The Rosie Project – a new favourite

 

Hello again,

It’s been a while since I’ve written a post here, between full time work, full time study and full time Wife and step-Mum I am finding less and less time for reading.

As you are probably all aware, Christmas is coming!! So while I was trudging around the mall, sliding through tiny gaps between people and trying not make physical contact I suddenly found myself in my safe place, a book store.

Outside the shop people milled about in large throngs saying things like ‘the world is ending’ and ‘Christmas is nigh’ in frightened whispers with wide eyes. I was safely inside the book store where the aisles were wide and unoccupied, people were politely looking at book covers and inside pages, while being aware of the people around them and stepping to one side to let me pass. It was heaven.

While I was there I picked up a book on a whim, The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion. I recalled that he had been in Canberra early this year promoting his second novel, The Rosie Effect. Since then I had been meaning to buy The Rosie Project, I had picked it up, read the blurb and put it back assigning it to my mental wishlist. So on a moment of Christmas madness I decided to buy myself the book. I took it to the counter where the smiling and polite book shop staff served me as though they hadn’t served 20 000 other people that day. And then, clutching the book to my chest like a life-raft I left the safety of the bookstore.

I opened the book on the journey home, and it took me roughly two days to read because I loved it so much. It is a beautiful, magical journey into the life of Don Tillman.

Despite only having two friends in his life Don is a quirky and very funny character. He excels at a lot things and has an inhuman capacity for learning, but he doesn’t understand people. I can totally relate to Don because I don’t understand people either. There are hints throughout the book that Don may have Aspergers, though it’s never explicitly stated, his actions, lack of emotional understanding, attention to detail, and strictly regimented life lived by schedule fit within the symptoms of being an Asperger sufferer.

I think it’s actually great that Don’s habits are never fully addressed or explained. It means that the story feels more organic, and it leaves the reader with some lingering questions at the end of the novel.

It takes a while before we’re introduced to Rosie, she forces her way into Don’s life against his protests and through a mutual project. We get to see inside Don’s thoughts as he explains his reasoning and tries to understand, and a lot of the time deny his emotions. All while desperately trying to hang on to the order he has established in his life. While on the other hand Rosie is a free spirited, feminist thinking, intelligent woman who finds herself enjoying Don’s company despite his lack of social graces.

What’s really nice is that the plot doesn’t follow a trope. I’m a bit partial to a nice romancy type novel every now and then, but this one was pretty different. Don is not your typical protagonist, and Rosie is not a typical leading lady, but I don’t want to give anything away, so I won’t say any more about the plot.

There is a fair whack of emotion packed in to the novel, I laughed often, I cried at least once, I got angry at sub-characters, and I left the novel feeling, well that would be giving it away. Suffice to say that Don has become one of my most loved characters I’ve read thus far.

In a time that has traditionally as an adult become filled with chaos and Christmas cheer-fear, this novel has been a joyous life buoy to escape to. I would recommend it to anyone who likes comedy and romance all mixed in together, with the added bonus of intelligent characters.

I am getting back to reviewing Time’s top 100, so stick around and I’ll tell you all about Never Let Me Go.

J.M

How has reading changed me, really.

This week, a news article caught my attention, Imagine Dragons Cares about the Refugee Crisis (and you should too), it popped up in my news feed on Facebook. Being a somewhat wary Internet user I rarely click on articles that pop up in my newsfeed, they are usually trying to sell me something. Honestly this one was no different, but instead of trying to sell me fake diet pills or miracle wrinkle cures (yes, Facebook is telling me I’m old), this was trying to sell me compassion.

I’m sure you have read, or at least heard about Europe’s refugee crisis. Over the next few days I found myself being reminded of John Steinbeck’s “Grapes of Wrath”. I have to admit that this was a tough novel for me to read, I found it hard to relate to, it was dense and it took me a long time to read. And yet, I found it popping unbidden into my mind for days. Suddenly it began to make sense, I began to understand, Steinbeck was putting a human face to people dispossessed and dehumanised. It’s easy to lose sight of that, and Dan Reynolds puts it articulately in his article “These refugees had to flee their beautiful homes and secure jobs due to war. They had no choice. It was either move or be killed. They wish nothing more than to be back in their homes, but that isn’t an option. These are people who had dedicated their lives to their trade. To their families. Their education. These are lawyers.”

