‘Christmas Please!’ ed. Douglas Brooks-Davies
Title: Christmas Please! One Hundred Poems for the Festive Season
Author: ed. Douglas Brooks-Davies. Illustrated by Dovrat Ben-Nahum
Published: Phoenix, 2000, pp. 221. First edition
Genre: Poetry
Blurb: Here, in this beautifully illustrated anthology, is the spirit of Christmas in one hundred poems.
When, where and why: I was given this book for Christmas many years ago, but somehow never got around to reading it. As already mentioned, I decided to use books as an alternative advent calendar this year and, as this book has one hundred poems, they divided up quite nicely to give me four poems to read each night before bed in the run up to Christmas. Again, this book is reviewed out of reading order and qualifies as book 43/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge. I don’t think I’m going to make 50 somehow.
What I thought: There are some Christmas poems which seem to be ubiquitous at this time of year. It’s difficult to pass through the month of December without having heard or read ‘The Night Before Christmas’ by Clement Clarke Moore at least once, or sung Christina Rossetti’s ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’. Christmas Please! is a lovely collection of poems for the festive season because it not only includes these classics and other well known poems, it also contains many gems that I had never encountered before.
In his interesting introduction to the collection, Douglas Brooks-Davies explains the evolution of the Christmas poem throughout history and how its focus as been affected by factors such as the social climate, politics and current fashions. His explanation is erudite but accessible and is definitely worth reading. As well as being fascinating in its own right, the introduction also explains the scope of the collection, which is essentially a history of Christmas poetry, ranging from anonymous medieval poems in praise of the Madonna and Child to John Betjeman’s wonderful poem simply titled ‘Christmas’, which remains one of my favourites. Because of the historical focus of the collection, the content is quite heavily biased towards religious poems and so this book may not be for those just looking for some festive entertainment, but after all that is the reason behind Christmas.
Some of my favourite poems in this book were ‘Nativity’ by John Donne and Thomas Hardy’s short and bitter ‘Christmas: 1924′:
‘Peace upon earth!’ was said. We sing it,
And pay a million priests to bring it.
After two thousand years of mass
We’ve got as far as poison-gas.
I also loved the darkly atmospheric ‘A Child of the Snows’ by G. K. Chesterton:
There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim,
And never before or again,
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,
And the dark is alive with rain.Never we know but in sleet and in snow,
The place where the great fires are,
That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth
And the heart of the earth a star.And at night we win to the ancient inn
Where the child in the frost is furled,
We follow the feet where all souls meet
At the inn at the end of the world.The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,
For the flame of the sun is flown,
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.
All of these poems were new to me and I’m very glad that this book led me to discover them.
My only complaints about this book are regarding the organisation. Firstly, books without page numbers drive me insane and although the poems in Christmas Please! are numbered, the pages are not. I know there’s a newer edition of the book since mine was published so hopefully this one has page numbers. I also wasn’t keen on the way that the poems were organised alphabetically by author, with anonymous offerings thrown in at random. I think that, given the introduction, it would have been far more interesting to have the poems organised chronologically and it feels like a missed opportunity. This is definitely a collection to revisit though.
‘The Christmas Mystery’ by Jostein Gaarder
Title: The Christmas Mystery
Author: Jostein Gaarder. Translated by Elizabeth Rokkan. Illustrated by Rosemary Wells
Published: Phoenix, 1998, pp. 247. Originally published in Norwegian 1992
Genre: Fiction
Blurb: A young boy finds a faded, home-made Advent calendar in a bookshop. A piece of paper falls out of the first window on which is written the first part of an extraordinary story about a small girl who travels back in time to Bethlehem and the birth of Christ… Meanwhile, the intertwining story of the present unfolds, and the boy finds out about the strange man who made the calendar and about a girl who disappeared on Christmas Eve 40 years ago.
When, where and why: One 1st of December, when I was at primary school, my mother produced this book along with the eagerly anticipated chocolate Advent calendar when my sister and I came home in the evening. The Christmas Mystery is a sort of Advent calendar in book form, with one section of the story being revealed each day, and so every evening the family would sit together and be entralled as either my mother or father read us that day’s chapter. In the absence of a chocolate Advent calendar this year, I decided to read this book for myself for the first time. As I’m reviewing out of sequence to get the Christmas books out of the way before January starts, this rather confusingly counts as book 42/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge.
