And so fellow reader we hit June, beautiful June. It’s the beginning of a new month and to some small degree the door has started opening for summer. We’re not quite there yet of course, but Tuesday’s always feel like a summer’s day to me because I get to bask in the glory of Anton Chekhov. Today was another glorious day of Chekhovbathing as I set myself on a reading journey through two wonderful short stories. The first story I read was A Pink Stocking (official afterthoughts HERE) which is a delightful contemplation on the role of women in the women in the home, and what worth they get/need from a solid education. The second story A Misfortune (official afterthoughts HERE) is very female-centric too, but this time the story focuses more on the psychological, and one woman’s inability to reach a definitive decision on her relationships.

This second story is quite remarkable, and although Chekhov can often be seen playing around with the psychological tussles of his characters, this is the first time I’ve witnessed him doing it to such depth. As I read these Chekhov tales in chronological order (more or less) I’m wondering if I’m seeing the dawning of a new style of writing from Chekhov, or at least a deepening of one one aspect of them. Time can only tell of course, but for now I sense that I’ve hit some kind of ‘mile marker’ with Chekhov and the development of his writing.

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It was Day #6 in my Flash Clash Challenge – the day that Nik Perring’s Not So Perfect debut flash collection is also officially published – and so breakfast was taken up, as it has been for a ew days now, with a spot of flash fiction reading. You can see how the reading went by popping over to the Day #6 summary. All I’ll say about it here, is WOW to Etgar Keret and his story Breaking the Pig.

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Given that the latest contribution that I was reading from Arab anthology Beirut39 (Bloomsbury) – a novel extract entitled The Last Hanging Poem – was penned by an Omani doctor (Hussein al Abri), I was expecting big things of it. And thankfully my expectations were met. The extract, which reads as a complete work in its own right, follows Abdallah bin Muhammad as he becomes more and more obsessed with a mystery man who has been symbolically placing gallows ropes around the city. While I’m not certain exactly what profession Abdallah holds (there’s mention of editors and the man works in a ministry building, so some kind of state journalist perhaps?), I am certain that this ‘case’ consumes him more and more as the story progresses. Thankfully, given that this is an extract, a conclusion is reached and it’s a powerful and memorable one. All in all then a wonderful contribution which shows Hussein al Abri to be rather deft practitioner of his writing craft. All of that and a doctor too? I’m impressed! Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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And so I come to Loser, one of the most expectant stories for me in Gaiman & Sarrantonio’s Stories anthology, because it is one penned by Chuck Palahniuk, that extraordinary writer who has an incredible ability to be powerful, shocking and completely original. I’m pleased to say – for inclusion in this anthology – that Palahniuk has chosen not to be overly shocking, but he is certainly 100% original. You know that TV game show The Price is Right? The one where people are called down from the audience and asked to guess the price of something? Well, have you ever wandered what the experience would be like for someone in the middle of an acid trip? This story shows you.

That’s right folks, it’s ‘Rush Week’ and as tradition dictates the Zeta Delts have to jump aboard a chartered school bus, and head to the taping of a gameshow. This time around it’s The Price is Right and one of the Zeta Delts has been summoned from the audience to take part. The only problem is, all of the party have downed an acid tab, cutely fashioned into a Hello Kitty stamp.

That’s enough about plot how does the story measure up? Well it’s kind of trippy and kind of weird, but it’s ultimately satisfying. I won’t lie and say that this is the best Palahniuk creation I’ve ever read, but it’s certainly well up to par for inclusion in this anthology. It’s one of these ‘I have no idea where this is taking me’ kind of stories, which is not only synonymous with the way that Palahniuk writes, but it also fits in perfectly with the overall aims of the anthology overall. Job done Mr. Palahniuk? I should say so! Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

::Wednesday’s reading plans::
Well folks it’s my daughter’s 16th birthday on Thursday (God help us all ) and so I need to free up as much time as possible over the next next couple of days in order to make sure that the day turns out to be a special one for her. So I’m not going to schedule any set reading over the next couple of days. If I get a chance to dip into anything then all well and good, but I’m not going to beat myself up over it if I don’t.

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

Well folks it’s been a few days since I updated my reading journal I know. The thing is midweek last week, I just felt that low, depressing what’s the point mood coming on and I had to nip it in the bud and take a bit of a break away from reading. And so I did. I guess when you get so immersed and so full on with your reading it tends to catch up with you every now and again, and that’s exactly what happened last week.

A new week however brings new opportunity, and with my batteries somewhat topped up it’s back to the breech once more. And the Hay Festival having kicked off on Saturday, and only two weeks left until Gaiman and Sarrantonio’s much talked about short story anthology comes out, it’s full steam ahead on my continuing journey through Beirut39 and Stories.

You know, I’m starting to get those niggling doubts again that I’m detracting people because I serve up too much on a plate for you guys, with my Reading Journal being the primary culprit. Here’s me having spoken about these two anthologies almost daily for nigh on two weeks now, and I can see how that may be a little annoying for some folk. However, the last thing I want to do is annoy people. But the fact is I like to show how completely immersed I am in my reading, in the hope that some of my insatiable passion for books and reading wears off on other people. I also want to show people that I’m completely 100% above board and when I review a book I’ve read, there’s no question of my integrity.

