Hundraåringen som klev ut genom fönstret och försvann – Jonas Jonasson

jonassonSå har jeg altså endelig også lest om hundreåringen som ‘klev ut genom fönstret och försvann’. Siden boka nærmest er blitt geniforklart i enkelte kretser er jeg ganske fornøyd med at jeg klarte å lese den med relativt åpent sinn. Som regel gjør slik hype at jeg enten ikke klarer å få begynt på ei bok i det hele tatt eller at jeg tror på hypen og blir skuffet fordi boka ikke lever opp.

Hundraåringen er blitt omtalt som en ‘humrebok’, og humre gjorde jeg. Jeg lo til og med høyt minst en gang. Persongalleriet er (stort sett) sympatisk, det gjelder ikke minst Allan Karlsson – hundreåringen selv – som etter et mer enn gjennomsnittlig begivenhetsrikt liv havner  på gamlehjem i en alder av 99 og bestemmer seg for at det nå kan være nok, nå vil han dø. Men det å dø sånn uten videre er ikke så lett, så etter noen måneder, på sin egen hundreårsdag, faktisk, klatrer han altså ut vinduet og begir seg ut på et nytt eventyr.

Halvveis forsøkte jeg å sammenfatte boka for min bedre halvdel, og endte med å karakterisere den som en blanding av en Arto Paasilinna-bok og Forest Gump. Det høres kanskje litt merkelig ut, men det fungerer aldeles utmerket som underholding.

Å andra sidan låg ju Spanien i utlandet, precis som alla länder gjorde, Sverige undantaget, och efter att ha läst om utlandet i hela sitt liv vore det inte så dumt att få uppleva det på riktigt någon gång.

(Side 76) Og der ligger kanskje kjernen i min omtale av boka: Dette er lett underholdning. Visst humrer man, visst finnes det spark til øvrigheta og til A4-livet og visst kan man sikkert dra ut en og annen (om enn ganske banal) livsvisdom av det hele. Men jeg føler liksom ikke at jeg sitter igjen med noe særlig etter endt lesing.

Det er da heller ikke noe krav, så ikke la deg skremme av det. Boka anbefales absolutt som f.eks. ferielektyre, eller som et feelgood avbrekk i hverdagen om du vil.

Disgrace – J. M. Coetzee

coetzee

(I guess it would be appropriate to start this with a trigger warning for rape.)

Disgrace was our February read in the bookcircle, which is probably just as well because I don’t think I’d ever have read it (and certainly not finished it) of my own accord.

David Lurie is an ageing professor at a university in Cape Town, teaching Communications since his orginial subject – literature – has been deemed too old-fashioned and the department shut down. He falls in lust with one of his students and has an affair of sorts with her, but is subsequently accused of harassment (rightly so, I should say). He refuses to apologise and therefore loses his job. To get away from it all he goes to visit his daughter Lucy, who lives «the simple life» in the Eastern Cape. She has help on the farm from Petrus, who is also developing the land next-door. David and his daughter do not have an easy relationship, it is clear that while he loves her, he does not approve of the way she choses to live her life. He does, however, get involved in her daily routine. That routine is broken when a gang of three attack the farm, stealing anything of value, setting fire to David and – David believes and we with him – gang-raping Lucy. After the attack, the differences between father and daughter increase, he wants her to get out of there while she wants to stay.

To start with I was pleasantly surprised. I liked David more than I had expected to, and although I did not approve of his relationship to Melanie (parts of which were dangerously close to rape), I rather liked his refusal to «issue an apology» – regardless of whether he meant it or not – in order to save the university’s face and keep his position. Most of all I liked his way with words, and up until half-way through the novel I have marked several quoteworthy passages.

His temperament is not going to change, he is too old for that. His temperament is fixed, set. The skull, followed by the temperament: the two hardest parts of the body.

After that, though… At some point «liking» David becomes impossible. As far as trying to understand his daughter, well, he says he’s trying, but he is not, really. However, I don’t really like Lucy, either. I found her somewhat, well «boring» is not quite the correct word, but certainly not terribly interesting. All honour to her for chosing the simple life and being happy with it, but for one I felt her resignation to Petrus’ encroachment had started long before the attack, and I also to a large extent disapprove of her handling of the attack just as much as her father does (though with an understanding that it would not have been my business to approve or disapprove, had this been real life, which he lacks).

