Guest Post: 'The Music Behind the Written Word' by Lenore Skomal

Today we have a guest post from Lenore Skomal, whose bio and new novel excerpt can be found at the bottom of this post. Take it away Lenore!

'Words can do exactly what music can: inspire, torture, and bend the human soul. But for me, the written word is often a product of the musical stimulation. And for all of the books I’ve written, I have listened to music while writing them.






Peirene Press 'Sea of Ink' Event

Yesterday I reviewed 'Sea of Ink' by Richard Weihe, a book kindly sent to me by Peirene Press. Even more kindly, they invited me to an event on Wednesday to promote the book, so I thought I'd write a small run-down of that too.

So, on Wednesday evening, my friend Abi and I went to the University of London's Germanic and Romance Studies Department, in the University's Library, to meet a beautifully select group of Peirene staff and supporters, the book's author, University representatives, representatives from the Swiss Embassy (!) and a few other book bloggers and general fans like me.

We mingled and drank wine provided by the Swiss Embassy - the first time the Swiss Embassy has bought me a drink, to the best of my recollection - and I had a lovely time chatting to Meike, Peirene's publisher, and Maddy, the Marketing Director, and it's clear that a whole lot of love, sweat and passion goes into producing each book from this small but talented team.

We were then treated to some dramatic readings of excerpts from the book  by actor Adam Venus, which author Richard Weihe went on to say was the first time he'd ever heard the English translation of his book read out loud. This was followed by Fabian Künzli, a young Swiss composer, responding musically to Adam Venus' readings of the text on the clarinet. Now, I don't know about you, but people do not respond musically often enough to things in my daily life, so I was really quite fascinated by the tender skill by which he played two pieces, 'The Lotus', an improvisation, and 'Petite Fleur', a Sidney Bechet jazz piece, in response to the text. Even to my limited musical mind, the music echoed the sentiments of the readings and illuminated the audience further about the mood and ambience of the work. 

You can actually hear it here, plus an excerpt of Adam Venus reading, Meike Ziervogel's discussion of the book and Richard Weihe discussing his inspiration and several key scenes from the book:

Questions were then taken from the audience, the most interesting of which was probably to do with the sympathetic qualities of the book's main character, Bada Shanren, or not, as the questioner saw it. After some thought, Richard and Meike came to the conclusion that this was never something that Richard thought of whilst writing the story - he just told the story - and postulated that needing a character to be sympathetic to connect to the story is a very 'Anglo-Saxon' thing. I'm not sure of my thoughts on this (are you?) but it was a fascinating thing to contemplate over a glass of wine in a beautiful book-filled room (contact the Research Librarian to find out about hiring it) on a warm and sunny Wednesday night.

Thanks again to Peirene Press for the invitation and see here for their list of upcoming events.







'Sea of Ink' by Richard Weihe

A lovely surprise popped through my letter box a few days ago: 'Sea of Ink' by Richard Weihe from the lovely people at Peirene (pronouced 'Pie-ree-nee') Press.

'Sea of Ink' is the first English translation of 'Meer der Tusche' which was published in Switzerland in 2005 and won the Prix des Auditeurs de la Radio Suisse Romande in the same year, and is about Bada Shanren, a 17th century Chinese painter who starts life as a member of the aristocracy, but goes on to take many guises (and different names!) whilst forging his own path through the creative and contemporary world. He becomes, to name a few, a monk, a madman, a father and a husband, so this book gives you a pretty thorough account of life at the time, although most of it is fiction as you can imagine that 17th century Chinese non-governmental sources are few and far between... Structurally, it is 51 short chapters arranged as a 118 page novella, the idea being across the Peirene range that you can read these little gems in an evening, or the same amount of time you might use to watch a film.

