Wednesday 29 June 2011

June 2011 Books

Lets start with non-fiction. Umberto Eco wrote a brilliant book when he wrote Kant and the Platypus. It's all about how do we know we are seeing the same thing. Do the words we use to describe it mean the same to each of us? And a lot else besides. It really is quite fascinating. Then there was  Ryan and Amy Hockney's 101 things you didn't know about Irish history. And they are absolutely correct in their title. How many English people really know anything about Ireland and it's incredible history? Xinran's China Witness is a collection of interviews with people who have lived in China since at least 1949 when it became a communist state under Chairman Mao. It really does show how different things were in China compared to the propaganda that we received. This book fits in with all her earlier books about China and the people who bear witness to its reality. And then I read E H Carr's Dostoevsky (1821 - 1881), an old (1931) biography of the writer which still has a lot to say both about the man and his writing. It was interesting to read a book that still regarded the Bolshevik revolution as something potentially positive! But Joseph Frank's 5-volume biography is still the last word in Dostoevsky matters. Cybill Sheperd and Aimee Lee Ball's autobiography Cybill Disobedience,  about her life on stage and in film was OK, but nothing to write home about. And then came my treat of the month, a book  I cannot praise highly enough. Anne Stewart O'Donnell's C S A Voysey.

CFA Voysey: Architect, Designer, Individualist
Anne Stewart O’Donnell

Pomegranate Communications Inc., San Francisco; 2011; v + 104
ISBN: 978-0-7649-5884-7

This is not so much a book as a work of art between boards. More than that, the gorgeous illustration of a clock case on the front cover seduces you into opening the book. And you are hooked!
            CFA Voysey was born in 1857. His father was an Anglican clergymen whose unorthodox views led to him being defrocked. Voysey’s grandfather – Anneiley – however, was an engineer-architect who built bridges, lighthouses and churches.
            When he left school he trained in the office of Pollard Seddon between 1874 and 1879 and worked as an assistant for a further year. Seddon had close links with the Pre-Raphaelites, William Morris and Burne-Jones. Voysey then spent a year working with George Devey who used his deep knowledge of the vernacular in his designs.
In 1881 Voysey set up his own practice in 1881 by which time he had established two key principles for his designs. The first was that there should be no features about a building that are not necessary for convenience, construction or propriety. The second was that all ornament should consist of the essential construction of the building. In 1885 he married Mary Maria Evens and designed a house for them to live in. Only he couldn’t afford to build it. Nevertheless, he published the plans in 1888. Shortly after, Michael Lakin, a cement manufacturer, asked him to modify the design to fit his requirements for small houses for his workers.
Designing 14 South Parade led Voysey to believe that the architect must abandon any attempt at a preconceived style and design. Each house should be designed afresh based on the client’s fundamental needs. Voysey rose in importance in the early 1890s partly through his vigorous use of the press where he published photographs and drawings of his work.
By 1897 The Studio described him as not only a dreamer but as a practical and experienced architect ‘who will give you first a sanitary, substantial and comfortable house and in doing so …. [will] manage to make it a really artistic building at the same time.’ He looked to the house as being ‘the most peaceful, restful, simple servant we possess.’ Within the house he wanted to banish all small ornaments and to design furniture that used simple decoration to enhance the appearance of the whole item. He also looked to nature for colour combinations. Nevertheless, he used many visual puns in his designs. In houses these could include unexpected features such as grotesque masks or wickedly cheerful demonic profiles.
His last house commission was in 1911. The fashion had changed to the Georgian Revival. At the outbreak of the First World War he had three houses in an early stage of design that were never built.
In 1909 he turned down the offer of the Directorship of the Decorative Art Department in the Glasgow School of Art. This did not come out of the blue because he had joined the Art Workers Guild in 1884. In turn this led to the foundation of the Arts and Crafts Exhibition Society. In turn, this movement developed into Art Nouveau.
From then on, things did not go well for Voysey. His father died in 1912. His marriage broke up in 1917 and by April 1918 he described himself as being ‘within measurable distance of the workhouse’. From then on he intermittently continued his design work for wallpapers and textiles. In the 1930s he designed some Alice in Wonderland wallpapers.
His prestige as architect and designer was, nevertheless, clear. In 1924 he was elected Head of the Art Workers Guild. In 1927 The Architect and Building News devoted a five-part series to his lifetime and accomplishments. Architecture Review sponsored an exhibition of his work in 1931. His last honour was the award of the prestigious Gold Medal by the RIBA in 1940.
The dense text of this book is most informative while still being eminently readable. Nearly all the illustrations have an extensive caption that expands on the main text.  (Wendy Hitchbrough published a longer and more detailed account of his life in CFA Voysey in 1997.)
It is the illustrations that make this book come alive. 65 of the 89 are of his work. They are presented at such a scale in such vivid colour that they tell the reader a great deal about Voysey’s designs. Nearly all of them are drawn from the RIBA Library. The beautiful studio portrait facing the first page of Chapter One sets the incredibly high standard of the book. I cannot recommend it highly enough.


Historical fiction I've read this month includes J M Coetzee's The Master of Petersburg. It's the story of how Dosteovsky came to St Petersburg to deal with his stepson's affairs after the latter had committed suicide. He lives with his son's landlady and her daughter and beds the landlady. Once things have been settled, he leaves. You feel as though Coetzee is sort of exploring aspects of Dosteovsky's Crime and Punishment. I really enjoyed Gretchen Craig's Crimson Sky, historical fiction set in the late 16th century in Texas. It's a novel about contact between the Spanish and the native tribes and shows very clearly how each side not only viewed the other but also how they treated each other.

