edwinbcn's Reading Journal 2011: Part 2

My reading is very eclectic as a result of the fact that I have broad interests, have been cut off from my library for most of my life (just always living in different places), and, while living in China, having limited access to books.

I hope my log may inspire others, especially my students!

Here's Part 2 for 2011.

So far, I have read the following books this year:

January 2011
1. The witches of Eastwick by John Updike
2. Mokusei ! by Cees Nooteboom
3. Een zakenlunch in Sintra, en andere Portugese verhalen by Gerrit Komrij
4. Verlovingstijd by Maarten 't Hart
5. Wagner matinee by Willa Cather
6. Un garçon d'Italie by Philippe Besson
7. Winds in the woods. The story of John Muir by John Stewart
8. Travels in hyperreality by Umberto Eco
9. The death of grass by John Christopher
10. La petite fille de Monsieur Linh by Philippe Claudel
11. The play room by Olivia Manning
12. Cause for alarm by Eric Ambler
13. The sailor who fell from grace with the sea by Yukio Mishima
14. The kite runner by Khaled Hosseini
15. Solar by Ian McEwan
16. Beyond words. How language reveals the way we live now by John Humphreys

February 2011
17. Dirt music by Tim Winton
18. Devil's Night, and other true tales of Detroit by Zev Chafets
19. Een droom met heel veel groen by Louis Verbeeck
20. Ich bin meine eigene Frau. Ein Leben by Charlotte von Mahlsdorf
21. The mask of Dimitrios by Eric Ambler
22. A citizen of the country by Sarah Smith
23. A widow for one year by Jogn Irving
24. A Burmese legacy by Sue Arnold
25. Bamboo Palace. Discovering the lost dynasty of Laos by Christopher Kremmer
26. The autographman by Zadie Smith
27. The knowledge of water by Sarah Smith
28. The botany of desire. A plant's-eye view of the world by Michael Pollan
29. The trespasser by D.H. Lawrence
30. Heavenly intrigue: Johannes Kepler, Tycho Brahe, and the murder behind one of history's greatest scientific discoveries by Joshua and Anne-Lee Gilder
31. Lawnboy by Paul Lisicky

March 2011
32. Een Hollander in Parijs. Articles de Paris by Simon Carmiggelt
33. Doodverf by A.F.Th. van der Heijden
34. Mr Mee by Andrew Crumey
35. Walk yourself thin by David A. Rives
36. Ultramarijn by Henk van Woerden
37. Het engeltje by Wessel te Gussinklo
38. Wie is van hout... Een gang door de psychiatrie by Jan Foudraine
39. De ortolaan by Maarten 't Hart
40. Karelische nachten by Louis Ferron
41. Cuba en andere reisverhalen by Paul de Wispelaere
42. Imago by Carl Spitteler
43. Verhalend en essayistisch proza alsmede gedichten by Carl Spitteler
44. "... einmal wirklich leben". Ein Tagebuch in Briefen an Hedwig Andersch, 1943 bis 1975 by Alfred Andersch
45. Het afscheid by Ivo Michels
46. Maybe the moon by Armistead Maupin
47. Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer
48. Een tafel vol vlinders by Tim Krabbé
49. De pianoman by J. Bernlef

April 2011
50. Doctor Sax. Faust part three by Jack Kerouac
51. The Book of Mechtilde by Anna Ruth Henriques
52. Piranha to Scurfy and other stories by Ruth Rendell
53. What a carve up! by Jonathan Coe
54. Meneer Toto-tolk by J. Bernlef
55. Burning bright by John Steinbeck
56. Lolliepop by Marion Pauw
57. Falling man by Don DeLillo
58. Eerder thuis dan Townes by P.F. Thomése
59. 'n Kleintje Krol by Gerrit Krol
60. Eat, pray, love. One woman's search for everything across Italy, India and Indonesia by Elizabeth Gilbert
61. Se résoudre aux adieux by Philippe Besson
62. Een korrel zand by Jan van den Weghe
63. De reünie by Simone van der Vlugt
64. L'étudiant étranger by Philippe Labro
65. Amerika. Een hoorcollege moderne geschiedenis van de VS by Maarten van Rossem
66. Rendez-vous au Colorado by Philippe Labro
67. Paroles de troubadours by Jean-Claude Marol
68. De slavenring by Simone van der Vlugt
69. Wit zand by Kristien Hemmerechts
70. The curious incident of the dog in the night-time by Mark Haddon
71. Bangkok people by James Eckardt
72. Old Men in Love. John Tunnock's posthumous papers by Alasdair Gray
73. Hemelrijk by Thé Lau

May 2011
74. The cliff by David Slavitt
75. Het koekoeksjong by Brigitte Raskin
76. The hundred and ninety-nine steps by Michael Faber
77. The Courage Consort by Michael Faber
78. Pompeii by Robert Harris
79. Vanwege een tere huid by Anton Koolhaas
80. Daalder by Philibert Schogt
81. A house In Flanders by Michael Jenkins
82. My life as a fake by Peter Carey
83. Lieve Gerard. Brieven aan Gerard Reve, 1965-1980 by Bernard Sijtsma
84. Signals of distress by Jim Crace
85. Vertraging by Tim Krabbé
86. One good turn by Kate Atkinson
87. De zwaardvis by Hugo Claus
88. Nirgendwo in Afrika by Stefanie Zweig

June 2011
89. Engelen van het duister by Jan Siebelink
90. Irgendwo in Deutschland by Stefanie Zweig
91. Nirgendwo in Afrika / Irgendwo in Deutschland by Stefanie Zweig
92. Eeuwige zomer by Mireille Cottenjé
93. Un homme accidentel by Philippe Besson
94. Winterwood by Patrick McCabe
95. La douceur du sang by Boris Schreiber
96. Tod eines Kritikers by Martin Walser
97. Instances of the number 3 by Sally Vickers
98. The red leather diary. Reclaiming a life through the pages of a lost journal by Lily Koppel
99. Dreaming in Chinese. Mandarin lessons in life, love and language by Deborah Fallows
100. The black cloud by Fred Hoyle
101. Voyage en Italie by Jean Giono
102. Lametta Lasziv. Ein kleiner festlicher Roman by Joseph von Westphalen
103. Consider this, Señora by Harriet Doerr
104. Meine grüne Wiese. Geschichten und Zeichnungen by Günter Grass
105. Cartas del Presidio The prison letters of Fidel Castro by Fidel Castro

July 2011
106. La pleurante des rues de Prague by Sylvie Germain
107. Athena by John Banville
108. The Darwin conspiracy by John Darnton
109. Winter and rough weather by D. E. Stevenson
110. The body artist by Don DeLillo
111. The double by Fyodor Dostoevsky
112. Notes from the underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky

