The Guardian's Blog, page 137
April 4, 2014
Poster poems: Fruit
Having survived the winds of winter, the plum tree outside is now bursting into simultaneous leaf and flower, a little late but vigorously. It's the first real sign that spring is finally here, with a hope of better weather to come. More delightful still is the promise those white flower buds bear plump, juicy purple plums this autumn.
Inevitably, for a reader of poetry to think of plums is to think of William Carlos Williams's poem This Is Just to Say with its celebration of cold sweet plums fresh from the fridge, which is, in turn, really a marking of the virtues of simple domesticity and a life shared with another, or others.
April 3, 2014
Julian Barnes's pseudonymous detective novels stay under cover
Posters advertising Julian Barnes's Levels of Life currently greet you as you enter your local Waterstones branch, as the chain's book of the month, and it is stationed next to the tills along with The Sense of an Ending. Yet, strangely, copies of another Barnes book Duffy, the first of the four crime novels he wrote pseudonymously in the 80s are not there nudging you, although (presumably not by chance) the reissue is also out in April. This, and the fact that the novels written by Dan Kavanagh are coming out without any promotion from Barnes, reflect his wry aloofness from them. At julianbarnes.com, there is "a complete listing of books written by Julian Barnes", with a link to a separate site for "books written by Dan Kavanagh", as if he were a rackety, scapegrace friend or lodger he's often bafflingly confused with rather than an alter ego. (Contrast with the "Ruth Rendell writing as Barbara Vine" approach to pen names, or John Banville's eagerness to promote his crime series.)
Following the link to dankavanagh.com which features two blurred "alleged photos" reveals that the creator of the bisexual sleuth Duffy was born (like Barnes) in 1946, in (unlike Barnes) County Sligo and, after an adolescence devoted to "truancy, venery and theft", travelled the world taking such jobs as "a steer-wrestler, a waiter-on-roller-skates at a drive-in eatery in Tucson, and a bouncer in a gay bar in San Francisco", before settling in north London, probably in the 70s. How he's spent the decades since then and indeed whether he's still alive is not divulged.
English readers don't need independence from Scottish writers
In a newspaper interview this week, independent publisher Adrian Searle cast the the referendum debate in terms of publishing opportunities for Scottish writers: "What the majority want the majority gets," he said. "I've seen it again and again over the last three years. Writers having their work rejected by London publishers because it's Scottish in theme or content, which isn't the London publishers' fault. There is just less of a market."
Books that make you cry: share your weepiest moments
There's a new anthology out shortly, called Poems That Make Grown Men Cry. Now, poems provide easy pickings in the sob stakes Dover Beach, Ode to Immortality, Donal Og, The River Merchant's Wife. But what about books? Not whole books, but moments in books that make you come up short, lines that perhaps make you think some dust got in your eye.
Sometimes they're desolating, sometimes uplifting, so here are some of both, with due respect for context and non-spoilering, and trying to keep each to a couple of sentences.
She walked rapidly in the thin June sunlight towards the worst horror of all.
But she turned to the door, and her headshake was now the end. "We shall never be again as we were!"
Death never mattered at those times in the early days I even used to pray for it: the shattering annihilation that would prevent for ever the getting up, the putting on of clothes, the watching her torch trail across to the opposite side of the common like the tail-light of a low car driving away.
To think that I've wasted years of my life, that I've longed to die, that I've experienced my greatest love, for a woman who didn't appeal to me, who wasn't even my type.
Blind and crying, their love groped for a door of entry, and turned away defeated.
All the men and women she knew were like atoms whirling away from each other in some wild centrifugal dance: her first glimpse of the continuity of life had come to her that evening.
Now truly we were cast out to wander, and there was an end to housekeeping.
I lingered round [the three graves], under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath, and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
He heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.
He gently released my hand, opened the door, went inside, and shut the door behind him. I never saw him again.
She walked away from him and, as he watched her go, he found that the terrible weight in his stomach seemed to have lessened slightly.
"Only the margin left to write on now. I love you, I love you, I love you."
April 2, 2014
April's Reading group: Shakespeare's The Tempest
Deciding this month's Reading Group choice by vote wasn't one of my greatest ideas. I didn't take account of how hard it is to choose between Shakespeare's plays. There's a reason people are given the complete works on Desert Island Discs. Selecting a single one is very tough. So it's unsurprising that there was a large number of plays in contention, and that everyone seemed to have a different favourite. Or four or five favourites. It ended up as a face-off between 20 different plays. There was also a tied vote at the top, between Macbeth and The Tempest.
April 1, 2014
Tips, links and suggestions: What are you reading this week?
Your space to discuss the books you are reading and what you think of them
Welcome to this week's blog.
We begin with the unexpected. DotGumbi sent us this cheeky shot of her reading a fan fiction mash-up of Jurassic Park and Pulp Fiction.
Reading a bonkers mash-up.
Sent via GuardianWitness
By DotGumbi
24 March 2014, 9:33
I'm reading more books simultaneously this time than I can recall ever having done before ...
