A beautiful and quirky journey

The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet by Reif Larsen

This book is a thing of beauty. It stands out being an oversized hardback and invites you to pick it up and look inside ... whereupon you'll see all the intricate illustrations, sidebars and marginalia. Then reading the blurb, you'll find out that it is the story of a 12 year old genius, Tecumseh Sparrow Spivet, how he gets to be invited to go to the Smithsonian Museum in Washington DC and his journey to get there. Totally captivating already without reading a word.

TS, as he likes to be known, lives on a remote ranch in Montana. His father is a taciturn cowboy, his mother is a talented scientist totally obsessed with studying rare beetles, his sister is a typical teenage girl. His brother, Layton we soon find out died a few months previously. His is not a typical household, and TS is not a typical boy. He loves nothing more than to understand the world by mapping it - drawing illustrations, diagrams, and making lists. His mentor Dr Yorn submitted some of his work to the Smithsonian, not telling them he was only 12. So when they call inviting him to come and accept a prestigious award, TS sees his chance to escape Montana and make a pilgrimage to the home of learning, so he runs away and jumps a train hobo-style. Having grabbed one of his mother's notebooks, he starts to read it on the train, and is surprised to discover it's not one of her beetle books, but the draft of a biography of one of his ancestors on his father's side, who went on to become the first woman professor of geology. Eventually after many adventures, he arrives in DC. To his surprise, (but not ours), the museum sees that it can capitalise on their prize-winner being only 12, and the media circus starts leaving TS homesick and missing his family, and where for the first time, we see him as just a boy.

I really took to TS. He's a loveable geek and an independent spirit. He struggles to understand his parents, especially since the death of his brother though. Throughout his journey, we share his confusion, his grief and need for space. In the boredom of the long train ride, through reading his mother's manuscript, he begins to understand his heritage and to find his place in the scheme of things. The middle section on the train did slightly drag (intentionally I would wager), but the imagery (and TS's maps) of the locomotive gradually thackety-thacking its way through the American mid-west are fantastic.

"I willed the landscape to stop, for the miniature men to stop cranking the scenery across my vision with that little landscape machine of theirs. Alas, the landscape continued flowing past with what seemed like an increasingly sadistic determination."

This is a totally charming book. I loved everything about it - especially all the diagrams and footnotes. Also wonderful is the masterful way the author has teased out the story of the Spivet family - by the end of the novel we care about them all deeply. TS's realisation, like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, that there's 'No place like home' and his subsquent rescue may have the merest hint of schmaltz but is actually a truly satisfying ending to an amazing tale. (10/10)

Moviewatch - Coraline (3D)

I read neil Gaiman's wonderful children's novel Coraline last month and blogged about it here, knowing the movie was out this month. Given a choice I always prefer to read the book and then see the movie. So yesterday my daughter and I went to see the film...

It was also our first movie in 3D. At Easter we went to see Monsters v Aliens. The cinema had it in both 2D and 3D; Juliet was wary of the glasses, so we opted for the 2D (which was cheaper too). Fortunately for us, Coraline was only on show in 3D this time, and despite the slightly uncomfortable glasses it was worth the difference.

The new system uses polarized light to produce steroscopic images - ie what each eye would see. The two images are projected in alternate frames with a higher than normal frame rate, and the polarized glasses then ensure that each eye sees its intended picture only - but its fast enough that it seems continuous and the brain combines them to get the full picture. If you don't have the glasses, a scene with a large and detailed depth of field will seem blurred. But enough of the science - on to the film!

Just as in the book, Coraline is a very practical and independent young girl, not much phases her. So when she discovers the passage into an altenate world where her other mother and father can't do enough for her, compared with her too busy parents in the real one, she enjoys herself. But when her other mother says she can stay but only if she lets her replace her eyes with black buttons, (here the needle and thread come straight at you in 3D), she's only scared for a moment, and talks her way out of it and solves the other problems then put in her path steadily. That's the only problem really - it is a dark story, but in the film she's not scared enough. Maybe this was a deliberate ploy to protect the sensibilities of young children, but it did dampen down the action, and the evil other mother seems rather easily defeated in the end.

