*****

So I’ve reached the end of my island-hopping journey through Judith Schalansky’s Atlas of Remote Islands, and it’s time to offer up a few afterthoughts on it. You may remember, if you read my forethoughts, that I was quite taken by the book’s beautiful design, but my biggest fear was whether all of the work that had go into the design was only to disguise poor content. Well, I’ll alleviate any fears of this straight away because the content of the book certainly DOES live up to expectation, matching the quality of book’s presentation, perfectly.

Well crafted narrative
I think Schalansky is a fine writer. I was looking forward to her picking me up and taking me around fifty nondescript islands around this planet Earth, but I’d feared that she’d be like one of these monotone museum guides (you know, the ones you sometimes get lumbered with on museum visits. They’re knowledgeable enough but their delivery is just so yawn). Thankfully, Schalansky isn’t anything like that at all. Her narrative is well crafted and fast moving, and she can certainly a whip up a good story – based on fact, allegedly – and present it in an engaging way.

Brings out a spectrum of emotion
Yep, I was thoroughly entertained by Atlas of Remote Islands. I giggled at the life led by the ‘governor’ and his ‘subject’ on Saint Paul Island (well, until the end of the story at least). I wept at the plight of the poor slaves who were left deserted on the island of Tromelin (seven of them got the last laugh though). I took with a pinch of salt the story of Atlasov Island and how it began life as a mountain in the middle of Lake Kurile in Kamchatka, before the other mountains in the area got jealous of it and forced it to find a new home in the sea. And, I was left shocked and shaken by the islanders of Tikopia and their rather horrifying solution to population growth (apparently the island’s natural resources can sustain 1200, and not a single islander more). So a wide range of subjects and a whole spectrum of emotion shown there, by me (not deep emotion, but emotion all the same) so I think I can safely say that I think there’s a little something in Atlas of Remote Islands for everyone.

Over too quickly
As much as I enjoyed Atlas of Remote Islands I do have two minor complaints about it (if you can really call them complaints). Firstly, I managed to whizz through the book is next to no time. That’s good because it shows I enjoyed the book, but you’d think, given that the Atlas of Remote Islands features FIFTY islands, that there would be plenty to keep me reading for a long time. Not so, in actual fact most of the book is made up of eye candy – full page maps, timelines, distance graphs etc. with only half a page of prose being given for each island. Of course it’s definitely a case of writing quality over quantity with this one, but if somebody picks this up expecting it to offer them a substantial reading experience, then they’re going to be a little disappointed.

A bit on the pricey side?
My second minor niggle regards the price. £25 seems rather a lot for a book that only amounts to only 143 pages (including introduction and index). I know this book is beautiful and a lot of work and effort has gone into creating it, but I for one would have to think twice about buying this book to put it on my own bookshelves (I’m reading a library copy. I know, I’m a skinflint )

Flawless translation
Finally, I should give brief mention on the translation of this book by Christine Lo. The translation is invisible, it reads as though originally written in English. The prose is neither awkward at any point, nor ambiguous. And the narrative flows freely. That’s down to a good translator that is, so Lo deserves big credit on this one.

The perfect present
In summing up then I’d have to say that I really liked Atlas of Remote Islands. I know I moaned about the price and the short length of Schalansky’s narrative pieces, but putting this aside this is still a thoroughly enjoyable and entertaining book. I guess it’s one you should think about buying yourself as an indulgent treat, or as a special gift for someone else. If you are thinking of doing that then I can think of no finer choice.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

:: What others have said about Atlas of Remote Islands::

• “[Atlas of Remote Islands] is an utterly exquisite object.” – Robert Macfarlane, Guardian Books.
• “This is a great coffee table book, perfect for history buffs, dreamers or anyone who sticks pins in their maps and obsessively uses “GTrot” on Facebook.” - Blair H, The Lost Girls.
• “Every single page of The Atlas of Remote Islands is as individual and enchanting as the island it describes.” – Worm, The Dabbler.

Particular Books | 07 October 2010 | £25.00 | HARDBACK | 144 PP | ISBN: 9781846143489

Judith Schalansky will be appearing at the Edinburgh International Book Festival, in a Newton First Book Award event with Alastair Bruce, on Friday 19th 6:45pm – 7:45pm. For ticket information and booking, please visit the event page on the EdBookFest website.

*****

It’s taken me a while getting to the end of Kevin Barry’s debut short story collection, but it’s been a journey that has definitely thrilled and entertained me every step of the way. I began reading There Are Little Kingdoms way back in August of last year, in preparation for his EdBookFest event with Simon Van Booy (you can read my report on that event, HERE). It was, to be honest, my first exposure to the writings of Barry. Originally I only saw it as background reading for the event I was attending but very quickly, as I began to get drawn into Barry’s incredible rich and vivid storytelling world, I began to form a very high opinion of the Limerick-born writer.

Having now finished There Are Little Kingdoms I can state with complete conviction that Kevin Barry has gained a place in my exclusive pool of favourite short story writers, simply because I’ve seldom read anything as rich and character-filled as this collection (and if you think he’s impressive in print then you should see him live).

Before I go on to tell you a little more about the collection (outwith what I’ve already written in my forethoughts post), and discuss some of my favourite stories, I’ll share with you my review summaries and ratings for each of the stories in the There Are Little Kingdoms collection (links lead to my full review for each story):

• Atlantic City – “James [the story's main character] stands on a pedestal as a god among men (and women), and Barry exalts him magnificently” – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• To the Hills - “a great story…Barry captures mood and moment brilliantly” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• See The Tree, How Big It’s Grown – “I felt as though this was more of an opening to a novel rather than a standalone short” – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Animal Needs – “a quality story from Barry that’s full of wit and humour” – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Last Days Of The Buffalo – “I adored this story for the way in which Barry so well-roundedly paints one of his characters” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Ideal Homes – “Definitely the best Barry story I’ve read so far. Full marks!” – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• The Wintersongs – “this story resonates with the spirit of Maupassant (even though it’s set in Ireland)” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Party At Helen’s – “If Kevin Barry has a repository in his head for storing characters then it must look a lot like this story” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Breakfast Wine – “Barry expertly brings out little nuances and subtleties in character and surroundings” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Burn The Bad Lamp – “I left this story 100% chuckling and 100% satisfied” – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• There Are Little Kingdoms – “I adored Barry’s description of town life, but ultimately this story is all a bit bewildering” – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Nights At The Gin Palace – “A superbly entertaining tale from Barry, one that’s put me on the verge of dubbing him the Irish Chekhov” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• The Penguins - “A real treat of a story, even if it does take something of a diversion from the other tales in this collection” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

So what can I say about the collection as a whole? Well I think I can state without fear of contradiction, that There Are Little Kingdoms is most definitely Irish in flavour. That said, if only Barry’s vision were to be believed, then Ireland consists of nothing more than drunkards and odd characters. And that’s because just as Chekhov often presents his characters in a largely exaggerated and humourous way to overly emphasis the theme/meaning of his stories, Barry specifically engineers overstated characters in order to magnify his observations of the more marginal aspects of Irish life (an area in which he takes obvious enjoyment in exploring). He does so with triumphant effect, and as such most of Barry’s characters are so well-rounded and so fully formed (within the confines of the short story form of course), that his stories could stand as the literary equivalent of the 3D movie.

