Edition: Penguin, 1987 (Buy from Amazon)
Review number: 828
The original Jungle Book contained some stories which nowadays would be considered rather daring in a childrens' book because of their treatment of death. In The Second Jungle Book, this is even more the case, with violent death a commonplace. This is almost the "jungle red in tooth and claw", and it is going to be very surprising to anyone whose only prior acquaintance with the stories comes from the Disney cartoons. Things are slightly softened, mainly so that the stories will work, but death is present in every one.
A larger proportion of the stories are about Mowgli than is the case in the earlier book; the two tales which aren't are poorer in quality than their counterparts, Quiquern in particular being quite forgettable. The Mowgli stories, on the other hand, are very good indeed. They are not as immediately gripping as his duel with Shere Khan or the encounter with the monkeys, and it is easy to see why Kipling later redistributed the stories. (In the redistributed version, the mood does swing moves quite rapidly, as the stories from the different books are read.) The Second Jungle Book is more aimed at adults and older children than the first; it could be quite disturbing.
Thursday, 31 May 2001
Wayne J. Keeley: Mahogany Row (2000)
Review number: 827
From the first slightly tongue in cheek paragraph (which could be paraphrased as "I knew I was having a bad day when I found the body of my boss in my office..."), this legal thriller holds the attention. Mark McCoy is soon made aware that he is the chief suspect in the killing. He has an overwhelming motive - as an associate nearing the end of his eight years, he is hoping to become a partner, but a memo on his desk from his boss indicates that instead he is going to have to leave the firm. He has no alibi, and some one is alternately trying to frame him and kill him. Soon he is a fugitive trying to track down the real killer while on the run, and discovering all kinds of dirt about the sexual habits of his boos and the real ethics of the law firm he was working for.
Mahogany Row is a taut, exciting novel, which concentrates on providing its thrills. The background is a little sparse, particularly for someone like myself who has little idea how an American law firm is structured. The plot requires the police to be a little slower than I would have expected, and some of the ideas owe a fair amount to TV series like The Fugitive. Keeley is also a film writer, and this shows in his interest in dramatic action as the mainstay of the novel. The criticisms I have are both small and connected to my taste in thrillers, rather than being problems with the novel, which is extremely enjoyable.
Friday, 18 May 2001
Anton Chekhov: The Seagull (1896)
Edition: Nick Hern Books, 1997
Review number: 826
It may seem strange today, but the initial response to The Seagull was so negative that it made Chekhov resolve to retire from drama. (It was the way that Stanislavsky and the Moscow Arts Theatre took up the play a few years later that persuaded him to change his mind.) The reasons for the failure lay in the expectations of the audience and actors rather than in the play itself; the audience wanted star vehicles, and The Seagull isn't one; the star billed did not appear, annoying her vociferous fans.
The plot is all about unrequited love; just about all the characters love someone who doesn't care for them. The only equal relationship is the affair between successful author Trigorin and actress Arkadina, which is not exactly one with much love in it. The central characters in the play are Arkadina's son, Kostya, who is an aspiring author, and local girl Nina, whom he loves but who prefers Trigorin because he might be able to arrange for her to get a part in a play in Moscow. The play contains a lot of discussion of drama, and includes excerpts from the play Kostya has written for Nina, in which she takes the part of the World Spirit. It is an experimental, Symbolist play; Kostya wants to move drama on, but his work is fairly typical of second rate avant garde literature.
As the title indicates, there is an important (and far more subtle) symbol in Chekhov's play, as well; the seagull accidentally shot by Kostya. The only other important literary seabird prior to this that I can think of is the albatross killed by the ancient mariner in Coleridge's poem, and this too brings bad luck. Even ignoring traditional ideas (I have no idea what significance a seagull might have in Russian folklore), it is easy to see that such a bird symbolises freedom and is connected to the power of the sea, and the dead bird represents the end of Kostya's hope that Nina might love him, among other things, and the recall of the motif in the final act brings on Kostya's famous suicide.
The plot of The Seagull is more melodramatic than those of Chekhov's last three plays, but marks an important step in terms of naturalism by comparison with what was going on around him. It is easy to see why, with its combination of this realism with the central symbol, this play is compared to Ibsen (with perhaps The Master Builder being particularly similar), though I don't think that Chekhov particularly liked being classified with the Norwegian author.
