We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler

We are all completely beside ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler is a brilliant depiction of both science and humanity, or rather the contradictions between what we can analyse and what is simply just being.

The story follows the Cooke family: one mother one father, one brother and two sisters. It is narrated by the youngest sister, Rosemary, with its primary focus being on her sister Fern who is, in fact, a chimpanzee. While the novel, like my review, does not immediately reveal that Fern is an ape, it is impossible to review the story, as it is impossible to tell it, without eventually revealing this fact. It is the reluctance, and conversely the need to share this aspect that strikes at the very core of the novel.

Fern is at once a sister, a family member, a loved one -Same and yet also non human, other, an outsider -NotSame. For Rosemary, despite Fern being an ape, there was no other that understood her or that she understood with such certainty as she did Fern.

Fowler expertly combines aspects of the scientific and of case studies - experiments with the grad students, endless notes and theories, with childhood memories and family dynamics inductive of any so-called normal American family. It is with expert skill that she paints Fern as simultaneously subject and family member. It is this paradox that forms the conflict of the novel, and of Rosemary's life in general. While social norms and public opinion portray chimps as simply animals -wild and unpredictable - there is a sense, for the Cookes, that Fern is a vital part of their family dynamic. Truly one of them in so many indefinable ways.

A heartfelt and moving tale, Fowler opens the readers eyes to new possibilities, highlighting interspecies connection without shying away from the devastation, heartbreak, cruelty and confusion that come with bringing a wild animal into a home. Touching on various aspects of behavioural theory - of both apes and humans alike - Fowler challenges our understanding of psychology and behaviour, rights and privileges.

A stunning and emotional novel, We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves is a beautiful take of man's need to know, to understand and our ultimate inability to do so.

Hey, Nostradamus

Hey Nostradamus! by Douglas Coupland

Cheryl is the epitome of teenage piety, her purity running deep and steadfast with a stubbornness indicative of any 17 year old. Jason is everything his father isn't. Impulsive, worldly and antisocial he forges his own way blindly and wholeheartedly, trusting in the love and bond he shares with his girlfriend Cheryl.

This story is about them, and wholly not about them. It is at once a coming of age tale and a commentary on society at large. Focusing on relationships - and especially the familial kind - Hey, Nostradamus explores the complexities of the connections forged through necessity and life experiences. The difference between families we are born into and cannot fully escape, and those we seek out to spend our lives with. It is about innocence, and guilt. Avoidance and acceptance, and above all the overriding presence of Something Else. Of God, of spirituality, or simply of the contemplation of such ideas.

Coupland, as always, has an art for weaving religious or spiritual tones throughout his work in an accessible and unchallenging way. He manages to make the reader question thoughts of morality, sin, innocence and human behaviour without bogging down the narrative. Despite heavy subject matter, -destruction, catastrophe and violence are, as is common for Coupland - evident early on in the novel, the text remains a quick and easy read as it deals with dark subject matter in a frank and instinctively human way. This honesty allows the reader to be honest about their own emotions and beliefs, forming a bond between text and reader without enforcing ideologies onto him or her. It is the honesty and the boldness, never sugar coating events or feelings, that makes Coupland such a wonderful author to read. His tales however outside your realm of circumstance become feasible or relatable in the very reactions characters have to them: ones that by little stretch of the imagination could have been yours.

Furthermore the style of the novel is such that we are part of each narrators mind - starting with Cheryl who speaks so calmly and retrospectively - who draws the reader in with compassion and intrigue alike.

A wonderful balance between family relations, the darkness of a world under siege and the guilts of growing up and accepting or rejecting your parents teaching, "Hey, Nostradamus" is a truly excellent read and a great marker of famous Coupland style.

When God Was a Rabbit

When God was a Rabbit by Sarah Winman
This book had been one I was hoping to read for years. I'd seen it on book shelves and displays in book stores repeatedly with the vague notion that I would buy it and read it one day. How can the title not intrigue you? pull you in? It did for me, and was a a 'to-read' book that was always at the back of my mind. When i spotted it in my favourite used bookstore Barter Books in Northumberland, it was as though the book gods at bestowed it on me. Hadn't I been meaning to read that all along? And so first began When God Was A Rabbit.