I kid you not dear reader, Barry’s characters bring so much vibrancy and life to the page, that the book almost feels as though it has a heartbeat of it’s own. So it’s no coincidence perhaps that the stories which stood out most for me in this collection, were the ones which contained the most outrageous characters. Take my favourite story of the collection for instance, Ideal Homes, which follows the exploits of randy teenage twins Donna and Dee as they set out on a night out in their local village. The story is hilarious, not only because of the twins but also because of the kind of rockin’ night than can be had (or rather can’t be), in a sleepy Irish village.

Nights At The Gin Palace is also marked out as an outstanding story for me because this one is as close in style and quality to Chekhov, as anything I’ve ever read from any modern-day writer (regulars at RobAroundBooks know how much I admire and value the Russian master, so you can be sure that this is indeed high praise from me).

Finally I should mention Burn The Bad Lamp because this is another tale for which I awarded full marks, but this time it wasn’t so much about sparkling characters but more about Barry’s sharp humour. If anyone ever asked me which single story they should read in order to gain a real sense of Barry’s level of humour, then this would undoubtedly be the one I’d choose (followed closely by Atlantic City).

To be honest I can’t really praise There Are Little Kingdoms enough, so I’m going to stop trying. But in closing I really want ot say that this collection has depth, it has variety and it is has substance. But most importantly of all There Are Little Kingdoms has consistency. It’s often the case with single author collections that they turn out to be something of a mixed bag. The author mixes in his best stories with a few that are not so hot (I don’t know what the official term is but I like to call them ‘fillers’), and the collection ends up being fairly average. I didn’t really get a sense of this from this collection (with the possible exception of one story – See The Tree, How Big It’s Grown, which felt somewhat incomplete), and that’s an incredibly very rare thing to find. So my suggestion is not to even think about it twice. Pick up a copy of There Are Little Kingdoms at your earliest convenience, and prepare yourself for one of the most entertaining short story collections that you’re ever likely to read.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Stinging Fly Press | Oct 2007 | €9.99 | PAPERBACK | 154 PP | ISBN: 9780955015298

:: What others have said about There Are Little Kingdoms::

• “Reading Kevin Barry’s collection is like finding a shiny two-pound coin in a pile of muck. It brings unexpected pleasure.” – Elaine Chiew, The Short Review.
• “it’s George Saunders meets The League of Gentlemen! In Ireland!” - John Self, Asylum.
• “[Barry's] prose are exquisite and highly visual, and the pages teem with human wildlife, briefly captured sentiment and sidelong glance.” – Marc Goldin, Laurahird.com.

*****

This anthology is the product of an annual competition held by quarterly culture magazine, the Bristol Review of Books, in celebration and in promotion of the short story form, and the unpublished authors who pen those stories. I’ve already written a forethoughts post on the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3 so I won’t ramble on giving you any more background information. Instead I’ll dive straight in to my review on this anthology, beginning with a rundown on my reviews for each individual story. Links lead to my full review for each story, but for your convenience (because I’m incredibly thoughtful that way ), I’ve also included a snippet from each review, together with a final rating for each story. If you want to find out more, then just click on a related link. OK, let’s go and please be aware that my afterthoughts on the anthology as a whole continues after these listings:

• ‘Mum’s The Word’ by Valerie O’Riordan – “If you’ve ever considered flash fiction to be an ineffective storytelling vehicle, then you REALLY NEED to read this one.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Only the Sure of Foot’ by Ian Madden – “What I love most about the story though is how well Madden combines his wonderfully engaging storyline – which is quite sorrowful at times – with some beautifully painted descriptions of landscape.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Gardening’ by Rachel Howard – “I found the whole reading experience for this one to be somewhat surreal, yet at the same time wholly warming.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Man Friday and the Sockball Championships’ by Mike Bonsall – “Despite not really being a fan of anything sci-fi, this story turned out to be not that bad.” Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Two Girls Under an Apple Tree’ by Kate Brown – “There are some delicate little Dutch references in the story that both add to the feeling of cosmopolitan while giving the subtlest suggestion of ‘fairy tale’. If that’s not enough for you, then the story also comes with a clever little ending. Very enjoyable!” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Marrakech’ by Darci Bysouth – “I admire Bysouth’s skill in instilling in the reader, a real empathy for the main character. I also adore her genius in twisting things so that the plot brings something entirely unexpected. Bravo to the storyteller!” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Struthio Camelus’ by Joanna Campbell – “I’m a fan of Campbell’s writing ‘voice’. It has a certain vibrant bounciness to it, which makes it easy and enjoyable to connect with.” Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Signs of Our Redemption’ by Tara Conklin – “a good story, quite sad but very well written.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘A Sense of Humour’ by Rik Gammack – “this a clever little story from Gammack, and it’s one that really gets you thinking.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Conservation of Angular Momentum’ by Ashley Jacob – “Bath-based Jacob really surprised me with this story. It has no rhyme nor reason yet it stands as a very well-rounded little tale.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Wine at Breakfast’ by Claire King – “one of these stories that begins hazy before the mist gradually clears to reveal a rather shocking story. Such a storytelling technique is difficult to get right in my opinion, but King succeeds with much prowess.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘The Meek Inherit’ by Natasya Parker – “The reader certainly won’t walk away from this one full of the joys of Spring, but how boring would life be if every story had a Disney ending?” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘rZr and Napoleon’ by Jonathan Pinnock – “This is a wonderfully inventive story from Pinnock, and one which has a slight tinge of Edgar Allen Poe about it.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Spring Tide’ by Marli Roode – “South African-born Roode really has done a remarkable job with this story and aside from providing a few ‘morbid milestones’ as reminders that death can be imminent and sudden, she’s subtly seasons her story with a sense of impending doom, which does nothing but unsettle the reader to an even greater degree.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Born Not Made’ by Rachel Sargeant – “the way in which Germany-based Sargeant describes how music affects the main character is sublime i.e. it [the car's CD player] was giving off a sound like honey, sweet and slow that oozed into Mozza’s head and trickled down to the heart.” Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
• ‘Ten Plastic Roses’ by Yana Stajno – “Stajno possesses a wry and somewhat slapstick sense of humour, and she employs that humour well, making this story pleasurable and entertaining to read.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘An Experiment’ by Natasha Tripney – “I rather enjoyed this story from this London-based writer, which has something of an element of George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion to it.” Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Being Mother’ by Sherri Turner – “This is a great story, cleverly constructed by Cornish-born writer Sherri Turner, which comes with an ending (perhaps middle to ending is a more accurate description) that is so wholly unexpected” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Bitter Gourd Fruit’ by Ben Walker – “This is a story which has a lot crammed into its short length, and I mean that in a good way, and it’s a story which definitely feels original and fresh” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘But Then Again, Maybe it is’ by Clare Wallace – ” ‘Saving the best until last’ is an adage that almost rings true here, because this final story in this anthology is certainly one of the best of the bunch. I adored it, simply because it’s so well put together, and it reads so beautifully.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

So dear reader, what’s the first thing you notice about all 20 of these individual short story reviews? Well, probably nothing at first, except that your scrolling finger is aching a little , but if you look closer (if you haven’t already), then you will have seen that ALL of my ratings for these stories remain consistently high. Now, that’s a bit of a rarity that. I don’t know what your reading experience of these things is, but I’ve always found that the quality of stories found in a short story collection/anthology such as this, varies greatly. There is usually a handful of good stories, a lion’s share of average stories, and dare I say it, a couple of rotten apples too. Well, not so with the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3. I found that the quality of the stories remained top-notch throughout, and that’s really only down to one thing – selection i.e. the exquisite taste and quality of the judging panel; those beautiful minds (Bertel Martin, Maia Bristol, Tania Hershman, Helen Hart, Joe Berger) who not only chose the overall winner of the 2010 Bristol Short Story Prize, but the other 19 shortlisted stories included in this anthology too.