August 2011
113. Any human heart by William Boyd
114. In Persuasion Nation by George Saunders
115. Het hemelse gerecht by Renate Dorrestein
116. Die Unbekannte by Reinhold Conrad Muschler
117. Radikalisierung und Mitte. Zwei Vorträge. by Golo Mann
118. Rede vom Verlust. über den Niedergang der politischen Kultur im geeinten Deutschland by Günter Grass
119. The mystery of Olga Chekhova by Antony Beevor
120. Supertex by Leon de Winter
121. The wounds of hunger by Luis Spota
122. Quarantine by Jim Crace
123. This side of brightness by Colum McCann
124. Out of Mao's shadow. The struggle for the soul of a New China by Philip P. Pan
125. The mind's eye by Oliver Sacks
126. Day by A.L. Kennedy
127. The Thanatos Syndrome by Walker Percy
128. The tragedy of the Korosko
129. Star of the Sea. Farewell to Old Ireland by Joseph O'Connor

September 2011
130. Destiny by Tim Parks
131. The comfort of strangers by Ian McEwan
132. The pale king by David Foster Wallace
133. The lucky country by Donald Horne
134. The wild boys. A book of the dead by William S. Burroughs
135. Tilt. A skewed history of the Tower of Pisa by Nicholas Shrady
136. Die Unwissenheit by Milan Kundera
137. The red thread by Nicholas Jose
138. The painted veil by W. Somerset Maugham
139. Remembering Babylon by David Malouf
140. Everything in this country must by Colum McCann

October 2011
141. Lobster Moth by Niall Duthie
142. Sweetness in the belly by Camilla Gibb
143. The blue afternoon by William Boyd
144. Sunset Park by Paul Auster

145. Being dead
Finished reading: 7 October 2011



Being dead by Jim Crace is a gruesome story. It opens with the brutal murder of Celice and Joseph, a middle-aged couple of university professors. The story recounts, as their lives are described backwards, the process of dying and decay, with minute precision. The story spirals around the general motive of death. Other deaths, such as that of the couple's study friend, mirror this general theme. Death(s) crop up all over the story. The minute observations of death seem to mock the couple's life as biology professors, observing the minutae of life. At the same time, while death is usually the factor to separate people, the death of Celice and Joseph brings them together with their rebellious daughter, who has been living her own self-destructive life-style.

The story moves from raucous realism, to poetic images of beauty and nature, and can be quite shocking initially. There is a considerable amount of horror in the story, and a sense that death lies in wait for everyone, only to snatch away life in a moment. Life is as capricious as death.

While the title of the book is Being dead it might as well simply have been "Death", or "Memento mori". A universal theme of all times, in a shocking new conceptalization.

A fascinating read (if you can stomach some of the disgusting details, described with the detail of a dissection).



Other books I have read by Jim Crace:
Signals of distress
Quarantine

146. A good scent from a strange mountain
Finished reading: 16 October 2011



Robert Olen Butler's A good scent from a strange mountain is a short story collection in which the narrator tells stories from different gender perspectives (no problem there), but from the Vietnamese point of view, either set in Vietnam or the United States. I do not know much about the author, but my impression is that this connection and choice of perspective is inappropriate and not very interesting. I even sensed a racist-sexual obsession for the Vietnamese female body.

I love Marguerite Duras and Andre Malraux, French writers who write about Vietnam from their French or French / Indo-Chinese perspective or Graham Greene's The quiet American, which is set in Vietnam, but written entirely from the British perspective. With Olen Butler I had the feeling that the "interest" was suspect, almost unsavory. Americans do not have the same colonial experience, and hence, so it seems, their interest in other nations seems superficial, not as deep and natural.

I found these stories unreal, boring and meaningless.



This was the first book I read by Robert Olen Butler.

147. Our Lady of the Forest
Finished reading: 16 October 2011



I picked up this book because it was a price-reduced hardcover, and I thought I might give this best-seller author a try, and quite a disappointment it was. The story is extremely flimsy, and lacks suspense. It read like a mediocre kind of B-movie, somewhat reminiscent of Dream Catcher, but with unexpectedly strong religious overtones. Is there anywhere the suggestion that the vision is psychedelic? It could be, why else is the main character out in the woods picking mushrooms (of all things)?

Nothing in the story justifies its development into 320+ pages. A real pain to get through.

148. The poetry of everyday life
Finished reading: 17 October 2011



The poetry of everyday life by John Hollander is a volume in the series "Poets on Poetry" published by The University of Michigan Press, collecting critical works by contemporary poets, gathering together the articles, interviews, and book reviews by which they have articulated the poetics of their new generation.

I do not know whether John Hollander is an important poet in the US, or anywhere else. This collection of articles was very disappointing. The title piece The poetry of everyday life is a loosely structured compilation of ideas (it can hardly be called an essay). Hollander falls into the trap of believing that words have their own magic; they may in poetry, but in prose it just doesn't work in the same way. In the introduction he calls this poetic fictions in prose (not, in fact, prose poems, but rather parabolic or otherwise enigmatic narratives). Much of it is just a whole lot of bollocks, as for example this extract from Talking to Our Cats (on page 7):

(...)feline names are never in a true grammatical vocative. Cats never respond to their names per se, as do dogs. Their names are the titles of poetic texts, the names of tropes, into which all of the uncharacterizable life of each particular cat seems to grow. We read the cat as an unfolding book, and our glossing of its invisible expressions is like moralizing a dark pregnant myth. Our discourse is with a fable we have invented, albeit in order to explain one of the most compelling presences, a domestic spirit. Its response to us, and ours to it, are both parts of a parable..

Now, my cat simply comes to me when I call him, as did my dog before. The passage above is just one of many outbursts of flatulence, which make one wonder whether the poet cum sage is humming high on a pillar, stoned or otherwise out of his mind. Naturally, poets have the prerogative to make words, e.g. seemingly incorrect uncharacterizable or twist usage, i.e. I know of stories unfolding, but fail to see how a book could unfold!

In other parts of the book, the reader will often come across that word, tropes. Hollander is apparently very fond of creating bombastic words. In the selected articles consisting of literary criticism, we find "magnificent" adjectives, such as "gothicized", "Spenserizings of the Ovidian fable", "post-Fraserian gothicizing" (in "translating the classics"), "Epicurean position", "anti-Cartesian views" and Aesopian fables (in "translating La Fontaine"), "Whitmanesque incantation" (in "translating the Pessoas (sic!)) and "Tocquevilleian overtones" (in "About Daryl Hine").

The three essays of literary criticism on translation do not seem outstanding in any way. They are rather dreary pieces, as one expects any university professor to be able to to, and possible be forced to churn out, more as a must than as a lust. They are far too specialist for the general reader, and cumbersome to read because of all the (unrendered) French in it. They were obviously written for an entirely different readership.

Altogether, a very uninspiring volume.