These are lawyers. With those words these refugees suddenly become someone, you can imagine yourself in their shoes, dispossessed of not just your home, or your Nationality, but your profession, and your identity as a person. As a contributing and capable member of society you think, I have a job, therefore I am worthy. In “The Grapes of Wrath” it was the land, their home, their livelihood, and their identity which were all connected with their land, generations raised on farms suddenly dispossessed by large companies seeking profits. It’s not a true comparison, but the loss of identity soon became the loss of humanity in not just their eyes, but the eyes of society and those around them. They found themselves landless, skill-less, irrelevant, unneeded and dehumanised, and that is comparable to the situation of the refugees in Europe.

So, yes, reading has changed me. It’s given me a greater understanding and compassion for other people less fortunate than I am. It’s also given me the ability to look at the world through someone else’s eyes, and isn’t that something we could all benefit from? a little perspective.

J.M

My reading confessional

Imagine a young girl, white blonde hair, wide blue eyes, dressed boyishly in shorts and t-shirt. Baring her teeth savagely at everyone, children around her alternatively squeal with fright and laugh teasingly. She stands alone and tiny, her body tense against the wash of disapproval from her peers and often her teachers as well. That child was me, I wasn’t a well liked kid. I got skinned knees, I wandered through the blackberry bushes, I climbed trees and dug in the garden with my hands. I was fearless in the face of all those things, but I just didn’t understand other people and I didn’t know why. I was that odd little smart kid, the one who raced to finish her work so she could spend some quiet time reading. Don’t worry, I made friends eventually, I found people who were like me, and learnt to hide the parts of me that made most people uncomfortable. And though I survived without too many scars, I developed what some might say, was a very nasty habit.

About halfway through year one I discovered the library, and more importantly, that I could hide there during lunch. It was there, between shelves stacked with colourful spines and in the rough feel of paper between finger and thumb I found a place in the world. I was the Paperbag Princess fighting dragons, I ran the streets with Hairy Maclary from Donaldson’s Dairy and all his doggy pals, I had adventures in the Magic Faraway Tree, I giggled at Roald Dahl’s Revolting Rhymes and found friends in his Charlie, Matilda and James. When I was reading I wasn’t a lonely little girl anymore, I didn’t have to think about the real world. Reading had become my place to escape to when things were tough. Reading sustained me through my trauma inducing childhood and teenage years, but by the time I finished it had become so much more than an escape, reading had become something I needed, like food, water and air. Reading had become my socially acceptable addiction from which there was no recovery.

Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret – Judy Bloome

Hi there friends,

I’ve finished reading Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret, this novel sits at number 16 on Time Magazine’s top 100 novels.

I finished it a little while ago, so I’ve had some time to think about it. To be perfectly honest it didn’t resonate with me as well as other books on this list.

I don’t really fit within the target audience, and though I have step-children that have/do fit into the demographic, I honestly don’t think it would resonate with them either. The major reason for this is that the novel centres on the main protagonist, Margaret, an 11 year old girl just moved to a new town and her relationship with the idea of religion. She deals with some people who are really strict on their religious choices and what religion she should therefore choose, and her parents who are very strict on her not choosing a religion until they think she is old enough to do so. She tries out some religions, and talks with her friends, who don’t really understand or empathise with her predicament because they are far too interested in boys, boobs and growing up. Margaret never finds a real conclusion, which is fine, because there really is no right answer.

I’ve gone a little off-track here, but going back to the main point, I don’t really relate to Margaret, years of Catholic school turned my mind from the idea of religion entirely. When there was debate, my thoughts were, there might be an answer, but I really can’t be bothered worrying about it. My (step)children too, have never really had any questions about religion, most of them are Catholic, like their mother, and the youngest has never really found that idea interesting. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I shouldn’t judge so quickly and there may come a time when I hand this book to my youngest (step)daughter to help her think through her ideas on religion, but it feels like it came from a much different time and the debate is no longer relevant. Perhaps too, it’s a cultural divide between America, a notoriously religious country, and Australia.

