Devouring Books: Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks

I think I was predisposed to dislike Birdsong. I mean, it's kind of the book on my TBR Challenge list that I've been looking at all year and going 'not Birdsong', and frankly, I probably would have gotten rid of it when I got rid of loads of other books had it not been on that list. Interestingly, I'm not like 'Oh MAN, I HATE that challenge for making me read this', but also I'm not like 'This is the greatest book I've ever read and everyone MUST read it.' I'm just... Fine with having read it, and fine with never reading it again.

I mean... It's ostensibly a WWI book, which you guys know I'm never going to love, and then there's the fact that I kind of think of Faulks as a pervy old man when he writes a sex scene, and there was also this whole bit set in 'the future' where something from the past was tied up, and Faulks showed that he's really not good at writing a modern (ok, 1978, but that's modern, right?!) female character. I mean, honestly, I was a little embarrassed for him in these chapters, I can't lie. PLUS, he's really good at using his characters as a mouthpiece, which isn't something I normally even pick up on but it was so blatant in Birdsong that I was a little bit astonished, and like 'Oh really? He'd say that, would he? NO HE WOULDN'T, THAT'S A THOUGHT FROM YOU!"

And then there was all the shouting in my brain every time the sentence 'he could hear the birds singing' or any variation on that was used. And trust me, it was used A LOT. There was much eye-rolling and sighing. Because firstly, how much do birds actually sing when it's not, you know, morning; and secondly, how much do you notice it when they do, and thirdly I KNOW YOUR FUCKING BOOK IS CALLED BIRDSONG, STOP THROWING IT IN MY FACE ALL THE TIME.

But apart from that, it wasn't quite as bad as I was expecting. But it's still not as amazing as these people seem to think it was:

"Ambitious, outrageous, poignant, sleep-disturbing, Birdsong is not a perfect novel- just a great one." SIMON SCHAMA, New Yorker
Well, at least he said it isn't perfect. As for all the other stuff... Meh. And I really don't know where he got outrageous from. Must have run out of adjectives.

"An amazing book- among the most stirringly erotic I have read for years... I have read it and re-read it and can think of no novel for many, many years that has so moved me or stimulated in me so much reflection on the human spirit." QUENTIN CREWE, Daily Mail
We have to talk about this erotic thing. The sex scenes in this book made me cringe SO much (do we think "the pink swell of divided flesh" is a good way to talk about that area? Or that "Isabelle settled herself, luxuriously, on the feeling of impalement" is totally hot? I really hope not) that I can only imagine he found the war bits erotic which, considering he writes for the Daily Mail wouldn't surprise me.

"This book is so powerful that as I finished it I turned to the front to start again." ANDREW JAMES, Sunday Express
This book was so non-powerful that as I finished it, I put it in the bag for the charity shop. Sorry, Faulks.

"One of the finest novels of the last 40 years." BRIAN MASTERS, Mail on Sunday
Nope. Since 1953? I'm sure there are many finer books. At least I hope so...

"This is literature at its very best: a book with the power to reveal the unimagined, so that one's life is set in a changed context. I urge you to read it." NIGEL WATTS, Time Out
I understand what Nigel is saying, but it seems to me like he basically doesn't live in the same world as me- I feel like every November we're asked to relive the First World War, and we do, and it's not nice, and I don't think Faulks' novel has made it any clearer to me because hey- he wasn't there either. Plus the end is really non-believable, although if something similar to it did actually happen, then my little heart would be warmed by it VERY much.

I don't know how fair it is responding to the criticism that they obviously put on the book because it was nice, but there is no blurb! All there is to go by are these quotes, and I don't think they're an accurate reflection of Birdsong at all. Especially the erotic thing, because no.

Birdsong might be a very good book written about the First World War, but that was never going to be my favourite thing. It was ok but not great, it was not stirringly erotic, and Faulks doesn't care for his female characters much, or at least not enough to give them proper personalities and things. And I wish for "I KNOW YOUR FUCKING BOOK IS CALLED BIRDSONG, STOP THROWING IT IN MY FACE ALL THE TIME." to be used on the blurb of the next edition of this, just as a warning to people like me. Because that really was bloody annoying.

