Helen Oyeyemi is someone that I am immensely jealous of, I can't lie. She wrote her first novel when she was supposed to be doing her A-Levels, studied at Cambridge and lives in Prague. She's now published seven books (including plays), five of them novels, and she can still only be about 30 (she graduated Cambridge in 2006). She was a precocious talent who has now established herself in a successful writing career, producing critically acclaimed novels, which I greatly admire. She was on Granta's Top 20 Young Novelists under 30 in 2013. She's not much of a public figure: there aren't that many interviews with her, and I can't find a twitter page for her. This just makes her more enigmatic, I think. Anyway, to her books.
The books I've read:
Boy, Snow, Bird: This is her latest book and most definitely my favourite. Here I think Helen got the balance just right between magical realism and an engaging, could-actually-happen plot. This was the first Oyeyemi I read and where I fell in love with her writing style: it's just beautiful, and I wanted to eat it up. It's the kind of beautiful writing that's easy to read too, and doesn't feel forced or try-hard. I loved the plot of this one too: it is told in three sections (but not in the titular order- it goes Boy, Bird, Snow), and follows a family in New England. Boy is the new wife of a widower, Arturo, who already has a daughter called Snow. When Boy has a baby girl, Bird, and she turns out to be coloured, the family pretty much falls apart, and it's interesting to see the tensions and fairytale elements weaved in. I think multiple perspectives really works here, and I loved to hear from each instrumental character and their dramatically different points of view. The themes are race, appearance and fitting in: very deep, but tackled in such a way that it doesn't feel like you're having an opinion forced on you, rather like you can explore things for yourself. Five stars.
White is for Witching: My second Oyeyemi, and probably my least favourite. It's very experimental: it follows Miranda, who lives in a house on the white cliffs of Dover. However she has a condition called Pica which means that she wants to eat non-edible items, the main one of these being chalk. Aha. It's a novel that really explores Miranda's mental state. And the narrators- Miranda, her twin brother, her best friend, and finally, the house that she lives in. Bonkers, but it does work. I enjoyed it, but didn't feel I really cared for Miranda and it was sometimes a little too disjointed (just for my personal taste), so I gave it three stars.
Mr Fox: I would describe this as a really interesting book. I just finished this one yesterday, and loved it at the beginning, and whilst my love petered off towards the end I did really enjoy it. It's about novelist St John Fox and his imaginary muse, Mary Foxe. One day she appears to him and tells him to stop killing off his female characters, a literary trope that he keeps on repeating. She calls him a serial killer, and then to battle it out the two of them (in his subconscious) start to tell stories which illustrate their side of the argument. Oyeyemi reworks folkloric characters such as Bluebeard and Reynardine, makes up some of her own strange tales (Blue and Brown? Hello?), and re-imagines St John and Mary (real and alive) in different situations. I enjoyed a lot of the pieces, and again they're written so well, but I felt a little like they led away from the original point that is made in the opening about how the killing of women in literature seems to make it okay in life, and about how male desires are so often hidden behind violence, both of which have to stop. The pieces became so obscure and fantastical that I couldn't quite remember what she was saying: although I really did enjoy the closing on the titular fox. I think everything in this book is well done, and well orchestrated: it just felt like a short story collection, rather than a novel. I gave it three stars but it is nudging on four: I'll probably change it.
The books to read:
Icarus Girl and The Opposite House- her two earliest novels. I seem to enjoy her most recent works the most, but I would like to get to these. I'll probably feel even more envious of her when I read what she published so young.
What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours- a new collection of interweaved stories, out in 2016.
I think Helen Oyeyemi is a really exciting author: her books might not always be perfect but I really admire what she's trying to do and the themes she is exploring. She's serious, establishing a viewpoint and certain opinions, but she does it in such a light and beautiful way that I feel she has a really important voice. I love seeing her writing progress over her work. And her writing is sublime. I feel like I'm really going to love what she does next.
Showing posts with label book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book. Show all posts
Thursday, 19 November 2015
Sunday, 26 July 2015
Book Review: 'A Visit from the Goon Squad' by Jennifer Egan
“If I had a view like this to
look down on every day, I would
have the energy and inspiration
to conquer the world. The trouble is,
when you most need such a view,
no one gives it to you.”
