The Cat Who Saved Books

This beautiful book was on sale at my local store. Since it had two of my beloved things on the cover – cat and books – I had to read it. Turns out, book is also handily sized, so it came with me to two of my long weekend trips in Europe. And it was a great book to carry around, here’s why.

This book’s protagonists are a tabby cat that talks and a young boy who has recently lost his grandfather, thereby inheriting an old and crumbly bookshop. The cat appears one day, out of nowhere, to present the quiet Rintaro of Natsuki Books with a challenge – to save books that are stuck in various labyrinths. These books have come unto the possession of people, who through good intentions or bad, aren’t able to care for books as they should. And so Rintaro must intervene.

What follows are the tales of the journeys themselves, this boy and this talking cat on their mission. The book forces us to think of our own relationships with books – those we own, those we read and those we love. Through introspection it makes us reveal what it is we value about books, and also a great deal about our own ego.

Of course, Rintaro has a lady friend, and she somehow gets embroiled in this tale too. It is very cute. I really loved reading this book. It has all the hallmarks of modern Japanese writing – a quiet protagonist, a cat, a moral somewhere in there and feelings you cannot quite put your finger on. And magic realism, which I love.

The Vegetarian … a review

This book was recommended to me by my voracious reader friend S, who really just wanted to sound me out on what I thought of it. Book won the Man Booker in 2016 and I got a good deal on it on the eBook, so that worked well. Set in modern day South Korea, it traces the life of a young woman Yeong-hye, who decides, simply, to go vegetarian.

Vegetarianism is in vogue right now. Some people do it for healthier lifestyles, and some do it in response to climate concerns. But in many countries, such a choice is seen as a purposeful act of rebellion. This is what happens to our protagonist – none of her family understands her. It is probably inconsequential, but she does it because she has a vision of sorts. The author Kang takes this act of defiance and stretches it to an extreme. There is a very powerful scene where Yeong-hye’s family forcibly try to feed her some meat, and things go very very wrong.

This is the story of each person who is bucking against the norm. The world sees you as an aberration, and an anomaly to be ‘fixed’. They go through denial, bargaining, anger and eventual acceptance. Yeong-hye’s family and relationships are thrown into turmoil. Will they be able to come out unscathed on the other end?

A fine work, one that gave me mixed feelings. The overarching theme is nice, but a number of sub-plots did nothing for me on the whole. S agreed, and we had a nice chat about that. Would I recommend it – yes, even if to confront your own personal unconscious bias toward those who dare to swim against the tide.

Bridge of Clay … a review

I liked ‘The Book Thief’ reasonably well. I thought it was a good read and as a reader, some elements of it really touched my soul. And then, I was fortunate to catch Markus Zusak at EdBookFest last year taking about Bridge of Clay. This book has been 2 decades in the making. And since I hadn’t read any other books by the author, this one seemed a natural choice.

The story follows the lives of 5 Dunbar brothers, of whom Clay is one. The book is a story of their lives and their times through darkness and light. Many characters in the form of parents, pets, friends and lovers come and go. But fundamentally, it is a story of family and relationships. I was actually pretty disappointed with this book.

The writing is too metaphorical. I know that is a strange thing to say, but if you read a sample chapter, you will see what I mean. Take for example, this quote:

“The town itself was a hard, distant storyland; you could see it from afar. There was all the straw-like landscape, and marathons of sky. Around it, a wilderness of low scrub and gum trees stood close by, and it was true, it was so damn true: the people sloped and slouched.”

It’s beautifully written, there’s a real sense here of what the town is like, and it is evocative. But imagine all 600 pages written in prose like this! No, we do not need descriptions like that all the time, nor narration. The nuggests of the story are nice, but the writing is just too weird.

I have a feeling that this book might be better as an Audiobook – it has an airy-fairy quality and should perhaps be heard slowly. Anyway, the author himself has read it for the audiobook, so perhaps you should give that a go. As for Zusak, sure I will read his other books, but perhaps I will try a sample out first!

5 Books to Read in One Sitting

Mental fatigue during the pandemic is a real thing. And if you’re like me, or like thousands of others, you might find it hard to concentrate on books right now. Ever feel like you need to turn back and re-read the last 20 pages because you have zoned out? Yes, I know that feeling to. So allow me to introduce you to shorter reads – still novels, but ones that you can finish off quickly.

