I'm amazed at how huge this book has become since I translated it. I won't flatter myself and believe that my translation had anything to do with its...moreI'm amazed at how huge this book has become since I translated it. I won't flatter myself and believe that my translation had anything to do with its success (I know Oprah Winfrey had more to do with that), but I will say it's nice to have worked on so hugely successful a book, and not just because my royalty check will be massive this year. It's just nice to have your stuff read.
As for the book itself, it's chick lit. More specifically, it's intelligent, New-York-style chick lit aimed at women who are looking for themselves and their purpose in life. It's rather like Sex and the City, only with sex substituted with spirituality and with New York substituted with Italy, India and Indonesia. If that description doesn't appeal to you, the book itself probably won't, either.
In a nutshell, Eat, Pray, Love is about the author herself, a well-educated New Yorker who goes through a nasty divorce and decides that the best way to get over it is to go travelling. So she takes a year off from work to visit Italy, India and Indonesia, where, refreshingly, she decides not to do any touristy stuff. Rather than provide the reader with descriptions of the Colosseum or the Taj Mahal, she seeks to find herself against the backdrop of certain things the countries she is visiting happen to be good at: enjoying oneself (Italy), getting in touch with God (India) and finding a kind of balance in one's life (Indonesia). So she spends four months in Italian restaurants stuffing herself and putting on weight, four months in an Indian ashram meditating and trying to find a union with God, and four months in Indonesia falling in love and being happy, and then she writes about it all with great candour and flashes of wit.
Parts of Eat, Pray, Love are excellent. The people Gilbert meets on her way are fairly interesting and her anecdotes about them and transcripts of their dialogues frequently make for entertaining reading. Her love for the places she is visiting shines through loud and clear, and her descriptions of Italian food are so mouth-watering that I felt like hopping on the first plane to Italy after finishing the book, just to get some of the food she describes. Sadly, however, the tone of the book is rather self-indulgent. Gilbert is a likeable, intelligent woman with a pleasant, self-deprecating writing style, but she does frequently come across as self-absorbed. Obviously, a certain amount of self-absorption is only to be expected from an author who states the purpose of her journey as being 'self-discovery', but even so Gilbert sometimes overdoes the navel-gazing (even by New York standards), to the point where you find yourself wishing she would describe the Colosseum and the Taj Mahal instead. And if that weren't bad enough, she also takes great pride in being a very devoted and spiritual person, and goes on and on about her devotion and spirituality. I consider myself a fairly open-minded person when it comes to faith and religion, and I'm actually quite interested in yoga and meditation, but even so I found many of the ashram chapters a bit over the top. They're interesting and fairly well written, but as far as I'm concerned, they go on for too long and don't really fit into the rest of the book. After the Indian chapters, the much freer and chattier Indonesia section feels like a breath of fresh air.
So do I like the book? Yes, I do. I have enough in common with the author to identify with her, and travelling stories will always appeal to me, especially if they're as enthusiastic as these are. I just wish there had been slightly more travelling and slightly less devotion.
I'd give the book three and a half stars if I could, but in the absence of half stars, I'm going to be miserly and round it down to three. (less)
Elizabeth Gilbert's Pilgrims (first published in 1997) has come in for a fair bit of criticism on Goodreads -- mainly, I think, because it is so diffe...moreElizabeth Gilbert's Pilgrims (first published in 1997) has come in for a fair bit of criticism on Goodreads -- mainly, I think, because it is so different from her humongous bestseller Eat, Pray, Love. I get the impression many readers go into this collection of short stories expecting it to be a re-tread of themes discussed in Eat, Pray, Love, only to be fiercely disappointed and unforgiving when they find out it isn't. It's a pity many readers can't judge the book on its own merits, for Pilgrims is an accomplished collection of short stories. In my opinion, it showcases Elizabeth Gilbert's gifts as a writer better than does Eat, Pray, Love, but I guess it doesn't contain enough soul-searching and navel-gazing for the average fan of that book.
The twelve stories contained in Pilgrims are refreshingly diverse and unsentimental. They are set all over the USA, and feature a wide range of characters: directionless fifteen-year-old boys, brilliant and less brilliant magicians, brassy cowgirls, shy artists, incestuous bar owners, punch-happy protective older brothers, overambitious porters, pretentious students who like to pretend they're British aristocrats, and so on. The situations in which Gilbert puts these characters are equally diverse, but they do have a few things in common. For one thing, many stories revolve around characters learning important things about themselves, frequently finding things they did not even know they were looking for. For another thing, they all share a certain sympathy and compassion. No matter how silly or downright stupid some of Gilbert's characters are, the author never stoops to judge them, treating them instead with a tolerance that borders on respect. I like that, just like I like the fact that Gilbert never feels compelled to tell her characters' whole histories. The twelve stories in Pilgrims are not miniature novels; instead they are slices of life that start in medias res and end there. They capture a moment in time rather than a story, and as far as I'm concerned, they capture it well -- no need for more background or closure.
