The Amenities of Book-Collecting and Kindred Affections

Mirthful

In which we are perfectly green with envy – twice.

It’s difficult to help being green with envy, actually, when reading of book-collectors of almost a century ago. Not that I would be able to afford the majority of the current prices quoted by A.E. Newton for items I devoutly desire, he’s already talking thousands of dollars. But the same items today would run into the tens, possibly the hundreds of thousands. I don’t suppose Newton’s copy of Johnson’s Dictionary happens to be on the market just now, but his mention of it is the first point at which I turned pea green – it is the copy inscribed by Johnson himself to Mrs. Thrale. *sigh* I don’t even want to think about the sort of money you’d have to part with to lay your hands on something like that today.

The book is a reasonably diverting and informative read. If you happen to be interested in Johnson, Boswell and «that set» parts of it are positively delightful. And the bits about collecting are instantly recognisable, even if Newton operates on a somewhat different level from us 21st C. mere mortals.

A book about books, what is there to complain about?

And the second point at which my greenness reached perfection? This (emphasis mine):

My interest in Oscar Wilde is a very old story: I went to hear him lecture when I was a boy

The Whore’s Child

Mirthful

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What? Two short-story collections in a row? And I actually enjoyed them? Shocking. Well, I don’t suppose there’s any reason to be surprised that The Whore’s Child was enjoyable. Russo normally is, after all. Though enjoyable might be the wrong word, certainly these stories are enjoyable on a very disturbing level.

Another disturbing thing is that the nun on the front cover of my edition (the same one as the picture above) looks like she’s a character out of The League of Gentlemen – one played by Reece Shearsmith. Really disturbing in ways you can’t imagine unless you’ve seen the show and read the book.

Birthday Party and Other Stories

Mirthful

I don’t seem to mind the fact of them being short-stories so much (I mean, I normally mind enough to avoid reading them) when it comes to Milne. Birthday Party and Other Stories is a rather delightful collection with subjects ranging from the downright chilling (how to commit the perfect murder) to the more typically Milnesque frivolous. And he provides us with a new (well, new to me, anyway, hardly new, really, as the book was published in 1949 – and I have the first edition, in ex-lib, state, sadly, but now I’m getting off topic, where was I? Oh, yes:) theory on how the whole Shakespeare-Bacon thing really happened. Very amusing.

Chloe Marr

Mirthful

One of the novels I found when packing that I just had to read immediately, Chloe Marr (probably available on ABEBooks) is nowhere near as good as Milne’s Two People, but it’s a pleasant read. Even when writing on serious subjects, Milne writes fluff, but it’s good fluff, which makes me happy.

The Amulet of Samarkand

Mirthful

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I don’t know why, but «fantasy» novels in the children’s section usually look a lot more tempting than the ones in the Fantasy & Sci-Fi section. So also with Jonathan Stroud’s The Amulet of Samarkand. The first book in a trilogy. Well, I know I’ve been stupid again, but I think I’ll be able to wait for the paperback editions of book 2 and 3 (3 isn’t even out yet, as far as I can tell). Anyhoo, Amulet is a pretty good read. The main character is a deamon called Bartimaeus, who is also the narrator for much of the book, summoned by Nathaniel, a gifted, but underestimated magician’s appretice. Bartimaeus is charming, if also obnoxious, and the story has a good pace to it. Of the two drawbacks I can put my finger on one is that some characters are introduced mostly to play a role later in the trilogy (at least, that’s what I’m assuming), which makes them feel incidental and unnecessary in this volume, the other that I’m not entirely sure I like Nathaniel much, and as he’s the «hero» of the story, that makes it sort of difficult to root for him. There’s no one else to root for either, except, possibly, the mysterious «Resistance», and they’re not present enough to be a viable alternative. But I’m reading book 2, definitely, just need to find a paperback edition.

Presten – Hanne Ørstavik

Mirthful

Jeg vant en signert utgave av Presten på Bok i Sentrum i høst og tenkte at det vel ville være høflig å lese den. Så nå har jeg fått en påminnelse om hvorfor jeg så sjelden leser ny norsk litteratur. Hanne Ørstavik fikk Brageprisen for denne boka, så man må anta at dette er noe av det beste som kom ut i Norge i fjor, og dersom det er tilfelle må jeg bare si at jeg synes tilstanden er heller laber. Det er ikke det at Presten er noen spesiellt dårlig bok, den er bare ikke spesiellt bra heller, og det synes jeg faktisk at vinneren av Brageprisen burde være.

Hva har jeg så i mot Presten? Vel, hovedproblemet mitt er vel at jeg synes Ørstavik mislykkes kraftig i å røre ved noe «viktig». Jeg prøvde så godt jeg kunne å føle noe mens jeg leste, men det var liksom ikke noe der å føle. Og det er ikke som om hun ikke prøver, hovedpersonen gjentar stadig viktigheten av det sanne og riktige, og poengterer at det sanne ofte ikke er særlig behagelig. Men det eneste ubehaget jeg følte mens jeg leste var kjedsomhet, dette til tross for både selvmord og usmakelige episoder fra Norsk-Samisk historie.

Så, nei, ikke helt fornøyd.

How Mumbo-Jumbo Conquered the World – Francis Wheen

Mirthful

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I found Francis Wheen’s How Mumbo-Jumbo Conquered the World heavy going at first, but once I warmed to it I practically flew through. For some reason I had expected more of a language discussion and less of a political discussion – probably because we purchased the book at the same time as Melvyn Bragg’s The Adventure of English. However, the political stuff is pretty informative and entertaining – occasionally laugh-out-loud funny – too. A few favourite quotes:

‘Keep an open mind!’ broadcasters pleaded when they screeened the bogus Roswell video. The Daily Telegraph, one of the few newspapers which spotted the film as a fake from the outset, had the best riposte: ‘If you open your mind too much, your brain may fall out.’

And Wheen seems to feel about the «England’s Rose» version of Candle in the Wind much in the same way I do myself:

According to Elton John, singing his heart out in Westminister Abbey while mixing metaphors with glorious abandon, she was England’s rose, a candle that never faded with the sunset when the rain set in (as candles so often do) but strode off across England’s greenest hills, its footprints preserved for eternity.

The one thing that’s wrong with the book – and which really got my goat – is that Wheen makes a point of the importance of source-checking regarding David Irving on pages 98/99 (Harper Perennial, 2004, 4th printing), but is himself amiss in this regard. I’m the sort of reader who actually wants super-whatsit numbers next to every quote and a foot- or endnote saying Ibid. the fiftieth time a source is quoted (giving the page number, naturally). On page 85 Wheen quotes Eagleton, but there are no notes for page 85. On page 86 there is a long quote from Eagleton’s essay ‘Where Do Post-Modernists Come From?’ duly noted in the back, but there is no real indication whether the quote on page 85 is from the same source or not – Eagleton not being the least prolific of writers, if it’s not, how do I set about finding it? So while this endnotes-with-page-references may make the text easier to read for people not used to academic papers, I’d have appreciated a properly source-checkable text myself.*

But, it’s worth reading, definitely.

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* The observant reader will have noticed that I have myself omitted page numbers for the two quotes above. I am acutely aware of this and will remedy it asap – it’s just that Martin’s run away with the book.