Cornflower Books

Good lines: symbiosis

    

     "To the horse, the man is hay and oats and water, he is the brush that takes away the itch and the warm blankets over flanks chilled with sweat. To the man, the horse is the follower of his will, he pulls when the man says pull, hastens at the click of the tongue on teeth. He is the instrument between the man's hand on the plough and the furrow in the earth, and the man, through him, wields ten-fold the power of his arm."

From The Poet's Wife by Judith Allnatt.

Mind the gap?

    

     Here's a frivolous post as it's Friday and a holiday weekend for some of us.

     In the manner of those questions designed to establish personality type, such as "would you feel driven to straighten a picture that was hanging squint?", what do you feel about a gap on the bookshelves such as is pictured here? Would you be rushing to fill it and have all your books soldier-straight and supporting one another with the shelf nicely full, or does that space with books leaning in a relaxed manner either side appeal more and speak of room to expand your collection, i.e the future occupants of those few inches are perhaps yet to arrive?

    I ought to say that being short of shelf space here once again, that bit is only empty because we overfilled it before and all came crashing down, but I rather like the sense of possibility and the absence of cramming.

   So, instinctively, do you mind the gap and want everything lined up together (without being squashed or double-stacked), or does a little breathing space appeal more - what's your inclination?

Reading habits

    Here's a meme from Bookish NYC via Life must be filled up; do take it to your own blog or answer the questions in the comments on this post if you wish.

Do you snack while reading? Rarely, though like Barbara, I couldn't eat on my own without reading.

What is your favourite drink while reading? It depends on the time of day, but it's most likely to be coffee in the morning.

Do you tend to mark your books while you read, or does the idea of writing in books horrify you? I do occasionally mark passages lightly in pencil, but I would never write in a book which didn't belong to me.

How do you keep your place? Bookmark? Dog-ears? Laying the book open flat? I have a large collection of bookmarks. Dog-ears belong on dogs, and I can't bear broken or cracked spines so ...

Fiction, non-fiction or both? Both, though markedly more fiction.

Do you tend to read to the end of a chapter or can you stop anywhere? I prefer a natural break of one kind or another.

Are you the type of person to throw a book across the room or on the floor if the author irritates you? I have never thrown a book. I have, however, beaten my head against the desk in frustration when I've encountered bad writing.

If you come across an unfamiliar word, do you stop and look it up right away? Usually - unless I'm in bed.

What are you currently reading? I've just started The Poet's Wife by Judith Allnatt and Gardening Women: Their Stories from 1600 to the Present by Catherine Horwood, while Alberto Manguel's A Reader on Reading is for taking slowly in between.

What is the last book you bought? I've just ordered Allyson Hayward's Norah Lindsay: The Life and Art of a Garden Designer.

Do you have a favourite time/place to read? Bed, either at night or in the morning (though I rarely have a lie-in).

Do you prefer series books or stand-alones? No strong preference, but I'm unlikely to read a series (or even part of it) all in one go.

Is there a specific book or author you find yourself recommending over and over? That's a tricky one as there are quite a few, but let's say One Fine Day by Mollie Panter-Downes.

How do you organise your books (by genre, title, author's last name, etc.)? By genre, and within that by author's surname.

Barbara's additional question: background noise or silence? Silence.

The history girls

   

     I'm never sure how best to categorise them, but I've got a pile of books from the period/historical shelves to introduce today, so let's start from the top and work down.

     "Better than Philippa Gregory" says The Bookseller of Anne O'Brien's work, and just out is her Virgin Widow, the story of Anne Neville, daughter of Warwick the Kingmaker, twice betrothed to the future Richard III. "A rich and compelling tale of love, ambition, lust and intrigue", and a chunky 600-pager at that.

     Next we go to pre-war Paris and Julie Orringer's novel The Invisible Bridge. This features a young Hungarian student who is given a mysterious letter to post on his arrival in the French capital - why it couldn't have been sent to Budapest from within Hungary is unclear. When Andras falls in love with Klara, another emigré, he discovers she is hiding a secret related to the letter. Then war looms closer ....

