish. Ironic that I'm saying the above about a book which is only 114 pages long, but there you have it. I guess I'm not interested in fishing, and while I understand the basic jargon, I don't really get what a lot of it means. For that matter, I don't quite understand fishing techniques either. So, maybe that's just me!

The old man's characterisation was fantastic though, as was his dialogues with the various natural things around him, including his victim - the fish. The way he handled exhaustion, cramps, hunger and thirst was mind-blowing, and I couldn't help but sympathise with him at those times. Even when I finished the book, I felt slightly despondent - but I reckon that's an emotion the book is expected to evoke.

The writing was brilliant - not poetic, but very real. The language was simple, and easy to read, while simultaneously bringing alive some of the scenes from the book. There was no superfluity, but all the words came together as though essential to form the whole story.

It's the first Hemingway I've read (yep, I know that's embarrassing!), but was wondering if you have read any of his works. If yes, what would you recommend?

J.M. Coetzee - Life and Times of Michael K

Life and Times of Michael K won the Booker Prize in 1983, and it's been one of Coetzee's books that I've wanted to read for a really long time. The name intrigued me: who is Michael K? And, what is it about his life and times that merits a novel?

The first thing the midwife noticed about Michael K when she helped him out of his mother into the world was that he had a hare lip. The lip curled like a snail's foot, the left nostril gaped.

Due to his disfigured cleft, his mother institutionalised him at a young age, and when he grew up, a simpleton, he became a gardener in Cape Town - a lifestyle that suited him, with his social inhibitions and lack of intelligence. However, when his ailing mother requested him to take her back to her hometown, when the country was ravaged by war, he agreed without even thinking twice.

Unfortunately, when his mother dies on the way, and all Michael K is left with is some of her belongings, and her ashes, he continues his journey to her hometown. While many unpleasant events occur en route to Prince Albert, once Michael finds the farm (which he thinks is where his mother grew up), he makes himself comfortable there, and begins gardening again: planting his seeds, and looking after them. He's away from the world, and he quite likes that.

Every now and again though, the story takes a turn, and Michael is forced to live in prisoner camps, and work for his food - something he just cannot fathom. As far as he is concerned, he should not be forced into a life, but choose his way of life. He understands there is a war going on around him, but then again, he just figures he's not a part of this war, for he doesn't want to be. Gardening is in his blood - all else is secondary.

Irritation overflowed in me. "You are not in the war? Of course you are in the war, man, whether you like it or not! This is a camp, not a holiday resort, not a convalescent home: it is a camp where we rehabilitate people like you and make you work!

This is an incredibly sad poignant book, which resonates within you long after you've finished it. It's not overtly verbose, it's not overtly descriptive; but perhaps, a more verbose book would not do justice to the character of Michael K - considered a simpleton, but still clever enough to run away from the government and not get caught? So, what is it about the life and times of Michael K during the War? Is it his refusal to succumb to the government's way of working, as he doesn't want to partake in the war? Or, is it his quest to find a place where he belongs, even if it is far away from humanity? Or, maybe it's simply that he will go to any lengths to not bow down to the metaphorical machine, even if it means harming himself?

Have you read this book? Was Michael K a simpleton, or simply someone hellbent on getting his own way, at any cost?

Have you read anything else by Coetzee? What would you recommend?

Haruki Murakami - Kafka On The Shore

Surrealism. I've reached the conclusion that it's the only word that can be used to describe Murakami's books. Kafka on the Shore is no exception. Leeches and fish rain down, there's a character called Johnnie Walker, and another called Colonel Saunders (of Kentucky Fried Chicken fame), a mysterious childhood "accident" results in one of the characters being able to speak to cats, and there's a portal to a parallel universe. The book follows two characters in interleaving chapters: Fifteen year old runaway, Kafka Tamura and Nakata, an elderly man who is considered "dumb" by most as he is unable to read or write. While neither of them are aware of the other's existence, there's a greater (almost supernatural) force that connects them.

Kafka ran away from home, after this father had cursed him with the Oedipus prophecy: that he would kill his father, and sleep with his mother and sister. His mother and sister had left home when he was merely four years old, and he has no recollection of them whatsoever. He figures he just has to be the toughest fifteen year old boy. Or, so "a boy called Crow" tells him.

And I bet the longer I live, the emptier, the more worthless, I'll become. Something's wrong with this picture. Life isn't supposed to turn out like this! Isn't it possible to shift direction, to change where I'm headed?"