And I guess that’s one of the reasons why I’m recommending this anthology for all to read (you do by now know that I’m recommending this anthology to all to read by now, right?), because as a consequence of the judging process that it’s gone through, this is one short story anthology that stands heads and shoulders above the sea of similar publications.

O’Riordan’s a worthy winner aka brevity triumphs
So what of the stories contained within Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3? Which ones stood out as outstanding for me, and do I think that the judges were right in choosing Dublin-born Valerie O’Riordan as the overall 2010 winner? I’ll begin with O’Riordan, and say yes, the judges were absolutely spot on in declaring her story to be the winner. Don’t get me wrong, in my opinion at least half of the stories in this anthology could have took the prize, but O’Riordan’s is special, not least because she packs a hell of a punch into a story of incredibly short length. ‘Mum’s The Word’ is a work of flash fiction, the briefest of all story forms, and O’Riordan gives one on the chin to the naysayers who claim that a story can’t really be told in so few words.

The ‘best’ of the rest
So what of the other stories in this anthology? Well, I’m not just saying it but such was their quality that ANY of the other nineteen stories in this anthology could really have taken the top prize. There are, however, some stories which touched me more than others. For instance, Ashley Jacob thoroughly thrilled me with his very unique, and very entertaining tale, `Conservation of Angular Momentum’ . It’s about a guy who quite suddenly and rather unexpectedly finds himself falling through the sky above the City of Bath. It’s a clever story, full of humour, wit and colour, and it’s one that will definitely stick with me.

Another story which will stick with me for completely different reasons is Natasya Parker’s ‘The Meek Inherit’. Poor Mariette lives in the slums of the Haitian capital, Port-au-Prince, and if her life isn’t bad enough to begin with (to illustrate, mud cakes are a staple of her diet), it becomes a whole lot worse during the course of the story. Harrowing and mournful are the only words I can think of to describe this one.

Marli Roode’s ‘Spring Tide’ is also one of the stories which I will remember for a long time to come. What the South African author has given us here, is a contemplation on death and degradation, together with a reminder that we are continually surrounded by these ‘mortal milestones’. It’s powerful stuff and in many ways I felt that I could have been reading something penned by Dostoevsky, albeit with less stiffness and considerably more layers of colour and modernity.

A pleasing layout – ‘clean and uncluttered’
I really should mention how impressed I am with the presentation of the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3. The Bristol Review of Books have used a similar ‘clean and uncluttered’ layout for all of its BSSP anthologies so far, and it’s one that really works. You may have noticed in my individual story reviews that I’ve often added a personal snippet about each author, and that’s thanks to every story in the anthology coming with a brief bio of each author (which is accompanied by a ‘mugshot’ that I’m sure every author unnecessarily cringes at ), which I like because it’s nice to know something of the person behind the pen (especially when the writer up to that point, has remained unpublished).

If you hate short stories then please pick this up
So I hope dear reader that I’ve worked enough to convince you that Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3 is one well worth picking up. I was more than pleasantly surprised at the consistently and quality of the stories contained within this anthology, and as such I doubt there will be many of you out there that would be disappointed with the Bristol Review of Books latest offering. I especially urge those who turn their nose up at the short story form – and I know there’s plenty of you out there – to reconsider, and to give this particular anthology a try. I think it may just change your mind.

Before I close these afterthoughts I just want to do one more thing – to pay tribute both to the Bristol Review of Books and the judging panel of the Bristol Short Story Prize. The short story form is sadly under appreciated in this country, and as a consequence it receives much less attention than it deserves. For a short story fan like me this is all hugely dispiriting, but thankfully, through the unfading efforts of Bristol Review of Books and all of those involved with the Bristol Short Story Prize, there’s a corner of the literary world that’s ablaze with love for the short story; where the form is exalted and celebrated and definitely not kept in the shade. This gives me a warm feeling, it makes me smile, and as such I will always be grateful to the Bristol Review of Books and the Bristol Short Story Prize for putting the most deserving of story forms on a pedestal. On behalf of all short story fans around the world, I thank you (I was going to say ‘salute’ but then I would have sounded to much like a gladiator )

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

Bristol Review of Books Ltd. | July 2010 | £10.00 | PAPERBACK | 180 PP | ISBN: 9780955955549

:: What others have said about the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3::

• “I would urge anyone who is planning on entering a competition this year to buy, beg, steal, or borrow a copy of this fantastic anthology. Not because it will put you off entering, but because this collection is likely to inspire you.” – A J Kirby, The Short Review.
• “There is some good stuff here, and the book is well worth seeking out.” – David Hebblethwaite, Follow the Thread
• “Overall, I’d agree with other reviews of this anthology. It’s full of some truly beautiful examples of the short story form…” - Tomas Furby, Ramblings of a Bibliophile

*****

OK, I know it’s taken me an absolute age between penning my forethoughts for The Secret Lives of People in Love (Beautiful Books) and offering up this, my final review, but truth be told I was worried about the Van Booy-shaped hole that would be left in my life when I finished it. A stupid thought to hold in one’s head I know, but such is my love for the short stories of Simon Van Booy, that I can’t bear to be without them (oh, have I inadvertently given away my final impressions on the collection already? Probably, but I’m sure it won’t come as any surprise to any regular RobAroundBooks reader what I may have thought). But of course all good things do come to an end, and having now finally turned the last page on this collection its time to collate my reviews of the individual stories, and pass on my final afterthoughts of the collection as a whole.

Kicking off these afterthoughts then is a rundown of my individual reviews for each of the stories in The Secret Lives of People in Love, along with links to those individual reviews. I’ve also included here my rating for each story, together with a brief quote from each mini review. My impressions on the collection as a whole continue below:

• Little Birds – ‘a short story that’s very hard to beat on an emotional kind of level’ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• The Reappearance of Strawberries – ‘such is the eloquence of Van Booy’s prose that one leaves this story feeling both mournful and satisfied at the same time’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• As Much Below as Up Above – ‘Once again Van Booy has shown himself to be the undisputed master when it comes to exploring the human reaction to love and loss’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Not the Same Shoes – ‘the poetry of Van Booy’s prose is as sublime and omnipresent as it always is, but for me the story itself is all too brief and in many much too vague to make much sense’ – Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
• Where They Hide Is a Mystery – ‘Again Mr. Van Booy has moved me greatly with another touching story that deals with the processes and consequences of loss’ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• The World Laughs in Flowers - ‘Again, a hugely powerful and soul-searching tale from Van Booy’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Some Bloom in Darkness – ‘The sheer beauty of Van Booy’s prose and the breathtaking imagery that his words throw up, is beyond description’ – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• Distant Ships – ‘A tale of loss that’s been told a thousand times. Thankfully however Van Booy seems to tell it in a more profound way to anyone else’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• No Greater Gift – ‘This may not be the most deep and philosophical tale that Simon Van Booy has ever written, but it stands out as one of the most adorable’ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• Snow Falls and Then Disappears – ‘what begins as a simple tale of ‘man separates from woman’ soon becomes something much more profound’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• The Shepherd on the Rock – ‘Quite remarkable, in so many ways’ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• Everything is a Beautiful Trick - ‘Again Van Booy paints a story so incredibly well that the sense of lose and longing is almost palpable’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• French Artist Killed in Sunday’s Earthquake – ‘Definitely one of the most pitiful and sombre stories that I’ve ever read, and I mean EVER!’ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• Apples – ‘I particularly enjoyed the cosmopolitan feel of this one. Aside from anything else Van Booy gives a nice little snapshot of the cultural melting pot that is Brooklyn’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Everyday Things – ‘I enjoyed this story but I like some of his others offerings slightly better’ – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Conception - ‘the story’s small size holds much power’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Save as Many as You Ruin – ‘Although I don’t believe this to be one of the most remarkable stories that Van Booy has penned to date, I believe it to be one of the most intimate, at least from the perspective of its author’ – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• The Still But Falling World – ‘This story is profound, it’s beautiful and it illustrates perfectly just how deft Simon Van Booy is, at turning an ordinary world into an extraordinarily caring one’ – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• The Mute Ventriloquist – ‘a slightly longer story than what I’m used to from Van Booy, but just like the rest of the stories in this collection it reads beautifully’ – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

A collection that gels with power and punch
So, I think it’s clear that there wasn’t a story in The Secret Lives of People in Love that I didn’t like, so it must be a given that I loved the collection as a whole? Well I obviously did, but a big question always looms when it comes to short story collections – did the stories gel well together, and do they compliment one another? I’ve got to say yes and yes they certainly did, because the overall theme of the collection is one of love and lose, and every story certainly contains a strong element of these themes.

Strength of emotion
It is however the strength at which Van Booy explores the themes in this collection that is its most glorious triumph. Under the pen of this hugely competent writer, the stories come with such power and punch that one is highly unlikely to ever forgot most of them. Some writers provide the power and punch using shock and vivid imagery, Van Booy however delivers his ‘blows’ using acute observation, beautifully articulate language, and a deft ability to express the human condition (at least in relation to love and/or loss). His prowess in storytelling is quite remarkable and it’s a real wonder to behold.

Best of the bunch
A note of my favourite will perhaps reinforce the notion that a reader is highly unlikely to forget ever reading the majority of the stories in this collection. You may notice that I’ve only rated two in the collection a perfect five, but there are a good percentage of them which are only half a mark from the perfect score. And although I will remember all of the stories in this collection it is those which I have given the highest ratings to which affected me the most, emotionally. Take French Artist Killed in Sunday’s Earthquake. It’s a short tale, but I’m certain that you’ll never read anything as powerful, regardless of length . It’s about a woman trapped in the rubble of a collapsed building, following an earthquake. She’s suddenly and unexpectedly living out her final moments, and as I’m sure you can imagine this is one that really hits you in the heart. Never have I read any story as sorrowful as this.

Then there’s Some Bloom in Darkness, which earned the elusive ‘perfect score’. And it did so not only because of the brilliance of its imagery, but because of the profound emotion that is harboured within the story’s principle character, Saboné. Unforgettable!

Another favourite – Where They Hide Is a Mystery affected me not only because of its heartrending storyline but because of the uplifting concept that Van Booy comes up, as to what really happens to people when they die.

The other story I gave a perfect score too – The Still But Falling World, awarded not only because of its perfectly engaging storyline but also because it’s simply faultless.

A cosmopolitan selection
Moving on and as I said in my forethoughts Van Booy is well travelled, and you can tell as much from the stories to be found in The Secret Lives of People in Love. The collection takes us to multi-cultural streets of Brooklyn (Apples, No Greater Gift, As Much Below as Up Above) to Paris (Little Birds, Some Bloom in Darkness), from quaint Italian villages (The Still But Falling World) to the rain-soaked hills of Wales (Distant Ships), and other places in between. It’s true to say that the majority of stories are set, or partially set in New York, but the sense of the cosmopolitan – a tribute to Van Booy’s globetrotting ways – is clearly evident.

A perfect score
And so I come to the moment then, when I have to award a final score to The Secret Lives of People in Love. It’s clear from my individual story reviews that this score is going to be high, but perhaps not as high as a perfect five. Well, in a move that is incredibly rare for me (because I don’t usually think that anything is ever perfect), I am awarding a perfect five. And I do so because this collection has touched me more than any other short story collection ever has. Van Booy’s stories have taken my emotions to places I didn’t know existed, and they’ve given me the feeling of perfect bliss; the sense that reading is the most glorious occupation that a human being can be engaged in. There aren’t too many writers who have evoked that feeling in me thus far (John Steinbeck is probably the only other writer who has done it to such depth), but Simon Van Booy most certainly has. It’s been difficult to put that into words (Van Booy would manage it no problem ), but I hope I’ve given you the encouragement to seek out and read this book, because I think it needs to be read by everyone. You owe it to your heart and to your soul to do so.

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

UK

Beautiful Books | June 2010 | £7.99 | PAPERBACK | 288 PP | ISBN: 9781905636945

US

Harper Perennial | February 2010 | $13.99 | PAPERBACK | 208 PP | ISBN: 9780061766121

:: What others have said about The Secret Lives of People in Love::

• “Those who love the art of the short story will want to add this book to their reading list. Van Booy does not disappoint.” – Wendy, Caribousmum.
• “Exquisite writing that owns a permanent home on the good shelves.” – Bookfool, Bookfoolery and Babble
• “I know I’m waxing poetic about this collection, but it is a dynamite and vibrant piece of writing.” - Jason Rice, Three Guys One Book
• “if you are looking for a soulful collection of stories so realistic and relatable, yet so distant and melancholy that you gasp every few pages, then this is your book” – The Girl From the Ghetto

*****

Before you read my review on The Birth Machine by Elizabeth Baines (Salt Publishing), I invite you to visit my forethoughts on the book. Here you will be able to read a full preview on the book, together with a few preliminary thoughts on it. For those who don’t have the time or the inclination, here’s a brief rundown on the plot:

Zelda, the wife of medical researcher Dr. Roland Harris, is brought into hospital to begin the induction process for the birth of her first baby. As Zelda’s labour progresses her state of mind changes, and she stresses about her current situation she goes in and out of dream-like phases, where her mind casts back to her childhood, and one particularly traumatic and indelible memory.

Somewhat weighed down in technical jargon
So that’s a brief rundown on what The Birth Machine is about (trust me it’s a short work of fiction so you don’t need to know much more than that), but what did I really think of it? Well I’ve got to to say that I enjoyed this novel very much, even though it’s a little heavy going at times. And it’s heavy going for a couple of reasons. Firstly, there’s a fair amount of medical jargon and run down on procedure. Of course, knowing from the outset that this is a book about a woman going through the various stages of induced labour, I was expecting all of the medical lingo (in fact if you’d read my forethoughts post then you’d know a hospital phobia had me dreading it ), but maybe not quite to the technical depth I experienced. While this is a credit to the author’s knowledge on the subject (or more probably her research skills), there were paragraphs of the novel (thankfully not too many), that read more like a medical textbook than a work of prose, and it took a bit of effort sticking with it. This is not a criticism – the overly technical presence both informed and authenticated the story – but it just took a little more focus keeping with the text at times.