What I thought: I was a little bit worried when I began this book that it wouldn’t live up to the memories I had of it, tinged as they were with sentimental recollections of childhood Christmases, but it turns out that I needn’t have been so anxious. Even though I didn’t have the excitement of experiencing this book for the first time (and it says a lot about it that I can still remember so much of it, including chunks of dialogue) it was still a really interesting read, and there are things that I noticed this time around which no doubt went over my head when I was eight or nine. Although the story is simple enough and sufficiently engaging to be read and understood by young children, it includes some quite complicated ideas and there is more than enough material here to keep adults interested as well.
The Christmas Mystery manages to have a very strong message without being didactic and, although the framing narrative with its cast of angels and shepherds is undoubtedly Christian in flavour, the message itself is universal: peace and goodwill to all mankind. The way that Gaarder puts this across is so straightforward and simple that it’s very effective. He makes bold statements such as ‘For there’s no sense in believing what’s right unless it leads to helping people in distress’ (p. 113) that make his message seem clear and easy. These lines of wisdom are shared out between all the characters, ranging from Elisabet, the little girl, to the angels of God, emphasising its universal nature and its ease. I was impressed at how moral this book managed to be without ever being irritating.
This was definitely helped by the fascinating story, which is described with the same straightforward tone, applying logic to impossible situations. For example, when Elisabet is despairing of ever catching up with the little lamb that she chases out of a department store, thereby starting her journey through time and space, she thinks:
The worst of it was that she realised she was unlikely ever to catch up with the lamb. She had decided to follow it to the ends of the earth, but the earth was round, after all, so they might go on running round the world forever, or at any rate until she grew up, and by then she might have lost interest in such things as lambs. (p. 15)
The statement is simultaneously supremely logical and utterly bizarre, and is typical of the quirkiness of this excellent book.
The mise en abime structure of The Christmas Mystery, whereby there are Advent calendars inside Advent calendars and mysteries inside mysteries, is very well thought out. Each day, the reader opens the calendar door and is allowed to see more of Joachim and his parents trying to puzzle out what happened to Elisabet as they open their own Advent calendar door and discover more of her story as she runs back in time to Bethlehem, accompanied by angels, shepherds, sheep, wise men and Romans. I enjoyed the different layers of narrative and how the two were intertwined. I do think that the external mystery regarding the real Elisabet was wrapped up a bit quickly and I found it a little unsatisfactory, but that is my only issue with what is otherwise a genuinely wonderful book, highly recommended to all.
Where this book goes: This book is staying on my shelves. I don’t think that I’ll read it every year, but I definitely want to read it again in the future.
‘The Twelve Days of Christmas [Correspondence] by John Julius Norwich
Title: The Twelve Days of Christmas [Correspondence]
Author: John Julius Norwich. Illustrated by Quentin Blake
Published: Doubleday, 1998, pp. 38. First edition
Genre: Humour
Blurb: Everyone knows ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’, but not as rewritten by John Julius Norwich in this delightful correspondence, which records the daily thank-you letters from one increasingly bemused young lady to her unseen admirer. And who but Quentin Blake could exploit the full comic possibilities of this hilarious debacle as first birds, then maids and finally the full percussion section of the Liverpool Philharmonic create mayhem in the calm of an English country Christmas?
When, where and why: The problem with receiving Christmas themed books for Christmas is that they’re already out of season by the time I’m ready to start reading them, and that was the sad fate of this book. I decided it would be the perfect way to round off my evening of Christmas reading. It counts as book 37/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge.
