Cornflower Books

Some new books

  

     I've got handfuls of new books to introduce, starting with The Strange Case of the Composer and his Judge by Patricia Duncker, a crime novel which begins with the discovery of a group of bodies lying in the snow of the Jura. "Hurtling breathlessly through the vineyards of southern France to the gabled houses of Lübeck, through cathedrals, opera houses, museums and the cobbled streets of an Alpine village, this ... is a metaphysical mystery of astonishing verve and power."

 

   Next, not just a new book but a new publishing house, too. Peirene Press has been founded by German journalist and writer Meike Ziervogel to bring out contemporary European literature in English translation, books which are "thought-provoking, well designed, short". 

Peirene's list has been launched with Beside the Sea by Véronique Olmi, a French literary bestseller about "how a mother's love for her children can be more dangerous than the dark world she is seeking to keep at bay".

  "Mesmeric, mournful and intensely lyrical, Chef by Jaspreet Singh is ... about hope, love and memory, set against the devastatingly beautiful, war-scarred backdrop of occupied Kashmir."

This first novel was shortlisted for the 2009 Commonwealth Writers' Prize for Best Book, and has been longlisted for the 2010 International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award. Its mixture of "delicate cuisines and crude politics" sounds an intriguing one.

Good lines: the reactionary

     "In Wetherby's world, Victoria was still on the throne, a mass was still said in Latin and the horrors of contemporay syntax - contractions, split infinitives, hanging participles - held no dominion."

From The Blasphemer by Nigel Farndale.

Quick on the draw

    I wrote about Corrag by Susan Fetcher the other day (introductory post here), and if you're quick you can enter a draw to win a copy - click for details.

Novel ideas

     Coming soon to BBC Two, Sebastian Faulks presents a four part documentary, The Secret Life of the Novel.

                                               ~~~~~~

    

 

     A novelist is doing well when readers believe aspects of a work of fiction are actually true. So convincingly did Francesca Kay describe the paintings of her fictitious artist Jennet Mallow in An Equal Stillness that people are googling away, trying to find out where they can see them!

                                      ~~~~~~

How would you like to knit a novel pair of mittens? My thanks to Natalie for that link, though I fear you'll only get in to see the pattern if you're a Ravelry member.

Bright girls

    

     In the opening chapter of Jane Robinson's book Bluestockings: The Remarkable Story of the First Women to Fight for an Education there are four pages devoted to the extraordinary story of Trixie Pearson. Trixie was the child of impoverished parents, an unemployed father, a mother barely managing to keep her family fed and clothed, but she was extremely bright and Mrs. Pearson determined that somehow her daughter would go to university, and that whatever the sacrifices entailed in realising that ambition meant, ultimately the family as a whole would benefit from the young woman's academic brilliance and eventual success.

   Trixie won a scholarship to St. Hilda's, Oxford in 1932, and as her family sunk deeper into poverty, the college "invented grants and bursaries to help, some of which - so she discovered later - came straight from the pockets of her tutors". These are the bare bones of her story, there is much more to it and it makes moving reading, but Jane Robinson concludes:

"I wish those who fought so hard for the right of women to attend university and be awarded degrees could have known about Trixie Pearson. Everything about her story vindicates what they were trying to do. Despite her social background, her academic abilities were recognised and nurtured; she was encouraged to aim for the best, and supported to do so ... The family did climb out of poverty on her coat-tails, and through her own teaching, Trixie passed on the excitement of learning and the concept that nothing is impossible."

     As I read the notes to that chapter I realised with amazement that I knew Trixie Pearson, though to me she was Mrs. F.B.R. Walsh. In her later years she was an external tutor at my school, preparing girls for university entrance exams. She taught me, and I can still recall the lengthy reading list she made for me (red ink in a bold, confident hand, beginning with Aristotle's Poetics), and the end of term tea party she gave at her home for our small group at which we toasted crumpets on the fire.

