Reading Journal: Remainder of Week 19, 2010

With no reading journal entry posted since Tuesday, you’d certainly be forgiven fellow reader for thinking that my reading had ground to a halt over these past few days. The fact is however, that my reading has continued unabated and it is only a lack of blogging time that has stopped me from keeping you updated. So, for the sake of thoroughness here’s a rundown on the rest of reading highlights from my week, and I apologise in advance for the impossible and unrelenting length of this post.

****

In my last journal entry I noted that the usual pair of Chekhov tales had to be read for my Checkin’ Off the Chekhov Shorts reading challenge. The stories were The Chemist’s Wife and Not Wanted. Both stories turned out to be OK, but neither was all that much above average. You can catch up with my afterthoughts on both stories HERE and HERE.

****

My journey through Beruit39 (Bloomsbury) – the anthology published in conjunction with the Hay Festival, to raise awareness of contemporary writers from around the Arab world – has continued, and since my last entry I’ve worked my way through another three contributions. Let’s have a look at those.

First up, on Tuesday, was a short story from Palestinian novelist Adania Shibli (the first female contribution I’ve read from the anthology). The story, At The Post Office opens with young Palestinian girl Afaf having just finished her very day of school. Despite her best efforts at savouring the moment, any excitement she might have felt on reaching such a momentous day, is quickly dispersed when she realises the fate that is ahead of her.

This is a wonderful little tale from Shibli and it’s one which I found to be delightfully playful and humorous. I’m not sure of Shibli’s influences in her writing life – aside from those of her own ethnic background of course – but there is something wonderfully Chekhovian about this story when it comes to both its humour and the woeful dead-end situation in which the main character Afaf finds herself. For me, definitely one of the best stories of this anthology so far. Story Rating:

Moving on to next contribution from Beirut39 and next up for my reading consumption was the wonderfully titled, Frankenstein in Baghdad by Iraqi novelist and journalist Ahmad Saadawi. The story follows an unnamed man as he wanders the bomb-torn streets of Baghdad in search of discarded garbage of worth which he can sell to antique dealers. As its title may suggest though, scrap metal etc. isn’t the only thing o the collector’s mind as he attempts to reconstruct a corpse which is rotting on the roof of his home.

As one might expect this is a pretty powerful story, containing a large element of the macabre. On one level Frankenstein in Baghdad could be read as a straightforward tale of a man descending into madness, during a period of recent history when abhorant behaviour and insanity would seem to be the only option. However, on another level this story reads as so much more. It reveals itself as a more contemplative piece of fiction – one which explores a city bleeding from an open wound; a city being oppressed daily by paranoia and fear. What better person to give an indication of the state of such a city than a journalist on the bleeding edge, and with this story Saadawi certainly does just that. Hugely powerful stuff! Story Rating:

The other contribution that I’ve read from Beirut39 over the past few days – a short story called Coexistence – comes from Palestinian author Ala Hlehel. It’s a short tale recalling the spate of suicide bombings on the northern Israeli city of Haifa, by Palestinian Islamic organisation, Hamas. The unnamed narrator – a Palestinian – drafts a letter to an Hamas general imploring him to stop young Palestinian men blowing themselves up on the streets of Haifa. Why? The main reason it seems is that it brings a lot of media attention to the city, causing much discourse on the question of whether Arabs and Jews are able to coexist in Haifa.

After reading this story I did a bit of research so that I may better understand it. I think now, that I do. Other than the obvious desire to avoid bloodshed, it seems that Haifa is often seen as a model city for Arab-Jewish coexistence, so any threat to that would be damaging, both for relations in the city, and for the larger political ‘map’ as a whole. So a straightforward political tale? Not quite. This one has a personal element to it too, making it all the more readable. Story Rating:

****

Moving on to my journey through Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio’s upcoming short story anthology of imaginary fiction, Stories (Headline Publishing), and I’ve ticked off another four tales over the few days. It began with the one I’d mentioned in my last reading journal entry, The Stars are Falling by Texan author Joe R. Lansdale.

The story follows Deel Arrowsmith as he returns home to his East Texas farm after spending the last four years in the First World War trenches. Greeting him is a wife (Mary Lou) who never expected him to return (he was presumed dead) and a son (Winston) who is still too young to remember him. It’s not long before awkwardness gives way to revelation, as it becomes clear that Arrowsmith’s family have been getting some help around the farmstead; help in the form of Tom, a young lad who was guided by Arrowsmith before the war, in the ways of farming and hunting.

Now, I’m going to be totally honest here and say that this story is, to some degree, rather predictable. However I sense that this was intentional on the part of the author, because the story ends on an entirely different and more dynamic note to the one that may be expected. What begins as a calculable storyline ends with something wholly unpredictable, and it is this which makes the story for me, stand out as being good. Factor in Lansdale’s treatment of Arrowsmith coming to terms with the horrors he witnessed in war, and what one has is not just a good story, but an exceptional one. Story Rating:

Juvenal Nyx, the next story in Gaiman and Sarrantonio’s anthology, is an altogether more phantasmagorical affair. New York-based writer Walter Mosley tells the tale of black activist James Tremont, who lives and operates in New York City. OK so it doesn’t sound all that fantastical does it, but what if I told you that the appearance of a woman called Julia changes Jimmy’s life radically, and that the change comes with a new name meaning ‘child of the night’? That offers an altogether more promising reading prospect doesn’t it?