Visually - it is totally stunning. Stop motion has never looked so good, made with hundreds of precision models as opposed to Wallace and Gromit's homely 'Claymation' style. The 3D effects have been used brilliantly throughout. The old ladies (voiced by French and Saunders) were grotesquely funny - and made us laugh with their half-naked vaudeville act.

One recommendation - if you see the film - do visit the website http://coraline.com/ afterwards - it's rather fab with loads of things to do including see what you look like with buttons for eyes - you have been warned!

Incoming

There are so many good books arriving at the moment, here's a few I'm particularly looking forward to reading...

The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters - the eagerly awaited ghost story that we're all looking forward to reading. It's a classic country house tale set shortly after the end of WWII.


Hearts and Minds by Amanda Craig - the sixth novel from one of my favourite novelists and a masterful book reviewer. It is set in London and follows the intersecting lives of five totally different people. Dovegreyreader recently interviewed Amanda, and the result was a fascinating insight into her inspiration for this novel which makes it an absolute must read soon for me. It was lovely to hear that Craig is back on her feet after a long illness too.



In a Summer Season by Elizabeth Taylor. Many have recommended this author to me, and I couldn't resist - especially as Virago are reissuing many of her novels with stunning covers - isn't that photo wonderful? I hope that I'll love her books as much as everyone else does, and when I've read a few, I'll turn to Nicola Beauman's biography of her.

At the House of the Magician by Mary Hooper. This is a novel for older children/young adults set in Elizabethan times. It features a young maid who works in the house of Doctor Dee, court magician and alchemist, and she uncovers a plot to assassinate the queen. Hooper has written a handful of historical novels for this age group which all get brilliant write-ups - I hope she is another great discovery.


Snoop by Samuel Gosling. As someone whose first action whenever I go into anyone's house is to look for the bookshelf (discretely of course!), I think I'll really enjoy this book of pop psychology on what your stuff says about you..

And last but not least If I Stay by Gayle Forman. This, a children's book was another recommendation by Dovegreyreader who loved it and gushed about it but couldn't really write about it without giving the plot away. So I rushed out to order it as it sounds brilliant. Thanks dgr.

One of the best book quotes ...

Hunting out a book to lend to a friend, I stumbled over Melvyn Bragg's excellent biography of Richard Burton Rich: The Life of Richard Burton. This in turn reminded me of a wonderful quote of Burton's I read in the newspaper absolutely ages ago. Apparently the Burtons didn't travel light - Richard always took a trunk of books and when asked about his love of reading said:


Home is where the books are.

... Need one say more!

This novel snaps, crackles and pops with electricity

The Invention of Everything Else by Samantha Hunt

This Orange prize short-listed novel has had some mixed reviews. To be honest, it's a bit of a mixture itself, refusing to be easily genrified being: part fictionalised biography of mad physicist Nikola Tesla, part love story, part time-travel SF/fantasy, and part mainstream novel set in New York during WWII.

Although it's not perfect, I loved all of it. When I was a teenager and at university, I read virtually nothing but science fiction and fantasy. I don't read many mainstream SF novels these days, but my love of the genre has matured into a particular liking for speculative fiction set in the recent past through to near future, (I'm thinking Ishiguru's Never let me go and The Time Traveller's Wife here - both books I adored reading). Although I'm a physics-based scientist by training, I find I am able to escape into these sorts of novels - ignoring the impossibilities and improbabilities and enjoying the ride without quibbling over the science.

This escapism is only possible though when backed up by good research and quality writing, which luckily is in evidence here. Samantha Hunt has chosen well, for Nikola Tesla is the very epitomy of the mad scientist - a craftsman as a trained engineer, and a true innovator living mainly in his head, and full of quirks.

The novel is set in 1943 during the last weeks of Tesla's life, when he was living in a hotel room in New York; broke and a recluse with pigeons as his only friends left. His mind is still full of plans for fantastic wireless electrical devices including a controversial death ray which just reinforced people's view of him as a mad scientist. Earlier, he was never able to really capitalise on his development of AC systems which overtook Edison's lesser DC ones. He let go of his ideas for radio too and Marconi leapt in to steal the limelight.

