Night Boat to Tangier by Kevin Barry

I personally thought this book was a tour-de-force and I enjoyed it and would recommend it. I'm so glad this book was so heavily publicized; otherwise I might not have found it. This is a book for lovers of writing style. There's no chance Kevin Barry will run out of words and he uses them the way a jeweler uses gems.

"..She held things unsaid within--sly deposits--and it was her secrecies that enslaved him. They shared a telepathy..As they watched from their eyrie at St. Luke's, the winter crept in with greys and dense mists and the city fell to a drugged slumber. It was moving to watch the city lights burn through the riversmoke at dusk."

"She wanted to go to Maroc and live in one of the camps. She wanted a place that did not know the meaning of her grief.

"She wanted to travel to the far recesses of herself and see what she might find back there."

Two retired drug smugglers wait, and wait, and wait at the Port of Algeciras, waiting for the night boat from Tangier to land. To me, the story is kind of alchemy. (I thought: oh, this is Waiting for Godot .. not just the waiting but the metaphysical nature of Charlie and Moss's musings .. the way Charlie answers his own questions, the questions he poses to the informacionista in the ferry terminal). The patience of Charlie and Moss as they wait is a wearing combination of boredom and longing. By the end of the novel, Barry's "irradiated the dross of life," as my professor said, and granted Charlie and Moss a remarkable, unlikely resilience. I really like this book.

Ayesha At Last by Uzma Jalaluddin

I just finished Ayesha at Last a few days ago and I must say, I am a big fan. The conflict between an arranged marriage and a marriage made for love is explored, as is other aspects of the immigrant experience, giving the novel a needed ballast. On the one hand, I felt the book worked perfectly well as a novel of a young immigrant woman in the West, without the Austen connection; on the other hand, I must admit I was thrilled when the author set up situations that mirrored events in P & P and even included Austen dialogue verbatim (!!! thrilling !!!). Halfway through, I found I could not put it down -- I had to find out what happens! Even though I *knew* what happens!

No Holly for Miss Quinn by Miss Read

Miss Read was recommended to me years ago by a friend and I found this novel quite surprising.

As I began it, I thought, this is a rather twee but very well-written novel of village life. Easy to read but not exactly my cup of tea. I was quite surprised to arrive at the end and discover that it's really a book with a very feminist perspective. I feel a little abashed - I was so effectively fooled until the very end.

The Bensons, a retired couple, acquire Holly Lodge and build an in-law apartment for Mrs. Benson's elderly mother. Sadly, in a matter of months, Mrs. Benson loses first her husband and then her mother. She decides to rent the in-law apartment, and after a suggestion from a friend, rents it to Miss Quinn, personal private secretary to somebody named Barney.

The village is all a-twitter at the arrival of a new inhabitant, and first the vicar, and then others, imagine unmarried Miss Quinn is exactly the person they need to serve their various charitable endeavours:

          '"But what about that nice Miriam Quinn?" he asked of his friend. "We met her the other night at Joan Benson's."

          "But she must be very busy with her job," protested the vicar.

          "She's home by about six.  Why not ask her if she would like the job? She might be glad to meet people."

          The same kindly thought had occurred to other people in Fairacre, particularly those on committees needing secretaries, treasurers, and that vague amorphous quality called "new blood." Here was a clever woman, obligingly free of family ties, in good health and possibly lonely, who could prove a godsend to the various organizations in need of help.

         Henry Mawne was the first to approach Miriam on behalf of the short-staffed Church Fabric Committee.  She welcomed him to her shining house, gave him sherry, sparkled at his jokes, and declined the invitation in the most charming manner.  Henry retired, hardly realizing that he had been defeated.

        The Brownies needed a Brown Owl, the Cubs an Akela. The Women's Institute needed a bookkeeper, as the last one still worked in shillings and pence, and in any case had lost the account book. The Over-Sixties Club could do with a speaker on any subject at any time suitable to Miss Quinn.

