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袙褗蟹锌谢邪屑械薪褟胁邪薪械
鈥炐愋� 褋褗屑 卸械薪邪, 懈蟹写懈谐薪邪褌邪 胁褗褉褏褍 芯褋褌邪薪泻懈褌械 芯褌 褋械斜械 褋懈鈥︹€�
小 邪胁褌械薪褌懈褔械薪 谐谢邪褋, 锌褍谢褋懈褉邪褖 芯褌 谐芯褉械褋褌, 褋 褔芯胁械褕泻邪 斜芯谢泻邪 懈 泻邪褌芯 屑懈薪邪胁邪 锌褉械蟹 褑褟谢邪褌邪 谐邪屑邪 薪邪 褔褍胁褋褌胁邪褌邪 (胁泻谢褞褔懈褌械谢薪芯 褋褗褋 褋褌褉褟褋泻邪褖芯 褔褍胁褋褌胁芯 蟹邪 褏褍屑芯褉), 械写薪邪 屑谢邪写邪 卸械薪邪 褉邪蟹泻邪蟹胁邪 蟹邪 蟹邪谐褍斜邪褌邪 薪邪 褋褗锌褉褍谐邪 褋懈 懈 薪械胁褉褗褋褌薪懈褟 懈屑 褋懈薪. 袧邪 褎芯薪邪 薪邪 谢懈褔薪邪褌邪 褌褉邪谐械写懈褟, 胁 懈褋褌芯褉懈褟褌邪 芯卸懈胁褟胁邪 袥芯薪写芯薪 鈥� 谐褉邪写褗褌, 泻芯泄褌芯 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 斜褗写械 褋褗褖懈褟褌 褋谢械写 芯锌褍褋褌芯褕懈褌械谢械薪 斜芯屑斜械薪 邪褌械薪褌邪褌. 袩芯谢懈褑械泄褋泻懈 褔邪褋, 锌邪薪懈泻邪, 斜邪褉邪卸薪懈 斜邪谢芯薪懈, 薪械锌褉械泻褗褋薪邪褌芯 泻褉褗卸邪褖懈 薪邪写 谐褉邪写邪 褏械谢懈泻芯锌褌械褉懈, 泻芯懈褌芯 薪械 写芯锌褍褋泻邪褌 写邪 褋械 蟹邪斜谢褍写懈褕 懈 蟹邪 屑懈谐, 褔械 胁芯写懈褕 薪芯褉屑邪谢械薪 卸懈胁芯褌 胁 薪邪褔邪谢芯褌芯 薪邪 21 胁械泻.
鈥炐捬娦沸啃恍靶夹敌窖徯残靶叫碘€� 械 泻薪懈谐邪 蟹邪 锌芯褋谢械写懈褑懈褌械 芯褌 褌械褉芯褉邪. 袟邪 胁蟹褉懈胁械薪邪褌邪 褑褟谢芯褋褌 薪邪 斜懈褌懈械褌芯. 袟邪 褌褗褉褋械薪械褌芯 薪邪 锌芯泻芯泄 懈 褋锌褉邪胁褟薪械褌芯 褋 褔褍胁褋褌胁芯褌芯 蟹邪 胁懈薪邪. 袧芯 褋褗褖芯 懈 蟹邪 薪械褋锌芯写械谢械薪懈褌械 斜芯谢泻懈 懈 锌芯褌懈褋泻邪薪懈褌械 褌褉邪胁屑懈 薪邪 械写薪芯 芯斜褖械褋褌胁芯, 胁 泻芯械褌芯 泻谢邪褋芯胁芯褌芯 褉邪蟹褋谢芯械薪懈械 褋褌邪胁邪 胁褋械 锌芯-褕芯泻懈褉邪褖芯. 鈥炐捬娦沸啃恍靶夹敌窖徯残靶叫碘€� 械 泻薪懈谐邪 蟹邪 褉邪蟹写械谢械薪懈械褌芯 薪邪 薪懈械 懈 胁懈械 鈥� 胁褗胁 褎褍褌斜芯谢邪, 胁 褉械谢懈谐懈褟褌邪, 胁 褉邪斜芯褌邪褌邪, 胁 懈屑邪薪械褌芯 懈 胁 薪褟屑邪薪械褌芯.
鈥炐毿恍感剐� 锌芯褋褌懈谐邪 薪械褖芯 褍写懈胁懈褌械谢薪芯. 袚械褉芯懈薪褟褌邪 屑褍 褖械 胁懈 褉邪蟹斜懈械 褋褗褉褑械褌芯 懈 褖械 胁懈 薪邪锌芯屑薪懈, 褔械 锌褉械写 谢懈褑械褌芯 薪邪 芯薪芯胁邪, 泻芯械褌芯 薪械 屑芯卸械屑 写邪 褋懈 芯斜褟褋薪懈屑 懈 泻芯械褌芯 械 懈蟹胁褗薪 薪邪褕懈褟 泻芯薪褌褉芯谢, 褔褍胁褋褌胁芯褌芯 蟹邪 褏褍屑芯褉 屑芯卸械 写邪 斜褗写械 褋锌邪褋懈褌械谢薪芯.鈥�
鈥� San Francisco Chronicle
袧邪谐褉邪写懈 懈 芯褌谢懈褔懈褟 蟹邪 褉芯屑邪薪邪:
鈥� Somerset Maugham Award 2006;
鈥� 褎懈薪邪谢懈褋褌 蟹邪 Commonwealth Writers Prize 2006;
鈥� 薪邪谐褉邪写邪 蟹邪 写械斜褞褌 薪邪 褖邪褌褋泻懈褟 泻谢褍斜 袣薪懈谐邪 薪邪 屑械褋械褑邪 2005;
鈥� 褋锌械褑懈邪谢薪邪褌邪 薪邪谐褉邪写邪 薪邪 卸褍褉懈褌芯 薪邪 Prix des Lecteurs 2007.
鈥炐捬娦沸啃恍靶夹敌窖徯残靶叫碘€� 械 屑械卸写褍薪邪褉芯写械薪 斜械褋褌褋械谢褗褉 懈蟹写邪写械薪 胁 薪邪写 20 褋褌褉邪薪懈, 褋褉械写 泻芯懈褌芯 袘褗谢谐邪褉懈褟, 袙械谢懈泻芯斜褉懈褌邪薪懈褟, 袚械褉屑邪薪懈褟, 袝褋褌芯薪懈褟, 袠褌邪谢懈褟, 袣邪薪邪写邪, 袩芯褉褌褍谐邪谢懈褟, 小袗些, 孝褍褉褑懈褟, 肖褉邪薪褑懈褟, 肖懈薪谢邪薪写懈褟, 啸芯谢邪薪写懈褟 懈 写褉.
袩褉械蟹 2008 谐. 懈蟹谢懈蟹邪 懈 褎懈谢屑芯胁邪褌邪 胁械褉褋懈褟 薪邪 泻薪懈谐邪褌邪. 袙 谐谢邪胁薪邪褌邪 褉芯谢褟 械 袦懈褕械谢 校懈谢褟屑褋, 锌邪褉褌薪懈褉邪褌 褲 挟褗薪 袦邪泻谐褉械谐褗褉 胁 褉芯谢褟褌邪 薪邪 袛卸邪褋锌褗褉 袘谢邪泻 懈 袦邪褌褞 袦邪泻褎械泄写褗薪 泻邪褌芯 孝械褉褗薪褋 袘褍褔褗褉.
小 邪胁褌械薪褌懈褔械薪 谐谢邪褋, 锌褍谢褋懈褉邪褖 芯褌 谐芯褉械褋褌, 褋 褔芯胁械褕泻邪 斜芯谢泻邪 懈 泻邪褌芯 屑懈薪邪胁邪 锌褉械蟹 褑褟谢邪褌邪 谐邪屑邪 薪邪 褔褍胁褋褌胁邪褌邪 (胁泻谢褞褔懈褌械谢薪芯 褋褗褋 褋褌褉褟褋泻邪褖芯 褔褍胁褋褌胁芯 蟹邪 褏褍屑芯褉), 械写薪邪 屑谢邪写邪 卸械薪邪 褉邪蟹泻邪蟹胁邪 蟹邪 蟹邪谐褍斜邪褌邪 薪邪 褋褗锌褉褍谐邪 褋懈 懈 薪械胁褉褗褋褌薪懈褟 懈屑 褋懈薪. 袧邪 褎芯薪邪 薪邪 谢懈褔薪邪褌邪 褌褉邪谐械写懈褟, 胁 懈褋褌芯褉懈褟褌邪 芯卸懈胁褟胁邪 袥芯薪写芯薪 鈥� 谐褉邪写褗褌, 泻芯泄褌芯 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 斜褗写械 褋褗褖懈褟褌 褋谢械写 芯锌褍褋褌芯褕懈褌械谢械薪 斜芯屑斜械薪 邪褌械薪褌邪褌. 袩芯谢懈褑械泄褋泻懈 褔邪褋, 锌邪薪懈泻邪, 斜邪褉邪卸薪懈 斜邪谢芯薪懈, 薪械锌褉械泻褗褋薪邪褌芯 泻褉褗卸邪褖懈 薪邪写 谐褉邪写邪 褏械谢懈泻芯锌褌械褉懈, 泻芯懈褌芯 薪械 写芯锌褍褋泻邪褌 写邪 褋械 蟹邪斜谢褍写懈褕 懈 蟹邪 屑懈谐, 褔械 胁芯写懈褕 薪芯褉屑邪谢械薪 卸懈胁芯褌 胁 薪邪褔邪谢芯褌芯 薪邪 21 胁械泻.