Rather than film time, it took me a bath and a train journey to delve through to the end, and a very calming and enjoyable read it was too.  I don't know if it's because Bada Shanren is a fairly serene figure or because the Chinese landscape is so poetically evoked, but I found this book to be a profound quiet spot in two quite busy days. The language is lovely, the tale is simply told and I loved that Weihe imagined the process of Bada Shanren painting his most famous pictures (I've included some below) and included the pictures also, so you can read the process of Bada Shanren painting his most famous pictures whilst tracing the lines with your eyes on the opposite page. The novella-length feature that is common to the whole Peirene series is inspired - what a nice feeling to zip quietly through a lovely book in two hours, a small interlude in the midst of my mammoth, if wildly satisfying 'A Suitable Boy' Readathon which is going to take me at least a month more yet :)

My only slight criticism might be to do with the translation - some of the sentences feel too short to let the mood really flow - but in large part it's excellent; the poetic eloquence of the story was conveyed very well by the translator, which after all is the most important thing.

As a side thing, it was a real novelty for me to pick up a book and not to have my attention grabbed immediately by the fellow author boosters and recommendations that normally wave from the cover and chatter through the first few pages, as if buying/borrowing a book wasn't even to imply interest and that we might still need convincing. I found it very refreshing to see a book and feel that the publishers had enough confidence in it to leave this off and say, yes, this book is good enough and brave enough to stand on its own. The cover is gorgeous too - taking the sum of its parts, it's a really lovely thing.

This book is actually one of the thematically linked trio of books that Peirene are publishing in 2012 - the others are 'The Murder of Halland' by Pia Juul and 'The Brothers' by Asko Sahlberg, comprising the 'Small Epics' series; 2011's series was 'Male Dilemma' and 2010's 'Female Voice'. All are European novels in translation, and most (if not all) were launched with a variety of literary salons and elegant evenings with the author attached, so Peirene seems to provide a very sophisticated and total experience. I'm excited. I actually own one of the books from the 'Female Voice' series although I have yet to read it, but I think I'll be bumping it up the series so I get to it soon. 

I thoroughly recommend this lovely, poetic book and actually attended a Peirene event last night where I met the author and saw someone respond to the text via the medium of clarinet (!), so check back tomorrow for my write-up of that! 

Title: Sea of Ink
Author: Richard Weihe
Publisher: Peirene Press
Date: September 2012
Format: Paperback, 118 pages, and it was a happily received ARC.

  





'Tolstoy: A Russian Life' by Rosamund Bartlett

'Tolstoy: A Russian Life' by Rosamund Bartlett was a Christmas present of mine that had been sitting around my home since January, looking so rich and informative that I kept passing it over for easier-looking books, probably because my job was requiring so much research of a similar ilk from me at the time. I'm glad I left it until I had some mental-room for it, as this book is very involving and hugely informative, if requiring of a little concentration to read all the way through.

I found Bartlett's writing both very clear and very illustrative of the Russian context, Tolstoy's friends, family and contemporaries, and of the great man himself. The narrative line was also very clear, making sense of Tolstoy's legendarily haphazard, passion-driven life, and it wasn't too difficult to keep track of who's who and how they relate to everyone else.

The most engaging parts for me were the sections in which he was writing Anna Karenina and War and Peace, partly because they're the works of his I know best, and also because Anna Karenina, in particular, gets to the heart of how Tolstoy viewed women and their contemporary role. He was a complicated chap, let's say. I was also thrilled to learnt that Tolstoy made huge, impressive efforts to build and reform educational practices for Russia's serf population, the vast majority of whom were illiterate, and he personally recorded and distributed some of the first statistical information on the living conditions of Russian peasants that was ever published. Of course, his dramatic shedding of possessions at the end of his life is well-known, but I was surprised to find out how early he began on this path, how he struggled and rebelled against the Russian Orthodox church because of it, and how 'Tolstoyans' were acknowledged throughout Russia, Europe and the US as proponents and followers of his neo-religious teachings. I was fascinated by the fact that his social and religious activism was largely suppressed and forgotten until Glasnost allowed its revival and acknowledgement over the last few decades.

As is acknowledged throughout this book, he was a paradoxical man who in many ways seemed to inhabit several lives at once, personifying Russia to an extraordinary degree. In fact, my main thoughts on this book post-read are two-fold: firstly, that Bartlett's achievement is quite momentous, considering the vast depth and breadth of the information to consider, and, secondly, that Tolstoy was rather a difficult man.