I should point out that I have the idea that the novel sits on Time’s 100 greatest novels, not for it’s own merits but because of the author herself, Judy Blume’s novels are wonderful for tweens and teens struggling with growing up, she doesn’t shy away from things that children shouldn’t know and there is no talking down to them, she also uses characters that young people can relate to, though, they may not be as relevant now when kids are reading The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The Maze Runner. Not to mention that eleven year olds these days would own at the very least, a mobile phone, a tablet or laptop and have access to a whole dubious library of material on Netflix. Apart from that, it smacks of the kind of thing an adult would hand to you to get you through a ‘difficult time’ (which I pointed out earlier) and with the cynicism of eternally connected youth these days you would probably get a raised upper lip, eye roll and the book would be thrown into a corner to grow dust.

I still enjoyed it, in a nostalgic way, and, if you were game, you might recommend the novel for 8 to 10 year olds, bearing in mind that it does discuss religion, which some people might not want their children to address unless they bring it up themselves.

Next time; Never let me go by Kazuo Ishiguro.

J.M

A Clockwork Orange – not the movie

This is a grotesque novel that raises questions about youth, consent and our innate human nature. If you’ve read the novel or seen the movie, you already know about the violence that is portrayed throughout the novel. As a character reader I found a strange satisfaction in Alex, the main character, he’s a bad apple, and contrary to other stories where the bad kid comes good and learns a lesson, Alex is as unlikeable by the end of the novel as he was in the beginning. Woe to anyone who crosses this kids path. So why was I satisfied? because he stays true to character and there was something great in the truth of that, not everyone does redeem themselves, not everyone is a good person. Alex even said it in the novel, there’s some who like being good, but he likes being evil, and he won’t change by being put in prison, by being tortured, or by being forced into self-pity and fear.

It is in many ways akin to 1984, it is set in a dystopian world where youth run wild in the streets committing violent acts, rape, drinking and drug taking, and yet, Burgess treats it as any sort of foolish youthful activity. In contrast to this violent world, Alex indulges in classical music, most notably Beethoven, he is often polite and well-mannered, I feel like if I met him I would think he was a nice kid, up until the moment he kicked my head in. It’s a thought provoking parallel.

Despite everything, there were times throughout the novel when I felt sorry for Alex, whilst he is singled out as the protagonist of the novel, it’s clear that he isn’t acting any differently to the other youth around. His parents clearly have no control over his behaviour, he has free access to drugs and alchohol, the police have no authority and whilst it’s clear from his monologue of thoughts that he has no conscience, I can’t help but think there is more to it than he’s a bad person born that way. Once he is caught and put into prison, and from there into a program of behaviour modification, you can almost feel sorry for him as things go from bad to worse for poor little Alex, who is neither poor nor little, nor should he illicit these feelings considering the first part of the novel.

There are some parts of the novel which make it hard to read, Alex uses a language called NADSAT, it’s difficult to understand and I had to keep referring to the glossary in the back of the novel, some people will find the violence extreme and sickening, and it is narrated in first person, which I personally thought suited the novel, but some people really dislike.

I should note that a lot of the imagery and discussion around A Clockwork Orange centers on the Stanley Kubrick movie, which appears to be an excellent adaption, though I have not seen it, so I am unable to comment.

I would recommend it for anyone who likes dystopian fiction, and commentary on humanity and control. If you like 1984, you will probably like A Clockwork Orange.

Until next time Droogies,

J.M

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest – Is Nurse Ratched really so terrible?

Hello readers,

I finally finished Ken Kesey’s ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ about a week ago, but I’ve been catching up on some uni work. I have now found some time to write down my thoughts, so ….

Here’s what I thought:

First of all, it took a while, but I really enjoyed this book, in fact, I haven’t read a book on this list I haven’t loved … maybe I’m a bit biased. Let me also say, I have not seen the movie, but I intend to.

What’s it about?

Set in the mental ward of a hospital in 1960’s America the novel details the rise and fall of one Randle McMurphy. Narrated by Bromden, a man committed to the hospital for ten years, we watch a battle of wits unfold between McMurphy, a big talking, gambling man bent on liberating the patients from the head nurse, and Nurse Ratched, who runs the ward with extreme passive aggressiveness. What unfolds is a fascinating battle of subversive tactics which ultimately ends … well you should read it, or watch it yourself.