149. Crossing the river
Finished reading: 18 October 2011



I could not follow this story. The story is composed of a number of loosely connected parts, spanning several centuries, with more than 130 pages consisting of fragmented diary entries, of which, on the final 100 pages, mostly half page entries listed in unchronological order, jumping to and fro.



This is the first book I have read by Caryl Phillips.

150. Slow man
Finished reading: 19 October 2011



In 2002, J. M. Coetzee moved from South Africa to Australia. In 2003, he worn the Nobel Prize for Literature, obviously on the strength of his oeuvre describing the system of Apartheid in South Africa. It seems to me, that by abandoning South Africa, Coetzee has abandoned his major theme. Almost a decade earlier, Apartheid had been abolished in South Africa, which was followed by the rise of Aids as the most prominent problem, crippling South African society. Apparently, Coetzee's main motive to move was simply his retirement, which left him free to relocate to Aidelaide to join his his partner, there.

Whatever his motives, his new, post-2002 work does not appear to live up to the work which formed the basis for his Nobel Prize. Replacing the commitment to South Africa's political struggle for animal activism in Elisabeth Costello seems a weak gesture, and Slow man is a bland, totally uninspiring story, far removed from his earlier triumphs.

The story is exceedingly simple, and one wonders why it was spun out to 260+ pages. There is nothing of particular interest, or endearing quality. In fact, much of it is very banal. Very disappointing.



Other books I have read by J. M. Coetzee:
Foe
Youth
Stranger shores. Essays, 1986-1999
Boyhood. Scenes from provincial life
The Master of Petersburg
Life and times of Michael K
Elizabeth Costello
Waiting for the Barbarians
Dusklands
Disgrace

Our Lady of the Forest was terrible, wasn't it? I can safely say that even if one of Guterson's books gets rave reviews and wins every prize and best of list, I will still not read it.

I normally shun best sellers, usually a flip through reveals poor writing. Guterson's books, however, have very compelling and attractive titles; I was just sort of lured into buying this book, also because the price was low for such a nice hard cover edition. Now I can just tell myself how correct my initial intuition was.

Hi Edwin, I read Being Dead, Jim Crace last year and thought it a very original novel. He writes very well and I am glad you rated him too. It seems like you have read a few clunkers after that.

>10 baswood:

Yeah, quite unfortunate (those clunkers). As I have said elsewhere, here in China it's hard to come by good books. Actually, many of the very disappointing books are cheap purchases or free pick-ups from expat cafes. But also, books I would try for lack of better, or, as in the case of Coetzee of Caryl Phillips disappointing books by basically good writers.

But, serendipity is also an interesting approach, sometimes to discover forgotten gems among trash. More to come...

151. The moronic inferno, and other visits to America
Finished reading: 20 October 2011



Writers have to make money, and most successful authors will write literary criticism for newspapers, either book reviews or features of other authors and their work, and these occasional pieces are often bundled and published in book form. The degree of interest of these books, basically depends on the personality and style of the writer: the more distance to the object, the less interesting, while writers whose selection of authors and subjects, writing more personally and reflecting on their own work almost as much as on the authors described, will result in more lasting work.

Martin Amis papers collected in The moronic inferno, and other visits to America clearly belongs to the former, and has a very temporary, fleeting feel to it. In the introduction, Amis tries to elevate the book to a higher level, by suggesting that it is a book about America, although he himself refers to selection of occasional journalistic writing as disparate pieces. Of his hundreds of thousands of words (...) written for newspapers and magazines in the last fifteen years, about half of them seem to be about America. The other half could be about French poetry, or Japanese translations, but we know Amis is not that kind of writer. The other half is probably British fiction. The choices do not represent his personal interest in any of these writers in particular. They were "not written for his own satisfaction, but for particular editors of particular journals at particular times and at particular times" (and probably for particular rates). "The hack and the whore," etc....

The title seems a bit suggestive of disdain for his object, but is clearly explained in the preface, as a mere contemplation on the human condition in 1985. (Most of Amis' non-fiction is heavily influenced by the Weltschmerz flowing from the Cold War era.)

Thus, while Amis' collection includes all major American authors, and quite a few minor ones such as Gloria Steinheim, Gay Talese and Joan Didion. Not all pieces are on literature, some are on film. Towards the end, pieces become shorter and more disparate to include one on Steven Spielberg, an odd-out contribution on Aids, and even on Ronald Reagan.

The feel of the collection as a was rather disappointing, out-dated and revealing very little about Martin Amis himself, which could have made it of more lasting interest. I surmise that Amis' openness and honesty about the book is the ultimate "moronic irony" of which he is a master, knowing that most buyers would not read the preface before purchase.



Other books I have read by Martin Amis:
Time's arrow or the nature of the offence
Money
London fields
Success
The information
Experience
Einstein's monsters
Dead babies
Other people. A mystery story
The second plane. September 11, terror and boredom
Koba the Dread. Laughter and the twenty million
House of meetings

152. What becomes
Finished reading: 22 October 2011



A. L. Kennedy has proved to be a difficult author to read. Understanding her work does not come with ease, but laboriously through careful reading and re-reading. Probably not what the average reader is looking for.

Elsewhere, I have reviewed A. L. Kennedy's novel Day, which was published in 2007. A stylistic feature of that novel is the use of unspoken asides, different from stream-of-conciousness, and not part of the narrative, like a kind of interior monologue, but very random and very unfocused, very short and often "unedited", i.e. using pretty rude vernacular. In the novel, these unspoken asides appear in italics throughout the book. In Day the apparent function of these "asides" in italics are to convey the sense of experiencing the world from within, i.e. from inside the mind of Alfred Day, the novel's main character.

What becomes is a collection of short stories, published in 2009. Although their publication follows that of Day (2009), it seems more likely that they were written before or at the same time as the novel. In these stories, the author experiments wildly with the use of italics, to represent, what I would call "side-line content". However, the usage and function of italics in these the stories is not constant, sometimes it seems to represent "interior monologue" (as in "Vanish"), sometimes "stream-of-consciousness" and sometimes, more standard, "for emphasis", to high-light",or simply to denote title, etc. Every possible use of italics is deployed. These stories could best be described as the author's experiment to discover how to use italics in an innovative way in prose, to convey other strands of narrative, or side-line dialogue.

While in Day this new narrative technique works very well, creating a new experience in reading, the scope of the short stories is too short, to make it work successfully. The stories are simply too short, to make this style feature "attractive". In fact, reading many of the stories gave me a literal headache, and there were many stories I did not really grasp the meaning of. In the case of the novel, it is worthwhile to reread and go back, but in short stories that seems less rewarding. In most cases I just read on without really "getting it". There was little motivation to do so, as the themes and plot of most stories is very close to real life descriptions. As with Day, this short story collection would mainly be of interest to the literature major, to study the development of style, A. L. Kennedy's style in particular.



