by ELG Gray

Life of Pi

Page turner: 7/10
Heart tugger: 5/10
Thought provoker: 7/10
Overall: 4 stars

The Life of Pi is a coming of age shipwreck story, about religion and zoology. What more can you ask for?

Yann Martel’s mind must work in such a different way. I suppose that is what creativity is. But the very fact that he managed to construct a story where an Indian boy can be Muslim, Hindu, and Christian (because he ‘just wants to love God’) grows up, literally, in a zoo and gets shipwrecked with a tiger (probably) tipped this book to a four from a 3 plus. That’s quite a lot to fit in. And he does so with aplomb.

What’s interesting to me about the Life of Pi is that I read it for the first time probably about 10 years ago and managed to remember so little of it. I usually can recall most of the major themes of a book, and with this one all I remembered was the shipwreck and the tiger. There’s Quite a lot more to it than that – so I do wonder why my brain didn’t retain them the first time ’round. Maybe I was too overwhelmed by the different themes? I have to say that I definitely enjoyed it more this time than my memory of it a decade ago. I *like* that a boy manages to be three religions. I choose to interpret that move in a way that pokes fun at the institution of religion (rather than the spirit behind it), which appeals to me. But there are enough religious overtures in the book that I also see there is room for different interpretation, and for controversy.

I liked the Life of Pi because I like the story. And the fact that really it is a story for the sake of a story, makes it all the more appealing. I’ll ruin then end if I explain that further, but if you’ve read it you will know what I mean. Which I quite appreciate. There are times when Martel pushes implausibility to become ridiculous, but I can still forgive it. There are a few needless points of view, and I found that I never got particularly upset at any of the more tragic turns of events – which is a bit surprising.

Still, I very much recommend Life of Pi as being something totally different, interesting, fun, and full of animal-life. It’s a grown-up bedtime story.

02.05.14

by ELG Gray

True History of the Kelly Gang

Page turner: 5/10
Heart tugger: 6/10
Thought provoker: 6/10
Overall: 3 stars

The trouble with the True History of the Kelly Gang was that I got bored. I didn’t mean to get bored, but I did. I still Liked it, but I just felt like I sort-of-got-the-point-and-you-know-how-it-ends-anyway so, why bother? Perhaps I would have been more gripped if I knew the core elements of his real life in advance (I didn’t) and thus wasn’t spending so much energy trying to keep track of the characters comings-and-goings. There are a lot of them. But even then, I’m not sure.

As I have since discovered in my historical research – Ned Kelly and the Kelly Gang were Australian outlaws primarily active in the 1870s outback. The book is about Ned, his childhood, and (surprisingly briefly) his gang and its exploits as an adult. The book actually really picks back up in the ending chapter where accounts of his gang’s daring dos really get told.

Ned Kelly in 1880

It’s a clever idea, and the structure of the book is quite nice. As a reader, chapters are bunched into manuscripts, that are clearly Ned’s own scribblings of his life on whatever paper he has to hand. In the end, it becomes clear how these documents have been gathered, grouped, and published for the sake of posterity. Neat. I liked it.

Peter Carey does a wonderful job of making Ned a consistent, likeable, pleasant Outback murderer/Robin Hood type character. I liked Ned.

And yet, somehow, after whizzing through the first half of the book or so, I really did get bored. I felt I ‘got’ Ned – what made him tick – and somehow that early revelation made me much less interested in following him and what happened next. The ‘traps’ (police) are all corrupt. You want your own land. You are oppressed. Pride and honor are of the utmost importance to you. As are horses. Check check check check check. Now get on to your exciting burglaries, get-aways, tell us about your suits of armour! Explain to me more about your ending! Tell me what I always wanted to know!

There is very much a good story in the ‘untold truths’ of the Kelly Gang as clearly the man, myth, legend has a great deal going for it. And I did like this attempt. I suppose the trouble is that I keep having to remind myself of that. It was something a bit different, and certainly worthwhile.

Maybe some Aussies can open my eyes, more, to questions that WERE answered in this book that had I been less ignorant of the principle stories of the Kelly Gang before I started I would have found more exciting and compelling?

12.12.13

by ELG Gray

Vernon God Little

Page turner: 4/10
Heart tugger: 3/10
Thought provoker: 6/10
Overall: 2 stars

I got frustrated and read the last chapter of Vernon God Little when I was about half way through the book.

I got a serious telling off at work: ‘…who *does* that!?’

But I just couldn’t help it! What at first seems edgy and full of well-deployed vernacular just gets tedious. Everything everything is ‘fucken’ this and ‘fucken that’ and ‘up your asshole’ ‘shit shit shit’. Vernon, the teenage boy whose story you read, also has something of a bum/butt/ass/anal obsession going on. The book is a satire on the worst parts of American culture; so anything ‘obsessive’ is understandable in the characters, but I have my limits of understanding. So, I wanted to know if the story was really going to go anywhere, or if it would be an annoying, whiny, book. The good news was that I actually liked the ending. It’s sharp.

Having read the pretty good ending, I read the few chapters before that. They were alright. Shed a lot of light on the plot and in so doing, also were a lot more fluid that the jilted curse-word-narrated style of the rest of the book. As it happens, the book is about a high-school shooting in Texas. The teenage Vernon is the childhood friend of the murder (indelicately named Jesus), and is heavily implicated as a second shooter in the massacre. The book features homophobia, xenophobia, obesity, reality TV, gun ownership, and the death penalty for minors. And it is set in Texas. And of course his mother is a weirdo.

In the end, I did read the book. Just a bit see-saw like. At the end of it I do respect Pierre for ‘going for the jugular’ and for managing to tell a story with such harsh language. But I really just felt it lacked finesse, which to me, is what a satire should really be able to say is its forte. The story is simultaneously out-there and predictable; to the point where it became nearly impossible to empathize. And, given the subject matter, for all of the occasionally humorous quips – it wasn’t fun.