Then there's Nakata, who fell unconscious after a bizarre attack while he was still at school. This so-called "attack" left sixteen children unconscious, but when they came to, their memories and intelligence was left intact. They simply had no recollection of the event itself. Nakata, however, lost all his intelligence, and his ability to read or write. Instead, he was bestowed with the ability to talk to cats, which led to him earning a little money by finding lost cats, in addition to the government "sub city" (subsidy) he received.

Kafka runs away to Takamatsu in Shikoku, and starts working in a small private library. He befriends the librarian, Oshima, as well as gets closer to the beautiful albeit melancholy Ms. Saeki, the manager - a lady who still mourns the demise of her long lost love, who was killed about thirty years previously.

Nakata, on the other hand, runs into a dangerous man, Johnnie Walker, in Kafka's hometown, who is kidnapping cats, and then killing them brutally in order to make a flute of their souls. In order to save the cats, Nakata ends up killing the man and then following his "fate" - he doesn't know what it is, but he'll know it when he sees it.

This was an obscure novel, which on finishing, I had more questions than answers. Who is "the boy named crow"? Did Kafka succumb to his fate, or did he manage to avoid it? Can ghosts of living people exist? Can ghosts of people's past exist? What connected the two characters? And, what actually happened to Nakata in his childhood, that left him bereft of his intelligence?

Don't get me wrong - I enjoyed this book, as I do most Murakamis. And, I would recommend it. Just remember, if and when you read it, it'll be a hell of a ride, and you'll be second guessing everything right till the last page - and beyond. While some bits were tedious to read, all in all, the characters and the surrealism made it a must-read for me.

Note: Kafka on the Shore is the first Murakami I ever had on my shelf. It was given to me as a present sometime in 2008, and I kept "saving it" for the right occasion. I planned on reading it when I went on holiday to Barbados last year, as part of the Japanese Literature Challenge 3 hosted by Bellezza last year, and a couple of other times as well. Finally read it about a year later, while the Japanese Literature Challenge 4 is being held. Have been meaning to write a post about the challenge itself for awhile, but kept getting sidetracked. Apologies.

Anyway, head over to Bellezza's, to find more reviews of Japanese Literature, and to see what everyone else is reading. Hope to see some of your reviews around as well. :)

Truman Capote - Breakfast At Tiffany's

"Charming" - That's the first word that came to mind when I turned over the last page of this novella. I haven't seen the Audrey Hepburn movie, so I didn't really know much about the plot (maybe I really do live in my own little cocoon) prior to reading the classic. There's Holly Golightly, who gets the star billing, as the writer recounts memories of his glamourous neighbour many years later. Holly Golightly is a young woman, drifting through life in New York in the 1940s: the bars, the martinis, parties, the social scene. A complex character, who's a wonderful combination of being naive and stubbornly independent, she keeps her friends close yet at a distance.

As her past tries to catch up with her, and she unknowingly gets entangled with the Mafia, she contemplates what she wants from life.

I don't want to own anything until I know I've found the place where me and things belong together.  I'm not quite sure where that is just yet.  But I know what it's like.... It's like Tiffany's.... Not that I give a hoot about jewelry.  Diamonds, yes.  But it's tacky to wear diamonds before you're forty...

This was my first foray into the world of Capote as well, and I was blown away by the rich lyrical writing, by the richness of Holly's character, and by some of the cleverly crafted paragraphs. It was a delightful read, and I think the story is going to stay with me for a long time, as will Holly: a character that frustrated me to no end, but I still couldn't help but like her.

Jeffrey Eugenides - Middlesex

I was born twice: first as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974. So opens Eugenides' epic novel, Middlesex. Calliope "Cal" Stephanides was declared a girl when she came into this world, against the odds. Her grandmother's spoon (which had successfully predicted the sex of previous unborn children) had swung indicating a son would be born, but, Calliope's father begged to differ saying, "it's science" - well, maybe so, but, fourteen years later (despite being raised as a girl), the Stephanides family learnt that "Cal" had a 5-alpha reductase deficiency, which resulted in the doctor figuring a girl had been born, not a boy.