As a counterpart to his story, we meet Louisa, a chambermaid at the hotel. Louisa's mother died in childbirth, but she is very close to her father, also an engineer and pigeon fancier. Her first encounter with Tesla is when he causes a power-cut in the hotel:

The door opens.
To see God would have surprised Louisa less. From inside the room just down the hallway, power, electricity, whirling motion, and glowing bright as the sun spill out into the dark. The porter and manager each raise a hand to cover their eyes. And there in the aura of this wonder is man most unlike other men. A slender frame, terrific height, silver hair that reaches down his forehead in a peak. Louisa notices the dark hollows of his cheeks and even the fine length of his fingers on the doorjamb. He is lovely. Louisa catches her breath. Her mouth hangs open at the hinge. He is stunning, like Dracula grown old, like cold black branches covered with snow in the winter.

So we compare and contrast the two men through Louisa - her father and his friend Azor who thinks he's built a time-machine; and the scientist most likely get there first if only he wasn't 86. I got swept up in the romance of the whole thing and would heartily recommend it. But if you like your science more cut and dried - you'll miss out on the magic of this book. (9/10)

Another interesting review of this fascinating novel can be found on dovegreyreader's blog.

Slipping down the list - oops! - Sorry

A couple of months ago I won this book in a draw from Librarything's Early Reviewers programme - winners are asked to read and review the books won. Vilnius Poker by Ricardas Gavelis is a novel new in translation by Open Letter Books - I'm told by a Lithuanian Librarything user that it is considered a modern classic in his country.

The blurb made it sound really interesting: "Considered to be the "turning point" of Lithuanian literature, Vilnius Poker depicts the mental dissolution of Vytautas Vargalys, a survivor of the Soviet labor camps who works an absurd job at a library and feels like Lithuania is being crushed by a mysterious "Them." "They" might include the aptly named Lolita, a young girl who comes to work for the library and starts an affair with Vytautas..."

When it arrived though, it was obviously a chunky novel, 485 pages to be precise, and the type is small. Now I've got my new lenses in my reading glasses, small typefaces are no longer a problem, but I've read the first few pages a few times and promptly fallen asleep. I promise I will read it and I'm sure if I can get a way into it, it'll be worth it. The problem is that loads of really exciting books keep appearing all over the place - and I can't resist them.

What did mother do in the war?

The Spy Game by Georgina Harding

The direct gaze of the woman sipping a cup of tea on the dustjacket of the UK hardback really caught my eye - a spendid cover and evocative title too. Reading the blurb, I fully expected an espionage story straight out of John Le Carre, but this thoughtful and slow-burning novel is something completely different.

Set in the post-war years of the Cold War, Anna's mother goes out in the car into the fog, and she never sees her again. The same day, a spy case involving people who were very ordinary breaks in the news. This leads Anna's brother Peter to wonder if his mother was a sleeper, a spy in deep-cover waiting to be called into action. He can't believe she just died in a car accident - he's sure she's alive somewhere with a different identity.

Their mother was a refugee from eastern Germany - with no family left - that's all they know about her; their rather distant father prefers to disappear into his garden. This allows Peter to obsess about an alter ego for her - who she may have been meeting, what she may have been involved in. Anna is confused and feels her mother's loss strongly, but goes along with her brother's game. Eventually Peter goes off to boarding school, but he's still haunted by his imaginings. The children grow up, grow apart and start families of their own. When Anna's father dies, she feels a need for closure with her mother too, and plans to visit Konigsberg where she was born ...

This profound and subtle novel explores loss and letting go. You feel a little of what it was like to be a 'German' or Eastern European in England after the war, with that slight strangeness and not quite fitting in to the quintessentially English countryside, that led Peter's imagination into overload. Beautifully written, it takes its time getting to its conclusion, concentrating on the motherless siblings seen from Anna's perspective, and how her disappearance affects their lives. At times, it was almost too slow-burning, but overall it was a powerful and thoughtful read. (8/10)

Dear, oh dear, oh dear ...

Did you see the Apprentice last night? The teams had to pick products to sell at 'The Baby Show'. Mercifully both teams had the good sense not to choose the baby stilettoes on offer.

