Problogue

Hello, and welcome, whether you've stumbled upon this by accident, or have followed a link that I've posted up on Facebook, Twitter or something.

I've recently found myself in the position of being long on time and short on things to do, so have decided to better myself by reading the full shortlist to this year's Booker Prize - a task I haven't tackled before. Having decided to do this, I thought I might as well write down my thoughts, both for personal posterity and in case anyone is interested in knowing my opinions on the various books. With six books to tackle, and 34 days in which to do it, I'd better get started.

The shortlist comprises:

'Parrot And Olivier In America' by Peter Carey
'Room' by Emma Donoghue
'In A Strange Room' by Damon Galgut
'The Finkler Question' by Howard Jacobsen
'The Long Song' by Andrea Levy
'C' by Tom McCarthy

And I'll tackle the books in this order - alphabetically by author - for the sole reason that I haven't yet got a copy of 'C' (it's on order).

I hope you enjoy my thoughts on the books. And with no further ado, it's time to begin...

Conclusion

So, one month, six books, and a lot of thinking to do. Not knowing anything about any of the books (and, Carey aside, any of the authors), I went in with an open mind, and I enjoyed the process a lot. Five of the six books were very enjoyable, and I'd certainly like to read some of the previous works of the authors involved.

The shortlist was varied, with settings from early America to contemporary London, and very different styles of writing, themes raised and emotions evoked.

The book that had the strongest emotional effect on me was 'Room' - perhaps unsurprisingly. It was a story that quickly captured me and that was difficult to put down without finishing. Clearly it's not a book to gladden the heart, but as a demonstration of the power of literature it was a fine work.

'Parrot and Olivier', 'In A Strange Room' and 'The Long Song' were all very enjoyable, well crafted and telling interesting and relevant stories with universal, uniting themes that were easy to follow and captivating. None of these books were too forceful in their approach, they let the stories flow slowly and were well-written.

I didn't enjoy 'The Finkler Question', but it was certainly well-written; as my review says, I just didn't quite get the point of it, and didn't find the tone quite right.

Which brings us onto 'C'. It's a huge favourite with the bookies, and I can see why; of the six books it is the one that seems to be the most full of information and is a tangled web of strands that are hard to separate. Reading it, though, one has the feeling that it may be a masterpiece, just one that is too complicated on the first reading to appreciate. The tightness of the writing contrasts with the more leisurely style of some of the other entries, while the sheer number of themes involved is impressive.

I think 'C' will win. It's not the book that has had the biggest effect on me, but it's the book that I'm most likely to read again, and the book I most want to read about (I haven't read any other reviews since starting this exercise, so may have missed the point in a few!). 'Room' is the book that stirred my emotions the most, but I think Tom McCarthy will be the man celebrating this evening.

Thanks for reading the reviews, it's been fun.

Toby

C - Tom McCarthy

This dense, wide-ranging novel is packed with different strands that recur, cross over and combine to create something that is highly complex – too complex indeed for a single reading.

The book follows the life of Serge Carrefax, the son of a faintly wacky scientific innovator whose work concentrates on the biggest scientific development of the early 20th century – the first communications revolution. As Simeon, Serge’s father, creates grand plans for sending voices and images over wires, Serge’s deaf mother runs a silk business. Serge and his sister, Sophie, are encouraged to be academically inquisitive, and the whole household is something like an academic Royal Tenenbaums, with various funny incidents and curious relationships.

Serge is socially distant, sharing a rivalry with his precocious sister, but seemingly having few interactions outside the household. As he progresses through life, including time in a German health spa, a descent into hard drug use as a pilot during WWI and finally as a researcher/spy in Egypt, we see him continually finding more fulfilment from his inner voices than from relationships with others. Indeed, Serge seems to see the outside world as somewhere distinct from his own sphere, a place that he is merely observing from afar – spying on reality to report back to his own imagination.

Communication is a key theme, with frequent references to codes hidden within newspapers, to Morse Code, to séances ‘communicating’ with the dead, and of course to the new possibilities that radio and telephonic communication brings. Serge’s father, when he is not experimenting with new technology, runs a school for the deaf that promises to teach its pupils to speak, through understanding that speech is a matter of shaping’s once mouth and expelling vibrations of air – bringing communication to those who were previously mute.