Other books I have read by A. L. Kennedy:
Day

153. Original face
Finished reading: 27 October 2011



Exposure to a foreign culture or nation sometimes inspires authors to write novels or other work situated in the cultural setting of that other culture. Depending on the balance between the original viewpoint, that is the author's original cultural sphere and the represented cultural sphere, a work may be a profound piece of cultural exchange or assimilation, or a tacky, voyeuristic piece of kitsch.

Nicholas Jose lived in China for four years, from 1986 to 1990. While much of his work is heavily influenced by his perception of China in those years, particularly through the impact of the events in 1989 in Beijing, his work shows evidence of later visits and travel to China, and awareness of China's ongoing modernization. At the same time, we surmise that considerable Chinese immigration into Australia, provides the author with further background and experience with Chinese people and culture.

Original face starts off as a type of detective story (and is apparently based on a real murder case). Detective, horror and thriller stories are often the genre of first choice of less-talented writers, because they follow a fixed recipe with standard structure and plot development, etc., so I was a bit apprehensive with the story starting from that point. After the ghastly murder, the beginning of the story, introducing the main character, Lewis Lin is a bit slow and confusing. The way Lewis gets involved in the events, his motivations and actions are all a bit strained an illogical. In a detective story the default main characters are the police, detectives and gangsters, but it would be difficult to position a main character who is neither a cop nor a crook, so this part of the story requires some willingness of the reader to go along with it.

However, once Lewis Lin's position as the main character is established, the novel quickly develops in a very convincing and highly original, gripping story. The characterization of the Chinese characters suffers a little from pastiche of the sort of Hong Kong B-movie gangster type / mixed with a 1980s "Chinese students" characterization, again 1989 featuring prominently, but apart from that the story is well-told and quite interesting. A number of cultural stereotypes are included to convey the sense of the Chinese cultural background of the characters, some of which is kitsch, and some quite true.

The story is packed with action, a sense enhanced by Lewis Lin racing around in his taxi. It is quite apparent that the author has studied or is familiar with Chinese crime in Australia, and after the initial clumsiness, the story becomes quite interesting, and I really enjoyed reading it, as after all it is a 300+ page novel. Like The red thread, which I reviewed elsewhere, the ending with a marriage is rather sweetly-tacky; in fact, much like Chinese people, the author tends towards melo-drama. (As does Shakespeare: marriage means a happy ending, after all).

Despite all these technical things, the novel represents a very readable story, which sheds an original light on Chinese culture abroad, and in an overall sense, quite naturally belongs much more strongly to Australian literature, than Chinoiserie.



Other books I have read by Nicholas Jose:
The red thread

154. The sin eater
Finished reading: 31 October 2011



The afterword (written by Thomas Meagher, whoever that might be) of my Common Reader edition (Akadine Press) of The sin eater is lyrical about the novel and its author, Alice Thomas Ellis, a kind of enthusiasm I do not share.

Many books have been written by British authors, Welsh, English and Scottish, about groups of characters convening in a countryside cottage or house for whatever resolution, and then go their own ways. Any particular wit (I did not notice), any outstanding dialogue or conversation (must have escaped my attention), any brilliancy otherwise, I could not detect.

Apparently, The sin eater which came out in 1977, is Alice Thomas Ellis' debut novel (the author of the afterword describes how he retrieved a copy from an antiquairian book shop), but her style is reminiscent of the 1930s or 1940s. What makes the novel somewhat unusual, perhaps, at least within the realm of British fiction, is its sense of Christian background, often absent from other English literature.

There wasn't anything that attracted me to this novel.

155. Señor Vivo and the Coca Lord
Finished reading: 5 November 2011



After reading The war of Don Emmanuel's nether parts I vowed not to read any of the other volumes of Louis de Bernières's Latin American Trilogy, but as I could pick up Señor Vivo and the Coca Lord for free at an expat cafe, I decided to give it a try.

However, this story is possibly even worse than the first volume in the trilogy. Besides, the novel features some gross violence. Violence is never funny, and any author who tries to prove the contrary is clearly out of bounds. These novels are infantile, and very uninspiring.



Other books I have read by Louis de Bernières:
Corelli's mandolin
Red dog
The war of Don Emmanuel's nether parts
A partisan's daughter

A L Kennedy as you say Edwin is not an easy author to read, but well worth persevering with. I have read Everything You Need which is a bit uneven, but when it works it is very good indeed.

I agree. Difficult to read, not always receiving the highest praise, but enticing, definitely an author I will keep following. Your recommendation and the reviews and conversations on LT strongly suggest that Everything you need would be another book I will want to read.

A busy weekend here. I own a copy of Being Dead, so nice to see your review.

I really liked Being Dead too, and in particular this poem by Sherwin Stephens, "The Biologist's Valediction to His Wife," which is set forth on the frontispiece of the book:

Don't count on Heaven, or on Hell
You're dead. That's it. Adieu. Farewell.
Eternity awaits? Oh, sure!
It's Putrefaction and Manure
And unrelenting Rot, Rot, Rot,
As you regress, from Zoo. to Bot.
I'll grieve, of course,
Departing wife,
Though Grieving's never
Lengthened Life
Or coaxed a single extra Breath
Out of a Body touched by Death

>20 arubabookwoman:

Yes, the poem is very apt.

156. The door
Finished reading: 13 november 2011



I read very little translated literature from countries which are relatively unknown to me, because many books belonging to the literature of such countries is difficult to understand if you are not fully aware of the history and socio-cultural background of these countries. Nonetheless, I was persuaded to buy this book by the Hungarian author Magda Szabó because I had seen a very favourable review, was planning to visit Hungary in 2010 and had already read another novel by her.

Unfortunately, it worked out just as I had feared (of course). The central character, Emerence, is an old woman whose life story stands for the recent history of Hungary. She is an extremely resilient, peculiar and capricious person, the kind of person people would wrinkle their nose at and describe as "a character", in real life. The reader's sympathy for her, at least mine, swung from dislike, to sympathy, and back to strong dislike. The name "Emerence" means "worthy of merit", and that is what she would deserve. However, the reader gradually finds out how she was mangled through Hungarian history. The equilibrium which she had achieved towards the end of her life, the dignity she commands through strict privacy, is eventually ruthlessly destroyed, and the story end with her ultimate humiliation.

The difficulty in understanding the novel, lies in the difficulty of understanding Hungarian life, history and the likelihood of encountering a woman like Emerence.



Other books I have read by Magda Szabó:
1. Moses 22

Edwin, interesting point you make about how not understanding the socio-culture of a country and/or its history can restrict your enjoyment of a novel. I think I agree with you in many instances. The more you understand the more you can relate to a novel has got to be the general rule. A lack of knowledge would not stop me reading a novel, especially if it was recommended, because good writing will always reveal enough enjoyment.

