On A Pre Tale From Hoffman Leading To Another Chat About Male Readers/Female Writers And their Covers And A Brief Return Of The Slight Hypocrite

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So this was the latest library book I've read.

The Rules Of Magic - Alice Hoffman

This novel is about three siblings, two women and a man growing up in America during the sixties each with supernatural abilities. As regular readers to this blog will know I try my best to put a story to it's barest essence as to not spoil the plot for new readers. So I'll say this. It takes a certain skill for a writer to produce an adult novel which combines believable reality with, well.... magic. And Ms Hoffman definitely has that magic touch.

It's a prequel to her novel Practical Magic. Now rather like in the Game Of Thrones book I chatted about a while back I don't like prequels, given that you may not know the route but you know the destination. But as I've not read Practical Magic I was in the advantage of treating The Rules Of Magic as Book One. If you've not read Practical Magic before I'd suggest you'd follow that as well. For I will be looking forward to reading that in the future.

The Rules Of Magic is a novel everyone can read and enjoy...I did and I'm a fifty four year old man.

And I say this because as regular readers will know I enjoy trying to read most books in my local library. An impossible task I know but a bit of fun but if it wasn't for that innocent but admittedly mad predilection of mine I wouldn't have borrowed this book. For as I've said before I believe that one of the reasons a lot of men read few books my female writers is that their covers put them off. I know that judging on the cover alone I would have avoided this.

Let's have another look at the cover again.

Not A Magic Cover

That is not the cover that would entrance a man. It suggests women's romantic fiction. But it gets worse. The blurb speaks of the family that "their love will be their undoing". To a man reading it this suggests some soppy sentimentality. But trust me this novel is anything but soppy.

Worst though are the quotes used to (deservedly) praise this book. On the front cover is a quote from The Times (Fair enough) but on the back are quotes from Jodi Picoult and Marie Claire....Marie Claire!!! It's like a female reader picking up a book and seeing a favourable quote from Playboy.

So I say this again. Despite the cover this is a book men can read and enjoy.

When I started this blog seemingly a long time ago I outed myself as a slight hypocrite as although I said I didn't understand people who read plays for their personal pleasure only to realise that I have some as part of my collection of vintage Penguin paperbacks.

Well.....

I downloaded Uncle Vanya by Anton Chekhov onto my Kindle. Partly because it was free, but mainly because I wanted to see whether my view of Chekhov as a short story writer (I didn't dislike him but don't understand why he's considered great. A view I call Literary Switzerland) would change on reading Chekhov the playwright.

It didn't.

No magic there.

Until the next time.

It Might Have Been International Women's Day But Fathers And Sons Is Better Than Wives And Daughters...And Other Books

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today,

Well have been reading a few books since we last chatted. So let's start with a biography of Robert Burns by John Sharp. If this book was a meal I'd describe it as edible but nothing more. I'm sure there are better bios to use your time on instead.

You may remember a few posts back that I chatted about Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell and that I didn't like it. Well in the random way I pick books to read the next book turned out to be Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev (and it was random....honest!).

Whilst not perfect I enjoyed it. On the one hand you get the sons, with their youthful hopes,ideals cynicism, and disdain for their elders. Also properly discovering for the first time the mystery that are women. On the other there are the fathers. Men you feel are dissatisfied. The feeling that as their best years have passed them by they haven't yet found a certain peace within themselves.

There is more of the sons than the fathers, and as now I belong to the former I would have rather seen it the other way. Still of the books I'm chatting about today this was the best in my view.

The Angel of Terror by Edgar Wallace is one of those books that's perfectly acceptable as long as your brain is cruising in first gear. That said, Erle Stanley Gardner is better.

To be clear with regard to my criticisms of other Wallace thrillers it didn't strike me as racist and regard to sexist whilst the heroine has moments of dimness where she needs the help of men the cleverest villain is a woman. So I suppose that is some sort of equality.

Beowulf then. No one knows who wrote this epic poem but I think we can hazard a guess that it was a man, Indeed I'll go further by saying that it was not the sort of man who would wander lonely as a cloud and chat about daffodils either.