Narrated by Calliope (and then Cal), this novel isn't just about the experience as a hermaphrodite. In fact, the narrator goes back three generations, where the ancestors were fleeing Greece during the Greek-Turk wars in the 1920s. Time moves on to World War II, the Depression, the race riots in Detroit, Detroit and the assembly line and finally, the present. The story adapts and evolves with each historical event, and its significance in the life of Cal and his ancestors.

This book is quite a chunkster at over 520 pages long, and while the gist seems to suggest its predominant focus is Cal's identity crisis, more than half the book focuses on the history and how the relationships through time have resulted in the present. There are incestuous relationships, the whole talk of what is acceptable and what should be avoidable, the "woman's" role vs. the "man's" and the filial and parental devotion that runs through the book, making it interesting and captivating.

The writing style is slightly bizarre, switching between third and first person, almost as though there's two streams of consciousness. But then again, that's one of the things I do love about Eugenides' writing (think The Virgin Suicides and the collective "we" narrator). The book is interesting, and despite being fairly long, it doesn't drag on or feel as though it's missed the final edit. It's humorous, witty and perceptive, with the scope of its narrative being ambitious, and in my opinion, Eugenides does a wonderful job of pulling it off.

This is the first book that I've read, where the central character is a hermaphrodite. It's also the first book I've read which deals with the Greek-Turk wars. However, I have read a fair few books around the whole immigration malarky, and this does manage to not be stereotypical.

Are there any other books you'd recommend which talks of the Greek-Turk history? How about books belonging to the "LGBT" category?

Jane Austen - Pride and Prejudice

Mee invited all Pride and Prejudice first-timers to a readalong in February. I'd like to start this post by apologising for not finishing the book in the second month of the year itself, but, I got sidetracked with a couple of other things, and well, you know how it goes... Pride and Prejudice is my very first Austen (yes, I'm a book blogger who has never read an Austen. Shame on me!), and there are so many things I want to say about the experience. I'm not going to write a proper "review" with a story recap etc. as, well, most people have a general idea as to what the story's about, and in my opinion, knowing more can ruin the story for them.

That was my major gripe with Pride and Prejudice. I really wish I'd read it as a teenager, as I wasn't aware of the storyline back then. Things have changed since, and much to my displeasure, I discovered that a lot of the feel-goodness of the book was lost as I already knew how things would come together in the end. Further, I also knew how a couple of characters would turn out, which was annoying.

That said, I did still enjoy the book, if for nothing else, the language - oh, how I loved the language! Why don't we speak like that now-a-days? Well-articulated, romantic sentences in proper English (it was the nineteenth century), with appropriate exaggerations? It's a fantastic world to get lost into, and the emphasis is so much more on the dialogue than the ambience. Through the dialogue, you acquaint yourself with the characters, and it's almost as though you're right there with them through everything: the balls and the walks, the ecstasy and the misery, the anger and the lament. You even get to read the letters between the characters, which tells you all the more about them, and by the end of the book, everyone has a favourite: Elizabeth Bennet or Mr. Darcy. Unfortunately, none of the other characters jump off the pages as much as the aforementioned.

Yet, I cannot fault Austen for characterisation. As readers, we're introduced to a myriad of characters who stem from being naively good hearted to downright self-involved and manipulative; from being "airheads" (sorry, but that is the apt twenty-first century term) to being gallant; from being weak-minded or avaricious to having severe delusions of grandeur thanks to association. The people would fit in today's society easily - we see them every day! Some we would judge, and some we'd want for our best friend. Some we'd loathe, and some we'd do our best to bring down to earth. Some we'd instantly have an opinion on, only to be proven wrong. That aspect of timelessness amazes me - are society's virtues and vices inherently still the same across two centuries?

And then, we come to the setting: Austen brilliantly brings out life in the nineteenth century, almost satirically. Imagine a world where girls aren't allowed inheritance, despite the property being owned by their father? How about a world where an embarrassing mother is trying to find an eligible bachelor for five teenage daughters (who really should be in school)? Or, a world where people who earn five thousand pounds annually are considered rich? Where girls are looking out for eligible "Officers" as potential husbands - everyone really has only one thing on their minds?! Some of the essential laws of human survival exist: power rules, money talks, estates wow and some people are better as indifferent acquaintances instead of friends!

I did like the dynamics between the characters as well, specially the Bennet family (including the aunts and uncles). Also, must make a special mention of the relationships between Mr. Darcy and his sister, and Mr. Darcy and his aunt Catherine, for they made the book a lot more rich!