    Back in time to the Tudor court and The Confession of Katherine Howard by Suzannah Dunn. Interestingly, this is described as "a historical tale with a refreshingly contemporary feel - human drama, not costume drama", and it promises passionate love and betrayal a-plenty.

   I've slipped a male writer in among the girls with Robert Sackville-West's portrait of a house and its inhabitants, Inheritance: The Story of Knole and the Sackvilles. Childhood home to Vita Sackville-West and now owned by the National Trust, Knole is one of the largest houses in England, "all the rooms, and the objects that fill them, are freighted with an emotional significance that has been handed down from generation to generation."

   Last but by no means least, a novel set in the 1950s. The Eloquence of Desire by Amanda Sington-Williams "explores the conflicts in family relationships caused by obsessive love, the lost innocence of childhood and the terror of the Communist insurgency in Malaya", and is written in "haunting and rhythmical prose".

   Lots of good things there on the tbr pile, and a rich variety of styles as well as settings, by the look of it.

Cornflower Book Group - My Cousin Rachel

   

     A Cornish manor house sometime in the nineteenth century; an almost exclusively male, inward-looking world, one of contentment and routine; a trip abroad with terrible consequences, and a visitor, unwelcome at first but who then becomes an object of infatuation.

    Those are the bare bones of Daphne du Maurier's My Cousin Rachel, the story of Philip Ashley and his eponymous relative, a book with a subtle atmosphere of unease which creates in the reader a sense of foreboding and a desire to wrest the central character from a fate largely of his own making.

    Philip's feelings about Rachel, the widow of his cousin Ambrose who has brought him up and been his companion, corkscrew from imagined hate and despising to surprised tolerance and then love - of a sort. His head is turned, and he shows himself as variously rash, foolish, impetuous, petulant, immature and vulnerable. Rachel, as we discover, has the whip hand, the shady accomplice (Rainaldi), the greed and profligacy to lead her to adopt desperate measures, and the means by which to dispose of unwanted men. Did she do it? Did she murder Ambrose and try to poison Philip? Is Philip a reliable narrator?

   Whether or not we can satisfactorily answer these questions we can, I think, admire the story-telling here, and the way in which du Maurier seems to know her 'hero' inside out; the narrative struck me as very complete, thoroughly worked through, and the edge of menace is palpably sharp. What did you think of it? 

Festivalising

    In the midst of writing tomorrow's CBG post on My Cousin Rachel, it occurred to me that the Daphne du Maurier Festival is currently on in Cornwall. A quick look at the programme shows me that had we been there earlier in the week we could have gone on the My Cousin Rachel guided walk (with cream tea!), and tomorrow we could attend a performance of the dramatised version of the book.

   My question today is prompted by that festival but is by no means a negative comment on it or any other: are we reaching festival overload? Are there now just too many literary events here in Britain? They do seem to be proliferating (there are apparently over 100 on this list), and while it is lovely for people in all parts of the country to have the chance to see a favourite author in conversation about their work or giving a reading or a masterclass, is their very ubiquity making them commonplace, and not the draw they once were? Is there still room for more, and do writers welcome these chances to meet their readership and promote their books, or has it become a never-ending circuit round which they wish they didn't have to tread? By the way, I speak as one who lives on the doorstep of the biggest (and best?!) book festival in the world and I've attended probably hundreds of its events over the years, so 'I'm alright Jack', but any thoughts on this generally?

Edited to add: here's Michael Holroyd's view.

Troubles it is

    

     We've talked about The Lost Man Booker Prize and the books which were shortlisted for it, well now the winner has been announced and it is J.G. Farrell's Troubles.

   Rural Ireland, 1919, and Major Brendan Archer settles into the faded grandeur of the Majestic Hotel to meet again the fiancée he acquired "on a rash afternoon's leave" three years before. The young woman is, however, elusive and the engagement destined not to endure, but the Major cannot seem to leave the crumbling place, and despite its discomforts he passes the summer "surrounded by gently decaying old ladies and proliferating cats". Beyond the shabby splendour of the Palm Court, trouble is brewing as the struggle for Irish independence takes on new force ...