At the risk of being beheaded by the ghost of some Viking warlord what it didn't do is become one of those exceptions to my disregard of poetry. Ditto The Dalby Bear and Other Ballads by George Borrow.This time though I think this was my fault as I downloaded writers mentioned by Robert Macfarlane in his book Tracks ( W H Hudson was another) but in my eagerness to download everything I disregarded the fact that this is a ballad so probably better appreciated with music. I'll give George a pass.

Regular readers will know that there are certain writers that I describe as literary Switzerland in that whilst I don't dislike them I don't understand why they're considered great either. Anton Chekhov falls into this category and taken as a whole The Schoolmistress and Other Stories does not change anything.

There are exceptions. The title story (which is the best of the collection) and a few others make you sit up and take notice. But for the most part I just shrugged and moved on to the next tale.

In another tick off the literary bucket list the book I'm reading now is The Old Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens. Can't say I'm happy with the portrayal of the villain but I'll chat about that when I've finished.

Until the next time.

Have I Been Persuaded By Jane Austen? Well....

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So picture the scene. I'm at the rented apartment from doing the afternoon/evening shift at work. Daughter is on her tablet. Wife, who moans when daughter or me are online, is on the laptop playing Mahjong.

I go to my normal returning from work routine. Ask loved ones how they are (incidentally never argue when you've just returned to work late at night. Your brain....well my brain anyway...is not up to it). Go to the toilet (TMI? Sorry). Change my clothes, contact my mother in Essex and ping a microwave meal (I've boiled it down to two. Beef Lasagne or Spaghetti Bolognese

And what then? It's about eleven pm. I have to stay up for about an hour before going to bed to rest my wide stomach. So what do I do? Normally I'd watch something on YouTube or Netflix and nod off on the sofa, or listen to a downloaded programme on the BBC radio iplayer and nod off. But not this day, Saturday. For my Kindle has told me that I've only half an hour left of Persuasion to read and I'm going to finish it come what may.

This task then, the reading equivalent of having a walk after dinner (it's after eleven at night I'm not walking out), is completed. From never reading Austen I've now read two of her novels in a short space of time. Things and indeed me have certainly changed recently.

Having said that, and mentally registering your round of applause, regular readers of this blog will remember my rather ambivalent view of Emma. That I did not dislike it but didn't feel as if I was reading great literature either. Thus Jane Austen was part of that group of writers such as  F Scott Fitzgerald and Anton Chekhov that I was literary Switzerland towards.

Now I have read two Austens I must be to the majority of the male population a freak. A male not in the artistic or educational worlds who has read two Austens?! Clearly to most men that and the fact I wear glasses must make me an expert on the subject.

So let me start by saying this. I much preferred Persuasion to Emma. It is a book with less of the Austen clichés. Less dances,less indeed a dance of manners.

Perhaps more importantly however it has a character (which I'm not going to spoil  by revealing here though obviously you can surmise it's a woman) that the reader can root for. Whilst there was no one I actually hated in Emma, it did thinking retrospectively lack that emotional hook.

And that central character is believable as well. There is no way that Gwnyeth Paltrow could justifiably played her without being laughed at all the way to the goop. Out of curiosity after I read the book I checked who played this person in the 1995 film adaptation. She seemed exactly the right fit to my imaginary picture.

But.....

The other thing that I've realised having read two of her books now is that Jane Austen characters rarely go beyond second gear emotionally. No throws of passion or spasms of anger. To me as a reader this seems irritating and unrealistic.

Still, what do I know....being a boy. (an old one admittedly) ?

So Jane Austen stays for me in a state of literary Switzerland. Which as I've said before is more difficult to explain than disliking her because if you're neutral towards a writer there's more chance that you've missed something (you dislike a writer them there are weapons you have to explain why).

Now to the next book which turns out to be David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. It's been a while since I've read any Dickens ( so many books so little time) so I'm looking forward to reading it.

Now tying up the loose ends I've also finished The Golden Rules of Blogging (& When To Break Them) by Robin Houghton. To be honest all it taught me is that if your blog is not a business then the best rule is simply trial and error. Adhere to the "rules" and you will just miss the fun of creating and running it.

