A million words

Oh happy days!

Mon, 17 Dec 2007 19:14:44 +0100

I couldn't resist sneaking in this little moment of personal pride! This week has been fabulous. I found out that I got a Distinction in both my OU courses ('The Art of English' and 'Approaching Literature') - a very pleasant surprise! So that boosted my morale and motivation for my final course that is currently underway.

What's more, I became an auntie again today! My eldest brother has - finally! - become a dad at the age of 37. A much-wanted and much-loved daughter. I can't wait to go and see the little cherub. So congratulations all round, I think!

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The Memory Keeper's Daughter - Kim Edwards

Wed, 12 Dec 2007 22:03:50 +0100

For a novel that was in the New York Times bestseller list for over 60 weeks, and was given the accolade of 'Richard and Judy Bookclub Summer Read' (a title with varying degrees of esteem depending on the individual), I expected a page-turning beauty of a book. Can you sense the disappointment?

Edwards has taken a premise with wonderful promise and crushed it into a protracted yawn - sorry, yarn - that is woefully unfulfilling. David Henry makes an erroneous decision to secretly send his baby girl, born with Down Syndrome, to an institute whilst leading his wife to believe she died in childbirth. The girl, who his wife Norah would have named Phoebe, is instead unofficially adopted by the nurse who was present at the birth. The story should have been about the heart-rending impact that David's deceit had on everybody's lives, including Phoebe who matures into an independant and lovable young woman. Instead it's a lengthy narrative that merely follows each character as the decades pass; and the superficiality of the characters inspires little but a 'who cares?' response from the reader.

The characters have so much potential. Sadly, Edwards fails to develop them and engender sympathy, or even empathy, with David, his family or Phoebe. It would have taken a skilled wordsmith to manipulate the story and character and, unfortunately, Edwards possesses no such craft.

The book displays fleeting evidence of Edwards' considered use of language, but most of the time the pages are filled with superfluent descriptions and showy, tired metaphors. It becomes apparent that Kim Edwards was a graduate of writer's school - although she would have failed miserably if following the rules outlined in George Orwell's 1946 essay: 'Never use a metaphor...or a long word when a short one will do...break any of these rules [rather than say anything] barbarous'.

Maybe I'm being too harsh. Yet it was a huge effort to finish this book which, at almost 500 pages long, is at least twice the length it ought, and needs, to be. When characters reminisced or scenes were described, I switched off. I found the flowery language all too excessive. You can almost feel Edwards' effort in every word...'Metaphor? Check. Simile? Check. Sentimental schmaltz? Check.'

After spending weeks (which was most unlike me) ploughing through the book (after the half-way point, I felt like I'd vested so much time into it I had no option but to continue) i reached the end. And was so disappointed! After such a build-up, after reams of narrative, it climaxed and...well, I won't spoil it for you if you want to read this over-inflated book for yourself. Needless to say, it's not on my list of recommendations.

The Memory Keeper's Daughter is like a reunion of friends. So much waiting, eagerness and such potential and yet, in reality, it's forced and feels rather a let-down.

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Just because you're 'famous' doesn't mean you should write an autobiography!

Wed, 05 Dec 2007 20:06:18 +0100

Dear celebrity and/or non-entity,

It has been brought to my attention that because you've appeared in Heat magazine you felt compelled to write your life story. Or possibly you've married somebody famous or discarded your clothes on Big Brother (why bother?). Whatever - if you're below the age of 40 and have no discernible talent then stop wasting precious shelf space! You do NOT qualify for an auto-biography. In fact, it's dubious whether it could be called that because I'm sure you couldn't string a sentence together to write it yourself.

Coleen Mclaughlin - because your boyfriend plays football you've acquired celebrity status and are renowned for your shopping 'skills'. Granted, you appear to care deeply for your sister and i'm sure you do some charity work, but you've barely turned 21! Scarcely into adulthood! What the hell do you have to say in a book about your life?

Chantelle - somebody actually had the tenacity...no, scrap that, you won't understand...the time to waste on writing your biography? Let's get this straight. You appear on celebrity big brother despite not being a celebrity. You pout and flick your straw hair. You marry an entertainer (singer? musician? all dubitable) and within a year you're divorced. Your talents are...erm...leave it with me...

Katie Price/Jordan - you really know how to milk the sour cow of celebrity. TWO AUTOBIOGRAPHIES? TWO?!! Ye of the over-inflated breasts and ego. Yes, you with the boobs. That's all you'll be known for. You tried your hand at singing but the whole new world withered. Your 'chat show' can only be called such when placed in inverted commas. The sad thing is that little girls look up to the glitz that your glamour lifestyle has provided. To read about your sexual exploits and derogatory comments concerning ex-bed-companions is to waste precious time. You've proved to have an astute business sense - you know that sex sells - but that doesn't mean you QUALIFY to write TWO autobiographies.

I could go on. We live in a society where fame comes (and goes) easily. To be famous does not equate to having a talent or skill. Reality TV shows have fuelled this synthetic vanity and have much to answer for.

I'm currently reading 'The Death and Life of Sylvia Plath'. The wife of the poet Ted Hughes, Sylvia was a depressive but gifted writer whose short life was ended by the very hands that earned her fame and fortune. I've read Nelson Mandela's autobiography too...now HE has one heck of a story to tell. Take note, non-entities.

Heather

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Gents

Wed, 28 Nov 2007 21:59:11 +0100

By Warwick Collins

With a title like this, many readers wouldn't even pick this book off the shelf. However, it's surprisingly endearing even to somebody like me who has no penchant for such apparent amoral action!

The plot centres on Ez Murphy, a man with stout religious views and a reliable wife. Ez lands a new job as an attendant/cleaner in an inner-city 'Gents'. Here he is affronted by the illicit rendez-vous that the 'reptiles' indulge in. The cubicle-sharing is not due to lack of facilities... Ez is forced to address his presumptuous abhorrence at this white man's sin when he sees a black man, just like him, emerging from a cubicle behind a suited businessman. We follow Ez's emotions, in the unusual setting of a (pristine!) public convenience, as he wrestles with the moral and religious conundrum which he encounters almost daily.

'Gents' is a short book and Collins' style is readable. It is neither pretentious nor patronising. We soon feel readily acquainted with Ez and able to empathise with his disconcerted state. Collins ensures that the reader is ensnared by creating characters with whom we sympathise. This does, of course, impact on the plot.

The pace is patchy. Little actually happens in 'Gents' other than brief encounters (of the dirty kind) and an unforeseen dinner party with Ez, his wife and Ez's colleagues. This is all well and good in rich works of art so exemplified by Katherine Mansfield (if you haven't heard of her then shame on you...she was an early 20th century trend-setter!). Here, however, we're left feeling slightly unaffected. The characters are believable and the situation that Ez finds himself is identifiable. However, the prose lacks in emotional depth and subtle dexterity to inspire every reader that opens its covers.

VERDICT: A quick read that may leave you with a quirky sense of satisfaction, marred by an aftertaste of apathy.

YOU'LL LIKE THIS IF YOU LIKE: The stylistic simplicity of 'The Alchemist' (Paulo Coelho) or straightforward attempt at portraying moral dilemmas found in the works of Jodi Picoult. And, of course, if you like reading about 'cottaging'...although don't expect the gory details!

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