   I would apologise for this personal digression, but in a sense that's the whole point of the lively, highly readable piece of social history which this book is - I had a university education because I was taught by women like Trixie Pearson who, going back several generations, blazed a trail. If we were bright enough, all things being equal, we would get there; so many women so many years before us had not had that chance. The book shows how they eventually got the opportunity and how they fared, and given often in the words of the women themselves, it is an inspiring and thought-provoking account and one which I should like my own daughters to read.

Here comes the galloping major

    

    At the heart of Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson is a very tender, very affecting love story between two people of more mature years, and as such it's a warm and uplifting novel, and one with a great deal to enjoy.

    Set in the pretty English village of Edgecombe St. Mary, where Major Ernest Pettigrew has lived virtually his whole life, the book is about his gradually developing relationship with Mrs. Ali, keeper of the village shop. That in itself is skilfully and sensitively played out, but what is less succesful are the supporting sub-plots. One, involving Mrs. Ali's extended family, was confusing and scarcely credible - it exists to provide motive for various actions and then, crucially, dramatic moments at the book's climax, but it's contrived and it creaks. The other main strand concerns the Major's insufferably shallow son, his romantic life and his involvement in plans for village development, and again credulity is stretched and unfunny farce gets in the way of what the writer elsewhere does very well indeed.

    As I'm sounding negative I must stress that I enjoyed the book thoroughly despite its weaker parts. What makes it work are the characters of the Major and Mrs. Ali, both now alone after very happy marriages, finding a common interest in literature and a sustaining friendship when the modern world is beleaguering and all too swiftly changing. The Major is a stickler for upholding standards and maintaining correct behaviour; he abhors the pushy, the crass, the impolite, but his stiff exterior hides a heart which he discovers will open to the right gentle touch. Mrs. Ali has quiet dignity and a good deal of spirit, but hers is a life of duty, so when the chivalrous Major saves her from what was to have been a miserable fate, there is a blossoming which surprises them both.

    Ignore the bumpier patches and enjoy the smoothly written, highly engaging story at the book's centre - it's quite lovely.

Another glorious library

     Have a look at this! (Move your cursor for a panoramic view, but don't go too fast or you might get dizzy). Does anyone know where the library is? I think I've seen it before in Libraries and it looks vaguely Austro-Hungarian to me, but I'm no expert.

Many thanks to Norm for the link.

Later: re. Nancy's comment, I haven't a clue what has subsequently happened to that link. It was working fine yesterday, as was Norm's, but now both have mysteriously metamorphosed into a blank page with a different url. Bizarre!

Even later: see Dark Puss's comment and all is revealed.

A bit of a boost

    I've been on BBC Radio Scotland's Book Café again today, this time talking with my fellow guests about books to give you a bit of a boost. The three of us had a very varied and interesting collection of titles at the ready (not all of which there was time to discuss), but although I managed to throw in a snatch of Stella Gibbons' classic Cold Comfort Farm, my main recommendation was Paul Gallico's delightful Flowers for Mrs. Harris (which, happily, is to be reprinted - under its other title - quite soon).

   If you can recommend any books guaranteed to lift the spirits, please tell us!

Later: I haven't responded to all the comments below, but there are many great suggestions there and other books which I don't know but have noted.

Cornflower Book Group - Travels with Charley

    

    I loved this book. The lilting cadence and gentle rhythm of Steinbeck's voice is both soothing and stimulating to the ear, his smart, wise, respectful and far-sighted reflections make him the perfect observer, and it was pure pleasure to travel with him, to see America through his keen eyes and to see him, too, for this is no neutral, arm's-length, objective account, but a very personal narrative and a sharp self-portrait.

    But the title is crucial, for this is John Steinbeck's Travels with Charley, and Charley the French (and indeed French-'speaking') poodle is the perfect companion and foil for Steinbeck. I loved their conversations, the accommodations made to suit both gentlemen's needs and temperaments, and though there was that anxious-making passage when Charley becomes ill, thankfully all is well later on.