Sunday Sundries: Dear Blog, I miss you

We'll talk about how I miss my blog in a minute. But first, let's do that thing where I tell you about my week and you, in all likelihood, don't care all that much. But anyway!

I was totally ill on Monday and Tuesday so I was off work coughing and being miserable (and blogging! Totally my only two posts of the week were on those days) and I definitely shouldn't have gone in on Wednesday but I did because I'm a brave little soldier. And also it meant they'd know I wasn't faking when I was off on Monday and Tuesday because apparently that's a thing I think about! On Monday and Tuesday, though, in spite of a massive cold, I totally watched ALL of season 3 of The Hills and sewed like 2 and a half cushions, and by the end of it I wanted to MURDER everyone in The Hills. Which wasn't really their fault but mine for watching SO MUCH SO FAST (I think I gave myself cabin fever...) but also... They're SO fucking annoying. I'm sort of in the middle of writing this post about how much Sex and the City pisses me off when I watch it now, but I think the same is true, if not true-er of The Hills.

Although once they get Season 4 on Netflix, I'm totally there. I have issues.

So anyway, once I was back at work that's basically what I did, along with more sewing in the evenings, and also somewhere in there I managed to finish Birdsong which is ridiculous and amazing and means that I only need to read one more book (Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela) to be DONE with all my challenges, which, as you may be able to tell, excites me! I feel the freedom from the shackles of challenges beckoning me! (Can you tell I'm not signing up for any this year? I CAN'T DO IT!) Anyway... And then on Friday night I couldn't get to sleep at allll and for no reason and it was really annoying, so this weekend has been kind of a washout because I've been SO TIRED at all times. Even now. And I have another tree to decorate (I've already done one today, and I'm kind of like... didn't this feel less like work when I was a kid?!)

Now.

So, I miss my blog. And by that, I really do mean my blog and not my blogging peoples for once, because, you know, twitter. And I think it would be really easy to blame work for not blogging that much, but you know what? My entire mornings are free and I pretty regularly waste them doing not much. And yeah, I've got less time to read now, but I've got two reviews lined up to write, and I just... Haven't. And it makes me sad because my blog used to be kind of like my job-where-no-one-paid-me-but-it-was-the-funnest-ever-job, and now it's barely on my radar. Sad times.

The thing is, I know it's just a rough patch of having too much to do (which, obviously, I'm not at all used to) in that November free time was committed to NaNoWriMo, mainly (which was totally worth it, actually) and now I've committed myself to making these bloody cushions that I started last year and bought all the stuff for, and then... Never finished. And I'm totally moaning about it but I'm going to feel GREAT when they're all done (and even better when people open them) but at the moment I'm resenting the CRAP out of them for taking my tiiiime away. Also other christmas things grr grr moan. All of this just smacks of first world problems, I realise, but at least I realise it right? And if I realise it I get to complain?

Basically, I just have too many hobbies and not enough time/energy to do them all. It's lame.

But anyway, since I have identified that I want to blog more/some, I'm going to commit more/some time to it. I mean, nothing like set out in some kind of horrid timetable or anything, but I'm going to make sure I do it because I think it's good for me, and I definitely feel more settled when I'm blogging things. I'm halfway through a review of Crime and Punishment (I don't even know how I properly feel about it, so that's going to be fun to read!) and I got kind of excited thinking about writing about Birdsong because I have a lot of issues with it, but also it was sort of ok, and ALSO I want to mock all the quotes on the back a bit? So these are the things you have to look forward to!

Just don't ask how The Blind Assassin readalong is going, because I haven't read any of it and Elf is on tonight. I have priorities, people.

So yes. These are my feelings and this is what I'm going to do about them. I'm glad we're all clear on that. This week I'm going to try and wrap some Christmas presents to get them under the tree and OUT OF MY FACE, and I have a work Christmas meal thing on Friday that should be fun. Tomorrow I have to get glared at at the Post Office because I have SO many cards to send to the US (and Canada. Sorry for the brackets, Canada.) and they will surely take all my money from me like they always do. Those bastards. But anyway. Christmas, Christmas, Christmas! (And blogging. Never forget the blogging.)

