BookChat
We have our own Company of Books recommendation section, but we’d also love to hear what you think of the books you’re reading, whether good or bad, new releases or ancient tomes. Here is the place to expose hidden gems to the light, or to shout ‘The emperor has no clothes!’ if there’s something you think is overrated.
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Hello COB and Fans of COB
I’m wondering if anyone has read Anne Enright’s book, The Forgotten Waltz? If so, would welcome an opinion – or several. Perhaps I’m old fashioned, but I am finding the Raunch level a bit over the top. I recall the reviews all commented on this, and she herself was aware that it would cause a stir. But there’s a lot of heaving trysts and not a huge amount else in between. Some lovely writing on her relationship with her mother (the narrator’s), something like loathing of the other characters by the narrator – of the Other wife, the sister, the brother-in-law, the unfortunate husband. Seems a bad-tempered book really. But would love to hear some other thoughts.
I’m not really qualified to comment on this as a reading experience as I cheated a bit with it and listened to it on Radio 4 a few months ago. There certainly wasn’t much indication of a ‘raunch level’ on that, as you can imagine. Also it was read by Niamh Cusack, who I think has quite an annoying voice, and that put me off the narrator for starts. I didn’t find it interesting enough to want to read it afterwards. though now that you say it’s raunchy, I might reconsider. I wonder if it’s in stock in COB?
Indeed it is, Paycock. Perhaps you’ll make the trip to visit us, lured by the promise of some raunch? (Though I’m not sure that’s quite the image we want . . .) On the subject of the book itself, I haven’t read it, but a customer recently said to me, in hushed tones lest she be overheard, ‘It’s really only chick lit’. What would you think to that, Fiery Redhead?
I am alarmed at the attitude towards ‘raunch’. Nothing wrong with a bit of that in a book as long as it’s written with style and isn’t gratuitous. I haven’t read this book but am rushing to COB to purchase a copy!!
Chicklit? mmm. Well funnily enough my mother who is a prime 88 (she doesn’t read blogs so won’t see me declaring her vintage) waded through it and dismissed it as that very thing. In fact when I picked it up to read it, she kept telling me how disappointing she had found it as it was merely ‘chicklit’.
I just finished it last night actually – and take back my ref. to raunch, there’s not much in it. It wasn’t an attitude towards raunch at all, Sorcha, rather that there wasn’t much else in the book at the start. It then turned into something quite different, a downward slump as the relationship took hold ** no spoilers** and other matters took precedence. I suppose I would recommend it as Anne Enright is an important Irish writer but I really don’t think it’s her best. I’m going to hit back at that ‘raunch attitude’ and get Joan Collins’ autobiog. next….
Is she an important Irish writer? Why?
I see where you’re going with this, Sazerac, and I have to say that I’m sure that Sebastian Barry would equally be considered an ‘important Irish writer’, but I can’t hand on heart recommend his book to anyone who asks my opinion in COB, as I think there are just better ways of spending reading time.
I don’t agree. I even wrote on this site that I thought he’d win the booker prize for his book. I thought it was excellent. Almost poetry at times. Like I said, I didn’t find the Anne Enright interesting enough to want to read it after hearing it on the radio, but maybe that was the fault of the abridger or the reader. Of course she’s an important writer. Didn’t she win the booker?
Dear Juno’s Paycock,
Yes Anne Enright won the Booker for The Gathering in 2007. I see The Forgotten Waltz was described as a ‘darkly funny tale of adultery in modern Dublin…’ I must say I am enjoying reading all of your comments about the book, particularly Fiery Redhead’s aversion to it so I may just go and steal my wife’s copy which she has hiding under her side of the bed.
If winning the Booker is an indication of importance then I have just two words: ‘Howard’ and ‘Jacobson’. Could anyone tell me what ‘important’ actually means in this context anyway?
Controversial as ever Sazerac, though the Booker seems to be an award in the vein of the Oscars. Not always handed out for the right piece of work.
Sorry, Gwen, I don’t mean to be controversial, I’m just wondering what ‘important’ means when you talk about someone like Anne Enright. Or Sebastian Barry, or any of them. I was hoping that Fiery Redhead would answer that one since s/he was the person who used the expression. I wouldn’t have thought it’s a particularly controversial topic. I just don’t see that those books have added much to the sum of human understanding. Is an ‘important Irish writer’ different from an ‘important writer’? I suppose I might never know.
No need to apologise, Sazerac. Here at The COB we like, nay relish, plain speaking. Unfortunately I can’t help you with the definition problem, as I think many writers today are more self-important than important. (Not too controversial I hope, my dear colleague, Gwen?)
Hmm, Anne Enright, the chick lit author… That’s an accolade she wasn’t expecting! Must let the publishers know of her change in direction so they can produce her future books with glitzy, bright covers… Make way Jackie Collins!
Not only Anne Enright, but I also heard that debate on whether Colm Toibin’s ‘Brooklyn’ qualified for the accolade. Does this mean that in future the women on those book covers pictured standing on the decks of ships peering wistfully into space as they float off towards America will be dressed in dusty pink coats and spangly headscarves?
Yes, proper order…
Has anyone read Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy as I have seen the film twice now, deciding not to read the book first. The film is brilliant, successfully conjuring up the tension of being a spy in the Cold War era and the disenchantment that that very profession brought to those who chose or were chosen to enter the world of espionage.
Is the book to be recommended now or will my viewings spoil the read?