What I thought: This is absolutely my favourite festive book ever. I’m sure I can’t be the only person who has ever thought how inconvenient the gifts in the song ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ would actually be to receive. In fact, with the exception of the five gold rings, I would be thoroughly peeved if my true love gave me any of those things. In this marvellous little book, John Julius Norwich takes the song to its logical conclusion and, in a series of increasingly frosty letters from Emily to her true love Edward, examines exactly how someone might react if they were to receive nine ladies dancing:
2nd January
Look here, Edward, this has gone far enough. You say you’re sending me nine ladies dancing; all I can say is that judging from the way they dance, they’re certainly not ladies. The village just isn’t accustomed to seeing a regiment of shameless hussies with nothing on but their lipstick cavorting round the green — and it’s Mummy and I who get blamed. If you value our friendship — which I do less and less — kindly stop this ridiculous behaviour at once.
Emily
The style of the letters is wonderful, and the subtly nuanced changes of vocabulary and tone as Emily becomes more and more disenchanted with her admirer’s gifts are very well executed. I particularly like the way that the way she opens and closes her letters becomes gradually more curt and formal.
Quentin Blake’s illustrations really make this book, as far as I’m concerned. Both Emily and the partridge, the first innocuous gift, look increasingly perturbed as the book progresses, and the pictures further on in the book as more gifts arrive are positively exuberant. They manage to make the scenes seem noisy and chaotic even though they are static. This is the perfect book to read when you’re in need of a good chuckle, particularly in the days after Christmas when realities like work and buying a new railcard (they’re going up again, surprise surprise) start to come back into your mind.
Where this book goes: This book isn’t going anywhere. It’s staying on my shelves to be read again, year after year.
Tea talk: I finished off my pot of English Afternoon with this book. All in all, a very satisfying experience.
Review: ‘Christmas Crackers for Cats’ by Julie and John Hope
Title: Christmas Crackers for Cats
Author: Julie and John Hope. Illustrated by Sue Hellard
Published: Bantam, 2000, pp. 32. First edition
Genre: Humour poetry
Blurb: This is a collection of limericks featuring cats and their antics, beautifully illustrated by Sue Hellard. You can learn your cat’s views on life—from why they lust hungrily after your pet canary to the art of turning your home into complete shambles. (Goodreads.com)
When, where and why: This was another stocking present some years ago. I’ve dipped into it before but never read it properly, so it counts as book 36/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge.
What I thought: Christmas Crackers for Cats is an entertaining collection of limericks, with one longer poem in the style of Hilaire Belloc’s Cautionary Tales. It is once again filled with the lovely comic illustrations of Sue Hellard which help to augment the humour, and is an amusing swift read. Despite the title, the contents are not festive at all, so it could be read and enjoyed at any time of year. I think that this was my favourite limerick:
A raunchy old tomcat called Bertie
Had a mind that was ever so dirty
Now his goolies have gone
He’s just one peeping Tom
So all he can do is get flirty.
This is of course accompanied by a picture of a lascivious looking cat enthusiastically assaulting a cushion. I wish I could share some of these illustrations, but sadly I lack both camera and scanner (I’ll have to see what I can do about this in the new year).
However, unlike Christmas Carols for Cats, this book suffers a bit from being read cover to cover as the limericks, while entertaining, start to sound a little repetitive after the fifth one. I would still recommend this book, but it’s definitely one to dip into rather than read straight through in one sitting.
Where this book goes: I’m putting this one back on the shelf next to Christmas Carols for Cats for whenever I feel like reading an amusing limerick.
Tea talk: I read this book while enjoying the same large pot of English Afternoon Tea.
Review: ‘Christmas Carols for Cats’ by Julie and John Hope
Title: Christmas Carols for Cats
Author: Julie and John Hope. Illustrated by Sue Hellard
Published: Bantam Books, 1998, pp. 29. Originally published 1996
Genre: Humour poetry
Blurb: A witty, charming treasury of traditional Christmas carols -rewritten by cats for cats – includes such classics as “The Twelve Days of Catmas,” “We Wish for the Fam’ly Goldfish,” and “Bark! The Hairy Scary Things.” (Goodreads.com)
When, where and why: I was given this book by Father Christmas in my stocking several years ago. I felt the need for something light, festive and amusing to read, so this seemed the ideal book to pick up before bed. It counts as book 35/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge.