     As the two travel the United States, the road and the miles unfold in characterful, considered prose. There are memorable encounters with people (including an appalling incident of racism) and scenes of deep engagement with the natural world; it's a compelling mix, and one which may well inspire the reader to go in search of America for themselves, or at least to discover or return to the novels of John Steinbeck.

      As I say, I loved it; how about you?

(By the way, the 'books and cakes' post can be found here).

Good lines: the happy few

     "There's nothing useless about reading the classics," said the Major, weighing the books in his hand. "I salute your continued efforts. Too few people today appreciate and pursue the delights of civilized culture for their own sake."

     "Yes, it can be a lonely pursuit," she said.

     "Then we - the happy few - must stick together," said the Major.

From Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson.

Three new books

    It's a privilege to be able to 'introduce' new books here, to point you towards titles which have only just come out or are about to be released, and we have three such freshly-minted ones today (click on the cover pictures to enlarge them).

     Helen Simonson's Major Pettigrew's Last Stand is described by Elizabeth Strout as "funny, comforting and intelligent - a modern day story of love which takes everyone ... by surprise - as real love stories tend to do."

A retired major and the widow of the village shopkeeper are brought together by a shared love of Kipling; this sounds delightful.

 

    A favourite writer of mine, Sue Gee, says of Judith Allnatt's The Poet's Wife: "meticulously researched, and beautifully realized, Judith Allnatt has steeped herself so deeply in the period and milieu. I admire her very much."

John Clare, poet, genius, "madman"; his wife Patty - what does she do when the man she loves is lost to her through the strange workings of his mind.

 

    And now to seventeenth century Scotland and the Massacre of Glencoe. Corrag, by the acclaimed Susan Fletcher, features a young woman who is condemned for her involvement in the terrible events of 13th. February, 1692. Accused of witchcraft and murder, she awaits her death in prison where she meets Charles Leslie, an Irish propagandist and Jacobite who is keen to implicate the protestant King William in the massacre. Slowly a true friendship develops.

I want to read all three of these right now!

Writing workshops

     We were talking the other day about reading retreats, and we've mentioned book group getaways, but how about writing workshops? I'm sure there are lots of short residential courses around, but I've just come upon some interesting-looking holiday-type ones in south west France.

     Hosted by Les Soeurs Anglaises, you could do poetry with Roger McGough (I have a copy of "Lily the Pink" on vinyl from his Scaffold days!!) or general creative writing, or even screen and crime writing. On the other hand, you could always learn the tango!

In short

   

     It so happens that I have two collections of short stories on the go just now, Arthur Conan Doyle's The Complete Sherlock Holmes (you get plenty pages for your money with that one!) and The Pleasant Light of Day by Philip Ó Ceallaigh.

     I'm finding Holmes and Watson perfect bedtime reading, each story thoroughly engaging, of a straightforward but ingenious complexity, and each one neatly and satisfactorily complete. You might expect that Conan Doyle would need the scope of a novel to set out and solve his mysteries, and while there are much longer pieces in the collection, it is the 'small but perfectly formed' shorter ones I've begun with and have been reading with great pleasure.

    I'm not far enough on with Philip Ó Ceallaigh's book to make any definitive judgements - it might be fair to say he takes a bit of 'reading in' - but so far there has been a mixture of moods and settings, black humour and parody, though themes are already apparent. He's not nearly as gentle, as understated, as delicate even as Simon Van Booy in his short story collection  Love Begins in Winter (which I wrote about recently), so thus far is less appealing to me, but as with food, we must taste and see, and each story here is a strong, new flavour, a different class of 'bite'! 

Island life

    

    I make no apologies for writing today both here and on Cornflower about books by Michael Faulkner, that's because I've enjoyed both of them immensely, they should if possible be read in tandem, and while the one with all the words belongs on this site, the second more pictorial volume suits Cornflower very well.