Until the next time.

More Chopin, Arguing With Len And I'm With Team Fyodor

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So it appears that yet again I begin this blog the day after a terrorist atrocity. Yet again the world turns digitally medieval. Yet again for what it's worth my sympathies goes out to the injured and dead in these London attacks (bar three). But yet again I say this. No one should change their lives for fear. For fear would mean that the terrorists will win. I intend to go out to Cardiff Bay today. Am not going to alter my plans. Not at all.

So I will continue in this blog to chat on the books I've read yesterday. Terrorists remember don't like people who read avidly. They don't like books outside of their own sphere. And when we're talking about Islamic terrorists they wouldn't like Kate Chopin. She is first a woman, then a woman with a voice of her own and a woman who would not have believed that her place is in the home serving a man.

The Awakenings and other stories have now been finished. As I explained yesterday this has come as an unexpected surprise. The stories were a fascinating read. They were all best described as a slow burn. You wonder what's going on in the beginning and then you find yourself being drawn into the tale she's telling. Will look forward to reading her again.

Kindle do a series called Kindle Singles. Short fiction/non fiction on various subjects. When I first bought it one of these ebooks I bought was James Bond : My Long And Eventful Search For His Father. Essentially this was focusing on the battle which eventually involved in the (for want of a better word) "rebel" James Bond film Never Say Never Again.

Before this book I've read three Len Deighton novels. The Ipcress File, SS-GB and XPD. In all cases I had the same view. If Len and Deighton were an ice dance couple then they would score largely on the technical but not as well on artistic impression. His characters leave me cold. As I remember reading James Bond as a teenager Ian Fleming was much better in engaging your emotions. And of course nobody does the crime novel better than John Le Carre.

This book doesn't change my view of him one iota. It was rubbish. It's biggest problem was that it was just too short. It needed a lot more detail. Also his conclusion at the very end is just useless. I won't tell you what it is but let's just say that it doesn't matter what TV/Film does to change an iconic character (eg Sherlock Holmes, Dracula, Inspector Morse) it's parent is the author who created it in the first place.

The novel I'm currently reading is House Of The Dead by Fyodor Dostoevsky published in 1860. It reminded me of why I'm with Team Fyodor and not Team Chekov. You find yourself interested in the people and their lives in the Siberian prison camp they're living in. With Dostoevsky I find myself wanting to go on rather than swiping the page at a sense of reader duty.

Until the next time.

On Enjoying Italian Crime with Camilleri, Shruggable Neutrality on Chekhov and A Little Bit Of Chopin

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Have finished The Montalbano Mysteries by Andrea Camilleri . An omnibus of the first three novels of the eponymous Sicilian detective. Well I loved it. Everything you'd want from a crime genre is here. A hero you'd root for, a sense of place, characters well drawn, a good plot. I finished the book wishing that I was a brilliant Italian detective with a love of food living near the coast who could take a swim everyday should he wish it.

And the thing about this omnibus was....I didn't get to feel it was an omnibus. There was no sense of a hard slog. I just moved from one novel to the next with ease and was only disappointed when they were all finished. Don't know when I'll next get round to reading a Camilleri novel but I do know I'll be looking forward to it.

Which is more than I can say for Anton Chekhov.

You may remember sometime back I suggested that for some writers a reader can be in literary Switzerland. In that he (or she) didn't dislike a writer but at the same time could not understand the mantle of greatness that is thrust upon them. The main author I used for this was F Scott Fitzgerald but I included Chekhov in this as well.

Having now read The Duel And Other Stories I now realise that my views on Chekhov are slightly different. I'm still neutral but I finished each story thinking "Is that all there is"?

NOTHING MUCH HAPPENS. And even when it does it seems to resolve itself quickly and for the most part quietly enough. Leaving aside the duel of the main story the only real action seems to involve people flouncing off or acting in a turn of the century huff at something or another....and that's just the men.

So clearly I just don't understand why he gets the high literary reputation that he has. There are two conclusions to this. The first is that I'm the bookish equivalent of the little boy pointing out that king has no clothes. Suddenly I'm viewed as the most perceptive reader ever. Fame at last.