鈥炐捬娦沸啃恍靶夹敌窖徯残靶叫碘€� 械 泻薪懈谐邪 蟹邪 锌芯褋谢械写懈褑懈褌械 芯褌 褌械褉芯褉邪. 袟邪 胁蟹褉懈胁械薪邪褌邪 褑褟谢芯褋褌 薪邪 斜懈褌懈械褌芯. 袟邪 褌褗褉褋械薪械褌芯 薪邪 锌芯泻芯泄 懈 褋锌褉邪胁褟薪械褌芯 褋 褔褍胁褋褌胁芯褌芯 蟹邪 胁懈薪邪. 袧芯 褋褗褖芯 懈 蟹邪 薪械褋锌芯写械谢械薪懈褌械 斜芯谢泻懈 懈 锌芯褌懈褋泻邪薪懈褌械 褌褉邪胁屑懈 薪邪 械写薪芯 芯斜褖械褋褌胁芯, 胁 泻芯械褌芯 泻谢邪褋芯胁芯褌芯 褉邪蟹褋谢芯械薪懈械 褋褌邪胁邪 胁褋械 锌芯-褕芯泻懈褉邪褖芯. 鈥炐捬娦沸啃恍靶夹敌窖徯残靶叫碘€� 械 泻薪懈谐邪 蟹邪 褉邪蟹写械谢械薪懈械褌芯 薪邪 薪懈械 懈 胁懈械 鈥� 胁褗胁 褎褍褌斜芯谢邪, 胁 褉械谢懈谐懈褟褌邪, 胁 褉邪斜芯褌邪褌邪, 胁 懈屑邪薪械褌芯 懈 胁 薪褟屑邪薪械褌芯.
鈥炐毿恍感剐� 锌芯褋褌懈谐邪 薪械褖芯 褍写懈胁懈褌械谢薪芯. 袚械褉芯懈薪褟褌邪 屑褍 褖械 胁懈 褉邪蟹斜懈械 褋褗褉褑械褌芯 懈 褖械 胁懈 薪邪锌芯屑薪懈, 褔械 锌褉械写 谢懈褑械褌芯 薪邪 芯薪芯胁邪, 泻芯械褌芯 薪械 屑芯卸械屑 写邪 褋懈 芯斜褟褋薪懈屑 懈 泻芯械褌芯 械 懈蟹胁褗薪 薪邪褕懈褟 泻芯薪褌褉芯谢, 褔褍胁褋褌胁芯褌芯 蟹邪 褏褍屑芯褉 屑芯卸械 写邪 斜褗写械 褋锌邪褋懈褌械谢薪芯.鈥�
鈥� San Francisco Chronicle
袧邪谐褉邪写懈 懈 芯褌谢懈褔懈褟 蟹邪 褉芯屑邪薪邪:
鈥� Somerset Maugham Award 2006;
鈥� 褎懈薪邪谢懈褋褌 蟹邪 Commonwealth Writers Prize 2006;
鈥� 薪邪谐褉邪写邪 蟹邪 写械斜褞褌 薪邪 褖邪褌褋泻懈褟 泻谢褍斜 袣薪懈谐邪 薪邪 屑械褋械褑邪 2005;
鈥� 褋锌械褑懈邪谢薪邪褌邪 薪邪谐褉邪写邪 薪邪 卸褍褉懈褌芯 薪邪 Prix des Lecteurs 2007.
鈥炐捬娦沸啃恍靶夹敌窖徯残靶叫碘€� 械 屑械卸写褍薪邪褉芯写械薪 斜械褋褌褋械谢褗褉 懈蟹写邪写械薪 胁 薪邪写 20 褋褌褉邪薪懈, 褋褉械写 泻芯懈褌芯 袘褗谢谐邪褉懈褟, 袙械谢懈泻芯斜褉懈褌邪薪懈褟, 袚械褉屑邪薪懈褟, 袝褋褌芯薪懈褟, 袠褌邪谢懈褟, 袣邪薪邪写邪, 袩芯褉褌褍谐邪谢懈褟, 小袗些, 孝褍褉褑懈褟, 肖褉邪薪褑懈褟, 肖懈薪谢邪薪写懈褟, 啸芯谢邪薪写懈褟 懈 写褉.
袩褉械蟹 2008 谐. 懈蟹谢懈蟹邪 懈 褎懈谢屑芯胁邪褌邪 胁械褉褋懈褟 薪邪 泻薪懈谐邪褌邪. 袙 谐谢邪胁薪邪褌邪 褉芯谢褟 械 袦懈褕械谢 校懈谢褟屑褋, 锌邪褉褌薪懈褉邪褌 褲 挟褗薪 袦邪泻谐褉械谐褗褉 胁 褉芯谢褟褌邪 薪邪 袛卸邪褋锌褗褉 袘谢邪泻 懈 袦邪褌褞 袦邪泻褎械泄写褗薪 泻邪褌芯 孝械褉褗薪褋 袘褍褔褗褉.
252 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2005
261 people are currently reading
8,632 people want to read
About the author
Chris Cleave
28听books3,234听followersChris Cleave was born in London and spent his early years in Cameroon. He studied experimental psychology at Balliol College, Oxford. His debut novel, INCENDIARY, won a 2006 Somerset Maugham Award, was shortlisted for the 2006 Commonwealth Writers' Prize, and is now a feature film. His second novel, LITTLE BEE, is a New York Times #1 bestseller with over 2 million copies in print. GOLD is his third novel. He lives in London with his wife and three children. Chris Cleave enjoys dialogue with his readers and invites all comers to introduce themselves on Twitter; he can be found at or on his website at
Q & A
What was your favourite childhood book?
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by CS Lewis
Which book has made you laugh?
Great Lies to Tell Small Kids by Andy Riley
Which book has made you cry?
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
What are your top five books of all time, in order or otherwise?
Mrs. Dalloway (Woolf)
Germinal (Zola)
Voyage au Bout de la Nuit (C茅line)
The Road (McCarthy)
100 Years of Solitude (Garcia M谩rquez)
What is your favourite word?
"Nooba". It's a word peculiar to my family, although I can't remember where it came from or which of my kids coined it. To "do the nooba" is to muck around when you're supposed to be going to sleep. As in, "Stop doing the nooba, boo-boo, it's way past your bedtime." I like it because you can only say it with a smile.
Which fictional character would you most like to have met?
Sally Seton, Clarissa Dalloway's childhood companion, when we were all young.
Is there a particular book or author that inspired you to be a writer?
Definitely. In my teens it was Milan Kundera who made me realise how exciting it would be to write, and Primo Levi who made me realise how important it was, and Tibor Fischer who made me suspect the whole thing would be fun.
Q & A
What was your favourite childhood book?
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by CS Lewis
Which book has made you laugh?
Great Lies to Tell Small Kids by Andy Riley
Which book has made you cry?
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
What are your top five books of all time, in order or otherwise?
Mrs. Dalloway (Woolf)
Germinal (Zola)
Voyage au Bout de la Nuit (C茅line)
The Road (McCarthy)
100 Years of Solitude (Garcia M谩rquez)
What is your favourite word?
"Nooba". It's a word peculiar to my family, although I can't remember where it came from or which of my kids coined it. To "do the nooba" is to muck around when you're supposed to be going to sleep. As in, "Stop doing the nooba, boo-boo, it's way past your bedtime." I like it because you can only say it with a smile.
Which fictional character would you most like to have met?
Sally Seton, Clarissa Dalloway's childhood companion, when we were all young.
Is there a particular book or author that inspired you to be a writer?
Definitely. In my teens it was Milan Kundera who made me realise how exciting it would be to write, and Primo Levi who made me realise how important it was, and Tibor Fischer who made me suspect the whole thing would be fun.
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August 1, 2024
There are several major elements to Incendiary, the wonderful book Chris Cleave wrote well before he became known for Little Bee.
First a tough, working-class, London mom loses her bomb-squad husband and four-year-old son when terrorists bomb a packed soccer stadium, suffering injuries herself in attempting to find them immediately after the event. The unnamed narrator has to decide whether life is worth living. Her grief, and PTSD is manifest in hallucinations. She sees her dead son with increasing frequency and clarity as the story progresses.
Chris Cleave - from The Telegraph
Her life is complicated. She sees a well-to-do, but very confused and conflicted journalist who is smitten with her, then later a high-ranking cop with whom she works. She suffers an identity crisis, allowing herself to be re-shaped by others, trying on personae in attempting to figure out who she is after the trauma.
Second, Cleave wrote this novel in a six-week marathon after the 2004 Madrid bombings, but before the 2005 bombings in London. Part of what he presents is his vision of how the UK might respond if faced with a major terrorist attack. We can look back from 2020 to see what he might have missed and what he got right.