        The Naturalists' Association, the Youth Club, the Play Group, the Welfare Clinic, St. Patrick's Choir, and the Sunday School were anxious to have Miss Quinn's presence and support, and Miriam soon realized, with amusement and resignation, that much more hummed beneath Fairacre's serene face than she had imagined.

        Her tact, her charm, and her intelligence, baked by her formidable resolve to keep her life exactly as she wanted it, enabled her to stay clear of any of these entanglements.

        Baffled, and slightly hurt, the villagers retired worsted.

        Mrs. Pringle summed up the general feeling about the newcomer.

        "No flies on Miss Quinn! She knows her own value, that one, but she ain't for sale!"

I find that there are many things to like about this book. It's short: 148 pages. It's funny. It has illustrations. And there are no flies on Miss Quinn!

I actually think this book would make an excellent Christmas present: light-hearted and easy to read. And while the library copy I read was printed in 1976, Miss Read's books are available in paperback.  There seem to be several with a Christmas theme. There's one called "Mrs. Pringle of Fairacre," and now that I know a little about Mrs. Pringle's probity and vocabulary, I'm truly interested in reading a little more about her.
        
I thought "Miss Read" was a very odd name for an author; the only authorial name I can think of that is at all similar is Mrs. Gaskell. So I looked up Miss Read on Wikipedia and learned that her true identity was Dora Jessie Saint, and that "Saint's novels are wry regional social comedies, laced with gentle humour and subtle social commentary. Saint was also a keen observer of nature and the changing seasons."

Life Drawing for Beginners by Roisin Meaney

Limerick, Ireland-based Roisin Meaney is a prolific author, and last week I finished her Life Drawing for Beginners.

When I started reading it, I suddenly realized that its "night class" theme reminded me of a Maeve Binchy favorite, Evening Class, and I looked forward to it with anticipation.

In the opening pages, I found several things I liked:

Audrey, the art teacher at the heart of the story, sets off on a walk because there is no bus in the direction she's going, with a sense of the promise of adventure; along the way, she sees a puppy in the window of a pet shop: this puppy will change her fate. Audrey falls in love with the puppy and takes her home, naming her "Dolly," for Dolly Mixtures, because Dolly is a mixed-breed dog.

Audrey's single and she's secretly hoping that teaching the night class might help her meet a possible partner. We get to know a little bit about her five students, all of whom, we learn, have problems they're working through as well.

By the end of the novel, two of Audrey's students have begun a relationship, another contemplates a move to France, Audrey herself meets someone she's interested in, and one of the students, Irene, leaves her husband.

Irene's story is the most interesting aspect of this novel for me. Irene is a beautiful woman who did not want to have children. When she became pregnant, her husband begged her to have the child, and against her own wishes, she did. When the novel opens, her daughter is a toddler and has an au pair to care for her. Irene is frustrated and lonely because her husband, whom she loves, has withdrawn from her. Irene believes he is punishing her for her lack of interest in her child. Irene fires her au pair, and her daughter starts to regard her with suspicion. This is the backdrop for Irene's decision to leave.

There are book club questions in the back of the book. Question 3: "What do you make of Irene? Is Irene a good person? Why or why not?" I would love to be in a book group meeting and hear what the readers would say.

The interlocking stories of this book remind me very much of Maeve Binchy's work, and I think fans of Binchy would enjoy these books, too. The publisher got blurbs from Barbara Delinsky and Debbie Macomber, but I think Binchy's a better fit.

Dead I May Well Be by Adrian McKinty

I had long wanted to read Adrian McKinty, undoubtedly because I've been reading publicity about Adrian McKinty for years. Lately, McKinty's been tweeting on Twitter, and this reminded me: "Oh, yes, I've been meaning to read McKinty for years; why don't I do that now?"

Although Dead I May Well Be is definitely a thriller, it doesn't have a red and black cover as so many do. Just a photo of a guy lying in bed beside a handgun.