What were the designers of this product thinking of when they came up with these? They're crib shoes for teeny, tiny babies of up 0-6 months for heavens sake. They make their wearers ... no scrub that ... they make whomever dresses their baby up in them look total bloomin' idiots in my opinion. Nuff said!

An evening with Marina Fiorato

Last night, we were treated to an Italian evening at Mostly Books in Abingdon to celebrate the publication of Marina Fiorato's second novel which I blogged about here, her first novel having been a hit with us. We had antipasti, biscotti, amaretti, and plenty of Amaretto to wash it all down. I've only had Amaretto in puddings before - drinking it on its own was delicious, (I think it'll be lovely with ice too!).

The Madonna of the Almonds was inspired by the story of the liqueur's invention, and Marina produced an original 1970s Amaretto box which has the legend on the back. It was drinking the contents and reading the box that got her started. Due to the success of her first novel, she could afford a research trip to Italy and visited Saronno, Pavia from Milan. The frescoes painted by her hero Bernardino Luini in Saronno and Milan were all of the same lady with a beautiful luminous face.

She went on to tell us about her next novel 'The Botticelli secret' due out next March, which features a Florentine whore and a monk who decipher the symbolism in Botticelli's masterpiece 'Primavera' - a giant canvas which now hangs in the Uffizi in Florence. I can't wait.

When friendship is put to the test ...

The Spare Room by Helen Garner

Helen's old friend Nicola is coming to stay with her for three weeks while she undergoes an alternative cancer treatment - everything is ready for her. When Nicola arrives, it's immediately clear that she's in a really bad state and that even though she won't admit it, she hasn't that long to live. Helen has to cope on two fronts - having to be her friend's carer, and also she's full of anger at the useless yet expensive treatment Nicola's receiving - it doesn't help at all, and Helen is left to pick up the pieces.

This short novel, written after a friend of the author died from cancer, is the brutally honest story of a friendship that is tested to the limit, and the straws people will cling to in the belief that it'll do them good. Told from Helen's point of view, you'll laugh, cry and get angry with her all the way through, and it gives a real glimpse of what it's like to be a carer - even if only for a short while.

If you'd like to read more, a short interview with the author and excellent review can be found on dovegreyreader scribbles. This novel was fully expected to make the Booker longlist last year but, inexplicably to many, didn't appear - maybe its brevity got it held back. There was a lot of discussion about whether On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan was a novel or novella the previous year. On a final note, don't you think the original hardback cover (top right) says a lot that the new paperback cover (top left) doesn't? (Book supplied by Librarything Early Reviewers programme)

What do you do when love is the only thing left?

The Road by Cormac McCarthy is the third novel I've read this year that is set in a post-apocalyptic world. The others were Far North by Marcel Theroux (reviewed here) and Riddley Walker by Russell Hoban (reviewed here).

In the post-nuke timeline, The Road is set in the years immediately after the big one and it's the grimmest by far. When our book group met last week to discuss Riddley Walker, we had a really interesting debate on whether life would really regress to an iron age existence ... Some of our number weren't sure - surely a few scientists and engineers etc would survive be able to get things going again they said. The others of us said that finding and then growing food and making shelter would be the priority for years afterwards and no time and effort could be spared for anything else. We were down the pub after all, so we waxed lyrical about a rather romanticised world where we'd all learn to be blacksmiths and so on.

This was the beer talking - for this week having read The Road I feel that I know without doubt that it would not be like that at all...

Nuclear winter is setting in. The American landscape is grey - almost everything is burnt or buried in ash. There is no wildlife, it's either died or been eaten, human bodies are everywhere - dessicated and mummified by ash, others rotten, some obviously cannibalised. It still rains ash and the weather is getting colder. For those that live, survival is the only thing on their minds. Foraging for food, clothes and shelter; protecting themselves from other, now few and far between, survivors.

We follow the progress of a father and son - not named, just trying to take the road south to the sea where they think it'll be warmer. They're constantly exhausted, starving, cold and ill, their whole world contained within a shopping trolley. His overwhelming love for and instinct to protect his son is the only thing keeping the father alive, the only thing he has worth living for. The son remains full of hope that when they get to the coast, everything will be alright, that they'll find some good guys - the father does his best to keep that belief alive.