Secondly, as the story develops and Zelda gets more and more hallucinatory and confused (a side effect of both the drugs and the prolonged pain), so the story gets more abstract, ambiguous and mixed up. This change in prose and the mixing up of story threads is, of course, in reaction to the drastic change in character, but it does increase the difficulty in being able follow and comprehend the story. I should quickly add however that Baines’ treatment of the changing character of Zelda is triumphant, so the extra effort needed is worth it. I read somewhere that Baines likes to ‘consciously explore and experiment with style and tone’, and this is clearly evident in the way that the novel evolves.

Well crafted characters, but too little McGuirk
On briefly then to a quick mention of the characters in The Birth Machine and I’ve got to say that I thoroughly enjoyed them all. They are all fairly well crafted and, for the most part, interesting. Zelda not surprisingly is the most developed of all, and she is also, for me, almost the most intriguing. Zelda is very credible character and one really feels empathy both for the situation she is in, and the shocking secret she carries with her (no spoilers here, folks ). Her husband Roland, who is something of an overly nervous and somewhat weak research doctor, is another interesting fellow, but I felt that he did not feature in the story quite as much as I perhaps hoped that he would have.

I said that Zelda was almost the most intriguing character in The Birth Machine for me, but there is one other key character who intrigued me more. That character is the obstetrics professor Professor McGuirk, who opens the novel having freshly flown in to Boston from England to giving a lecture, before rushing to the airport straight after, to catch a plane back home in time for supper. I was instantly attracted to McGuirk, both for his scholarly intelligence and his mild eccentricity. This is one character that I felt had a lot more to give, but he didn’t really get all that much of a chance to give it (ironically most of the medical jargon that I ‘complained’ about before comes from the mouth of McGuirk ). Saying that, this story is of course all about Zelda, and her journey through labour and childbirth, so to take the focus away from her and to give it to another character would be detrimental (especially in such a short novel), so this is no criticism whatsoever on the author or her story, I’m just passing comment on a personal preference for characters.

Before closing this review I should mention that although Baines has turned out a rather special and entertaining little story, she had something of an ulterior motive. She states in her author notes that she wanted to tell a story which explores the arrogance of contemporary medical thinking; to poke at the fact that certain personal health matters are overlooked in the name of scientific advancement. She said that she choose to set her novel in the world of obstetrics because ‘in the moments of birth the line between burgeoning life and proximate death is at its fuzziest and, in the contemporary high-tech set-up, so-called scientific objectivity and personal subjectivity [are] most strikingly in conflict’. So her novel has something of a political aspect to it, but thankfully she’s somewhat subtle in her execution, and such a motive can really only be spotted when one reads between the lines.

In summing up then I’m happy to state that my first dip into the literary world of Elizabeth Baines has been a wholly positive one. The Birth Machine is a very accomplished short novel, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I would say however that for the most part this novel is perhaps more suited to the female readership. I believe that a woman (especially one who’s gone through childbirth), will be able to relate to the subject matter a lot better than any man could, and for that reason alone I think it’s more for readers of the fairer sex.

Only one question remains I suppose. Did I faint or throw up while reading The Birth Machine as I said I might in my forethoughts? Thankfully I didn’t although I got a little giddy around the subject of ‘breaking waters’. Actually, The Birth Machine turned out to be not that graphic, something for which I’m eternally grateful to Elizabeth Baines for .

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

:: What others have said about The Birth Machine::

• “Salt’s done the public a service in bringing this one back. It’s a rock-hard satire and a very, very, very good read” – Valerie O’Riordan for Bookmunch.
• “I enjoyed this book very much. It’s the best thing I’ve read by her…and I’m happy to recommend it, to men (and not simply fathers) as well as women (and not simply feminists).” - Jim Murdoch, The Truth About Lies.

Salt Publishing | November 2010 | £8.99 | PAPERBACK | 160 PP | ISBN: 9781907773020

*****

“Men have lost all sense of honour. Power has become their faith instead of faith being their power”

It’s only been a day or so since I posted my forethoughts on this novel, but I return already to let you know what I thought of it. To avoid repeating myself in terms of the plot for this novel and the background of the author, I invite you to visit that forethoughts post if you want further information on these things. Onwards then to my afterthoughts for Atiq Rahimi’s Earth and Ashes:

From the outset I have to say that there is very little in Earth and Ashes that is going to raise the spirits. It’s a very bleak novel that comes without warmth or comfort, yet I still recommend that you to read it. And I do so because I think Earth and Ashes stands as a great testament to how good a storyteller, Atiq Rahimi is. The novel may only amount to less than 70 pages in total (which essentially makes it a long short story I suppose), but Rahimi packs an awful lot into a tiny space, and he does so with much elegance and grace.

In the first instance Rahimi is wonderfully lyrical in the use of his prose in Earth and Ashes, and he shows a real interest in putting that skill to great effect in exploring the human condition, especially in relation to loss. I won’t deny that Rahimi is also using Earth and Ashes to send out a huge political message – not surprising given that the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan had such a huge impact on the writer during his teenage years – but he transmits this message in a more subtle way, choosing to keep the main focus of the novel on the main character Dastaguir, and the way in which that character is trying to come to terms with devastation and loss.

Because Earth and Ashes is so short in length it’s difficult for me to say too much about Dastaguir’s situation without giving away the story. But I will say that his situation is hopeless (so hopeless that he even renounces his faith at one point), and it’s made all the worse due to the illusions and flashbacks which keep coming to the front of his mind all the time. As such one instantly feels sorry for the main character, but Rahimi instills the sense of hopelessness in the reader to an even greater depth, by presenting this entire novel in second-person perspective i.e. just as in portions of Italo Calvino’s If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller, where the narrative uses the term ‘you’ as though the reader were in the role of the character. It may take a page or two to get used to how the story is being told, but when one does one seems to be instilled with a greater empathy for the main character and the dreadful situation that he finds himself in. It’s all very cleverly done.

I said at the start of these afterthoughts that Rahimi packs an awful lot into such a short novel. And one of the things he makes a point of doing in Earth and Ashes (and thank heavens he does because it’s a real triumph and a treat), is mixing in the contemporary with the traditional; with the traditional coming from the great Persian epic, Shahnama (Book of Kings). Rahimi makes a number of references to the Shahnama throughout – or rather to the primary events that occur in that epic – but it is at one point in the novel in particular – a point where a character is summing up how things have changed to the detriment of the Afghani people – that the references to the Shahnama become the most pertinent. And what a privilege it is to witness that moment – the moment when a writer pulls something out of from his heritage and applies it so that it becomes wholly relevant to his own time. It’s almost worth buying this book for this moment alone.

I just want to note a couple of other things I go. Firstly, that I consider Erdag Goknar’s translation of this work to be exemplary, and totally sympathetic of Rahimi’s wonderfully poetic prose. Secondly, I want to give praise for the quality of this US edition of Earth and Ashes. At first I thought $13.95 was a bit steep for a book so slim, but after working with the book over the past day or two I’m delighted at how well this edition has been put together. The quality and elegance if binding and design match up perfectly to the quality and elegance of the story.