Leslie Charteris: The Saint Sees It Through (1947)
Edition: Hodder & Stoughton, 1950 (Buy from Amazon
)
Review number: 825
This novel marks something of a change in the Saint saga. It is set in different circumstances, after the end of the war, and is more serious in tone than much of Charteris' writing. Simon Templar investigates the nightclub Cookie's Cellar in New York and its seedier dockside version, run by Cookie (a massively fat singer of bawdier songs) as, she says, a charitable gesture to the heroism of merchant sailors. There is far less banter than usual, and Simon gets himself involved in a serious relationship. This has happened before, notably in The Saint in New York, which is possibly the best novel in the entire series.
The Saint Sees It Through succeeds as a pure thriller, but lacks the humour and bravado which is one of the most treasurable characteristics of the series. It is not typical, but loses something by this.
)Review number: 825
This novel marks something of a change in the Saint saga. It is set in different circumstances, after the end of the war, and is more serious in tone than much of Charteris' writing. Simon Templar investigates the nightclub Cookie's Cellar in New York and its seedier dockside version, run by Cookie (a massively fat singer of bawdier songs) as, she says, a charitable gesture to the heroism of merchant sailors. There is far less banter than usual, and Simon gets himself involved in a serious relationship. This has happened before, notably in The Saint in New York, which is possibly the best novel in the entire series.
The Saint Sees It Through succeeds as a pure thriller, but lacks the humour and bravado which is one of the most treasurable characteristics of the series. It is not typical, but loses something by this.
Thursday, 17 May 2001
John le Carré: The Naive and Sentimental Lover (1971)
Edition: Pan, 1972 (Buy from Amazon
)
Review number: 822
The Naive and Sentimental Lover is unique in le Carré's outpur. It is not a thriller, but a serious novel; its subject is an obsessive relationship. Aldo Cassidy is a self made man, a magnate in the pram accessory business. He goes to Somerset to view a country house he is thinking of purchasing, and there meets a couple, squatting. Aldo falls for them both; Shamus turns out to be a famous novelist, and Helen is extremely beautiful.
Some people think this is one of the best things le Carré has done; other that it is the worst. This is probably decided by their response to the character of Shamus. He is clearly intended to be charming, but to me he comes across as one of the most selfish and obnoxious characters in any novel. (No prizes for guessing what I think of The Naive and Sentimental Lover!) I hate embarrassing behaviour, to the extent of frequently turning off TV comedy, and Shamus is to me the epitome of loud and embarrassing. Le Carré is ambivalent about Shamus himself, and by the end of the novel, Aldo has come to hate him, but my problem is that it is difficult to see why he every thought otherwise.
I have read somewhere that The Naive and Sentimental Lover is to some extent autobiographical, though Shamus is so over the top that this is hard to believe. Some parts of it are clearly not from life; both Helen and Aldo's wife Sandra are typical of le Carré's female characters in that they are ciphers by comparison with the men.
Another way to look at this novel is to see Shamus as the reflection of the unexpressed side of Aldo's personality. This makes the novel between the repressed, successful businessman and the wild artist. This idea makes the novel much more interesting, though it hardly provides much evidence to support this interpretation. The title is one part of it; from Romantic philosophy, where Schiller divided people into the naive, who live the natural life, and the sentimental, who do not but who long to. Shamus, it is explained in the novel, is naive, while Aldo is sentimental. This basically means that Aldo's life, until he meets Helen and Shamus, is ruled by civilised convention, while Shamus is out to shock and outrage, and defy convention at every opportunity. This is not an unreasonable thing to do (and probably seems less outrageous in today's post-punk world than it did when the novel was first published), but defying normal rules for the sake of it makes Shamus extremely tiresome. The title, to return to what I was saying, implies that Aldo is both naive and sentimental, so supporting the idea that Shamus is an aspect of his own personality.
)Review number: 822
The Naive and Sentimental Lover is unique in le Carré's outpur. It is not a thriller, but a serious novel; its subject is an obsessive relationship. Aldo Cassidy is a self made man, a magnate in the pram accessory business. He goes to Somerset to view a country house he is thinking of purchasing, and there meets a couple, squatting. Aldo falls for them both; Shamus turns out to be a famous novelist, and Helen is extremely beautiful.
Some people think this is one of the best things le Carré has done; other that it is the worst. This is probably decided by their response to the character of Shamus. He is clearly intended to be charming, but to me he comes across as one of the most selfish and obnoxious characters in any novel. (No prizes for guessing what I think of The Naive and Sentimental Lover!) I hate embarrassing behaviour, to the extent of frequently turning off TV comedy, and Shamus is to me the epitome of loud and embarrassing. Le Carré is ambivalent about Shamus himself, and by the end of the novel, Aldo has come to hate him, but my problem is that it is difficult to see why he every thought otherwise.