What I liked:

> The characters were real and interesting, not least of all the narrator Bromden who begins the novel in a foggy, fearful world pretending to be mute and deaf, with no hope of ever leaving the ward, and ends liberated of his debilitating fears and depression.

> The camaraderie of the ward patients, at the beginning of the novel there was none, and it was clear that this was part of the controlling tactics of Nurse Ratched, the patients noted in a book things of interest which were brought up in meetings to belittle each patient. McMurphy brings a camaraderie to the ward, he abolishes the book, he distracts the meetings and stands up for the patients at his own cost, but if nothing else, that was his message, togetherness.

> There is a subtle humour about the novel, you find yourself cheering for each win against the terrible Nurse Ratched and her team and laughing at McMurphy and his brazenness.

> The novel is narrated through Bromden, and while at times it’s clear that the narrator is unreliable and the story is biased with his memories, thoughts and his mental disorder, it’s told with an innocence that would not have been achieved had it been told from the perspective of McMurphy.

What I didn’t like:

> The novel is filled with undertones of sexism, there are only a few women in the whole novel, and all except Nurse Ratched is sexualised and made into an object. Nurse Ratched is often described by her over-large breasts, described as wasteful because she is so unsexed by her dominance over the patients. All of the other women in the novel are not provided voices, and referred to as ‘whores’, and are written to act accordingly.

Nurse Ratched …

Nurse Ratched is often portrayed as one of the worst villains of all time, but I feel like this might be in reference to her portrayal in the movie. I won’t deny that she acts in a controlling way, but I couldn’t help thinking that she was a woman in a ward full of men, men who suffered mental conditions. If she weren’t tough, if she weren’t the porcelain doll that Bromden describes could she have run that ward? or would she have been taken advantage of? It’s also mentioned in the novel that she was an army nurse, so maybe she was suffering too. I just got the impression that you didn’t see much of her perspective and the effect is to deny her a voice of her own, I think there is a lot more to Nurse Ratched than we were provided, but maybe that’s the point. She stands for order and conformity, and the establishment, McMurphy stands for difference, individualism, and anti-authoritarianism.

Now that I rethink about it, all of the ward patients stand for minority groups who were sent to mental wards to help them become more normal, and Nurse Ratched was society saying that until they were normalised they would be marginalised, and in the end it took McMurphy, a big burly redheaded labourer, accepting them to liberate them to be themselves.

Next up: Clockwork Orange.

Until next time my ward mates,

J.M

Lolita – can art really overcome anything?

Dear Reader,

Bear with me, this is a long one.

You have heard me bemoan the very thought of having to read Lolita. Let’s be honest, I did not enter this novel with a clear and open mind.

The writing is beautiful; Nabokov is a master of language. The story flows well, it’s engaging, and it is an interesting exploration in one of the darkest elements of society. Art allows us to explore our feelings, our thoughts, and some of the worst elements of human nature. It is through art that this novel finds its beauty, and earns its place in literary history.

However, it is extremely difficult to read of a man lusting so much after what he terms a “nymphet”, a girl aged between 8 and 14. In so many ways this is a novel of unrequited lust. I disagree that Humbert is in love with Lolita, whatever has been said previously. He lusts after her, he talks of her body and her beguiling ways, but she does not return his lust or his supposed love. He holds her nature against her, he doesn’t like her childish, selfish, petulant, and rude behaviour. She is pretty much the most frustrating kind of 12 – 14 year old you could imagine, and he tries his best to change her. He also shows almost no regard for her well-being, mentally or physically, he rarely stops to wonder what affect his actions have on her, and when he does, it is to alleviate his own conscience. Sure, he tries to convince you of his love, but he’s hardly a believable character, despite his self professed charms and status as a handsome man, and academic.

