Posts
All Comments
The first three books are taken from http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/books+tone/reviews
The Spare Room by Helen Garner
Writer Helen has a spare room, and her old friend, bohemian single woman Nicola, has cancer and comes to stay to undergo treatment at a deeply suspect alternative healing centre. But there is nothing simple about what follows. For Helen could not have predicted how difficult she finds the three weeks as Nicola's full-time carer, "afraid of her weakness, afraid of her will", overwhelmed by anger at Nicola's belief in her quack doctors and complete denial that "death is at the end of this". It is a complex examination of the limits of friendship and of the problems of remaining a single woman into middle age. For Nicola "had taught herself to live alone", and now, dying, has no one to turn to but old acquaintances. This is a superbly clever novel, in which death looms large, while the narrative and the narrator exist in a vital present: cancer is a fact of life, not an ending.
Whates's first collection gathers 18 tales spanning the genres from fantasy to soft science fiction, ghost story to space opera. The variety is only one of the pleasures on offer; others are the fully rounded, if not always likable, characters, and Whates's knack for taking stories in unexpected directions. A good example is "The Gift of Joy", which starts quietly enough with a conventional client-prostitute pick-up scenario, but rapidly becomes something more alarming. In "One Night in London", Kyle is a cyber-augmented courier faced with a stark choice that might alter Britain's political destiny, and what could have been mere action-noir becomes an effective study of character. This may not be cutting-edge SF, but it is satisfying, well observed and entertaining.
Pandora in the Congo by Albert Sanchez Pinol
Albert Sánchez Piñol's second novel sees him take the traditional Victorian adventure story, in this case a Jules Verne-esque romp, and interpret it through the prism of post-colonialism. The book begins in light-hearted vein as the narrator, Thomas Thomson, finds himself becoming a junior ghostwriter for a pulp storyteller, but soon moves into more disturbing territory when Thomson is approached to write the tale of Marcus Garvey, a young servant compelled to go on a dangerous journey into the Congo. Free of the sometimes stilted quality that dogs translated novels, this is simultaneously a gripping yarn and a genre-bending re-examination of the fiction of a bygone age.
The next two from http://www.nytimes.com/pages/books/index.html
Sag Harbour by Colson WhiteheadEndpoint and Other Poems by John Updike
The lawn’s begun to green. Beyond the Bay —
where I have watched, these twenty years, dim ships
ply the horizon, feeding oil to Boston,
and blinking lights descend, night after night,
to land unseen at Logan — low land implies
a sprawl of other lives, beneath torn clouds.
In his early verse, Updike could be boastful about his sexual prowess. Here, at the 11th hour, he is more regretful about his overmastering, though obviously masterful, early lust.
I drank up women’s tears and spat them out
as 10-point Janson, Roman and ital.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poetry books are so hard to find. Can someone direct me to some poetry book review sites?
Do you use bookmarks or just grab whatever is handy to mark your page? Do you collect lots of different bookmarks or do you have a favorite one that you use exclusively? If you're not someone who uses bookmarks on a regular basis, have you ever used anything odd to mark your place?
Ill-treating, a book, any book is kind of sacrilege for me. It does not matter whose book is it. I do not dog-ear books. I do use book marks. Mostly which are available in the bookstores. In my younger years, I even made a few bookmarks which still are huge hit with my family and friends.
My brother got me a leather bookmark long time back. I use it often. I also have a sandalwood carved bookmark. It leaves a pleasant smell if I use it. My mom gave me a silver one too. I seldom use it. I am scared of losing that. I won't say I collect bookmarks, though.
As I carry books, there is always a bookmark within that book. In the rare ocassion, I use paper napkins, loose change, hair clips, my mobile phone or anything I can lay me hands on. But dog-earing? No way!
His name was Jones. At least thats what I called him.
Title: The Noticer
Author: Andy Andrews
ISBN: 9780785229216
Publishers: Thomas Nelson?2009
Pages: 156
Just when everything appears bleak, unendurable, an old man appears out nowhere, befriends people, puts them at their ease and talks to them. He is simply names Jones and says that he is a noticer. He can see beyond the obvious. For him , it is not we have that is important, it our perspective of those which is important. Jones has much wisdom to offer. According to him, our perspectives on things can help us cope with old age, failed marriages, losing loved ones and an unsure future. According to him, we are right where we are supposed to be. We must see the broader picture, the bigger things and not have a narrow minded approach.
Jones way of dealing with problems is very refreshing. As he professes, we can all be noticers if we let go of ourselves.