What I thought: Christmas Carols for Cats is great fun. It features twelve well-known Christmas songs and carols rewritten so that the centre around cats (as all things in life should, I feel). The adaptations are clever and witty and they scan so well that I found myself humming them under my breath as I read the book. There are a few contributions which don’t work quite as well, in my opinion, such as ‘Collar Bells’ which is set, unsurprisingly, to the tune of ‘Jingle Bells’, but I found something to enjoy in every single song. The illustrations by Sue Hellard which accompany the carols are perfect, bringing out the humour of the words and enhancing it through their appealing depictions.
One of my favourite songs in the book is ‘The First Slow Yell’ to the tune of ‘The First Noel’, something which will be familiar to all owners of hungry cats:
The first slow yell for you as you lay
Asleep in the morning on Christmas Day
O do not snore please get out of bed
It’s seven o’clock and I haven’t been fed.
O Yell O Yell O Yell O Yell
Feed me at once or I’ll make your life hell.
To lay a-bed is an awful disgrace
Get up right now or I’ll sit on your face
My furry paw ‘neath the covers will crawl
Fill up my bowl or I’ll caterwaul.
O Yell O Yell O Yell O Yell
Feed me at once or I’ll make your life hell.
Your last big chance now give us a break
I’ve clawed at your nightshirt you should be awake
I’ll niggle and naggle, be ever so rude
For nothing else matters when I want my food.
This would definitely be the perfect Christmas gift for any cat owner or cat lover.
Where this book goes: I’m going to hang on to this book to read again at future Christmas times. It’s a good, quick read, great for sharing with others and guaranteed to make me smile. What more could anyone want at Christmas?
Tea talk: I indulged in a whole pot of English Afternoon Tea from St James’ while reading this book and a few other little Christmas books which will be reviewed shortly. It was rich and mellow and just what I wanted.
‘The Running Foxes’ by Joyce Stranger
Title: The Running Foxes
Author: Joyce Stranger
Published: Corgi, 1967, pp. 142. Originally published 1965
Genre: Young adult fiction
Blurb: The magic is of foxes running wild over the Cumberland hills, of an otter cub adopted by a poacher, of young hounds caught in a badger-run, and of dour, lakeland farmers who hunt on foot and are out-witted and out-run by a vixen and her cubs. It is the enchantment of a swiftly-passing England, an England of countrymen and stone-walled cottages. And it is the magic of an era that, in the hills and tarns of Cumberland, has not entirely died.
When, where and why: I can only assume that I acquired this book when I was in the rabid, animal-loving phase that most little girls go through (as opposed to the rabid animal loving phase, which I should imagine fewer experience). Joyce Stranger wrote loads of good animal stories, but somehow I must have passed this one by. Clearly it is ancient, and so it becomes book 34/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge. I picked it up to read now because I needed something light (literally and figuratively) to read on the tube while I was reading Quicksilver.
What I thought: Although The Running Foxes is a children’s book I’m very glad that I unintentionally waited until I was older to read it, as I don’t know that I would have appreciated it so much when I was little. It is a subtle, quiet book with a relatively sparse storyline, but remarkably touching. Joyce Stranger has filled her book with the well-created and maintained atmosphere of the fells in a fading era. The penetrating cold and damp of the morning mist on the hills and the warm, smoky camaraderie of the local pub are almost tangible in The Running Foxes. This simple but magical world is populated by a cast of gruff but good hearted old men whose lives revolve around animals both for work and recreation and who I thoroughly enjoyed following as they hunted over the fells, made bets or came to terms with their loneliness.
As the title suggests, foxes and fox hunting play a large part in this book, and I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a book which managed to address this in quite such a balanced way. The author admires the foxes for their cunning and trickery, but also admires the men for their dedication to their animals, their country skills and the sense of community that the hunt brings. Both fox and man seem to enjoy the thrill of the chase. Of course, it helps that there are no fox killings in the book, but nonetheless it was refreshing to read something which is able to see both points of view and present them alongside one another.
All in all, this was a good, quick read, perfect for the winter.
Where this book goes: I think I’m going to keep this one for now. According to LibraryThing, it’s the first book in a trilogy about Dai the local vet, so I may be tempted to acquire the other two for when I feel like returning to the Cumberland hills for some escapism.