The fact of the matter is my Reading Journal really stands as a kind of supplementary ‘side show’ to the main event, and if you never read it then you’ll never really miss out on all that much. And that’s because this Reading Journal mainly acts as a kind of depository for my ongoing thoughts. Most of what I write here is largely ephemeral – a personal record of a personal journey through books – and anything of primary importance – individual story reviews for instance – is usually pulled out from this journal or referenced back to it at a later date.

So I guess what I’m saying I guess is please don’t think of this Reading Journal feature as being the main big tent event around here. And if you do feel that I skit around a single light bulb for way too long then, although it pains me to say so, please ignore these Reading Journal entries.

OK, I’m almost done with babbling on but I just want to see a couple more things. Firstly, I’ve taken the decision to radically alter one of my main reading projects, the Trevor vs. Moore Chekhov Challenge. I mentioned in a recent reading journal entry that although her short story writing was bordering on the sublime, I just wasn’t getting it with Lorrie Moore. I get all hot and bothered (in a literary way) whenever I read anything by William Trevor, but I just don’t get the same feeling when I read Moore. So I’ve decided tat life’s too short, and I’m going to drop Lorrie Moore, and instead focus that half of my short story reading on Raymond Carver.

I’m well aware of the story penning prowess that comes with Carver, yet he remains a writer who I have read little of. And if anything Carver will always be infinitely more Chekhovian in his style than Moore ever will, simply because of the way in which he wrote. So the Trevor vs. Moore Chekhov Challenge is no more, but from the ashes rises the very simliar, yet more exciting (for me) Trevor vs. Carver Chekhov Challenge. More details when I work them out .

The second thing I want to do is to apologise for the severe lack of full novel reviews over this past wee while. It’s atrocious I know that there appears to be such an absence of them – especially when I’ve turned my main reading primarily over to translated fiction – and I can do no more than apologise profusely. The main thing is I’m aware of it (and of the 5 books in ‘read but not yet reviewed’ box on the right there), and to get me kick-started again, I’m focusing my attention this week, along with my ongoing Hamsun reading, on a number of shorter translated works, all of which have the promise of being exquisite. Hopefully this will get me back into the swing again.

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Ok so on to the reading I’ve digested today, and kicking off the reading proceeding on a Monday is, as always my dearest Maupassant. First up was In The Wood, an endearing tale that shows that love is never dead (in a woman’s eyes at least ). You can catch up with my official afterthoughts HERE. The second story, The Signal, was a lot more frivolous and risque, suggesting that one should put one’s hands too close to the fire or they may get burnt. Not the best Maupassant tale by any stretch but well worth a read. You can catch up with my full afterthoughts on that one HERE.

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What the reader gets from Egyptian writer Hamdy el Gazzar’s extract from his novel Secret Pleasures is a remarkable double-sided reading experience. On the one hand, one is dipped into a thick cultural soup, where one experiences the sights and sounds of Giza, together with discovering the religious habits of revered blind Sheik Hubb el-Din. Then on the other hand one is brought into the seedy gossip surrounding the Sheik’s sex life and former prowess in bed. And all through the words of the Sheik’s young grandson. However this is only one half of this extract. The other half features a narrator, Rabia, reminiscing about the love he has always felt and has never lost for a girl called Samira. It’s another tale which is steeped in culture, but it’s accompanied this time with a strong presence of simmering lust. All in all quite a remarkable piece of writing from Hamdy el Gazzar. Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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So that’s me on to contribution #13 in Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio’s Stories anthology, and it’s a story from dark fantasy novelist Jeffrey Ford called Polka Dots and Moonbeams. As its title may suggest this is not a story of pure dark fantasy (whatever that is. I think I may have just made up a new genre ), but rather one of murderous intent set against the backdrop of the mid twentieth-century ‘swing era’. Although there’s no show from the likes of Frank Sinatra or any other members of The Ratpack, there is an old crooner called Nabob, whose presence just adds to giving an overbearing sense of the era. The story itself is dark and fantastical to some degree but to say too much would be to reveal too much. So I’m keeping quiet. I will say that the story very quickly gets and stays somewhat ambiguous, but rather than detract from the story, the mystery adds to it. All in all then a fine contribution from Ford, and it reveals to me that the man has quite a remarkable and unique style of storytelling. Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

::Tuesday’s reading plans::

• Have I ever told you how much I love Chekhov? Thank heavens it’s Tuesday then and an opportunity to dive into all things Imperial Russia. Two stories lined up – A Misfortune and sacrebleu (wrong language but oh well! ), A Pink Stocking.
• It’s a special story moment in Gaiman and Sarrantonio’s Stories (not that every story hasn’t produced a ‘special story moment’ so far), as taking Rob’s reading stage is the mighty Chuck Palahniuk with a story called Loser. Oh I’m expecting big things from Mr. Palahniuk, I really am!
• On to the next contribution in Arab anthology Beruit39 and it’s another novel extract entitled The Last Hanging Poem by Omani writer and doctor, Hussein al Abri.
• If you’ve been following RobAroundBooks then you will know I’m currently involved in a flash fiction reading project called the Flash Clash Challenge. It’s day six of that and I’ve got a bunch of flash fiction stories to get through from four five different writers – Nik Perring, Alex Burrett, David Gaffney, Etgar Keret and Dan Rhodes.