The second is more simple. That I'm an idiot who has not grasped the nuances of the Russian master. Either is possible.

Which leads me to the third book I'm reading now The Awakening and other stories by Kate Chopin. When I started to read the title story was thinking "This is like Chekhov. Nothing much is happening". But what Chopin does is to lead you slowly through the issues faced by the main character. This is interesting stuff. I think the phrase is "a slow burn". Must admit am impressed.

Until the next time.

How Thomas Hardy Beat Bryan Adams

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I've oftened felt that where I differ from a lot of people is not in my likes or dislikes but in those things I'm neutral about. I've chatted before in this blog about the problems of being literary Switzerland regarding F Scott Fitzgerald, Anton Chekov and Jane Austen. But I can expand that further, the almost religious love for Star Wars is something that's passed me by, entertaining that it is. And as for The Simpsons? Clever, funny to an extent but not something I'm bothered about recording.

Musically speaking I realised that Canadian soft/hard/easy to chew over rock person Bryan Adams comes into my Swiss roll of neutrality. People seemed to like him or hate him. For me it was but a shrug.

Yesterday however he was challenging my reading.

I was working the afternoon/evening shift at work so the morning was free. And there was to be honest nothing to do. So I decided to spend the time reading.

Our friend whose house we're living in decided however decided that the morning was going to be spent cleaning the house and that she would listen to music to entertain her as she did so specifically the work of Bryan (and for the record I did offer to help but she turned that politely down - when you have a system someone else is a distraction).

Now let me stress something before I go on. Our friend has very kindly opened the doors of her home for us whilst we're purchasing our next one. Her house her rules. It was up to me to deal with it and adapt.

So I sat down and continued reading The Mayor Of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy. Would I be put off from the novel by the Adams Family of tunes he's produced? Well you can guess from the title that I couldn't stop the thing I started.

The Mayor of Casterbridge is truly masterful. Slowly but surely Hardy maps out how a man, capable of emotional cruelty but rather flawed than evil, faces the consequences of his actions. All the characters are well rounded and multifacted. There are no simple heroes and villains in this novel.

Needless to say I was swiping the page oblivious to the life's work of Bryan. He didn't stand a chance. It might have been the 1812 overture and I wouldn't have noticed.

At their best books can do that.

After I finished that the next book was Summer In The City State by Eamonn Sheehy. An account of his time in Morocco. It was finished quickly. To be honest it was just an essay than a book and it was just too short. Really needed to have been longer.

And now the book is an omnibus edition of three crime Inspector Montalbano novels from Andrea Camilleri. Already I've finished one, The Shape Of Water and now am The Terracotta Dog. I finished the day at eleven pm pretending that I was the good inspector by eating spaghetti whilst reading in Bari. Even though the spag bol was frozen and I was in Barry. Ah well.

It was a good day for reading.

Until the next time.

On Books And Wandering Along Barry Road

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Winter In Madrid by C J Sansom is a novel praised by The Guardian, The Times and The Daily Express (a publication that describes itself as "the world's greatest newspaper".....only in a parallel universe). So let's make this clear that my view is not it appears the main body of opinion of this book. But there you go.

It has been described as a "spy novel". Presumably to distinguish itself from the thriller genre. Thrills being severely lacking here as indeed is "Spy" in "Spy novel". There is a spy element set up in the beginning but then it seems to be almost forgotten until half way. Also a plot twist so obvious that it might well as been wrapped in neon. So let me make this clear. If you're considering this book for the spying part don't. You'll be very disappointed.

So what's left seems to be a checklist of things I feel I've read before. War weary central character, menage a trios, foreign location (fascist but neutral Spain in the second world war). All done better (Graham Greene came to mind - there's a Harry Lime character here as well). All in all all very unsatisfactory. There is nothing worse for the reader than the serious piece that fails.

The next book which I finished was Confessions of a Beachcomber by E J Banfield (published 1906). Not as racy a book as the title would suggest. Also more technical about the natural world of the Australian coast than I'd expected, but that's my problem not Banfield's. However mainly towards the end it was also racist in the sort of treat people with a skin darker than yours as you would a pet dog. Not a book I'll read again.