Crimson Sky
Gretchen Craig

G Craig, pub. 2010; iv + 247
ASIN: B00475AUEK

The novel is set in an adobe pueblo village in Texas during the 1590s. The village is placed on top of a mesa with its fields down below. The men are away hunting for meat to store for the winter. The Querechos, a tribe who do not farm, raid the village in the dead of the night. No one is hurt, but all the stored food is stolen. And Mitsa, a woman, is taken. One of the sentries – ShoHona – is found just alive, but scalped.
            Zia, the wife of one of the absent hunters, sees a fire belonging to the raiders in the distance. She and other women and some of the older boys creep up on them. The men are taking turns to rape Mitsa. Zia manages to give her a drug to supply the men with. At dawn all the men are killed, Mitsa rescued and the stolen food recovered.
            On return to the village they discover a troop of Spanish soldiers demanding supplies aggressively. Fortunately their captain, Diego, arrives and calls them off when Zia says they have no stores because of drought.
           
Meanwhile TapanAshke, Zia’s husband, kills an elk but is attacked by strangers and then falls down a short cliff. Injured, he makes his way back to the hunting campo to discover that all but six of the group have been killed and all the meat stolen. He is rescued by hunters from Acoma, a neighbouring village,. In time his wounds heal and he can go home.
            At his home village the hunters return without some of their number. Zia believes that TapanAshke has been killed and is badly affected by her grief. ShoHona slowly recovers from being scalped and helps the boys in the village make bows aand arrows and how to shoot them He also teaches them hunting. But he starts to have absence spells which Zia and Mitsa worry about.

In Acoma, TapanAshka is still not quite strong enough to walk all the way home. He constantly thinks about Zia. Then thee Spaniards arrived. Following the village’s refusal to supply 200 men, there was a skirmish. The Spanish captain was so angered by the way the villagers threw the dead Spanish soldiers over a cliff that he ordered all surviving men to be kept as slaves for 220 years. He made examples of some of them, including TapanAshka, by chopping off one of their feet. The whole village, including the maimed, is marched off. TapanAshka and the village medicine woman manage to escape and she more or less heals his stump.
Back home, Zia’s brother-in-law Soshue, has been paying her unwanted attentions. He accuses her of witchcraft but she successfully defends herself. He is executed.

Later in the year the village suffers severely from a food shortage. They reluctantly decide to go to the Spanish mission at Oke in the hope of help. Diego Ortiz, the Spanish captain who had earlier helped them, meets them and helps them reach the mission. He takes Zia, her baby son TyoPe and her grandmother to live in his house. The rest of the village is given an area to live in away from the village. Zia’s sister HaNa spurns her for living with the Spaniard.
            Diego insists on Zia going to church and converting to Christianity. They don’t make love for a long time. And then, after he has been away for several days, they do make love.
            Measles strikes the villagers camp and kills many of them. Zia and TyoPe also catch it, but survive thanks to a special medicine her grandmother makes.

            Meanwhile TapanAshka has managed to get back to the village. He is surprised to find it empty and showing signs of a planned departure. He sustains himself and then stores supplies in a secret cave in case of trouble.
            Zia, talking to the people in the village, learns how brutally the people of Acoma were treated by her Diego. The next time he is away, she and TyoPe together with her sister HaNa and ShoHona escape. They find a cave near their home village to live in and hide from the Spaniards. Diego and two soldiers as well as his hunting dogs appear.
            To find out how the story ends most satisfactorily you will need to read this book. It is easy to nread and well-written. I enjoyed it and think you will.

And then I read three good novels: Philip Kerr's If the dead rise not, Rose Tremain's excellent Sacred Country and MaryLu Tyndall's Surrender the Heart. Lorelei James's Slow Ride simply made me angry because it is so obviously a means of raising extra cash from faithful followers.

Slow Ride
Lorelei James

Samhain Publishing Ltd, Macon, USA; Nov 2010
ISBN: 978-1-60928-301-8

For the life of me I cannot see the point of this novella. It forms part of a series of novels and should either have been at the end of the preceding novel or set at the beginning of the next. If this is being sold as a self-contained work, I can only see this as a cynical money-making move by the publisher. If I’m wrong, I’ll be the first to apologise.
            The story follows on from the marriage of Jack Donoghue and Keely, his former fiancĂ©e. During the Reception she desperately tries to get him to make love to her. But he refuses. She continues to have sex with him on the way to the airport, on the plane during their flight to their honeymoon location. He insists that they can only make love to each other once they have arrived at their destination. In the end they melt into each other’s love-fevered bodies on the beach in front of their villa in Tahiti.
            This very short work is well-written and easily read. As I said before, I can’t see why it isn’t included in the novels either side of this scene.

M H Stromm's Arousing Love, aimed at the teen market, will annoy some people (like me) by the Christian propaganda in the second half when the 16-year-old heroine is heavily controlled by her father at an age when she should have been given some leeway.

Arousing Love
M H Strom

Marstro Press, USA; Nov 28, 2009; 246 pp
ISBN: 978-0615323305
              
This is a love story between Zacch, who is 18, and Joanna, who is almost 16. Zacch is the local boy who likes nothing better than surfing and painting but has to serve in his parents’ store every day it is open. He is, though, pretty free to do what he wants and has a shack at the back of his parent’s house. Joanna and her parents are on a fortnight’s holiday from Colorado and are staying in the camp site near the beach.
            Zacch and Joanna fall deeply in love and start to kiss, cuddle and explore one another’s bodies as teenagers do. But Joanna’s Christian conscience steps in before they go too far. Nevertheless, she allows Zacch to paint a nude portrait of her lying on his bed. He also paints a self-portrait for her to remember him by. Even though they have rather taken to Zacch, her parents start to rein them in, controlling what they do and how far they go from the camp site. It is really her mother who mis worried about Joanna becoming pregnant.
            The second week of Joanna’s holiday is spent with them having to stay in sight of her parents most of the time except for one occasion when they bare allowed to go out for a meal and a movie. Otherwise they have to stay as a family.
            The back of the novel then breaks. It becomes a Christian diatribe with a bit of a story interwoven. Inside a week Zacch is converted to intense religious belief and Joanna baptises him in the sea. The pair want to get married as soon as they can, hey have fallen so deeply in love with each other. Her parents, however, don’t even want to talk about this. In fact, they rather hope everything will die down after they return to Colorado.
            In the end Zaacch and Joanna’s father have a heart-to-heart conversation. They agree that if Zacch can find a way to come and live in Colorado, then her father, using Old Testament precedent, will formally betroth her to him and not allow her to see any other man for a year. At the end of that time, when she is 17, they can marry.
            Zacch applies to art colleges in Colorado but gets turned down by them all. However, the best college has a scholarship programme and are so impressed with him and his work that he wins one for the four years of the course. On the day of the interview, when he gets the news, he is in Colorado. He goes to Joanna’s house to tell her and her family the good news. It is also her birthday. Her father formally betroths them for a year. The condition attached to the betrothal is that there must be no sexual contact of any kind. Kissing and cuddling only are allowed.
            The more I read of the second half of this novel, the angrier I became. Writers are told again and again that the golden rule of successful writing is to ‘show not tell’. The second half of this novel tells the reader how to run their life. It is a piece of what can only be described as Purity Movement Propaganda. Not only are abortion and gay marriage justified as totally wrong and immoral using quotes from Old Testament sources from a society at least 2,500 years old. (And societies that old are not our normal moral models.) In any case, in a free society, both topics are surely matters for individual consciences. Joanna’s father has taken complete control of her life. He dictates what and when she can do things, almost as though she is his slave. And surely at her age it is time that parents should start to withdraw control and be prepared to act as safety nets catching and comforting teenagers when things go wrong.
            I breathed a sigh of relief for the couple when Joanna moved into Zacch’s apartment on the day before her 17th birthday and their wedding. I felt as though her life as an independent person could finally begin within the intense love she and Zacch had for each other.

