This novel is set on a future Earth where most of human kind lives a highly artificial life in giant skyscrapers, freeing up the surrounding countryside for food production.
The constraint of living in an enclosed, structured and crowded society has resulted in social customs that include extreme politeness and the free sharing of sexual partners. Fertility is encouraged. Contraception is a sin. Any dissent from the social structure results either psychological reprogramming or in a death sentence - where the offender is hurled down the chute into the furnaces at the base of the towers.
Like the society it depicts, the book is highly structured too, in an interesting way. Each chapter is narrated from the point of view of a different character or couple. And each chapter is almost a short story on its own. (Indeed, initially I thought this was a collection of short stories; but some of the later chapters bring the characters together.) The ending is grim and hopeless.
What I liked about the book:
This was a fantastic and vivid portrait of a possible future world. The beliefs of the high-rise society were really well portrayed in a very sympathetic manner. Different view points are well conveyed. Each narrator had his own distinctive voice - not an easy thing to achieve when presenting the views of members of a highly co-ordinated and homogeneous society.
What I didn't like about the book:
Now, I am quibbling, because there is little not-to-like in this great book. But, initially published 40 years ago in 1971, some aspects of the world see strangely old-fashioned. For example, the 'nightwalkers' of the tower block are men; women wait to be visited. The men have jobs; the women stay at home and look after the children and order the meals.
Having said that, it is amazing how many aspects of this book seem bang up-to-date; the electronic music with light shows, the computer and databases, the requirement to be 'politically correct', the intensive farming methods ....
Kindle edition and paperback edition:
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Thursday, 22 September 2011
Sunday, 11 September 2011
All in the Mind, by Alastair Campbell
I tried to be as neutral as possible when reading this book.
Alastair Campbell, for those who don't know, was the Director of Communications and Strategy for Tony Blair, during the years 1997-2003, a period that culminated in the ill conceived Iraq War of 2003. So, my main reason for reading the book was to see if Alistair Campbell's fictional work was as strong and persuasive as the literary efforts of the infamous 'dodgy dossier'.
What I liked about this book:
Alastair has, famously, battled both depression and alcoholism. It is good to read a story that takes these themes but avoids being overtly autobiographical. I liked the sympathetic portrayal of patients, and their psychiatrist, as flawed human beings with strengths and weaknesses, doing the best they can.
The story worked particularly well when dealing with matters of which Alastair Campbell has some personal experience; the alcoholic M.P. being particularly sympathetically portrayed.
The narrative structure was rather complex, involving the individual stories of multiple patients, but the various strands were drawn together into a more-or-less satisfactory conclusion.
What I didn't like:
For my simple tastes, there were too many characters to empathise with and this led, perversely, to feeling less empathy with any of them.
He failed to avoid some stereotypes: the pushy wife of the alcoholic MP and the nagging wife of the psychiatrist were both very two-dimensional. In fact, none of the female characters were particularly authentic, despite valiant attempts.
Some of the resolutions at the end (and I am thinking particularly of the scarred young girl) were unconvincing.
Alastair Campbell, for those who don't know, was the Director of Communications and Strategy for Tony Blair, during the years 1997-2003, a period that culminated in the ill conceived Iraq War of 2003. So, my main reason for reading the book was to see if Alistair Campbell's fictional work was as strong and persuasive as the literary efforts of the infamous 'dodgy dossier'.
What I liked about this book:
Alastair has, famously, battled both depression and alcoholism. It is good to read a story that takes these themes but avoids being overtly autobiographical. I liked the sympathetic portrayal of patients, and their psychiatrist, as flawed human beings with strengths and weaknesses, doing the best they can.
The story worked particularly well when dealing with matters of which Alastair Campbell has some personal experience; the alcoholic M.P. being particularly sympathetically portrayed.
The narrative structure was rather complex, involving the individual stories of multiple patients, but the various strands were drawn together into a more-or-less satisfactory conclusion.
What I didn't like:
For my simple tastes, there were too many characters to empathise with and this led, perversely, to feeling less empathy with any of them.
He failed to avoid some stereotypes: the pushy wife of the alcoholic MP and the nagging wife of the psychiatrist were both very two-dimensional. In fact, none of the female characters were particularly authentic, despite valiant attempts.
Some of the resolutions at the end (and I am thinking particularly of the scarred young girl) were unconvincing.
Monday, 21 March 2011
Blink, by Malcolm Gladwell
Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking
This is what I wrote about Blink on the Shelfari review site, a few months ago:
'Interesting book and very readable. It explores the role of intuition in our thinking (the blink being that sudden feeling or understanding; rapid cognition) and how this may contribute to great decision making, but can also lead us astray.
I would have, personally, found the book more useful if there has been some guidance on when to trust the "blink" and how to develop the ability to "blink" more successfully. '
Recently, I picked up the book and re-read the final chapter and realise I had missed the point.