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

While I’m managing perfectly to keep up with my shorter reading assignments, I’m having a real hard time tackling my bigger ones. Again I was determined to dive back into my Independent Foreign Fiction Prize shortlist reading, and to make a start on Hamsun’s Shallow Soil (forethoughts) for my Totally Knut reading project, but again I failed to make much progress on either. What’s happening to me? Am I stretching myself too thinly? Am I losing my motivation for longer works of fiction? Thinking about it I’d say no, but I am feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the amount of reading I’ve still to do in order to complete my Foreign Fiction Prize project. What I think I might do is sideline that reading for a week or so, and tick off some of lesser (in terms of size), works in translation, just to give my batteries a much needed boost.

If I’m being completely honest though, I could lay much of the blame squarely at the feet of the Giro d’Italia, and the bit of a heatwave we’re experiencing at the moment. Both are distracting me massively. However, with the Giro coming to an end this weekend (sob!) and Scottish weather never staying hot for more than a couple of days, those distractions should dissipate and I’ll be back in full focus.

OK moving swiftly on and Tuesday means Chekhov and I had a couple of wonderful little tales to frolic through. Of course in reality it’s not possible to frolic through many of Chekhov’s tale such is their solemnity, and both the tales I read today were no exception. That said however both Chekhovian offerings were a delight to read, even if they were somewhat grey in colour.

The first tale, A Troublesome Visitor is about a woodsman living the middle of nowhere who is troubled by a never-ending stream of villains. The second tale, The Husband, concerns the visit of a cavalry regiment to a sleepy town, and a jealous husband. I’ve written up my afterthoughts on both stories so if you want to find out a little more about them then visit this page for A Troublesome Visitor, and this one for The Husband.

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I knew I wasn’t going to like one of the contributions from Beirut39 (Bloomsbury) at some point was going at some point, and unfortunately with Lebanese writer Hala Kawtharani’s contribution that point has come. It’s not that her contribution Three Stories – a tentatively linked (?) trio of shorts – is particularly dull, or poorly written. Rather that it’s presented at a pitch which I couldn’t seem to tune myself into. I’m disappointed certainly, but I suppose it’s something of a tall order to expect each and every contribution in an anthology to thrill one. Don’t be put off my lack of enthusiasm for this one though, your reading experience with this one will probably be a lot different. Story Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars

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You know you’ve read a good story when you immediately punch the air when you finish it and holler YEEESSS!! That’s exactly what happened the moment I finished reading Catch and Release the short story contribution from Lawrence Block, for Gaiman and Sarrantonio’s upcoming Stories anthology (Headline Publishing). The story, presented in third-person perspective tells the tale of an evil sort who trawls the highways and byways in search of female prey. Using the analogy and cover of a fisherman, the man picks up unsuspecting females with a view to causing them considerable personal harm. There’s a difference however, as as he likes to catch fish and release them, so he likes to do the same thing to women. Whether he does any of them any kind of harm in the interim is something you’ll have to discover for yourself. But I wil say this. Catch and Release is gripping! Catch and Release is compellingly! And most of all Catch and Release is unputdownable! Definitely one of the best in the anthology so far. Story Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

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And so I come to Day #2 of my Flash Clash challenge, and you know, I’m really starting to enjoy this. It’s taking no longer than an hour to read and digest these stories every day and I’m exposing myself to some wonderfully creative and clever writing. So far Nik Perring is surprising me. Sure I’ve only read two of his stories so far but he’s revealing himself to be both astute and impressively reflective. Is it possible to be reflective in something as short as flash fiction? I wouldn’t have thought so but Perring seems to be pulling it off somehow. Story of the day however goes to David Gaffney for his wonderful story, Last to Know. The good news for you guys – you can read the story for free (direct PDF link) along with a few others from the collection, courtesy of the kind folks at Salt Publishing. Anyway on today’s ‘Flash Clash’ rundown in full:

Author	Collection	Story Title	*Comment	Rating
Nik Perring		Bare and Naked in Siberia	Topical	Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
Alex Burrett		The Stone	Fishy	Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
Etgar Keret		Goodman	Average	Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
**David Gaffney		Last to Know Flying Lessons with Gary Numan	Superb Dull	Rating: 5 out of 5 stars Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
***Dan Rhodes		Beauty Binding Blind	Playful Average Comical	Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars Rating: 3 out of 5 stars Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

*Keeping in the spirit of flash I’m limiting myself to only giving single-word comments for each story.
**As they are incredibly short in length, David Gaffney’s stories are being ‘ticked off’ two at a time.
*** Dan Rhode’s stories are even shorter than Gaffney’s and I have to cover three per day in order to finish his collection in time.

::Wednesday’s reading plans::

• Wednesday’s are now put aside for Edgar Allan Poe reading to help to me progress however slowly, towards finishing my iPoe reading challenge. And this week I’m taking a look at A Tale of the Ragged Mountains, which sounds utterly irresistible. We’ll see .
• Moving on through Gaiman and Sarrantonio’s Stories, and it’s the turn of a writer I’ve never read anything from before, Jeffrey Ford, with a wonderfully titled story called Polka Dots and Moonbeams.
• It’s onwards through Arab anthology Beruit39 of course, and next up is another novel extract (the first in a while), this one from Egyptian Hamdy el Gazzar. The novel in question is called Secret Pleasures, and the translator for this extract is none other than the bastion of Arabic translators (one of my favourites anyway), Humphrey Davies.
• In the hope of making better progress, my only scheduled ‘long read’ for the day is going to be Knut Hamsun’s Shallow Soil.