Susana Fortes's Waiting for Robert Capa is an absorbing, fictionalised account of his and Gerda Taro's life as photographers in Paris and during the Spanish Civil War up to her death.


Waiting for Robert Capa
Susana Forbes
Translated by Adriana V Lopez

Harper Collins, 2011; iv + 188
ISBN: 978-0-06-200038-5

The spur this novel was the discovery of an archive of 4,500 photographic negatives of the Spanish Civil War (1936 – 1939) taken by Robert Capa, Gerda Taro and David Seymour (Chim) in Mexico in 2008.
            The novel starts in early Nazi Germany. Gerta Pohorylte, a Jewess with a Polish passport, is interviewed by the SA who want to know where her brothers Oscar and Karl are. She doesn’t tell them that they are making their way to the Swiss border, hoping to cross it to safety. Nor does she tell them that her boyfriend, Georg, is in Italy. She is released after a fortnight, possibly due to the efforts of the Polish Consul who is one of her father’s good friends. She immediately fled to Paris where she shared an apartment with an old friend called Ruth.  Shortly after arriving she hears through the Refugee Help Centre that her brothers have safely arrived in Switzerland.
            She and Ruth both have jobs but, one evening they meet a Hungarian photographer called Andre Friedman and his friend Chim. They start going round as a group, with both Andre and him taking photos wherever they are. The two men begin to get commissions irregularly. Gerta decides to become Andre’s manager and makes him dress elegantly. In return he taught her how to use a Leica camera and to develop film. It was while she was learning to use the camera that she realised that it could be used as a political weapon. She began to keep a diary because she was afraid she would forget who she was and where she came from.
            All four of them begin to get involved in the leftist militants in Paris. They are concerned with the way Hitler is remilitarising the Rhineland and at Mussolini’s invasion of Ethiopia. While Andre is in Spain on a newspaper commission Gerta types our the manifesto of an international writers group. Shortly afterwards their apartment is attacked and ‘Filthy Jews’ scrawled on the walls.  She, Chim and Ruth repair the flat. Chim arranges for Fred Stein, a German refugee and another photographer, to stay in the spare room.
            While Andre was in Spain he interviewed a Basque boxer, witnessed a protest against the fourth anniversary of the Republican proclamation and then visited Seville during Santa Semana, photographing the Holy Week processions.
Until Andre returned from Spain, Gerta had not realised how much she loved him. The whole group went on holiday to Cannes. Gerta and Andre separated from the others and spent their time on a small island getting to know each other better. Back in Paris, Andre gave her much more intense training in photography and in a short time she became an accredited journalist like him and Chim. There simply wasn’t enough work. They decided to change their names and nationalities. He became Robert Capa, a rich, famous and talented photographer. She became Gerda Taro, also an American photographer.
As soon as news came through of the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War, a group of journalists chartered a flight to Barcelona. They were particularly interested in  the Republican army made up of huge numbers of ordinary men and women, volunteers from Spain and all over the world.
Capa wanted to be nearest the fighting and so he and Gerda moved to Cordoba. At a deserted village Capa joined a dug-in position on a hill. There he took his most famous photograph of all: a militiaman at the moment he was shot. It was published around the world. Gerda joined forward moving troops. Later in the war, when she was in Valencia she was able to photograph refugees streaming north from Andalucia. Because the hospital was overwhelmed with wounded, she put down her camera and began to prepare bandages. Capa arrived with the flood of refugees.
            Travelling back to Madrid they came across Paul Robeson entertaining Republican troops in the open. Capa asked her to marry him, but she wouldn’t answer. Once in Madrid they went to the main office of the Alliance of Anti-Fascist Intellectuals. There were serious problems with provisions and distributing rations. They often used to stay up late listening to poets and music in cafes and streets. Sometimes until dawn.
When Guernica was bombed, Capa went to Bilbao armed with a small movie camera. He filmed the evacuation of children onto ships off Bilbao. Joining Gerda they filmed and photographed the unsuccessful Republican Segovia offensive.
Gerda was desperate to photograph a Republican victory. In June 1937 there was a huge battle for Madrid. She constantly in the open getting her pictures. At one point a plane was diving on their position and all she could think of was catching the dust trails of bullets. She knew she had to get out of there if she as to remain alive. She and a friend, Ted Allan, were on their way back to safety when a tank drove over her. Even though she survived to be operated on in the hospital at El Escorial in Madrid, she died. In her mind she sees Capa found Magnum Photos and his death in Hanoi.
This is an extremely well written novel that leads the reader along several interlinked trails. It makes you want to go to a reference library to hunt out biographies and catalogues of the lives and photographs of Robert Capa, Gerda Taro and David Seymour. And also to find out more about the Spanish Civil War.
oly Week proH

Now for the murder-mysteries. I really enjoyed all three of them: Sheri Leigh's Graveyard Games, David W Huffstetler's amazing attack on capital punishment in Dead in Utah. And, lastly, Sharon Potts's In their blood.