The best thing about Pilgrims is Elizabeth Gilbert's fabulous ear for dialogue. Readers familiar with Eat, Pray, Love will know that Gilbert excels at writing lively and witty dialogue. In Pilgrims she does an even better job of it, sketching complete (and again, very diverse) characters by means of short, frequently absurd exchanges. Many of her dialogues are quirky as hell, but they suit the characters and situations so well that they always feel genuine and right. As a beginning novelist, I quite envy Gilbert for the ease with which she gives all her characters a voice of their own, but I digress...
As I was saying, Pilgrims may not appeal to the millions of navel-gazing self-seekers who ate up Eat, Pray, Love, but those who like original and unsentimental slices of life with good characterisation and vivid dialogue should appreciate it a lot. I know I did! (less)
An American film director goes to Antwerp, Belgium, to make a low-budget biopic about the Belgian surrealist painter Paul Delvaux. While he is shootin...moreAn American film director goes to Antwerp, Belgium, to make a low-budget biopic about the Belgian surrealist painter Paul Delvaux. While he is shooting his film, two of his extras (both prostitutes) go missing. A few days later their lifeless bodies turn up accompanied by video tapes of two obscure Belgian films. Meanwhile, a British film critic is in town to interview the American director, only to get sucked into the hunt for the murderer when his own girlfriend goes missing.
That, in a nutshell, is the story of Antwerp, one of the more interesting books I've had the pleasure of translating. As you might guess from the above, it's a thriller, but not a thriller as you know it. What with its references to high art and obscure movies and its conscious juxtaposition of life and art, it's considerably more pretentious than the average thriller. In fact, it's decidedly high-brow, even if the setting (a large chunk of the book is set in Antwerp's red-light district) is anything but. Furthermore, the writing is rather more literary than most thrillers'. Royle's style really suits the subject; it's arty and expressive and frequently quite filmic. He does a great job capturing the seedy atmosphere of Antwerp's underbelly; the book oozes nostalgia, faded glory, emptiness and moral degeneration. Needless to say, there are plenty of references to Marc Dutroux, Belgium's most infamous paedophile/murderer, who is emblematic for all that is wrong in Belgian society.
In addition to the mood stuff, Royle comes up with some nifty story-telling devices. For one thing, he ably mixes fact and fiction, using historical figures as well as made-up ones. For another, he adds several chapters written from the murderer's point of view, but in order not to give away the murderer's identity, they are written in the second person -- an unusual narrative technique, but it works. Finally, he leaves quite a few questions unanswered. Personally, I loved that aspect of the book, but those who like straightforward tales with a clear ending had better give it a wide berth, as had people who can't take a bit of seediness.(less)
A kind of Kitchen Confidential of the hotel industry, Hotel Babylon describes 24 hours in the life of a receptionist on a double shift at a five-star...moreA kind of Kitchen Confidential of the hotel industry, Hotel Babylon describes 24 hours in the life of a receptionist on a double shift at a five-star hotel in London -- 24 hours during which he gets to deal with Saudi sheikhs, Texan oil millionaires, dying customers and call girls who don't want to leave their plush surroundings, and also finds time to gossip about Naomi Campbell, Cher, Kate Moss, Pamela Anderson and Michael Jackson (among others). While all the stories in the book are purportedly true, and many of them are quite entertaining in themselves, there are a few too many stories crammed into the space of 24 hours here for the book to be either believable or really readable. I myself got fairly fed up with it after a while, wanting a real, straightforward narrative rather than a series of loosely joined episodes. That said, if you don't mind the episodic structure, this is an interesting, reasonably well written look behind the scenes of the luxury hotel industry -- an enjoyable holiday read for those who like celebrity culture and five-star excapism.(less)
The Emperor's Children is supposed to be a twenty-first-century take on Edith Wharton and Henry James, which is to say a New York-based comedy of mann...moreThe Emperor's Children is supposed to be a twenty-first-century take on Edith Wharton and Henry James, which is to say a New York-based comedy of manners with a hefty dose of Woody Allen-style neuroticism and some 9/11 stuff thrown in for good measure. For my part, I found it an intelligent soap opera, excellent in some respects but frustrating in others. I certainly didn't mind reading it, but I much prefer the real James and Wharton.