1. Of Love and Other Demons

The story of 12-year-old Sierva Maria is larger-than-life, disconcerting, and endearing. A metaphor for life right now, her epidemic disease and her cure will seem so much closer to home right now. And what is love anyway, but the cosmic collision of two unlikely forces?

In this book, they come together as exorcist and a suspect demon, but you will not care.

Review: here

2. Mister God, This is Anna

What is it about children that gives them a direct connection to the divine, have you ever wondered?

This book is a life affirming story of a runaway child Anna and her friend Fynn. Anna has a quirky take on life that is innocent and childish; but often profound. Join Fynn in unravelling the Universe as he listens to Anna.

Review: here

 

3. Memories of My Melancholy Whores

This is a challenging book. One that will make you rethink the boundaries in which you think love should exist. A 90-year-old decides to give himself the gift of a wild night with a virgin. And we spend the next 2-3 hrs examining our own prejudices and perhaps dimensions of the nature of love.

A true classic.

Review: here

 

4. Jamilia

Why are all the shorter books about love? I think it is because it is an emotion most familiar to us and requires the least number of words to convey. Jamilia is a young Kyrgyz woman who is left behind in the village as her husband is at war. But she develops feelings for the village war-hero-return. And the dynamics of this forbidden love is told by Jamilia’s young brother-in-law. Read this book for literature from a little known country.

Review: here

5. Praise Song for the Butterflies

A beautiful read and trust me, Abeo’s story will haunt you. Many misfortunes befall this little girl in a deprived West African country. And eventually, she is sent to a cult-like shrine in her country by her own family. Written by a female author, Abeo’s story comes to life through the tortures and trials of her being. It really brings home the reality of life for millions of African women even today.

Review: here

 

7 Days 7 Books

I was ‘nominated’ to do the 7 days 7 books challenge on Facebook by a reader friend. And this is the sort of thing I like, because it forces me to revisit books and my feelings for them. I thought I’ll do books set in ‘unusual locations.’ I’ve been trying to read fiction from regions less known about for the last few years. And so here were my 7

I tried to pick books from far flung regions – ones that those in my circle may not have come across. Unfortunately, I didn’t do anything compelling from Africa or Middle East (or even Australia/NZ) but I had to pick 7. I also wanted to include female authors so that helped me hone this down as well.

In no particular order, these were Jamilia, The Hungry Tide, A Dream in Polar Fog, Zlata’s Diary, Island on the Edge, Papillon, The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society.

What books would you have picked? Feel free to recommend some that I may not have read!

A Dream in Polar Fog … a review

I chanced upon a wonderful book. A Dream in Polar Fog is written by Yuri Rytkheu, a Chukchi writer. It is translated from the original Russian by Ilona Yazhbin Chavasse. During the Covid-19 crisis, the wonderful people over at Archipelago Books are offering it for free, amongst many of their other books.

I have always like Russian literature – it is rich, poetic and most authors write of a world we know very little about. There was always a smattering of fantastic books by Maxim Gorky, Mikhael Sholokov, Pushkin and Boris Polevoi around in my childhood. And I still own so many books that were translated into English by Progress Publishers. One day, I would love to visit. But in the meantime, books!

What I loved about this book is that it is set in a remote area near the Kamchatka Peninsula, where a Canadian sailor is stuck. What starts off an as entrapment in John’s mind turns into life at the end of it. The stunning polar tundra is described in detail – the endless snow, the fauna of the bears, foxes and walruses, and the dance of the norther lights. An imaginative mind is welcomed to dance with the words. Shamans preach and hunters hunt in these far byond nowehere lands, and it is fascinating to learn how the Chukchi survive.

It is week 3 of isolation here in the UK and this book was great to put everything into perspective. So many communities like these are proponents of simple living and being one with nature. Eat what you can gather, save up for the harsh winters and share even if you have little – all of these things come through John’s life. But now, they are all starting to come through in all of ours too – as the world is struggling to adapt to the new normal.

The book is free, so I 100% recommend it. And stay safe, wherever your home is.

Bottled Goods … a review

Sophie van Llewyn’s Bottled Goods is written in a serious of flash fiction. This is the perfect plae to start if you are unfamiliar with this style of prose. But basically, it is a series of short sharp chapters that loosely weave a common theme together. They form a novella, a short read. It is the 1970s in Communist Romania, a young woman Alina is in a loveless marriage with her husband Liviu. And when her broth-in-law defects, they both find themselves under the intense scrutiny by the Secret Service.