Many of the life's question can't always be answered but we can cope with those if we let our mind open a bit more and think postively. Negativism only makes other get away from us. Hope should kept alive in any situation, however bleak, dark it might be.
Most of us have a Jones in our lives. We just know how to find him or seek him. Maybe we do have one within us. We only need to seek him.
I don't read self help books. It's not that I don't have problems in my life. Somehow the very word self-help puts me off. However this book tackles many of the lifes problem in a a better perspective. One can learn from that. If you do want to learn how to look at things, and change your perception, this book is for you.
Let me tell you about the time your grandfather took a sledgehammer to the car.
Title: Breathing Out the Ghost
Author: Kirk Curnutt
ISBN: 9781579660703
Publisher: River City/2007
Pages: 329
Book Blurb:
Colin St. Claire is on a dangerous mission. His young son is missing, and he is on a self-appointed quest to find the boy, or at least find the man he believes is responsible. Fueled by uppers and a profound lack of sleep, Colin’s road soon becomes an uncontrollable spiral of blurry white lines, of fleeting forms in the night, ghosts of memory as intangible as vapor . . . Assisting him is Robert Heim, a former private investigator who lost his license in the line of duty—and it is a sense of warped duty that still ties him to Colin, though his own family, a loving wife and children, beckons him back home . . . The answers for both men may lie not with the man they believe is the perpetrator, but with a long-suffering farmer’s wife, Beverly “Sis” Pruitt, whose own daughter was claimed by violence, years prior.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Curnutt has taken up a very difficult issue, that of the parents of a missing child. One of the worst nightmares any parent can face. Not knowing if the child is dead or alive and the hope that he/she is. Living with that day after day is one uphill task. Everyone expects that the parents ought to move on and get on with their lives. Is it easy? Curnutt has kept his characters the way they are. No explanations, no apologies but what they are. Has there to be any reason for what we are? Curnutt shows us no reason is needed. Colin St. Clair, Heim, Dickie, the pedophile, Sis, whose daughter has been murdered, don't need props or anything.
Answers are not easy to find. But Curnut is not on that mission to provide us answers. He has written a novel about the thoughts of a father with a missing son, a mother whose daughter has been murdered, and a private invesigator who just has to go along and Dickie, the pedophile. Their connection to each other and their single minded pursuits. Does it converge anywhere. Most important, does it have to?
With complex characters and the novel moving from one character to the other, totally keeps us riveted. Curnutt's prose too helps, with its poetic way of writing. A novel, which is powerful, hard hitting, profound, disturbing, brutally frank, deeply moving and intelligent. Not an easy novel but why should any book need to be easy?
I especially liked the following:
"There aren't any laws governing grief except the law of certain obliteration." Thoughts of Colin St. Clair
" What kind of man would leave his wife to go on a wild goose chase -- and what kind of woman wouldn't go with him."
These are the thoughts of Sis, whose daughter has been murdered.
Some people move on leaving behind the past, some can't. It is as simple or as complex as that. Who are we to judge?
In India, everyday Children go missing, mostly from poor families. Believe it or not, the police does not seem to care unless the child is from an affluent class.
I rate it: 5/5.
Also reviewed by:
She is too fond of books
Chartroose
Caribousmom
Wondrous Words Wednesday is a weekly meme hosted by Kathy at Bermudaonion, where we post about the unfamiliar words we have encountered in our reading the past week.Sweet Voices
Those voices are the sweeter which have fallen
forever silent, mournfully
resounding only in the heart that sorrows.
In dreams the melancholic voices come,
timorous and humble,
and bring before our feeble memory
the precious dead, whom the cold cold earth
conceals; for whom the mirthful
daybreak never shines, nor springtimes blossom.
Melodious voices sigh; and in the soul
our life’s first poetry
sounds — like music, in the night, that’s far away.
Function:
I thank all of you who stopped by to leave encouraging comments here. And all those who have linked, following and subscribed to this blog.
It made me feel loved, wanted and also the thought that I am not alone. I am yet to make rounds to all your blogs. I will do that soon.
I started this new blog and retrieved many of my reviews. However, today I feel lost, depressed and totally down. You can call it delayed shock. I realised I lost my page ranking, ratings and linkings. It had taken me three years to build that. How do I get this blog at par? It seems like an impossible task.
Today, finally I wallow in self pity. Yes, I will come out of it. I always do. But I need time.
