David Mitchell - Black Swan Green

About five years back, with the launch of the iPod Shuffle, Apple declared "random is the new order" to the world, as "life is random" so we should "give chance a chance." What does any of this have to do with Black Swan Green? Well, nothing, really! However, it does have a lot to do with the way I've approached the works of David Mitchell - Unlike some book bloggers (e.g. Kerry), I haven't read his works in any kind of order; just as and when I got my hands on one of his books. I never had a chance though. I didn't even know who David Mitchell was (yes, I was living in a black hole of sorts) until one of my friends shoved number9dream in my hands, and insisted I read it. From the opening line, which I can still repeat off the top of my head, I was hooked. The rest, as they say, is history.

And so, I started my fourth book by David Mitchell eagerly, not quite knowing what to expect. I knew it was a coming-of-age story, and I half wondered if it would be similar to the surreal number9dream, or well - I didn't really have an alternative.

Black Swan Green is much more of a "traditional" coming-of-age story. In fact, if I didn't know better, I would have assumed it was Mitchell's debut novel - not because of the quality of writing (seriously, I don't think you can fault Mitchell's quality of writing!), but more because the book was a lot more conventional than I'd have expected, specially considering it was released on the back of Cloud Atlas.

It's 1982, the year of the Falklands War. Havoc is wreaking on that front, but thirteen year old Jason is fighting another battle: against bullies, against a stammering problem he can't seem to get rid of, and harbouring a secret that might make him the laughing stock of the school: a secret desire to be a poet. Closer to home, his sister refers to him as "thing," and his parents' marriage is rocky - thirteen, it's a "wonderful miserable age!"

Bluebells swarmed in pools of light where the sun got through the trees. The air smelt of them. Wild garlic smelt of toasted phlegm. Blackbirds sang like they'd die if they didn't. Birdsong's the thoughts of a wood. Beautiful it was, but boys aren't allowed to say "beautiful" 'cause it's the gayest word going.

As opposed to a linear narrative, this book is essentially a set of snapshots in Jason's life as a thirteen year old, focusing on the events that help him mature, as he realises some hard truths about life, be it about his friend's father's alcoholism

"[...]Tell you what it's like, it's like this whiny shitty nasty weepy man who isn't my dad takes my dad over for however long the bender lasts, but only I - and Mum and Kelly and Sally and Max - know that it isn't him. The rest of the world doesn't know that, see. They just say, Frank Moran showing his true colours, that is. But it ain't" Moran twisted his head at me. "But it is. But it ain't.[...]"

or, about the cruelty of war, and how it ruins lives

War's an auction where whoever can pay most in damage and still be standing wins.

Okay, maybe that's a little too profound for a thirteen year old, but the point still stands! Speaking of profundity, how's this:

I've never listened to music lying down. Listening's reading if you close your eyes. Music's a wood you walk through.

And then, you have some mixed with a desperate call for anger management:

Me, I want to kick this moronic bloody world in the bloody teeth over and over till it bloody understands that not hurting people is ten bloody thousand times more important than being right.

Oh! To be thirteen again...

I enjoyed this book, and the various episodes of Jason's life, despite the fact that at times, he really did seem older and wiser than his years (above excerpts withstanding). It was an easy read, but delightful at the same time, and it was a story I could relate to - being someone born in the eighties myself! I got most of the music references, be it Duran Duran, Beatles, Sex Pistols, Joy Division or the infamous "Do the Locomotion". It took me back a long way, and I was reminiscing away about my life and how things were about a decade ago! I could identify with Jason's preoccupations and concerns at times, and I sympathised with him on the whole rivalry with the sibling - been there, done that! My brother and I couldn't possibly be closer now. Oh, how times change...

Have you read any David Mitchell? Any favourites? I still have Ghostwritten to go, so I'm really looking forward to that.

Also, do you have any other favourite coming-of-age stories? I do love reading them - they almost always take me away to a simpler easier time. Do you feel the same as well about comfort reads?

Just as an aside for you David Mitchell fans out there who've read Cloud Atlas as well:

Madame Crommelynck, the daughter of the famous composer in Cloud Atlas, makes an appearance in this book, when she attempts to introduce Jason to European literature. She plays Robert Frobisher's Cloud Atlas Sextet for the teenager, who is awed by it (see quote above). I loved that bit! Any idea if there are any more references to other characters from his previous books that I've missed?