Unfortunately, it was not what I had expected. To be completely frank, I'm not sure WHAT I had expected, but it seemed to me it was if not a different tale, than one with a different voice or tone to it. But, never mind. The main character - a young girl named Elly - was still interesting, and her connection to her brother still paramount. Jenny Penny, Elly's childhood best friend, became both the interest, the heart and the comedy through those early chapters.

But as the novel progressed, it seemed to crumble. Experiences became displaced and as a result, uninteresting. It was difficult to stay attached to a narrative that jumped forward in time without explanation, so that characters became older without an real sense of age or time passing. There were moves geographically both winton England and the US so that by the end I was unsure which country Elly called home. Characters entered, left and reappeared such a fleeting way as to make them trivial or forgettable - I regret to admit sometimes I had a hard time remembering which fringe character was which - and the narrative further complicated this by referring for long periods to a character as "He" or "She" at the beginnings of chapters, therefore making it nearly impossible to know which character was being spoken about aside from through guesswork and inference. It was extremely frustrating as very little detail was given through which such inferences could have been made.

Sexually was often poking up in the novel in such a way that it should have been a theme, really, but it's sporadic and again, random occurrences prevented it from holding any sort of true stock in the novel. This could have been a real grounding factor as her brother's homosexuality and in turn his relation to childhood friend Charlie formed a key connection between characters and in many way created a thread throughout the novel, but the thread lacked substance and connectivity. Similarly, Nancy, Elly's Aunt, was a pillar of confidence and again, homosexuality. She was bold, free and loveable to all characters in the novel and in turn, she loved others - most interestingly, Elly often noticed that Nancy appeared to be in love with Elly's own mother (and Nancy's sister in law).

Relations, sex and love were constantly in question throughout When God was A Rabbit, but ultimately for me, it was this lack of connectivity - between the scenes of the novel themselves and in turn between the novel and the reader, that prevented both a clear theme and any interest in the characters and their lives on my part.

It is a shame, really, because there were glimmers of something I wanted to know in the novel - the pet rabbit who was named God (which after all inspired the very titled of the novel) was a wonderful narrative concept. The juxtaposition of childhood innocence in a pet rabbit and the grandeur of naming him God was beautiful in and of itself. Furthermore God appears to speak to Elly in such a way that only she can hear, which begs questions of spirituality and wisdom that spark a reader's imagination. Unfortunately, this character was not touched on enough or for long enough, in my opinion.

Similarly, Jenny Penny is a wonderfully interesting character full of reckless abandon and joy in the face of what is clearly a difficult childhood. She is lost to the novel and reappears in time like so many other themes and characters in this narrative. For once, though, I feel that story projection fitting. Her disappearance marks growing up, her return a chance to evaluate past and present. the problem, then, was that this storyline did not become the central one of the novel. to me, it was the tale which I could best hold on to - the one i found to be the most interesting, and my biggest complaint was that I did not get enough of it. Jenny Penny and her relationship with Elly became bogged down and tangled in daily chores and random sexual encounters that simply seemed irrelevant to me as a reader. I cared little for Elly and the rambling way she saw life, but her relationship with Jenny Penny - that was where the heart of the novel truly lay, and that was where I feel more of the focus should have been.

I fear that in my review I have done much the same thing I complained about in the novel - jumped around and rambled on in a non-linear and therefore confusing way, but I shall make my final statement thus: the novel lacked focus, and as such, heart. If it were to be stripped down, the fluff removed, and strong clear intention found, there could have been a great story of growing up and losing innocence, but this heartfelt theme got tangled in irrelevancies and therefore became rather irrelevant for me as a reader.
A disappointment, really, I'm sorry to say.