‘Vibrations’ is one of a number of recurring words within the book that cause the reader to tie strands of the story together and which give the impression that the reader is involved in a masterplan that is obvious only to the author. These words, such as ‘soma’, ‘beetle’, ‘tumour’, ‘perspective’ and various references to Greek literature, often passed over my head, suggesting that this is a book that may well reveal more on the second reading.

McCarthy’s writing is jam-packed, with not a word wasted, and seemingly every single sentence carefully planned so as to tie in with the overall game that is played on the reader. It’s not an easy book to read as a result, and requires work and patience. As an overall work it’s impressive – if only I could work out quite what it all means!

The Long Song - Andrea Levy

This is a story about the last days of slavery in Jamaica, containing a general look at the concept of status and its perception.

July is the daughter of a female slave; her father a white farm overseer who never recognises July as his own. Her mother, Kitty, lives a tough and depressing existence harvesting the sugar crop, and July seems destined for the same life. One day, however, July catches the eye of the property owner's sister, and is brought into the house - a promotion in terms of ease of life and status within the slave community - to work as her maid. The book, written autobiographically by a middle-aged July, looks back on these days.

In 1834 slavery was abolished by Queen Victoria, although all slaves were required to work a 4 year 'apprenticeship'. Thereafter any workers retained required payment and were free to move. As the book takes us through this period, we see the attitudes of the characters changing, with the former slaves increasingly content to challenge their former masters, now their legal employers. Meanwhile, attitudes amongst the white population differ as to how far to extend civil rights to the locals. In particular it is shown that the stick remains a more useful tool than the carrot in these early, shifting days of universal freedom.

Earlier in the book we are introduced to a former slave who, having stolen from his master, is able to purchase his freedom (for £200), and smugly struts around the area, satisfied in the knowledge of his perceived higher social class. The white population, however, make little distinction when sharing their contempt for the locals. Meanwhile, the slaves compete through their owners - teasing the slaves of others for being unattractive, or poorer than their own. Post-abolition, class is determined by racial make-up, with characters keen to emphasise their relative lightness of skin and disconsolate to find their mixed-race children darker-skinned than they had hoped.

In this remote enclave of the Empire, the white settlers also compete to be socially superior, with every detail of a dinner party scrutinised for flaws or suggestions of poverty. Ill-disciplined or untalented slaves bring shame to a household in this small community where gossip is ubiquitous.

Levy writes with a light, casual tone, even when describing some of the darker sides of the period, perhaps befitting July's limited writing experience. She frequently writes conversations phonetically, which is generally easy enough to follow, and slips in the occasional moment of farce to lighten the mood. I enjoyed this book more and more as it went on, and found it interesting to see how, after the revolution of abolition, very little changed in essence - rather like in Orwell's Animal Farm. The historical element was interesting, possibly because I knew little of it previously, but it was the study of status and its universal nature that I appreciated most.

The Finkler Question - Howard Jacobson

This is essentially a study of modern Jewish life, based in contemporary North London, in the context of comfortable, middle-class, middle-aged men.

The 'Finkler' in the title refers to Sam Finkler, one of the three main characters, who is a Jew. His childhood friend Julian (the first syllable of his name clearly deliberate) associates all Jewish topics with Sam, so - in his head - replaces the word Jew with 'Finkler'. One day, dawdling home after dinner with Sam and their former schoolteacher Libor (also Jewish), Julian is mugged. By a woman. And is potentially accused by his assailant of being Jewish.

The shock (and shame) of the incident, and of possibly being the victim of an anti-Semitic act, starts a snowball of ideas and fears within Julian's head. The purpose of the book is to share these ideas with the reader, and they touch upon Israel's actions, the link that British Jews have with Israel, the reliance on the Holocaust as a debating tool and the concept that there are levels of Jewishness. Julian is used by Jacobson as a dummy in these situations, explaining the arguments to the reader by having Julian consider them and be informed by his two Jewish friends.

Some of the arguments presented in the book are interesting and wouldn't have otherwise occurred to me, but I found the plot plodding and too thin a veil for this general discussion of Jewish culture. In a way, I felt that I would have enjoyed the book more if I myself was Jewish, and understood the arguments from the inside. What's more, Jacobson packs in the Jewish/Hebrew jargon, making both ceremonies and banter hard to follow. Perhaps this is intentional, to separate the Gentile reader from the argument and suggest that the issues themselves are difficult to understand for the outsider, but I'm not sure.

