What I’m Reading This Week (5/11/16)

Another week of flitting between books trying to find something to hold me.

coverI finished reading The Ginger Man and I’m not sure how I feel about it. Oh it’s very well written and gives an evocative sense of Dublin at the time (the late 1940s), but I had a real problem with the hero, Sebastian Dangerfield. Although he is an American he comes across as very Irish. I had to keep reminding myself of his nationality. Then there is his behaviour and attitudes. I know he’s a fictional character and that even unpleasant characters can be likeable. But, in the end, I just found him to be someone I didn’t want to spend any more time with. I finished the book, but I had to push myself to do so.

So then I was looking for something else to read. I was browsing one or two blogs when I came across a review of Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury, which you can read here. coverThis was another book I had read many years before and had thought about starting again. So after reading the review I started reading it. I had forgotten what a great stylist Bradbury was. Like The Ginger Man it’s very evocative of time and place, this time (I think) 1950s small town America. Anyway, I’ve read about a quarter of the book, am enjoying it and will be reading the rest over the next few days.

I started several other books this week (as usual) but haven’t stuck with any of them except the one I’ve just almost finished, Late Call by Angus Wilson. coverThis is set in an English new town in the early 1960s and is the story of a retired hotel manager, Sylvia Calvert who, with her husband, goes to live with their son, a headmaster, in Carshall New Town. What’s interesting, apart from Sylvia’s internal life, are the undercurrents and tensions running between all the main characters – Sylvia and her husband and son, her husband and various people, her son and his children – and the various problems and challenges of living in a new town. I have thoroughly enjoyed it and will definitely be reading more of Wilson’s books.

 

 

After I’ve finished Late Call, and have read the rest of the Bradbury, I’m tempted to reread another book I haven’t read for many years, Dune by Frank Herbert. I’ll let you know how that goes next week, same time, same station.cover

What I’m Reading This Week (29/10/16)

Another week, another batch of books (although most have only been part read).

Last week I wrote a bit about Flann O’Brien; I had started rereading The Hard Life and was reminiscing about a long-ago holiday in Ireland. Well, I finished the book, enjoyed it and, as is my wont, immediately looked for something else to read. I did what I generally tend to do when looking for something to read – scroll through the books on my Kobo to see what strikes my fancy.

I started several books but, at first, couldn’t find anything that I wanted to spend a day or two reading; My Booky Wook by  Russell Brand (might be fun but not what I was looking for), Wounds to Bind by Jerry Burgan (about the birth of folk-rock in the US, focusing on the group that Burgan was in, We Five, who I’ve never heard of. Interesting but, again, not quite what was needed), The Shape of Water by Andrea Camilleri (the first novel about Inspector Montalbano. My wife and I enjoyed watching these on TV and the novel seems promising but, again, not just now).

Then I came across a book that seemed as though it would satisfy my needs, Selling the Sixties: the pirates and pop music radio by Robert Chapman. 

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I remember the pirates. When I was at school, Morecambe Grammar in the early to mid-sixties, I used to listen to Radio Caroline on a transistor radio while on my way to school on the bus. There was little else to listen to, the BBC was rubbish if you wanted to hear pop music, and Radio Luxembourg was better but the reception was lousy. So Radio Caroline was the answer to a prayer. It started broadcasting from Ramsey Bay in the Isle of Man on 6th July 1964, a year before I finished school.

I can remember some of the music that was played; Tobacco Road by The Nashville Teens was definitely one, and a song I still think is fantastic, The Days of Pearly Spencer by David McWilliams, an Irish singer-songwriter who, I believe, should have been better known.

All in all an fascinating book, but probably only to those who have an interest in the pirates. Continue reading

Books! Books! So Many Books!

I was trawling through my Calibre book catalogue earlier today (and if you have an ebook reader then you really should check out Calibre – it’s free, it’s fabulous and it’s fun, and that’s enough fs for now), looking through the books read column. This started me thinking about which books, out of the who-knows-how-many-thousand I’ve read, had either given me the most pleasure and/or had made the biggest impression.