The book is written in short bursts, each giving a glimpse of what living in this awful new world is like. We don't find out much at all about what happened - it's nearly all about the 'now' for father and son - what point is there dwelling on a past that can never be recovered.

A few pages in you stop being irritated by the bitty style and start engaging in your own journey with them - there's a rhythm to the daily grind which makes it a strangely beautiful read. It's relentlessly grim, and incredibly sad and moving, and a very scary vision of a possible future that we mustn't let happen. (10/10)

An Afternoon with Sally Gardner

I was lucky enough to be able to visit the school of St Helen & St Katherine in Abingdon today, where children's author Sally Gardner came to talk to the girls. Her new book is The Silver Blade, the follow-up to her brilliant novel The Red Necklace which I reviewed here last month. Having so enjoyed the first of these novels set during the French revolution, I've been waiting for the second to hit the shops, and was even more delighted to be able to hear her talk and get it signed too. She has done masses of research on the revolution and gone back to many original diaries and sources in order to be as accurate as possible, and I'm looking forward to reading it immensely.

Sally introduced herself and told us a little about her school experiences. Severely dyslexic, she was repeatedly expelled because she couldn't read and ended up in a special school for maladjusted children, where one day aged fourteen she picked up a copy of Wuthering Heights and a love of reading was born.

She then studied art and was a talented set and costume designer, but turned to books to make a living when left alone with three small children. As an artist, her first books were picture books for little people based on nursery rhymes and fairy tales which showcased her skills in illustration. From there she moved on to picture books with stories - we liked Fairy Shopping, which imagines a bustling town full of shops catering to every fairy's needs. Then she moved on to writing illustrated novels for children including her Magical Children series which my daughter really enjoyed.

Growing in confidence, she got an idea for her first novel for 9+yrs. I, Coriander, a tale set in 1650s London and suffused with fairy magic was the result and won the Nestles Children's Book Prize, and has now been followed by her two French revolution ones. She told us she's currently working on a novel set in the 1930s and featuring a Lancaster bomber which she's researching at the moment.

What I've enjoyed in particular about her books is that she has a really deft touch with magic. It seems entirely natural and doesn't intrude. Her illustrations for younger readers are beautifully detailed and gently hued. Hearing her talk about her triumph of her imagination over her dyslexia was inspiring and the girls asked her some interesting questions. She's been through some rough times, and throughly deserves her success.

Back to normal book blogging soon - promise ...

Sorry everyone, I've not been getting much reading done during the past couple of days as my lovely other half got me my own laptop for my birthday - and it's red - very important that! Consequently I've been too busy playing and transferring files on my new toy - trying out how it plays DVDs, loading lots of albums up to i-tunes, downloading my favourite funky fonts - all that sort of stuff. Must get some headphones - the on-board speakers are not so good.

Then next I need a carrying case ... I'll go up to Bicester Shopping Village soon to the Kipling store (I love their bags) and see what's on offer I think - unless you have any recommendations ...

Pocket Money

Most bloggers do it because they have something to say, they want to share their opinions and hear yours. I've found that the blogosphere is a fantastic way of making virtual friends.
It is nice to get a bit of pocket money on the side though, so most of us are affiliated to one or more internet emporia. If you click on certain links like book titles or authors' names, apart from reading other people's reviews on a product too, you might be tempted to buy - then we bloggers as the linkers earn some pennies in commission.

Up until now, I've been linking to Amazon (UK) - but have yet to earn enough to trigger a payout anyway! The Book Depository has recently started an affiliates scheme so I've signed up to that, (they give a straight 5% commission). They offer free P&P worldwide, and some of their prices are cheaper than Amazon, so all my book links will link to them, others still to the other place. There's a button on the sidebar if you'd like to check them out.

Commercial over - back to books next post.