Rachel Cooke's piece on the book whets my appetite even more, especially what she says about the ending!

A million books and more

     Here's a short film about the London Library: a million books, and as for the members, the great and the good at every turn (as I discovered on my recent visit there).

     I see that Amazon have temporarily sold out of our next CBG book, Death Comes for the Archbishop but The Book Depository has it if you're looking to buy online.

     I've been re-reading the comments on Monday's post (and more have arrived) and I'm very grateful for all your kind and encouraging words. I love the mixture of possible approaches to the backlog problem from Dark Puss's 'strength through misery' attitude and being ruthless, to Mike's speed-reading idea (he might be onto something there), to Rhys's suggestion to which my immediate reaction was 'but that would be to admit defeat!' (which shows you how bad I am), to all the exhortations to relax and the reminders that actually I am 'in charge', which is something I tend to forget. I feel better now!!

Micro-blogging

     

     

     I thought I'd be brief and to the point today (especially in the light of yesterday's post and all your very helpful comments - for which many thanks).

                     

Current reading: The Dog Who Came In From The Cold, and Freddie de la Hay, Pimlico terrier, is officially in the service of his country and possibly in great danger at the hands of some Russians! Meanwhile, chapter 50 is entitled "The yeti goes shopping" (at Fortnum & Mason, actually). In what other book would you encounter such things? Great fun.

Just arrived: The Pindar Diamond. I loved Katie Hickman's The Aviary Gate so I'm really looking forward to this sequel which is set in Venice in 1604. I'm expecting lots of atmosphere, intrigue and romance ....

Just finished: Rosie Thomas' Lovers and Newcomers. Once the middle-aged characters stopped trying to recapture their youth, this was an engaging read with some thought-provoking strands on growing older, loss, love and independence. An English country house novel with a difference.

Apologies and explanations

    I must apologise, firstly, for being way behind with answering emails, so if you've written and not yet had a reply, it's not that I'm ignoring you, but unless messages are urgent I sometimes have to leave them to do in a batch, and other things have had to take precedence.

    More crucially on the subject of time and priorities, I know I bang on about the number of books I've got waiting to be read but it has grown to such a degree that something must be done - and I'm not sure what. I am reading more now than ever before but when parcels arrive with virtually every post I simply cannot keep up, despite the number of hours I put in each day. When people are kind enough to send me books I feel bad if I can't get to them within a reasonable amount of time (though I make no promises when I accept them), but I want to make clear that no book has been forgotten or overlooked, all are here in orderly piles, logged into my system, and I'm making every effort to read them as soon as I can. Meanwhile, everything which comes in is on display over there in the constantly changing 'new arrivals' list in the right hand sidebar, so you can see what's coming even before I get to write an introductory post for it, and there are lots of good things there to look forward to.

   I'm wondering how best to tackle this backlog, and any suggestions would be welcome. I could have a complete break from posting for a while and do nothing but read. I could be ruthless and read, say, twenty or thirty pages of a book and if it hasn't impressed me by that point then consign it to a 'not to be read' pile and move on. I could, of course, not accept any books for a few months and ignore the ones which come unsolicited, but it's the constant inflow that enables me to bring new things to readers' attention, and lots of people tell me they like that 'current' aspect of the site.

   My excitement about every new book remains extremely high - the day I become blasé or underwhelmed will be the day it's time to stop - and I consider myself privileged to be in this position, so I'm not bored or fed up, just trying to manage things better and be fair to all.   

Exterior decor

    
     Is there a vogue for book covers which resemble curtain material or wallpaper? Never mind dustjackets, you could have 'loose covers'! Moving swiftly on, these floral designs are much more appealing than some of the awfulness books are put in, and going on nothing more than appearances I'd certainly pick up both The Unspoken Truth and Lovers and Newcomers if I saw them in a shop. 

Books in brief

      

    I read Brodeck's Report by Philippe Claudel when it came out last year and I thought it was an outstanding novel. I'm so pleased to see that it has just won the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize, the prize being shared between author and translator (it struck me that John Cullen had done his job particularly sensitively).