I really did enjoy the book, although, maybe not the story in itself, if that makes sense? Again, I attribute that to me already knowing the way the plot would turn, and hence, missing out on the feel-good factor. Also, some of the romanticism and mushiness was a little much for me, but, I guess that was part and parcel of the nineteenth century, and maybe, in another lifetime, I was Elizabeth Bennet. Well, a girl can dream. :)

Maya Angelou - I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

I've wanted to read this book for ages, simply for the title, which is one of the most beautiful titles I've ever come across. So, I finally picked it up, and it's probably one of the most beautiful autobiographies I've ever read. On reading the blurb, I thought it would be similar to the Pulitzer Prize winning The Color Purple. While both books have a prominent thread of racism running through, the similarities end there. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings is the coming-of-age story of Maya Angelou, born Marguerite Ann Johnson, set in Stamps (Arkansas), St. Louis and San Francisco. Initially, she lives in Stamps with her brother, Bailey, her grandmother who she calls Momma, and her Uncle Willie. Momma, a no-nonsense unemotional religious Christian, owns the only store around, and is respected and well-liked by all - whites and blacks. While their parents are in California (doing goodness knows what), Momma brings the two children up, with proper morals and values. In fact, when Maya uses the phrase "by the way" passingly, she is admonished for using the Lord's name in vain. And she cannot admit to liking Shakespeare, as he was white.

If growing up is painful for the Southern Black girl, being aware of displacement is the rust on the razor that threatens the throat.

It is an unnecessary insult.

When Maya was eight, she went to live with her mother at St. Louis, and was subsequently raped by her mother's then boyfriend. The boyfriend was later killed by her uncles, after the court sentenced him to just about a year in prison, but he was released immediately. This incident casted a shadow over the next few years of her youth, as she was convinced that she had blood on her hands.

However, this wasn't the only thing that cast a shadow in her life: there was the white dentist who Momma had lent money to during the Depression, but when Maya needed her teeth looked at, the dentist refused saying he'd rather put his hand in a dog's mouth. When she graduated eighth grade, and thought she had the whole world in her hands, a speech given by one of the "visitors" served a reminder that the students having ambitions higher than being maids, farmers, handymen and washerwomen were being farcical and presumptuous.

There was the world of the "whitefolk" and the "powhitefolk," both of which were prejudiced against the blacks, despite some of the powhitefolk not having as much as some of the blacks did. There was the emotional upheaval when their father picked them up from Stamps to take them to St. Louis. And of course, the confusion when they returned to Stamps, back to the safe and righteous Momma.

Yet, this book isn't written from the point of view of a "victim" - instead, it' a young girl willing to achieve what she wants against all odds, and her profound insights into the world she lives in - the only world she knows. She talks openly about how her brother is her world, her admiration for one of Momma's customers, the conflicting feelings on meeting her mother - a stranger - again. There's no beating around the bush, no meanderings - just calling a spade a spade. It's innocent and beautifully written. Each chapter can be read as a stand alone story, which, when put together forms a thought-provoking read.

People whose history and future were threatened each day by extinction considered that it was only by divine intervention that they were able to live at all. I find it interesting that the meanest life, the poorest existence, is attributed to God's will, but as human beings become more affluent, as their living standard and style begin to ascend the material scale, God descends the scale of responsibility at a commensurate speed.

I absolutely loved this book, and can't recommend it highly enough. This book is the first of the six autobiographies she wrote, and I'll try picking up the next in the volume, as the ending of the first book does make you wonder about how it all ties in, eventually.

Michael Cunningham - The Hours

It's not often a book leaves me completely speechless. Wowed. Awestruck. Absolutely blown away. But then again, it's not often that I come across a book like Michael Cunningham's The Hours. Both, Claire and Rachel, recommended the book to me, saying I should read it once I finish Mrs. Dalloway. And then, I saw this fantastic review over at deucekindred's blog, and I felt compelled to read the book sooner rather than later - specially as I'd just finished the Virginia Woolf classic as part of Woolf In Winter. In the first chapter, Clarissa, a fifty-something year old woman, steps out to buy some flowers for a party she's having that evening. She loves the city she's in, enjoys the hustle-bustle of life, bumps into an old friend, and contemplates the perfect party that evening.