I don’t think I’m giving too much away by saying that James – soon to be called Juvenal Nix – is transformed into something a little more vampiric, and that his activist activities take on more of a blood searching quality. Normally I baulk at any story that even hints at vampire activity, but I’ve got to admit that Mosley does a fine job with this one. Not only does he use his in-depth knowledge of New Yorkian geography to whizz us all around the streets of New York (a plus for someone like me who’s obsessed with the Big Apple), but he tells his tale for the most part, in a very sophisticated and erotic kind of way. It does get a little too silly for me towards the end but I’d enjoyed enough story reading goodness by then, to excuse Mosely his rather overly fanciful ending. Story Rating:

If the last story in the anthology was marked by it’s long length, then the next is certainly marked by its shortness. Spanning no more than three full pages, The Knife by Richard Adams – author of Watership Down – must be considered a work of flash fiction. However, don’t let its short length trick you into thinking that this story is any less powerful than anything in the anthology that has come before it.

The Knife follows Philip, a public schoolboy who has been systematically bullied by Stafford, head prefect of the house. The shortness of the tale prevents me from saying much more without giving away spoilers, so I’ll just close these thoughts by saying that this a well-rounded, accomplished piece of fiction writing, which still manages despite its short length, to give a satisfying reading experience. That must stand as the mark of a master storyteller. Story Rating:

And so I come to the final offering I’ve read thus far in the Stories anthology, and what a turn of focus this one brings with it. Weights and Measures comes from the great literary novelist Jodi Picoult. And literary in flavour is definitely what this story is, as it focuses on a couple (Sarah and Abe) trying to come to terms with the sudden death of their unnamed seven-year-old daughter.

Now, while I wouldn’t say that this story is imaginative to any great degree, I would say that it’s so powerful in emotion that one is compelled to keep the pages turning. In other words, this story is gripping in a different way to some of the others in this anthology. This is good because one of the primary aims of this anthology is to prove that genre is irrelevant when it comes to great fiction. This is an example of great fiction, and with the reading of this story I’m beginning to see what the purpose of this anthology is really all about. Story Rating:

****

With Wednesday’s now being my designated day for taking one step closer to completing my iPoe Reading Challenge, I set about reading Poe’s 1844 published tale, The Oblong Box. The story turned out to be OK – certainly more straightforward than last week’s offering – and you can read all about it, HERE

****

Moving on and Thursday is the day for catching up on the reading for my ongoing Trevor vs. Moore reading challenge. That meant reading a short story each from William Trevor and Lorrie Moore. Here’s how that went:

First up William Trevor and a story as usual from my precious William Trevor: The Collected Stories (Penguin). After last week’s slight disappointment that I’d finally found a Trevor short that I didn’t like (Shock! Horror!), I was eager to see if it was the beginning of a trend. The story that was next in line was the one titled Miss. Smith, and I’m happy to report that Trevor is, in my eyes, back on sublime storytelling form. Yaay!

The Miss. Smith in the title of this story is Miss. Smith a teacher, who seems to have an inherent hatred of one of her pupils – the rather weedy James Machen. Systematically bullying him and humiliating him at every opportunity, it’s not long before the young James begins to get vengeful thoughts about Miss Smith. But in this story any acts of revenge are slow in the coming, and very thoughtfully considered.

One of the reasons I adore reading William Trevor so much, is that he never shows a sense of urgency in his storytelling, and this story demonstrates this perfectly. This is a story that unwinds without urgency or pace, and reading it feels akin to sipping on a fine malt whiskey rather than downing it in a single gulp (I would imagine, because I’m actually teetotal so I wouldn’t know for sure ). This is an exquisitely penned tale from Trevor, and although it is somewhat predictable in nature, Trevor takes the reader gracefully by the hand and leads him to a climatic ending. It’s not often that a writer can leave me glowing after I’ve read them, but Trevor – with the exception of last week’s story offering – seems to be able to do it time and time again. Story Rating:

The Lorrie Moore story I read this week, which comes from the usual Lorrie Moore: The Collected Stories (Faber Books), was called Strings Too Short to Use. The story follows the same characters – Benna and Gerald – who were involved in the last Moore short I read, Escape from the Invasion of the Love-Killers, but in this one both have different jobs. Seemingly pleased with the discovery a lump in her breast, Benna goes on to contemplate her relationship with the man she loves (kind of), Gerald, and the rest of the people in her life. Rising to the fore once more is the theme of loneliness, coupled this time with a yearning for change.

So that’s Strings Too Short to Use in a nutshell, and a very vague one at that. Why? Well, because I couldn’t really get my head around this story, and that’s mainly because I didn’t connect with it as I know I should. There’s no doubt that Moore is supremely talented in her storytelling – the quality of this story only reaffirms this belief – but I’m not absorbing Moore’s words as I do with other writers, and it’s putting doubts into my mind; thoughts that this whole Trevor vs Moore ‘face off’ thing is turning a little futile. Maybe the resonance of Moore’s writing is pitched more towards the female reader? Maybe only women are able to invoke the level of empathy and understanding needed to connect with these stories from Moore? Whatever the reason I’m just not getting it at the moment. And whether I ever will remains to be seen. I’ll continue the reading challenge for now, but my journey forward is a tentative one. Story Rating:

I should perhaps close this journal entry by affirming that my read through of the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize shortlist is continuing. You probably know that the winner of this year’s Foreign Fiction Prize was announced this past Thursday – Philippe Claudel, Brodeck’s Report (MacLehose Press) – which kind of invalidates the whole reading project for me. Well, actually I don’t think it does. Despite predicting the winner myself without reading all six of the shortlisted titles, I really want to follow through to the end of this reading project (not least because all of the books in the shortlist are exceptional). So my read through of this year’s Foreign Fiction Prize shortlist continues, and I’ll be offering a retrospective post at the end, when I’ve finished reading them all.

‘Reading Journal’ provides an unedited, on-the-fly record of the bookish highlights in Rob’s reading day.