Magazine addiction

I love magazines - at one time I used to subscribe to about 25 or more. Nowadays I prefer to read more books and less monthlies, but I'm not a casual picker-up of occasional issues in general - I always subscribe to get the best deal, (this has been made a lot easier by using Tesco Clubcard points for many publications!). Although I've reduced the number a lot, there are still quite a few monthly must-reads for me, including:

• Empire - I've read this since issue 1, and for my money it's the best UK movie mag. I tried Sight and Sound for a while, but that was just too intellectual. Empire has a bit of everything in the film world.


• The Word - I used to get Mojo and before that Q for all my music needs, but moved to The Word along with all the ex-Mojo and Q journos like Mark Ellen who jumped off the Emap ship to set up this independent mostly-music mag. It also happens to feature a bit of TV, books, film and anything else that takes their fancy, and has a great CD sampler each month.


• Vanity Fair - Some issues are all about American businessmen, more minor US politicans, or US TV folk that are unknown in the UK, but they do land some biggie-interviews and it's worth subscribing on one of their half-price offers to catch them. Their photography portfolios of film stars etc are always good to look at too.


• National Geographic - I started subscribing to this last year (using a Tesco deal), and was totally wowed by it. The articles and photography are just astounding, and although slightly US-centred, it's absolutely fascinating from cover to cover. Big feature on that mummified baby mammoth this month!


• The Literary Review - I couldn't get on with The London Review of Books or The Times Lit Supplement, but love the Lit Review. I even enjoy reading the entries in their monthly poetry competition. The reviews are history heavy - but that saves me having to read much of the subject. Fiction does get a look in too and there's a crime digest each issue. Chris Riddell's covers are always brilliant and the pithy captions to illustrations are often highly amusing.


• Living etc - of all the housey mags, this is my favourite. The interiors within are trendy, eclectic, often white and minimalist, sometimes bright and delightfully cluttered. These are all what I'd like my house to be - but will never manage because I have too many books and not enough space!


• Good Housekeeping - this is my guilty secret. It's a comfort read. Useful consumer articles, good recipes. I only get it so I can pass it on to my Mum, (said with crossed-fingers behind back). I get Easy Living too - for 30-40 somethings who don't want to read Marie Claire and the like any more.


• Wired - This is brand new in the UK. I missed the launch issue, but got No 2 yesterday and was instantly hooked. It is a beautifully designed mag full of lots of wonderful things to drool over, plus many very interesting techy articles. Unfortunately I may have to save it until I get my eyes tested, some of the print is very small and I need new reading glasses!

If I could have just one of them though, it'd have to be The Word. Having grown up with the guys (and a few gals) who write it through their previous ventures, I feel particularly in tune with their slightly geeky world. Now available with Tesco deal tokens too, but you can check out The Word website here.

From bitter almonds comes sweet romance ...

Madonna of the Almonds by Marina Fiorato

I was delighted to meet Marina a couple of months ago as I had so enjoyed her debut novel, The Glassblower of Murano, which I had blogged about last autumn here. She's a real character! - half-Italian with a mass of red Titian hair, a northern accent and sense of humour to match. I was equally pleased to receive a review copy of her new book, and lovers of well-researched historical romances will not be disappointed.

It's set in Lombardy, specifically Saronno - home to the famous liqueur Amaretto, and the story behind the creation of that exotic tipple is the inspiration for the novel. In the early 1500s a church in Saronno commissioned frescoes from one of Leonardo Da Vinci's students - Bernardino Luini. Luini needed a model for the Madonna and it's said that a young widowed innkeeper posed for him - and became his lover. To thank him, she created Amaretto from apricot kernels steeped in brandy, and the legend was born.

Bernardino Luini is real - his work can be seen in museums around the world, and his frescoes of the Madonna in Saronno, and the Saints in a Milanese monastery exist. The latter in particular are said to be particularly fine and equal in skill to that of his master Da Vinci. Apart from his art, not much is known of his life, so Fiorato has been able to weave a rich narrative involving him and the Amaretto legend.