However, unlike Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, Clarissa isn't in London this time, but in New York. It's not the 1920s anymore, but we've fast-forwarded to 1999. And, Clarissa isn't Mrs. Dalloway, but, she's Clarissa Vaughn. Her best friend, Richard (a poet suffering from AIDS), does call her Mrs. Dalloway after the famous fictional character though...

While the book chronicles a day in her life, as she plans the perfect party (in honour of Richard), much like Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, the book also chronicles one day in the life of two other women in different times and places: Virginia Woolf in the 1920s and Laura Brown in Los Angeles in the 1940s. All three stories are interspersed with one another, resulting in a heartbreaking emotional masterpiece, that illustrates that despite the barriers of time and space, lives do interlock.

The second chapter is when we're introduced to the legendary author in the 1920s. Virginia Woolf's account is semi-fictional. She's ill, refers to herself as an eccentric genius, and lives in Richmond with her supportive loving husband, trying to recuperate, but missing London dreadfully. Cunningham imagines Woolf in the initial stages of writing Mrs. Dalloway - her thoughts, her inspirations and her character development - as well as her illness, and her fragile state of mind.

She despises Richmond. She is starved for London; she dreams sometimes about the hearts of cities. Here, where she been taken to live for the last eight years precisely because it is neither strange now marvellous, she is largely free of headaches and voices, the fits of rage. Here all she desires is a return to the dangers of city life.

And the third chapter introduces us to Laura Brown in the 1940s. Mrs. Brown is the wife of a World War II veteran, and she has a three year old child. She's a recluse, an obsessive reader, who is working her way through all of Woolf's fiction, and has just started Mrs. Dalloway. And, she has suicidal tendencies.

Right now she is reading Virginia Woolf, all of Virginia Woolf, book by book - she is fascinated by the idea of a woman like that, a woman of such brilliance, such strangeness, such immeasurable sorrow; a woman who had genius but still filled her pocket with a stone and waded out into a river.

The prologue is set in 1941: a new War has just begun, and Woolf is walking purposefully toward the river, certain of what she'll do. The prologue ends with her husband discovering her suicide note... and me feeling incredibly overwhelmed, just eight pages in. Cunningham doesn't mince words, doesn't beat around the bush, but the language is wonderfully concise, while being eloquent and metaphoric.

Cunningham also makes subtle changes to the story of Mrs. Dalloway, to illustrate its timelessness and universality. Moving from one big city to the city that never sleeps, making Clarissa lovers with Sally, and Richard taking on Septimus' role (I think), are just some of the quirks that makes the story read almost completely differently. However, if you read this book prior to reading Mrs. Dalloway, I strongly suggest reading the classic.

And then, we get into the intricacies. According to this work, Woolf intended Clarissa to be the suicidal character in her novel - that despite her love for life, some small domestic failure could potentially push her over the edge. Say, her party being a failure? From what we know of Clarissa Dalloway, would that be so impossible? Was Clarissa Dalloway merely a reflection of Woolf herself? Or, was fiction and reality still two completely different threads for Woolf in the 1920s?

Someone else will die. It should be a greater mind than Clarissa's; it should be someone with sorrow and genius enough to turn away from the seductions of the world, its cups and its coats.

This is a multi-layered story, with enough allusions to merit a thesis of sorts. I'm still left flabbergasted as to how much I loved this book, and how little justice (if any) I've done to its genius with my extremely trite review. What leaves me really puzzled is, how on earth did the author pack in so much in just 226 pages? Details, amazing descriptions, incredible characterisations and an enthralling storyline of three complex women, while simultaneously reworking one of the greatest classics of the last century, Cunningham's book is pure gold.

David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas

In January 2009, I was introduced to the wonderful world of David Mitchell by a friend, who lent me the surreal number9dream - a book I absolutely loved. She proceeded to lend me Cloud Atlas next, and it's been sitting abandoned on my unread shelf for about a year now, as I've been reluctant to pick it up for a myriad of reasons - book bloggers everywhere rave about it calling it a favourite, it's considerably chunky at 529 pages, and, well, it's Mitchell's most acclaimed book yet. Anyhow, I finally picked it up about a week back, and rode the long roller-coaster that is this book - it's a heck of a ride, you're almost begging for it to finish (as, all said and done, it is a difficult book to read), but when you eventually do turn the last page, you want to experience it all over again.

