ed_moore's Reviews (345)

Kazuo Ishiguro’s ‘The Remains of the Day’ follows Stevens, the butler of Darlington Hall, as he takes a week out from his position to go on a motor trip through the English countryside. The present day storyline is extremely basic and unexciting for the most part, but the book is primarily made up on his reminiscing of past experiences as butler for Lord Darlington, often serving on the global geopolitical stage in the period between WW1 and WW2. 

A lot of Stevens’ recounts focus on what makes a good butler and why he believes he is such, not one of the ‘greats’ but still highly experienced and successful. This leads to a lot of emphasis being placed on duty before anything else, and in the cases of his empathy towards others being backseated in favour of professionalism he occasionally comes across quite dislikable. For the most part, however, Stevens is a respectable and likeable character with a lot to share. 

It happens to be the second book of the week about a journey through the countryside, reminiscing on the past and discussing the rise of fascism, of which is a really strange coincidence for this wasn’t intentional, though I think ‘Remains of the Day’ did the latter two similarities far better than Orwell’s ‘Coming up for air’, that being said, though Ishiguro is likely only trying to portray Stevens as extremely loyal and professional, his emphasis on duty meaning he does not question and oppose neo-fascist ideologies despite limited internals hints of opposition is both problematic but an interesting look at conformity of those in lower-class positions. In the political debates though, I did prefer ‘Coming up for Air’. This may have been an unlikely book to draw on for this review but it was such a recent similar read I felt obliged to. 

‘Remains of the Day’ is largely a quaint relaxing story too, raising interesting questions on morals versus duty and also embracing nature. There isn’t much character development and the final message was a little rouge given the tone of the book, but it was ultimately enjoyable.

This book was so absurd yet absolutely hilarious I am obsessed. Patrick Süskind’s ‘The Pigeon’ follows a bank security guard in Paris, Jonathan Noel, and the way his day is completely transformed by the domino effect of a pigeon being outside his door that morning. It is almost a satirical retelling of Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The Raven’, yet in its absurdism very Kafkaesque in tone so immediately set out to be a book I would love, and just that was the case. 

The descriptions of the spiralling stream of consciousness fronted with the pigeon are so funny and also brilliantly written, the pacing in sublime and the following descent into madness is a wonderful read, simply because of a pigeon, and that is the beauty of it. It’s so short too, I read it in a sitting, yet offers so much. It also sort of resonated with my brain in the manner which the smallest of changes in routine can completely disrupt and ruin the whole day, and in a way that added to ‘The Pigeon’s’ charm on a personal level. And it’s the simple fact that all the chaos throughout the novel is the direct effect of the presence of a pigeon. 

‘Coming Up For Air’ is a story of the deceptions of nostalgia and follows a down-and-out, red faced and overweight George Bowling who us unhappy in his marriage and his life in the building estate houses of London. In the wake of the Second World War he reminisces on his childhood in Lower Binfield in the Oxfordshire countryside, his life in the greengrocers shop and days alone fishing, and then decides to return to find a village struck by industrialisation and development, everyone he once knew having died or left, and a loss of the childhood he looked back so fondly upon. 

 

Orwell really didn’t play to his strengths here. Bowling was an unlikeable protagonist who had an awful superiority complex and belief all would stay the same for him, where frankly he had lived a very mundane life which in recounting such resulted in quite a mundane story. Orwell’s criticisms of capitalism and the building societies, in addition to his ridicule of fascism as the periodical context of the rise of Hitler and the perception of such from the everyday Londoner was explored, was in Orwellian fashion absolutely brilliant and written so well, but such made up very little of the story. The main plot elements were boring and also Orwell did himself no favours in his reputation with female characters. Bowling’s wife Hilda is entirely dismissed and antagonised just for wanting her husband to stop sleeping around, and depictions of other women in their brief appearances are extremely derogatory. The descriptions of the tide of war were also interesting, but hindsight is a blessing in that the “predictions” made and how obvious the coming state of the country was perhaps wouldn’t have been as obvious to the people of London in 1939 as Orwell made it out to be with hindsight on his side when writing. 

 

Where Orwell was good in his writing, anti-capitalism and anti-fascism, in addition to a wider literary appreciation discussing the role of books in ‘Coming up for Air’, he was brilliant. However, where Orwell faltered in both the engagement of the plot and his presentation of character in this case, he was far from commendable. This one of his works really disappointed me. 

‘A Good Girls Guide to Murder’ is the story of Pip, a college aged girl who decides to write her EPQ on how Sal Singh, the murderer of Andie Bell 5 years ago and victim of his own suicide, is actually innocent. It was a murder mystery with so many elements and threads to follow that it was hard to keep track which clues tied to which suspects, but ultimately ended in quite an ungrounded outcome.