If I'd known what Dead I May Well Be was about, ever, I'd forgotten it by the time I started the book. At first, I thought, "Oh, it's about the Troubles." A few pages later, I realized that this book was really going to be about living in New York as an immigrant, and a gangster, in the 1990s.  And the gangster part ensured that there would be a lot of violence, and my heart just sank. I didn't want to read a book about a man making a living as a gangster.

However, I talked myself into trying to read the book anyway. I was thinking about the fact that I've hated the first chapter of almost every book I've read over the last two or three years; I've come to think of my appraisal at the end of a first chapter as entirely unreliable, or unimportant. I suppose that I used to enjoy crime fiction more than I do today. I suppose, too, that having formed a plan I'm a little reluctant to deviate from it.

A seeming stroke of luck opens the novel. "Belfast confetti," surprisingly, pricdes a windfall for some. Mikey seems to be lucky: another bomb has exploded in Belfast, and he and several other young men hanging out on the street experience a windfall. They're hired to put up replacement glass. A news photographer takes a photograph of the men and Mikey loses his unemployment benefits.

With no prospects for any kind of employment on the horizon, and knowing that his grandmother cannot afford to keep them both on her benefits, he very reluctantly agrees to move to New York and work on the crew of a drug peddler in an Irish part of Harlem.

The description of his barren apartment is a metaphor for how starved of spirit his life is in New York. But it gradually emerges that he, and his acquaintances on the crew, are all graduates of the Troubles. That is, they learned about violence as members of paramilitaries. Early on Mikey comments that the stakes were higher in New York: death instead of kneecapping.  If that knowledge doesn't provide enough dramatic tension, Mikey is having a secret affair with the barely legal, very beautiful, and distant Bridget, girlfriend of his boss's boss. As utterly tragically stupid as this is, the poverty of his inner life, symbolized by the sparseness of his furnishings, makes this more plausible.

That's another thing about this book. It defied my expectations by presenting Mikey's gangster life as a wild veering between colossal stupidity and creative problem-solving.

Mikey commutes on the elevated train to meet up with his crew at the Four Provinces. He reads on the train. One one of his journeys, early in the novel, he reports that he's reading a book about a guy who won't get out of bed. Suddenly, it hit me: he's talking about Oblomov! I couldn't believe it.

He's winking at the reader. Oh my god, I'm the reader! He's winking at me! This is so exciting, I'm beside myself. 

I'm ashamed to respond to pandering, but I couldn't help starting to really like Mikey at that moment.

Later in the book, Mikey offers another cryptic clue to the book he's then reading: "rich people in Long Island, a death." He's reading The Great Gatsby. Mikey's ex-military and sets up observation posts two or three times in the novel. For one, he listens to an audiobook of War and Peace. He opines that later in the novel, he's grateful when a few characters die as the high number of characters was confusing him.

     "The train again. This time it was full of commuters and slightly more cosmopolitan. Harder getting a seat, but I managed in the corner. I got out my paperback. Rich people, Long Island, days gone by. A death.

     "The crowd thinned as we edged out of Manhattan. I put bookshop bookmark in and as I did so I noticed that a note had been written on the back of it. 'Too much reading, not enough f*****.' Bridget's ornamental handwriting. It ticked me off. Bloody dangerous. What if someone in the Four P. says, 'What's that you're reading there, Mike?' grabs the book, the bookmark falls out, sees the scrawl, recognizes it? Jesus. I ripped up the bookmark and dropped it on the floor."

As I read it, I thought, this really reminds me of Dennis Lehane. Cities feature in both writers' work. Like Lehane, McKinty writes wonderful dialogue and uses it to reveal character. There's quite a bit of attitude, for lack of a better word, and real feeling. These writers have something to say. And, it also reminds me a little bit of Ian Rankin. After finishing the novel, I looked back on the shape of the plot and couldn't help feeling that the emotionally cool Bridget owes a little something to Daisy Buchanan in The Great Gatsby.