157. Earthsound
Finished reading: 18 November 2011



While some people living in places regularly rocked by earthquakes may give the chance of a quake a fleeting thought every now and then, others living in areas not known to this type of disaster will never give it a thought. Unless they had had some previous experience or knowledge of earthquakes.

The book starts with a fairly innocent episode of Harry Vail falling off a ladder. He cannot imagine how that could have happened, except that the ladder was shook by an earthquake, but dismisses the idea as highly unlikely, as New England is not the kind of place where that would happen. In the following chapters Harry, a former geologist, keeps wondering, as more and more signs seem to point into the direction of that unlikely possibility. However, doubt and disbelief are towering high, and the sense of paranoia spreads as Harry starts wondering about his own sanity. Nonetheless, his persistence leads to the gradual discovery that tension is building up, and that an earthquake is imminent.

This was an enjoyable read, with tension gradually building, while the psychology of overcoming disbelief was an interesting motive. Technical information about Earthquakes and the geology of New England, including some illustrations, included to make the story more believable was not entirely successfully integrated in the story, and merely show the reader that the author has done some research.

The book could be classified as science fiction. In the early chapters, Harry's wife says that Harry thinks of the earth as being alive, an organism. This seems a reference to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's excellent short story When the World Screamed (1928). However, the story does not develop into that direction, and should be much more regarded as a psychological novel, against the background of a likely / unlikely event of an earthquake in New England.

I am surprised only 23 copies of this novel are registered on LT. I thought Arthur Herzog (1927–2010) was a fairly well-known science-fiction author, as I had some interest to obtain The Swarm, but even that book is only owned by 83 people on LT, despite the fact that both of these books were turned into films.

158. The carpet wars
Finished reading: 20 november 2011



The carpet wars by Christopher Kremmer is a hefty volume of some 480 pages. I had started reading the with quite a lot of interest, but gradually got increasingly irritated about the pretense of it.

The book is published with an introduction, acknowledgements, notes (10 pages), bibliography and suggested readings (7 pages), a glossary (5 pages), a timeline (1979-2003) and an index. These features give the book the feel of a very thoroughly documented volume, from which the reader might learn a great deal about "the Islamic heartlands".

It also gives us the feeling that the author or publisher wishes to lift the book up from the level of journalism to background documentation or a more steady nature. However, despite aforementioned props the editor / author has failed to do so. In the introduction, the author says that the largest part of the book was written before 2001, but the reader never finds out when exactly various parts of the book were written. In most publications of this kind, the acknowledgements or in another part of the book the reader may find an overview with thanks to publishers who printed or published earlier versions of articles or reports. Another elegant solution would have been printing a date or year at the top or foot of each section, but this has also been omitted. Meanwhile, the author makes minimal reference to current affairs which might give a clue to the date of the piece, with the exception of his mention that he had been to places before or had met people before up to 20 years earlier. One gradually gets the feeling that these temporal references have been intentionally omitted or removed.

Unfortunately, the respective articles have very little substance (only 10 pages of notes were added). Most of the text consists of the authors adventures, describing people and places in a freely detailed journalistic style, with small embellishments about history and anecdotes, to entertain the reader. A red thread throughout the book is the author's claimed interest in carpets. At times this motive is forced into the text, as in the case of the story of the man who wants to sell just one carpet. It much more seems that the author has inserted this thread as a ploy to connect the different stories, and create a sense of unity. The title remains puzzling, because there are no wars, really, let alone "carpet wars" whatever that might refer to.

The book consists of nine parts, most of which comprising three chapters, introducing Kabul, Kandahar, Peshawar, Baghdad, Tajikistan, Kashmir and Esfahan among other places. But after finishing the book, nothing memorable enough remains, except for descriptions and references to the Taliban's destruction of the Bamiyan Buddhas. But without a distinctive time frame, events or theme, all sections seem very similar, and towards the end of the book one wonders if there is an overarching story to be told at all.



Other books I have read by Christopher Kremmer:
Bamboo Palace. Discovering the lost dynasty of Laos

159. The unknown war. North China 1937-1945
Finished reading: 20 November 2011



In 2003, The Foreign Languages Press (外文出版社) started with the publication of a 50-book series under the general title of "Light on China". All of these books were written in English by foreigners who lived and / or worked in China and witnessed historic moments in Chinese history over the past 150 years. I have never seen a complete overview of the series, and do not know whether all 50 volumes have appeared. While many authors were professional writers and journalists, not all were. Most of these volumes have been published in various foreign countries, but are usually no longer available there, and have a very limited readership. That is a pity, because all books in the series have undiminished value as primary sources, relating first-hand and eye-witness experience of the modern history of China and the People's Republic of China.

The irony of revolutions is, of course, that many revolutionaries of the first hour were in fact middle-class bourgeois students, and many of the foreigners who joined the revolutionary movement in China were either middle- or upper class. For instance, Michael Lindsay the author of this book is otherwise known as Michael Francis Morris Lindsay, 2nd Baron Lindsay of Birker, although he had not yet inherited that title at the time he was in China.

Michael Lindsay came to Beijing in 1937 as a lecturer at newly-founded Yenching University. The book relates, albeit very concisely, parts of the early history of the school, including the person of Dr. J. Leighton Stuart, its president. Shortly after taking up residence in Beijing, the Second World War starts with the invasion of China by the Japanese and the occupation of Beijing. In the Spring of 1938, the author and two other teachers travel to central Hebei where "an interesting organisation was developing" (p.32), later described as the "Central Hopei People's Self Defence Army". At first, crossing from Japanese occupied territory to Chinese held areas was no problem, but later became a clandestine action. In subsequent chapters, the author describes the gradual development of his involvement with the Chinese guarrillas, from repeated trips to and fro Beijing, to their settlement in the guarrilla controlled area. Lindsay makes a considerable contribution to the resistance through his skill of building radios. The book describes the war in China as a personally experienced report, and is richly illustrated by (rather small) B-W photos of the war.Living in the unoccupied territories, Michael Lindsay meets many of the other iconic foreigners who played a part in China's war of resistance and subsequent civil war leading to the revolution in 1949. Besides, the author met many important Chinese revolutionaries, especially between May 1944 and November 1945, when he stayed at the revolutionary base in Yenan.

The book was mostly a rather boring read, as the events are never at the fore-front of historical events, and mostly describes everyday life in backwater areas. Some illustrations are so small, that they are not very clear. Interesting, but rather specialist.

160. Love, etc.
Finished reading:



Love, etc. is apparently a sequal to Talking It Over. The story is told from a multiple perspective, which at first looks like a dialogue, and later takes the form of extended turns. The plot is rather boring, and nothing really happens. It could not hold my attention. Well-written, but uninteresting.