The Emperor's Children tells the story of Murray Thwaite (a former journalist turned literary giant), his beautiful and spoilt daughter Marina, her much tougher friend Danielle (with whom Murray is having an affair), their gay and promiscuous friend Julius and Marina's cousin Bootie, who idolises his famous uncle and would do anything to follow in his footsteps. Like all good protagonists, these characters yearn for romance, but more importantly, they crave recognition. They want success and they're not getting it, so they're disillusioned and frustrated. They're also very intelligent and self-obsessed, which means they spend a large chunk of the book navel-gazing. Messud's descriptions of her characters' inner selves are sharp and detailed, as are her observations on the vapid circles in which they move. Sadly, however, her characters are nearly identical; they all seem to have the same voice, which is fine at first but begins to grate after a while. Furthermore, the navel-gazing rather takes over at times, meaning the plot takes a long time to advance. Finally, and most damaging as far as I'm concerned, Messud has a tendency to use really long, convoluted sentences and to interrupt herself mid-sentence, going off on long tangents before returning to the original sentence, which is of course long forgotten by then. I found it hard to translate these sentences and almost equally hard to read them. Still, Messud is undeniably a gifted writer, and the picture she paints of New York's glitterati is fascinating if you can deal with all the navel-gazing. (less)
An End to Suffering is an ambitious book -- a valiant attempt to introduce the reader to Buddhism, examine Buddhism's relevance in today's world and c...moreAn End to Suffering is an ambitious book -- a valiant attempt to introduce the reader to Buddhism, examine Buddhism's relevance in today's world and compare it with Western philosophy, combined with a generous dose of travel writing (descriptions of places which were important in the Buddha's life and what has become of them), Indian history (comparisons between the Buddha and Gandhi) and personal memoirs. This probably sounds like an interesting combination, and it is, but as far as I'm concerned, Mishra doesn't entirely pull it off. While parts of the book are fascinating (I particularly enjoyed the memoir aspect and the insightful way in which Mishra draws a comparison between Eastern philosophy and Western philosophy, notably Nietzsche), others are not nearly as well developed (the introduction to Buddhism remains just that -- an introduction). The different genres don't always blend smoothly, either, which occasionally makes for awkward reading; more rigorous editing would have improved the book considerably. Still, it's one of the more interesting books I translated despite these shortcomings; those who like popular philosophy and well-informed travel writing with a personal touch will find much to enjoy in it. (less)
Women who get foot facelifts to be able to wear their $500 Jimmy Choo shoes. Men who lie to several doctors in order to make sure they get Botox shots...moreWomen who get foot facelifts to be able to wear their $500 Jimmy Choo shoes. Men who lie to several doctors in order to make sure they get Botox shots every eight weeks. Young women modelling themselves on porn stars. People willingly having themselves injected with corpse flesh and collagen derived from the stem cells of an infant’s foreskin to get Angelina Jolie-like lips. Makeover subjects who all end up looking the same, conforming to the same dull beauty ideal. Bel Air wives who spend all day looking after their own bodies. Women who pose topless at websites in order to earn money for breast implants. Dentists who insist that they, too, are entitled to perform plastic surgery so as to be able to cash in on the beauty fad. Quacks selling bootleg ‘Botox’ that ends up ruining several people’s lives. These are just a few of the people described in Beauty Junkies, a look at America’s $15 billion cosmetic surgery industry by New York Times journalist Alex Kuczynski, herself a former beauty junkie who needed a pretty harsh wake-up call to realise that maybe, maybe, she and several million Americans were taking their obsession with looking good a bit too far.
Kuczynski quotes some staggering figures to prove that America is well and truly obsessed with cosmetic surgery. She cites famous and less famous surgeons, talks to extreme beauty junkies as well as ‘regular’ people undergoing surgery, describes mind-boggling new beautification techniques and demonstrates quite ably that in today’s America, looks are everything, to the point where girls do not want to be good – just look good. Needless to say, much of the book focuses on extremes, but even so, one gets the feeling that these extremes might one day become normal – that they’re harbingers of what is to come for America as well as the rest of the world. It’s a scary thought.
What I enjoyed most about the book was the chapter in which Kuczynski traces the historical origins of plastic surgery, in an age when it had nothing to do with getting bigger boobs, but everything with being made somewhat socially acceptable. Kuczynski describes sixteenth-century nose jobs which were awfully uncomfortable to the patients and frequently resulted in noses falling off in cold weather, disastrous late-nineteenth-century attempts to fill facial lines, and early-twentieth-century techniques to restore the faces of WWI soldiers who had had their jaws blown off in combat. It’s fascinating stuff and I wish she had devoted a bit more attention to it. Instead, however, she very quickly takes us to the present day, describing all manner of obsessions, excesses and nasty experiences (including a few of her own) to convince us that things have got a little out of hand. Well, we knew that, didn’t we?
My main problem with Beauty Junkies is that it is incoherent and unfocused. Kuczynski has some interesting, well-researched stories to tell, and she undeniably has an easy-to-read writing style, but the way the stories are linked together is not particularly smooth. It is clear the book started out as a collection of newspaper articles rather than as a scholarly endeavour, making it rather less successful as an in-depth analysis of a cultural phenomenon. Furthermore, it seems Kuczynski cannot make up her mind as to whether the book is to be about herself or not. She brings up her own experiences far too many times for Beauty Junkies to be an objective read, but too few times to make it a proper memoir. Instead it’s a rather curious mix of research, gossip and ego-babble – definitely interesting, but not as revealing and effective as it could and should have been. (less)
Like Alain de Botton, John Armstrong writes accessible philosophy books which are enjoyable even for those who are not of a philosophical, logical or...moreLike Alain de Botton, John Armstrong writes accessible philosophy books which are enjoyable even for those who are not of a philosophical, logical or abstract bent. In this highly discursive treatise he traces the nature of beauty and our response to it through such things as Hogarth's shapely curves, Pythagoras' theories on harmony, Palladio's ideas on well-proportioned architecture, Kant's meaning of pleasure and so on. It stays on the surface and doesn't lead to any profound insights or conclusions, but in all its meandering grace it's a pleasant enough, occasionally enlightening read. I think I prefer Alain de Botton, though.(less)
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