Dead in Utah
David W Huffstetler

Typescript; N.D.; 271 pp

If you believe that execution is the just punishment for murder, then this novel might sew a few doubts in your mind. It explores how prejudice and nepotism can come together to result in the execution by firing squad of an innocent man.
            The facts are these: John Morrison and his two sons are closing up their store late one night in 1911. The younger son is in the back room and sees what happens in the shop. Two masked men burst in and shoot the two older Morrisons, but not before the older son has loosed off one shot at them.
            Merlin, the younger son, can only say that there were two men, one taller than the other. Because they were wearing kerchief masks, he could not identify them. When the police arrive, they see a blood trail down the side of the store. They make much of it, but fail to follow it properly. It later turns out that it leads to a dog with a wounded paw.
            A woman living opposite saw two men leaving the store after the shooting, one taller than the other. She cannot identify them because they were wearing masks. Another woman, near the town’s theatre, was pushed off the pavement by two men in a hurry. She assumes it was the killers.
            Dr McHugh, later in the evening, treats a man (Joe Hill or Hillstrom)  for a bullet wound that went right through his body. He also notes that Joe had a gun. Joe says he was wounded in an argument over a woman. Dr Bird drops by to see Dr McHugh. He, too, sees the gun. He gives Joe a lift to Murray where his lodging is.
            It turns out that Joe and his brother left Sweden for the USA after their mother died. They changed their names once they landed in New York; and then parted. Joe became involved in the union movement and rose within it to become a strike organiser for the IWW. Unions were not at all popular among the owners and moneyed classes at that time. Nor did the people with power like them. This applied from local to national level.
            To cut a long story short, Joe attends a preliminary hearing and then the trial itself, both under the same judge who knows many of the jurors as well as the police. The end result is that Joe is found guilty of murder and sentenced to be executed, by firing squad at his choice. He applies through his attorneys for a re-trial to the same judge but this is denied. He appeals to the State Supreme Court using two very good attorneys. They point out that all the evidence against Joe is circumstantial and that there is nothing whatsoever that puts him at the scene of the murder. They are all aware that prejudice against union men has been a major factor in his conviction, which is confirmed. They apply to the Pardon Board. Again the same judge is a member of the tribunal. Yet again, his conviction is confirmed. Throughout this whole process, there has been an international protest against his conviction. The local people say it is orchestrated by the unions and so should be ignored.
            Eventually, Joe gives up hope and submits to his fate eight years after the original crime.  All along Joe has not named the woman who the fight was over because he says it would cause her embarrassment. This is his only alibi.
            This story left me seething at a legal system that could condemn a man to death on such flimsy evidence. And I remembered how, even now, quite a large number of people on  Death Row in the USA, are found to be innocent when the evidence is properly investigated.

 
In their blood
Sharon Potts

Oceanview Publishing, 2010; 386pp
ISBN: 978-19335156265

This novel begins with a bang when Rachel and Daniel Stroeb are shot dead in their bed on the evening of their return from a flight to Europe. Their 16-year-old daughter Elise comes home shortly afterwards and finds them dead. Her brother Jeremy who has been wandering in Europe for much of the last year, arrives back in time for the wake. And is greeted by considerable animosity by his Uncle Dwight who tells him he is Elise’s guardian according to their father’s will. Dwight and his wife are making plans about moving into their luxurious house and putting on airs and graces. They also challenge every decision Jeremy or Elise make. 
Their grandfather reveals that Dwight is only the back-up guardian if Jeremy is unable to act. So Jeremy and Elise are free of them. She returns to school a bit at a time. Jeremy decides that he wants to complete his degree studies at the local university where their father was a professor. In order to fund his studies he is employed by the prominent accountancy firm where his mother had worked for years, rising to a very senior position.
At the university he finds his father’s assistant, Marina, sorting out his papers. He helps her and, predictably, they have an affair which means that he leaves Elise alone for too long, much to Dwight’s malicious delight. He can find out nothing about any enemies his father might have had at University. Eventually he ends the affair with Marina when he learns that she had had one with his father before him. She turns out to be a good friend to him in the end. And he begins to spend much more time with Elise. Dwight had taken him to court saying he was an incompetent guardian, but he and Marina had found some information about Dwight which discounted him as a guardian.
At the accountancy firm, the partner he is working for sets him the demeaning task of cataloguing old paper files kept on stacks of shelves and cabinets in a large store room. They are to be destroyed once he has done it. In the process he discovers some files where his mother had carried out detailed audits. One, in particular, belonged to a company owned by Enrique Castillo, where she noted considerable discrepancies. And a huge luxury hotel complex on a Caribbean Island is prominent in her doubts. Since Castillo is a well-known and very wealthy local businessman and Elise is going out with his son Carlos, Jeremy decides to read the files. Meanwhile he has tried to access his mother’s files on the firm’s computer, but finds nothing. All files wiped clean. He makes friends with another assistant in the firm, a girl called Robbie. She works with him in extracting information from the paper files, even though on one occasion a heavy cabinet falls on her. Jeremy is certain it has been deliberately weighted to fall when the drawers were opened. They know someone is watching them.
Elise and Carlos spend a happy afternoon watching DVDs on his father’s yacht in the bay. And they uncover, by accident, a series of accounting files which bear no relation to what Jeremy and Robbie have seen in the paper files. They are certain Enrique Castillo is up to no good. The problem is how and where?
Eventually they decide that they need to visit the island where the hotel is situated. Eighteen years previously it had been destroyed by a hurricane, but there is no clear evidence for rebuilding. But the income from the island keeps on increasing and is now the major source of Castillo’s wealth.
Robbie is still recovering from her injuries, so Jeremy goes home to prepare to fly out to the island. He gets home to find Marina dead in his father’s old car. Fortunately the killer failed to inspect her pockets. There Jeremy finds a note she was going to leave for him before going home to Chile to look after her grandmother. It turns out that his mother had an affair with Enrique Castillo when he was first building the hotel.
Everything comes to a brilliant climax on the island where all the baddies die, two business empires collapse as a result and Jeremy emerges the hero. He also gets Robbie.
This is a compelling read. The story is well-written. New questions keep on cropping up when you least expect them. Until the very end.