161. Making an elephant. Writing from within
Finished reading: 24 November 2011



To non-native speakers of English, the expression "making an elephant" immediately calls to mind the proverb, which, rendered into English would read "making an elephant out of a fly" from Latin elephantem ex musca facere which means to exaggerate the importance of something trivial.

Although it can hardly have been the author's intention to suggest that meaning, unfortunately that meaning presents itself very persistently while reading this book. It is Graham Swift's first volume of miscellaneous writings, some autobiographical sketches, some literary criticism, some interviews, and 50 poems etc. Although the interviews themselves are quite insignificant, they nonetheless serve to define Graham Swift as a contemporary of writers such as Kazuo Ishiguro, Caryl Phillips and Patrick McGrath.

Many pieces are quite uninteresting, and speak entirely for themselves. Nonetheless, and quite unprecedented, each piece of writing is preceded by an introduction of three to five pages! Utterly superfluous, verily making a mountain of a mollehill.



Other books I have read by Graham Swift:
Waterland
Ever after
Last orders

Good and Interesting reviews as always edwin. Earthsound sounds a good read and perhaps it is not owned by many people because it's science fiction is a bit out of date these days.

162. Les folies françaises
Finished reading: 28 November 2011



This was a very light-weight read, and not particularly interesting. A Frenchman (can't stop thinking of DSK) is visited by his lover who drops his bastard daughter on his door step. The daughter want to be acquainted with French culture, the culture of her father. The book twirls and swirls through French culture at large, with lots of names dropping of all those fantastic poets, painters and composers. Just a little diversion.

This is my first book by Philippe Sollers. I still have 10 on my TBR, so hope the others will be more interesting. (I acquired this one unseen.)

163. Disquiet
Finished reading: 28 November 2011



I had been reading the book by Sollers on and off for weeks, so when I picked up this little book, Disquiet, by the novel author Julia Leigh, it just happened to
be a coincidence that the setting of the story is in a chateau in France. I would not really refer to this story as a "novel", but more like a long "short story". There isn't that much character development or action to warrant it a novel.

Domestic violence is an unusual theme in modern fiction, but unfortunately, this story does not deal with it either. It is the reason why the main character flees her lover and returns to the castle, but it is not part of the drama.

I don't know whether I missed something, some reference to other fiction or some deep psychology (No?), otherwise, this tale seems to be a bit void of meaning. It is certainly well-written, with some memorable scenes (such as the kids hiding in the curtains), and mostly a pleasant read. Nothing to disquiet me, at least.

164. Die gläsernen Ringe. Eine Erzählung
Finished reading: 30 November 2011



This is a wonderful book, especially for lovers of Hermann Hesse. As a matter of fact, Hesse read Die gläsernen Ringe. Eine Erzählung by Luise Rinser and liked it. It was published in 1941.

That year of publication, 1941, is of course very significant. It was published two years before Hesse published his opus magnum Das Glasperlenspiel (1943) in English known as The Glass Bead Game. What is interesting is that the title of the book by Rinser, Die gläsernen Ringe also refers to the water of the fountain in the courtyard of a monastery / convent in terms of "glass" and a certain playful element, which led to some deeper insight.

In the early 1940s Hermann Hesse was a writer in the late days of his career, while Luise Rinser just stood at the beginning of hers. Die gläsernen Ringe was her first book publication. From the middle of the 1930s many German writers turned to writing about pastoral themes, to avoid any trouble with Nazi censorship.

Die gläsernen Ringe tells the story of a girl's youth, the happy time she spent in a countryside village, after her mother takes her there away from the big city. The second part of the book tells about the agony of being a pupil at a Catholic convent all girls school, and her loneliness there, and the happiness and maturation, both physically and spiritually, on visits to the village during school holidays. There are gorgeous and rich descriptions of botany and the kind of pastoral village life, which is now a really bygone era. The book is strongly reminiscent of Hermann Hesse's early work, such as Unterm Rad, in English published as Beneath the Wheel.

After the war, Luise Rinser developed into an important author in Germany, who published many works of fiction and autobiographical non-fiction between 1946 and 1999. However, in most recent criticism, following the publication of her biography in early 2011, she has been accused of being a much greater supporter of the Nazi movement and politics than she admitted or even lied about. Opportunism is the least of accusations.

As with so many authors in different countries, the art of writing cannot be seen separate from the substrate it grows on. Not all writers were able to move to Switzerland. The period from 1933 leading up to 1941 must have been a grim period, with dark clouds blocking the sun, throwing long shadows ahead. Young writers of that period grew up reading Hermann Hesse whose early works dating from the period between 1903 to 1930 were considered to belong to the greatest and most influential of his time. Demian, published in 1919 reached cult status, and like many of his other books inspired young people of that time.

If read out of that political context, Die gläsernen Ringe is a wonderful and serene tale, not as light as the work by Hesse, but with the same grace and attention for detail, Hesse writing about the monastery school of Maulbronn and the rustic village of Calw, and Rinser in Landsberg am Lech in southwest Bavaria.

165. Golden Grove
Finished reading: 3 December 2011



Mary Beth Craft is an American author who lives in New Orleans. Upon retirement as a teacher of French, she turned to writing. Golden Grove is her first novel, as far as I can see.

I am not such a great fan of detective stories, and I believe that is the best way to classify this book. I wasn't expecting much of this book, actually believed I would toss it as vanity publishing, but found myself reading it with considerable interest. Apart from some clunkiness in the writing, some stilted dialogue and some superfluous comments, the novel is, in fact, well-written, and certainly captured me, at least in parts of it.

Somewhere, half-way through the novel, "Golden Grove" is described as a stately, colonial style mansion, built in a grove of elms, on a former slave cemetery, a beautiful image. The building site of the house is the cause of the rumour that it is haunted, a thing the main character's brother had set out for to investigate, for his PhD on haunted houses in Mississippi. Anne Whitehead fears her brother is in trouble and follows his trail to the small community of Blue Valley to search for him. Upon her arrival in bad weather, she has an accident and taken in, and given lodgings on the estate of "Golden Grove". Thus, she finds herself right at the best place to start her investigation, which culminates with a rather sinister discovery.

Golden Grove has an ingenious plot, and, from my non-American point of view, a quite interesting setting. The style was not quite excellent, but clearly strong for a beginning author, although a slight bit too feminine for my personal taste. Where other reviewers elsewhere claim the story is predictable, I did not have that feeling myself, and was quite drawn into the action in the final chapters.

I would not be so interested in her earlier work, such as Would Somebody Hold My Purse While I Preach? (although it might be quite humourous), but would actually be quite interested in her latest book The Maybe Tree, which may prove to be more interesting than Golden Grove.