What was it about?
A Visit from the Goon Squad is sold by the fact that it is controversially called both a novel and short story collection: it contains a series of interlinked stories, with characters that overlap and appear in more than one story, characters which (sometimes unknowingly) have great affects on each others lives. The protagonists who tend to provide the links are music executive Bennie Salazar and his assistant Sasha. This concept greatly intrigues me- how we shape each others lives, how we change over time, how we represent and misrepresent ourselves.
What did I like?
Many of the characters were very distinctive, and extremely interested. From the very first story I wanted to learn more about Sasha, to understand her and both how she became the way she was and what she would do in the future. The characters, in general, were vivid and fantastically painted. It was very clear that they were passionate about something, and devastated when this passion failed, or when real life overtook the dream that they had.
I loved it when a detail from an earlier story shed light on something in a later one. You can't put a price on the feeling when you know something the characters don't, or when you go 'aha!' because you recognise something and suddenly it all makes sense.
It was a pretty depressing novel- we followed these characters for large chunks of their lives, through the ups and inevitable downs. Bad things happened, terrible things. They only seemed fleetingly happy. Everyone settled. Everyone was deprived of their dreams in some way. There was no silver lining or happy ending. But I liked its honesty, and the complicated psychological world that it portrayed. The world isn't, and should never be portrayed as, perfect- this novel felt like a portrait of what is unpleasant, but true.
The chapter made up of a powerpoint presentation. Of course.
What did I dislike?
I almost feel like the novel/short story collection didn't quite achieve what it set out to do, to tell these stories of Bennie and Sasha. Some of the stories were too wide, and whilst interesting, seemed a little pointless. They led the story away from what I wanted to know: who were Sasha and Bennie, why did they make the decisions they did, why did they lead the lives they did? I felt we did get to the bottom of this with Sasha actually, but not Bennie. I wasn't sure I ever understood him.
Overall, I'm not quite sure what Jennifer Egan was trying to say. Her techniques were great and I am awed by how flawlessly she created all the different perspectives and revealed some information by using them. But, I don't know, I felt kind of cheated by the end. Like I didn't find out enough, learn enough. I wanted something more revealing, something like the TV show The Affair, when characters are truly exposed by another's perspective. I didn't quite get that.
It was a little depressing.
Would I recommend?
Yes. But it would be easy to give up on, especially when the perspective changes so often.
View it on Goodreads here.
Friday, 31 October 2014
'I need you darling come and set the tone...'
Review: All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
Now this was a book that had been raved about on BookTube, particularly by Reagan at Peruse Project, and when something is that loved, I feel the peer pressure. Even more, All the Light We Cannot See seemed like the perfect book for me; a historical fiction set in World War Two, in both Germany and France following two young narrators, blind Marie-Laure and mechanical whizz Werner.
I bought the book. I put it on my TBR list. I stroked the cover and waited hopefully for the day when I'd finished all my uni books and could give it a read. But when I started it, I found I wasn't that enthralled! What was wrong with me?
So I put it down... and then the hype got the better of me again and I picked it back up. I sat down and I concentrated, and I suddenly loved it. I think I got more into the novel quickly due to the very short chapters; once I sat down and motored on through a few of them, I was drawn in, I was hooked. As soon as things began to happen to the characters, as soon as they were thrown into times of crisis, I was enthralled. There was something magical about the characters in this novel, how much you lived for them and wanted them to survive and be happy. The historical detail was beautiful too, not overloaded but just perfectly balanced. I also enjoyed the moving back and forward through the years of the novel, from before the war to years after, as this helped build tension and really grip me, especially when you knew something from one section that would impact another later one greatly.
By the ending the tears had started to pool up in my eyes. Werner! Marie-Laure! I loved them both, and hoped against hope that they would survive. I don't think I realised quite how much I cared for them, and even the peripheral characters; Jutta, Werner's sister, and Daniel, Marie-Laure's father, hardly appear in the narrative themselves, but the reader cares deeply for them because of our deep affection for Werner and Marie-Laure, which is quite a skill. I also loved Etienne and Madame Manec, who made Marie-Laure's scenes in Saint-Malo such a joy.