I can see potential in a daring author, but I’m not sure the execution (pardon the pun – but I can’t resist) worked this time.

12.01.13

by ELG Gray

Offshore

Page turner: 6/10
Heart tugger: 5/10
Thought provoker: 6/10
Overall: 3 stars (but on the low side of 3)

I liked Offshore, which won the Man Booker prize in 1979. I was tickled by the tendency of the characters to refer to each other by the names of their boats; and particularly pleased by the character, Maurice, who changed the name of his boat to Maurice in response to this.

The book is about a small group of people who live in house boats at Battersea Reach on the Thames, London in the early 1960s. Quite pleasingly, I coincidentally discovered that the modern-day bus route 319 passes has a stop at Cheyne Walk, right where the characters are traipsing about.

The characters are, to say the least, an eclectic bunch. The best two, by far, are the 11 and 6-year-old daughters of Nenna, the abandoned wife. They are both feral and precocious, which is an improbable and impressive combo.

The trouble is, I just didn’t quite ‘buy’ any of the characters. They were a bit too … out there. Some of their inner monologues are clever and convincing, but as a set, I just never quite got Into the book. I never saw myself amongst them. And so, in spite of the fact I actually KNOW where the book takes place, I kept getting tangled in location, time, and events. Which is actually a bit embarrassing given that nothing particularly unusual or exciting happens. Yes, one of the characters is a male prostitute, but the author, Penelope Fitzgerald, steers clear of any sordid details. So the characters – apparently doing deep-and-meaningful things – to me just seemed to be bopping about.

As it is an award-winning book over a certain age, my edition of the book has an introduction. I usually try not to read them until after I’ve reviewed, so that I’m not unduly influenced. But this time I did, and I am going to borrow the term ‘tragi-farce’, which describes the tone of the book well. It’s dark, but not depressing. It would make an excellent Christopher Guest film.

*Anything* after 17 days of Ulysses would be a pleasure, but on reflection while I liked Offshore (and enjoyed my personal connection to it), I would think it was average overall. And the ending was thoroughly unsatisfying (again, fab for a movie, but…)

10.23.13

by ELG Gray

Midnight’s Children

Page turner: 2/10
Heart tugger: 4/10
Thought provoker: 8/10
Overall: 2 stars

My copy of Midnight’s Children is 647 pages long. I know this, not because I finished reading the book only a few minutes ago, but because I have checked how many pages I have to go probably about 447 times (I didn’t check the first 100 – that’d be rude, and I could do the math quite easily the last 100). This book was long. And it was a chore.

Now before I rant overly much about the hard-slog-reading-that-is-the-first-two-thirds-of-this-book I would like to conduct a bit of a thought experiment that I learned whilst reading Daniel Kahneman’s book ‘Thinking Fast and Slow’. I think (hope?) Salman Rushdie would approve. The true experiment isn’t exactly possible, but hopefully you’ll get the idea. I am going to describe this book in 6 words. First, three positive words. Then, three negative words. Then I’ll do it the other way ’round. Using the same six words. Bear with.

Positive: magical, intelligent, organic
Negative: dense, meandering, self-important

Now, think for a second about what impression this leads you with. Now try to forget the words.

Ok.

Negative: dense, meandering, self-important
Positive: magical, intelligent, organic

Think again about what impression this description leaves you with.

In his book, Kahneman is using a similar experiment show how humans are effected by first impressions. It is meant to do a great deal more than describe novels, but hopefully I can use the device to demonstrate how I feel about this book, resulting in a confusing mix of ambiguity and frustration. Which, to be fair, is probably what Rushdie was going for.

In the positive-first scenario I go away thinking that Midnight’s Children is a book of magical realism, a splendidly original and creative piece of fiction that brilliantly characterizes the birth and trials of India as a nation, that happens to be a bit self-indulgent and long-winded. And, upon reading this description, I don’t disagree. The way in which Rushdie manages to tie the life of Saleem (the protagonist) inextricably from that of his country – from the moment of his birth through his first 31 years – is intellectually fascinating. And worthy of a place in the top 100 books of the 20th century. (It come’s 90th)

In the negative-first scenario I get the impression that a windy-but-intelligent author has a good idea, but it. He’s intentionally perverse. And a bit mad. My gosh does he use a lot of ellipses … It does … I think … get to be a bit much. And I know I am occasionally one to get carried away with punctuation and capitalization. And why the need to recap so often through the book? And isn’t the part in the jungle just a bit much? And it astounds me how a book can manage to be Both meandering AND dense. That is a literary feat fit only for as much sarcasm as I can muster. And, as I pause to re-read this description I also agree with myself. I didn’t like the book. There are lots of others that I think I would give awards and plaudits to, instead.

I both liked and didn’t like this book. My ratings err on the ‘didn’t like’ side as a word of caution. It took me nearly three weeks (including two inter-continental flights!) to read this book. It would normally take me days. But I do feel good for (finally!!) having read it.

The front cover of my copy has a quote by the Sunday Times that describes Midnight’s Children as ‘vital’. Whilst my personal taste would disagree with the connotation of necessity, I very much agree with the idea of this book having vitality. (If you can make it through the first quarter of the book – during which the main character and narrator hasn’t even told of his own birth.) There is humanity in this book. And it is an utterly original idea.

Finally, this book features on both the Modern Library and Man Booker prize lists. Which means, it was recognized in its day and retrospectively – which is impressive. And I can understand that it is of historical significance, and for the ‘positive scenario’ described above. I can understand, but not personally Agree with it purely because I found it to be quite so unreadable. It’s a book I am proud to have read, but wouldn’t particularly advise you to read!