And I do need someone to root for when I read, and there really isn’t anyone once I lose all respect for David. Which is one problem.

The other problem is that I really don’t understand what Coetzee wants with this book. What is he trying to say? I do realise this may say as much about me as about Disgrace, but still, it’s my blog, so I will say it: The whole thing seems somewhat pointless to me. And it leaves a sour taste, too, as I feel that Lucy – much as I fail to really like her I do not wish her harm – is sacrificed in order to make a point about David’s relationship to his daughter specifically and humanity in general. The attack is used to turn the spotlight on David’s feelings and actions, rather than as the highligth of a plotline in itself. I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t approve of rape as a literary device, especially one that just showcases the emotional angst of middle-aged white males.

Still, there is meat here, and I can sort of see why the novel is so celebrated. For me, though, it’s a thumbs down.

Flere bokjøp

I dag var jeg innom et bokloppis annonsert på facebookgruppen Loppemarkeder i Trondheim. Det viste seg å være overskuddslageret til Sirkulus som var tilgjengelig for «browsing», og jeg gikk derfra med fem bøker:

  • Paradisgaten – Richard Herrmann
  • Over til London – Richard Herrmann
  • Anger – Roy Jacobsen
  • Vi var med Charles Darwin på Beagleekspedisjonen
  • Den nysgjerrige abboren – Elsa Beskow

Særlig Jacobsen var jeg fornøyd med. Den så nesten ulest ut (er nok maks lest – pent – en gang), og er en av bøkene i Mammutkatalogen jeg vurderte, men bestemte meg for å se om jeg kunne få til halv pris av Mammutpris. Nå fikk jeg den til 30 kroner i stedet. Helt greit.

oksendal
Bøker jeg ikke kjøpte, kanskje står de fortsatt og venter på nettopp deg i morgen?

Etterpå fant jeg ut at jeg skulle ta en sving innom Notabene i Dronningensgate – Øksendal, som butikken er kjent som lokalt, samme hvilken kjede den tilhører – for å se på Notabenekjedens salg, siden de har eget og ikke er med på Mammutsalget. Men der ble jeg møtt med plakater om 70 % på hele butikken. Den skal altså legges ned. Det er jo trist, men jeg benyttet meg av sjansen og handlet for over 400 kroner. Nå angrer jeg selvsagt at jeg ikke tok meg tiden til å svinge innom der på mandag, siden de utplukkede hyllene vitnet om at de har holdt på med opphørssalg noen dager… Akk ja.

  • Blekkblod og Blekkdød – Cornelia Funke (jeg har lest den første på engelsk, men siden de uansett er oversatt fra tysk tenkte jeg norsk var like greit)
  • Kaptein Blåbjørns 13 1/2 liv – Walter Moers
  • Steintre – Gyrðir Elíasson
  • Den sommeren pappa ble homo – Endre Lund Eriksen
  • Når prinser blir hjemme – Per Gustavsson
  • Orm og Øgle og Venner: Orm og Øgle – Joy Cowley og Gavin Bishop

Her skal man legge til at noen av bøkene var på tilbud i utgangspunktet og 70 % avslag på tilbudspris kan bli veldig billig, Kaptein Blåbjørn betalte jeg for eksempel hele 7,50 for og den er på 689 sider. Her snakker vi valuta for pengene!

I tillegg kjøpte jeg fargeblyanter og tre Josefinedataspill. Det vil nok ungen sette pris på når hen får vite det…

A little bit of shopping – London and Mammut

Well, for once I did not come home from London with a suitcase full of books. In fact, the sum total of bookshops I visited in London per se was zero, zilch, not one. I hear your gasps of shock and horror, and I agree. But we were there to be touristy tourists to please a certain six-yearold, and shopping was not something we really got around to (well, excepting Hamleys, but that’s not so much a shop as a toy museum where you can buy the exhibited toys. Or something).