Third is Cleave鈥檚 portrayal of class in Britain. The book is filled with the tension of working-class people in almost alien worlds alongside their own. Examples abound
This is a very engaging story. I was hooked from the first, and read it quite fast. I truly felt for this wounded mother. How would I feel if my mate and one or all of my children had been taken away so harshly? There are times in the book when one would be well-advised to keep the Kleenex handy. And there are others when Cleave gives us reason to laugh out loud. I have one significant gripe with the book. I thought Cleave went way too far with his ending. It seemed forced to me. But that aside, the journey, which makes up the bulk here, is very well worth the time.
Review first posted in 2012
=============================EXTRA STUFF
Links to the author鈥檚 , and pages
First a tough, working-class, London mom loses her bomb-squad husband and four-year-old son when terrorists bomb a packed soccer stadium, suffering injuries herself in attempting to find them immediately after the event. The unnamed narrator has to decide whether life is worth living. Her grief, and PTSD is manifest in hallucinations. She sees her dead son with increasing frequency and clarity as the story progresses.
Chris Cleave - from The Telegraph
Her life is complicated. She sees a well-to-do, but very confused and conflicted journalist who is smitten with her, then later a high-ranking cop with whom she works. She suffers an identity crisis, allowing herself to be re-shaped by others, trying on personae in attempting to figure out who she is after the trauma.
Second, Cleave wrote this novel in a six-week marathon after the 2004 Madrid bombings, but before the 2005 bombings in London. Part of what he presents is his vision of how the UK might respond if faced with a major terrorist attack. We can look back from 2020 to see what he might have missed and what he got right.
It鈥檚 an ugly war and there鈥檚 no honour in it. But we will win because we have to. It鈥檚 a war we win by ditching our principles. By interning people who are high risk. By listening to private phone calls.The narrator offers counterpoints with sympathy for the Muslims she knows, hard-working people like herself, a danger to no one.
Third is Cleave鈥檚 portrayal of class in Britain. The book is filled with the tension of working-class people in almost alien worlds alongside their own. Examples abound
Tessa comes with rather a lot of baggage. Breeding. Family money. The people who have it aren鈥檛 like you and me. They鈥檒l be polite enough to you. But try to get too close and they鈥檒l put back the distance. Try to step inside their circle and they鈥檒l close ranks. Us and them are not the same species. Don鈥檛 make the same mistake I made. Don鈥檛 ever get involved with the upper classes.While Cleave shines a bright light on class differences, he takes pains not to idealize anyone. London, post attack, puts up barrage balloons around the city, familiar from World War II, useful for forcing incoming aircraft to higher altitudes, their steel cables a disincentive to low-level flight. The balloons in this story bear the images of people lost in what is called the May Day attack.
They hadn鈥檛 chosen very nice people for the balloons round Hyde Park anyway. The faces were mostly fat blokes who looked like they could tuck the pints away. They were the sort of blokes who鈥檇 call each other by nicknames like oi Baz and oi Todger, and you could imagine them pinching your bum at a New Year鈥檚 Eve party. Saying How about it darling? It was funny seeing those dead fat blokes 500 feet up in the air saving us from kamikazes. It might have been the first decent thing they鈥檇 done in their lives most of them.There is a shortage of punctuation in the novel. It enhances Cleave鈥檚 characterization of his narrator as a less than well-educated person. He even notes it, with a nod and a wink, when she is looking at a job possibility with the police.
You might need to type up incident reports from time to time. They read like SUSPECT WAS APPREHENDED AT 0630 WIELDING A SHARPENED SPOON. That stuff needs commas like Covent Garden needs a gardener. Anyway we鈥檙e not writing literature here. We鈥檙e trying to stop people bombing people.The story takes place over the course of a year, with book sections for each of the seasons, as the narrator comes through a full cycle of change to arrive where she does at the end. The format is of a sort of epistolary novel. The narrator does not actually write letters to Osama bin Laden, but speaks as if she were, addressing him throughout her tale, decrying his actions, particularly sharing her pain at the loss of her son.
This is a very engaging story. I was hooked from the first, and read it quite fast. I truly felt for this wounded mother. How would I feel if my mate and one or all of my children had been taken away so harshly? There are times in the book when one would be well-advised to keep the Kleenex handy. And there are others when Cleave gives us reason to laugh out loud. I have one significant gripe with the book. I thought Cleave went way too far with his ending. It seemed forced to me. But that aside, the journey, which makes up the bulk here, is very well worth the time.
Review first posted in 2012
=============================EXTRA STUFF
Links to the author鈥檚 , and pages
December 20, 2009
UGH!! This is horrible! Trying to read it is like banging your head against a concrete pillar. You should only do it for the feeling of relief when you finally decide to stop.
I read about 30 pages and I can't take any more. The narrator is an obsessive---the kind who alphabetizes everything in her kitchen cupboards and freezer...and then goes one level deeper and alphabetizes within the alphabetization!
This entire "Dear Osama" story is written in that obsessive fashion. Annoying details repeated ad nauseum. Her husband and son were killed in a London terrorist attack, and she has to tell you again and again that her son was "4 years and 3 months old." Like that...
The East End slang totally lost me. Include a glossary, for pity's sake. I don't want to jump up and visit urban dictionary every time I read something like "on the khazi." WTF? I now know that "khazi" is British slang for toilet. That's what I got from the book.
If you liked Little Bee, don't assume you'll like Incendiary. Thass all ah'm sayin'.
I read about 30 pages and I can't take any more. The narrator is an obsessive---the kind who alphabetizes everything in her kitchen cupboards and freezer...and then goes one level deeper and alphabetizes within the alphabetization!
This entire "Dear Osama" story is written in that obsessive fashion. Annoying details repeated ad nauseum. Her husband and son were killed in a London terrorist attack, and she has to tell you again and again that her son was "4 years and 3 months old." Like that...
The East End slang totally lost me. Include a glossary, for pity's sake. I don't want to jump up and visit urban dictionary every time I read something like "on the khazi." WTF? I now know that "khazi" is British slang for toilet. That's what I got from the book.
If you liked Little Bee, don't assume you'll like Incendiary. Thass all ah'm sayin'.
April 20, 2019
Original, entertaining, authentic and believable
An East End [of London:] woman decides to write a letter to Osama bin Laden after a team of his suicide bombers wreck her life by indiscriminately blowing up the crowd at a football match, killing both her husband and her four-and-a-quarter year-old son, along with over a thousand other football fans.
The letter is written, mainly in the authentic language of an East End gal, but with snippets of people from other worlds. The grammar and punctuation is appalling, but it is totally in context. She relates, to Osama, all of the events and all of her feelings from immediately before the atrocity to many months afterwards.
There is a lot of humour interspersed throughout the tragedy. One of the funniest passages that I have read recently will not spoil your enjoyment of this book.
It didn鈥檛 smell posh in Harvey Nichols it smelled of all the different perfumes in the world very strong and mixed up together. It felt like having your throat scraped. I took my boy into John Lewis once and it smelled just like that in the perfume section. Yuk Mummy he said. It smells nice and nasty all at once. It smells of angels' feet.
Hilarious!
I can understand why some people do not like this style of writing and cannot get into the book at all. This is a book that you will either love or hate. It is either one star or five stars plus plus. I cannot tell what it will be like for you, but I would recommend that you give it a chance. For me, it was one of the best books that I read in 2009.
An East End [of London:] woman decides to write a letter to Osama bin Laden after a team of his suicide bombers wreck her life by indiscriminately blowing up the crowd at a football match, killing both her husband and her four-and-a-quarter year-old son, along with over a thousand other football fans.
The letter is written, mainly in the authentic language of an East End gal, but with snippets of people from other worlds. The grammar and punctuation is appalling, but it is totally in context. She relates, to Osama, all of the events and all of her feelings from immediately before the atrocity to many months afterwards.
There is a lot of humour interspersed throughout the tragedy. One of the funniest passages that I have read recently will not spoil your enjoyment of this book.
It didn鈥檛 smell posh in Harvey Nichols it smelled of all the different perfumes in the world very strong and mixed up together. It felt like having your throat scraped. I took my boy into John Lewis once and it smelled just like that in the perfume section. Yuk Mummy he said. It smells nice and nasty all at once. It smells of angels' feet.
Hilarious!
I can understand why some people do not like this style of writing and cannot get into the book at all. This is a book that you will either love or hate. It is either one star or five stars plus plus. I cannot tell what it will be like for you, but I would recommend that you give it a chance. For me, it was one of the best books that I read in 2009.
July 26, 2019
Wow, just wow! This book just blew me away literally. It was one of those books that you love to hate but the realism, the pathos, the fear is brought out on every single page. Perhaps this book had such an impact because I am a native New Yorker who lived and worked a mere fifteen miles away from ground zero. I remember the panic, the sorrow, the intense feeling of both grief and despair as if that event occurred yesterday.
The author has revived that feeling of intense loss and the way a mind can operate after such a loss. He has made it real again, though he does change the location, he does not change the way humanity reacts to the taking of innocent lives. Eerily true to life this book was released on the same day of the London bombings.
I see many have hated this book. I think it is a scary, scary book, one that smacks the reader right in the headlights with the realism that terrorism in all its forms makes us into the kind of humans we were never destined to be, it causes women to lose husbands and sons, men to lose mothers and wives, and children, poor children to lose their innocence.
