Crying Over

Spilt Milk, By Lana Citron is an all together confusing thing of a novel. Citron writes in a style that is at once intriguing and infuriating. Stream of consciousness like, and rambling, there is a uniqueness and authenticity there that I want to like, but the fact of the matter is, the styling is just poorly done.
The first fault that I had with the novel, aside from the style, was that of character. It's lacking. The novel is written both in the perspective of Murrey, the character who is first introduced, and switches often to that of Manfredi, the second main. This in itself is not a problem AS a style, but failed again, in the execution. For quite a while I as the reader was unsure whether Murrey Pouge was a male or female character, which meant that I had no description of Murrey's character - whether physical or otherwise which might clue me in. Manfredi, however, was obviously male, and had red hair. Eventually I realized that Murrey was indeed female, but the switching of perspectives coupled with the vague style of writing and lack of character definition left me feeling lost and confused. Which "she" was Manfredi referring to? Was Murrey describing her romantic relation with a girl this time, and a male next time? I couldn't keep track.

By the time I finally got a grip on who was who, and a vague feeling of what was going on, I was nearly half way through the novel and had already considered giving up on it more than once. But, being persistent I ploughed ahead.

I did, eventually, begin to invest somewhat in Murrey's semi-tragic (though not all together explained) existence and her relationship with Manfredi - it was not until the two come together that the narrative styling becomes much more coherent - but the feelings were short lived. Just when I felt some - albeit shallow - connection to the two, they were wrenched apart with no explanation, the narrative returning to its cryptic "shes" & "hes" and the reader was thrust roughly back to where they began.

The ending of the novel, just as ambiguous as the start, was not disappointing in its plot so much as the delivery. Queue typical scene of estranged daughter coming home, mother dropping whatever glass object is in hand (in this case, the all the more cheesy bottle of milk) and a return to a previous childhood state of living. Then bring on the exaggerated perfection of a taxi down the lane, a turning of the head just in time - so cinematic it's sickening - but no, the author is acknowledging the cheese factor with a tossed aside "but no, that isn't how it happened at all". Finally, some self humour and clarity, come too late, and too jarringly different from the style of the rest of the novel.

The one thing I would give this novel is its drive to stay connected to realistic rather than romantic paintings of love - the theme which it claims on its very cover - but even then, the intertwining stories (which we, in the end, come to see as merely half truths) still strive for a romantic nature that harkens back to age old loves. And realistic interpretations - while imperfect - do not have to be anti-love stories, and made up lies, but rather simple ins and outs of life.

A confused, jarring, disconnected novel, I have to say i was mad enough to yell at it on several occasions, and ultimately slam it across the table upon its completion. Spilt Milk does not come highly recommended.

Jane & Charlotte

Despite having graduated with an honours BA in English, being an avid reader, having read "the Eyre Affair" and taking Women's Lit, I still had never fully read Charlotte Bronte's iconic Jane Eyre. I know.. I know..
I was assigned it in my Women's Literature class several years ago (in which we read only books by female authors, so the Bronte's were bound to come up) but I never finished the novel. After a few disappointments over other such novels as Austen's "Mansfield Park" which I could not finish do to mounting school work and sheer boredom, I was not exactly pumped for Jane Eyre. To be honest, I was weary. And when I turned that first page and began reading about a pretentious rich family in the way-back years with a little unloved precocious child of five dotting the pages with mild interest, I must say my worries increased. Then hit me up with a sentimentalist style fainting & phantom scene in the red room and my doubts seemed all but confirmed.

So it is no surprise, then, that Jane Eyre was set aside and the vacuum of school work that somehow makes most assigned readings that much more difficult to complete swallowed Jane whole. But I knew I had to give her a second chance. It was JANE EYRE for goodness sake. If only to be able to properly call myself a book lover, English graduate and/or writer, I had to finish it. And of course, having read the Eyre Affair without properly completing the original, was pretty bogus.

So this September, I gave it another try. Spurred by the need for new reading, something to fill the giant whole that was school, and my imminent trip to England, Jane Eyre seemed the perfect fit. Again I went through the sentimental styling of the first 40 pages without much heart, but a bit more faith, and, coming out the other side into the fifties and onward, the story picked up, added character, and began to grow within Jane.

Jane Eyre, of course, is a classic. And yes, it is and 'old classic' meaning the style of writing the diction, the wordiness, is still all present, but in the simplest of terms: Jane Eyre is actually one of the classics you would LIKE reading. It is not just 'good' because it is solid writing etc, it is enjoyable.