Anyway, at the not very impressive but I make do whith what I find newsagent at Gatwick, I purchased John Green’s The Fault in our Stars. Even I have to read Green sooner or later, though I wonder if it can live up to the hype. I sure hope it can, because it sounds lovely. Since it was «Buy one get one half price» I also purchased Underground Overground: A Passengers History of the Tube by Andrew Martin. It sure looks interesting – and I love the vintage feel of the cover:

undergroundOg så var det Mammut. Jeg har notert meg en lang liste over norske romaner som jeg har tenkt å se etter om det blir noe halv pris på Mammut-pris eller noe slikt, men siden jeg egentlig helst vil ha paperbacks for tiden gidder jeg ikke kjøpe hardbacks til 149,- og oppover. Det vil si, jeg sikler på Askildsens samlede, og ender vel med å kjøpe Jo Nesbøs Gjenferd, siden jeg har alle de andre i hardback…

Men noen barnebøker ble det, og noen få til oss voksne også:

  • Mattemagi – Håvard Tjora
  • Charles Darwin og Beagleekspedisjonen – A. J. Wood
  • Speil for tidens ansikt: Gullvågportretter 1979-2009 – Harald Stanghelle
  • Charlie og sjokoladefabrikken – Roald Dahl (pop-up bok)
  • Klaffeatlas – Alex Frith & Kate Leake
  • Kunstdetektivene 3-i-1 – Bjørn Sortland (ekstratilbud på Ark Trondheim Torg)
  • Moi om kvelden – Endre Lund Eriksen & Khim Tengesdal (ill.)
  • Mannen, menneskets beste venn – Karine Haaland
  • Tambar og sjøormen – Tor Åge Bringsværd & Lisa Aisato (ill.)
  • Kollektivet: Kollektivt sammenbrudd – Torbjørn Lien
  • Alvin Pang og en søster for mye – Endre Lund Eriksen & Olve Askim (ill.)

Katie in London – James Mayhew

katieinlondonI keep meaning to blog more about the books we read with the lass, so while I remember:

I was tipped off about Katie in London, and I’m very glad I was. The plot is hardly revolutionary: Katie goes to London to see the sights with her little brother and her grandmother, but before they really see anything, grandma wants a rest on a bench at Trafalgar Square. Katie and her brother therefore travel around London with one of the lions instead. They see St. Pauls, the Tower, Tower Bridge, the London Eye, the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace and Hyde Park.

Like most kids (and some adults), the lass tends to enjoy something more if she’s heard about it a lot. So reading books about a place before going there is good. The internet, and especially YouTube is good too.

From that point of view, this book fulfills its purpose beautifully. And while it is not great literature, neither is it bad in any way, it fits its audience without being (too) tedious for the grown-up who has to read aloud.

London – Edward Rutherfurd

london_edward_rutherfurdI’m finally done! And the reason it took so long is really none of Rutherfurd’s fault (well, except in writing such a thick book, though I’ve read worse), but simply because life, really.

Anyway, I liked it. I felt I learned quite a bit, which is nice, though I must admit my head is not made for remembering dates, so I got confused several times and had to search backwards to a page with a date on it. Several people on Goodreads have complained that since it spans such a lot of time and events there is no time to get to know the characters, but I found that to be a minor problem – and I do tend to dislike being rushed on to a new set of characters just when I’ve gotten interested in the present set. This is why I’m not a major fan of short-stories. But Rutherfurd’s trick is to stick to a few families, and to give them somewhat hereditary traits – not just physical, but also of temperament – so that one the whole you can tell from the name of a character whether he/she will be a «hero», a «villain» or someone bumbling but generally well-meaning for example. Well, towards the end the families intermarry and intermingle and it all gets somewhat complicated, but by then I was hooked anyway, and there was still a sense of «I will root for you since your grandfather was so nice» or perhaps «I will root for you since your father was so shitty».

I had one small, but niggling quarrel with the book, though. I may have mentioned that I’ve learnt pretty much all the history I know from novels, which makes this a perfect fit. And more than anything, I love the little daily-life details. The «how a Roman forged coins», for example. Interesting stuff, I tell you. But I need to trust the author, I need to believe he (or she) knows what he (or she) is talking about. And therefore passages such as this one throws me:

But Dame Barnikel was happiest of all when she was brewing ale, and sometimes she would let young Ducket watch her. Having bought the malt – «it’s dried barley,» she explained – from the quays, she would mill it up in the little brewhouse loft. The crushed malt would fall into a great vat which she topped up with water from a huge copper kettle. After germinating, this brew was cooled in throughs, before being poured into another vat.