So now I'm going through The Mayor Of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy. So far, so good. At least there's a book where I seem to agree with popular opinion.

I haven't yet had the opportunity to wander round Barry Town as I've hoped. Things just cropped up to make his impossible. The closest was on Sunday when I wandered ten to fifteen minutes along the Barry Road, off where I'm living at the moment. Hardly great explorations of our time I know, but when you're new to an area you can find interest in what's new, until you become part of the area when it all becomes mundane.

So let's start when I'm about to leave the street. An ordinary terraced road when suddenly I notice something along the pavement....a horse.

I call to the wife "There's a horse being ridden along the pavement!"

Wife tells me to shut up. "People will think you're insulting the area".

I disagree. There's a difference between insulting an area and saying "There's a horse being ridden along the pavement"

As I entered the road turned left and noticed as the journey developed noticed that further up the hill I went the type of house changed. Up the hill meant that the houses became semi detached and to my memory some were detached as well.

Starting my journey saw a café that did an all day breakfast. The sort of thing that would give you a free ticket to heart attack city if you ate it regularly but occasionally...? Must admit I'm tempted.

Passed Jenner Park Primary school which seemed to be built in a Victorian style (the bricks appeared new).I like this style. Nowadays schools seem to be built like office blocks.

Found a new and easier way to get to Jenner Park, home of Barry Town FC than I was told. Shame the season's finished. There was a game being played that day but was too busy to enquire about it.

The Park Of Jenner

I saw this a few minutes afterwards.

I didn't realise that you could include TY (house) and NEWYDD (new) as one word. After enquiring about this on Twitter it was suggested to me that it was named after a coal mining village in the Rhondda and that Barry was the port it was shipped from. I've no idea but just putting it out there.

There was a convenience store towards the end of the road. The local headlines were about a teenager who tried to commit a robbery using a fake gun and a chip shop burnt down due to an overnight fire. You might think a thousand and one jokes seem appropriate here, but livelihoods has literally gone in flames.

Opposite the store there was this chain pub restaurant.

Wonder if anyone talks Anton Chekhov here.....probably not

Later Wife/daughter and I went to have dinner here. Lighting was a bit dark. As if designed by the Addams Family. But could not fault the food or service at all.

As we walked back there was something heartbreaking. Put on a lamppost was a smiling picture of a child with some flowers and a printed note saying "We will remember" on it. Sometimes even words are not enough.....

There is a view from the road. Here it is.

Not the Rhondda. Still a good view

Hopefully on Wednesday will be able to wander round the town called Barry itself.

Until the next time.

In Which I Chat About Jane Austen,Rugby, RLS' Wife, Houses And The Disappearance Of Barry Town FC

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I woke up on Saturday, unwillingly you understand, at quarter to four in the morning. And after making a cup of tea did what I tend to do often now. Read. so Emma by Jane Austen was finished.

Speaking as I can now do,with the vast experience of having reading one of her novels, is that Jane Austen moves in with F Scott Fitzgerald and Anton Chekhov as a writer with whom I'm in literary Switzerland about. She is certainly readable. But I don't understand how she can be considered "great".

As I explained previously being neutral on a writer is a difficult position to be in. If only because not disliking one means that you can't shake off the feeling that you might be missing something. What I especially don't understand is why she's stood the test of time especially when compared to writers like the Brontes or George Eliot. But then again what do I know being a man?

The next book on the great ebook unread was Rugby Union Basics For Dummies in a day by Nick Cain and Greg Growden. It was free and to be honest after reading it was probably the best thing about it. I learnt very little about a sport whose rules I've only gleaned through osmosis. Anyway it was finished. Two books done in a day.

Did you know that Robert Louis Stevenson's wife was American? I didn't. But it's the first thing I've learnt in the latest book I'm reading The Life of Mrs Robert Louis Stevenson by his wife's sister Nellie Van De Grift Sanchez. So far so good.