And so I will leave these afterthoughts then, hoping that I have given you enough motivation to go and pick up this book. You already know that you’re not going to walk away from this one with a smile on your face and a skip in your step, but I hope that you will walk away having had your heart and soul touched by a very competent writer, and one who still holds a link to the storytellers of the great Persian literary past.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Other Press | August 2010 | $13.95 | HARDBACK | 96 PP | ISBN: 9781590513453

[UK] – Vintage | October 2003 | £5.99 | PAPERBACK | 64 PP | ISBN: 0099442124

:: What others have said about Earth and Ashes::

• “a powerful, understated work.” - M.A.Orthofer, The Complete Review.
• “Rahimi is the kind of writer who should be read by everybody.” – Marie Cloutier, The Boston Bibliophile.
• “Earth And Ashes is a great little tale” – Stewart McAbney, Booklit blog.

*****

Welcome dear reader to my final afterthoughts for Kapitoil. But before I go on and tell you what I thought about this novel, I should tell you something about it. I do cover this in more depth in my forethoughts post for Kapitoil so I invite you to pop along and read that, but for those of you in a rush who just need a brief summary:

Kapitoil follows the exploits of Qatari financial wizard and software programmer, Karim Issar as he relocates to New York to assist his employer Schaub Equities, in combating against the Y2K bug which is due to hit in three months. It is not long before Karim develops a software application that looks to be of real value to the company. It’s a piece of software that Karim christens ‘Kapitoil’, and it’s able to make solid revenue by predicting the future price of oil. It’s not long before the ‘higher ups’ begin to get interested in Karim’s creation.

Now, from the outset I want to allay any fears that Kapitoil is nothing more than a dull ‘yawnathon’ based around American corporations and business jargon. It’s nothing of the sort! Although there are episodes when the narrative does turn to more boring aspects such as business talk, software engineering, number crunching and stock market predictions etc. (well the main character Karim Issar is a geeky computer whizz, after all), most of this novel is about one man trying to make sense of the oddities of New York life, while also trying to make himself fit in. It’s more of an exploration of how someone gets to grips with an alien environment, and Teddy Wayne plays out this exploration incredibly well, using a character who is every bit as memorable as any you are likely to find, and with a storyline that exalts that character to the max.

When I penned my forethoughts for Kapitoil, one of my biggest wishes – aside from hoping that this novel didn’t turn out to be a boring tale of American corporations and Wall Street – was that the main character would turn out to be as quirky a character as Odell Deefus in Torsten Krol’s Callisto, or dare I dream given this novel’s New York flavour, as wholly memorable as J. D. Salinger’s, Holden Caulfield. Well, I’m happy to say that my wishes (and dreams) have been fulfilled because Kapitoil turned out to be everything that I had hoped it would be, and more.

And the main reason Kapitoil turns out so well, is of course because the main character lives up to my expectations. Karim Issar is without a doubt the absolute triumph of this novel, and I defy anyone not to become instantly attracted to him. And what makes the main character so attractive? Quite simply he’s one of the most lovable, charming and charismatic characters out there in fiction world, but perhaps not in the way that most people would think.

In the first place it’s Karim’s distinctive ‘voice’ and use of vocabulary that makes him so endearing. And as Kapitoil is presented in the form of a personal journal – Karim’s own personal journal – the reader is continually exposed to the main character’s unique vocabulary; a vocabulary that another character in the novel refers to as, Karim-esque. How best to describe Karim-esque? Well the bulk of Karim’s understanding of the English language comes from his exposure to computers and ‘business speak’ in his native Qatar. And so every time that Karim communicates there’s a distinct element of formality and ‘geek jargon’ to his words, and it’s accompanied by a strong will to always remain grammatically correct. An example:

We find similar concepts humorous, although she produces jokes at a greater and more successful rate. Business manuals explain how valuable it is to have a sense of humor, so I am studying how others produce jokes, such as making a statement that is clearly the reverse of what you truly mean and using a tone of voice that indicates the reversal. But it is not a natural response for me, minus sometimes with Zahira, and I am unskilled at intentionally adjusting my voice.

Going back briefly to the fact that Kapitoil is presented to the reader in the form of a journal, I’d like to say that I’m glad that Wayne choose to use this unusual format, because it really works. Not only does it keep the entire novel Karim-esque (very important), but it also allows for the novel to be personalised in favour of the main character even further. At the end of each journal entry (and typically relating to it), Karim records words/phrases that he’s learned along the way (mainly slang word/phrases), and he appends these entries with his own definition. It’s all very entertaining and it adds even more in shaping Karim into the wholly, well-rounded character that he is. Here’s an example entry from Karim’s lexicon:

you was robbed = usage of incorrect second-person to indicate an unsound transaction
shit-shower-shave = consecutive actions a man performs before a nightclub

Because of the very analytical way in which his mind works, Karim’s way of figuring things out also brings a certain charm to his character. Karim approaches every situation in a thoughtful and logical way – kind of like a Qatari version of Mr. Spock – and he often comes up with sensible and remarkable results. In fact in many ways Karim’s logic acts as kind of a ‘balancer’ for his naivety, and this becomes especially important to the character as the story unfolds. I can’t really say any more than that without spoiling the story, but I will say that fans of Star Trek probably won’t be disappointed .

Finally, warmth for Karim comes from the way in which he deals with intimacy and relationships. In the first instance it’s the close relationship that he shares with his family, and in particular his sister, Zahari, that makes the heart glow. It’s clear how much love Karim has for his sister from the way that he speaks to her (or from the way that he speaks about her when he’s not speaking to her), and it is this love for his sister that becomes something of a driving force for the character.

The love shown between Karim and Zahari is unconditional and uncomplicated – as any bond between siblings should be – but it provides a nice juxtaposition for an intimate bond that begins to form between Karim and a work colleague, because this relationship is anything but uncomplicated. And it is the way in which Karim deals with this relationship, and the doubts and uncertainty that surround it (the doubts mainly rising from Karim’s religious beliefs), that provide the most heartwarming episodes in Kapitoil, and make the novel so much more than a simple boardroom drama.

Of course all of this talk about Karim Issar makes it look like there’s nothing of substance to Kapitoil, other than its main character. That’s not true. Aside from the novel introducing us to some other great characters (look out for Barron Wright, Dan and Jefferson, Rebecca and the indomitable Mr Schrub) Kapitoil also gives us something of a satisfactory (although nowhere near exhaustive) tour around the streets and parks of New York City (a real bonus for anyone with an obsession for anything Big Apple i.e. me ).

The reader is also given something of a lesson in the business ethics of large American corporations – something else I said in my forethoughts that I hoped would be touched upon in Kapitoil. I’m happy to see though that this aspect is explored without the novel being bogging down by it.

So all in all then a really enjoyable novel that gives more reading satisfaction than one may first think. Thanks to Kapitoil I now have a new character to add to my list of favourites, and a new author to keep a close future eye on. I suggest that you’ll think the same as me after you’ve read Kapitoil.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

UK

Duckworth Publishers | July 2010 | £8.99 | PAPERBACK | 304 PP | ISBN: 9780715638941

US

Harper Perennial | April 2010 | $13.99 | PAPERBACK | 320 PP | ISBN: 9780061873218

:: What others have said about Kapitoil::

• “The beauty of Kapitoil is that it tackles broad and serious themes with humor and an eye for detail.” - Dave Sowders, Houston Chronicle.
• “[Teddy Wayne] has written a timely, self-assured book that offers its reader many rewards.” – Theodore Wheeler, The Millions.
• “Kapitoil cuts through our cultural moment as sharply as Evelyn Waugh’s “Scoop’’ or “A Handful of Dust’’ did for their time” – Anis Shivani, The Boston Globe.