Humbert is flawed in his narration; this is a man who planned to drug a girl and her mother so he could indulge in his paedophilic fantasies, for months and years, he is a murderer, a kidnapper, and a rapist, but we’re supposed to believe he is a good and honest guy. I couldn’t, I never escaped the feeling that he was leading me. However, I had been warned before we met that he was leading, and the power of his charms was lost on me through wariness.

Many people think Lolita was not entirely innocent in the situation. She is already a sexually aware child whom Nabokov clearly places in the position of a seductress.

The facts are, after Lolita’s mother died, she had no-one left but Humbert, and to survive she had to keep him happy. Sure, she receives a lot of gifts and money from Humbert, but at no point in the novel is she described as happy. We hear that she is lovely Lo, angry Lo, sullen Lo, never do we hear happy Lo. To me, it seems that she never stops trying to run from him, from the moment of her capture, to the moment of her (dubious) liberation, she is always within his eyesight, or peripheral knowledge, he controls her every movement, waiting for her in cars at skate rinks, diners, movies. The girl doesn’t make a move or account for time that he doesn’t know about. The question of whether consent is given is never raised, in fact, he often tells us that she tells him to leave her alone, and only once is she described as a willing partner, there are hints that she is not complicit in his crime, despite never being provided with a voice.

Our version of Lolita is filtered through Humbert’s view as the narrator. Lolita is not given a voice, her story is told by Humbert who is trying to convince us that he is a changed man, and he is not responsible for his own actions. In many ways he tries to make us believe that he is the victim.

I couldn’t feel sorry for him, I couldn’t stop thinking of Lolita, and maybe it’s my age and gender, maybe I ‘m not Nabokov’s “ideal reader”. I felt conflicted throughout the novel, at first I was outraged, so angry at his actions. I stomped about tossing the book on desks and benches with disgust and loudly declaring my protestation at having to read such a filthy novel. After the initial shock, and Nabokov making a deliberate move away from describing anything erotic, I found myself conflicted. I was enjoying the novel, more than many others I have read. The writing is prose-like and flows without interruption, the plot was compelling, the characters interesting even if I did dislike them. I found myself at a junction, if I enjoyed this novel, was I morally corrupt, and a bad person? Can you enjoy a novel that is fundamentally about a bad thing? If I continued declaring my disgust for the novel, was I lying? And was I perpetuating ignorance to the detriment of art?

Having finished it, I can say I am glad I read it, and for the record I did enjoy it.

Even having regard to the subject, the novel is worth reading. If you can get past your personal prejudices (I don’t think I ever fully managed this), and look at the novel objectively it is a very well written piece of art that will engage you in moral and ethical questions, as well as philosophical ones.

You might feel as I did, and refuse to read it, but, if you refuse to read something on principle, then you are being ignorant. Now, I’m not saying everyone is not entitled to his or her opinion, but opinions should not be formed or expressed without knowledge. That is what Lolita taught me; don’t declare your hate for something you haven’t any knowledge of (the book, not being a paedophile; that’s still wrong), and don’t rely on other people’s opinions to form your own. I was ignorant, and now I hope I am wiser, thank you Mr Nabokov.

Next time: One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest – this one I am most definitely looking forward to.

J.M

Slaughterhouse Five: Billy Pilgrim, Tralfamadorians and the truth about the Dresden Bombing

Dear Friends,

I finished Slaughterhouse Five a little while ago, but I have been struggling to write to you about it.

With such an odd title, I had no idea what to expect from this novel at all. Now I am able to tell you, that Slaughterhouse-Five is the name of the building in which the American Prisoners of War are kept and survive the Dresden bombing. Including the protagonist Billy Pilgrim.

Billy Pilgrim is a very young man in the war, and an Optometrist after the war. A man that becomes unstuck in time, he travels backward and forward through events in his life, and is abducted by an alien race called Tralfamadorians, odd aliens who look like a plumbers friend with a hand on the end and an eye in the palm. The Tralfamadorians can see the past and the future all at once.

The time travel to me seems to be a metaphor for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and the way a person with PTSD becomes unstuck in time in their own lives and moves through different significant events, living them again. There are moments of clarity when Billy is in the present with his daughter who considers him a terrible burden and thinks he has lost his mind (which, maybe, he has).

There are unbelievable moments of fantasy where Billy is abducted by aliens, or is in an alien zoo.