The plot was extremely engaging and kept me listening (I audio booked it resulting in one of my main criticisms), however though engaging due to its nature as a murder mystery with so many theories and angles the writing itself wasn’t so great. Jackson’s prose was quote typical of a YA and in no manner anything remarkable, just did the job in telling the story, and her characters were also mostly one dimensional and flat, the suspects were bad and everyone else was good, they served their role in the plot and nothing more.
 

The story itself would probably warrant somewhere between 3-3.5 but it has really been dragged down by the narration of the audiobook. Though this is no fault of the writing it was a format I really didn’t enjoy, dramatised by voice actors for scenes of speech and especially added sound effects, rings and voice distortions for phone calls. I just didn’t enjoy such. The mystery was engaging but everything else was just fine.

This was so so so unbelievably good. I don’t know why nor how but Hesse’s ‘Siddhartha’ absolutely broke me, especially in its conclusion. It is a bildungsroman tale of a young man in India 600 years before the birth of Christ, and his gaining of a Buddhist faith, the loss of that faith and the rediscovery of it again. It is a quaint tale of a quest for enlightenment which explores what it means to be human in so many degrees and in such a profound way. I really didn’t expect much from this book when I started it but it absolutely blew me away. 

Hesse’s writing is so well done and encapsulates so much emotion, and though by no means religious myself it was such a hopeful and sweet story that brought me so much joy and pushed so much good. The amount covered in the short length and character development was brilliant, and there are dark sections and triggers but despite this it still felt completely pure, and these elements had such crucial purposes. Not to mention the narrator of the audiobook I listened to, James Langton, pronounced the name ‘Siddhartha’ in such a satisfying way. 

The ending really struck me and significantly jumped up my rating too. I don’t know what it was about ti but the description was beautiful and profound, and the story feeling so complete, that it really had an effect on me. I was listening to final chapter just in complete awe at how amazingly written a work of literature it was. I am so surprised how much I enjoyed this book as it really isn’t typically my sort of interests but it was so brilliant. I absolutely adored it.

Om.

Steinbeck’s ‘Of Mice and Men’ is the short tale of two immigrant workers, George and his mentally disabled giant puppy of a friend Lennie. It follows the pair finding work on a ranch and trying to hold down the job as Lennie struggles to navigate what is socially appropriate and constantly speaking about his dreams to tend his own rabbits. 

The prose of the novella was really well written in places, especially descriptions in the openings and conclusions, and in such a short story Steinbeck brings so much life and personality to each character. He does fall into stereotypes, Lennie’s inability to understand the concept of death relating mental disability to psychopathy, whereas the very fact such theme was addressed at the time of writing in 1937, and even not completely undermined and handled with some form of gentleness and sympathy, even though highly flawed, is a merit. Matters of race and gender in the characters aren’t treated so well however, the figure of Curley’s wife is the only woman in the book and remains unnamed in addition to fulfilling the stereotypes of a whore, and many racial slurs are used in relation to the only black character. Note ‘Of Mice and Men’ very liberally uses the ’N’ word. There is also, in Lennie’s lack of comprehension of death, a large amount of violence towards animals.

Parts of ‘Of Mice and Men’ were sweet and parts disgusting, parts brilliantly written and parts quite poorly written. In relating it to the other Steinbeck I have read exploring similar themes of a false American dream, seeking work and agriculture, ‘The Grapes of Wrath’ was a much stronger piece of prose, but for how short ‘Of Mice and Men’ was (I read it in a single evening), it has its merits.

Conan Doyle’s ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’ is renowned as one of the most loved Sherlock Holmes mysteries, though interestingly doesn’t have much involvement from the detective himself. Alike to the other mysteries the case of the supernatural hound haunting the Baskerville family and resulting in the suspicious death of Sir Charles Baskerville is narrated by Dr Watson, whereas he too is the only one of the pair to go to the Devonshire Moors in order to investigate for the larger chunk of the book. 

The setting of the mystery was wonderful, the moors had an eerie gothic feel that echoed that of Brontë’s ‘Wuthering Heights’ and though set in Devonshire, Conan Doyle took much inspiration and the Baskerville name from the Herefordshire area, therefore reading the majority of the book whilst on a short trip to Herefordshire was very on theme. Whilst such personal context enhanced the read, another personal context did however diminish it. It feels unnatural to be relating a classic to such a modern novel as the initial startpoint, but I read Haddon’s ‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time’ just before this, and that book decided to spoil the entire plot over the course of one page, which was mightily inconvenient given my reading intentions. For the most part I realised what was going on in the latter book and skipped over it so the mystery wasn’t completely ruined for me in advance. 

That being said, there wasn’t overly much to be ruined, the clues and solution were straightforward and the motive typical, in addition to there disappointingly being no sort of twist and the killer being identified by about the 2/3 mark of the book rather than being caught in the ending chapters. This did take some excitement that typically exists around mystery novels away. 