           
And lastly, poetry. This month, only Walt Whitman's Drum Taps.

Saturday 4 June 2011

May 2011 Books

The first of the non-fiction books that I read this month was H V Morton's In Search of England. I know this is an ancient text, but it set the model for several later series of books culminating in Pevsner's magisterial Buildings of England series. Morton drove round the country in a sort of haphazard way and remarked on his accommodation, the villages he passed through and the people he met. It's a most entertaining book that definitely does take you back to the fairly early days of motoring in England. I followed this up with Anne Somerset's Elizabeth I which takes the reader on a pretty thorough journey through the politics and some of the culture of her reign. Not as easy a read as David Starkey, but interesting, nevertheless. And then came Colin Thubron's incredible To a mountain in Tibet.



To a mountain in Tibet
Colin Thubron

Harper Collins, 2010 (GB); 2011 (USA); viii + 171
ISBN: 978-0-06-176826-2

This is an extraordinary piece of travel writing. It does what you expect – telling you the route followed, the sights on the way and a description of most night’s accommodation. At the same time it is almost a continuous prayer. The focus of the journey is Mount Kailas in  Tibet, near which four of the great rivers of India rise – Indus, Ganges, Sutley and Brahmaputra. Hindus venerate the mountain as the paradise of the god Siva. Buddhists venerate it as the centre of the cosmos. It is so holy a place that no-one has sullied it by putting a foot on it for at least two – if not three – millennia. The pagan gods of the forerunner to the Bon religion possessed the mountain before Buddha. Kailas is also seen as a ladder between light and darkness – its foundations are in hell. It is a site of redemptive power. In all this time, people have walked round the mountain in the belief that a single circuit expunged the sins of a life-time. Thubron decided to do the journey on account of the deaths of both his parents and his sister who died aged 21.
            The journey through the Himalayas takes him through some extraordinary scenery and into extraordinary places. At Tuling he and his guides stay with a widow who lives with eight other members of her family in a three-roomed house. The family is so poor that there is no furniture. Nevertheless, she shares what little coarse rice she has with them. They leave behind some lentils, spinach and biscuits. The adults have had no education at all, but the five children do go to school. Near the house is a white-plastered turret, a family shrine, perforated with little holes for offerings. Thubron guesses it’s probably to Masto, an ancient shamanic god or group of gods. The family gather at the shrine two or three times a year.
            The journey started in Nepal and followed a traditional route through the Himalayas up to Tibet. This route, Tibet’s link with the outside world, goes back into prehistory. As they climbed the valleys Thubron thought of Tibet floating in its own time. ‘A land forbidden to intruders not by human agency but by some mystical interdiction.’ The influence of Tibetan Buddhism slowly became apparent through the appearance of cairns decorated with prayer flags. At various points along the way he passed short walls of loose stones. Closer inspection revealed that each stone was carved with a prayer. The passer-by has to circle the wall clockwise to activate all the prayers on them. These walls have been built over generations.
            Before they reached the Tibetan border they encountered a monastery founded twenty-five years ago. There are several reincarnated spirits among the 150 monks and novices. They can’t get into Tibet to journey to Mount Kailas. The Abbot asks Thubron to honour the journey he himself cannot make. Before they part he tells Thubron that the poisons at the world’s heart are anger, ignorance and desire.
            At a village built on a precipitous slope, there are two temples, one male and the other female. The villagers assemble there two or three times a year to pray for good fortune. They also have an exposure platform for sky burials. At the 15,000 foot high Nava Pass, the last barrier into Tibet, he feels as though he is about to enter a sanctuary. Other travellers – even Tibetans – all feel this. The summit of the pass has a cairn of stones crowned by a tangle of prayer flags.
            Once across the Nepal/Tibet border,  they join other groups and board a Landcruiser with a Tibetan leader. They are now in Chinese controlled territory. During the Chinese Cultural Revolution everything old was disposed of. As a result Tibet’s 6,000 monasteries and temples were reduced to 113 by 1976. The numbers have slowly crept up since then.
            Below the 16,000 foot Thallabong Pass they see a country of planetary strangeness. There is a huge lake, still, that curves out of sight. Beyond it, as though floating, is the cone of Mount Kailas. This is, he says, holy land. The lake – Manasarovar – is sacred to 20% of human kind. It is also the highest lake of its size – 200 square miles – on earth. It is so sacred that no boat may sail on it nor may anyone fish in its waters. In the past, people couldn’t even hunt nearby. Hindu scriptures say the lake was created by the mind of God. It was regarded as the nursery of the gods in the second century AD. By the 6th century AD it had become a full-blown paradise. Buddha’s mother is also said to have bathed in its waters before receiving Buddha into her womb. The lake’s waters are drunk by the dying to usher the soul to paradise and its sands, inserted into a corpse’s mouth, prevent rebirth as an animal. On  the lake’s shore there are upright stones etched with prayers.
            There used to be eight small monasteries round the lake (six have since been restored) symbolising the spokes of the Buddhist Wheel of Life. Pilgrims circling the lake turned the wheel towards salvation. Sometime in the second millennium BC Shiva was enthroned on Kailas. Tiers of gods and spirits ascended the mountain. Later they were adopted by Tibetan Buddhism.