There's something epic about this action-filled thriller. I find myself thinking it's an epic poem, wrapped in an account of the immigrant experience, wrapped in a thriller. I think that makes this book a literary thriller. This book is witty, clever, sarcastic. When McGinty talks about setting up an observaton post, it makes sense and whether he knows or did the research, it's a success.  feels like a giant statement of bravado. Is it pretentious that McGinty draws your attention to his knowledge and his skill? Perhaps it is, but I think it's also a promise of commitment to literary culture. And I have to admit, I really like this novel.

The Longbourn Letters by Rose Servitova

I've finished The Longbourn Letters by Rose Servitova, and I enjoyed it hugely. What I liked about it most was its consistency in language. Servitova imitates Jane Austen's style in Pride and Prejudice, (and even quotes Austen at points) and her mimicry is inspired and consistent, her style beautiful and engaging. I found her fidelity to the original deeply satisfying. It's a real domestic comedy in which family members, including Mr. Collins, are quite often ridiculous, but one is which the importance of family is emphasized.

It's an epistolary novel, a form I really enjoy, and it's short (150 pages), recording an imagined correspondence between Mr. Bennet, the witty, sarcastic, judgmental and impatient father of the five Bennet girls, and Mr. Collins, his cousin and a socially inept clergyman with a comically pretentious manner.

In the novel, Pride and Prejudice, at a family dinner, Mr. Bennett mocks Mr. Collins' obsequious manner by offering a seemingly innocent question: does Mr. Collins offer "delicate compliments" to Lady Catherine de Bourgh spontaneously or does he practice? Mr. Collins answers the question frankly, by offering that that he does practice in his spare time. Mr. Bennet never betrays through his expression his mockery; the family struggles to hide their mirth.

This gentle mockery is continued in the correspondence of Mr. Collins and Mr. Bennet, and the tone is perfectly maintained throughout. What surprises me is the gradual evolution of a sincere friendship of the two men, despite their great differences (and despite a brief dust-up between the two when Mr. Bennet, urged by Mr. Collins to oppose a match between Kitty and Colonel Fitzwilliam, does absolutely nothing; here, again, Mr. Bennet's talent for doing absolutely nothing seems to benefit his family).

The portrait of Mr. Bennet is entirely consistent with that of Pride and Prejudice, but here is fleshed out so that we learn Mr. Bennet loves a joke, especially those of a practical nature, loves science, and while occasionally sharply satirical in his comments about his wife and daughters, generally accepts them. In Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Bennet is often wry, witty and playful, but is obviously impatient with his wife and daughters. Servitova's exploration of Mr. Bennet's character presents him as a man who enjoys science, etc., softening some of Mr. Bennet's hard edges. The Longbourn Letters suggests the being the only male in a family with six women has the potential to be quite lonely.

Fans of Pride and Prejudice will, I think, enjoy learning the eventual fate of the entire family and I imagine that must have been fun for Servitova to imagine these stories and share them.This is my favorite "Jane Austen spin-off" novel that I've ever read. For fans of Pride and Prejudice, I imagine that it will be pure entertainment.

Roadfood by Jane and Michael Stern

Jane and Michael Stern are a (formerly) married couple who've become famous for their guide to roadside dining throughout the U.S.

Roadside attractions are such a popular topic in the media that you often see them featured on Facebook and Twitter, and on TV shows, and over the years (40),  Jane and Michael Stern have gotten a lot of publicity. Something reminded of this book which I had always meant to read. I knew the library would have it, and they did.

I was surprised to see that I have not been to even one of the restaurants listed in the book in my part of the world.

First of all, I don't know what my expectation of this book was exactly: I supposed I thought that there'd be roadside places, on major highways, sometimes in rural areas, and that the food would be cheap, delicious, and served in restaurants and roadside diners that would be kitschy in their name or appearance.