While the conclusion of the book is unnerving, the understanding that there might be one sliver of goodness in a terrorist's heart may be its most redeeming quality. Can we ever forget or forgive those who have wantonly killed innocents because of their cause? Can the Bin Ladens of the world ever be more than the most despised people by those whose lives they have taken away? Can a mother ever forget this loss of her child? Can we as humans ever go beyond hate?
The author has revived that feeling of intense loss and the way a mind can operate after such a loss. He has made it real again, though he does change the location, he does not change the way humanity reacts to the taking of innocent lives. Eerily true to life this book was released on the same day of the London bombings.
I see many have hated this book. I think it is a scary, scary book, one that smacks the reader right in the headlights with the realism that terrorism in all its forms makes us into the kind of humans we were never destined to be, it causes women to lose husbands and sons, men to lose mothers and wives, and children, poor children to lose their innocence.
While the conclusion of the book is unnerving, the understanding that there might be one sliver of goodness in a terrorist's heart may be its most redeeming quality. Can we ever forget or forgive those who have wantonly killed innocents because of their cause? Can the Bin Ladens of the world ever be more than the most despised people by those whose lives they have taken away? Can a mother ever forget this loss of her child? Can we as humans ever go beyond hate?
June 4, 2020
Wow. I'm really not sure how I feel about this book. I want to say it's unrealistic but it's not and that's scary. I want to say it's funny, and it is in a very sad way. And I want to say it's sad and it is but in a funny way. Each time I put it down I wanted to pick it up again and continue reading. Strangely compelling.
January 23, 2008
Chris Cleave, Incendiary (Knopf, 2005)
Dear Osama,
With these two words, Chris Cleave kicks off his powerful novel Incendiary, and you know it's not going to be something you've seen before. And indeed it is not. The entire thing is written by the unnamed protagonist in a letter to Osama bin-Laden after al-Qaeda bombed a stadium during a big match, taking the lives of her husband and son. She tries to make a go of life afterwards, but while she never explicitly asks the question, it's embedded in every word: how does one regain one's own sanity when the entire world has gone crazy?
The first, and perhaps biggest, thing to note here is that, as it's written as a letter, the entire book is in the voice of the protagonist, who is not terribly well-educated and eschews the use of commas. Twenty-five pages into this book, I was sure I was going to offer it up as a sacrifice to the gods of reading by lighting it on fire and tossing it into a random trash can, but I got used to the narrative style pretty quickly after that. Once you've fallen into the rhythm of the prose, the story itself is gripping-- our narrator is trying to get on with her life, just as England is, and the two are often compared to one another between the lines as a measuring stick, making sure we've got the idea in the back of our heads that the end of the book is a given. (And Cleave doesn't fail us, though we don't get exactly what we think we're going to.) A startling, and excellent, piece of work, this. ****
Dear Osama,
With these two words, Chris Cleave kicks off his powerful novel Incendiary, and you know it's not going to be something you've seen before. And indeed it is not. The entire thing is written by the unnamed protagonist in a letter to Osama bin-Laden after al-Qaeda bombed a stadium during a big match, taking the lives of her husband and son. She tries to make a go of life afterwards, but while she never explicitly asks the question, it's embedded in every word: how does one regain one's own sanity when the entire world has gone crazy?
The first, and perhaps biggest, thing to note here is that, as it's written as a letter, the entire book is in the voice of the protagonist, who is not terribly well-educated and eschews the use of commas. Twenty-five pages into this book, I was sure I was going to offer it up as a sacrifice to the gods of reading by lighting it on fire and tossing it into a random trash can, but I got used to the narrative style pretty quickly after that. Once you've fallen into the rhythm of the prose, the story itself is gripping-- our narrator is trying to get on with her life, just as England is, and the two are often compared to one another between the lines as a measuring stick, making sure we've got the idea in the back of our heads that the end of the book is a given. (And Cleave doesn't fail us, though we don't get exactly what we think we're going to.) A startling, and excellent, piece of work, this. ****
September 20, 2012
OK, Cleave. It's officially over for us. You are a man on a mission, a guy who tries to pass himself off as clever but is merely gimmicky, a man who attempts pathos and ends up mawkish. BLARGH. Here, in no particular order, are the things I can't stand in novels, in general, and applied to this one, in specific:
1. Letters that magically, somehow, have perfectly remembered dialogues and long plot driven descriptions that no one would ever write.
It's not only lazy but impossible to believe. The whole time I am reading I am distracted by the 'oh wait, right, this is a terror victim's letter to Osama (yank those heart strings! Yank yank!) so I better slap in the name Osama where it is least relevant so as to remind you folks at home that that is my gimmick! Smooth, Cleave.
Which brings me to:
2. Yanking heart strings novels.
This falls into the category alongside Books About Kids With Cancer and Other Bad Diseases, Books About the Holocaust, and Books About Orphans. It's cheap, just like having a really long letter as your format. So of course how could I not feel for a woman who lost her son and husband to a senseless bombing, right? Except when the author tries REALLY REALLY hard to get you to feel that by employing all kinds of tricks. Also she was REALLY not likable. Which brings me to:
3. Remembering that you need your characters to be multi dimensional so you add in some random not so ok behavior so you can pat yourself on the back.
Said character has attitude, and not in a charming way. She represents the working class in London and you can all feel offended by this representation. Her smart mouth was annoying and her love for her family felt as forced as the times she did not feel that love, all the more dwarfed by the Big Catastrophe which brings me to:
4. Books that Ride on the Coat Tails of Actual Tragedies so as to Beef Up Their Lousy Rendition of Same.
Hello, Cleave? 9/11 called. It wants its sanctity back.
He basically rips off the smoke and chaos of a real act of terror and attempts to draw upon that in his stupid football game bombing, and not only does it feel cheap and wrong, but he then turns this event (based on an actual event) into something resembling satire (ok yeah THAT'S a great idea) as in, "Oh we can't be having Muslims working, even the ones who aren't religious. Well we can have the cab drivers but not anyone who might fly a plane." It's hard to put it exactly but as I was reading the "unraveling of London" as based on NYC part, it kept feeling like the lady in The Help who really, really wanted you to see how wrong everyone else was by exaggerating everything. I am not saying Muslims didn't get a lot of unfair backlash but I am saying that truth needs to read as truth, not your agenda driven attempt at getting me to react to something.
I read about as much of this as I could, and at that point it was not only offensive but actually ridiculous with characters who were over the top such that nothing could be taken seriously. MOVING ON.
1. Letters that magically, somehow, have perfectly remembered dialogues and long plot driven descriptions that no one would ever write.
It's not only lazy but impossible to believe. The whole time I am reading I am distracted by the 'oh wait, right, this is a terror victim's letter to Osama (yank those heart strings! Yank yank!) so I better slap in the name Osama where it is least relevant so as to remind you folks at home that that is my gimmick! Smooth, Cleave.
Which brings me to:
2. Yanking heart strings novels.
This falls into the category alongside Books About Kids With Cancer and Other Bad Diseases, Books About the Holocaust, and Books About Orphans. It's cheap, just like having a really long letter as your format. So of course how could I not feel for a woman who lost her son and husband to a senseless bombing, right? Except when the author tries REALLY REALLY hard to get you to feel that by employing all kinds of tricks. Also she was REALLY not likable. Which brings me to:
3. Remembering that you need your characters to be multi dimensional so you add in some random not so ok behavior so you can pat yourself on the back.
Said character has attitude, and not in a charming way. She represents the working class in London and you can all feel offended by this representation. Her smart mouth was annoying and her love for her family felt as forced as the times she did not feel that love, all the more dwarfed by the Big Catastrophe which brings me to:
4. Books that Ride on the Coat Tails of Actual Tragedies so as to Beef Up Their Lousy Rendition of Same.
Hello, Cleave? 9/11 called. It wants its sanctity back.
He basically rips off the smoke and chaos of a real act of terror and attempts to draw upon that in his stupid football game bombing, and not only does it feel cheap and wrong, but he then turns this event (based on an actual event) into something resembling satire (ok yeah THAT'S a great idea) as in, "Oh we can't be having Muslims working, even the ones who aren't religious. Well we can have the cab drivers but not anyone who might fly a plane." It's hard to put it exactly but as I was reading the "unraveling of London" as based on NYC part, it kept feeling like the lady in The Help who really, really wanted you to see how wrong everyone else was by exaggerating everything. I am not saying Muslims didn't get a lot of unfair backlash but I am saying that truth needs to read as truth, not your agenda driven attempt at getting me to react to something.
I read about as much of this as I could, and at that point it was not only offensive but actually ridiculous with characters who were over the top such that nothing could be taken seriously. MOVING ON.
August 9, 2011
After Little Bee, I had high hopes for Incendiary. Unfortunately, Chris Cleave left me disappointed. Unfortunately, Incendiary seems more like an outlandish dark daydream than anything real. For instance, she throws up on Prince William. Really? Really. I understand what Cleave was trying to do here, but no part of it seemed real. The entire time I thought I was reading some middle schooler's attempt to be a dark and gruesome author. With the middle schooler you pat him on the back, at least he's trying. But Cleave? How can I help but no roll my eyes. It wasn't believable. And in an age where terrorism is so real, this all just felt like some poorly feigned disaster.