At the start of the circuit round Mount Kailas is a huge wall of prayer (mani) stones and whitewashed stupas. Sky burial round Kailas was instituted in the 12th century AD. The body is dissected and the limbs amputated. The bones are ground to dust, mixed with yak butter and roasted barley before being rolled into balls to feed he vultures. The skull is smashed and mixed with the brain before being put on the platform.
            Thubron comments ‘I have the notion that Tibetans, by repeated holy circuits – of mountains, monasteries, temples – are unconsciously reclaiming their sacred land.’ [I assume he means from the Chinese.]
            Tibetans call the mountain Kang Rinpoche (the Precious one of Snow) rather than Sanscrit’s Kailas. While one complete circuit will dispel the sins of a lifetime – even murder – 108 such circuits raise the pilgrim to Buddhahood. Most pilgrims simply walk and pray. Some, though, advance through prostration. They walk three paces, fall prostrate with their arms stretched ahead; they rise, walk three paces and then prostrate themselves again. Buddhist and Hindu pilgrims progress round Kailas clockwise. Surviving Bon (pre-Buddhist) worshippers advance anti-clockwise. The Bon are from the first royal cradle of Tibetan culture (the Kingdom of Shang-shung) min which the priests were the early kings.
            Almost every rock has a named spirit or deity associated with it, so holy is the mountain. All but the East face are precipitous, which partly explains why Kailas has never been climbed. Pilgrims walking on holy ground and breathing holy air, look ‘unquenchably happy’. At a plateau once used for sky burial, pilgrims leave personal objects. Some even practice their own death by lying on the ground beside the cemetery.
            As the circuit rises to 18,000 feet, Thubron began to imagine a person walking in front of him. At 18,600 feet, the zenith of the circuit, there is a blaze of prayer flags. It is the custom to leave something here and to take something else away. Thubron leaves flags and lights a bundle of incense.
            From here there is a deep, steep descent to a valley and the end of the circuit which is where the book leaves us. This is a short but intensely spiritual book that everyone reading will find something in it for themselves. Buy it, read it, and persuade others to buy their own. Never lend it out. You won‘t get it back.
           
 Most of the fiction I have read this month has been pretty light. But then I think I deserve it, given the weight of the non-fiction I've consumed. Ginger Mayerson's Doctor Hackenbush gets a job is a thorough-going entertaining read.


Dr Hackenbush gets a job
Ginger Mayerson

The Wapshott Press, March 2010, 152pp
ISBN: 978-0-9825813-0-8

The heroine of this novel was christened Mabel but, by the time she was a teenager, had decided to call herself Dr Hackenbush. It is as a jazz singer playing the baritone ukulele that we meet her and her band at the beginning of the story. A fight breaks out and the venue where they regularly play is smashed beyond recognition. As a consequence it has go close for repairs and so Hackenbush and the band lose the regular money they get from playing there. Shortly afterwards, her car breaks down and needs expensive repairs. She has no money and so can neither buy a new baritone ukulele or get her car repaired. So there she is, an unemployed pedestrian.
            Through an agency she finds work as a temp in a lawyer’s office. The senior partners are typical male chauvinist pigs. However, the girls in the office look after each other. There are any number of entertaining adventures in the middle section of the novel describing her entrapment in the office. During her stay there her father dies and she visits his house and relatives there.
            Towards the end of her time in the office a bar offers her a chance to sing. Her office colleagues hear her and arrange for the office senior to hear her. It turns out that Paula was herself a famous jazz singer in the city when she performed under a different name when she as younger. Hearing Hackenbush makes her realise what she’s been missing all these years. She resigns and takes up singing again. Then Hackenbush’s aunt buys her a brand new baritone ukulele and the money she has saved up while working as a temp allows her to get her car repaired. She prepares to get the old band back together so they can perform again. She and Paula, her senior in the office, agree to divide the city between hem, so they get equal shares of the money for jazz singers.
            This is a good, well-written  story with  satisfying end.  It’s a pity its not longer. Will Dr Hackenbush make any further appearances in the literary world? I do hope so.

I have read two excellent historical novels this month. One was Susannah Gregory's A bone of contention which required the forensic logic of Matthew Bartholomew, the late 14th century Oxford scholar and physician to solve a murder (or two). The other was CJ Sansom's Revelation in which Matthew Shardlake solved a series of murders linked to a text in the book of the Revelation of St John. Fortunately, Henry VIII was obsessed with persuading Catherine Parr to get into his bed at the time. This novel also describes in some detail conditions in Bedlam at the time and common treatments of the inmates. A modern murder-mystery set in Kansas kept me guessing right to the last pages. It's Charlotte Hinger's Lethal Lineage.