It struck me some way through this book that Tolstoy's character and idiosyncrasies bear a  striking resemblance to Charles Dickens's; in particular, his huge energy, socialist reformist missions and sadly, his unkindness to his wife. Both also neglected their families in favour of looking after the fortunes of the country at large, worrying about other people's families and children rather than their own. They could also both be remarkably unfeeling: for instance, Tolstoy's wife Sonya gave birth to 7 children AFTER telling Tolstoy that she'd had enough (by that point I think she'd had 5) (!!) as he refused to allow her an opinion on the subject; Dickens's domestic flaws are well-known enough for me not to have to go into them here. Both, I think it would be fair to say, were essential men for their time, but people you wanted to admire from afar, rather than live close to.

The failing of this book is the dryness of the subject which meant that, at times, it required quite a lot of motivation to keep reading; however, it is made clear that this is Tolstoy's failing, rather than Bartlett's:

'It is no wonder that Tolstoy saw himself in Rousseau [another comparison!], who had also lost his mother at a young age, and followed a number of different paths in his life before finding his metier. Both figures are united by a soaring genius, overweening vanity, a dogged, noble but often misguided sincerity, and a lamentable lack of a sense of humour, the latter being the single thing which sometimes makes the study of Tolstoy's life and works slightly hard-going.' (p76)

 So, the things to glean from this quote are that Tolstoy lacked a sense of humour, hence the dryness, and great male writers and philosophers often have several qualities in common, which I find simultaneously fascinating and depressing.

A good book, but one primarily for dedicated Tolstoy fans.

Title: Tolstoy: A Russian Life
Author: Rosamund Bartlett
Publisher: Profile Books
Date: 2011
Format: Paperback, 454 pages, plus notes and an index, and it was a gift.







'The Sisters Brothers' by Patrick deWitt

'The Sisters Brothers' by Patrick deWitt will now forever make me think of the tiny island of Sipan, a short ferry ride off the coast of Dubrovnik, Croatia, as I read the majority of this book in the two days we were there, back in June this year (I've written previously about an art gallery in Split from the same holiday), lazing happily in the sun. Croatia is not the most intuitive partner for this book, however, seeing as it is actually set in the US during the 1850s Gold Rush. It's also really good.

The story is that Eli and Charlie, the two Sisters brothers of the title, are hitmen on the trail of notorious prospector Hermann Kermit Warm (what a name!) through California, under the orders of the mercurial and untrustworthy Commodore. It's a classic Don Quixote/Odyssey type caper, with the inner journey at odds with the outer one and a whole load of unusual, charming and downright threatening characters  who you don't know whether to trust from one moment to the next. Eli is our narrator, and we find him increasingly sickened and disillusioned with the life he leads and the work that he does.

The humour of this book as a black as a pit of tar and in moments it's incredibly surreal and bemusing, but I felt that it veritably pulsed with verve and life. It's like not much else I've ever read either, which either means its rather original, or that my reading tastes have become too limited. Either way, this book was a refreshing break during my refreshing break, and I'd wholeheartedly recommend it.

Not that it's light reading though. The style is realist-surrealist-historical maybe (?), in that it has a historical setting, but is realist in a very modern way, whilst using the vernacular appropriate for the time, and is quite surreal, if that makes sense? Maybe if the Coen Brothers did a funny, free-wheeling, literary Western with a lot of dark humour, it might be a bit like this. There are a few particular instances of tooth-ache or horse illness or old crones casting spells that are downright disgusting, described with almost unbearable realist gore, that are also hugely compelling and memorable in a way that I almost wish they weren't, whilst the characters are complexly drawn and completely of their time. You just feel so bad for Eli, and confused about everyone else. I would never expect to find a noir Western so emotionally involving or so wholly creepy.

'Charlie's face had grown hard. 'This isn't your cabin, is it?'

At this she stiffened, and did not look to be breathing. She pulled back her rags, and in the firelight and lamplight I saw that she had almost no hair on her head, only white tufts here and there, and her skull was dented, appearing soft in places, pushed in like a piece of old fruit. 'Every heart has a tone,' she said to Charlie, 'just as every bell has one. Your heart's tone is most oppressive to hear, young man. It is hurtful to my ears, and your eyes hurt my eyes to look at them.'