Despite the setting and the (sometimes rambling) diction that can occasionally get cumbersome, Jane is a timeless character. Regardless of setting or story, I believe it is Jane herself that transcends the ages. Readers can identify with her, or at least some aspect of her. She is straight forward and unafraid to speak her mind, in most cases, making her both a modern and interesting character. She is pure and sweet, but intelligent and determined, so that despite her meek lifestyle or simple tales, there is a passion and fire within her that does not allow her to be trodden upon or downcast long. It is the balance of sturdy levelheadedness and passion where passion is due that makes Jane such a full and rich character.

Being written in a first person narrative, that is, Jane's, the reader gets a full picture of our main character, and in this novel's case, that is extremely key. It is a story which centres around character not only in plot but in emotion, relevancy, and style. Without a character as strong as Jane the novel would indeed be flat, a pattern which I find often in books of a similar period. The novel centres around character development and flushes out each aspect of her nature in detail, something which I personally found novels like "Mansfield Park" lacked. Because the settings are so far removed from our present day scenarios, a strong sense of character is imperative to give the reader something to hold on to, to attach their hearts to so that they might think and feel for Jane. Without this connection, we as readers no longer care what happens to the characters and therefore lose interest in the story itself.

Jane Eyre, though it can be long and occasionally tedious, holds that connection throughout the novel so that despite the rather simple plot, we care for Jane, and thus must strive to keep reading. Though the story may include death, betrayal, lies, love, fires, proposals, estranged family members and large inheritance, it is not a plot-driven novel. Entirely wrapped up in the character of Jane, and to an extent the secondary character of Rochester, the novel finds a relate-ability which transcends time and circumstance in order to connect with the reader and pull them in.

at last a classic with feeling - true feeling - not the sentimentalist Pamela-esque sense of feeling. Jane Eyre is a classic I would actually recommend for enjoyment, not just study.

Noruwei no Mori

Norwegian Wood is a story about love, sex, relationships, and the complexities which define and effect the interactions of the human species. A novel centered around loss and pain, Haruki Murakami paints a picture of late 1960's Tokyo fraught with confusion, emotion, and the breaking down of the human mind. Norwegian Wood is in many ways a beautiful tale of tragedy and confusion. The style and cadence of Murakami's writing, and specifically his dialogue hold a distinctive, snappy honesty rarely found. The chracters are flawed, real, and therefore that much easier for the reader to invest in as we follow them along these winding roads of instability and small victories. The bluntness with which chracters unfold topics and events of their lives is refreshing, though occasionally jarring.

Written originally in 1987, and dealing with the 60's there was a sense of era about the novel that really seemed to capture the spirit of the times - which though enjoyable for the atmosphere of it, occasionally left me feeling I was a bit young to fully appreciate all the underlying currents of the time period in which the novel was set. [myself having been born in 1988] Never-the-less the feel of the novel was an authentic and wonderfully mystical one, permiated by a love of music, free spirits and soft revolutions which coloured the novel and its tragedies with all the more clarity.

A complex novel which attempts to unravel the logistics of the soul, sanity and love and death, Murakami questions convention and loyalties as the main character, Toru Watanabe stumbles his way from adolescents into full-blown accountable adulthood.

Toru is a resolutely optomistic character that finds himself hopelessly in love with his deceased best friend's girlfriend Naoko. Despite her sweetness and beauty, Naoko remains emotionally unavailable as she constantly attempts to unravel the sickness within her own mind - a reoccuring theme that is never directly explained nor defined, as mental strangeness and 'brokeness' becomes a concept of relativity which continually infiltrates chracters and relationships as the story unfolds.

In stark contrast to the quaint Naoko is Midori - the spunky, outspoken, short-skirt wearing character from Watanabe's classes. Midori adds a sense of uncertainty, adventure and bluntness to Watanabe's life previously missing, and he and Midori become odd but close friends. As Watanabe manueveres his way through university, he continually finds himself re-evaluating and analyzing not only his relationships, but the way in which he interacts with those closest to him.

Because of this constant evaluation of relationships, the novel is completely interwoven with explicit interactions of sex and erotic encounters. Though this certainly adds merit to Watanabe's inner dilemas - namely, the fine lines between love, sex, romantic relationships and friendships - the explicit nature was certanly more than my person taste appreciated, and is something to keep in mind and be advised of for readers.

Despite these less than appealing scenes, the novel is a well written stylistic tale of the downfalls in human nature, and the inexplicable connections humans form with one another.