And then there are the times when Billy is in the war, being bullied by allies and enemies alike, and things are bleak.

There are true things in the novel, the moments from the war are real, there are violent moments that have more realism than other events, but these moments are surrounded by fantasy and devoid of emotion, but even so, I often found myself wondering if that was a real experience for the author.

This is novel about the Dresden Bombing, Vonnegut tells you this in the beginning, but it becomes less about the event, and more about the effects of war on Billy Pilgrim, an extraordinarily ordinary man. When the story does eventually get to the event of the Dresden Bombing, it is told so matter-of-factly that it’s practically a non-event. It must have been an extremely difficult novel to write for Vonnegut, he was trying to do so for such a long time.

This, however, is an anti-war novel, and he makes the point that there really is nothing good to be said about war, by not really saying anything at all. He introduces us, however, to a wonderful and memorable character in the symbolically ordinary Billy Pilgrim.

It reminded me a little of Joseph Heller’s Catch-22, it doesn’t follow a linear timeline, and I think the link between the two is a statement in the fractured mind and memories of men involved in a war where they have no real power. It’s a strong message to the powers that be to take heed of the pawns which they are playing with, and the far reaching damage caused by war, and to the men and women fighting in the war, and their families who receive home a loved-one inevitably changed by the events they have seen and done.

Now that I’ve finished Slaughterhouse Five I’m moving on to Lolita, which I must say, I’m a little anxious about because as you should know my fellow bibliophiles, once something is read, it cannot be unread.

Until next time.

J.M

I’m stuck again

Help me!

So I read Gone With the Wind in less than two weeks.

But, Slaughterhouse five, a comparably much smaller novel, and I’m stuck. It’s not that I don’t like it. Maybe it’s because I really am not looking forward to Lolita, or maybe it’s because, even though I like it and it’s funny, it doesn’t follow a story. It reminds me of Catch-22, which is a great novel, but it took me a long time to read.

Have you read Slaughterhouse 5? how did you find it?

or for that matter , have you read Lolita? Am I being apprehensive for nothing?

let me know.

J.M

Gone With the Wind – not JUST a love story

DearFriends,

I won’t lie, I was not looking forward to reading this novel. Apart from it being 982 pages long, all I had ever heard was that it was one of the greatest love stories of all time, and of course that most famous of lines “My Dear, I don’t give a damn”.

It’s taken me almost two weeks to read it (12 days to be exact), and that in itself is testament to how much I enjoyed it, considering it took me months to read The Grapes of Wrath which was half the size.

It was timely too, as I celebrated my wedding anniversary with my very own anti-hero I couldn’t help but smile looking across the table at him in a dimly lit restaurant and comparing him to the best parts of Rhett Butler. Rhett is loving, supportive, playful, and uncompromising in his love for Scarlett. He is now, without a doubt cemented as one of my most favourite characters in any book I have ever read. He’s a loveable rogue and that’s my favourite kind of man.

Scarlett, not a lot of people like her, in the novel or out of the novel. I actually identified with Scarlett more than I thought I would, her strength comes up more than once, but I would call it endurance. She’s not a quitter, and she’s not going to go quietly through life. Scarlett takes what she wants and despite her intentions (which are more or less selfish) she takes care of everyone. She is self-centred and she can be a brat, and she likes to have things her way.

I was surprised whilst reading the novel, here I was thinking I was in for some sickly, sweet romance and I got a wonderful novel with strong female characters in the central roles. Without a doubt the women in this novel are much stronger than the men. Mitchell writes about the war, which was surprising for me because this is a novel that endures time, and yet, women were not considered able to write about war. Moreover she writes about war from the perspective of women, of the bravery and the support, the uncertainty and the fear that the women left at home endure, and she elevates this to being as important a position as the men who go fighting. She writes that when the men return from war, broken, the women endure and give strength and care for the men, they keep the society together. This is a brave novel, and it’s a novel for women, about women, but, above all things, this is a novel that is so much more than JUST a love story.

I would recommend it to anyone, the messages of solidarity, strength, friendship and love will find a home in any heart.

Next up: Slaughterhouse 5

Tilnext time,

J.M