Tea talk: As this was exclusively a train book, there was no tea with this one. There definitely should have been though, as all that reading of walks on frosty mornings and coming home to roaring fires called for a pot of tea.
Review: ‘Quicksilver’ by Neal Stephenson
Title: Quicksilver: Book I of the Baroque Cycle
Author: Neal Stephenson
Published: Arrow, 2004, pp. 927. Originally published 2003
Genre: Alternative history
Blurb: A novel of history, adventure, science, invention, sex, absurdity, piracy, madness, death and alchemy that sweeps across continents and decades, upending kings, armies, religious beliefs and all expectations. Bringing a remarkable age and its momentous events to vivid life — in an historical epic populated by Samuel Pepys, Isaac Newton, William of Orange, Benjamin Franklin and King Louis XIV — Quicksilver is an extraordinary achievement from one of the most remarkable and original writers of our time.
When, where and why: I picked this book up from a little stand of second hand books in the basement of the Treasurer’s House, a National Trust property in York. I visited it shortly after I had finished my MA so it’s been on my shelves for a little over a year now, making it book 33/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge. I had accidentally bought the second book in this trilogy earlier in the year without realising it was book two, so I snapped this one up when I saw it.
What I thought: If, from reading the blurb from the back of this book, you think it sounds a bit diverse and complicated you would be absolutely correct. Quicksilver is a mammoth work which covers so many areas that it can get out of hand. In fact, reading Quicksilver, I was reminded of that nursery rhyme:
There was a little girl and she had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead
When she was good, she was very, very good
And when she was bad, she was horrid.
When this book is bad, it is tedious, confusing, dull and frustrating, but when it’s good it’s fantastic. I actually started it way back in February (which explains my excessively low book count for this month) but set it aside because I couldn’t take it any more: I found it opaque and thought it had too many storylines which seemed completely unconnected with too many characters that I didn’t particularly like. I only picked it up again in order to finish it so that I could get rid of the terrible thing. However, evidently the break was exactly what I needed, as this time around I found it fascinating and everything clicked into place, and now I’m looking forward to reading the rest of the Baroque Cycle.
The book was still confusing and was by no means an easy read. It is written in several different forms: regular prose, playscript style and in letters where the real message is hidden in italics among the main body of the missive. The narrative skips about from one character to another, in between countries and passing over chunks of time, so Stephenson keeps you on your toes constantly. But this time I enjoyed the challenge rather than being frustrated by it. I think part of the reason that it feels so difficult is that it’s such a large book that it can be easy to find it overwhelming. I noticed that the novel is in fact divided into three books, and I think that when I approach The Confusion, the rather appropriately named second volume of the Baroque Cycle, I will take a break to read something palate cleansing in between the composite books so that I don’t become fatigued and disillusioned as I did with Quicksilver. This seems a far more sensible way to tackle these massive, dense books and I would recommend this approach to anyone else.
Although there were lulls in between the good bits, when Stephenson gets it right his writing is perfectly pitched, wry, deadly accurate and very quoteable:
Daniel felt about the place [the Royal Society] as a Frenchman felt about the French language, which was to say that it all made sense once you understood it, and if you didn’t understand it, then to hell with you. (p. 784)
It is full of encoded stereotypes, contemporary and modern, and biting satire. He has an impressive way with words, and hopefully I’ll be able to appreciate this a bit more in future volumes now that I’ve learnt to stop fretting about the plot(s).
I’ve been a bit nervous about reading alternative history in the past, primarily because my historical knowledge of any given period isn’t sufficiently complete for me to be able to distinguish exactly what is history and what is the author’s own deliberate departure from it. In order to verify everything that went on in Quicksilver I would have to research for years, and I have a huge respect for the effort that Neal Stephenson has obviously put into crafting his slightly off-kilter seventeenth century, but at any rate the events of the book were so bizarre (I seem to recall chasing ostriches in Vienna, although that was in February’s section so I may well be wrong) that I decided to throw caution to the winds and just to go with it. I think that is the best attitude to have when reading this book, as its wonder doesn’t rest on what is accurate and what isn’t but on the world full of intrigue, real or not, that Stephenson has created.