A long silence followed with Charlie and the old witch simply staring at each other. I could not, from either of their expressions, understand what they were thinking. Eventually the woman rewrapped her skull and resumed her work, and Charlie lay down on the floor. I did not climb onto the bed, but lay down beside him, because I was frightened by the woman and thought it safest for us to sleep close together. I was so weak that despite my uneasiness I soon fell away into a dream state wherein I envisaged the room just as it was, thought I was standing by, watching my own sleeping body.'

This is a fab book and I kinda regret taking so long to read it after receiving it from the More4 TV Book Club at the beginning of the year. Here's Patrick deWitt himself talking about it to round things off, plus an excerpt from the show: 

Title: The Sisters Brothers

Author: Patrick deWitt

Publisher: Granta Books

Date: 2011

Format: Paperback, 325 pages, and I was sent it by Cactus TV/More4 TV Book Club.   





'A Suitable Boy' Readathon, No. 2

So, I'm a little behind on where I should be at this point in the 'A Suitable Boy' readathon (I've read 265 pages of the target 495) but I thought I'd sum up anyway at this one month point as I'm far enough through to have a good grasp on what it's about. There maybe a few spoilers in this review, FYI.

This book is a sweeping saga in the finest tradition, which is expressed not only in its length and revered reputation, but also in the fact that a wholly necessary set of four family trees sits at the beginning of the book to give you hope of keeping track of who everyone is. 

The book, as far as I've read anyway, centres around Lata Mehra, a Brahmpur student who is of marriageable age, which means her mother, the classic busybody martyr Mrs Rupa Mehra, is on a quest for find her that elusive 'suitable boy' of the title. Lata's not so keen and has other ideas anyway, which so far have included Kabir Durrani, a unacceptable Muslim boy who her mother packs her off to Calcutta to keep her from seeing. This central theme of suitable marriage is then extended out using vast tentacles through the book to reach all corners of the Mehra's extended family and circle of acquaintances: each section centres on a different branch of the family, or a different protagonist. Some of the marriages are presented as 'suitable', some are not; the epic scope of this novel seems to include types of metaphorical marriage in the definition, such as work relations, political relationships and the living 'marriage' of different religious and caste types that all seem to meet and clash in Brahmpur. I have a feeling that the conclusion we will come to is that no 'marriage' is perfect and that people must just learn to live together as best they can considering their circumstances, but there are a fair few pages to go (a meagre 1084) before we come to that point!

This novel is beautifully atmospheric and hugely evocative of India, which acts as both the platform and as an integral character of the novel. The characters are wonderfully drawn - Lata and Mahati are particular favourites of mine already, as is cheeky Maan - and I am already so involved with the majority of them and their own particular predicaments.

I'm enjoying it slightly less generally when it moves from the personal, e.g. Lata and the families, to the political: I am currently smack bang in the middle of the repercussions of the Misri Mandi riot, and although I can see how their discussion is integral to expressing the religious and caste tensions inherent in the story, I'm finding the characters and situations associated with this slightly less compelling. The writing throughout is excellent though - it's impressive how the quality is so consistent when there's just so much of it - and I feel in very safe hands. The pacing is also much quicker than you might expect for a novel of this size.

So, onwards! I'll report back next month, by which time I'll hopefully be around page 947... :)

Thoughts thus far from other Readathon participants:

Tiny Library

JoV's Book Pyramid

(I'll add the others as they publish)

Title: 'A Suitable Boy'

Author: Vikram Seth

Publisher: Phoenix House

Date: 1993

Format: Hardback, 1349 pages, and my copy is a library book.







Blogaversary Giveaway Winner!

To celebrate my two-year blogaversary last week , I announced a free giveaway of Ned Beauman's 'The Teleportation Accident', which I'm not ashamed to say I bought for the cover rather than any of the reviews or the Man Booker Prize long-listing.

I had lots of lovely entries and I'm pleased to announce that the winner is *drumroll please*:

Misha Mary!

(I used this random integer generator to pick the winner.)

Thanks to everyone who entered and look out for more giveaways on Tolstoy is my Cat soon!