Overall this was a fantastic book that said a lot about human nature; our fallibility, our kindness, and our brutality. It said a lot about times of crisis, how we can change under pressure, and how we can often push aside issues to do what we love, or be with who we love. But underneath it all we all have morals or a conscience that end up pushing through. I don't feel like I could aptly say what I feel about this book, because it was simply fantastic, and explored and said so much. It's hard to sum it up, so my advice is just to read it.
What is it about? How we see the world, in more ways and our senses. And how we act on what we see.
Would I recommend? Obviously, yes. Why did I even ask myself this question?
Now this was a book that had been raved about on BookTube, particularly by Reagan at Peruse Project, and when something is that loved, I feel the peer pressure. Even more, All the Light We Cannot See seemed like the perfect book for me; a historical fiction set in World War Two, in both Germany and France following two young narrators, blind Marie-Laure and mechanical whizz Werner.
I bought the book. I put it on my TBR list. I stroked the cover and waited hopefully for the day when I'd finished all my uni books and could give it a read. But when I started it, I found I wasn't that enthralled! What was wrong with me?
So I put it down... and then the hype got the better of me again and I picked it back up. I sat down and I concentrated, and I suddenly loved it. I think I got more into the novel quickly due to the very short chapters; once I sat down and motored on through a few of them, I was drawn in, I was hooked. As soon as things began to happen to the characters, as soon as they were thrown into times of crisis, I was enthralled. There was something magical about the characters in this novel, how much you lived for them and wanted them to survive and be happy. The historical detail was beautiful too, not overloaded but just perfectly balanced. I also enjoyed the moving back and forward through the years of the novel, from before the war to years after, as this helped build tension and really grip me, especially when you knew something from one section that would impact another later one greatly.
By the ending the tears had started to pool up in my eyes. Werner! Marie-Laure! I loved them both, and hoped against hope that they would survive. I don't think I realised quite how much I cared for them, and even the peripheral characters; Jutta, Werner's sister, and Daniel, Marie-Laure's father, hardly appear in the narrative themselves, but the reader cares deeply for them because of our deep affection for Werner and Marie-Laure, which is quite a skill. I also loved Etienne and Madame Manec, who made Marie-Laure's scenes in Saint-Malo such a joy.
Overall this was a fantastic book that said a lot about human nature; our fallibility, our kindness, and our brutality. It said a lot about times of crisis, how we can change under pressure, and how we can often push aside issues to do what we love, or be with who we love. But underneath it all we all have morals or a conscience that end up pushing through. I don't feel like I could aptly say what I feel about this book, because it was simply fantastic, and explored and said so much. It's hard to sum it up, so my advice is just to read it.
What is it about? How we see the world, in more ways and our senses. And how we act on what we see.
Would I recommend? Obviously, yes. Why did I even ask myself this question?
Saturday, 11 October 2014
'You say I'm crazy...'
Review: The Crane Wife by Patrick Ness
This was an odd book; I liked it, but it was odd. It follows George, an American in London (with uncanny similarities to Ness himself) who is has pretty much checked out of life. It hasn't gone well for him; he runs a small printing shop, is divorced and is all too often told that he is too nice for women and let go. In the opening chapter (which is beautifully written and provides an instant hook, which unfortunately is not replicated again in the novel), George wakes up in the middle of the night to find a crane in his back garden, a crane which has an unusual arrow through its wing. George goes outside and proceeds to remove the arrow, saving the life of the bird. The bird flies away, and George goes back to bed.
He then meets a beautiful woman named Kumiko, who walks into his shop asking for some printing help. George and Kumiko inevitably fall in love, and over the course of the novel it is increasingly implied that Kumiko is the crane in human form. It is implied that George saved Kumiko and thus she is now here to do the same for him, yet emotionally rather than physically. George and Kumiko work together on artwork and have a remarkably quick romance yet George feels that Kumiko holds something back, which he is throughout the novel trying to figure out, before the dramatic ending.
Interweaved in this narrative is the story of George's daughter, Amanda, who again needs to be emotionally saved. Amanda is also divorced, a single mother and finds it hard to connect to people and thus has no friends. Kumiko provides a connection that she finds it hard to understand, but proves to Amanda that she is not inherently damaged.