Besides for the story feeling incredibly fake, I also had a problem with the story's structure. This woman is drafting a note to Osama Bin Laden, and surely has never used a punctuation mark other than a period in her life. While some stories can benefit from a character's unique linguistic style, this was just distracting. And couldn't help but make me think- lazy.
Now the overall concept was nice. Terrorism, loss, survival. I liked that aspect. I also really liked the character's guilt for the affair she was having while her family was dying- I wish that could have been played out more.
I think this book failed at what it tried to be. The concept had potential, but its execution was terrible.
Besides for the story feeling incredibly fake, I also had a problem with the story's structure. This woman is drafting a note to Osama Bin Laden, and surely has never used a punctuation mark other than a period in her life. While some stories can benefit from a character's unique linguistic style, this was just distracting. And couldn't help but make me think- lazy.
Now the overall concept was nice. Terrorism, loss, survival. I liked that aspect. I also really liked the character's guilt for the affair she was having while her family was dying- I wish that could have been played out more.
I think this book failed at what it tried to be. The concept had potential, but its execution was terrible.
March 1, 2010
wow. i buy the book at the miami airport and start reading at takeoff. fifteen minutes later, my mouth is literally hanging open with shock. a three hour flight to nyc feels like six seconds and i race home to finish the book that night. i read and loved little bee (chris cleave's 2008 novel) and i have been an ardent and faithful word-of-mouther for the last year, pushing it onto the bookshelves of anyone who will hear me out. i don't think love is the right word for my reaction to incendiary. temporary obsession is more apt. basically you meet the protagonist in a waking sleep and a few chapters later, you are hurled into a dark, painfully uncomfortable downward spiral. one that starts with a stunning description of terrorism, muggy infidelity, charred flesh and limbs that are blown apart in slo-motion and continues with a guilt that drowns you and a loneliness that picks through your dry bones. i won't go into the plot because it's already listed, but i will say that incendiary will make you hold your loved ones tight.
April 15, 2018
A chilling debut novel presented in an unfamiliar epistolary format: a letter to Osama bin Laden by one of his victims, narrated to read like a first person novel.
Our unknown narrator is a working class woman whose husband is a policeman in the bomb disposal unit. She is highly strung and suffers OCD due to the pressures of her husband鈥檚 job. Her remedy for nerves is extra marital sex, whenever and wherever she can find it, while hubby is away diffusing bombs at all hours of the night. She falls in with Jasper, an upper-class journalist who is engaged to Petra, a dead ringer for our narrator in looks, but a ruthlessly ambition journalist in her own right. While our narrator is engaged in hard core sex with Jasper in her living room one afternoon, the blaring TV reveals the blowing up of the nearby stadium where her husband and four-year year-old son are attending the much heralded Arsenal-Chelsea soccer match. The guilt and the loss of loved ones during her act of transgression will never leave her. Nor does it seem to leave other Londoners exposed to the explosion. Everyone starts behaving badly. Rich boys take to cocaine, rich girls go shopping, and poor girls just try to get on with it, although they start seeing their dead relatives everywhere.
Our narrator, in her grieving and addled state, next takes up with a police superintendent who was her dead husband鈥檚 boss, and finds out that the explosion was a known one to the authorities, but it was allowed to happen in order to avert a much larger act of terrorism in London; preventing the soccer match explosion would have prematurely sent the perpetrators into hiding. This discovery leads to many conflicted emotions in our narrator: a sense of betrayal by her country鈥檚 politicians, a sense of revulsion towards her new lover, and a craving for revenge to release the little ghost of the four-year old boy who is now following her everywhere. Things come to a head when Petra acts in her own self-centred way, and the cocaine-riddled Jasper decides to take matters into his shaky hands.
The book is full of irony: the narrator鈥檚 sexual climax coming just as the stadium explodes; the husband planning to transfer out of the bomb squad only to go out the day before to a soccer match and be killed by a bomb; the narrator falling in love with the superintendent only to find out that he has 鈥渒nown鈥� all along; the narrator aspiring for Petra鈥檚 social standing as much as Petra seeks to emulate the narrator in order to win Jasper鈥檚 affections; a bomb scare leading to deaths caused by various factors other than the exploding of bombs themselves; the blatant fact that civilized London and its denizens are no more civilized than the desert-hiding Osama and his gang鈥攊t only takes a bomb and the breakdown of social order to reveal the similarities between the two civilizations.
The style is epistolary and conversational: the narrator is having a conversation with Osama throughout the narrative. She doesn鈥檛 hate him for what he has done to her family, but sees a kinship with him through her loss. In fact, she would like to live with Osama. She is a representation of London: 鈥渁 city built on the wreckage of itself, too ignorant to know when it is finished.鈥� All that said, it is hard to ignore the stark madness that these acts of terrorism reduce civilized society to, and our raving lunatic of a narrator remains a good example of that.
Our unknown narrator is a working class woman whose husband is a policeman in the bomb disposal unit. She is highly strung and suffers OCD due to the pressures of her husband鈥檚 job. Her remedy for nerves is extra marital sex, whenever and wherever she can find it, while hubby is away diffusing bombs at all hours of the night. She falls in with Jasper, an upper-class journalist who is engaged to Petra, a dead ringer for our narrator in looks, but a ruthlessly ambition journalist in her own right. While our narrator is engaged in hard core sex with Jasper in her living room one afternoon, the blaring TV reveals the blowing up of the nearby stadium where her husband and four-year year-old son are attending the much heralded Arsenal-Chelsea soccer match. The guilt and the loss of loved ones during her act of transgression will never leave her. Nor does it seem to leave other Londoners exposed to the explosion. Everyone starts behaving badly. Rich boys take to cocaine, rich girls go shopping, and poor girls just try to get on with it, although they start seeing their dead relatives everywhere.
Our narrator, in her grieving and addled state, next takes up with a police superintendent who was her dead husband鈥檚 boss, and finds out that the explosion was a known one to the authorities, but it was allowed to happen in order to avert a much larger act of terrorism in London; preventing the soccer match explosion would have prematurely sent the perpetrators into hiding. This discovery leads to many conflicted emotions in our narrator: a sense of betrayal by her country鈥檚 politicians, a sense of revulsion towards her new lover, and a craving for revenge to release the little ghost of the four-year old boy who is now following her everywhere. Things come to a head when Petra acts in her own self-centred way, and the cocaine-riddled Jasper decides to take matters into his shaky hands.
The book is full of irony: the narrator鈥檚 sexual climax coming just as the stadium explodes; the husband planning to transfer out of the bomb squad only to go out the day before to a soccer match and be killed by a bomb; the narrator falling in love with the superintendent only to find out that he has 鈥渒nown鈥� all along; the narrator aspiring for Petra鈥檚 social standing as much as Petra seeks to emulate the narrator in order to win Jasper鈥檚 affections; a bomb scare leading to deaths caused by various factors other than the exploding of bombs themselves; the blatant fact that civilized London and its denizens are no more civilized than the desert-hiding Osama and his gang鈥攊t only takes a bomb and the breakdown of social order to reveal the similarities between the two civilizations.
The style is epistolary and conversational: the narrator is having a conversation with Osama throughout the narrative. She doesn鈥檛 hate him for what he has done to her family, but sees a kinship with him through her loss. In fact, she would like to live with Osama. She is a representation of London: 鈥渁 city built on the wreckage of itself, too ignorant to know when it is finished.鈥� All that said, it is hard to ignore the stark madness that these acts of terrorism reduce civilized society to, and our raving lunatic of a narrator remains a good example of that.
January 6, 2022
"That is the nature of this madness. It fills the sky with barrage balloons and people's eyes with hate."
Incendiary is, at least nominally an epistolary novel. An unnamed working-class woman living in London is writing a letter to Osama bin Laden after her husband and young son, along with a thousand other people, are killed in a "9-11"-type terrorist attack at a Premiership football match. The letter writer watched the mayhem unfold live on the television whilst a neighbour, a man that she barely knew, was busy having sex with her. Not surprisingly, the woman is deeply affected by the deaths, not only does she feel sorrow she also feels guilty and is looking for some sort of catharsis.
The book is divided into four parts, one for each of the four seasons. It turns out she only began writing to Osama in 'Winter', but she tells her story chronologically, beginning in 'Spring'.
This book takes reader on a wild journey of satire. The narrator is far from a perfect wife and mother. She is tidy, but gets nervous when her bomb-disposal husband is called out on a shout and she leaves her four year old son home alone whilst she goes out seeking comfort in the arms of other men.
I loved the first half of this book. I found the woman's emotions raw and touching. Cleave wonderfully evokes not only the horror of the actual event but the knee-jerk responses that the authorities make on civil liberties after the event to supposedly deter further attacks.
Unfortunately this strong start is let down by the second half when it suddenly becomes more about class; a tale of manipulative toffs exploiting an uncultured innocent. I found yuppie Jasper and his equally posh girlfriend Petra, both of them journalists for the Sunday Telegraph, so poorly drawn that they never rose to become anything other than cliches. Worst of all Osama, the person that is supposedly being addressed in the letter, largely disappears for long stretches. Consequently the book becomes less about terrorism and the toll it takes on individuals and more about class conflict in modern Britain.