I have read somewhere that The Naive and Sentimental Lover is to some extent autobiographical, though Shamus is so over the top that this is hard to believe. Some parts of it are clearly not from life; both Helen and Aldo's wife Sandra are typical of le Carré's female characters in that they are ciphers by comparison with the men.
Another way to look at this novel is to see Shamus as the reflection of the unexpressed side of Aldo's personality. This makes the novel between the repressed, successful businessman and the wild artist. This idea makes the novel much more interesting, though it hardly provides much evidence to support this interpretation. The title is one part of it; from Romantic philosophy, where Schiller divided people into the naive, who live the natural life, and the sentimental, who do not but who long to. Shamus, it is explained in the novel, is naive, while Aldo is sentimental. This basically means that Aldo's life, until he meets Helen and Shamus, is ruled by civilised convention, while Shamus is out to shock and outrage, and defy convention at every opportunity. This is not an unreasonable thing to do (and probably seems less outrageous in today's post-punk world than it did when the novel was first published), but defying normal rules for the sake of it makes Shamus extremely tiresome. The title, to return to what I was saying, implies that Aldo is both naive and sentimental, so supporting the idea that Shamus is an aspect of his own personality.
Charles Dickens: Sketches by Boz (1836)
Edition: Heron
Review number: 823
The young Charles Dickens became a published author (anonymously) when the first of the Sketches was printed; he went on to write two volumes of them, some of which overlapped with the early parts of The Pickwick Papers. The pieces all attempt to give a picture of life in London, which remained probably the most important theme in almost all of Dickens' writing. The central theme is elaborated in a surprisingly wide variety of ways, considering the inexperience of the writer, from humorous descriptions to short stories to a vivid recreation of the lives of the former owners of the clothes in a second hand shop.
In general, the sketches combine humour and social comment; some are more amusing, some more serious (notably the ones about Newgate Prison). At their best, they foreshadow the most famous virtues of Dickens' writing; they are, however, variable in quality and some of them have dated atrociously. Sketches by Boz is the work of an extraordinarily gifted writer at the very beginning of his career, still feeling his way and not yet sure of himself.
Review number: 823
The young Charles Dickens became a published author (anonymously) when the first of the Sketches was printed; he went on to write two volumes of them, some of which overlapped with the early parts of The Pickwick Papers. The pieces all attempt to give a picture of life in London, which remained probably the most important theme in almost all of Dickens' writing. The central theme is elaborated in a surprisingly wide variety of ways, considering the inexperience of the writer, from humorous descriptions to short stories to a vivid recreation of the lives of the former owners of the clothes in a second hand shop.
In general, the sketches combine humour and social comment; some are more amusing, some more serious (notably the ones about Newgate Prison). At their best, they foreshadow the most famous virtues of Dickens' writing; they are, however, variable in quality and some of them have dated atrociously. Sketches by Boz is the work of an extraordinarily gifted writer at the very beginning of his career, still feeling his way and not yet sure of himself.
Catherine Fox: The Benefits of Passion (1997)
Review number: 824
Like Fox's debut novel, Angels and Men, her second is set at Anglican theological college Coverdale in Durham. Although it is meant to be ten years later, it is as though little has changed.
Annie Brown is training for ordination, but is more interested in the novel she is secretly writing than in her studies. Into it she puts her real feelings, has characters act in ways she wants to act but doesn't dare to, and in it she includes parts of the characters around her that she finds interesting. At the same time, she is trying to sort out her ambivalent feelings for Will, a friend of one of the other ordinands, and towards her vocation.
The novel's main failing is that it is rather too much like Angels and Men; many of the characters are very similar (and I don't just mean Johnny and Mara, common to both books). The central characters in both novels, for example, spends a lot of their time as some kind of creative artist rather than in their studies. The background of the theological college in the late twentieth century is rather limited, and it would be interesting to see what Fox could do with a different subject.
The major difference between The Benefits of Passion and Angels and Men - and one of its chief merits - is that it is much funnier. There is a fair amount of humour in the earlier novel, too, but here it is brought out far more. Joking is an important part of Annie's life, both external and internal. What has been jettisoned to make space for this and for the excerpts from Annie's novel - Mara in Angels and Men is an artist, which takes less space to describe - is dramatic background; the path Annie has travelled to where she is now is far less traumatic than Mara's. (She does, however, have a mother who must be one of the most awful in fiction.)
Angels and Men was exceptional; The Benefits of Passion is extremely good and very funny.
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