They had always been haunted, those hills. The place where the dead walk. But by the time Leo Krauss arrived with his parents and gape-eyed siblings in 1909 (travelling from the stinking though venerable port of Odessa by polluted steamer to Montreal and then west by train and west by cart and west on mules and, finally, when the mules lay wasted in the dust, west on foot across a land searing under the heat of a prairie sun), the ghosts that had once walked the hills had vanished, or were, at least, imperceptible to those already burdened by the past of another country. Now, it was life the newcomers travelled toward, not death. A big clean dome of pure sky. Infinite, unfettered space. A new start. Death was behind them; here, a life could be resurrected.
Title: The Horseman's Daughter
Author: Jacqueline Baker
ISBN: 9780002008365
Publisher: Harpercollins/2007
Pages: 432
The first paragraph sets the pace of this novel set in Saskatchewan-Alberta border, where German immigrants came in the late 1800s setting up farming communities.
The Schoff family and the Krauss family are two such families who are neighbours. Stolanus and Helen Schoff are a hard-working family who live with their son, who has scars due to wagon accident and a farm hand, Lathias, who life is somehow connected with the boy. Next door to them lives Leo Krauss, who is taken to be lazy and foul and is considered the town pariah living along with his step-daughter Elisabeth, a beautiful girl, somewhat wild and reclusive. A friendship develops between Elizabeth, the Shoff boy (who doesn't seem to have a name) and the farm hand, Lathias . All three, in some way or the other are misfits and thus are drawn together. Their unusual friendship affects the community in such a way that it has a profound effect on all.
One day, Elizabeth falls into the icy river and is taken for dead. The Schoff boy is the only one who winessed it. And most believe that he might have pushed her in. From there the story takes a turn. People's lives are affected by the land, community, myths, beliefs and so much more.
Is Leo as bad as he made out to be? Is Elizabeth the sweet girl everyone thinks she is? How is Lathias connected to the schoff family? Why does the land become so important for the people?
"All good first sentences have a kind of energy, wrote Slater Brown in his yellow Notebok as he was being pedaled erratically down Market Street." 
Title: Going to See the Elephant
Author: Rodes Fishburne
ISBN: 9780385342391
Publisher: Delacorte Press/2009
Pages: 293
Twenty-five year old Slater Brown land up in San Francisco one fine day. He wants to be one of the greatest writer ever. He has arrived to SEE THE ELEPHANT. Soon after he realises that the reality is much different from his dreams and aspirations. He is financially streamlined.
Hence he takes up a job at a weekly newspaper known as Morning Trumpet. Suddenly fate changes for everyone. He is somehow able to find scoops each week which helps in the circulation of Morning Trumpet. He becomes one sought after reporter. But everything has a turn around. The corrupt Mayor is after him and also an insane inventor Milo Magnet, who wishes to harness the weather with catastrophic effects.
It is interesting to note the way Slater finds scoops. It is almost unbelievable. When Slater is down and out, the reader sympathises with him and also feels elated when he finds his way around. Fishburne has shown San Ffrancisco with all its quirks. It is extremely redeeming to see a very ordinary person like Slater surving there despite its warts. He accepts the city as it is. Slater thinks he finds love in the form of Callio de Quincy who is as weird as the city. Maybe one Slater is going to be one of the greatest writer there was. Who knows?!
Fishburne did a goob job with the book. It is an easy, fun read. Smart, witty and I must say, it has a great title. GO SEE THE ELEPHANT, folks. You won't be disappointed.
James Lincoln Tasker thought he'd understood Judge O'Herlihy when he'd said "hanged by the neck until you are dead, dead, dead." He just had no idea that the last part was going to take so long. Yet here he was, still swinging at the end of a hangman's noose in the shadow of the courthouse and not even feeling sleepy.
I read Let Him Dangle by Richard Dickson online. It is a very short story in or around 500 words.
James has been left to die after having hanged but he does not die in a hurry. He is shown to converse with the sheriff. He wants to die quickly but is left dangling.
The sheriff turned towards him, and Tasker wished he hadn't. Maggots crawled in hollow eyes, and a grin like a whip stretched his pale skin tightly over the hard lines of the skull beneath. Flies burst from his mouth along with a harsh, piercing laugh.
"Oh, I think you just got your damnation," he cackled, and vanished. The town shimmered away along with the sheriff, and only the squat, grunting shapes approaching over the bleak, sun-baked plain remained to hear the screams that would be James Lincoln Tasker's song for eternity.
He gets his wish but in what manner?
After a long time two boys are playing near an old Oak tree, its branches all gnarled and one branch hanging out.
And Michael could have sworn he heard it scream.
This short story is power-packed , taut and fast paced. But how else a 500 words story would be? I am glad I found this site.