The book comprises of six independent stories, that span centuries and the atlas, of which five are told in "halves," revolving around the central tale of the post-apocalyptic future, where humans are living as savages, after The Fall. In the first set of "halves", which goes chronologically, each story is read/seen by a character in the subsequent one. In the second set, the stories start moving backwards, so the characters end up reading/seeing the story that follows. Hence, the opening chapter of the book (the first incomplete half-story) is completed in the last chapter.

The common theme that runs through the book is the presence of a "comet-shaped birthmark" - a distinction present in the protagonist of each story. Does this suggest reincarnation? The existence of the soul across generations? Or, is that merely coincidental?

Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an’ tho’ a cloud’s shape nor hue nor size don’t stay the same it’s still a cloud an’ so is a soul. Who can say where the cloud's blowed from or who the soul'll be 'morrow?

The Pacific Journals of Adam Ewing {1850s} : A journal written by an American notary in the Pacific, who befriends an English surgeon as well as a stowaway Moriori. This story is cut off mid-sentence (and comes together nicely as the last chapter)...

Letters from Zedleghem {1931} : A young aspiring bankrupt composer, Robert Frobisher, goes to Belgium to apprentice with a famous composer, hoping to make some easy money, and simultaneously finding some success. Here, he discovers The Pacific Journals in the library...

Not only are there some romantic (and otherwise) twists in the tale, but, as Frobisher details his life in the Belgian estate to an old friend, Sixsmith (in the form of letters), the reader is introduced to Frobisher's biggest work, revolutionary or gimmicky: The Cloud Atlas Sextet.

Half Lives : The First Luisa Rey Mystery {1970s} : We move across the pond for this one, where Luisa Rey is a journalist, and is focusing on a big expose on the Swannekke Island Nuclear Plant in California. Sixsmith is the scientist who gave her the lead for the story, and in time, she reads the letters written to him by Frobisher. Luisa, trying to follow in her father's footsteps, seems to be hellbent on justice (consequentialism), even if it is at the expense of her own life.

The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish {present-day} : The focus shifts to present-day United Kingdom, where Timothy Cavendish is a struggling not-so-moral publisher, but, when he is tricked into admitting himself in an old-age home, with no way out, he starts trying to figure out the best way to escape, which leads to more trouble for him. A manuscript of The First Luisa Rey Mystery was sent to him by an author, and he's contemplating publishing it...

An Orison of Somni 451 {near future} : In this dystopia, where fabricants are slaves to purebloods, Somni 451 has ascended, and managed to develop her own personality, by acquiring immense knowledge. It's a story about the struggle of powers, the violence that emerges and the unfortunate state of things as they stand. She's not a partaker though, merely an observer, who recites her life-story to an Archivist. She was watching the film of Timothy Cavendish, when she was taken away...

Sloosha’s Crossin’ an’ Ev’rythin’ After {Post-apocalyptic future} : Zach'ry is the protagonist here, in a civilisation that considers Somni god, and Ol' Georgie the devil. Zach'ry and his family are savages, in awe of the Smarts, believing that the Soul either reincarnates or gets set to stone. Technology is a myth in this civilisation, and, the people mainly herd goats or the like, living in tribes in forests, fearing invasion and power struggles by the terrifying Kona.

This book is immense - the writing style in each of the stories changes significantly, so much so that they read as completely different stories : from Victorian formal english, peppered with ampersands and other shorthands, to pidgin english which I personally found quite annoying to read. However, each style seems to reflect the age it it set in, appropriately, as well as, the structure of each story seems to be similar to its genre. For example, the Luisa Rey mystery is written in numerous short chapters, much like an airport thriller, whereas, the post-apocalyptic narration is written as a rather long rant.

The common theme that binds these stories together soars above and beyond the comet-shaped birthmark. It's a story about power, domination, and the ultimate quest to rule. The stories stress on the selfishness of people, and how ultimately, this will lead to the inevitable apocalypse.

Yes, the devil shall take the hindmost until the foremost is the hindmost. In an individual, selfishness uglifies the soul; for the human species, selfishness is extinction.

While I enjoyed this book, parts of the stories just didn't grab me, and I was left quite unsure as to what's going on, and how these stories are inter-linked together. Why isn't it just a book of short stories? A much less author might have done that... or, attempted six different novels, with completely different themes. However, Mitchell, managed to tie most of the loose ends together, and left me questioning my own existence, and the power of one individual. It's an ambitious work, but, in my opinion, Mitchell's managed to pull it off surprisingly well.