Quicksilver is hard work to read, but ultimately I found it to be worth the effort. The story is very tangled, but cleverly so, and the rewards for the reader who is prepared to sit and unpick the knots are great. I’m very glad that my compulsive book finishing forced me to give this book a second chance.
Where this book stays: I was expecting to be able to clear a good two and a half inches of book off my shelves when I finished Quicksilver and sent it on to pastures new. Unfortunately it seems I’m going to have to keep it now. Ah well, the best laid plans of mice and men, as they say.
Tea talk: Quicksilver was most definitely a book that needed to be washed down with lots of tea. On this occasion I chose Chun Mee green tea from Char, my favourite tea shop. Chun Mee apparently means ‘beautiful eyebrows’ because of the shape into which the leaves are rolled. I can’t say I noticed much of the plum aftertaste that the website mentions, but It was certainly a pleasant tea.
Review: ‘The Quiet Little Woman’ by Louisa May Alcott
Title: The Quiet Little Woman: A Christmas Story
Author: Louisa May Alcott
Published: Honor Books, 1999, pp. 122. Originally published 1870s
Genre: Children’s short stories
Blurb: “If someone would only come and take me away! I’m so tired of living here I don’t think I can bear it much longer,” Patty cries. Patty’s life in an orphanage is a dark world with little hope, beauty or love. Even after a family finally does come for Patty, it is only because they need a servant. But there is one person who does care about Patty. And soon Patty’s life will never be the same!
When, where and why: I have to confess, I actually bought this for someone else as a Christmas gift. I don’t usually read books before I give them to people (in fact, I never have before) but then my train home was delayed and I finished my other book and so I had nothing to read! I was in a state of panic until I remembered that I had this book snuggled safely in a padded envelope in the depths of my bag, heading home to be wrapped. Desperate times call for desperate measures and so I gave in to necessity and read the book.
What I thought: I firmly believe that any book is better than no book, and that if I were to be marooned on a desert island with nothing to read but a stack of Christine Feehan’s terrible vampire books I would plough gamely through them rather than sit around without a book. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to hold anything resembling an intelligent conversation with normal people if I were ever rescued (although I would have an impressive collection of euphemisms for genitalia), but that’s besides the point. Nevertheless, while The Quiet Little Woman, a book of three festive short stories by Louisa May Alcott, filled a bored half hour while stuck in a siding somewhere around Basingstoke, it swiftly transpired that I found it only marginally better than having no book at all, disappointingly.
Anyone approaching this book expecting to read something like Louisa May Alcott’s far more famous Little Women is likely to be equally disappointed, I’m afraid. I found Little Women to be charming and hearwarming yet, although The Quiet Little Woman and Tilly’s Christmas (the first two stories in the collection) follow a similar narrative trajectory of poor but worthy girls finding love, warmth and happiness through their own selfless actions, they never achieved this end and so came across as rather sanctimonious. I think this is partly because the stories are too short to allow much character development; the March girls may be good at heart but they all have faults which make them interesting, whereas Tilly and Patty are never anything other than perfect and boring.
Rosa’s Tale is a better story, as it deals with a horse rather than a painfully good child and so the rather hamfisted moral message which so irritated me in the first two stories is thankfully absent. However, it reads like a paraphrase of Black Beauty rather than an original story and feels rushed. Having read this book, I don’t think that the short story is Alcott’s medium, or at least it is not one which translates very well for a modern reader with modern expections. On the whole, I found the collection to be sweet to the point of being sickly and moralistic to the point of being trite.
Where this book goes: This book is winging its way to the person for whom I bought it. I really hope that they like it more than I did.
Tea talk: As this was a train book, there was no tea to be had.