Jacobson does write well, and is occasionally witty. But the Daily Telegraph reviewer on the back of the book calls the author 'Our funniest living writer'. I felt that I missed the joke.

'In A Strange Room' - Damon Galgut

This is a trio of travelling tales that reflects on the nature of travel, but also human relationships themselves.

The book presents itself as autobiographical, but with an inconsistent person - the narrator switches between referring to himself as 'he' and 'I'. Throughout the book there are references to the stories being told from memory, allowing occasional hazy details or gaps in information. Each of the stories recounts an experience from long before, all on the road less travelled - Africa, rural Greece and India. The people that the narrator meets shape his experiences, suggesting somewhat that it's not where one is, it is who one is with that really matters.

What I found interesting was the way Galgut described the relationships that travellers build with their peers - people who are often from very different backgrounds and with contrasting personalities unite for a few days or much longer, sharing only an interest in the alien surroundings. These relationships become incredibly deep in a short space of time, but are based on shared experience rather than common values or attitudes. Initially there is always the comfort of strangers, a respite from loneliness, but over time the differences emerge. When circumstance or itinerary leads to a separation, the farewells are heartfelt, but immediately the traveller moves on (literally and emotionally).

What's more, travel is presented as a kind of dream, or an escape from reality that necessitates a change of attitude. In this world relationships are transitory, 'home' is an idea and the plans made deal only with the next few days. Only the locations are permanent. As Galgut writes, 'The roads you went down yesterday are full of different people now, none of them knows who you are...soon your presence, which felt so weighty and permanent, has completely gone.'

Throughout the book the narrator is also looking for a soulmate, someone with which to appreciate travel and to see the sights through the same eyes. Perhaps inevitably, no such person exists (at least not in this book). Frequently the traveller is able to meet those with whom he can communicate wordlessly, through only a look or a twitch, but initial hope of permanent happiness is each time extinguished by reality. What is present, time and time again, is the generosity of strangers and the general goodness of people.

I enjoyed 'In a Strange Room', it's a compact and pleasantly written book that conveys its message over time, in no rush - perhaps like the travel that is being undertaken. It's like an extended chapter from Alain De Botton's 'The Art of Travel', and has a light, dreamy quality that makes it easy to read.

'Room' - Emma Donoghue

Horrifying at times, and often uncomfortable to read, 'Room' is a story of imprisonment that eventually makes one appreciate the scale and complexities of the world we live in.

Jack is a five yr-old boy who has lived his whole life in a 12ft by 12ft garden shed. The only person he has ever spoken to is his mother, although he occasionally catches glimpses of their captor - a middle-aged man who arrives most nights to rape Jack's mother, occasionally bring supplies and take out the garbage. Jack's mother has created the most balanced world possible for her son, inventing activities to pass time and providing loving care, but has avoided explaining that a world exists outside the garden shed (and the television).

Jack narrates the story, allowing us to follow his emotions, keep track of his tantrums, and appreciate how the limited life that he knows is enough for him to be content. This is a life of stability and routine, the only fear being 'Old Nick's visits after dark. With Jack's boundaries being limited for his whole life, the revelation one day that there is a world beyond the walls of 'Room' - with 'real' people that interact with each other - is shocking and hard for him to take in.

Later in the book, Jack meets this outside world, with the difficulties it brings and its requirement for social interaction (an entirely new concept). His dealings with others are awkward to read, and his occasional musings that life in 'Room' may have actually been preferable horrify his mother. For her the prison brings nothing but terrible memories. Jack is portrayed as a freak by the media 'vultures', but - unable to climb stairs, never having had his hair cut and still breast-feeding at 5 - his innocence is affecting, and his introduction to new people and to society as a whole is not a smooth affair.

This is a powerful book. The characters are excellent, particularly the mother, of whom I have written little. There is a quotation on the front cover of my copy, advising the reader to finish the book in one sitting. I did so, and barely saw the time pass. Donoghue's creation of the 'Room' is a dank, depressing place, but Jack's eyes see it with happiness, brushing its horrors under the carpet. Outside the world is normal, but as we discover it with Jack it becomes a complex, busy and noisy maze. The book left me considering quite how much we take for granted around us, and quite how horrific it would be to lose it all.