166. Europe, and other bad news
Finished reading: 3 December 2011



Living as an expat in a "difficult" country such as China, one meets the weirdest people, and meeting new people, one of the first steps is assessing their normalcy, meanwhile gauging how "normal" I am perceived by them (yes, one does wonder whether one is slipping oneself). Now, quite a number of these weird people I happen to know, are great fans of poetry. Some of them stare you in the eye while reciting at length (and I mean really at length) from all sorts of poetry, while others throw poetry parties, where everyone has to show up in a wig, or some other thematic clothing apparel. Needless to say, I wouldn't go to such parties. Actually, I am no longer invited, as the hatred seems mutual.

Anyhow, poetry was spoiled for me in college. I loved reading poetry before going to university, and I hated it when I came out. Worst of all, of course, modern poetry, as I still feel dear about renaissance poets. Also, my dislike is mainly for Dutch, English and German modern poetry, while I can still enjoy French or Spanish poetry, but read very little of any.

I feel, my new interest in poetry is entirely attributable to Club Read 2011, yes folks, you have inspired me! I must admit that I have adopted a slightly different mode of reading, though. I am no longer trying to understand everything, but would rather read 10 poems relatively fast on an evening, and only ponder or rest my attention on the ones that strike a cord. A bit after the fashion of visiting a picture gallery: in my youth I would stand in front of each for the best part of half an hour trying to see everything, while now I walk through the gallery, until my view alights on a painting that either delights or troubles me, sufficiently to catch my attention. I think it is called "a mature way" of reading.

I also have the feeling that that is how Europe, and other bad news by the Canadian poet Irving Layton should be read. Layton (1912–2006) was an incredibly productive, and very successful poet, and I would not say this volume was very balanced. But, as a beginning reader of poetry, I should not criticise the structure or quality of the volume, but rather focus on the poems, perhaps.

The trouble with Europe in this volume, published in 1981, is the author's past, or rather Germany's past, in particular the holocaust. And who will be there to remind young, new readers of that horror, if older poetry is no longer read?

as in: FOR HANS, MAYBE KLAUS OR TADEUSZ

Who clubbed emaciated men to death

Who machine-gunned old men and women

Who all in the day's work
gassed thousands of humans
and afterwards walked thoughtfully home
to wife and children

Who smashed in the skulls of infants

and is now not a little pleased
with himself, having somehow survived
when so many others died
- so many better ones too

And would do it all over again
if only history offered the chance again
and your beastly arthritis
wasn't acting up
or the old pumper thumping so fast. Right?

Of course you would! Because, really,
life was never so dizzying as then.
How full of surprises each day was.
Though the sausages and good wines
have been plentiful, a glory
has departed from the world.
Dullness has come back again.

Let's be up front about this.
For the squashed and depleted
there's no greater happiness
than wiping out another mortal
or humiliating him. Little man,
at last you've made it into history.
In the constellation of human
possibilities, your place is more fixed
than that of Socrates or Christ

From here on you're the reality
by which everything must be weighed
and tested. Haven't you noticed?
Everyone lives as if Auschwitz never happened.

There are lighter, and similar pieces of poetry. Not all refer to the holocaust, but many do, as many of those, while apparently pointing to the past, point to similar events all around us, and, as we all know, to the future.

Not the kind of poetry to read at an expat dinner table, while all are looking stupid in a wig and a bra. Spoiling the fun, it would.

167. Jonas ou l'artiste au travail, suivi de "La pierre qui pousse"
Finished reading: 5 December 2011



Two rather uninteresting stories, the first of which Jonas ou l'artiste au travail has appeared in English translation as The Artist at Work and seems to be as much about "writer's block" as anything else.

168. The inheritance of loss
Finished reading: 7 December 2011



I was very interested to read this book, and was not disappointed by the opening, which seemed very promising, about a brutal assault and robbery of a retiree living a secluded life in the mountains and jungle of northern India. Unfortunately, the story does not bind together, and falls apart into uninteresting, loose strands. I lost track, and interest, and was glad I had the book behind me.

169. Longitude. The true story of a lone genius who solved the greatest problem of his time
Finished reading: 8 December 2011



This was a wonderful read. So many books are nowadays published as 500-plus tomes, while most could elegantly be written in less than half of that. Thus, Dava Sobel tells us all we might want to know about the problem of longitude, and John Harrison, the man who solved it through his hard, and ingenious labour, in an account that captures the spirit of the 18th century, and the machinations and corruption that nearly prevented the honourable Harrison from receiving the reward and praise that are his due. The story highlights the incredible craftsmanship and persistence that we associate with some other great explorers of that time, and which now seems to have disappeared.

Very well-written, never burdened by heavy citations or references, this popular account is a pleasurable read for everyone.

170. Sweet land stories
Finished reading: 12 December 2011



I picked up this volume of short stories, hoping to read more about American life in smaller towns or even the countryside, but that did not entirely work out. True, these are stories about people in places all over the US, and not always in the big cities. But the title, Sweet land stories, should not be taken literally. It's use is ironic, hinting at some of the grotesk characters appearing in these stories. The stories did not interest me much, and some, like "Baby Wilson" even quite irritated me. Perhaps the most interesting was "Walter John Harmon" about a religious community, and how the spiritual leader elopes with the wife of one of the congregation. While reading, I wondered whether the baby, in the last story "Child, dead, in the rose garden" could be the "Baby Wilson" of that other story, but I wasn't very interested to reread and figure out.



Other books I have read by E.L. Doctorow:
The waterworks

171. Trouble with lichen
Finished reading: 12 December 2011



It seemed a bit far-fetched to me to suggest that a saucer of milk could have "turned" during a thundery night, but that event is the starting point of the story, as both Francis Saxover and Diana Brackley, the two main characters in Trouble with lichen spot the part of the milk which hasn't spoilt, and independently, make the link and discovery of the properties of a sample of lichen which caused the preservation of the milk. This leads to each of them developing a serum with anti-aging properties, which Francis applies to himself and his children, while Diana opens a spa and treats women with it. Both Francis and Diana, knowing that the lichen is in short supply, try to keep their find a secret. However, it becomes known after one of Diana's clients developed an allergy. The chaos that Francis and Diana had predicted really starts taking shape as evil and envy work their way into securing the recipe.

The story itself is not very interesting, but forms a nice vehicle to explore the unrelenting selfishness of people which could plunge society into chaos. The novel only explores the possibility and onset of that situation, without developing that theme. First published in 1960, the language seems a bit more outdated, while still characteristic of John Wyndham's other work. Altogether an interesting read.



Other books I have read by John Wyndham:
The day of the Triffids
The kraken wakes

172. Annie Dunne
Finished reading: 14 December 2011



Having read The secret scripture I had hoped for another, grand sweeping novel. Or even a rustic tale of Ireland would have suited me, but Annie Dunne by Sebastian Barry turned out to be a very boring story, peopled by uninspiring characters, and no plot to speak of. Well-written, but very disappointing.