 

    

     A more recent but very different reading highlight has been David Mitchell's The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet. It has now been released (so all rush to shops and libraries without delay!), and I hope it gets the enormous readership and recognition that it deserves.

Writing historical fiction successfully is no easy task, and David Mitchell discusses the pitfalls - and the genre's beginnings - in this very good article.

Cornflower Book Group 2010: Volume 6

  

     I've just finished reading the Cornflower Book Group book for May, (and there's still time to join us if you'd like to as we'll be discussing My Cousin Rachel from Saturday the 22nd.), so I've been choosing our June title, and as usual, looking for something different - different country, period and style.

     Willa Cather's name leapt out of the master list of suggestions, and I've gone for her Death Comes for the Archbishop, first published in 1927 but set in the nineteenth century. More an episodic narrative than a novel as such, here's the blurb:

"In 1851 Bishop Latour and his friend Father Vaillant are dispatched to New Mexico to reawaken its slumbering Catholicism. Moving along the endless prairies, Latour spreads his faith the only way he knows - gently, although he must contend with the unforgiving landscape, derelict and sometimes openly rebellious priests, and his own loneliness. Over nearly forty years, the two friends leave converts and enemies, crosses and occasionally ecstasy in their wake. But it takes a death for them to make their mark on the landscape for ever ..."

   Of the reviewers, A.N. Wilson is mightily impressed: "I am completely bowled over by it; by the power of its writing, by the vividness of its scene painting and by the stories it tells ... This will be a book which I go on rereading", while for Jane Gardam this is "a tremendous, ranging story, economical and distilled as poetry."

   Let's set the discussion to begin on Saturday, 19th. June, which should be plenty time as the book seems to be readily available through libraries and retailers (you might try The Book Depository if you have any difficulty locally as they offer free delivery) and it's not long! I hope this will prove to be a good discovery for many of us and perhaps a welcome re-read for others; we're open to all so please come and read it with us.

The Brontës (as you've never seen them before)

    Thanks to Austenprose for the link - pure silliness, but this is very funny!

The music of the night

    

    Here's a book you could not accuse of being bland, dull or slow! Patricia Duncker's new novel The Strange Case of the Composer and his Judge is described as "a metaphysical mystery of astonishing verve and power", and that's not far off the mark.

    To the judge, first, and she is Dominique Carpentier, a juge d'instruction, or gatherer of evidence in the inquisitorial system. Based in the south of France, she is known as la chasseuse de sectes for her interest and expertise in investigating religious cults, suicide sects and the like, and she is famously shrewd, self-controlled, disciplined and efficient. The composer is Friedrich Grosz, renowned musician, commanding, audacious, the force of his personality always evident regardless of his mood. The two meet when the judge begins working on a bizarre case involving a mass suicide in the snow of the Jura. The dead are members of The Faith, "the night side of conventional belief, the Dark Host itself" - not a group of the vulnerable or easily duped, but one to which prominent figures in the arts and science belong.

   Who or what is behind the group and their deaths? The judge must find out, and with the help of her detective/lover Schweigen and a strange old book or grimoire, clues lead her from the medieval streets of Lübeck and a performance of Tristan und Isolde, to Lake Geneva, the British Museum, the Albert Hall and a dramatic conclusion at Jodrell Bank of all places!

    The plot canters along, sometimes collected, elsewhere with a few skittish bucks and rears where it might better have been taken in hand, and then it accelerates to what I thought was rather an abrupt finish, though it certainly carries all with it. Patricia Duncker seems to keep her characters at arm's length, both from herself and the reader, and that detachment is limiting; I'd like to have been shown a more human side of the judge, as perhaps of the messianic composer, and there is an almost inevitable coup de foudre which thus works on one level but is less convincing on another.

    Reason, faith, astronomy, ancient beliefs, the darkness and the light - it's all here: elemental, my dear Watson!