The Girl Who Saved the King of Sweden

The Girl Who Saved the King of Sweden by Jonas Jonasson
Jonas Jonasson's second novel, The Girl Who Saved the King of Sweden, is, like its forerunner, a vastly entertaining - and uniquely humourous - (miss)representation of the various adventures and mishaps that shape the face of history. Expertly intertwining main character Nombeko's modest South African roots with the lofty and politically charged goings on of kings, prime ministers, and presidents, Jonasson forms a tale both wildly unbelievable and perfectly natural.

There is something to Jonasson's humour that allows for catastrophe after catastrophe with ease and interest, rather than turning the tale into a frustrating sequence of implausibility. Hapless and exceptionally idiotic Holger One and Celestine form the perfect unintentional adversaries to thoroughly brilliant Nombeko and Holger Two. And with a political agenda passed from a mentally unstable father to unwitting sons, the novel has all the ingredients characteristic of Jonnason's winding tales. The narrative plays on a mixture of perfect accidents, terrible bad luck, and outstanding circumstances in order to tell - simultaneously - the personal stories of his unique characters, and the overarching national and worldwide politics. Of course there is also the matter of an atomic bomb.

Like his first novel, Jonasson's second maintains the stylings and humour indicative of his writing, and spins an uncanny trail of destruction into the perfect obscure tale of adventure, all the while providing characters you love, those you love to hate, and the Jonasson staple: the bumbling yet endearing fools.

Under the Hawthorn Tree

Under the Hawthorn Tree by Ai Mi
Under the Hawthorn Tree, by Ai Mi, started off with promise. A young Chinese girl named Jingqui, naive but smart, is sent off into the villages to document life in order to write more accurate history textbooks. Set in China in the 1970's the book is heavily rooted in the cultural revolution. Interest is peaked. A tale is told of a hawthorn tree with flowers dyed red from the blood of soldiers. The backdrop is set with an old folktale of a maiden torn between two loves. I wasn't 100% which way the story would go, but I expected some sort of excitement, really.

The downfall of Under the Hawthorn tree, though, was that it really wasn't all that gripping. Little happens in terms of drama and plot, and though there are moments of great family loyalty, and the love interest, Old Third, is introduced, things move far too slowly for too long to really keep the reader interested. Furthermore, the naive Jingqiu is neither sweetly innocent, nor undergoes a  knowledge revelation, as would warrant character development. Instead, she continually misinterprets signs and things people tell her. This becomes frustrating as she neither seeks to clarify, nor do other characters pick up on her extreme ignorance. While naivety is not a bad quality for a main character, it became increasingly frustrating in this instance as very simple misunderstandings lead to unrealistic conclusions. The novel itself plays on this by seeming to present information in a cryptic way, making the reader assume one thing when the opposite may be true. This tact could class as mystery, but rather comes across as a frustrating repetition of drawn out scenes and little-explained feelings. Is she being coy, or simply unaware of other's affections? Does Old Third lie to her?

What promised itself to be a Romeo and Juliet style romance, fraught with uncertainties and trials, became instead a tale about the mundane life of a young Chinese girl. Though appearances were made by Old Third, and there were glimpses of a budding romance, it came too little too late and Jingqiu's walls came down too unexpectedly for me to invest myself in the romance as much as I would have liked. Jingqiu simply wasn't someone I could connect with. Though her connection with Old Third eventually becomes a sweet one, and there are certainly moments of grand romance, the plodding nature of the novel throughout took away from these moments, and dulled the shine that could have been a sweet young love. The redeeming character was Old Third himself, resolute and kind, but as the story did not focus on him and rather Jingqui, there were certainly narrative lulls.

While the setting, China during the cultural revolution, was both interesting and less common, it provided both interest and problem to those less familiar with the time. Having studied modern Chinese History, there were elements that struck me, but the oddities present in this time did provide some-what of a struggle in terms of ease of reading. There were moments that wording and phrases seemed out of place for the anti-liberal society, though this may be due to translation.