Never Let Me Go

The acclaimed novel Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro is a wonderful balance of ignorance and knowledge: "The problem, as I see it, is that you've been told and not told. You've been told, but none of you really understand, and I dare say, some people are quite happy to leave it that way." Kathy, the novel's main character and narrator recalls being told this in her childhood years at Hailsham boarding school - this qoute sums up the way in which Kathy interacts with the reader for the majority of the novel: from the on set, the narator [kathy] makes it clear that she is a 'carer' but it is left to the reader to piece together bits of information - just as the students did at Hailsham - in order to get a grasp on what a 'carer' in the novel's context, even is.

The novel outlines the coming of age, and subsequent years of Kathy, Ruth and Tommy within the greater context of a rare boarding school in east Sussex. Though the reader is not told a great deal about the school or the students outright, as the novel progresses through the first few chapters, it is clear that these are not ordinary students, and the Guardians do not treat them in the way you might expect. It's hard to pinpoint exactly when you realize that the youths are not so much students as they are walking donations to be used commodity-style. Once this concept is grasped, it is a quick jump to full realization that the students are in fact copies of 'original' citizens used as 'donors' for their vital organs. The reader is eventually told this outright, but it is with a sense that you already expected what was coming - somehow, you knew it was coming. "All children have to be deceived if they are to grow up without trauma." This is the same way the students interact in Hailsham, piecing together concepts and understandings without fully knowing the full picture. The effect of such subtle revelation is one of intimacy with the characters and leans towards a greater connectivity with the would-be unrelatable environment of the novel.

Though the clone/donor concept is certainly not an original one, Never Let Me Go certainly does not seem overdone, nor repetative. The style and manner in which it is written - and more specifically the careful subtle ways the three main characters maneuver through a world frought with inevitability, truly draws the reader in and puts a touching spin on an idea that might otherwise be considered "sci-fi'. Instead the novel is expressly drama, coming of age, and sentimental, exploring the complexities of knowledge and innocence, through revelation and careful curiousity. In this manner Ishiguro explores what it means to serve a societal purpose, what it is to really live, and the human soul (and what evidences might be used to prove such a thing exists).

"We all complete. Maybe none of us really understand what we've lived through, or feel we've had enough time."

What is to Become of Us?

The latest from Douglas Coupland, PlayerOne: What is to Become of Us? is yet another reason to praise the snappy, poignant unique style that has come to identify the author. His short sentenced, internal-monologue type narratives lend themselves too quick reads that rely not on the events of the plot, but on each character's perception, interpretation and introspective comments.

Player One is a modern day novel that focuses on the commentary of 5 individuals all stuck in an airport lounge for 5 hours during a sudden and riotous Natural Oil crisis. Each character is given their chance to explain and reflect on the occurring events in a unique manner, focusing primarily on issues of faith, death, life and the 'after' that so often punctuate Coupland's work.

"For a brief moment she thinks of the pizza-sized black circles cartoon characters throw onto the ground – portable holes – which they jump into to escape difficult situations. In her mind, that’s where people go when they die: down Daffy Duck’s hole."

Each character has their unique take on faith, the meaning of living, and the weight of sin and death. It is this analysis, or this series of events which facilitate the analysis, that provides the meat of the story. With each new conversation and event the characters re-evaluate their perceptions of North American culture, their own values, and try and make sense of their purpose in life - or, indeed, whether or not they have them. From the scientifically and socially ‘abnormal’ yet beautiful Rachel who’s various brain anomalies prevent her from recognizing metaphors, faces, laughter or social norms, to the recovering alcoholic bartender Rick, Pastor turn thief Luke, witty single mom Karen, and the charismatic yet creepy ‘Monster’, the lot of them, a so-called “depressing grab bag of pop culture influences and cancelled emotions” contradict, compliment and question each other’s views of their world and the place they have in it.

Regardless of your religious, spiritual or scientific understandings of the world, PlayerOne makes you stop and think. Question things. See new perspectives. This, ultimately, is the signature of Coupland. He questions life and its functions, and therefore poses something new and interesting for the reader to ingest, digest, and do with what they will.

And though the subject matter may sound sort of heavy, the subtle humour, punchy style and short time frame of the novel keep it relatively light and easy reading, so that the reader does not get bogged down with concepts of Eternity, Sin and Justice, and the very concept of life as a story.
A well balanced, smart novel, easily enjoyable but just about any audience willing to approach with an open mind.
“Most big moments in life and death are quick – those key moments that define us probably fill less than three minutes altogether.”

