'Minotaur' by Benjamin Tammuz

The keen readers amongst you will have noticed a few Europa Editions posts amongst my reviews of late; this, the third, is Minotaur by Benjamin Tammuz. Minotaur, an Israeli novel originally published in Hebrew in 1989, is the story of a handful of individuals who form the four-corners-of-a-love-square, if you will, bound and connected by obsession, desire and perverse, destructive love. Each character takes a part of the narrative, which begins with an Israeli secret agent noticing a beautiful teenager on a London bus on his forty-first birthday...

I found this book to be an addictive and riveting novel of doomed noir, reminiscent of John le Carre's European spies, but backlit by Middle Eastern dust, sunshine and politics. The telescopic narrative, narrated by the four to the story's conclusion, felt akin to moving down a tunnel which progressively narrows and tightens until it collapses in on itself, trapping the reader, as well as all the characters, as the title might suggest. It is claustrophobic, thick with secrets and ambiguities, and written/translated in a sparse and elegiac hand. I read it in a day on holiday, falling further and further into the twists and turns of the story, before reaching its conclusive and satisfying end.

Surprisingly, given the Israeli and European links of both the author and the story, this story felt quite Japanese to me, and reminiscent of the characters and tone of a number of modern Japanese writers, such as Banana Yoshimoto and Haruki Murakami. A number of the main motifs are there: the distant, nostalgia-fulled, almost-invented relationship between the central male character and his idealised object of affection - who seems to offer beaming salvation to him based  purelyon a look, a face, a memory - wasn't dissimilar to the relationship between Shimamoto and Hajime in Murakami's South of the Border, West of the Sun. This book also features crippling, inescapable loneliness as well themes of delayed gratification, narcissistic love and ambiguous self-concealment, which felt Japanese to me in description and tone. This gave it a langourous elegance and an extra layer of interest which might serve to expand its possible readership if anyone else picks up on that also. This, layered upon the dry heat of a settlement and several of the most intriguing corners of Europe, adds up to a cosmopolitan and complex novel which unfurls slowly and deliberately until its final page.

My only criticism would be based around the structure of the book: I found the final section to be a bit long and in need of different voice or another type of variation, but overall I found this to be an unsettling, beguiling and addictive literary thriller, awash with noir and atmosphere, which has stayed darkly in my mind in the weeks since reading.

Title: Minotaur

Author: Benjamin Tammuz, translated from the Hebrew by Kim Parfitt and Mildred Budny
Publisher: Europa Editions
Publication date: Original 1989, translation 8th May 2013
Format: Paperback, 185 pages, and I was sent it by Europa as an ARC.






'The Politics of Book Purchasing' Guestpost on 12 Books, 12 Months

A short series of posts by me over on 12 Books 12 Months concludes today with my guestpost 'The Politics of Book Buying', in which I describe the complex overthinking that goes into each of my book purchasing escapades.

I've actually already read Margaret Atwood's 'Surfacing' (read my review here) and Murakami's 'South Of The Border, West Of The Sun' (review here), whilst the other two books mentioned are nearing the top of my TBR pile. 

Rest assured, I've also bought many more books since then. 

Thanks again to Ali at 12 Books, 12 Months for allowing me air time on her wonderful blog!

  





Review: 'South of the Border, West of the Sun' by Haruki Murakami

This is the latest in a vague, meandering odyssey through Haruki Murakami's books that I've been making over the last few years, and I'd estimate I'm now about halfway through. I picked it up in Waterstones the other day as I fancied something new to read and I'm totally attracted to slim volumes at the moment after my epic Dickens tomes, the complete reading of which has turned into a total non-starter, not that I'm too sorry about that.

'South of the Border, West of the Sun' is the story of Hajime, the narrator and central character, who we follow from early adolescence to his mid-thirties in Tokyo, where he goes from awkward schoolboy to lonely twenty-something to a married, jazz bar-owning early middle-aged man. The story starts with his quiet friendship with a similarly lonely girl called Shimamoto, with whom he plays records after school and feels his first confusing feelings of teenage lust. He then moves schools and they lose touch. The story then moves forward detailing his few failed love affairs, his sad, maladapted twenties and then marriage and fatherhood, before Shimamoto reappears, just in time for his tragically-impending mid-life crisis.







In My Mailbox, No. 6

It's April, which means it's In My Mailbox time again, hosted as always by The Story Siren! So...





'Ashenden, or, The British Agent' by W. Somerset Maugham is my current read, and was part of a wonderful late birthday present last Saturday. It's my first Somerset Maugham, which is quite exciting. Review to follow in a week or so.








'The Pendragon Legend' by Antal Szerb, and translated from the Hungarian by Len Rix, was the second part of my late birthday present, and it's an intriguing-sounding murder mystery/hilarious romp/'gently satirical blend of gothic and romantic genres' (according to the blurb). Yikes. Looking forward to this.






'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close' by Jonathan Safran Foer marked the beginning of a little shopping spree that I had in my local Waterstones on Wednesday, when I feeling a bit down. Buying books always make me feel better, and if I chose instinctively, rather than by just buying what I need, I often end up buying books with vague answers in for me. Anyway, this was on buy one, get one half price at the front of the store, and see ing as the consensus seems to be that the film is a miss, I though now's as good a time to read this as any.








'South Of The Border, West Of The Sun' by Haruki Murakami was the next book I picked up - this is one of only a few of his that I haven't read, and I liked the thought of a slim volume that I could make my way through in a few days. Really excited about this, so might read it after 'Ashenden' above.






'Surfacing' by Margaret Atwood was bought as a consequence of three things: I had Murakami and Safran Foer in hand, and thought I need to buy something by a girl; it is also slim, and the cover is the most dreamy, calming blue; a couple of years ago, I read David Lodge's 'Art of Fiction' and this book was given as an example of a successful present tense narrative.







'The Pale King' by David Foster Wallace was my fourth pick on Wednesday, as I feel I should have read something of his by now, and also it had an offer sticker that made it my 'get one free'. The blurb sounds good, so we'll see. Incidentally, I felt quite intellectual carrying it round the store :)







That's it for now I think; what are you reading?







Literature in Art, Part One: Yohji Yamamoto at the V&A

     Last week I went to one of my favorite places on earth - the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, the V&A for short - to see the retrospective exhibition of Yohji Yamamoto’s work that has been on show there since March. It was, as expected, beautiful and interesting, and put me much in mind of several writers, nuggets of literary history and distinctive literary styles, as things are apt to do.*