    I'm sure our paths must have crossed a few years ago as, like me, Mike was formerly an Edinburgh lawyer (and that's a small world), but he left the profession to set up a furniture design and manufacture business. Sadly, the venture eventually failed, and Mike and his wife, the artist Lynn McGregor, left Scotland and moved to Mike's native Northern Ireland where they made their home on an otherwise uninhabited island in Strangford Lough.

     The Blue Cabin: living by the tides on Islandmore is the story of their new life in what was the family's summer house, a glorified hut that was once accommodation in a First World War internment camp on the Isle of Man, and since then had seen only occasional, fair weather use. But undaunted by the practical difficulties, the relative isolation, the inevitable restrictions on all sorts of activities imposed by weather and water, the pair have made a real go of it, and I'm sure there will be many readers (myself included) who would relish that sort of existence or who would at least enjoy living it vicariously through the book! As Mike says, "here was an opportunity to take back our lives, and how often do you get to say that?" He's right, and he and Lynn, though clearly well-suited temperamentally to such a change of tack, have certainly made the most of it.

    Along with all the stories of life on the island today - and they are both funny and quite hair-raising - there are many reminiscences of the time when the cabin was sanctuary of sorts for the wider Faulkner family. Mike's father was the politician Brian Faulkner, the last Prime Minister of Northern Ireland, and his stories of that time are both very touching and interesting, and some could not have been easy to write, but they make the perfect background to and contrast with the contemporary parts of the book and set everything naturally and easily in context.

    Having got a real taste for Islandmore and the pleasures and challenges of living there, I - from the comfort of my cosy armchair with all amenities to hand, of course - wanted more, so I went straight on and read Mike's second book, and please do go over to Cornflower and find about that one there.

Jumping on the bandwagon

             
                                             
Cath Kidston bookmark.       Cath Kidston book club!

     Book groups seem to be proliferating as never before, and this must be a good thing for the book trade generally, but look, now Cath Kidston is selling a handful of titles and is inviting readers to tell them about other favourites with a view to putting them on sale, too. Not sure quite how it works as a club in the conventional sense, but still ...

By the way, re. our own book group and for the avoidance of doubt (as it would appear that my introductory post may have been mis-interpreted), The Painter of Signs is a novel.

PS. It has just occurred to me that we should have Cornflower Book Group bookmarks! Anyone know of a supplier who would make up a smallish number for me at reasonable cost?

Books and chocolate

   

    The booksellers at Heywood Hill have chosen their favourite chocolates from the Prestat range and a book each to go with them (click on the shop link there to see). This need not be just a Valentine's wheeze, of course, as books and chocolate are the perfect combination any day, don't you think?

    I've got plenty of books but I lack the other stuff and writing this is just tormenting me so I shall stop here and invite you to choose your favourite combinations while I go to the nearest shop!

(The chocolate pictured here is called, if I remember rightly, Squirrel's Hamper!).

Money makes the world go round

   

    Don't you love a good name? How about Bilbo Mountwilliam and Hector Chetwode-Talbot? They both loom large in Paul Torday's new novel The Hopeless Life Of Charlie Summers, though the eponymous Charlie's name is rather more workaday than his ultimate fate might suggest.

     Hector, known as Eck, is a former soldier who has left the army with no particular career plan in mind, ending up working for his schoolmate Bilbo as an 'introducer' or client relations type in Bilbo's highly successful investment company. While golfing in France with his old friend Henry Newark, Eck encounters the rather shabby Charlie Summers, an unlikely entrepreneur selling Japanese dog food. A casual invitation to "look up" Henry at home in Gloucestershire leads Charlie to become curiously involved in Eck's life, a life which begins to go alarmingly off course when Eck's army experiences in Afghanistan are suddenly dangerously relevant to his current job, and the gathering financial storm threatens the solvency of Bilbo's firm and that of his many clients - the land-rich, cash-poor Henry among them.