Virginia Woolf - Mrs. Dalloway

Claire {@ kissacloud} and three friends are doing a Woolf In Winter read-along. The first book they're tackling is Mrs. Dalloway, and it's being hosted by Sarah {@ what we have here is a failure to communicate}. I picked up the Vintage classic last year, while idly browsing a second hand book store, and have since been extremely ambivalent about it - mostly because I've never read a book by Virginia Woolf, and I have an inexplicable fear of the unknown, specially when it comes to much-acclaimed classics. Mrs. Dalloway is probably the most difficult novel I've ever read. And, I'll go out on a limb and say it's probably (one of) the most difficult book(s) I'll ever read.

Woolf's meanderings is essentially a stream-of-consciousness-style narrative to provide an insight into the lives of a few Londoners, including the protagonist: Clarissa Dalloway, who is preoccupied with the last minute details of a party she is to give that evening. Yet, the book digresses between reality, flashbacks as well as imaginary visions of the characters, and these digressions are helped greatly by the complete absence of chapters, so that the reader is left trying to figure out which character's on centre-stage at any given point in time, and how their story fits in the grand scheme of things, the grand finale, the party.

Set in London, a few years after the first World War, Mrs. Dalloway unsurprisingly starts off with the spotlight on the protagonist herself, the wife of a politician, who is planning to throw a party. Yet, as the book progresses, and the clock on the Big Ben ticks, the spotlight falls on a myriad of characters including Peter Walsh, an ex-boyfriend of Mrs. Dalloway, who has just come back to London, and brings back old memories; Septimus Smith, a war veteran, who seems disconnected from the story, as he slips into insanity, haunted by the ghost of one of his friends who died during the war; doctors who attempt treating Smith; his worried wife, Rezia; Mrs. Dalloway's daughter Elizabeth, and Mrs. Dalloway's enemy, Miss. Kilman.

The story, in real terms, lasts just one day, but, with the many different perspectives that Woolf weaves in, it seems to last a lifetime (in a good way). It's sensitive, philosophical even, giving an insight into human nature as we don't really know it, but, emphasising, ever so subtly, on the appreciation of life, and the eventuality of death.

So, he was deserted. The whole world was clamouring: Kill yourself, kill yourself, for our sakes. But why should he kill himself for their sakes? Food was pleasant; the sun hot; and this killing oneself, how does one set about it, with a table knife, uglily, with floods of blood - by sucking a gaspipe?

It's a relatively short novel, at 172 pages. However, it took me over five hours to finish it, and all my concentration. There were sentences about fourteen lines long, there were connotations long-winded and intense, there were provoking thoughts that stayed on, long after you'd flipped the page. Yes, Mrs. Dalloway's primary preoccupation was with the party, and exulting in life's wake. She had married a man she presumably didn't love as much as she loved someone else. Yet, her character is anything but superficial, flawed with merits - or, should that be meritorious with flaws?

She muddled Armenians with Turks; loved success; hated discomfort; must be liked; talked oceans of nonsense; and to this day, ask her what the Equator was, and she did not know.

All the same that one day should follow another; Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday; that one should wake up in the morning; walk in the park; meet Hugh Whitbread; then suddenly in came Peter; then these roses; it was enough. After that, how unbelievable death was! - that it must end; and no one in the whole world would know how she had loved it all; how every instant...

The other thing I loved about this book was it's glimpses into London in the early 1900s. I thought that Woolf captured the heart and soul of central London beautifully (this book is mostly based in and around Westminster), and I actually felt that I was accompanying the characters, as they ambled the streets, or rode the Omnibus, or napped in Regents Park, or, for that matter, enjoyed the hustle-bustle at the Strand.

I am really pleased that I read this book, and I will be seeking another Woolf book sometime in the future, albeit, I don't think I can do four Woolfs in eight weeks - it's seriously hard work! Hats off to all those of you who are! Claire {@ Paperback Reader} and Rachel {@ Book Snob} recommended reading Michael Cunningham's The Hours after reading Woolf's masterpiece. Subsequently, I'll be reading it later this month.

Thanks to Claire {kissacloud}, Sarah {what we have here is a failure to communicate}, Emily {evening all afternoon} and Frances {Nonsuch Book} for hosting this wonderful read-along.