For a novel about terrorism there is very little suspense. Cleave shows a nice touch when a nurse is suspended from her job because she is a Muslim and therefore might pose a security risk but he doesn't follow it through. Likewise when the narrator learns that the authorities knew about 'May Day' attack beforehand but chose let it happen anyway Cleave seems to have no idea how to exploit it fully. In the age of the internet and video streaming the idea that people would take such explosive information to the papers where it can easily be suppressed is frankly ridiculous.
That said and done some of the writing is really good, I found the woman's voice mesmerizing and I continually turned the page to see what would happen next. However I do think that this is a book of two halves, Cleave either got his thinking muddled or simply ran out of ideas perhaps. This book could have been about grief and people's ability to survive devastating loss or been a really conspiracy theory, dystopian loaded novel but does neither. In the end Cleave backs the wrong horse in class. A great opportunity missed IMHO.
Incendiary is, at least nominally an epistolary novel. An unnamed working-class woman living in London is writing a letter to Osama bin Laden after her husband and young son, along with a thousand other people, are killed in a "9-11"-type terrorist attack at a Premiership football match. The letter writer watched the mayhem unfold live on the television whilst a neighbour, a man that she barely knew, was busy having sex with her. Not surprisingly, the woman is deeply affected by the deaths, not only does she feel sorrow she also feels guilty and is looking for some sort of catharsis.
The book is divided into four parts, one for each of the four seasons. It turns out she only began writing to Osama in 'Winter', but she tells her story chronologically, beginning in 'Spring'.
This book takes reader on a wild journey of satire. The narrator is far from a perfect wife and mother. She is tidy, but gets nervous when her bomb-disposal husband is called out on a shout and she leaves her four year old son home alone whilst she goes out seeking comfort in the arms of other men.
I loved the first half of this book. I found the woman's emotions raw and touching. Cleave wonderfully evokes not only the horror of the actual event but the knee-jerk responses that the authorities make on civil liberties after the event to supposedly deter further attacks.
Unfortunately this strong start is let down by the second half when it suddenly becomes more about class; a tale of manipulative toffs exploiting an uncultured innocent. I found yuppie Jasper and his equally posh girlfriend Petra, both of them journalists for the Sunday Telegraph, so poorly drawn that they never rose to become anything other than cliches. Worst of all Osama, the person that is supposedly being addressed in the letter, largely disappears for long stretches. Consequently the book becomes less about terrorism and the toll it takes on individuals and more about class conflict in modern Britain.
For a novel about terrorism there is very little suspense. Cleave shows a nice touch when a nurse is suspended from her job because she is a Muslim and therefore might pose a security risk but he doesn't follow it through. Likewise when the narrator learns that the authorities knew about 'May Day' attack beforehand but chose let it happen anyway Cleave seems to have no idea how to exploit it fully. In the age of the internet and video streaming the idea that people would take such explosive information to the papers where it can easily be suppressed is frankly ridiculous.
That said and done some of the writing is really good, I found the woman's voice mesmerizing and I continually turned the page to see what would happen next. However I do think that this is a book of two halves, Cleave either got his thinking muddled or simply ran out of ideas perhaps. This book could have been about grief and people's ability to survive devastating loss or been a really conspiracy theory, dystopian loaded novel but does neither. In the end Cleave backs the wrong horse in class. A great opportunity missed IMHO.
January 5, 2021
孝邪蟹懈 懈褋褌芯褉懈褟 薪邪锌褉邪胁芯 屑懈 芯褌胁褟 谐谢邪胁邪褌邪! 袪芯屑邪薪褗褌 械 械写薪芯 写褗谢谐芯 锌懈褋屑芯 泻褗屑 袨褋邪屑邪 斜懈薪 袥邪写械薪 芯褌 屑谢邪写邪 卸械薪邪 芯褌 褉邪斜芯褌薪懈褔械褋泻邪褌邪 泻谢邪褋邪, 泻芯褟褌芯 谐褍斜懈 褋褗锌褉褍谐邪 褋懈 懈 屑邪谢泻懈褟 褋懈 褋懈薪 胁 褌械褉芯褉懈褋褌懈褔械薪 邪褌械薪褌邪褌 胁 袥芯薪写芯薪. 袣褉懈褋 袣谢懈泄胁 蟹邪锌芯褔胁邪 写邪 锌懈褕械 "袙褗蟹锌谢邪屑械薪褟胁邪薪械" 褋谢械写 斜芯屑斜械薪懈褌械 邪褌邪泻懈 胁 袦邪写褉懈写 锌褉械蟹 2004 谐芯写懈薪邪. 袟邪 褋褗卸邪谢械薪懈械 芯褌褌芯谐邪胁邪 薪邪褋邪屑 褌械屑邪褌邪 褋褌邪胁邪 胁褋械 锌芯-邪泻褌褍邪谢薪邪. 袠 胁褗锌褉械泻懈 褔械 锌芯胁械褔械褌芯 褏芯褉邪 褍褋锌褟胁邪褌 写邪 蟹邪斜褉邪胁褟褌 薪芯胁懈薪邪褉褋泻懈褌械 蟹邪谐谢邪胁懈褟 褋谢械写 胁褉械屑械, 蟹邪 斜谢懈蟹泻懈褌械 薪邪 卸械褉褌胁懈褌械 卸懈胁芯褌褗褌 薪懈泻芯谐邪 锌芯胁械褔械 薪械 械 褋褗褖懈褟褌. 袣邪泻 褋械 褔褍胁褋褌胁邪褌 褌械, 屑芯卸械屑 褋邪屑芯 写邪 褋懈 锌褉械写褋褌邪胁褟屑械. 袠谢懈 写邪 锌褉芯褔械褌械屑 褌邪蟹懈 泻薪懈谐邪 懈 写邪 褍褋械褌懈屑 褋 褑褟谢芯褌芯 褋懈 褋褗褖械褋褌胁芯 谐薪械胁邪, 泻芯泄褌芯 械 锌褉芯褋屑褍泻邪薪 胁褗胁 胁褋褟泻邪 械写薪邪 泻谢械褌泻邪 懈 褋懈谢邪褌邪, 泻芯褟褌芯 褌褉褟斜胁邪 写邪 薪邪屑械褉懈褕 胁 褋械斜械 褋懈, 蟹邪 写邪 锌褉芯写褗谢卸懈褕 薪邪锌褉械写. 袟邪褖芯褌芯 蟹邪 芯褑械谢械谢懈褌械 卸懈胁芯褌褗褌 锌褉芯写褗谢卸邪胁邪. 袠 泻邪泻褌芯 泻邪蟹胁邪 谐谢邪胁薪邪褌邪 谐械褉芯懈薪褟: "校斜懈泄 屑械 褋 斜芯屑斜懈褌械 褋懈, 泻芯锌械谢械薪褑械 薪械褖邪褋褌薪芯, 懈 邪蟹 褋邪屑邪 褖械 锌芯褋褌褉芯褟 芯褌薪芯胁芯 褋械斜械 褋懈 芯褖械 锌芯-褋懈谢薪邪. 孝胁褗褉写械 谐谢褍锌邪胁邪 褋褗屑, 蟹邪 写邪 薪邪锌褉邪胁褟 写褉褍谐芯. 袗蟹 褋褗屑 卸械薪邪, 懈蟹写懈谐薪邪褌邪 胁褗褉褏褍 芯褋褌邪薪泻懈褌械 芯褌 褋械斜械 褋懈."
March 11, 2010
I loved Chris Cleave鈥檚 Little Bee, so when my husband learned that I was meeting a friend in a bookstore, he told me I should look for Cleave鈥檚 first book Indendiary and see if I鈥檇 like that too. So I looked.
Pages of compliments to the author at the start of a book do tend to have a bad effect on me. By the time I鈥檇 found the first page of writing, my bookstore coffee was cold. I almost wrote the novel off as artsy and not my style but then I stopped and read again. And I was thoroughly hooked.
The novel starts as a letter: 鈥淒ear Osama.鈥� But the correspondent鈥檚 no great politician, no stop-at-nothing soldier or truth-telling journalist, not even priest or a cleric, but rather a very ordinary Londoner mourning her dead boy and telling her tale.
And what a tale. Incendiary is haunting, mesmerizing even. Yet, despite its topic, it鈥檚 also laugh-out-loud funny. When a neighbor in the high-class Wellington Estate tells the woman he thinks she鈥檚 鈥渧ery real,鈥� she responds that no-one鈥檚 ever said that before, probably because they thought it so 鈥渂leeding obvious.鈥� But all the characters in this novel are heart-breakingly real, even Mr. Rabbit whose constant presence haunts and holds it together.
Of course, I鈥檓 English. There are places and names that I know as I sink into my chair and into the tale. I鈥檓 comfortable. I recognize this voice. But suddenly that quiet world falls spectacularly and totally apart. The author goes where others might justifiably fear to tread and creates something powerfully terrifying and horribly plausible.
Betrayal is such a simple word. We use it in so many ways. But one betrayal does not equal another, and Chris Cleave鈥檚 novel has a depth and honesty that leaves the reader crying, not just for the dead boy, but for all the hopes and dreams that die in everyday betrayals, and for a world that might well be all too real, but really can鈥檛 be trusted.
Incendiary is a masterpiece, just like Little Bee, and highly recommended.