Llewyn’s style is fluid and reminiscent of Anne Enright’s prose, I though. The book relies on magic realism to present Alina’s escape from the drudgery of her humdrum life. And as she plans it, she must make peace with her mother. She relies on her Aunt’s help, but it isn’t the kind you might be expecting. This book, although a work of fiction, creates a believable world.

And as it build into a climax, it is impossible to put it down. By then, I am too invested in Alina’s fate, I am rooting for her, and I am rooting for her identity. As a young woman’s tale of love, loss, betrayal and magic takes shape, a great candidate for this year’s Man Booker longlist is born.

Quote: Alina stares into her nearly empty cup. The coffee grounds have arranged themselves in a pattern like angel wings, but dark. If she had been as skilled in reading the signs as her aunt, perhaps she would have been able to divine her fall.

The Memory Keeper’s Daughter … a review

I had heard a lot about this book so when I chanced upon it, I picked it up. It was meant to be a travel read, and it is a good size and weight for that. So if you are going away on holiday this summer and want something interesting, I would recommend this book.

The plot hinges on Dr. David Henry, who lies to his wife and tell her that one of their twins, a daughter, was stillborn. In reality, she had Down’s and he gave her away to the nurse to put in a home. The nurse Caroline, couldn’t bear it however, and decides to raise the child herself. The plot is a bit too iffy. There are too many coincidences and the fact that Mrs Henry is totally obsessed in her grief but manages to mother her son and have a life anyway (however grudgingly) is a bit strange. She also questions her husband surprisingly less in the initial year after her daughter’s death, even though she cannot get past it.

But, but, once you get past all that, and assume the plot is a given, the portrayal of the fragility of relationships is actually brilliant. The slow decay of the Henry marriage, the dysfunctional family unit for Paul – the surviving child, the evolving relationship of Mrs Henry and her sister, the secret between Caroline and Dr Henry, and the struggles of Caroline with her ‘dauhter’ Phoebe are all excellently handled. Life can sometimes be stranger than fiction and the various people in their individual journeys are well-bound by this strange secret – a disabled child.

The treatment of peoples’ past as well is nicely written and you can see how each character’s past shapes their thoughts and behaviour. This is generally always true for good books, but this one is particular was standout. Down’s children as well are very precocious  in some ways and through Phoebe, those sentiments are nicelyconveyed. Overall, I really enjoyed this book and I can see why there was a hype about it.

The Daylight Gate … a review

I was at Lancaster University last week and spending some time walking around Pendle College and ended up at their very impressive student library. What do I do when that happens? Pick up a book and make a beeline for an empty couch! I picked up this book because I had been to Lancaster Castle the day before and only just found out about the area’s connection to witches!

The book is set in 1612, when James I, a Protestant King, is on the throne. He was James VI of Scotland, of course, the son of Mary Queen of Scots. Apparently, he was obsessed with ridding his realm of twin evils, witchcraft and Catholicism, at any price…

The narrative has an old fashioned writing style, it is not halting though, just different. The local sheriff at Pendle hill interrupts a strange meeting as he suspects it to be a witches’ Sabbat. I won’t tell you how, but even Shakespeare plays a cameo – how cool is that!?

It is a very short read although it looks deceptively thick. It took me a couple of hours and a bit to read, although I was totally engrossed in it. The library was fab and the weather outside was, well, underwhelming, so there.

An Atlas of Impossible Longing … a review

It has been a long time since I read an Indian author writing in English. I cannot say I have read a lot of them anyway, but Amitav Ghosh has always been close to my heart. And I still remember reading The Hungry Tide a long time ago and how it touched me.

This novel by Anuradha Roy touches on some similar themes. The idea of caste in rural Bengal, the frequent floods, the ache of unrequited love are all similar and deftly captured. The story of two generations of young men and women, whose live just meander along with little or no meaning, with the passage of time is written in a poignant way.

There is a Macondo-esque village in this novel, a kind of place that has life infused in it easily and one can almost imagine it standing as a still witness to the coming and goings of its characters. I also loved the descriptions and imagery in the passing of the seasons and the effects upon the soft green lands.

Roy’s writing is very beautiful, and it lends itself well to the theme of longing. I hadn’t even heard of her but will definitely keep an eye out for more of her works. I’ll leave you with this quote…

“A veritable atlas. What rivers of desire, what mountains of ambition. Want, want, hope, hope, this is what your palm say, your palm is nothing but an atlas of impossible longings.”