Overall, the story provides a good account of life in China in the 1970's, and the struggles a young girl has to face in the upside down social structure facing the cultural revolution, but in terms of great romantic stories, I found the novel to have only scratched the surface of what could have been a very moving, deep story of love.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time is a wonderfully insightful and heartfelt book. True and unabashed, it provides a real and honest tale of struggle and victory for main character Christopher. Christopher, a 15 year old precocious young boy with autism narrates the tale with wit and wisdom. He sees the world in a way far different from most, which sheds light on many of the things often overlooked by the general public. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time is not only a great commentary on life with autism, but a heart warming tale of the love and failures of family. Christopher is both exceptionally bright, and extremely solitary. He does not ever liked to be touched, a trait which manages to get him in to trouble with the police, and he tends to interact with others in a very matter-of-fact, purpose driven way. He tells the reader that it can be very difficult to understand facial expressions and metaphor, but alternatively, he has one of the most impressive mathematical brains out there. This unique combination of traits makes Christopher an exceptionally interesting narrator, and he informs the audience in a very factual and insightful way. He questions things in a way which many of us would not, and sees the world in a much more black and white fashion. Because of this, we learn, his home life is not always easy.

Enter Christopher's father, loving and currently the soul provider and carer. Christopher's father shows an unconditional love for his son, and a deep understanding of the way Christopher's mind works. Despite this, though, he can become frustrated with Christopher's need to investigate and unravel the mystery of who killed the neighbour's dog. It is this investigation which pushes Christopher to question neighbours, poke around for evidence, and generally get up to things that his father thinks he ought not to.

As Christopher begins to uncover bits of information about the dead dog, secrets previously hidden are brought to light concerning his family, and his community. As the new information starts to build up, Christopher pieces together an even greater mystery than that of the dog which sends him on a journey of self discovery. This journey tests him far more than anything he has encountered as he fights against the daunting world around him, faces trials, and begins to overcome set backs he previously thought impossible to face.

A tale of bravery and love, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time highlights the importance of seeing the world through someone else's eyes, the troubles and rifts this causes, and ultimately, the love which can overcome any such differences. A true triumph, Mark Haddon tells a tale very rarely heard.

After Dark

After Dark by Haruki Murakami
I should have known, I suppose, the strangeness that is a Murakami novel. Questioning and prompting, After Dark invades our sense of normalcy and of the conscious and unconscious worlds in an odd and uncertain way.

The novel takes place over the course of a few hours in the dead of night, in Tokyo. We follow Mari as she wanders the streets, frequents diners and generally runs into various night characters. Her meetings, which take her to love hotels, make her witness to crimes and have her encounter old acquaintances, meander in and out of normalcy, painting a patched portrait of Tokyo night life. Spliced with Mari's encounters are narrative snippets relating to her sister, Eri, a mere figure - silent and unmoving - bound in a perpetual sleep.

After Dark is not a passive novel. By no means a light read, it denies you the luxury of an east narrative, demanding patience and thought. The novel begins to explore connections between siblings and human beings in a general sense, while touching on aspects of life, death and consciousness, all in a seemingly detached manner. A style unlike any other I have read, Murakami writes without weight, drifting in and out of subject matter, often dark material, without ever putting down roots. It is easy, then, to feel disconnected from the story, and rather uninterested in the characters themselves, as the lack of connectivity can feel cold. While questions arise from the pages about connectivity and existence, it is as though as an after thought, a mere vague wonder, which lacks any sense of urgency or importance. This is, however, a hallmark of Murakami's style in that he does not aid the reader or allow them easy access to his work. His stories, instead, require time, the slow reading of poetry where words are ingested and then digested. It is only through active reading that the deeper sensations of After Dark begin to show through.

Because of this, After Dark is often polarizing, sometimes hailed as a masterful display of genius writing, or else dismissed as a cold hard story about one bland character and her sleeping sister. For me, I fall somewhere in between. I can recognize the careful work that is After Dark, and yet despite knowing the assumed intentions, I could not grab hold of a strong enough -anything- to really connect with the novel. Such is the effect of Murakami, it seems. Brilliant perhaps, but therefore isolating.