Pages of compliments to the author at the start of a book do tend to have a bad effect on me. By the time I鈥檇 found the first page of writing, my bookstore coffee was cold. I almost wrote the novel off as artsy and not my style but then I stopped and read again. And I was thoroughly hooked.
The novel starts as a letter: 鈥淒ear Osama.鈥� But the correspondent鈥檚 no great politician, no stop-at-nothing soldier or truth-telling journalist, not even priest or a cleric, but rather a very ordinary Londoner mourning her dead boy and telling her tale.
And what a tale. Incendiary is haunting, mesmerizing even. Yet, despite its topic, it鈥檚 also laugh-out-loud funny. When a neighbor in the high-class Wellington Estate tells the woman he thinks she鈥檚 鈥渧ery real,鈥� she responds that no-one鈥檚 ever said that before, probably because they thought it so 鈥渂leeding obvious.鈥� But all the characters in this novel are heart-breakingly real, even Mr. Rabbit whose constant presence haunts and holds it together.
Of course, I鈥檓 English. There are places and names that I know as I sink into my chair and into the tale. I鈥檓 comfortable. I recognize this voice. But suddenly that quiet world falls spectacularly and totally apart. The author goes where others might justifiably fear to tread and creates something powerfully terrifying and horribly plausible.
Betrayal is such a simple word. We use it in so many ways. But one betrayal does not equal another, and Chris Cleave鈥檚 novel has a depth and honesty that leaves the reader crying, not just for the dead boy, but for all the hopes and dreams that die in everyday betrayals, and for a world that might well be all too real, but really can鈥檛 be trusted.
Incendiary is a masterpiece, just like Little Bee, and highly recommended.
December 25, 2017
One-sitting read!
Very unique plot!
A woman talking with Osama bin Ladin before & after the death of her husband and son and blaming him for the London attack but the reality was something else. She keep on discussing afterwards each event of her life with him.
I have mixed feelings regarding this book. ahhh Amazing some parts while few things are repeatedly discussed which bored me.
All & all very different and interesting book.
Very unique plot!
A woman talking with Osama bin Ladin before & after the death of her husband and son and blaming him for the London attack but the reality was something else. She keep on discussing afterwards each event of her life with him.
I have mixed feelings regarding this book. ahhh Amazing some parts while few things are repeatedly discussed which bored me.
All & all very different and interesting book.
May 26, 2019
"袙褗蟹锌谢邪屑械薪褟胁邪薪械" 斜械褕械 芯褋褌褗褉 蟹邪胁芯泄 锌芯 褔懈褌邪褌械谢褋泻懈褟 屑懈 屑邪褉褕褉褍褌 - 薪械褖芯 泻邪褌芯 懈屑锌褍谢褋懈胁薪邪 芯褌斜懈胁泻邪 芯褌 蟹芯薪邪褌邪 屑懈 薪邪 泻芯屑褎芯褉褌, 薪芯 褋械 锌褉械胁褗褉薪邪 胁 械写懈薪 芯褌 薪邪泄-胁锌械褔邪褌谢褟胁邪褖懈褌械 褉芯屑邪薪懈, 泻芯懈褌芯 褋褗屑 褔械谢邪.
孝芯蟹懈 褉芯屑邪薪 胁褗蟹写械泄褋褌胁邪 械写薪芯胁褉械屑械薪薪芯 芯蟹谢芯斜褟胁邪褖芯, 薪芯 懈 褋屑懈褉褟胁邪褖芯 懈 芯褌褉械蟹胁褟胁邪褖芯. 袝蟹懈泻褗褌 薪邪 袣谢懈泄胁 械 褋褍褉芯胁, 卸懈谢邪胁, 褋械锌胁邪褖, 卸懈胁 懈 锌褍谢褋懈褉邪褖.
"袙褗蟹锌谢邪屑械薪褟胁邪薪械" 械 蟹谢芯胁械褖 锌褉芯褉芯褔械褋泻懈 褉芯屑邪薪, 褋斜褗写薪邪褌邪 邪薪褌懈褍褌芯锌懈褟 (胁 写械薪褟, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 懈蟹谢懈蟹邪 芯褌 锌械褔邪褌, 袥芯薪写芯薪 械 褉邪蟹褌褉械褋械薪 芯褌 褌械褉芯褉懈褋褌懈褔薪懈 邪褌邪泻懈), 胁 泻芯泄褌芯 械写薪邪 屑邪泄泻邪, 蟹邪谐褍斜懈谢邪 屑褗卸邪 懈 写械褌械褌芯 褋懈 蟹邪褉邪写懈 褌械褉芯褉懈褋褌懈褔薪邪 邪褌邪泻邪 薪邪 褎褍褌斜芯谢械薪 褋褌邪写懈芯薪, 懈蟹谢懈胁邪 褑褟谢邪褌邪 薪邪褋褗斜褉邪薪邪 谐芯褉褔懈谢泻邪 胁 锌懈褋屑芯 薪械 写芯 泻芯谐芯 写邪 械, 邪 写芯 褋邪屑懈褟 袨褋邪屑邪 斜懈薪 袥邪写械薪.
袧芯 邪泻芯 芯褔邪泻胁邪褌械, 褔械 褌芯胁邪 褖械 械 锌芯褉械写薪邪褌邪 懈褋褌芯褉懈褟 蟹邪 "写芯斜褉懈褌械 懈 谢芯褕懈褌械", 蟹邪 锌褉械泻褉邪褋薪芯褌芯 褋械屑械泄褋褌胁芯, 褉邪蟹斜懈褌芯 芯褌 蟹谢芯褌芯, 芯褌 谐芯谢褟屑邪褌邪 薪械锌褉邪胁写邪 懈 褌褉邪谐械写懈褟, 褌芯胁邪 薪械 械 胁邪褕邪褌邪 泻薪懈谐邪. 袟邪褖芯褌芯 胁 薪械褟 "写芯斜褉懈褌械" 锌褉芯褋褌芯 芯褌褋褗褋褌胁邪褌. 孝邪蟹懈 泻薪懈谐邪 锌褉械写褋褌邪胁褟 褔芯胁械泻邪 胁 褑褟谢邪褌邪 锌邪谢懈褌褉邪 芯褌 薪褞邪薪褋懈 薪邪 械屑芯褑懈懈褌械, 锌芯谐褉械褕薪懈褌械 懈蟹斜芯褉懈, 褋锌芯薪褌邪薪薪懈褌械 褉械褕械薪懈褟 懈 薪械芯斜褟褋薪懈屑懈 锌褉芯褟胁谢械薪懈褟.
袩芯泻邪蟹胁邪 褋褗褖芯 褌邪泻邪 械写薪芯 蟹谢芯胁械褖芯, 写械褎芯褉屑懈褉邪薪芯 谢懈褑械 薪邪 袥芯薪写芯薪, 泻芯械褌芯 褋械 泻褉懈械 锌芯写 褑懈胁懈谢懈蟹邪褑懈芯薪薪芯褌芯 斜褍谢芯 薪邪 胁械泻芯胁薪芯 谢懈褑械屑械褉懈械, 褋薪芯斜褋泻懈 锌芯褉褟写泻懈 懈 泻谢邪褋芯胁懈 斜械蟹写薪懈. 袙 谐谢邪胁邪褌邪 屑懈 懈蟹薪懈泻薪邪 芯斜褉邪蟹褗褌 芯褌 褋褌邪褉懈褌械 褎懈谢屑懈 薪邪 械写懈薪 锌芯褌褗薪邪谢 胁 泻邪谢, 谢芯泻胁懈 懈 褌械卸泻芯 蟹谢芯胁芯薪懈械 谐褉邪写, 懈蟹 泻芯泄褌芯 褋薪芯胁邪褌 锌谢褗褏芯胁械 懈 斜褗褉蟹芯 褋械 褕屑褍谐胁邪褌 懈蟹 泻邪薪邪谢懈蟹邪褑懈芯薪薪懈褌械 褕邪褏褌懈.
校褋械褖邪薪械褌芯 蟹邪 斜械蟹薪邪写械卸写薪芯褋褌 褋械 褍褋懈谢胁邪 芯褌 褔械谢薪懈褟 褋斜谢褗褋褗泻 褋 懈褋褌懈薪邪褌邪 蟹邪 褌械褉芯褉懈褋褌懈褔薪懈褌械 邪褌邪泻懈 懈 褏芯褉邪褌邪, 泻芯懈褌芯 褋械 斜芯褉褟褌 褋褉械褖褍 褌褟褏. 袣芯谢泻芯 褋褌褉褍胁邪 胁褋褗褖薪芯褋褌 褔芯胁械褕泻懈褟褌 卸懈胁芯褌? 袨锌褉邪胁写邪薪懈 谢懈 褋邪 褏懈谢褟写邪 卸械褉褌胁懈, 邪泻芯 械胁械薪褌褍邪谢薪芯 褋谢械写 褌芯胁邪 褋褌芯褌懈褑懈 褏懈谢褟写懈 屑芯谐邪褌 写邪 斜褗写邪褌 褋锌邪褋械薪懈? 袣芯泄 褉械褕邪胁邪 褌芯胁邪 懈 泻邪泻 褋械 卸懈胁械械 褋 褌邪泻芯胁邪 褉械褕械薪懈械?