Shelf Life

There is no greater joy than book shopping.

okay, that's not literally true, but it truly is one of my favourite things. I love browsing through the bookstore, walking the tall aisles. Sometimes I just want to get lost there all day and sit on the floor amidst all those stories, all those voices, all the potential books i have yet to read. I suppose I could do this more acceptably at a library, but frankly, a lot of public libraries [at least in mississauga] are not nearly that appealing. They are neither cool and modern nor old and historic - they just are in all their dumbed down suburban grossness. Do you know what I mean?

Anyway, as much as I love the concept of libraries - I want my own. I can't wait to acquire so many of my own books that I need a whole room for them. Oh, luxury! That's why I love book stores, I love buying books. Aquiring them, owning them, bringing them home with me to join the collection.

I went out looking for a very specific book, Norwegien Wood the other day, that my cousin recomended to me. He'd told me about it ages ago, and his brother and my sister have both read it as well. So i bought that. And then the guy at the bookstore who was [unnecessarily] helping me find it also recommended Never Let Me Go. which for the record seems to be completely different, but, I liked the sound of that too, so I bought that.

Looking at my bookshelf there are a few books that I have purchased and have yet to read - Player One by Coupland being one of them, and I'm having a bit of difficulty deciding what to read next. With the long awaited One of Our Thursdays is Missing finished, I had moved on the some classics - I'm desperately lacking in my classic read count - so I'm working through Jane Eyre 'again'.

All that being said what did I read nearly 200 pages of today? The Deathly Hallows. I couldn't help it. With the last Harry Potter movie being released next week, I felt I had to pick it up and read through it all one more time.

It;s been a book buying and book reading wonderful whirl of chaos these past few days. I'm hoping to get through as many as possible in the next couple weeks, and I've got the time for all of them, but deciding which to bring with me to the beach tomorrow? Now that will be beyond difficult.

Phonetically Speaking

Have you ever read a book written completely Phonetically?
It's an experience, I'll tell you that.

First off, let's explain what I mean by phonetic writing.
Phonetics (from the Greek: φωνή, phōnē, "sound, voice") is a branch of linguistics that comprises the study of the sounds of human speech. It is concerned with the physical properties of speech sounds (phones).
So, when I say Phonetic writing, what I am referring to would be writing that is written as you would hear it. IE if you were to write a characters speech 'with an accent'. It's the idea that if I were to read the writing out loud, exactly how it is written, i might sound [ish] exactly as that character would.

A wonderous example of this, and the one on which I am now blogging, is the one and only Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh.
"Life's boring and futile. We start oaf wi high hopes, then we bottle it. We realize that we're aw gaunnae die, withoot really findin oot the big answers. We develop aw they long-winded ideas which jist interpret the reality ay oor lives in different weys, withoot really extending oor body ay worthwhile knowledge, about the big things, the real things. Basically, we live a short, disappointing life; and then we die. "

[one of the few interesting quotes that didn't contain a slew of swear words and the like.]

The book in itself, is an experience, made all the more 'authentic' [if I am allowed to say that] by the language in which it is written. It is not only dialouge that is written in the Scottish phonetic, but the entirity of the novel - internal monologue, narration etc which really helps to pull you in to the mindset and lifestyle of each of the characters. There is something thatp ulls you in that extra bit with the phonetic that makes the reader feel not only as if they were in the experience, but as though they were on a different level of intimacy with that character - not to mention upholding the authenticity of setting, situation etc within the narrative.

Phonetic written is an underappreciated art, I think. Have you ever tired to write a character with an accent? You probablly just ended up stating that they had a smooth tone, or a brotosh drawl. Writing an entire novel in common day slang, cultural dialect is something else all together. With Trainspotting in particular, it is all about a lifestyle - the characters being various individuals connected to or [more usually] deeply submerged in the drug world of the Scottish poor. Without the language, without the grit and grime of it, the entire narrative would lose it's punch, unravel, and be another fluff piece trying to make a statement about druggies.

Instead it becomes a living breathing story of individuals, of a way of life, that encompasses a mindset with its faults, failings, desires and demands perfectly situated in street pub life of the characters.

Though reading phonetic writing can take a bit of time to get used to, and the first two pages might turn you off - it can be easy to become lost and/or have no idea what is happening, what anyone is saying, and what the heck 'ken' means, I urge you, dear reader, to push through for a little while and I promise the full flavour of the novel the style of writing will not disappoint.