Lethal Lineage
 (A Lottie Albright Mystery)
Charlotte Hinger

Poisoned Pen Press, March 2011; xii + 302
ISBN: 9781590588376

The focus of this novel is a plot of forty acres of land which a small Evangelical community has bought and the church they have built there. The first ever service is to be conducted by their regular priest, Mary Farnworth. To make the service memorable, a teenage girl is to be confirmed by Bishop Talesbury (rather than the proper diocesan Bishop Rice). Talesbury preaches a hellfire and brimstone sermon rather than one appropriate to the occasion, which rather shocks his congregation.  During communion, Mary Farnworth drops the chalice and spills the wine. She scurries off to the vestry. After the service she is found dead. There are no signs of forced entry or violence. Later, forensic examination establishes that she died from the poison of the South American Poison Dart Frog.
            Lottie Albright, Deputy Sheriff, and her twin sister Josie were present during the service. They call in the sheriff. Later the same day coroner says he can find no information about her next-of-kin. Lottie and Josie let themselves into Mary’s office using her keys. Mary has been a social worker for 19 years and, even though they can find huge amounts of social worker papers, they can find nothing relating to Mary at all. While there, Sheriff Irwin Deal of an adjacent county bursts in and, using pretty violent language and behaviour, he arrests them. Josie uses her Blackberry to video his behaviour. They use their obligatory phone call from the jail to contact their sheriff and Lottie’s husband. Josie manages to download her video onto YouTube. Next morning the magistrate frees them immediately and reprimands Sheriff Deal severely. Josie’s husband serves Deal with a write charging him with, among other things, wrongful arrest.
            Lottie and her sheriff search Mary’s home and again find nothing about her personal life or about next-of-kin. In fact, all they find out about is her social work. There isn’t even anything about her work as a priest. Nor are there any educational certificates. Lottie contacts her Bishop Rice only to discover that his office knows nothing about either Mary or Bishop Talesbury.
            Lottie spends some time each week at the local library collecting peoples’ memories of the area. Chip Ferguson a fairly old, single cowboy has spent his life chasing money and is now probably the wealthiest man in the area.  Then Edna Mavey, an old woman, calls in. Over a number of sessions both at the library and using a tape records at home, she tells her story. Her first husband, who lived in Iowa, was a mean man who was cruel to his animals, her and their two children, a boy and girl.  She did what she could to protect them. At one point she takes the children to her sister’s house and stays there for a while. Her husband tempts her back. Almost immediately he has her committed to a lunatic asylum where she stays for three and a half years. Her sister and the children write to her from time to time. In the end she manages to walk out of the hospital and catch a bus to Kansas where she starts a new life for herself. She tells her sister to tell the children that she has died but to carry on letting her know what they are doing by letter. She leans that her son died in Vietnam and that her daughter went off the rails and lost contact with her sister. Meanwhile, she has bigamously married a Kansas man and had a son with him. Neither son nor long-dead husband know anything about the first family.
            Meanwhile, Lottie has received threatening letters and phone calls. Her husband’s crops are ploughed up and one of his cows is killed cruelly. Her sister and husband are helping the local people get an election to deprive Sheriff Deal of his post. And they are successful. He is also heavily fined for wrongfully arresting the pair of them.
            Then Sheriff Deal and Bishop Talesbury are seen at the church. It turns out that Bishop Talesbury has a valid deed of ownership to the land, and, hence, their church. Chip Ferguson unsuccessfully tries to buy the land from Talesbury. Shortly after, he is found dead in his car, having been killed by a dart tipped with poison from an African poison dart frog.
            Edna, becoming increasingly frail, has a stroke and has to be put in a nursing home. Before she goes she tells Lottie that Mary Farnsworth was her long lost daughter.
            The climax of the story comes when ex-sheriff Deal holes out in the church and threatens to kill Lottie’s husband. She and her sister arrive, she tries to shoot Deal but misses. Then Bishop Talesbury creeps in at the back and, using a blowpipe and curare tipped arrow, darts Deal.
            If you think this is the end, you are in for a big surprise! There is an amazing conclusion to this fast-paced well-written novel. I look forward to reading more Lottie Albright Mysteries.
           
 Only one sci-fi novel this month. It's a most entertaining story that has plenty of violence and a hero with two penises. Maree Anderson's From the Ashes will keep you reading to the last page.

From the ashes
Maree Anderson

Red Sage Publishing, Seminole, USA; 2010; iii + 175
ISBN: 9781603105736

There is nothing more satisfying than reading a love story in which boy meets girl, they fall in love, are parted by adverse circumstances, fight to get back together and, in the end do, indeed, get back together in the closing pages. This is just such a novel. And, for sci-fi fans, it is set in some far distant future when our lovers travel between currently unoccupied planets.
            Calista inherits a cargo spaceship from her father and carries whatever cargo she can under contract. She loads a large crate, heavily sealed with Imperial seals (Why does there always have to be an Empire?) and takes off for her target planet. Before doing so, she has scanned the crate and established that it is not what it claims to be on the manifest. So she opens it up and finds a large egg at the centre. While she watches, it hatches and a small bipedal creature emerges. Within minutes it has grown to adult size. Her size. It looks a bit like a man with two penises.
            After a while she realises she is receiving messages telepathically transmitted from Asher, the creature’s name. It tells her that he is a member of the Phoenicae. Like a duckling he has imprinted himself on her and is her slave forever, which is the characteristic of Phoenicae. In no time at all, Asher has learned that Calista wonders what making love to him would be like. And, of course, she learns shortly afterwards.
           
Calista and Asher are in the cockpit when they are hailed by a passing trader which is captained by her ex-husband, Nate. Whatever they call themselves in  the novel, we would recognise Nate and his evil crew as a bunch of space pirates. Nate tries to soft soap her and take possession of her cargo. She has good reason for not trusting him, as the last time they met she stripped the skin off one half of his face and removed one of his eyes. So we know she is not entirely defenceless. While Nate and his crew try to board her ship, Asher is in the cargo hold. Calista straps herself in and hits the button to escape at incredible speed. Once clear of danger, she goes back to the cargo hold to find Asher very badly injured from being thrown about and dying. He tells her to set light to him and to scrape his ashes together afterwards. He is reborn, more closely imprinted on Calista than ever.
            They decide to visit a planet where they are certain they can get an egg about the same size as the original that was loaded in the crate. There are some strange and particularly dangerous, roving defence mechanisms. Nevertheless, they find and retrieve an egg and start loading it on the space ship. But then Nate and his crew board Calista’s ship and capture both them and the egg.
            Nate threatens to torture Calista and gets one of his crew to torture Asher.  He sells her to the son of the Imperial Governor of a planet. And Asher to the governor’s wife. The son, Leighton, is sadistic to the point of occasionally killing his partners.  Nate drugged Calista in order to deliver her. When she wakes she is shackled hand and foot to a table with Leighton in the room beside her. She excites him by telling him how and what she did to Nate’s face. When they learn that Nate is on his way to check on  his delivery and collect his money,  Calista escapes from the table and she and Leighton tie Nate to it. Leighton then delights in doing to Nate what Calista did before, with addition measures of his own.
She and Leighton attend a party thrown by his father. The height of the evening is to be Asher. Any member of the audience can do what they like with or to him, providing they leave him alive. His execution will be the climax of the entertainment. Perfect for Leighton.  From a privileged position in the audience, sitting with the sadist son, Calista is able to communicate with Asher. They plan a surprising escape.
On their way out from the planet they arrange a mass escape of hundreds of slaves kept in inhuman conditions in foul compounds.
            And the rest, the satisfying rest, you can guess at for yourselves. This is a well-written, fast-moving love story set in space.
           

And finally two excellent collections of poetry. Seamus Heaney's Human Chains  is enthralling in a way most people don't think poetry can be. it holds you captivated from the first poem to the last. And last, but not least, Robin Robertson's The Wrecking Light is excellent.