Winifred Watson - Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day

Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day is a delightful book centring around a middle-aged prudish governess, who has no money and desperately needs a job to click. One morning, a serendipitous incident sees her knock on the door of a beautiful young cabaret singer, instead of a household abound with ill-disciplined children, for a job. However, she never gets an opportunity to state her purpose, but gets caught up in the dramatic life of Miss LaFosse instantaneously. Miss LaFosse and Miss Pettigrew are as different as night and day - the former has numerous lovers, a frivolous lifestyle and many-a-friend, whereas Miss Pettigrew is alone, and in her own words, some day she would be, with no home, no friends, no husband, no children. Yet, as they say, opposites attract, and that certainly holds true for these two women who might as well have come from totally different planets. Caught up in the wonder of Miss LaFosse's lifestyle, Miss Pettigrew allows herself to be "made up", wears fancy gowns, and goes to a cocktail party as well as a night club - each second of the day lifts her morale and confidence a little bit more. She thinks quickly on her feet, resolves tiffs, freely gives relationship advice, and ends up seeming a whole lot worldlier than she actually is.

The book, spanning twenty-four hours, literally describes how Miss Pettigrew "lives for a day," and how she's resigned to her fate of misery and loneliness.

Oh, if only for once the Lord would be good and cause some miracle to happen to keep her here, to see for one day how life could be lived, so that for all the rest of her dull, uneventful days, when things grew bad, she could look back in her mind and dwell on the time when for one perfect day, she, Miss Pettigrew, lived.

This is one of those feel-good books, where you just have a giant smile on your face while reading it. The dialogue is witty, the writing clever, and the words literally lift off the page and dance in front of the reader. Miss Pettigrew is not a typical hero, but, you just want her to have her day!

While this book was written in the 1930s (1938), the environment and narrative seems relatively modern. The women have a flair for the dramatic, and their enthusiasm and frivolity (for lack of better words) is contagious.

It's no use, we women just can't help ourselves. When it comes to love we're born adventurers.

Still, you do wonder about quotes like the below (which is probably the most blatant hint that the book was published pre-World War II):

I wouldn’t advise marrying him. I don’t like jumping to conclusions but I think there was a little Jew in him. He wasn’t quite English.

Rating: A-

Sarah Waters - Fingersmith

It's the 1860s, and Lant Street, a dodgy street near Southwark Bridge, is inhabited by petty thieves, small-time burglars, piddling swindlers and the like. Here lives Sue Trinder, a seventeen year old, with Mrs. Sucksby (her guardian), and Mr. Ibbs (a man who fences stolen items), along with a bunch of infants, unwanted in this world, who Mrs. Sucksby brings up and introduces to the world of small crime; and, some adolescent pickpockets (or, "fingersmiths", if you like).

We were all more or less thieves at Lant Street. But we were that kind of thief that rather eased the dodgy deed along, than did it . We could pass anything, anything at all, at speeds which would astonish you.

One day, Gentleman, a fraudster who was born into a rich cultured family, but went wayward with time, comes to visit (as he oft' does), with a proposal: He wants to take Sue to become a maid to a rich heiress (standing to get the money upon marriage) who lives at The Briar (a dark miserable place, where the sun never seems to shine), with an eccentric Uncle: Maud. Maud is unaware of how much she is worth, and she is supposed to be a lady in all rights. Sue's job is simple: make Maud her confidante, and convince her to marry Gentleman. After marriage, Gentleman will have Maud committed to a mad person's home (lunatic asylum), and, take her fortune as his own. Sue will get £3,000 for her role in the affair, and while she is slightly dubious about the plan, she agrees, to make Mrs. Sucksby and Mr. Ibbs proud.

And so, after being trained by Gentleman, Sue heads to The Briar, and seeks to get the wheels in motion. Everything is going exactly according to the plan: the Gentleman arrives, Maud is completely smitten, they plan the elopement, and Sue helps at every stage.

However, just as you, the reader, thinks everything is happening as planned, and the plot falls into place, Waters does an incredible job of delivering twist after twist - things that you'd never expect, but that doesn't come across as unbelievable. It's a book about love, jealousy, betrayal and a web of lies, that seems to spin deeper and deeper, denser and denser. It's dark, ruthless, and sinister. The characters almost float off the page and dance before you, just as if to prove how real they are. However, despite being descriptive, the book isn't dull at any stage. Instead, it grips you, and you just keep turning the page, desperate to know what happens next. And... with amazing skill, Waters ensures that you're always guessing... for nothing is as it seems.

Rating: 5