In the introduction to this edition, the Sterns explain that they coined the term "roadfood" to describe local eats around America. Their goal was to "get people to pay attention to what we considered a neglected national treasure: regional food." I haven't thought about this concept before. As I scan the "Roadfood Honor Roll: The 100" (the Sterns' top 100 picks from around the country) I see a lot of hot dogs, pizza, seafood and BBQ. I am the only person I know uninterested in BBQ but I love the other items. The Sterns' Illinois list surprised me. I hadn't visited any of their selections, even though I was familiar with a couple.

The guide lists Hot Doug's, a famous hot dog spot that was for several years an institution and which won awards. Sadly, it is closed. Its owner, the eponymous Doug, took orders personally and was a beacon for customer service.

Other mentions must include the famous Superdawg which does offer kitsch in the form of tall hot dog statues on the roof (can't miss it), and the Wedron Office, in Ottawa, Illinois (near Starved Rock State Park) and which offers whitefish. I plan to check it out.

Al's, which claims the crown for having invented Italian beef sandwiches, also makes their list. Italian beef really is a regional food in that I've had it many times but never at Al's. Here's a little article on Al's: https://www.eater.com/2014/7/8/6198993/the-italian-beef-sandwich-at-als-in-chicago

Under the Sun (1998) /Sharp Objects (2018)

Under the Sun

This is a Swedish film, and the plot is familiar: a lonely farmer advertises for a housekeeper. What complicates things is that the farmer, played by Rolf Lassgard, has a friend. Perhaps predictably, the friend just doesn't fit into the new arrangements. But he's fascinating. What's so great about this film are the performances. They're all great and compelling to watch. I really enjoyed this.

Sharp Objects

Loved this. I thought it was so well done. The latter half of the miniseries had me on the edge of my seat at all times. It all seemed to so terribly, horribly, impossibly creepy and I found that I was completely frightened and confused by the twist ending even though I should have anticipated it. I found it quite dark, and found that it lingered in the back of my mind for days after watching it, so I really think it's not for everyone. Although I would not describe this as horror, I would say that if you don't like horror, or if you're a sensitive viewer, you should perhaps skip this.

Woman Chased by Crows by Marc Strange

Picked up this entertaining mystery as a used book sale in a library. Sadly, I learned after I finished it that the author, Canadian Marc Strange, a former actor, screenwriter and director, known for Beachcombers, died in May 2012.

He was the author of two mystery series, the Orwell Brennan series, and the Joe Grundy series.

Woman Chased by Crows is the second in the Orwell Brennan series. set in small-town Ontario. What I liked best about this police procedural was the presence of several strong female characters. Brennan has three daughters, and the upcoming nuptials of one is one element of the plot.

Detective Adele Moen ("Del") from Metro Homicide is just as cool as you would expect someone named after a beer to be, and her temporary partner is local Detective Stacy Crean ("rhymes with brain") who together are the two women assigned to a string of mysterious murders that afflict small Ontario town Dockerty. They're both really good detectives, and they're attracted to very interesting cases.

Another thing I really liked about this book is the author's evident interest in ballet. Ballet dancers, and their travels across the globe, are at the heart of this mystery.

At the heart of the mystery is a teacher and former almost-prima-ballerina, Anya Daniel. She's a survivor, but that's not what's most interesting about her, nor her former career as a dancer. It's her raw determination. (After you recover from your sense of shock, you might feel some admiration for her - and the two detectives who save her life.) If you're interested in this novel, you might want to read the first book in the series, Follow Me Down, first.

The Guards by Ken Bruen

(This image is from John Hinde postcard collection.)

I found this crime fiction novel delightful. Funny in a wry way, with lots of slang (not all of which I understood), plenty of drinking, plenty of action, and an interesting assortment of characters besides Jack Taylor, the ex-Garda.