I felt some aspects didn't quite work; I was confused by the entire storyline with Rachel. Why was she affected so strongly by Kumiko- just because everyone else was? I don't understand why her character needed a resolution; for me, her only purpose was her failed liason with George. I also couldn't quite understand the relationship of George and Kumiko; I think they needed more standalone scenes together, just conversations, to show their real chemistry, and just getting to know each other. Although their relationship is supposed to be a whirlwind romance, one based on fate and sheer happiness, so maybe that is not actually needed. I also felt like the inclusion of the myths weren't needed; they halted the narrative and didn't always make much sense, so it felt like Ness was trying to hard to include a sophisticated metaphor. I like the idea of the parallel tale and the source material, however I think it would have been better to summarise this at the beginning or weave it in in a more subtle, less chunky way.
The opening was definitely the strongest part of the novel, as was the relationship between George, Amanda and Jean-Pierre, which I found so endearing. JP was hands down the best character; I found myself laughing out loud at some of his lines, surprising for a small child. He's the kind of kid who cheers up every page he's on, and I'd like to know him in real life. George was also likeable, which I think helped with the story; it would have been hard to read this novel if its protagonist was a grumpy old man. His inherent cheerfulness and strive for happiness makes him a good character who you in turn want to achieve his goals, and feel sorry for when he makes a mistake. Overall I think Ness did a good job with his source material and created an intriguing and endearing novel. It wasn't 100% perfect or clear, however I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.
What was it about?
Would I recommend? Yes, I think so.
This was an odd book; I liked it, but it was odd. It follows George, an American in London (with uncanny similarities to Ness himself) who is has pretty much checked out of life. It hasn't gone well for him; he runs a small printing shop, is divorced and is all too often told that he is too nice for women and let go. In the opening chapter (which is beautifully written and provides an instant hook, which unfortunately is not replicated again in the novel), George wakes up in the middle of the night to find a crane in his back garden, a crane which has an unusual arrow through its wing. George goes outside and proceeds to remove the arrow, saving the life of the bird. The bird flies away, and George goes back to bed.
He then meets a beautiful woman named Kumiko, who walks into his shop asking for some printing help. George and Kumiko inevitably fall in love, and over the course of the novel it is increasingly implied that Kumiko is the crane in human form. It is implied that George saved Kumiko and thus she is now here to do the same for him, yet emotionally rather than physically. George and Kumiko work together on artwork and have a remarkably quick romance yet George feels that Kumiko holds something back, which he is throughout the novel trying to figure out, before the dramatic ending.
Interweaved in this narrative is the story of George's daughter, Amanda, who again needs to be emotionally saved. Amanda is also divorced, a single mother and finds it hard to connect to people and thus has no friends. Kumiko provides a connection that she finds it hard to understand, but proves to Amanda that she is not inherently damaged.
I felt some aspects didn't quite work; I was confused by the entire storyline with Rachel. Why was she affected so strongly by Kumiko- just because everyone else was? I don't understand why her character needed a resolution; for me, her only purpose was her failed liason with George. I also couldn't quite understand the relationship of George and Kumiko; I think they needed more standalone scenes together, just conversations, to show their real chemistry, and just getting to know each other. Although their relationship is supposed to be a whirlwind romance, one based on fate and sheer happiness, so maybe that is not actually needed. I also felt like the inclusion of the myths weren't needed; they halted the narrative and didn't always make much sense, so it felt like Ness was trying to hard to include a sophisticated metaphor. I like the idea of the parallel tale and the source material, however I think it would have been better to summarise this at the beginning or weave it in in a more subtle, less chunky way.
The opening was definitely the strongest part of the novel, as was the relationship between George, Amanda and Jean-Pierre, which I found so endearing. JP was hands down the best character; I found myself laughing out loud at some of his lines, surprising for a small child. He's the kind of kid who cheers up every page he's on, and I'd like to know him in real life. George was also likeable, which I think helped with the story; it would have been hard to read this novel if its protagonist was a grumpy old man. His inherent cheerfulness and strive for happiness makes him a good character who you in turn want to achieve his goals, and feel sorry for when he makes a mistake. Overall I think Ness did a good job with his source material and created an intriguing and endearing novel. It wasn't 100% perfect or clear, however I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.
