Friday, July 29, 2011

The Man Who Was Thursday

"The most thrilling book I have ever read." This is one Kingsley Amis's endorsement of The Man Who Was Thursday. I'm sure it wasn't meant specifically as an endorsement at the time but those marketing b^$#@**$ will gobble anything and regurgitate it.

It worked though, because I bought the book. And read it too. And two days later, I'm not sure whether I enjoyed it or not. It definitely is not the most thrilling book I have ever read, although it is definitely one of the more bizarre. Reading the book so many years later, in light of the influence it has had on modern fiction, it's difficult not to find it staid and predictable. The story tells of a recently recruited but cunning detective who infiltrates a circle of anarchists, shortly before an assassination is due to take place. Hijinks ensue and the story devolves into a nightmare that ends in a bizarre rendering of the Last Supper. (No spoiler here, trust me.) There is some kind of moral here about anarchy and social order perpetuating each other, but quite honestly by this point I was too bored to thread it out.

It's not a bad book; it's just been done. That's not the fault of the book itself, only the fate of most revolutionary literature: to be outdone by their successors.

Having said this, the first paragraph is perfect - atmospheric, enticing, intriguing. I judge a book on three things: the first paragraph, the smell of the pages and the cover. Check it out on page 3 of Project Gutenberg and see what you think.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle


Ok, so I can't believe I'm about to endorse a book that appeared on Oprah, but they say that in an infinite universe everything that is possible will happen. This however will only happen once, no matter how infinite the universe and the odds.

I took The Story of Edgar Sawtelle with me when I went home to recover from a really difficult three months during which I lived alone in my office facing failure every day. Because what you do when you're recovering from your own deficiencies is read a 400-page book. Obviously.

It did help me to recover. Cathartically. By ripping a hole in my chest just above my heart and pouring in some kind of preservative acid. Which means basically that I'm walking, breathing, talking and eating, but that there's a part of me lost in that book and refusing to be unlost.

When a friend recommended this book to me, she described it as Hamlet with dogs. That's both the best and worst summary of The Story of Edgar Sawtelle ever. It is indeed a retelling of the tragedy and there are indeed dogs. But what you don't expect from this summary is that the story will have all the tragic power of Hamlet and that Ophelia's character is more tragic as a dog.

I'm not going to summarise the plot here, because if you've read or seen Hamlet you already know it and if you haven't you really should. And not the Sparknotes version.

Consensus is that Hamlet is a tragic hero, by virtue of being the protaganist of a tragedy and being both noble and sympathetic. Which leads us to his tragic flaw (both a condition and therefore of the label of 'tragic hero'). The heavy odds are on Hamlet's inability to act. But there is more to human psychology than this kind of clinical absolute. Everything we do is at best influenced and at worst determined by a myriad of motivations, few of which we consciously acknowledge. Your worst enemy is yourself and if you don't believe me, wait til the shadow part of yourself tries to kill you and then let's talk.

Author David Wroblewski gets this as much as Shakespeare does. He gives our tragic hero Edgar a disability that signifies his ancestor's inability to act - the boy is mute. A disability that suggests that Edgar is forced into inaction by the weight of his ancestor's reputation; stifled. Because he does try to act and is left with the guilt of something beyond his control. Or is he? Is his muteness in some way self-perpetuated? Some prophetic mark that ensures the prophecy will bear fruit.

This brings us to the argument of whether the tragic conclusion is the result of psychology or circumstance. Or both. Edgar is a child facing decisions that would bring an adult to their knees. Could he have acted differently? Could he have acted with better consequences? And here we stumble upon destiny.

I could go on for pages. The Story of Edgar Sawtelle walked me through my own sense of failure, is still walking me through it. I'm not coming out for a while, thank you very much. Now read the book.