I can’t help you there, Sorcha, unfortunately, as I too saw the film without having read the book. I flicked through it in COB yesterday and it looked like there was quite a bit that hadn’t made it to the screen, so it probably offers a much fuller experience than the film could. I’ve heard that le Carre books take a bit of getting into, but that once you’re in, you’re hooked. While we’re on that subject, I have to confess a guilty secret: ‘The Spy who Came In from the Cold’, which appears on so many must-read lists of books, left me cold. I was about thirty pages from the end when I put it aside for something else and then just forgot to go back to it. When I did remember it, I found I just couldn’t be bothered. I have felt guilty about this for a long time, until a few days ago a customer confessed to the same feeling. So – ‘My name is Anne, and I didn’t like ‘The Spy who Came In from the Cold’.’
Update, Sorcha – I listened today to a radio discussion on ‘Tinker Tailor’, and the consensus among the three participants was that the film does as well as it can in compressing the complexity of the book, but the inevitable result of that is that the various relationships are not sufficiently developed in the film for the revelation at the end to make much of an emotional impact. I got the distinct impression that the book would not be spoiled by having seen the film, unless all you’re interested in is the actual identity of the mole.
‘The Night Circus’, Erin Morgenstern
I was very enthused by the opening pages of this book, the latest publishing sensation by all accounts. Shades of ‘Le Grand Meaulnes’, hints of ‘Steppenwolf’. Short-lived, alas. Ultimately it has neither the charm of the former, nor the depth of the latter. It isn’t bad as such. If it has one major fault it’s that it’s about twice as long as it needs to be. Like her two main characters, the author keeps inventing ever more spectacles, so that the whole thing becomes somewhat repetitious and baggy, and the denouement when it finally comes, does not have the same illuminating impact on the reader as it seems to do on the Cirque des Reves. The female character at the heart of the book performs real magic; her skill is that she can disguise it as mere illusion to protect her audience from a truth they might not be able to handle. Unfortunately the author herself works only in the mundane realm of illusion, and too often, despite the many flourishes, there is nothing to pull from the hat.
As usual, I have left reading other reviews until such time as I had read and reviewed the book myself. I have just this minute checked out a review from the Observer newspaper and find that the word ‘baggily’ has been used therein. While it’s interesting to see that we both went for the same word, I would like to reassure all COB patrons that, in every case, any resemblance to prior reviews is purely coincidental . . .
Re Booker Shortlist: Snowdrops – AD Miller
Anyone read this debut novel which somehow got to the shortlist? Graham Greene on steroids pronounces the jacket. I’d say Mr Greene would turn in his proverbial if he heard that. It’s a thriller alright, it fairly boots along and gives great Moscuvite in snow scenes. I know there’s been a lot of talk about the ‘easy reading’ Booker shortlists and I suppose that falls into this category. Some of the writing I honestly thought was just bad. The plot is so loudly signposted all the way through, so it drifts to a close rather than there being any big reveal or such. Still entertaining read for these autumn nights.
What’s anyone else think?
I just finished this book. I enjoyed it for its “easy reading” and snowy Moscow setting. About a third of the way in, you do begin to suspect what’s happened. I suppose in a way it’s written as a confession to his fiancée on the part of the narrator, so perhaps you don’t expect a sudden reveal at the end, but the gradual unfolding of what went on. I was a little bit disappointed with the last sentences of the book, though was left wondering about their impact on his fiancée. Too light to win the Booker, but just right for a gusty autumn night.
It’s slipped a bit down my ‘to read’ pile as this week has seen the publication of some interesting-looking tomes, so I may be leaving it for a gusty winter night at this rate. But on the subject of the ‘easy reading’ Booker, I’m kind of of the school of thought that says there are enough prizes out there for easy reads, and the Booker should stick to trying to bring other types of work to a wider audience (à la Hilary Mantel). It seems the shortlist sales are up this year, but it could just be that these books, by their very nature, would have sold anyway, especially since a couple of them have already gone into the cheap format. As to how ‘Snowdrops’ ended up on the list – I’d say you’d have take into account the former occupation of the chief Booker judge to explain that one.
The Map And The Territory, Michel Houellebecq
Currently reading one of the aforementioned interesting-looking tomes, the new Michel Houellebecq novel, The Map and the Territory. The word that springs to mind at this point is ‘mischievous’. The central character is an artist called Jed, who is currently working on a painting entitled Damien Hirst and Jeff Koons Dividing Up the Art Market. On the opening page of the novel we are told that “Hirst was basically easy to capture: you could make him brutal, cynical in an ‘I shit on you from the top of my pile of dosh’ kind of way; you could also make him a rebel artist (but rich all the same) pursuing an anguished work on death; finally, there was in his face something ruddy and heavy, typically English, which made him look like a rank-and-file Arsenal supporter.”
I’m about 100 pages in and Jed has just arrived in Shannon to meet the famous author Michel Houellebecq, who lives there for part of the year, to try to persuade him to write the catalogue for his latest exhibition (“It was public knowledge that Houellebecq was a loner with strong misanthropic tendencies: it was rare even for him to say a word to his dog”). Thus far it’s a witty and sharp novel, which underneath the playful (or are they?) barbs is asking some interesting questions about the nature, purpose and/or point of art and literature. The one very slight negative is that on occasion the translation seems to falter slightly in a way almost impossible to pinpoint, except to say that it reads more like French than English in construction. Still, it’s a very minor detail in what is so far an otherwise highly enjoyable reading experience.
It’s becoming more irritating. Up to page 150 now and so far there have been two sentences that don’t appear to make sense, possibly due to missing clauses, and there is an obvious word missing from another. I doubt this is some authorial device. Even if the overall translation is on the weak side, the proof-reader should have picked up the individual technical problems. A shame that a novel that won the Prix Goncourt should be so ill served in its English edition.
Sometimes the book of the year appears as early as February. Allan Wolf’s ‘The Watch that Ends the Night’ looks set to be the COB pick for 2012 . . .