(Page 524) Except barley (or any grain) won’t germinate after it’s been milled. In fact, «malt» isn’t dried barley, it’s barley that has germinated and is then dried, and there is a crucial difference. «Dried barley» is just a grain whereas the germination means the «malt» is bursting with sugars which is what the yeast later feeds on in the process that actually makes alchohol. What happens after you mill is quite rightly that you add hot water to the «coarse flour» (called «grist»), but that water is meant to extract the sugars (and partly set off enzymes that convert even more of the starches into sugars to be extracted, if you want to get really technical) in a process called mashing.

And I know it’s a very, very small detail and not at all important to the story, but it grates, and it makes me wonder where else he’s tripped up and which details I now think I’ve learnt turn out to be less than accurate.

But let’s return to happier thoughts, because I really did like the book, and end with a quote which is really a much better representation of Rutherfurd’s skill:

And so with confidence he could give his children these two important lessons: «Be loyal to the king.» And perhaps profounder still: «It seems that God has chosen us. Be humble.»

By which, of course, he really meant: be proud.

(Page 787)

London – Tor Åge Bringsværd

london_bringsværdNå har jeg i alle fall lest den ene London-boka. Siste halvpart av Rutherfurd får bli med på turen (ja, jeg har begått bokmord, jeg har splittet den tjukke paperback’en i to med papirkniv). Men Bringsværd hadde jeg jo lånt på biblioteket, så han får bli igjen hjemme (hel og fin).

Det var et hyggelig gjensyn. Dette er ikke en reiseguide, akkurat, selv om du sikkert kan legge opp en tur helt og holdent etter Bringsværds anbefalinger. Her er anekdoter, pubanbefalinger og historieforelesninger i et herlig sammensurium, akkurat slik jeg liker det. Og nå GLEDER jeg meg til å sitte på pub i London og bare være der. Ok, det gledet jeg meg vel til uansett, men jeg gleder meg enda mer nå. Kanskje kommer jeg til å føle at Tor Åge Bringsværd er med meg i ånden, så kan vi prate litt om Brumm og om Themsen og slikt mens vi sitter der. Det blir bra.

En dag her i Kew Gardens er en glitrende avkobling – selv for dem som ikke tror de er interessert i hager … for det å sitte ved et utebord ved Pavillion Restaurant (avmerket med nr 31 på gratiskartet du får ved inngangen), drikke kaffe eller hva vet vel jeg, se barn som leker på gresset under skyggefulle trær – og innimellom la øynene hvile på en gigantisk kinesisk pagode som ikke har noen som helst dypere mening, men bare er satt der fordi det passet seg slik … jeg mener, mye kan man si om en slik dag, men bortkastet er den i hvert fall ikke!

(s. 259)

Well, it’s good to have plans

I guess.

In two weeks we’re going to London. This, of course, is worthy of a big squeeeeeeeee.

The main purpose of the visit is for the lass to get to ride on the top deck of a double decker bus. As good a reason as any for going to London, methinks. No?

I am also looking forward to a ride or two on a routemaster. And to showing the lass London in all its glory. Or fogginess, perhaps, it will be February after all. So to prepare we have been searching for books to read her, knowing from experience (namely Copenhagen and Karsten og Petra i København) that anything you recognise from a book is more fun than anything you don’t. The pickings are meagre, but we have a children’s guide to London and an I Spy London, which are both excellent for having lots of pictures, and a Paddington in London picture book, which is charming, but not really very fit for the purpose. However, I just ordered Katie in London from Adlibris, which looks very promising.

So I got to thinking perhaps I, too, should read something Londonish? So I went to look for Bringsværd’s London book on the shelf, but alas, it is not there. I have no idea where it has gone! Disaster! I solved the immediate problem by getting it out from the library, but seriously: Where is our copy? The library also furnished me with Doktor Proktor og det store gullrøveriet, which is partly set in London. Or so the librarian told me.  She suggested it for the lass, but we haven’t read the first Doktor Proktor books for her yet, so I think it will have to wait. I might read it myself, though, since I have read the others.