What was it about?
Would I recommend? Yes, I think so.
Friday, 3 October 2014
'When I'm down and feeling blue...'
Review: After Dark by Haruki Murakami
This will most likely be a short review for a short book, but my God, this one was magical. After Dark was my first Murakami novel, and despite mixed reviews on Goodreads, it did not disappoint.
I was thoroughly hooked by the lyrical, beautiful description of the Japanese city from the opening pages, and whilst this did not continue throughout the whole novel, it's a description that will come to haunt me as it haunted the whole book.
The novel follows a young girl, Mari, and what happens to both her and her sister over one night in the Tokyo. Here Mari meets people who exist only at night, who have secrets that draw on her own. All of the characters are so well drawn and unique, and could all have been main characters in their own, expanded novel. I enjoyed the un-cliche (is that a word?) portrayal of clever Mari who always wants to better herself, and the full of chatter yet slightly serious Takahashi, a boy she meets on her way. The storyline with Mari's sister Eri is the strange one, and it is the big mystery in the novel which is never quite figured out, however the multiple weaving storylines are so gripping, and I'm not sure how.Although this piece did not make sense a hundred percent, I found it to be so inherently beautiful and enthralling that I couldn't put it down. It opened my eyes up to the Japanese culture which is completely different from anything that I have experienced, and yet the characters and the situation seemed to identifiable. The depiction of the night and the dark was chilling, but also so real and honest. Murakami seemed to do something so hard for a novelist, and condense such a huge theme into such a small work. It is a work that was so broad and yet so condensed I cannot really explain it, and feel that I am just rambling on. It is a work that will stick with me.
This was a book that I got from the library but would love to buy in paperback, it was so good. I've never really been that into magical realism, but I am most certainly into Murakami, so I would certainly like to give his works a try. Norwegian Wood is number one on my list for now, one that I will definitely have to purchase in the near future.
What is it about? I don't know, and I think it will take me a while to process. Right now I'm thinking secrets, and what of ourselves we choose to reveal to the world and what we hide.
Would I recommend? Yes, 100%.
This will most likely be a short review for a short book, but my God, this one was magical. After Dark was my first Murakami novel, and despite mixed reviews on Goodreads, it did not disappoint.
I was thoroughly hooked by the lyrical, beautiful description of the Japanese city from the opening pages, and whilst this did not continue throughout the whole novel, it's a description that will come to haunt me as it haunted the whole book.
The novel follows a young girl, Mari, and what happens to both her and her sister over one night in the Tokyo. Here Mari meets people who exist only at night, who have secrets that draw on her own. All of the characters are so well drawn and unique, and could all have been main characters in their own, expanded novel. I enjoyed the un-cliche (is that a word?) portrayal of clever Mari who always wants to better herself, and the full of chatter yet slightly serious Takahashi, a boy she meets on her way. The storyline with Mari's sister Eri is the strange one, and it is the big mystery in the novel which is never quite figured out, however the multiple weaving storylines are so gripping, and I'm not sure how.Although this piece did not make sense a hundred percent, I found it to be so inherently beautiful and enthralling that I couldn't put it down. It opened my eyes up to the Japanese culture which is completely different from anything that I have experienced, and yet the characters and the situation seemed to identifiable. The depiction of the night and the dark was chilling, but also so real and honest. Murakami seemed to do something so hard for a novelist, and condense such a huge theme into such a small work. It is a work that was so broad and yet so condensed I cannot really explain it, and feel that I am just rambling on. It is a work that will stick with me.
This was a book that I got from the library but would love to buy in paperback, it was so good. I've never really been that into magical realism, but I am most certainly into Murakami, so I would certainly like to give his works a try. Norwegian Wood is number one on my list for now, one that I will definitely have to purchase in the near future.
What is it about? I don't know, and I think it will take me a while to process. Right now I'm thinking secrets, and what of ourselves we choose to reveal to the world and what we hide.
Would I recommend? Yes, 100%.
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