Blink ends with a "conclusion" involving a tale about a female trombone player, Abbie Conant. Abbie was chosen for an orchestra on the basis of an audition where she played the trombone behind a screen. As they listened, everyone knew she was the one trombone player they wanted for their orchestra.
Abbie's problems began when she stepped in front of the screen and the music director realised she was a woman. Since she was a woman, his eyes told him, she could not have the strength to play a 'masculine' instrument like the trombone. She was demoted and given less pay than her male colleagues. Although she was picked because of her effect on the ears of the music director, she faced discrimination because of her effect on his eyes.
She took the case to court. And won. Now many orchestras conduct screened auditions and the number of women in orchestras has increased as a direct result.
What was the point I missed?
The first point is: we should encourage and allow the blink moment to happen, by keeping our minds free of prejudices and preconceptions.
The second point is: as we may not know what these prejudices and preconceptions are, we should be prepared to expend some effort creating situations to enable the blink to happen.
Do you believe your perceptions are always logical?
Do you believe you can hear clearly without being distracted by what you actually see ?
I was fascinated by a recent Horizon programme on the BBC that proves you can't.
Don't believe me? Try the McGurk effect for yourself.
Sunday, 13 March 2011
Black Dogs, by Ian McEwan
This is a book about two obstinate old people with a failed marriage - and how dangerous challenges can shape our lives.
I had previously read Ian McEwan's more recent book, On Chesil Beach, and had not particularly enjoyed it. Since Ian McEwan is one of our most respected British authors, I was determined to have another go.
What I liked about this book:
What I didn't like about this book: The book starts with an interesting preface. I would have liked to know more about the narrator, his family and, particularly, what happened to his neice, Sally. The main story opens at a languid pace and, being told through the eyes of a third person, I felt somewhat distanced from the main characters and the events that slowly enfolded, until the pace picked up and the story came alive in the second half of the book.
I had previously read Ian McEwan's more recent book, On Chesil Beach, and had not particularly enjoyed it. Since Ian McEwan is one of our most respected British authors, I was determined to have another go.
What I liked about this book:
- The sympathetic portrayal of the main female character, who we first meet as an old woman. Later we learn of her experiences when young and how these shaped her life. (To start with, I thought the narrator was going to favour the analytical, but cold, husband.)
- The underlying tension created by the vague menace of the episode of the 'black dogs', introduced early into the narrative, but not revealed in full until near the end.
- The linking of the fall of the Berlin wall into the narrative - as this was such a powerful news story and had such tremendous resonance for those of us who lived through the age of the Wall and saw its fall.
- The fact that walking plays an important role in the story. (As I am a keen walker and involved in my own epic walk around the coast).
What I didn't like about this book: The book starts with an interesting preface. I would have liked to know more about the narrator, his family and, particularly, what happened to his neice, Sally. The main story opens at a languid pace and, being told through the eyes of a third person, I felt somewhat distanced from the main characters and the events that slowly enfolded, until the pace picked up and the story came alive in the second half of the book.
Sunday, 27 February 2011
Don't interupt me - I'm reading a book
You know how frustrating it is when you are reading a book and people interupt you?
'I see you are not busy ..'
'Do you want to do something?"
'If you've got a minute...'
'Glad I caught you while you are doing nothing...'
Do you want to shout out loud?
Found this on YouTube, by the wonderful Julian Smith - and love it.
'I see you are not busy ..'
'Do you want to do something?"
'If you've got a minute...'
'Glad I caught you while you are doing nothing...'
Do you want to shout out loud?
'I am busy, I am doing something, I haven't got a minute, I'm not doing nothing; for the love of all that's holy, can't you see what I'm doing?
I'm READING!'
Found this on YouTube, by the wonderful Julian Smith - and love it.
Saturday, 19 February 2011
The Undomestic Goddess, by Sophie Kinsella
Science fiction, action adventure and psychological thrillers are my usual choices. I am not a 'girly' girl and I don't like literature that is marked as 'chick lit'. The cover alone would put me off picking this one of the shelves.
But, I am making a real effort to broaden the genres I read. And have read one of Sophie Kinsella's books before and found it entertaining. So, when I found this for sale in a charity shop, I bought it.
What I liked about the book
Told from the point of view of the main character - a young female lawyer who falls from grace and ends up doing something completely different - this was frothy fun. The story moved at a pace and there was always something happening. The language chosen was easy and clear, without being patronising. So, I will confess to enjoying this amusing (but ridiculous) story.
What I didn't like about the book
I just couldn't quite picture the main character as a seriously good lawyer - she was more a Bridget Jones character, dippy and scatterbrained. The basic plot was unlikely. The love interest was too obvious. The ending was predictable.
Who would enjoy it?
Young women (probably younger than the main character) who like the idea of being seriously successful, while living a wildly crazy sort of life with no ties. Great for holiday reading, reading while travelling; or for cheering yourself up when life gets just a bit too serious.
Friday, 28 January 2011
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