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

Well dear reader I really must apologise for my tail off in posts towards the latter half of last week. With my stomach giving me some serious digestive problems I really lost most of my motivation for any kind of focused reading. It happens right? Well thankfully things have improved and I’m back into the swing of things again. That said I started back light so this first entry of the week kind of reflects that. The good news however, is I began my ‘Flash Clash’ challenge today so this journal entry includes info on my first foray into that.

Of course with it being Monday, my reading week kicked off with a double helping of Guy de Maupassant, as I progress slowly but surely through my Devouring De Maupassant reading project. The stories that I selected couldn’t have been much more different than one another. The first, Guillemot Rock, is something of a hunting tale (albeit a rather strange one), while the second tale, Imprudence, is more of a ‘lovey dovey’ affair, with a little bit of added fruitiness . That’s all I’m saying about the stories in this journal entry. You’ll have to pop along to my official afterthoughts on each story (Guillemot Rock afterthoughts HERE; Imprudence afterthoughts HERE).

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The latest contribution I found myself reading from the anthology of Arab writing, Beirut39 (Bloomsbury), was a story from French-born Algerian Faiza Guene, and what a story it is. In Mimouna the narrator reminisces on her life in a quite remarkable and poetic way. It all begins in the womb – where Mimouna (that’s the narrator’s name) has a spectacularly coherent grasp on things – and ends in old age. Sandwiched in between are recollections of key events from the narrator’s life; birth, the return of loved ones, exile.

It is perhaps not the story itself that provides the real highlight to Mimouna for me, but rather the way in which Guene tells it, in such an insightful and colourful way. So much so, that I adored every word. Story Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

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The latest author ‘stepping up to the plate’ in an attempt to thrill me in the same way that all ten of the previous contributors have managed to do so far in Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio’s short story anthology, Stories (Headline Publishing), was none other than famed horror novelist Peter Straub, with a story called Mallon the Guru. Did Straub succeed in thrilling me? To a point yes but not entirely.

The story follows American guru Spencer Mallon while on a four month journey through India. Accompanied by his spiritual leader, Urdang, the pair arrive at Sankwal, the village of a great yogi. As Mallon and Urdang enter the village a carrion crow plummets from the sky dead, and lands in front of their feet. Seeing the event as some kind of portent, the villagers beckon Mallon to visit the hut of a sick child, believing that he may have the spiritual powers needed to cure him.

So it all sounds like a good enough storyline doesn’t it. So why didn’t Mallon the Guru thrill me to the depths that it might have done? Well, I’ll start by saying that it is a good story, a really good story but for me it’s one of these stories that promises more than it actually delivers. It opens well, really well and therein perhaps lies the problem. From its opening I was expecting a five star read, but it ended up only being a three-and-a-half star read. Why? Because coming with such strong foundations, I felt the story that was built on top could have been so much more than it was. That said, it still made the grade, just not in an exceptional way. Story Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

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So welcome to the first entry in my latest reading project, inspired by the upcoming publication of Nik Perring’s debut flash fiction collection, Not So Perfect (Roastbooks). The idea behind the project is a simple one – to read Perring’s book alongside the collections of three other flash fiction specialists, just to see how they compare with one another. I’ve written up a ton of stuff about this project already, so I invite you to pop over to that post (and this one) to find out more. Two points I will quickly make – 1) My journey through this project will be updated daily through the virtual pages of this reading journal. 2) Keeping in the spirit of flash fiction, my comments on each story is limited to one word only. So without further ado then, here’s how my inaugural reading worked out:

Author	Collection	Story Title	*Comment	Rating
Nik Perring		Kiss	Tender	Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
Alex Burrett		My Goat Ate its Own Legs	Entertaining	Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
Etgar Keret		Bus Driver Who Wanted to be God	Sublime	Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
**David Gaffney		Your Name in Weetos The Lost Language of Hairgrips	Pleasing Odd	Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
***Dan Rhodes		Anthropology Ashes Baby	Witty Artful Strange	Rating: 4 out of 5 stars Rating: 4 out of 5 stars Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars

*Keeping in the spirit of flash I’m limiting myself to only giving single-word comments for each story.
**As they are incredibly short in length, David Gaffney’s stories are being ‘ticked off’ two at a time.
*** Dan Rhode’s stories are even shorter than Gaffney’s and I have t cover three per day in order to finish his collection in time.

::Tuesday’s reading plans::

• Two interesting stories lined up for Chekhov Tuesday, written of course by the great Anton Chekhov. The first is called A Troublesome Visitor. the second The Husband.
• It’s the turn of mystery writer Lawrence Block in Gaiman and Sarrantonio’s Stories, and a tale called Catch and Release.
• Up next in the anthology of Arab writing, Beruit39, is Lebanese writer Hala Kawtharani and a contribution called Three Stories.
• I really need to continue making some kind of progress through my Totally Knut reading project. You may remember I posted my forethoughts for the latest Hamsun novel I’m working my way through, Shallow Soil. So far that’s all I’ve done so I really need to get behind it.
• Now that the winner of this year’s Independent Foreign Fiction Prize has been announced, my sense of urgency at reading through the shortlisted titles seems to have gone out of the window. I don’t want that to happen, and really want to finish what I started. So, a concerted effort is needed in order to get myself back into Sankar’s Chowringhee (Atlantic Books).