The author has made the widow of this tale a young noblewoman, Simonetta, forced into straightened circumstances after her husband's premature death in battle. With no money in the coffers, she may be forced to borrow money from a Jew, but in Manodorato, she finds a friend rather than foe who persuades her to try to make some money rather than borrow. She reluctantly agrees to pose for the painter, a known philanderer and unbeliever, but he falls in love with his muse and she begins to have feelings too - but she's still meant to be in mourning. A stolen kiss leads to their denouncement in front of the visiting Cardinal and Bernardino has to flee. Simonetta retreats to her villa where she finds a still and experiments with the almonds growing in her orchard - and we know where that will lead!

The main story is set against a period in history where the Jews were being subjugated wherever they settled, extra-marital relationships would likely end in execution, and corrupt cardinals had their fingers in many pies. Yet (renaissance) art is a powerful redeemer; and having escaped to an abbey in Milan, Luini starts to paint frescoes of the Saints - martyrs all, and finds himself and what he must do in their agonies.

Marina has created another richly imagined world and this made for an immensely satisfying comfort read - a summer bestseller for sure. Her first novel had Venice as a co-star; here art fulfills that role admirably and should I go to Milan, I'd love to see the Luini frescoes. The only irony though is that although we strongly associate Amaretto with almonds, the current liqueur is 'Nut-free'! (8/10)

A difficult and challenging read - stay with it to be rewarded!

Riddley Walker by Russell Hoban

Let's face it, my book group is probably thinking (to use Sir Alan's phrase from this week's Apprentice) there must be "a village looking for an idiot", for I chose this book as our monthly read. No disrespect to them intended for, although we are a quite literary lot, this book was far, far away from our normal fare. A couple of us had read and enjoyed some of Hoban's other novels, which are quirky, fun and fairly light. I said "Let's try Riddley Walker then, it's his cult one," knowing nothing else about it. Little did I know what I was letting myself in for ...

You see, it's written entirely in a degenerate pidgin English - Riddleyspeak. Right from the off, you can tell it'll be terribly difficult to read and require much concentration. For a novel of 220 pages plus intro and notes it has taken me ages to read, and I did breathe a sigh of relief at the end - but it was a strangely rewarding experience. I admit it took me about eighty pages to get into the Riddleyspeak. Before that, I was having to read everything two or three times to work it out (a short glossary at the back helps on occasion), later I could read it fairly fluently if I concentrated. It is also a novel steeped in the ancient storytelling tradition, and we frequently break off for a tale handed down and mutated through generations of post-apocalpytic folk.

Set in Kent way in the future, mankind has returned to an Iron Age existence after the 1 big 1 wiped out any normal way of life. Those that remain have to scrimp out their existence by hunting and foraging, and wild dogs make the forests unsafe for lone travellers. Although they have a simple life, the villagers and travelling gangs who put on shows are desperate to regain their clevverness; they search the dumps and ruins for clues. Rare ancient artifacts unearthed take on religious and cultural significance and are interpreted in a way that takes account of all the legends and superstitions that have grown up after the apocalypse.

Riddley is just twelve. His Dad is a connexion man in their village; a shamanistic, even clerical role to summon up words of wisdom from his sixth sense to help them make sense of this strange new world. His Dad dies in an accident and Riddley, newly initiated into manhood, takes on his role, but soon wonders that there must be more to life than this after the Eusa show arrives. He runs away, and we follow his adventures with him on his oansome and celebrate his coming of age.

Now I've finished the book, my first reaction after that initial sigh of relief was that I definitely need to read it again. I'm sure I'll get so much more out of it on a second reading as it's chock full of symbolism. The myths of the Green Man, which as a pagan symbol is scattered throughout Canterbury cathedral where Hoban got his inspiration for the book, and Punch and Judy shows in particular resonate through the book - this was fascinating, but it'll have to wait though. It is a daunting yet rewarding read and also an important novel. The edition I read, had an interesting introduction by Will Self whose Book of Dave also employs its own dialect, and also an afterword and notes by the author, which were useful and elucidating. For a first reading I'll rate it 7/10.

If you enjoy post-apocalyptic fiction without the Riddleyspeak, you may like to try A Canticle for Leibowitz (Bantam Spectra Book) by Walter M Miller, in which there are obvious parallels in the worship of misinterpreted artifacts. I also plan to finally get round to reading about the nuclear winter of The Road by Carmac McCarthy as soon as I can.