The Wrecking Light
Robin Robertson

Picador, London; 2010 (UK); 2011 (USA); 112 pp
ISBN: 978-0330515481

This is a fascinating collection of poems and translations. From start to finish it held my attention. In fact, I could not put it down until I reached the Notes at the end. And then I wished it were twice as long.  The collection begins with Album, a poem about looking through albums of family photos, and about how the narrator sees himself as a ghost within them. A very strange idea, that, a living ghost. Or are the other figures in the album dead? And so placing him apart from them, as we normally view ghosts – representations of the dead to the living.  Only this reverses that perception.
            Signs on a white field is about how the sun’s heat begins to melt ice on the surface of a lake. The poem starts by describing the surface of the lake as containing some unevennesses, about how

            ….a sudden frost
            has caught some turbulence in the water
            and made it solid; frozen in its distress
            to a scar, or a skin-graft

As the sun works its warming work the poet hears the lake ‘talking to itself.’

            And then it comes.
            The detonating crack, like a dropped plank,
            as if the whole lake has snapped in two
            and the world will follow.
            But all that happens
            is a huge release of sound in a boom
            that rolls under the ice for miles.

By Clachan Bridge is a weird poem about a girl who has a cleft lip or palate. She used to cut fish up by the bridge to see how they worked inside.

            by morning’s end, her nails
            were black red, her hands
            all sequined silver.

She dissected all sorts of animals. You wonder whether she is addicted to the cutting up or exploring the variations in anatomy. Later, she claimed that she had sex with the blacksmith’s son. Her belly grew for a year, and she said she had a stone baby.

            And how I said her wrists
            bangled with scars
            and those hands flittering
            at her throat,
            to the plectrum of bone
            she’d hung there.

The Plague Year starts with what I can only describe as the annual cycle of the birth and rebirth of plants, trees, etc.

                        I am dying
            so slowly you’d hardly notice. What is there left
            to trust but this green world and its god,
            always returning to life?

And then the poem moves onto explore the nature of inner city pollution.

            My past stretches from here to there, and back,
            leaving me somewhere in the middle
            of Shepherd’s Bush Green with the winos of ’78.
            A great year; I remember it well. Hints of petrol,
            urine, plane trees; a finish so long you could
            sleep out under it. Same face, different names.

            Everything is different. Everything is the same.

About time explores the idea of feeling oneself aging while watching life events occur (parents’ death; break up of marriage; children suddenly adults). The result is

            The skin loosening
            from my legs and arms
            and this heart going
            like there’s no tomorrow.

Fall from Grace, on the other hand, is about shame. He describes his life replacing

            Love and trust with nothing, no
            light shining back at me, just shame
            ….
            My life a mix of dull disgraces
            and watery acclaim, my daughters know
            I cannot look into their clean faces;
            what shines back at me is shame.

In another poem, the smell of cologne is used to mask the smell of a dead mouse and reminds the person in Going to Ground of thee one used to mask the smell of a friend in hospital with AIDS whose toes and fingers had started to rot and go brown.
            In A Gift a woman comes to the poet ‘in a dress of true love …. made of flowers’; Her hair was similarly garlanded.

            And she was holding out
            A philtre of water lovage,
            red chamomile and ladies’ seal
            in a cup, for me to drink.

Imagine being in a hotel or B & B. A naked woman leaves your room. In Venery he sees

            The whole scut
            of her bottom
            disappearing
            down the half-flight
            carpet stair
            to the bathroom.

If you want to find out about horrible ways to die, Law of the Island offers one. A man is lashed to a timber and thrown into the sea so that he will float head up.

            Over his mouth and eyes
            they tied two live mackerel
            with twine, and pushed him
            out from the rocks.

They waited

                For a gannet
            to read that flex of silver
            from a hundred feet up,
            close its wings
            and plummet-dive.

And then comes Kalighat which describes the sacrificial beheading of a goat.

            The blood
            comes out of his neck
            in little gulps.

Robertson returns to the idea that everything, even love, is born and dies in a beautiful poem called Lesson. Ambush is about the immense patience of a fox waiting for the moment when a lake’s surface will freeze over and trap duck’s feet in the ice so they can’t escape.
            Death strikes again in Grave Goods. The poem starts with ambitions.

            He wanted to outlive the grim husbandry
            of battle order, outrun
            the breath of the damned
            …..
            to reach a place
            of peace and honour,
            fresh running water,
            a morning of porcelain and lavender
            combed by light, folded and smoothed over.

He came instead to a closed silence.


            Robertson goes on to describe a grave containing the artefacts of hunting and fishing, a red ochre covered woman seated with a child on her lap, a man wearing a crown of antlers and, between the two, ‘a young child laid down/ into the wing of a swan.’
            In 1075AD Adam of Bremen witnessed The great mid-winter sacrifice, Uppsala. He saw a tall tree ‘thick with gifts’. It was ‘decked simply with the dead’. There were nine animals

                        and nine
            that aren’t animals but hang there just the same,
            black-faced, bletted, barely
            recognizable as men.

And blood soaked the ground under the tree.

During dinner is about how Hawthorn should never be brought into the house because it brings death and bad luck with it.

            It was Christ’s crown and the faeries’ bed,
             I said to my hostess …..

            But ‘Ladies Meat’ is another name
            because it smells of sex and it smells of death.
            …..
            For years I was only able to smell one and
            now I can only smell the other!
            and so she left the table.


Widow’s Walk is about isolation and loneliness.

            Trying to escape myself,
            but there’s always
            someone
            wanting to sew my shadow back.
           
            I felt like going in,
            there and then,
like a widow
            toppling forward at the grave,
            going in after myself.

In Hammersmith Winter he remembers as a boy watching snow fall outside.

            But you’re not there, now, to lead me back
            to bed. None of you are.  Look at the snow,
            I said, to whoever might be near. I’m cold
            Would you hold me. Hold me. Let me go.

This is a collection of poems that needs, calls out for, reading and reading again. It’s no good borrowing it. Buy your own.