'Reading Lolita in Tehran' by Azar Nafisi -- which I missed when it first came out. An earnest bibliomemoir, but quite eye-opening, even after all these years.
There's nothing wrong with having a number of books on the go. Books match moods and sometimes you need a break if they are particularly long or an arduous read. Certainly reading fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir at the same time can work really well.
I think the internet has changed my reading habits so that I need to switch books after every 50 pages or so.
The wonderful prose of "Sylvie", Nerval's masterpiece, deserves to be the only stimulus reaching your senses.
Sent via GuardianWitness
23 March 2014, 2:19
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21 March 2014, 12:46
My guilty pleasure, crime fiction. My mother has always been an avid crime fiction reader, but I resisted this temptation for years before giving in. I'm still no big crime fiction reader, but I have a soft spot for Alan Bradley's candid series.
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By Kalyiel
22 March 2014, 19:42
This book is utterly fascinating. It literally opens up a whole new perspective of Ayatollah Khomeini's life, a perspective which was hidden from the Western world until recently.
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By Muhammed1
25 March 2014, 19:47
This week I have read two fine pieces of popular history. The first was On Secret Service East of Constantinople by the mighty Peter Hopkirk, the only one of his books I'd not previously read.
Hopkirk is one of the true masters of this genre, brilliantly able to craft a ripping yarn from convoluted source material and to drive a thundering narrative through the thicket of facts. There might be just a few too many "wily sultans" and "dastardly kaisers", but the book was published 20 years ago, and in any case, it's so much fun I'd forgive more or less anything. The subject is the German attempt to ignite a "jihad" against British interests in Asia during World War I, a little known facet of that conflict, and one with obvious later parallels.
I recently finished Sarah Churchwell's Careless People, which I found immensely enjoyable and also made me realise how poor my knowledge of (even modern) American history is. The futility of prohibition and the flourishing of bootlegging under it was especially fascinating.
Despite all the parties and scandals, it is a tragic story too. I was struck by the youth of Scott and Zelda at the height of their fame and their separate ends are heartbreaking.
Kawergosk refugee camp's hope in the face of tragedy
Live webchat with Khaled Hosseini, Wednesday 2 April at 4pm
I set the The Kite Runner against a backdrop of the troubled history of Afghanistan over the last three decades. The story of Amir and Hassan unfolded against 30 long years of conflict and massive human suffering, during which millions of Afghans fled and sought sanctuary in Pakistan, Iran and beyond. Including my own family.
Khaled Hosseini live Q&A
Khaled Hosseini, the best-selling author of The Kite Runner, will be live online on Wednesday 2 April to answer your questions about his role as an ambassador for refugees.
Patricia Highsmith's criminal neglect
It looks as though we're about to see a resurgence of interest in American crime writer Patricia Highsmith and frankly, it's about time. This month brings the re-release of her book The Two Faces of January, ahead of a movie adaptation starring Kirsten Dunst and Viggo Mortensen, which comes out in May. In March, Virago released Highsmith's novels as ebooks for the first time and in September they'll publish the three books she wrote in England (The Glass Cell, A Suspension of Mercy and Those Who Walk Away) in paperback with new introductions by Joan Schenkar, author of the biography The Talented Miss Highsmith. Perhaps most enticing of all, Highsmith's 1950s lesbian romance Carol is currently being made into a film by Todd "Far From Heaven" Haynes, starring Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara. Yet even a movie with this kind of cachet might not persuade people to revisit the source material.
When Anthony Minghella's adaptation of The Talented Mr Ripley came out back in 1999, it sparked a mini Highsmith revival, with the mandatory movie tie-in re-release of the novel. But audiences seemed more interested in Matt Damon's star turn and Jude Law's cheekbones than Highsmith's writing, which is understandable, but disappointing. Because while it's a respectable film, it fails to replicate the tension and creeping menace of the novel ("He liked the fact that Venice had no cars. It made the city human. The streets were like veins, he thought, and the people were the blood, circulating everywhere"), or the breathless excitement of reading the story of Tom Ripley, a small-time conman who becomes a rich, successful sociopath. ("Mr Greenleaf was such a decent fellow himself, he took it for granted that everybody else in the world was decent, too. Tom had almost forgotten such people existed.")
Khaled Hosseini live Q&A
On Wednesday 2 April at 4pm, the author of The Kite Runner and UN refugee agency ambassador will be live online. Post your questions on anything from the refugee crises affecting Syria, South Sudan and other countries to the wider challenges facing people displaced by humanitarian crisis and conflict
Khaled Hosseini, best-selling author of The Kite Runner, will be live online on Wednesday 2 April to answer your questions about the world's refugee crises and the challenges that face people displaced by conflict, hunger and other humanitarian issues.
Hosseini, who was born in Kabul, the Afghan capital, has some insight into what it feels like to be forced to live beyond the borders of ones own country. In 1979, three years after his fathers role as a diplomat had taken the family to Paris, the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan. Unable to return home, the Hosseinis successfully applied for asylum in the US, where they grappled with financial uncertainty and a sense of displacement.
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