Top Ten Tuesday

I know, I know. It's been a while. And to be completely honest, I haven't even been keeping track of which list is coming next or anything, for I am lame. But, everyone's been getting their 'Dear Santa, please can I have this?' faces on, and frankly I can't let an opportunity like this just slide by. You must ALL know which books I want from Santa, and dammit, I'm going to tell you!

Top Ten Books I wouldn't exactly turn away from this Christmas

1. Les Miserables by Victor Hugo- It's worth noting that I ONLY want the Penguin Clothbound Classics edition of this, because SO pretty, but also Les Mis seems to be eeeeverywhere at the moment, and frankly, I want in! Also, soooooo pretty...

2. The Chronicles of Narmo by Caitlin Moran- Frankly, it's a little ridiculous that I haven't read the novel Caitlin wrote when she was like 15 because, you know, CAITLIN! This needs to be rectified, you know?

3. Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell- Clearly it's going to be awesome. Because, Attachments. I think that if no one gets this for me, it's probably going to be the first book I buy after Christmas. Because, Attachmentssssss...

4. Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed- Collected columns from Dear Sugar. I heart Strayed's writing SO much and to date I believe she is the only advice columnist to have made me cry. Like, ever.

5. Quiet: The power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking by Susan Cain- This book has been on my radar for a while now, and I'm definitely intrigued by it on account of my very introverted state and the ways in which this makes me powerful. So basically I want to read it because I'm a narcissist.

6. Tolstoy and the Purple Chair by Nina Sankovitch- Don't ask me why I want to read this SO much, but I really really do. Really. It's a whole thing I have, with the wanting to read it and all. Yeah.

7. The Filter Bubble: What the internet is hiding from you by Eli Pariser- I'm very very very interested in the whole idea of us creating our own little bubbles through the internet that means we effectively live in a world of our own creation where, if we don't want to, we don't have to hear any opinions that differ from ours. Which I think can be both a good and a bad thing, and frankly I want to read some stuff about it because I'm really interested in it.

8. Drood by Dan Simmons- Now. I'm convinced that there's no way that this book can be good, but since it seems to be a mystery narrated by WILKIE COLLINS and involving him and Charles Dickens, I'm also convinced that there's no way it can't be good. And I think the only way to find out is to read it. So this is totally what I'm going to do. Whenever someone buys it for me.

9. What Maisie Knew by Henry James- There exists in the world an updated movie version of this where Alexander Skarsgard plays what I hope can only be described as a pivotal and naked role. Either way, the story sounds like an interesting one, and I'd like to read the book before I see the film. Which you know I'm going to do.

10. As Always, Julia: The Letters of Julia Child and Avis de Soto- DAMN, I love books of letters. Even though it feels mildly intrusive, and even though I got the letters of Kerouac and Ginsberg last Christmas and have barely opened that book... I really want this. Because Julia Child seems awesome when Meryl Streep's playing her, so I have to assume that she really was!

So yeah. If I find any of these in my stocking this year, I'd be pretty thrilled. Just so you know, Santa *winks all around at everyone ever*

"Thick plots are my specialty. If you want a thinner kind, look elsewhere."

So there's this Advent with Atwood thing happening in the world of the blogs, and although I'm not really in the market for a lot of Atwood this December (I've got TWO challenge books left, and that's too close NOT to win) I am taking part in the readalong of The Blind Assassin readalong that's happening because I thought, if not now then when? Exactly.

I actually started reading this sometime last year, read the first mini-chapter, shrugged, and then took it back to the library when I'd had it so long that I had bought my own copy. This was a mistake (the not-reading it, not buying my own copy) for I've now read the first quarter and ohmygosh it's pretty awesome!

Yes. Yes I do. Wait, what were we talking about?

Already in this first section I'm completely glued to the book, and frankly, it would have to be good for me to want to read it when I feel as crappy as I do right now (that's pretty damn crappy, folks). And it's weird because, if someone tried to explain it to me I'd probably be like, 'that sounds weird' and move on, but actually, I'm very much into it, so far. 