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

The start of a new week and I was surprisingly upbeat about my reading after having a weekend of doubt and doldrums. I guess I was still disappointed at not having met my challenge to read the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize shortlist before the winner was announced. But I’m over that now. It’s not the end of the world and provided I finish what I set out to do in the first place, then I’ll still be a happy bunny.

Of course Monday is always a happy day for me because I get to dip into the literary world of my precious Guy de Maupassant. And it was quite landmark day for me today as I finished the last unread story in the Oxford University Press Maupassant collection, A Day in the Country and Other Stories (I’ll be posting my afterthoughts on the collection as a whole as soon as). The story in question was Clochette, a rather sorrowful tale, and you can read all about it in my afterthoughts post. The other tale I dipped into – Tombstones – was a more lively affair with Maupassant showing once more, his rather wry sense of humour. I’ve already post my official afterthoughts for that story too, and you can find that post HERE.

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Fellow blogger Iris passed the comment yesterday that the more I write about Beruit39 (Bloomsbury) the more she wants to pick up a copy. It’s funny that she should say such a thing (thank you for taking the time Iris) because the more I read Beriut39, the more I’m falling in love with it. And today’s offering – a two story affair collectively known as Two Stories from Syrian writer Dima Wannous – only helped to deepen that love. Two Stories provides an interlinked reading experience, with both shorts perhaps not being directly linked in plot or character, but being adjoined in a way which explores the more taboo aspects of Syrian society.

The first of the two stories, Hanan, follows a free-thinking liberated woman who has a habit of using her sexuality to get the things she want’s in life. Although married, Hanan has been involved in a series of affairs, all of which have brought personal gain. Her latest conquest, Jaber – ‘a young man pulsating with vitality,‘ seems to be the best ‘catch’ of them all so far, bestowing upon her the finest of gifts. The biggest question is of course whether Hanan’s husband is aware of her exploits. But the answer to that question dear friend, is one you’ll have to discover for yourself.

The second story of the pair, Jihad, follows the son of a former minister and highly successful businessman. The story seems more about the man – Jihad Mustafa Agha, justifying his wealth and finding charitable outlets on which to ease any guilty feelings that he has.

All in all a couple of good stories then, which toy with the concept of unlimited freedom in a country where such liberties probably don’t come so easily (or at least that’s how I see it from my very limited, and no doubt antiquated perspective). It’s interesting to note that Wannous also presents a cultural show on a satellite network. Does she represent the new wave of modern, liberated Syrian woman? Her writing, playful and puckish and often quite sensual, would certainly make you think that. Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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Moving on to the next story in Gaiman and Sarrantonio’s Stories anthology and if it’s imagination that you want then it’s imagination that you most definitely get from The Goblin Lake, a wonderfully inventive tale from Philadelphia-based writer Michael Swanwick. The story, set in 1646, is about a detachment of Hessian cavalrymen who find themselves in the mountains of the Spessart region of Germany. A guide tells them of a bottomless lake where things that are dipped into it come out totally changed. Pebbles can become rubies, dead things can become reanimated and so on. Curious as anyone would be – especially at the prospect of worthless stones becoming invaluable gemstones – the cavalry unit encourage the peasant guide to take them to the lake.

So, what can I say about this story? Well I’ve already declared it to be highly imaginative, and it most certainly is. But it’s also a bit of a thinking man’s story. Without giving too much away it’s all about characters in books having a mind of their own; a life outwith the presence of the reader, and thinking about such a concept while reading tends to make the whole affair a bit mindbogglingly. It that a criticism? No, not really. Swanwick is actually very clever for thinking the way he does with this story, and I applaud him for his genius. The only thing I’m saying is that one has to mull over what one has read in order to fully understand it. And actually I kind of like it like that. Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

::Tuesday’s reading plans::

• It’s Chekhov Tuesday so I have a couple of tales lined up – The Chorus Girl and The Schoolmaster.
• My journey through Gaiman and Sarrantonio’s Stories rolls on, and for Tuesday it’s the turn of the great horror novelist, Peter Straub and the enigmatically titled story, Mallon the Guru.
• Onwards with Arab writing anthology Beruit39 and next up is French-born Algerian Faiza Guene and a story called Mimouna
• I really need to begin making some serious progress through Sankar’s Chowringhee (Atlantic Books) if I’m ever going to finish my read through of this year’s Independent Foreign Fiction Prize shortlist.

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

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.

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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.

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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: 4.5 out of 5 stars

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: 4 out of 5 stars

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: 3 out of 5 stars

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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: 4 out of 5 stars

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: 3.5 out of 5 stars

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: 4 out of 5 stars

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: 4.5 out of 5 stars

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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

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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: 4 out of 5 stars

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: 2 out of 5 stars

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.