That’s a difficult one; there’s something about books you read when you are young, the vividness, the intensity, that no book read today can match (at least that’s how it is for me, but perhaps that’s just because I am a stilted, diminished old man). So, to remove that problem, and to make the list more contemporary, I’ll keep it to books and authors I have encountered in, say, the last ten years. Of course, being the untogether, disorganised person I am, that ten years is a fairly flexible period. Much as I try to keep lists of books I have read, together with the dates I finished them, plus a short review, I never manage to keep it up. I did buy a reading journal a couple of years ago, wrote lots in it for a couple of weeks, and now can’t even find it. Recently I decided to have another go, so looked on Amazon and saw that they were selling an A4 Moleskine© A-Z book for £6 (reduced from £24.38, and who can resist a bargain!) The book came and it’s now sitting on top of a cupboard, unused.

Anyway, here goes. I don’t know how many there are, but if there are too many for one post I’ll do more.

Non-Stop by Brian Aldiss  (1958)

coverI think this was published in the U.S. as Starship, which is a bit of a cheat as it gives away an important element of the book.

It’s Science Fiction, which is probably the genre I’ve read most in. It’s also a book I had read before, more than once. But it’s a great story, atmospheric, claustrophobic and, ultimately, a book about the indomitable nature of the human spirit. And Aldiss is a terrific writer.

I read it again, a couple of years ago, to see if it was as good as I had thought it was in my late teens. It was; I loved it.

At some point I will reread other books by him that I really enjoyed all those years ago; Hothouse, Greybeard, The Saliva Tree. Continue reading

What I’m Reading This Week (22/10/16)

K has been given a short sabbatical to ponder the error of his ways. That gives me a chance to write about some of the things I have been reading over the past week. In fact I’ll try to make this a weekly entry.

I finished reading Harriet Says by Beryl Bainbridge a few days ago and, as is my wont, I then started scrolling through the titles on my Kobo to see what struck my fancy (a fancy which is sometimes difficult to strike). I spent a few minutes reading the first few pages of The Great Shark Hunt by Hunter Thompson but, no, it was fiction I wanted.

A bit more scrolling and I came across a book by Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch. I’ve read one novel by Tartt, The Little Friend, which I loved. It’s the story of a murder, of a little boy found hanging in a tree, and of his sister’s efforts to unmask the murderer. Now it’s a few years since I read it but I remember being struck by its richness and depth and, like many of the books I love, I’ll read it again at some point. I did start one of her other books, The Secret History, but struggled to get into it. That doesn’t mean I won’t read it eventually; I remember starting Catch 22 a number of times before it clicked. So, The Goldfinch? I’ve read about 50 pages (it’s a longish book), and it’s gripping. But I realised that, after Beryl Bainbridge, I wanted something more familiar, something nearer to home.

So I’m rereading The Hard Life by Flann O’Brien. If you’ve never heard of him, he was an Irish author who wrote some of the strangest, funniest, most post-modern novels you could wish to read. The Hard Life is funny, but it’s more conventional; it’s the story of two boys growing up in Dublin at the beginning of the twentieth century. It’s very Irish and very funny and pokes fun at the Irish society of the time. Influenced by James Joyce, it is semi-autobiographical, taking place in parts of Dublin which O’Brien (or to give him his real name Brian O’Nolan) , knew well, with characters in the book based on real people (Mr. Collopy, for example, is based on his former master in the civil service, Sean MacEntee). O’Brien himself believed that The Hard Life was “a very important book and very funny. Its apparently pedestrian style is delusive”. It’s many years since I last read any of his books and I think, now that I’ve started, I’ll reread the rest.