Let me explain it to you, so you can go 'that sounds weird' and move on. So the book begins with the death of Laura, the sister of the narrator of some parts of the book, and also, since quite a bit of the book (I assume) is told in the past, she's shaping up to be a main character, so even though we start with her death, I'm guessing we're going to learn everything that's important about her retroactively.

Or, maybe, we're supposed to learn things about her through the book she's left behind (called, funnily enough, The Blind Assassin). Because, in this first chunk of book, there are 'extracts' from the novel that 'Laura' wrote, and it's so very interesting because, instead of taking these bits of story for what they actually are (a whole story) I find myself reading them to find more clues about what Laura was like, and who she was which, I assume, is the whole point.

Basically, so far, The Blind Assassin is hitting all my buttons- there's a mysterious and yet clearly awesome character called Laura, there are meditations of what it's like to be old that, genuinely, I can't get enough of, and there are layers of story like you wouldn't believe, mixed in with newspaper articles and old lady diary entries and kind of everything you could want from a book. And, you know, stuff like this:

"Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse. Solid flesh can never live up to the bright shadow cast by its absence. Time and distance blur the edges ; then suddenly the beloved has arrived and it's noon with its merciless light, and every spot and pore and wrinkle and bristle stands clear."

It feels like it's definitely too early to say 'Atwood, you've done it again', but that's really how I feel about the first bit of this book. I sort of kind of can't wait to read the rest. But I shall, for that is the readalong way.

Sunday Sundries...

... is suspended for this week, cause I've got about a billion things to do and I spent all of yesterday first Christmas shopping and then trying to sort out my family's mug hoarding issues. Not. Easy. So I'll be back next week to tell you shit that happened and stuff. 

Really, though, this is all you need to know about this week:

Biggest. Achievement. Ever. And now I'm pretty happy to go back to real life and sorting out the things I let slide in November, not least of which was this lil place. December will be better guys. Probably.

Devouring Books: Small Island by Andrea Levy

I have a lot of feelings about Small Island. Some of them are happy feelings, some of them are cross feelings, and not a few of them are slightly 'meh' feelings, which, I think in the end override all the other ones. But we'll get to that in due course, and there's a lot here that I can talk about (lucky you!) in spite of my overriding feelings of meh-ness about the novel. Which we'll get to in due time.

SO. Small Island is essentially the story of four people, two couples, and the ways in which their lives intersect in the period after World War Two, and what it meant for Jamaican people coming over at that time, and also what it was like before and during the war. In other words, it's about a lot of things, and I feel like it almost can't make up its mind about what it wants to be. It flicks between the past and the present, because apparently knowing everything about these characters' pasts is more important than creating a good narrative of what's going on in the present.

Or maybe I'm just being really grumpy about it.

Like I said, there were good things about it. I sort of disliked all of the characters in various ways except for Gilbert, a Jamaican man who is awesome and tries his best all the time, and really really really doesn't deserve to be treated the way he is for large portions of the novel. His wife doesn't really like him, the English don't really like him, the Americans definitely don't like him... It's all just bad. But it's also good in that while I know a fair bit about segregation and am really ready to tut at America for that shameful part of their history, this made me aware that hey! Racism existed in England too, and in a really upsetting way, in that Jamaicans were raised to understand that England was 'the Mother Country' who would accept them in her loving arms at any time, only to find that they weren't really wanted by their mother at all. It's pretty sad.

All of that was really interesting, then, and I appreciated the history lesson and I LOVED Gilbert but... All of the other characters? I wasn't so much into them. Hortense (Gilbert's wife) was SO frustrating and irritating at almost all points (except right at the end), Queenie was fine as long as she was being described to someone else, but when it came to her own narration I was less interested than I wanted to be, and also a little bored. And then Bernard was just super-frustrating and his chapters were basically all about war and then his penis, so... Yeah. The less said about that the better. Frankly, my favourite character was probably the shell-shocked Arthur (Bernard's dad) and that was maybe only because he didn't have any of his own chapters to piss me off in. Also because he's the SWEETEST.