Monday may be one of the most depressing days of the week for a lot of people but for me it means Maupassant and I couldn’t be happier. Today it was the turn of a couple of tales which are, in a tenuous way, linked by the theme of babies. The first Mademoiselle Pearl is rather lengthy, but superbly penned. The second – Rosalie Prudent, is short but equally as well written. Both together show Maupassant’s incredible writing ability. I’ve already written up my afterthoughts on both (Mademoiselle Pearl, Rosalie Prudent) so enough said in the pages of today’s journal.

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Onwards then to the next contribution in the Hay Festival project’s anthology of Arab writing and today’s offering was an extract from the novel The Twentieth Terrorist by Saudi writer Abdullah Thabit. OK so I know this is yet another extract from a novel, but just like the rest of them so far, this one also reads as an encapsulated whole. In this extract we join Zahi al-Jibali – the main character of the novel, believed fictionally to have been twentieth terrorist involved in the 9/11 plot – as he begins attending a Quranic school at age 6. Originally destined to go to a normal government school – as two of his brothers before him have done – he, and his father are convinced by the oldest fanatical brother, that Quranic school would be the best place for him. It soon becomes clear to Zahi however, that life in this school is going to be brutal, and that the curriculum is going to be driven by political and religious ideology.

As one can imagine this is rather a powerful extract from The Twentieth Terrorist; one which demonstrates with full vividness, the brutality of a school which is being run under extremist religious authority. But with this brutality is juxtaposed a more peaceful element, that of the people of Asir in general, who are ‘good folk’; generous, great lovers of music, poetry, and just great lovers in general. Once again this taster from Thabit has made me thirsty for more, and I hope that this is a novel which will enjoy English publication one day. Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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The next story up for me from Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio’s Stories anthology, was Unbelief, a rather short tale from British novelist Michael Marshall Smith. The story follows contract killer Kane, as he confronts an intended target in Bryant Park, Manhattan on the Eve before Christmas. It soon becomes clear in the conversation that ensues however, that this killing may be a little more personal than most.

You know, this isn’t a particularly badly written story. And as with the others I’ve read so far in this anthology, I rather enjoyed it. However, for me it doesn’t quite hit the mark on that wholly imaginative goal that this anthology is shooting for. Sure there is a slight diversion from the norm, as is revealed as one progresses through the story, but comparing it to the others that have come before it, this story doesn’t quite measure up. Story Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

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Moving swiftly on to a quick rundown on my progress through this year’s Foreign Fiction Prize shortlist, and the last time I spoke to you through the virtual pages of this reading journal you may remember I entrenched in Julia Franck’s The Blind Side of the Heart (Harvill Secker). Well, I also mentioned in that journal entry that the Franck’s absence of speech marks in the novel was having an adverse affect on me. So panicking because of lack of time, I decided to put The Blind Side of the Heart to one side for a time, hoping the next title in the shortlist would get me reading quicker. That next title in the shortlist was Chowringhee by Sankar (Atlantic Books), and that’s the one I’m reading now.

So, am I getting through Chowringhee a bit faster? Absolutely! And what a delight it is to read. Wonderfully poetic, wonderfully cultural and wonderfully warming. It’s too soon to say whether it’s an absolute winner as far as I’m concerned (both in my eyes and in the eyes of the Foreign Fiction Prize shortlist judges), but early indications are looking good.

::Tuesday’s reading plans::

• As usual Tuesday mean Chekhov, so it’s full steam ahead with a couple of the Russian meister’s shorts. First up is The Chemist’s Wife, followed by the enigmatically titled Not Wanted.
• It’s story #6 in Gaiman and Sarrantonio’s Stories, and a rather lengthy one by Texan author Joe R. Lansdale, called The Stars are Falling.
• My wonderful journey through the world of Arab writing continues with the next contribution in the Beirut39 anthology. Today it’s the turn of the first contribution I’ve come across from a female writer – Palestinian Adania Shibli, and a full-length short story called At the Post Office
• Chowringhee! Need I say more?

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

Before I go on to give you a rundown on my reading for Thursday 6th May, I should declare that I’m writing this on Saturday 8th, a full day later than when I should be writing it up, and indeed posting it. I’m sure you know what it like though fellow reader, all the non-bookish/blogging things seem to join together and conspire against you, stopping you from getting your work done, and that’s what’s happened in this case. However, they say better late than never though, so better late than never, here’s a rundown on Thursday’s reading.

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Determined to organise my short story reading a lot better than I have been of late, I’ve begun to designate more specific days for specific reading. So far this week the plan’s worked out well – as this week’s other journal entries would suggest – and today was no different. Thursday for the time being, is now my day for concentrating on my William Trevor vs. Lorrie Moore reading project; a project which will eventually reveal to me (I hope) which of the two authors is the more Chekhovian in their short story writing. So with it being Thursday that meant the day started with a short story from both Trevor and Moore.

First up was the William Trevor short, which comes from Penguin’s tome-like William Trevor: The Collected Stories. The story in question is the wonderfully titled, The Day We Got Drunk on Cake, a story which follows our narrator Mike as he sets out on an unexpected day of socialising with his friend Sawnn and two female companions, Margo and Jo. Single but obsessed with a woman called Lucy, Mike’s day soon becomes dominated by a need to phone the beloved Lucy at every opportunity he can. His efforts are hindered (and sometimes helped), by one of the female companions, Margo, who’s adamant that today is the day that Mike is going to take on the role of personal marital councillor, helping her with a problem that she has with her husband Nigel.