*****

A few years ago Vienna-born Stefan Zweig was largely unknown (the fact that he tragically took his own life in 1942 in Brazil alongside his wife, in despair at the rise of Nazi power, probably had a lot to do with this). But thanks to the industrious efforts of independent publishers such as Pushkin Press, and the applaudable first-class translating skills of intelligent minds such as Anthea Bell, Zweig has emerged from obscurity and has started to build up quite a reputation.

Before reading Burning Secret I’d heard a few people singing the praises of this Austrian author but I didn’t quite know why. But now that I’ve had the pleasure of reading this novel I can see clearly why Stefan Zweig is held up with such high esteem. Quite simply Zweig is an extraordinary writer and Burning Secret provides an a perfect example of why that might be.
Weighing in at a little over 100 pages Burning Secret isn’t a long book, yet it still gave me one of the most incredible reading experiences that I’ve ever had. The story follows ‘The Baron’ – sexual predator extraordinaire — who is having no luck in seeking out female ‘prey’ during a stay at a particularly quiet Austrian resort, during its off-season. The Baron’s ‘gloomy’ outlook changes however on the arrival of a tall, voluptuous Jewish woman, who has brought her twelve-year-old son, Edgar to the resort, for rest and recuperation following an extended illness. It’s not long before the cold and calculating Baron decides that the best way to get to this woman — a woman who sits ‘just before the age of over-maturity’ — is to befriend the son so that he can be utilised as a ‘go-between’. So kicking proceedings off with a short and fake-friendly conversation with the young boy, the wheels of the Baron’s abhorrent scheme are set in motion:

The Baron easily won his [the boy’s] confidence. Just half-an-hour, and he had that hot and restless heart in his hands. It is so extraordinarily easy to deceive children, unsuspecting creatures whose affections are so seldom sought…[...]…He had found his go-between…[...]…He was certain that the talkative boy wouldn’t rest until he had brought his friend and his mother together. He didn’t have to lift a finger to decrease the distance between himself and the fair unknown, he could dream happily now as he looked at the landscape, for he knew that a pair of hot, childish hands was building him a bridge to her heart.

If he is chilling in the offhanded nature in which he objectifies women, then the Baron is positively ‘sub zero’ in the way in which he cruelly exploits young Edgar in order to meet his own depraved needs. It’s heartbreaking enough to bear witness to such a young and innocent boy being picked up and toyed around with as if he were a mouse to a cat (before he’s unceremoniously discarded by the wayside with his innocence stripped away), but it’s made all the more powerful because of Zweig’s profound ability to tell stories. So masterful is Zweig in his penning of Burning Secret that I swear I physically heard the heartstrings of young Edgar twang and break at one point during the story, which was an astonishing experience to say the least.

With profoundness in storytelling there often also comes complexity. But I’m happy to say that at no time did I find Burning Secret to be a difficult book to get one’s head around. Quite the opposite in fact because Zweig is very clear and straightforward in his writing, and he’s completely unpretentious with it. At the same time however, he is mind-blowingly astute in his observations, and deftly in his ability to relay those observations across to the reader in an uncomplicated, yet wholly intense way. Many times while reading Burning Secret I found myself gasping at Zweig’s perceptive capacity, but perhaps the biggest exclamation came forth from me early on in the novel, when Zweig is describing a particular transmutative period during a woman’s life:

It was very likely that he would not pursue this woman in vain. She was at that crucial age when a woman begins to regret having stayed faithful to a husband she never really loved, when the glowing sunset colours of her beauty offer her one last, urgent choice between maternal and feminine love. At such a moment a life that seemed to have chosen its course long ago is questioned once again, for the last time the magic compass needle of the will hovers between final resignation and the hope of erotic experience. Then a woman is confronted with a dangerous decision: does she live her own life or live for her children? And the Baron, who had such a keen eye for these things, thought he saw in her just that dangerous hesitation between the fire of life and self-sacrifice.

That’s an incredible paragraph and quite how a 32-year-old man can tune in so deeply into the psyche of the middle-aged woman is beyond me. But tune in Zweig most certainly does, and he continues to demonstrate this profound depth of understanding and insight throughout the novel, and that goes right to the very last paragraph in fact. Quite remarkable!

Through fear of going into spoiler territory (because as I said it is a short work of fiction) that’s all I’m going to say about Burning Secret for now. But I will say that through reading this novel I’ve found Zweig to be achingly more-ish, and as a consequence I’ve already added a number of his other titles to my reading pile – Fear, Amok and Other Stories, The Post-Office Girl, The World of Yesterday to name a few. So if that doesn’t stand as a testament to just how incredible a novel Burning Secret is, then I don’t know what would.

Well, there is one more thing that might convince you just that little bit more. I said at the beginning of this review that Burning Secret has given me one of the most incredible reading experiences I’ve ever had. And I’m willing to put money on the table right here and now, in support of the suggestion that this novel will give you one of your most remarkable reading experiences too. That’s how confident I am that you’re going to like it.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

Pushkin Press | 2008 | £10.00 | PAPERBACK | 100 PP | ISBN: 9781901285857

:: What others have said about Burning Secret::

• “Extraordinarily powerful.” - Nicholas Lezard, The Guardian.
• “This is not a major work of Zweig, but is still another example of his deep insights into the predicaments people can get into and the psychological stresses and pains that result.” – Tom Cunliffe, A Common Reader.
• “For a brilliant delineation of the mind of a child on the brink of adulthood, look no further.” – Lynne Hatwell, Dovegreyreader.

*****

Well dear reader I’m done and dusted with Knut Hamsun’s Mysteries and it’s time to offer up a few afterthoughts. However I’ve got to be honest with you from the outset and tell you that reviewing this one isn’t going to be easy, because this was one of the oddest novels I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. I use the word ‘pleasure’ purposely because as odd as Mysteries is it’s also an absolute delight to read, even though it’s fundamentally a difficult novel to follow, which makes it all sound a bit paradoxical doesn’t it?

We’ll explore the paradox of ‘delightful to read, but difficult to follow’ a little later on in these afterthoughts, but for now I want to address the ‘odd’ aspect, and explain why I consider Mysteries to be one of the strangest novels I’ve ever read. On a basic level the storyline for Mysteries isn’t that odd at all. In fact it’s reasonably straightforward. A stranger (Johan Nagel) arrives in a small Norwegian coastal town and camps up in the town’s hotel. He then goes randomly wandering around the town and its immediate locale, befriending a number of townspeople and engaging in random acts of kindness (these acts usually involves the offering of monies). All very basic, all very straightforward except for one thing, the crucial word, ‘random’.