Despite such, the story was still well crafted, the supernatural elements surrounding the hound were engaging and the setting was brilliant. 

I only just justified Charlotte Smith’s ‘Beachy Head’ as a long enough poem to track my reading of such. It is a poem that explores the relationship between man and nature (a traditional work of romanticism) but from the perspective of the cliffs of Beachy Head. Here Smith follows human history looking at the fossilised past and the Norman conquest to the mundane of fishing and the nighttime acts of smuggling. 

The poem is written with no rhyme scheme but also lacks a stanza structure, the lengths constantly varying for no major perceived reason. As far as a work of romanticism goes, it was extremely typical and not much special at all. Given my love for many Romantic works and the themes surrounding such, this one just didn’t really hit the mark for me. 

Costanza Casati’s retelling of the Clytemnestra myth ‘Clytemnestra’ was the story told through the eyes of the model for the unfaithful wife in mythology, justifying her actions for the most part and exploring her pain and suffering. This largely removes the trope of Clytemnestra as a ‘bad wife’ as the myth suggests because it makes all her actions completely agreeable toward the reader when placed in her mind, though there are still occasions where her revenge pushes a little far and perhaps her violence wasn’t extremely necessary. 

 

That being said, the way Casati retold the myth wasn’t the greatest, Agamemnon is clearly the antagonist but there is no process of coming to hate the man more and more, before anything has happened Clytemnestra already despises him and leading up to his murder the plateau of hatred remains completely unchanged (Confident I am not spoiling anything there it is a retelling of a well known myth!) It is also extremely clear which characters Casati has created herself for the story, these figures all having modern names that stand out completely. The myth retelling is also limited in its coverage as though starting right at the beginning, it ends after the murder and the revenge of Orestes is not explored. 

 

Other than plot choices, the narration was very basic and condescending toward the reader in a way, no elements were left for me to determine myself or piece together. ‘Clytemnestra’ was a fine retelling, though nothing more than such. 

‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime’ is written from the perspective of 15 year old Christopher, a boy with ASD (called its now dead-term in the book but it was written before the name change was pushed), as he tries to solve the murder of the neighbours dog. It is going to be difficult for me to review this the same way I always review books for reasons that should become clear as I write this review, so bear with me. 

My mum got me this book when I was first diagnosed ASD perhaps to help me figure some things out about myself while I was still starting to discover how my brain worked, and for some reason those many years ago I never read it. When I went home for Easter I saw it on my shelf and wondered why I had never read it, and decided to give it a go as it is one of the most mainstream depictions of ASD in literature that I am aware of, though also maybe a bit young of a book for me now with what I typically read. It was for example full of pictures to explain things rather than actually just using words to explain things, which both fit the plot point of Christopher writing the book as the story unfolds, but also was much more juvenile writing than I enjoy reading. 

On the same wavelength, the writing style was extremely basic and to the point, completely lacking in description, which I understand is due to a combination of writing from Christopher’s mind and also the age demographic (my mind doesn’t function in quite so blunt a manner, it is more far too all over the place.) Addressing the most important element of the book, Haddon’s depiction of ASD, I think it was mostly well done. There were many parts of Christopher I related too, which was nice as I don’t see it often in characters, but also with the diversity in ASD obviously many parts that I don’t experience. Christopher was certainly an individual with high-functioning ASD. He also had his brain STEM orientated (the chapters were all prime number) which is the complete opposite to my literary brain. However, though there is a spectrum with how mainstream a presentation of ASD Haddon’s story is, I wasn’t so much a fan of the lack of recognition of the spectrum, for Christopher was completely emotionless in many situations and came across quite psychopathic, a trait which can be the case but is certainly not universally representative. At no point is it recognised that not everyone with ASD sees in the same way. At one point he romanticises a world where everyone has just died and he is overjoyed because the rest of the population is dead, which didn’t sit too well for me. The best presentation came in the chapters spent on the train and in the train station, the depiction of information overload is so good and it made me feel so heard and understood. The constant scheduling also really resonated. 

Returning to the plot, it would often cut from moments of tension and just insert an unrelated chapter about a random topic or special interest, which was nice in a way that it demonstrated the volatility of his brain, but from the perspective of good storytelling this really wasn’t beneficial. Some elements were humorous, and there were also many jokes that just made absolutely no sense. It did spoil the whole plot of Hound of the Baskervilles (which is weirdly timed as I am reading it next because it has connections to Herefordshire and is therefore themed reading for my few days away) without any reason or warning which was quite annoying though and I also can’t brush over how toxic the adult relationships are and this really isn’t addressed and made out as almost okay, especially in the resolution of such. 

So there we go, I rambled, and this is really difficult to rate as from a storytelling perspective it was lacking in many places and wouldn’t score too well, it was a little too young for me now,  but I also really resonated with the book. I really should have just read it when it first found its way onto my shelf.