Margaret Atwood - The Handmaid's Tale {Weekly Geeks Q&A}

I'm still playing catch-up on 13th June's Weekly Geeks. I know, I know, it's been about a month, and that's ample time to catch up! However, after this, I'll just have two more to do: Disgrace, and His Dark Materials. Am planning to re-read the latter this month, so might end up doing that one after!

Anyway, on with it...

From gautami tripathy:

The Handmaid’s Tale is one of the best books I have read. What did you think of it? Do you think it is possible? Can you see a future like that? Did it scare you?

I thought it was fantastic. It's well-written, a page-turner, and depicts a heavily dystopian futuristic society, which scared the living daylights out of me!

However, when you ask if I find it possible or not, I have to say, I don't. Maybe, it's only me, but I find the dystopias presented in 1984, Brave New World, and Fahrenheit 451 much more realistic than this. I know people have found this book scarily possible, but, in my opinion, the human race has progressed way too much, to let women be reduced to nothing but maids and handmaids ("Handmaids" are women who have only one purpose: conceive a child for the family that looks after her). With each generation, women are becoming more powerful, and more career-oriented, at the expense of not having families, and settling down. The world is becoming smaller, and the cries of democracy are louder than ever. I just can't see the government of the United States being overthrown, and replaced by this totalitarian nightmare. That said, I can see this happening in some extremist countries, where women are not allowed to drive, vote, or leave their house without a man.

I am not American, but, with today being 4th of July, one has to ask the question: can the 'leaders of the free world' ever be the polar opposite?

The book scares me. I think Offred, the protagonist, said something along the lines of many handmaids tend to commit suicide, instead of living life as they do - under constant pressure and no guarantees. To be honest, if I was ever unlucky to exist in a society like that, I'd probably just kill myself. Luckily, I don't think something this horrible will happen in my lifetime. For that, I'm grateful.

From Maree:

I loved The Handmaid’s Tale – did you find it scarily possible?

I didn't. I just can't see a society like that coming into existence. Maybe I'm in denial. Maybe I'm an optimist. But... I just don't see it!

From Kristen:

I have a slight fear of reading Margaret Atwood again – she’s so revered in Canada that it’s intimidating. Talk me into why I should read the Handmaid’s Tale :o)

Jeez, I'm not very convincing. :( I'll try though...

Atwood is probably revered in Canada for a reason: she's that good! That should be reason enough to read the book. What makes this book really special, is, realizing how lucky we are, as things stand. Feminism is rampant right now, and women are allowed to make their own decisions, with respect to what to wear, and when to settle down and have kids. Their choice isn't restricted to being a 'martha' (a maid), or a handmaid. Can you imagine having to flip a coin between those two options, and nothing else?

It's well-written, it's a page-turner, and Atwood's made the story as real as possible: from Offred being your regular American woman, to feeling semi-conscious seeing Japanese tourists in shorts (revealing their legs). Can people be conditioned that easily? Or, in a society where there are no choices, people just accept things the way they are to make their life that much easier? It raises some provocative questions, which you probably don't want to think about, and which will haunt you for a long long time.

Did I do a good job of talking you into it?

From Rebecca:

The Handmaid’s Tale haunted me for weeks after I read it. I loved it and don’t think I’ll ever forget it, but I know that not everyone feels that way. What was your reaction to it? Did you find it believable and frightening or too futuristic and extreme? How would you describe it in 1 or 2 sentences to someone who’s never heard of it before?

As already mentioned above, it scared me. A lot. More than I want to admit. I can't imagine ever living in a society like that, and frankly speaking, death might be more viable. But... I also thought it was out and out fiction, and too extremist to be 'real'.

Two sentence summary:

The United States has been replaced by the Republic of Gilead, a futuristic society, where women are reduced to being 'reproductive' machines for unknown men, and then give up the child to the wife of these men. Everyone knows what their purpose is... and ironically enough, most other women envy the 'handmaids' for the alternative is being a maid, and not being treated with dignity or respect.

From Jodie:

Why do you think so many dystopian novels set in the future find women subjugated once again? What did you think of the rich women’s complicity in the other women’s fate in The Handmaid’s Tale?