Odd relationships
That’s right fellow readers, as kind and as warming as Nagel seems to be towards most other people (in the early stages of the novel at least) his actions and behaviour are often random, and most definitely odd. And to make things more confusing the reader is often never given any inkling – or at least not immediately – as to why Nagel may be behaving in a certain way. Example? Well without giving too much away Nagel forms a remarkable relationship with an equally remarkable fellow known as The Midget (definitely the best character in the book, after Nagel). As one might expect with a name like this The Midget is picked upon by a number of people, and Nagel is conscious of the bullying. He comes to The Midget’s aid and not only offers protection, money and clothes but also friendship. It is no mystery as to why Nagel would help someone so much in need so there’s nothing odd to be found in that. Instead the strangeness comes from Nagel’s ever-changing attitude towards The Midget. Sometimes he blows hot towards him, other times cold, and it all appears to be random, and for no apparent reason. And it is the oddity in relationship that really brings along the aspect of bizarre, and it’s not just the relationship between these two persons.

I could go on and provide further examples of the odd behaviour that Nagel shows towards other people (especially women), but I would be revealing too much of the novel and turning these afterthoughts into something resembling the same length as the novel. Suffice it to say that it is the random actions of Nagel, and his often changing mood towards others, which bestows upon Mysteries the greatest sense of oddity.

Really an exploration of existentialism?
But with the oddity must come a reason. Hamsun surely isn’t being outlandish just for the sake of it, is he? Well, I’m sure he isn’t because Hamsun is a much more clever writer than that. In fact in his characters the strongest feeling I get is one of ‘what’s the point’. What’s the point in living? What’s the point in loving? What’s the point in helping others? All very philosophical, and all very existentialist in nature. I’m not surprised by this really because you may remember in my forethoughts for Mysteries that I offered the notion that the novel may be a work of existentialism. Well after reading Mysteries that’s the notion that I most definitely come away with, and this may well go a lot of the way to explaining why this novel appears so odd. Through his characters Hamsun seems to be more concerned with exploring the philosophy of existence than telling a straightforward story, and it is this philosophical probing which turns a narrative prose into something more exploratory; something metaphysical; something that could definitely be labeled as ‘odd’.

A compelling read!
Of course now I’ve said all that I’ve probably put you off reading Mysteries for life. But please I really don’t want to do that, so let me turn to the reason why I consider Mysteries to be such a compelling read. Again it’s probably all down to the main character, Nagel, and his random and weird behaviour. Nobody could say that Nagel is orthodox in his methods; and he certainly isn’t predictable. And it’s this unpredictability i.e. wondering what Nagel is going to do next, that really keeps the pages turning. Sure, the reader is often lost in a whirlwind of monologic stream-of-consciousness warbling – whose content can range from anything from trippy dreams to political opinion – but there is a real anticipation that builds in waiting to discover exactly where Hamsun is taking the reader in chapter or scene, and it is this anticipation, this compelling urge to keep turning the pages, that really brings delight, and makes me proclaim Mysteries to be such a compelling read.

Now, I’m sure that I’ve not even scratched the surface with regards to what the real meaning of Mysteries may or may not be, or indeed what the true purpose of it really is. I’m nowhere near clever enough to even begin ruminating on such a thing. However, one thing I do know for sure is that Mysteries certainly isn’t a straightforward, run-of-the-mill read. Therefore it’s definitely not a novel I would recommend for everyone. Mysteries requires a heck of a lot of thinking and a ton of perseverance to get through, and if the reader is not prepared to put that effort in then he/she will abandon it quickly.

A novel that can change you
Persevere with Mysteries however, and I think the reader will be rewarded. This is one of these rare novels where one emerges from the other side of, feeling a little bit different. I can’t even begin to explain how Mysteries has changed me, but in some small way I feel that it has. I may be going around in exactly the same way that I was before – thinking the same thoughts that I always have – but there’s a minuscule feeling in me, that a tiny, tiny part of me has changed; that the essence of Hamsun’s Nagel has subconsciously and in a way unbeknownst to me somehow entered my being, making me that tiny bit more philosophical. All very strange indeed and definitely the biggest mystery of them all.

A ‘thumbs up’ to the translator
Before I close I should probably make a comment on translation. Up to this point I’ve only read Hamsun as translated into English by Sverre Lyngstad and I found his translation to be flawless; invisible, as though the original were created in the English language. In this edition of Mysteries, as published by Souvenir Press, the translation is Gerry Bothmar, a translator I’ve never read before. Thankfully I found Bothmar to be equally as readable and I’m happy to report that I felt the same sense of ‘invisibility’ in reading this translated work, that I felt when reading the translations of Lyngstad. So consider that a big thumbs up on translation too.

In summing up then, if you have the time and perseverance for it then I highly recommend that you give Mysteries a go. If however you prefer your novels to be quick and straightforward, then Mysteries definitely isn’t the novel for you.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

Souvenir Press | 2009 | £9.99 | PAPERBACK | 340 PP | ISBN: 9780285647299

Note: This novel is being read as part of Totally Knut; an ongoing reading project in which I aim to digest the entire English-translated bibliography of Norwegian writer, Knut Hamsun.

Produced by indy publishing house Present Joys, Extra Ordinary: Words by Supermundane (real name Rob Lowe), is a publication that certainly rings true to its name. Contained within a 20 page booklet are 55 ‘micro dramas’, which are probably best described as extremely short pieces of flash fiction, much in the same vein as that famous six-word story from Hemingway – For sale: baby shoes, never worn. While none of the stories contained within Extra Ordinary are as short as Hemingway’s six-word masterpiece (one did come close at seven words ), all are particularly fleeting, with none of the stories extending past a single, short paragraph.

So the question of course, is whether this collection of ‘micro dramas’ is as ‘supermundane’ as Lowe’s nom de plume, or if we can drop the ‘mundane’ altogether and just go with the word ‘super’? Well, having read through all 55 entries on what was a dreary Sunday afternoon, I’m happy to say that none of the ‘stories’ could be labeled mundane. Not only did Lowe’s imaginative writings lift my mood on a dull day, but most of the writings also managed to spark up my own imagination, as I tried to expand on the flickers of fiction which were presented to me. Of course I wouldn’t say that all of Lowe’s micro creations hit the mark with me, but a large percentage of them certainly did, and I consider that a winner. My absolute favourite? Well, that would be this one:

The trees spoke in a language of the breeze he didn’t understand. He thanked God for this fact as he kicked his chainsaw into life.

What a superb nugget of fiction that is (it certainly plays havoc with my tree-hugging sensitivities ), and the ‘story’ is pretty indicative of the general flavour of these ‘micro dramas’ (although many are more open-ended at their conclusion).

So what about downsides? Well, if anyone is looking for an exquisitely bound volume then this isn’t it. As mentioned in the opening paragraph Extra Ordinary is a booklet rather than a fully-fledged book (the product page illustrates this better), but coming in at only 20 pages with a price point of £3.50 (includes free shipping), who in all honesty would expect anything more substantial? Additionally, those looking for fancy graphics or commissioned artwork will also be disappointed. Extra Ordinary is 100% typography-based (as are all of Present Joys’ products), which is no bad thing of course, especially when it suggests that the publisher isn’t trying to put a fancy wrapping on things, and that they are, instead, letting the words speak for themselves.

All in all then, a commendable little publication, that’s perfect for the pocket – both in terms of price and in portability. I look forward to further editions.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

Present Joys | £3.50 | PAPERBACK | 20 PP | ISBN: 9780956514202