And from our own shelves: London by Edward Rutherfurd. So there is that.

Three books then. I started Rutherfurd, and it is good. It is also almost 1300 pages, so in order to finish it by the time we leave I have to read an average of 100 pages a day or so. So far I’ve been averaging 30 or so. So much to do, so little time. Not looking too good, in other words. I can do it if I don’t do anything else (like finishing the 2012 photo book which I’m working on and which will be a late Christmas present for the grandparents – as well as for ourselves, but I suppose it could wait). We’ll see.

But, anyway: London!

Squeeeeeeee!

Go Tell it on the Mountain – James Baldwin

Phew. Done. Now, perhaps I can stop humming that bl**dy song every waking hour.

Well.

Go Tell it on the Mountain was picked as this month’s read for our bookclub by the simple expedient of pointing randomly into the shelves at Krambua* which are furnished with second-hand books. Not a bad result, really, it could probably have been much, much worse (I wasn’t at that meeting, so I don’t know what else is on those shelves, but I’ll check next time).

It’s James Baldwin’s first novel, and a good read. The quotes on my copy says he knows the Harlem language, which I have no reason to doubt. It’s almost always easier to point out what I don’t like about a book than what I do, so excuse me if this is a bit lopsided, but here goes: For one thing, I had a hard time keeping apart the events happening in Harlem and the events happening in «the south». The first setting is immensly urban, the second, as far as I can tell, is supposed to be rural. The pictures in my head, though, were mostly a sort of mix-up with a bit of spagetti western clap-board towns thrown in for good measure. The latter I take full responsibility for, but I feel Baldwin has to shoulder some of the blame for not making the settings distinct enough. Though it could be argued that he was doing it on purpose to show that nothing really changes and you can take the boy out of x, but never the x out of the boy or something. That would not sit well with the blurb on my copy claiming Baldwin deals with the old generation versus the new generation and the change in values, however Balwin can’t be blamed for the blurb, and I think the blurb-writer was a bit off in any case, it seems to me the old generation and the new have a lot in common and it’s down to individuals to make change. So there is that. The second quarrel I had is that I felt the novel ended somewhat prematurely. Perhaps I just didn’t understand it, but, well, I sort of wanted a bit MORE to happen. Like some of this change, which is in the air the whole way through, but which doesn’t really materialise.

Still and all, I gave it four out of five stars on Goodreads.

And I’m ticking off all sorts of things: A new to me author makes it the first book in my Boktolva, and surely, surely it can be called a classic? Well, it’s a 1001 book, so I call it a classic. And I guess I’m a bit early for black history month, but it seems a fitting read to celebrate the second inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama (who I have great hopes for now that he doesn’t need to worry about reelection).

The Sandman: Season of Mists and A Game of You – Neil Gaiman

I’ve had The Sandman on my wishlist for a while, and got some for Christmas 2011 (which I read at the beginning of 2012, but neglected to blog about) and two for Christmas 2012. However, I had to exchange one because I goofed, I put vol. 3 onwards on my wishlist, but I already had 3. Luckily, Outland were nice about it and let me exchange vol. 3 for vol. 5, so I have now just finished vol. 4 Season of Mists and vol. 5 A Game of You.

Every volume I have read so far is beautiful in its own way. The cast of characters, both the recurring ones and the ones who appear in only one storyline, are by turns electrifying, charming, terrifying and lovable, but always fascinating. The themes are far-reaching and open ended, leaving more questions than they answer. Gaiman borrows lavishly from pretty much every mythology, and puts his loot to good use.

And on top of that the illustrators do their job beautifully throughout.

In Season of Mists, Dream of the Endless accidentally (sort of) aquires the key to hell, and much chaos ensues while he tries to figure out what to do with it. Along the way we get chilling images of boarding school life as well as philosophical musings on the role of hell and humankind’s need for punishment.

IMG_7239

A Game of You appeals to me even more, with its captivating set of somewhat lost humans getting involved in something far beyond their conscious imaginings.

It’s hard to say much more without spoilers, I find. I’ll leave it there.