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Google Doodle for 5th October 2012 celebrating what would have been O’Brien’s 101st birthday

Thinking about O’Brien, about thirty years ago my wife and I were on a camping holiday in Ireland and, one day, we decided to drive up into the hills somewhere between Dublin and the West Coast (I can’t be any more precise because it’s a long time ago and my memory only holds shadows and glimpses before about Thursday last). We were in a borrowed minivan and broke down at the top of a hill near a café and gift shop. Stranded there, waiting for a breakdown lorry, we went to look round the gift shop. They had some books, and in amongst them I found Flann O’Brien: an illustrated biography by Peter Costello and Peter van de Kamp (I just looked on Amazon and you can get a copy for 1p).

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Its well worth getting hold of if you are interested in O’Brien, especially because of the many photos, drawings etc. (there’s even a copy of his application for a place at University College, Dublin in 1929).

James Joyce said of O’Brien, with reference to At Swim Two Birds, “That’s a real writer with a true comic spirit,” and who could argue with that?

A Chat With the Administrator

Our hero (We call him that not because he is particularly heroic, but rather due to him being the focus of these posts – I think there’s some vanity in there as well, after all he is the one writing this), has been called in by the Blog Administrator to deal with problems raised by his last post (which you can read here), where he went completely outside the remit of the blog. The meeting is taking place in the Blog Administrator’s office, which is not as luxurious as you might think, and does smell slightly of old blankets.

Blog Administrator: I take it you know why I’ve called you in?

Blogger: Something to do with your rules, wasn’t it?

Blog Administrator: Not my rules, the rules of the blog. If you look at the masthead it states quite clearly, ‘A lifetime of music, books, addiction and recovery’. Agreed?

Blogger: I suppose so. But I was ……

Blog Administrator: You suppose so! Does it, or does it not, state at the top of the blog what the blog is about?

Blogger: Yes. But ….

Blog Administrator: And does it say anything about cars and parking?

Blogger: No, but it was just something I ….. Continue reading

Scenes From a Misunderstood Life (Part 1)

Scene: A 3-storey Victorian terraced house in Lancaster, in the North West of England, looking towards Lancaster Castle and with the hills of the Lake District visible in the distance to the North.

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Lancaster Castle with the Lake District behind

Our hero (why not?), balding, slim, spectacled (Aldi £2.49) sits at a pineish dining table in the living room, fingers poised over a tiny netbook. Sitting on an old Ikea bentwood chair to the side of him is the interviewer. Taking a notebook and pen from a large and serious-looking leather bag the interviewer turns towards our hero and says:

Interviewer: So, tell me Kevin, what are you reading at the moment?

Our Hero: (turning and removing spectacles) Well, Michael, I’ve just finished reading …..

Interviewer: Let me stop you there, Kevin. You just called me Michael.

OH: That’s right, Michael.

I: But my name isn’t Michael.

OH: (Puzzled) Sorry. I thought all interviewers were called Michael.

I: Not this one.

OH: So what is your name? Continue reading

Enthusiasm(s)

I was thinking about what I do with my life and realised that it goes in phases, phases of enthusiasm for one thing and another.

At the moment it’s e-books. I love reading (a continuing enthusiasm which has never left me) and when I discovered e-readers it was like the answer to a prayer. Instead of carting around a book, usually in a coat pocket or a shoulder bag, I could take all the books I needed, or thought I needed, in a nice, neat little package, always ready to open at the page I was on. I won’t tell you how many e-books I have (it’s a lot!) and my enthusiasm at the moment is having all the ones I want to read on my Kobo Aura (love it!) and have them sorted into categories – fiction, non-fiction, science, sf, fantasy, music, films, literature etc. I use Calibre, a free ebook catalogue programme where I can sort them, categorise, download covers and lots of other nifty things. It’s my favourite computer programme (not an app, apps are for mobile phones) and an example to a lot of commercial software companies of how to write a programme that is elegant, useful and, all in all, a pleasure to use.

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Calibre – my favourite programme

Continue reading