     While Charlie is selling "downmarket dreams", Eck is "peddling the same at the upper end of the market", and becoming increasingly disillusioned with the job and suspicious of Bilbo's dealings. He looks for a way out, one which he hopes will feature his second-cousin Harriet of whom he says, touchingly, "Harriet had made my heart her own every time she glanced at me".

     Will Eck get his girl? Will Henry's now heavily mortgaged family estate remain intact? Will Charlie amount to more than "a trail of debts and damaged hopes"? Paul Torday tells all in a novel which is elegant, funny and highly readable. I enjoyed it very much indeed and found it reminiscent (though 'quieter' and more comfortably at ease) of the tone of Julian Fellowes' Past Imperfect, another book I strongly recommend.

Cornflower Book Group 2010: Volume 3

    

     In line with our aim of reading slightly off the beaten track and having books from a variety of periods, genres and countries, the Cornflower Book Group book for March will take us to India and the fictitious town of Malgudi. This is the creation of R.K. Narayan, one of India's greatest English language novelists and a major influence on the work of our own Alexander McCall Smith (as you'll see here).

    The more I read about Narayan, the more I want to read him, and there are quite a number of novels and short story collections to choose from, but I've picked his 1976 book The Painter of Signs, "a comic, bittersweet story of love getting in the way of progress" about Raman, the eponymous sign-painter, and the high-minded, "thrillingly independent" Daisy.

    I'll quote the reviewers to whet your appetite: "one of the most charming masters of twentieth century fiction", "manages simultaneously to be funny and desperate, topical and timeless, sardonic and fresh and as seemingly natural and uncomplicated as milking a goat ... the rope trick of irony, fun and feeling is beautifully adroit", "subtle, vivid ... extremely funny". Tempted? I hope so!

    A week on Saturday (the 20th. of February) we'll be talking about John Steinbeck's Travels with Charley, so let's put The Painter of Signs in the diary for four weeks after that, Saturday, 20th. March. The book should be easily available through libraries, shops and online (both Amazon US and UK have it), and if you can't get it locally The Book Depository can send it to you wherever you are with free worldwide delivery.

In-tray

   I referred to the in-tray yesterday, and when you consider the headache-inducing contents of some people's, mine is an absolute joy! Here are the latest additions to it. 

Neel Mukherjee's A Life Apart is described by Ali Smith as "incisive and poetic, sensual and intelligent, a novel with great breadth, heart and courage." It tells the story of Ritwik, his escape from a miserable childhood in Calcutta, his new life in England, and was published first in India to great acclaim.

 

   I began reading Amanda Craig's Hearts and Minds just before Christmas and had to put it down for something pressing, but not before I'd got involved with this compelling story of contemporary London. Newly out in paperback, the book has got great reviews, with terms such as "utterly gripping", "dynamic", "thought-provoking and deeply moving" cropping up again and again.

  

    Now, "a stellar debut. A delicious and painful tale of marriage, suffering, tolerance and sacrifice"! That's The Wives of Henry Oades by Johanna Moran, a novel based on a controversial nineteenth century court case. Henry Oades and family settle in New Zealand from England, but when his wife and children are kidnapped and then believed to be dead, Henry leaves for San Francisco, a new life and a new wife. What happens when the first Mrs. Oades turns up on the doorstep some time later? We shall see!

Retreating

    Have you ever been on a reading retreat? I think I could do with one to reduce the contents of my in-tray a bit, and while it's not likely I'll get such a thing, I can day-dream! A quick search threw up a castello near Bologna, but while that's all well and good, what I'd much prefer is a stay here. That's Hawthornden Castle, just outside Edinburgh, built in 1638 by the poet William Drummond, and it's actually for writers, not readers, but if you are a published author you can apply for a fellowship and stay there for four weeks in comparative seclusion to get on with your work. That would suit me fine.