Now, if only this story were as exquisite as its title would suggest, then it would have been a great tale. However, The Day We Got Drunk on Cake turned out for me to be one the dullest and most disengaging William Trevor short stories I’ve ever had the displeasure of reading (Wow Rob, and you being such a great Trevor fan? I know! I’m devastated ). I found the storyline for this one to be largely pointless and uneventful, the characters flat and uninteresting, and for once I left the scene of a William Trevor reading feeling decidedly underwhelmed. Unusual because I usually come away uplifted from a William Trevor reading. But sadly, not this time! Story Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars

Moving swiftly on and the Lorrie Moore story for the day, from Faber’s equally tome-like Lorrie Moore: The Collected Stories was Escape from the Invasion of the Love-Killers. Thankfully this story did match up a little better in relation to the promise that its title set up for it. The story follows Gerald Maine aerobics teacher of pre-schoolers and his attempts to get on more intimate terms with his friend who lives across the hallway, Benna, a somewhat glitzy nightclub singer.

Now, I’ve probably made this one sound like a gigolo vs. tart kind of story but Moore is a much more clever writer than that. The story, even given its short length, is a lot deeper; a more contemplative affair with loneliness, wanting and the value of children being the main themes of exploration. The story also comes with most of the most inventive and entertaining things I’ve ever read in description of a new-born baby:

Once you’ve seen a child born you realise a baby’s not much more than a reconstituted ham and cheese sandwich. Just a little anagram of you and what you’ve been eating for nine months.

Hehe..isn’t that a remarkable way to look at babies? I think it is and it marks the real highlight of this story for me; a story which is definitely readable but in all honesty, nothing overly outstanding. Story Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

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I’ve got admit, when I first read today’s story offering from Arab writing anthology Beirut39 – an extract from the novel Skin of Shadow by Algerian writer Abderrazak Boukebba – I didn’t really take it in. Reading more as a story of Islamic myth, it is only when one slows down to take in the detail, that one is confronted with an exquisite piece of writing. The extract (which reads as an encapsulate whole), offers a glimpse into the life of Dhiab – one of youngsters of the village, Awlad Jahish. Dhiab is the only one of the village youths who has refused to swear an oath that he will never leave the village, and protect it and its survival from rival tribes. Despite bringing on the anger of the village elders, Dhiab is adamant in his decision, and it soon becomes clear that he has good reason.

Mythical, enchanting and wholly written in the style of Islamic tradition, this extract from Skin of Shadow fails only in being too short. I can hope with every cell in my cell in my body that this novel will one day be published in English. Story Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

*note: You can an interview with Abderrazak Boukebba (both in English and Arabic), over at the Beirut39 blog.

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And so I came to what could potentially be the most amazing, or the most disastrous story in Gaiman & Sarrantonio’s upcoming anthology Stories (Headline), The Truth is a Cave in the Black Mountains. Scribed by the storymeister himself Gaiman, it was interesting to discover just how well the man could measure up to his own brief, of delivering a short story that stretches the boundaries of imaginative fiction. As an incredible storyteller I was confident that Gaiman was going to live up to the expectation, but there’s always that little inkling of doubt, especially when the first three stories in the anthology are all bordering on the sublime. Surely Neil Gaiman isn’t going to make it four exceptional short stories in a row, is he?

Well, I’m happy to report that The Truth is a Cave in the Black Mountains is yet another story of breathtaking originality and quality; one that kept me riveted until the last sentence. The story focuses on the journey of a dwarf and his guide Calum MacInnes, as they set off across the rugged Scottish landscape in search of a treasure cave on a mysterious Scottish isle. It all sounds straight forward enough doesn’t it? But don’t believe a word of it. If you know Gaiman then you know that his storytelling is far from straightforward. This story twists and turns like a path going up a rugged Scottish mountainside, which you’ll also know if you’ve ever walked on one, is unrelenting in its turns yet supremely exhilarating.

Ever since reading The Graveyard Book, I’ve considered Neil Gaiman to be an extraordinary story teller, and this story only reinforces that belief. With regards to his contribution to this anthology in particular, Gaiman shows that he very much practices what he preaches. Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

::Friday’s reading plans::

Although I was planning on designating Friday’s as the day for catching up on my Fifty-Two Stories short story reading (plus reading shorts from a couple of other online portals), I’ve decided to use the rest of the week to crack on with my reading of this year’s Independent Foreign Fiction Prize shortlist. With only six days left until the overall Prize winner is announced (Thursday May 13th), and having two and two-thirds of the shortlist still left to read (Ekk! ), I’m cutting things a bit fine on this one, and I want to dedicate all of my reading time to catching up.

As far as my reading of the Foreign Fiction Prize shortlist goes, I’ve another important thing to add. You may remember that I’m currently on Julia Franck’s novel, The Blind Side of the Heart (Harvill Secker)? Well, in all honesty it’s doing my head in. I’m taking too long to read it. Why? I’m not sure, but the complete absence of speech marks isn’t helping at all (don’t you just hate it when authors try to be overly clever ). So to stop me stalling any more, I’m putting the Franck novel to one side for a couple of days and moving on to the next one on the shortlist, Chowringhee by Sankar (Atlantic Books). This was a difficult short-term decision to make – especially when it takes me away from one of my favourite translator’s Anthea Bell – but I think it’s for the greater good. I only hope I’ll be able to connect with Franck’s novel a lot more readily when I get back to it.