To be read

    

    I've got lots of very promising-looking new books to talk about here, so let's start the first batch with Lindsay Stanberry-Flynn's novel Unravelling:

"A passionate and involving read", this is about Vanessa and Gerald - she an art student, he a sculptor and her tutor - who first fall in love in the 1960s. Though Vanessa sees them as the glamorous couple of the art world, and their thrilling relationship leads to marriage, all is not as it seems. "Exploring the complexity and contradictions of love and sexual attraction .... Unravelling is a story that engages both the heart and the mind."

     Next, "a cane-twirling, bowler-doffing triumph", Sunnyside by Glen David Gold has a huge cast of characters including Mary Pickford, Charlie Chaplin and even Rin Tin Tin the dog! It's "a panoramic tale of power and stardom, ambition and dreams", and the reviews are peppered with words like "sumptuous" and "entrancing".

    Coming out soon is Jennie Rooney's novel The Opposite of Falling. I really did enjoy her first book, Inside the Whale, (read about it here) so I shall be keen to read her new one which begins in 1862 and features Cook's tours, an independent young woman from Liverpool and Niagara Falls seen from a great height.

    Now for some non-fiction and Chloë Schama's Wild Romance: The True Story of a Victorian Scandal. 1852 and a flirtation aboard a steamer turns into a clandestine, epistolary affair and a secret marriage in Edinburgh [local interest - always a hook for me]. But Theresa Longworth and the aristocratic William Charles Yelverton will be separated by circumstance and will never live together as man and wife, and when Yelverton marries another woman, Theresa is forced to prove the validity of their union. Steamy intrigue and women's rights make this "a delightful and gripping debut".

   Lastly today, Maggie O'Farrell's latest novel, The Hand That First Held Mine. Maggie O'Farrell is someone I've wanted to read for quite a while, her reputation goes before her, reviews on many trusted sites reinforce it; her new book is set in 1950s Soho and in the present day, and if you follow that link you can see the author talking about this "spellbinding story of love, loss and redemption."

Hearing voices

   

   

     The election coverage (and the effects of only three hours sleep) mean little reading is likely to be done here today, but I have two books on the go which will suit whether it's pepping up I need or perhaps calming down after too much caffeine.

    For excitement, intrigue and a many-faceted puzzle, Patricia Duncker's The Strange Case of the Composer and his Judge is proving quite gripping, but I've noticed that it's often non-fiction which I turn to when tired, and my current book at bedtime is Alberto Manguel's A Reader on Reading, an essay at a time, that quieter, more personal voice a pleasant contrast to the dramatic one of Duncker's novel. 

   Voice, I think, is crucial in any book - pitch, pace, rhythm, the timbre of the prose - is it a voice you can listen to comfortably, or is it one so defined by its colour, range or depth that you can hear only so much before you feel inclined to 'switch off'. Mood tells in voice, of course, from the 'vocal smile' to the dark notes that bespeak the sombre countenance, and that's more or less audible according to the volume at which the writer is speaking. I'm labouring this, I know, but I do read books rather as I listen to music or tune into a speaker's accent or particular vocal emphasis, so 'voice' in books is key (no pun intended) and very powerful.

                                                   ~~~~~

After that thought for the day, my thanks to everyone who has left a comment on last week's 'In profile' post. I've yet to analyse or properly compare all the answers to the three questions (and do, please, add yours if you haven't already done so), but there does seem to be a large area of common reading ground and many interesting divergences. The multitude of books listed there could keep us busy - and no doubt happy - for quite some time.

Fact of the day

   I don't see how this can be right, but apparently Cornflower Books is at no. 6 in Wikio's top culture blogs rankings. My reaction to this - apart from incredulity - is an Eeyore-ish "it'll never last..."

Quote of the day - 2

     "There are three rules for writing a good book," said Somerset Maugham. "Unfortunately, no-one knows what they are."

From A Reader on Reading by Alberto Manguel.

Quote of the day

     Jeanette Winterson on how she will spend election evening:

"I will go to Ruth Rendell's home, because she and P.D. James are having a cross-party baroness night, which shows true open-mindedness ..."

Wouldn't you love to be there?