Review: ‘The Christmas Fox I: Ghost Writer’ by Tim Mackintosh-Smith
Title: The Christmas Fox I: Ghost Writer
Author: Tim Mackintosh-Smith
Published: Slightly Foxed, 2005, pp. 31. First edition
Genre: Short story
Blurb: Speaking via its ghost-writer, Tim Mackintosh-Smith, the Arabic manuscript of Abd al-Latif al-Baghdadi tells its own true, if admittedly incredible, story. Set in medieval Cairo and Aleppo, seventeenth-century Oxford and 1960s London, it is a tale of cannibalism, a curse, and of an authorial voice from beyond the grave. Ghost Writer not only redefines the meaning of a talking book; it may even make us listen to our libraries.
When, where and why: Slightly Foxed is a book shop on Gloucester Road that I used to walk past every time I went to visit the Old English Thorn when he lived in halls at university but somehow never went in, probably because I found any shop in South Kensington which wasn’t Tesco slightly intimidating, worrying that I would be summarily shooed out of them for being not nearly moneyed enough. I came across the place again by chance when browsing book websites and noticed that they publish a quarterly magazine and a range of gorgeous looking books. Never one to let such a discovery go uninvestigated, I ordered this book from their website as it looked to be a good starting point.
What I thought: The idea of reading a book from the point of view of a manuscript will either strike you as unutterably dull or absolutely fascinating. Given that I’ve had the opportunity to study, poke and prod old manuscripts I was of the latter group even before I read this little gem of a book, but Tim Mackintosh-Smith carries it off so well than I’m sure Ghost Writer could convert even people of the former opinion. This book is quirky, engaging, amusing and dry and illustrates exactly how a short story should be written, in my opinion.
I think this book holds a special appeal for me because I spent some time a few years ago poring over medieval manuscripts, deciphering the crabbed handwriting, peering at the parchment and examining the coloured inks. Consequently, I love the idea that a manuscript could be just as critical of itself as of the people who read it, cataloging the flaws and foibles of both with equal insight, and, even though Ghost Writer has a mere 31 pages, there were numerous paragraphs that made me chuckle with recognition or at the new perspective they provide:
I’m not the final copy; that was made for the Caliph, al-Nasir, in Abd al-Latif’s native Baghdad. I’ve got some marginal afterthoughts, and the odd blob where the nib of the reed snagged on a backward loop; even a wrong verb ending, forced messily into agreement. But the ink flowed freely through the long fasting afternoons — it was Ramadan, the best month for writers: no cigarette-breaks or coffee-stops — on and on for 140 pages, thirteen lines a page. Not perhaps a pretty hand; but a handsome one, and so instantly legible that you’d never think it was written 800 years ago, and certainly not by a medic. (p. 5)
As you can see, the manuscript narrating the story has a very distinctive voice and is highly opinionated. I enjoyed its somewhat disdainful reference to printed works as ‘clones’ (p. 15) and the way that its statement that it will last ‘until the end of time or the Bodleian Library’ (p. 9) implies that the library will endure the longest. Mackintosh-Smith also plays cleverly with words in this story, turning perfectly commonplace terms that are used without thought into startling and funny ideas by unpacking their meanings:
If I tell you that for us manuscripts the pleasures associated with the physical act of reporduction are not unakin to those felt by you humans in your own version of this activity, and if I remind you that close to 500 years had passed since my last enjoyment of them, you will have some idea of the thrill I experienced. (pp. 17-18)
All in all, I found this to be an enjoyable, highly original story. Not only is the content excellent, the book itself is a lovely object, easy to hold and pleasant to read. I’m definitely going to be buying future editions of The Christmas Fox if this offering is any indication of the quality on offer.
Tea talk: The manuscript says of the work of one of his owners that, ‘This, his magnum opus, was promptly panned by the critics. The good doctor boiled his tea-kettle with the greatest part of the impression’ (p. 21). While I would never dream of burning books, even for the sake of tea, I did feel the need for some tea to accompany this little book, and used it as an opportunity to finish off my Assam. It took me till the end of the packet to work out how best to brew it (show the tea leaves to the water very briefly and then take them away before they get too friendly) but now I’ve got it just right I’ll have to get some more as it’s just delicious and mellow.