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

Would it shock you to know that it’s been almost eight months since I last read an Edgar Allan Poe story for my iPoe reading challenge? Well, desperate to make amends for this shortfall, I set about reserving Wednesday as my Poe day, when I tick off at least one story from the master of the macabre. Today’s Poe story however, wasn’t even close to horrifying. Although The Devil the Belfry may sound as though it has terror written all over it, it turned out to be more ‘Munchkin’ than ‘macabre’. I’ll let my official iPoe review post for the story tell you more.

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My journey through Bloomsbury’s anthology of Arab writing, Beirut39, continued today as I found myself on the threshold of contribution #3, a short story by Abdellah Taia called The Wounded Man. You may recall when I declared that I was reading this story by Abdellah Taia in my reading plans yesterday, I commented on the fact that Taia was the first Moroccan Arab writer to publicly declare his homosexuality. Well, it seems that that was a prudent point to make, and the reason why becomes wholly clear once one has read this story. Let me explain.

In The Wounded Man we join the narrator during Ramadan, as his hidden feelings of homosexuality rise to the fore while watching the banned (in Morocco) French homosexual movie of the same name. He’s in the presence of his sleeping mother, in their Sale home near the Rabat Beach. And with emotions switching between overbearing lust and fear of discovery, the narrator cautiously yet compellingly keeps his eyes firmly affixed to the TV screen.

What this story offers I think with its wrestle of fear vs. lust, is not only a powerful insight into one man’s struggle with something considered incredibly taboo in such a closed, religious society, but also a glimpse into the author’s life itself, at one of its most traumatic times, when he was close to deciding whether he should publicly announce his homosexuality. I may be wrong about that of course, but the intense power and intense emotion that comes from this story would suggest I’m not. Regardless, it’s a hugely powerful story; one that will stick with me for a long time. Story Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

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Today I moved on to the third story in Stories, Neil Gaiman & Al Sarrantonio’s upcoming anthology, and a story called Wildfire in Manhattan by Joanne Harris. With the first two stories in this anthology pretty much blowing my socks off, my expectations for this one were high; even more so given that it comes from the same hand that penned that bestselling novel, Chocolat. So did Wildfire in Manhattan meet my expectations? Didn’t it just. And then some!

If you didn’t know by now already, the primary aim of the Stories anthology is to showcase exemplary examples of imaginative fiction. So far Roddy’s Doyle’s Blood and Joyce Carol Oates’ Fossil-Figures have measured up magnificently, and I’m happy to declare that Wildfire in Manhattan has made the mark too, by bringing godly combat to the streets of New York. The main character is Lukas Wilde, a flashy and debonair lead singer of a rock band who is actually a god in human form (referred to as Aspects in the story). Lukas is a semiretired god of wildfire, now preoccupied with rock music, but he’s not the only god wandering around New York City. There’s his twin brother Brendan, an aspect of hearth fire; Arthur Pluviose, aspect of thunder; Old man Mooney, a drunkard aspect of the Moon; and living out in a brownstone apartment in Brooklyn Heights is Sunny, aspect of.. you got it, the Sun.

All would seem happy and content then for gods living out their retirement in New York City, but all is not. Lurking in the streets and alleyways are Skol and Haiti, servants of Shadow aka Chaos, and they only have one occupation on their mind – hunting!

So that’s about all I can tell you about Wildfire in Manhattan without going into spoiler territory, but I can tell you that I enjoyed it thoroughly. It’s not often that New York becomes a battleground for the gods, but in this story it does, although not quite on the epic scale that you may think it does. Humanised (to an extent), the gods take on more earthly preoccupations and characteristics, and this all leads to a rather enjoyable and humorous reading affair. Story Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

::Thursday’s reading plans::

• If you know me then you’ll also know I’m not very good with poetry. The next contribution in Beirut39 is a poem by Moroccan poet Abderrahim Elkhassar. Would anybody possibly mind if I skipped it, and moved on to the next contribution, an extract from the novel Skin of Shadow by Abderrazak Boukebba? I’m sure Abderrahim’s poem is exquisite, but really these things are lost on me, and I don’t know why.
• Day four of Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio’s Stories and it’s on to the main man himself, Neil Gaiman, with a story called The Truth is a Cave in the Black Mountains. Am I excited? You bet I am!
• Thursday for the time being is now getting set aside for my Trevor vs. Moore reading challenge. It’s a little reading project I’ve set up myself in order to try and discover who out of William Trevor and Lorrie Moore, is the most Chekhovian in their short story writing. It’s another one of my reading projects that seems to have slipped off the rails a bit lately, and I want to bring it back online. So that means I’m reading a short story from each author. The Lorrie Moore short that I’m working my way through is the wonderfully titled Escape from the Invasion of the Love-Killers, while the Trevor Moore tale is the equally majestically titled, The Day We Got Drunk on Cake.
• You’ll notice I made no mention of my current Independent Foreign Fiction Prize shortlist read, Julia Franck’s The Blind Side of the Heart, in my journal notes above. There’s a reason. It’s that old enemy called time Arrgghhh!!! I’ll hopefully rectify that tomorrow.

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