The Gathering by Anne Enright. OK, this was the book that's convinced me I want to start reading real books again (after a 2 month hiatus). I started it this morning, reluctantly went to work, and finished it after dinner.
The Hegarty clan gather in Dublin to mourn the suicide of their brother Liam. The structure of the story is interesting. The titular gathering doesn't take place until about 3/4s of the way through the book, but the consequences for Veronica, the narrator, have been in full play for the first part of the book. Enright weaves reminiscence, past, present, future, and fantasy to portray a woman in grief and a family coping with a subtle, insidious evil. And Veronica works through all this before we find out what the secrets are, or how the family reunion goes. And her anger and her grief is so real, and her hatred of everything, of her family, her husband, her children, herself rings so true. And so does her epiphany at the end of the book and all of this hatred, this rage and disgust at her husband, the world fundamentally shifts. This bone-deep shift is what I'm looking for in therapy, so finding it in a novel? Was an unexpected gift.
I can't wait to start my new book tomorrow! It's a lovely feeling.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
#11 The Restraint of Beasts
The Restraint of Beasts by Magnus Mills is fucking hilarious, in a very dour, scottish way. I'll be honest; it's dark enough I had to put it down for a couple of days. Not dark in a painful way, but dark in a repetitious, unending slog kind of way. But, once you push past that? It's pretty funny.
It's about Scots day laborers and their travails. But what I first thought was going to be a fairly standard workman's humor type quickly transformed into this dark, dour, funny, THING. I cannot stress this enough: the humor is DARK, almost Kafka-esque. To be honest, I had to remind myself it was a comedy before I could pick it up again. But, with that in mind, the workers' travails and endless evenings in the local pub become funny. As does the ever growing pile of bodies.
At any rate, it took me a while to get into, but once I did, I loved this book. I'm going to lend it to my dad, actually. I think he might get a kick out of it. However, warning, I think it's a pretty British brand of humor. Uncertain if it'd translate well to someone who doesn't think Cold Comfort Farm is hilarious, so yeah. Bear that in mind.
P.S. Plus, was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. Worth considering.
It's about Scots day laborers and their travails. But what I first thought was going to be a fairly standard workman's humor type quickly transformed into this dark, dour, funny, THING. I cannot stress this enough: the humor is DARK, almost Kafka-esque. To be honest, I had to remind myself it was a comedy before I could pick it up again. But, with that in mind, the workers' travails and endless evenings in the local pub become funny. As does the ever growing pile of bodies.
At any rate, it took me a while to get into, but once I did, I loved this book. I'm going to lend it to my dad, actually. I think he might get a kick out of it. However, warning, I think it's a pretty British brand of humor. Uncertain if it'd translate well to someone who doesn't think Cold Comfort Farm is hilarious, so yeah. Bear that in mind.
P.S. Plus, was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. Worth considering.
#10 Hold the Enlightenment
Tim Cahill's Hold the Enlightenment is, like his other books, hard to classify. Gonzo travel? Geographically diverse musings? New Age/Neanderthal drivel? I don't know. He has a very definite voice, albeit one that I can't quite pin down. All I can say is I think he writes like my dad sounds in my head. And that's quite nice, really.
So yes, it's a book of essays musing on, among other things, the extinct Caspian tiger, driving with camels, completely crushing a writing student, and praying to something he doesn't really believe in to save a child he loves. If you like essays at all, I would totally recommend this book. He's a bit more contemplative than Maarten Troost but more accessible than David Foster Wallace.
But, other than this book, I've started reading again. That's...nice. And rather unexpected. Actually, no. I should save this introspection for my next post. I read this book several weeks ago after stumbling across it at a thrift store, of all places. I'd completely forgotten about him until I saw his name on the spine of the book, but once I did... Pass the Butterworms: Remote Journeys Oddly Rendered is one of the those books I read over and over and over again. Alas, I can't find it now, think I might have cleaned out on one of my annual attempts to stave off my bookcase's inevitable collapse. Unfortunately, I've lost many books to this phenomenon, and it's at least part of the reason why I'm keeping this record.
So yes, it's a book of essays musing on, among other things, the extinct Caspian tiger, driving with camels, completely crushing a writing student, and praying to something he doesn't really believe in to save a child he loves. If you like essays at all, I would totally recommend this book. He's a bit more contemplative than Maarten Troost but more accessible than David Foster Wallace.
But, other than this book, I've started reading again. That's...nice. And rather unexpected. Actually, no. I should save this introspection for my next post. I read this book several weeks ago after stumbling across it at a thrift store, of all places. I'd completely forgotten about him until I saw his name on the spine of the book, but once I did... Pass the Butterworms: Remote Journeys Oddly Rendered is one of the those books I read over and over and over again. Alas, I can't find it now, think I might have cleaned out on one of my annual attempts to stave off my bookcase's inevitable collapse. Unfortunately, I've lost many books to this phenomenon, and it's at least part of the reason why I'm keeping this record.