I don't know. Will we do the full 360, and go back to the beginning, where women are subjugated for their role in the 'Original Sin' again? Is there another episode that will replace the 'Original Sin'? Or, will some radical extremist group take over the world, and ensure that some of their customs regarding women will take precedence over what the Western world knows today.

Well, that's a tough one. I think it depends on the rich woman - they are dependent on the handmaid for one thing, and one thing only. While some of the rich women are likely to be grateful to their handmaid for providing them with a child - something they can now 'buy', they are not obliged to be so. Simultaneously, some women will hold the handmaids in contempt, for it cannot be easy for them to see their husband indulging in sexual activities with another woman, out of 'protocol'. Probably this coupled with their own sense of incompletion leads to the untoward fate of handmaids. Of course, if and when the handmaids are having an actual relationship with the husband, without the wife's knowledge, and she finds out, the fate is much worse....

Sebastian Barry - The Secret Scripture

Shortlisted for the Booker Prize 2008, and winner of the Costa Award 2008, The Secret Scripture explores the lives of both, Dr. Grene (a psychiatrist) and his centerian patient, Roseanne, as both characters reflect on their life from their youngest days, to where are they at this point in time.

Roseanne McNulty has enjoyed the comforts of the Roscommon Mental Hospital for more decades than she can remember. However, the hospital is about to be demolished, and Dr. Grene is re-assessing his patients, to see who are free to roam the outside world, and who need to go through the pains of moving hospitals.

When Dr. Grene breaks the news to her, and says he'll need to revisit her admission to the hospital, she starts reflecting on her life, from her earliest memories, and jots them down, addressing the reader of the 'scripture'. However, she's reluctant to share her memories with her doctor, and keeps the scriptures hidden from the hospital staff, by keeping it under a loose floorboard. Calling herself a cailleach (the old crone of stories, the wise woman, and sometimes a kind of witch), Roseanne tries to keep her writing as accurate as possible, but, as she admits

No one has the monopoly on truth, not even myself.

At the same time, Dr. Grene is dealing with the pains of his personal life, with the estrangement of his wife, despite living in the same house, followed by her death.

We are not wolves, but lambs astonished in the margins of the fields by sunlight and summer. She lost her world, Martha. And I lost mine. No doubt it was well deserved. Whatever her husband suffered was not, and whatever Bet suffered I know for a certainty was not.

Because faithfulness is not a human question, but a divine one.

As Dr. Grene tries finding out more about Roseanne, while battling his own problems, the book progresses into a beautiful piece, with some incredible memories, and some terribly sad ones (and some disturbing ones). The reader cannot help but empathize with both characters, as they struggle to figure out how they got to where they are: from Roseanne's early childhood memories and the silence of her mother, to her father's unfortunate death, to her marriage with Tom McNulty which was followed by an annulment, to the birth of her child, which was taken away from her - a lot of which boiled down to her being Presbyterian. She acknowledges her loneliness, at various stages of her life, and the reader cannot help but feel a tug in their heart as they read her story.

How I wished suddenly for my own mother to seek for me, so fiercely, so sweatingly, to find me again on the lost strand of the world, to rescue me, to recruit others for my rescue, to bring me again to her breast, as that distant mother so obviously ached ached to do with the happy creature in my arms.

With almost poetic writing, Barry brings to life a realistic Ireland during the 1922 civil war, where there's the smell of death and betrayal; where idealism is being compromised, and, innocence lost; where the only thing that matters is being on the side of power, and surviving. The characters are incredibly well-drawn, specially that of Fr. Gaunt - a character I grew to hate as the book progressed, for it was he who seemed to be making life very difficult for Roseanne, just because she did not follow his instructions.

Both, the beauty and the problem of the book lies in the first person narration of Roseanne and Dr. Grene, as they both write in their respective journals. It is easy for the reader to lose track of whose reflections they are reading, and as the stories come together, it gets confusing... specially as, Barry also highlights the meetings between the various characters in the present-day (i.e. the whole book is not written in a reflective manner).

I really enjoyed the book, and Barry's writing flows so lyrically that it makes this a very pleasant reading experience. You feel like the characters are in front of you telling you their stories, and you can actually see all the emotions that must be flowing through them at each moment.

Rating: 4