And all of this would be fine, and I could have gone a long way on Gilbert and Arthur as the only wholly likeable characters (there are chapters where they hang out together, and I'm just like 'SQUEEE!') and been fairly happy with the book if it hadn't been for The Event. Which obviously I can't talk about because it happens pretty near the end and is meant to be SHOCKING. Now, it wasn't for me because Frances already told me about it when she read it, BUT I'm also not entirely convinced it would have been shocking if I hadn't known about it so much as it being completely WTF?-like. I'm going to start a whole new paragraph to explain, without details.

So. The Event comes almost completely out of nowhere, mainly due to it happening in the present where nothing is properly set up, but still. It's a kind of unnecessary shocker, and it almost feels like Levy just throws it in there to see what happens, rather than actually having thought it through. If it was the main thing her novel was balanced on, then... I'm very worried about the novel. Also, an aspect of The Event is something that ties Queenie and Hortense together inextricably, and yet it is never discovered. Which is really annoying, because that could have been a big thing, and through it I could think of an entirely different and probably funner ending, but actually that kind of fizzled out, and anything could have happened with it. It was very frustrating.

I almost don't want to let that ruin the whole book for me, because it definitely had its moments (I even giggled a few times! Which was nice) but... It sort of did ruin the book for me, along with its unlikeable characters, and, you know, the various war things. I will always love Arthur and Gilbert, but other than those two saving graces, I can't say tons more to recommend this novel. But... It won two awards, it has to be good right? Right.

Sunday Sundries: Giving Thanks is Not Just For Americans

Hey, so remember this week when the internet went CRAZY with thankful people and I just sat at work ALL DAY Thursday with a sore throat and probably a temperature and NO ONE brought me pie? Well, to counteract my misery at not having had a four day weekend, here are some things I'm thankful for this week* and always:

• Sleep: I have had some amazing sleeps this week. And one not so good one, but STILL. Amazing sleeps.
• Having a job: Seriously, so so so thankful. Even if it is only part time AND I bitch when I have to work full days. STILL SO THANKFUL.
• Mum not having no more treatments and stuff: Sometimes I'm sitting at work and I can't even believe how different my life is to just a few short months ago. And by different I mean better, and by better I mean 'good LORD, thank you for me not having to go to the hospital all the time.' ...Apart from this weekend.
• Life throwing me lemons but them being lung infections rather than heart attacks: Oh yes, my nan's in hospital again because she thought she was maybe having another heart attack but actually it seems like it's just (or, 'just') a lung infection. This doesn't really pass as good news for most people, but for me and my family? Yeah, it's a good one.
• Netflix: I re-signed up last week and now I don't know how I was ever without it. Two words: Modern. Family.
• Crafting like a BOSS: It's basically all I did yesterday. It was amazing. I kind of haven't made anything all year, so it's been really fun! *runs away from writing this to sew some stuff*
• Being able to bake stuff: I had the most uninspiring cupcake yesterday (it looked pretty but was kind of dry and 'meh'ish) but it at least made me pretty grateful that I can bake stuff that tastes awesome even if it doesn't always look so hot.
• Breaking Bad: It's basically the best thing ever, and I'm thankful that it exists. 
• Frances: She keeps me sane (ish...) via the internet, and ALSO sometimes I get to see her IN PERSON and that's just awesome. And she's awesome too.
• Family: Mine is kind of the best ever. I hope yours is too.
• LUSH: And I'm also thankful there's a whole big box of it in my living room right now. *sits and waits impatiently for Christmas*
• Hats: I really like them. Plus they keep my head warm.
• Blogging and you lot: Of course. Because y'all make it worth it, and in spite of all the places there are in the world, this remains one of my favourite places to come. So thank YOU most of all.

Aw, did you see how I got all sappy there? Every WORD of it is true. Have a lovely week kids, and keep on being thankful.

*note how I say 'this week'- this is so I don't have to tell you a boring story about shit that happened this week. Only I will. In list form. HA