Other books I have read by Sebastian Barry:
The secret scripture

173. The thousand autumns of Jacob de Zoet
Finished reading: 16 December 2011



Amid quite a few mediocre and disappointing readings, I was happy to get started on this great novel, The thousand autumns of Jacob de Zoet, by David Mitchell. Oddly, Dutch people in general do not know very much, at least not in detail, of the history of Dejima and the Dutch influence on Japan. While reading this novel, especially the last part, I looked up various things and was astounded by the scope of Dutch influence through "Dutch studies" on Japanese modernization.

The thousand autumns of Jacob de Zoet is a novel on a grand scale, which never tires reading. Both the Japanese story line and the Dutch-British skirmish story line are joined in an elegant and convincing manner.

The story of the Dutch-British skirmish is based on a true historical event, but displaced in history by about five years. Mitchell has picked up this story and turned in into a wonderful book. Dutch authors have not written about this story, which Mitchell uses so well to illustrate the decline of the Dutch empire, the ascent of the British empire and the Japanese caught in the middle, realizing the imminent need for their steps on the path of modernization, which would lead Japan away from the feudalistic society to a modern nation, as the first in Asia, and develop its own imperialistic plans.



This was the first novel I have read by David Mitchell.

174. Illness as metaphor
Finished reading: 18 December 2011



Illness as metaphor is a long essay by Susan Sontag about the way we write and think about TB and cancer. The essay is extremely well-researched, citing many instances of the use of these two diseases in metaphorical sense. With references to earlier diseases and epidemics, such as the Plague, Sontag argues that the way we talk about cancer can be explained by reviewing the way people used to talk about TB, before its mystery was solved. Once the mystery, viz. its cause, is discovered, fear dissipates and the disease is brought back to human proportions. Cancer, the cause of which is still unknown, is still largely seen as a great enemy, shrouded in mystery. The comparison and description works very well on the level of the disease and its effect on people, but the final section, section 9, is much less successful. In this section Sontag tries to stretch the metaphor to express the state of the social order or politics. This section seems much less well researched, and quite ineffective.

175. AIDS and its metaphors
Finished reading: 18 December 2011



Written ten years after Illness as metaphor, AIDS and its metaphors explores the same question is largely the same way, using the same methodology. However, the result is not the same. Section one is a capitulation of the earlier essay, so the essay about
AIDS and its metaphors doesn't really start until section two.

While Susan Sontag was a cancer patient herself, her writing about AIDS would not be as engaged. However, a bigger problem is that in 1988, very little was understood about AIDS, even less than about cancer when Sontag wrote about it. As a result, she mainly refers to AIDS, and spends little time on HIV. Writing about TB and cancer in Illness as metaphor, the author could cite sources going back to the Middle Ages, but in 1988, very few literary works, fiction or non-fiction, were published, and supposedly her analysis is largely based on the language use in the media. The author does give any moment's though to the idea that that media might be influenced by her own earlier publication. AIDS and its metaphors lacks the thoroughness and inquisitiveness of Illness as metaphor. In the former, the author seems to be almost dogmatic, whereas in the original work the essay was largely explorative.

176. Illness as metaphor & AIDS and its metaphors
Finished reading: 18 December 2011



Illness as metaphor & AIDS and its metaphors were re-issued together in the omnibus edition as Penguin Modern Classic.

Illness as metaphor is a long essay by Susan Sontag about the way we write and think about TB and cancer. The essay is extremely well-researched, citing many instances of the use of these two diseases in metaphorical sense. With references to earlier diseases and epidemics, such as the Plague, Sontag argues that the way we talk about cancer can be explained by reviewing the way people used to talk about TB, before its mystery was solved. Once the mystery, viz. its cause, is discovered, fear dissipates and the disease is brought back to human proportions. Cancer, the cause of which is still unknown, is still largely seen as a great enemy, shrouded in mystery. The comparison and description works very well on the level of the disease and its effect on people, but the final section, section 9, is much less successful. In this section Sontag tries to stretch the metaphor to express the state of the social order or politics. This section seems much less well researched, and quite ineffective.

Written ten years after Illness as metaphor, AIDS and its metaphors explores the same question is largely the same way, using the same methodology. However, the result is not the same. Section one is a capitulation of the earlier essay, so the essay about
AIDS and its metaphors doesn't really start until section two.

While Susan Sontag was a cancer patient herself, her writing about AIDS would not be as engaged. However, a bigger problem is that in 1988, very little was understood about AIDS, even less than about cancer when Sontag wrote about it. As a result, she mainly refers to AIDS, and spends little time on HIV. Writing about TB and cancer in Illness as metaphor, the author could cite sources going back to the Middle Ages, but in 1988, very few literary works, fiction or non-fiction, were published, and supposedly her analysis is largely based on the language use in the media. The author does give any moment's though to the idea that that media might be influenced by her own earlier publication. AIDS and its metaphors lacks the thoroughness and inquisitiveness of Illness as metaphor. In the former, the author seems to be almost dogmatic, whereas in the original work the essay was largely explorative.

That was all. 176 works is not a bad count for 2011.

I am very happy I joined Club 2011. I feared writing the reviews would clog me down. I did not always have time to catch up, but feel writing the reviews motivated me more, and made Club Read 2011 a very rewarding experience.

Club Read 2011 has made me read more, and inspired me to read a number of authors, I did not know before. The reading of those new works will be next year, in Club Read 2012.

In addition to that, members at Club Read 2011 have inspired me to go back to reading poetry. I read parts of Childe Harold and finished reading a volume of poetry. I haven't read that much poetry in more than 20 years!

Thanks everyone, and Happy New Year. See you in Club 2012!

I enjoyed reading your finally reviews of the year and look forward to seeing what you read next year. Your comments on the poetry gatherings were quite funny.

The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Sort was one of the best books I read last year and I enjoyed seeing what a Dutch reader thought.

A lot of reviews to catch up with here edwin.

Your comments on reading poetry on Europe, and other bad news are very interesting. I am not sure I could be quite so cavalier as to read a bunch of poems and then only go back to those that grabbed my intention in some way. I would be worried that I was missing something important. I would go with you halfway though as I no longer spend a great deal of time trying to tease out the meaning of a poem unless I feel its worth it or I like the author for some reason.

Looking at painting is a different experience for me and I will quite happily stand in front of a painting for a long time trying to 'see' it.

Glad you enjoyed A Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet especially with your Dutch perspective. I thought it was a great novel and one to re-read in a couple of years time.

I have also been interested by your reviews of the essays by Susan Sontag. A woman with a lot to say and always worth reading.

Happy new Year to you and I look forward to catching up with you on club read 2012

Terrific reviews. After reading so many, your wonderful review of Rinser and that insane poem by Irving Layton stand out to me. Glad to know your reading more poetry.

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