Review: ‘Child of the Phoenix’ by Barbara Erskine
Title: Child of the Phoenix
Author: Barbara Erskine
Published: Harper Collins, 1994, pp. 1086. Originally published 1992
Genre: Historical fiction
Blurb: In 1218 an extraordinary princess is born, whose mystical powers and unquenchable spirit will alter the course of history… Raised by her fiercely Welsh nurse to support the Celtic cause against the predatory English king, Princess Eleyne is taught to worship the old gods, to look into the future and sometimes the past. However, unable to identify time and place in her terrifying visions, she is powerless to avert forthcoming tragedy… Remarkable events follow Eleyne all her life as, despite impassioned resistance, her world is shaped by powerful men. But her tempestuous life and loves tie her to the destinies of England, Scotland and Wales…
When, where and why: Sharon Penman’s Here Be Dragons is one of my favourite historical fiction novels, and so when I saw that this book dealt with Llewellyn’s daughter and would revisit all the characters I loved so much I knew I had to have it. It caught my eye as I was browsing my shelves and so went into my bag to be read on the train. It counts as book 32/50 for my Books Off the Shelf Challenge.
What I thought: Caveat emptor! This may look like an innocuous historical fiction novel (albeit a rather chunky one) but halfway through it mutates horribly into a paranormal romance. Now, if you happen to like stories of people falling in love with other people who are, in one way or another, dead, then you’d probably love this book. Were I a publisher I’d probably suggest republishing this book and repackaging it with a greater emphasis on the paranormal element, because goodness knows that’s popular at the moment. However, I am not a publisher, I am merely a disgruntled reader who feels disappointed in the author for choosing to throw this element in for no apparent reason and cheated out of what would have been a good, slightly trashy historical novel.
Initially, Child of the Phoenix was a fairly solid example of the historical fiction genre. It’s a bit cliched (can we say beautiful and willful heroine?) and nothing spectacular, but the story races along quite well and I found it an engaging and quick read despite its size. True, it suffers in comparison to Here Be Dragons, the reason I read it, but I was enjoying it nonetheless. Even if the writing isn’t as good, I found it interesting to see the different perspectives that the two authors use to present the same events, giving wildly different motives and emotions surrounding them. Characterisation is patchy and inconsistent: Eleyne is described throughout as an independent, opinionated, fiery woman and yet she submits without question when her first husband beats her to punish her for her actions, then has willing sex with him and snuggles up to him for comfort, which is utterly unbelieveable. I would have expected, shock, anger and hurt, not the strange meekness which Erskine suddenly gives her. I could live with that though, as most of the enjoyment of historical novels for me is in the plot rather than the characters.
Halfway through, however, the book runs into major problems. The story goes round and round in circles as similar events happened repeatedly with seemingly no attempt to differentiate between them. Then the paranormal romance strikes! Now, I have nothing against a bit of magic in books, particularly the occasional use of the Sight or references to the old gods which seems to be ubiquitous in any historical novel with an even vaguely celtic setting, but this combination of strange visions and a ghostly love triangle was far too much for my tastes.
Erskine explains in her afterward that very little is known about her central character. In fact, she may even be two entirely different people that Erskine has erroneously combined, historical records are that vague and incomplete. To me, the paranormal subplot which quickly takes over is a lazy way of attempting to inject excitement into the times when very little was happening in Eleyne’s life without having to develop the story and characters in a more difficult way without such instant appeal. The paranormal occurrences are noticeably absent at times when important and interesting historical events are occurring, and so they really do just seem like a way to fill in the gaps without trying.
Ultimately, I would have preferred this book if Erskine had avoided the problem of long periods when nothing happened by making the book much shorter. There are plenty of examples of time being skipped over, just indicated by a dated heading, and so, at over 1,000 pages, I feel that she could have trimmed a lot of fat from this book and made it a much tighter read, without the need for a silly ghostly lover.
Where this book goes: I’ve lent this book to my mother, who will probably really enjoy it. After that, though, it’s going straight to BookMooch to find a new home, not to mention to give me about three inches of clear shelf space.
Tea talk: I was recently given some tea as a belated birthday present from a good friend of mine, so I’ve been trying that out. First on the list was some Golden Snail Tea! It’s so named because of its shape, not its provenance, and makes a really delicious, light gold cup of tea. Plus the name is just great.