Jack's a drunk - no doubt about it. But that's not all he is. After getting the boot from the Garda, he becomes an unofficial private detective. He views himself as a "finder" rather than a detective, and he holds court in his unofficial office, Grogan's, a public house in the old style. (Decorations limited to a blotchy mirror and crossed hurling sticks.)

Jack really loved his father, a peaceful man who gave Jack his love of reading, and who's recently passed away. Jack knows he needs a change, and he's dreaming of finding a flat in Battersea, and, as he says, "waiting." In the meantime, a woman approaches him in Grogan's and asks him to investigate the death of her daughter, ruled a suicide. Jack's adrift and this new case brings with it a number of complications.

What's so great about this novel is that it's funny and lively all the way through, and very easy to read. Its tone reminds me of that of Get Shorty, the film made of the Elmore Leonard novel. This novel's chapters often open with an epigram: three of them are from Elmore Leonard, T. Jefferson Parker and George Pelecanos, and Bruen name checks John Sandford for good measure. If you're a fan of these authors, I think you'll like Ken Bruen, too.

There are quite a few twists in the plot, right up to the end. Most, not all, of this twists have to do with unanticipated deaths. Yes, by the end of the book you could joke that Galway is the murder capital of the world but I will say these deaths seem organic; these deaths seem like a natural outcome of the surrounding circumstances and characters.

MY TBR list

Well, I was quite excited when my copy of The Longbourn Letters by Rose Servitova arrived in the mail the other day.

I'd read an excerpt on Twitter and that excerpt reminded me of Laurence Sterne. I felt that was reason enough to read it.

It's only 147 pages long. Just the sort of thing I like.

I felt I couldn't quite get started reading it, though, because I still had a book checked out from the library: The Guards by Ken Bruen. I've just begun it, and I must say, it sure starts with a bang:

"It's almost impossible to get kicked out of the Garda Siochana. You have to really put your mind to it. Unless you become a public disgrace, they'll tolerate most anything.

"I'd been to the wire. Numerous

    Cautions
    Warnings
    Last Chances
    Reprieves

"And still I didn't shape up.

"Or rather, sober up. Don't get me wrong. The Gardai and drink have a long, almost loving relationship. Indeed, a tee-total Garda is viewed with suspicion, if not downright derision, inside and outside the force."

I love the word derision.

And the first chapter is only four pages long.

I know I'm going to enjoy this book.

I've also lately been reading The Real Jane Austen: A Life in Small Things. I'm loving it. Each chapter has a theme: an object from Jane Austen's life. On this framework, Byrne rests a great deal of biographical information. It's a clever structure: it's roughly chronological but allows her to move back and forth in time, offering themed biographical chunks without having to apologize for the things that are not known about Austen's life.

I went to a library book sale in October and picked up three Commissario Montalbano novels, safely stowed on the stairs; two culinary mysteries, a gift for a neighbor, Woman Chasing Crows by Marc Strange, and a book that got lost and was just rediscovered: Black Star Nairobi, by Mukoma Wa Ngugi. Also, have recently rediscovered my copy of the Wright 3 by Blue Balliett.

1/18/19

I also started reading Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know: The Fathers of Wilde, Joyce and Yeats, by Colm Toibin. I didn't start at the beginning (oh, yes, I did - I forgot), read all the way to the end, all while exercising care not to overlook anything salacious. But, I did read a good chunk of the chapter that interested me most, the chapter on John Butler Yeats. I suppose that was partly because I have the most nagging curiosity about the life of William Butler Yeats (if only I would apply myself), and naggingest little corner of that curiosity is Yeats' mother. She seems to have been an invisible woman. And John Butler seems to have been a biographer's dream: cantankerous, inconveniently, insistently independent, unembarrassed.

Sadly, did not get far before learning that my book club has selected Ruth Bader Ginsburg: A Life, by Jane Sherron De Hart. Very long: more than 700 pages. Clearly written, but slow reading for me: took me hours to read the first 100 pages. But very, very interesting.