On the house searching front went to see two today. Both seem genuine contenders. Wife and I are going to spend the weekend thinking this one through. We might offer on Monday. More then.

After that was done we went to see a friend who lives in Barry. She and the wife I knew would spend the afternoon chatting about the houses we've seen and the general moving situation. Knew I'd be bored.What to do?

But then a solution occurred to me. Our friend lived near Jenner Park, home of the Welsh league side Barry Town FC. As there were no more houses to watch I'd get daughter to go online, check and if they were playing at home and go off to the game.

This was done. The internet was clear. Barry Town FC would be playing Goytre United FC at two thirty. I'd be a little late, but I'd not been able to watch football for a while so it would give me a little break from everything that's swirling my beleaguered brain with regard to moving house and finding one to live in.

It wouldn't have been the first time I've been to Jenner Park. When I was courting my wife and I did crosscountry courting with my wife between South Wales and Essex (A real Gavin Stacey moment) her uncle (even more Gavin/Stacey like), a good man now sadly passed away took me to a match there between Barry Town and Flint Town FC.

I'd learnt two things from that game. One that Welsh football went far beyond Cardiff,Swansea Wrexham and Newport and the other was that Flint Town taught me that dependent on exactly where you are the North Walian accent could have a trace of Scouse on it.

As I was closer to the ground heard no sounds of a match or saw supporters moving in. Noticed ticket offices being boarded up, Eventually from a small gap I'd noticed....no football...indeed not even passing birds on the pitch. As I said on my return to our friends' house wherever Barry Town were playing it was not Jenner Park.

Further investigations by daughter revealed the phrase "venue to be decided" on the internet. I found out later that they'd played Goytre United at Goytre's ground. The opposite fixture will be next Saturday, useless to me as I'll be working.

Ah well...

Until the next time,

Listening To Abridged Books In The Bath......As You Do.

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Regular readers to this blog (and thank you for that) will know of my love for baths over showers. You also might remember that as I'm cleansing my Adonis like body (the only alternative fact in this post) I like listening to programmes downloaded on the BBC radio iplayer. You might even recall that this scenario was mentioned because I was attacking the writer Julian Barnes for not understanding the nature of supporting a football team.

Well been starting to listen in the bath to abridged books that were broadcast across the week on BBC Radio 4 and 4 Extra in roughly thirteen minute chunks, using each programme as a sort of literary stopwatch. When each episode begins I'm in the bath and when it finishes I Adonisly get out of it.

I'm not sure whether if it wasn't for the combination of the BBC radio iplayer and the bath I would've been listening to abridged books. But there we are. Opposites attract.

Recently I've been listening to Age Of Anger by Pankaj Mishra which quite brilliantly dissects the swirl of nationalism affecting the world today. Currently I'm going through Death of the Poets by Michael Symmons Roberts and Paul Farley which explores the notion of "the doomed poet" and is fascinating even for me, someone whose poetry reading experience is limited.

But (and there is always a but), you'd have noticed that these abridged books are non fiction as most my downloads are. There is a reason for that. With abridged non fiction whilst you know you're not getting everything there is still the feeling that something has been gained. With fiction however, be it an emotion, a descriptive passage or even the possible disappearance of a minor character that feeling for me is that something, possibly important, is missing. And so the experience leaves me unsatisfied.

(Of course when talking about fiction here I'm referring to the novel. Short stories are obviously different. I've downloaded the first in a series of Anton Chekhov tales read by Alistair McGowan. To be honest of the stories I've read Chekhov is a writer I'm very Switzerland towards and am wondering whether listening to them will make any difference)

You may ask why I don't go the whole hog and get an audiobook of an entire novel? Two reasons. Firstly they are surprisingly expensive. If you didn't want to be tied into buying at least one a month (and I don't) an audiobook seems to cost about the same price as a TV series boxset for reasons that I don't understand.

But secondly what these abridgements provide is a way to ease my brain into the day as I'm making myself clean. They act like a first cup of tea to my mind. Why change something that works?

So thank you BBC Radio 4/4Extra till we meet again in the bathroom tomorrow....no peeking mind.

Until the next time.