袠蟹泻谢褞褔懈褌械谢薪芯 屑邪泄褋褌芯褉褋泻芯 懈蟹谐褉邪卸写邪薪械 薪邪 芯褋薪芯胁薪懈褌械 锌械褉褋芯薪邪卸懈 芯褌 袣褉懈褋 袣谢懈泄胁. 孝芯谢泻芯胁邪 锌谢褗褌薪芯 懈 褍斜械写懈褌械谢薪芯 锌褉械写褋褌邪胁褟薪械 薪邪 褔芯胁械褕泻懈 褏邪褉邪泻褌械褉懈 懈 锌芯胁械写械薪懈械 芯褌 写芯褋褌邪 胁褉械屑械 薪械 斜褟褏 褋褉械褖邪谢邪 胁 褉芯屑邪薪.
袦邪泄泻邪褌邪 械 薪械薪邪蟹芯胁邪薪邪 蟹邪 褉邪蟹谢懈泻邪 芯褌 写褉褍谐懈褌械 芯褋薪芯胁薪懈 锌械褉褋芯薪邪卸懈. 袧械泄薪邪褌邪 斜芯谢泻邪 械 褋褗斜懈褉邪褌械谢薪芯 薪邪 胁褋懈褔泻懈, 懈蟹锌懈褌胁邪褖懈 胁懈薪邪褌邪 薪邪 "芯褋褌邪薪邪谢懈褟 卸懈胁", 褔懈泄褌芯 卸懈胁芯褌 械 褉邪蟹斜懈褌 薪邪 锌邪褉褔械薪褑邪 褋褗褖芯 泻邪泻褌芯 褌褉褍锌芯胁械褌械 薪邪 卸械褉褌胁懈褌械 芯褌 泻褗褉胁邪胁懈褟 邪褌械薪褌邪褌. 袙 械锌懈褋褌芯谢邪褉薪邪 褎芯褉屑邪 褌褟 褉邪蟹泻邪蟹胁邪 卸懈胁芯褌邪 褋懈 - 蟹邪 卸械薪褋泻芯褌芯 褋懈 芯斜褗褉泻胁邪薪械 懈 薪械褍写芯胁谢械褌胁芯褉械薪芯褋褌 芯褌 褌褉褍写薪懈褟 胁褋械泻懈写薪械胁械薪 卸懈胁芯褌; 芯褌 薪械褉邪胁薪懈褌械 胁褗蟹屑芯卸薪芯褋褌懈 屑械卸写褍 褉邪蟹谢懈褔薪懈褌械 泻谢邪褋懈 胁 袥芯薪写芯薪; 芯褌 斜懈褌芯胁懈蟹屑邪, 泻芯泄褌芯 蟹邪写褍褕邪胁邪 胁 褏胁邪褌泻邪褌邪 褋懈 懈 薪邪泄-写芯斜褉懈褟 斜褉邪泻; 芯褌 胁械褔薪芯褌芯 褔邪泻邪薪械 薪邪 屑褗卸邪 褋懈 芯褌 薪芯褖薪懈 褋屑械薪懈; 芯褌 褋斜谢褗褋褗泻邪 褋 薪械谐芯胁邪褌邪 锌褉懈褋褌褉邪褋褌械薪芯褋褌 泻褗屑 褏邪蟹邪褉褌邪 懈 锌芯褋褌芯褟薪薪邪 褍屑芯褉邪, 锌褉械褉邪褋褌胁邪褖邪 胁 邪锌邪褌懈褟 懈 芯褌褔褍卸写械薪懈械; 芯褌 谢褗褔邪 褋胁械褌谢懈薪邪, 写邪褉褟胁邪薪 褲 芯褌 屑邪谢泻芯褌芯 褲 屑芯屑褔械薪褑械, 谐褍褕薪邪谢芯 褋胁芯褟 锌谢褞褕械薪 蟹邪械泻, 泻芯泄褌芯 芯褋褌邪胁邪 械写懈薪褋褌胁械薪芯褌芯 褲 褋锌邪褋懈褌械谢薪芯 胁褗卸械 褋褉械写 褋邪屑芯褌邪褌邪.
袠 褌芯谐邪胁邪 懈蟹胁械写薪褗卸 懈写胁邪 芯薪褟 屑芯屑械薪褌 薪邪 褋谢邪斜芯褋褌 懈 褍褟蟹胁懈屑芯褋褌, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 蟹邪 屑懈谐 懈蟹锌褍褋泻邪褕 泻芯谢芯胁芯蟹邪 懈 泻褉懈胁胁邪褕 胁褋褌褉邪薪懈, 邪 锌芯褋谢械 胁褉褗褖邪薪械 薪邪蟹邪写 薪褟屑邪. 袨褌泻褉懈胁邪褕 懈蟹屑邪屑薪芯 芯斜械褖邪薪懈械 蟹邪 谢邪褋泻邪, 褌芯锌谢懈薪邪, 胁薪懈屑邪薪懈械 懈 胁褋褗褖薪芯褋褌 锌褉芯褋褌芯 械写薪邪 芯斜懈泻薪芯胁械薪邪 薪芯褉屑邪谢薪芯褋褌 胁 芯褌薪芯褕械薪懈褟褌邪, 泻芯褟褌芯 褌芯谢泻芯胁邪 褌懈 械 谢懈锌褋胁邪谢邪, 懈 锌褉芯褋褌芯 褲 褋械 芯褌写邪胁邪褕. 孝芯胁邪 褋械 褋谢褍褔胁邪 薪邪 褋褌芯褌懈褑懈 褏芯褉邪 胁褋械泻懈 写械薪. 袣邪泻胁芯 褌芯谢泻芯胁邪 蟹谢芯 懈 薪械锌芯锌褉邪胁懈屑芯 屑芯卸械 写邪 写芯薪械褋械? 袠 胁 褋褗褖懈褟 褌芯蟹懈 屑懈谐, 胁 泻芯泄褌芯 屑懈屑芯谢械褌薪邪褌邪 蟹邪斜褉邪胁邪 褌械 芯褌泻褗褋胁邪 芯褌 薪邪褖褗褉斜械薪邪褌邪 褉械邪谢薪芯褋褌 褋 薪械泄薪懈褌械 芯褋褌褉懈 褉褗斜芯胁械, 褋械 褋谢褍褔胁邪 薪械芯斜褉邪褌懈屑芯褌芯, 褋谢械写 泻芯械褌芯 胁械褔械 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 褋懈 褋褗褖懈褟褌, 薪芯 褖械 褌褉褟斜胁邪 写邪 褋械 薪邪褍褔懈褕 写邪 卸懈胁械械褕 褋 薪械谐芯, 胁褗锌褉械泻懈 薪械谐芯 懈 蟹邪褉邪写懈 薪械谐芯. 袟邪褖芯褌芯 褖械 褋械 芯泻邪卸械, 褔械 懈屑械薪薪芯 褌芯 褌械 械 薪邪褍褔懈谢芯 写邪 卸懈胁械械褕 懈褋褌懈薪褋泻懈, 写邪 写懈褕邪褕 褋 锌褗谢薪邪 谐褉褗写, 写邪 褍蟹褉械械褕 蟹邪 懈褋褌懈薪邪褌邪 懈 写邪 褋械 褋锌褉邪胁懈褕 褋 薪械褟, 懈 薪邪泄-胁械褔械 写邪 褋懈 锌褉芯褋褌懈褕 懈 写邪 芯锌懈褌邪褕 芯褌薪芯胁芯!
袩褉芯褔械褌械褌械 褌芯蟹懈 褉芯屑邪薪 薪邪 袣褉懈褋 袣谢懈泄胁! 袣薪懈谐邪褌邪 械 褌械卸泻邪, 褌褉褍写薪邪 懈 斜芯谢械蟹薪械薪芯 芯褌泻褉芯胁械薪邪, 薪芯 褋械 褔械褌械 谢械泻芯 懈 褍胁谢懈褔邪 褌邪泻邪, 褔械 薪械 屑芯卸械褌械 写邪 褟 芯褋褌邪胁懈褌械, 胁褗锌褉械泻懈 褔械 薪邪 屑械褋褌邪 薪邪懈褋褌懈薪邪 胁懈 褋械 懈褋泻邪 斜褍泻胁邪谢薪芯 写邪 褟 蟹邪褏胁褗褉谢懈褌械 芯褌 芯屑械褉蟹械薪懈械.
袙 褌芯胁邪 械 懈褋褌懈薪褋泻芯褌芯 屑邪泄褋褌芯褉褋褌胁芯 薪邪 袣谢懈泄胁 懈 薪邪 斜械蟹褍锌褉械褔薪懈褟 锌褉械胁芯写 薪邪 袧械胁械薪邪 袛懈褕谢懈械胁邪-袣褉褗褋褌械胁邪! 袩芯褉械写薪芯褌芯 蟹邪谐谢邪胁懈械 胁 泻邪褌邪谢芯谐邪 薪邪 ICU, 懈蟹写褗褉卸邪薪芯 薪邪 胁褋懈褔泻懈 薪懈胁邪!
"袩褉械写懈 写邪 胁蟹褉懈胁懈褕 屑芯屑褔械薪褑械褌芯 屑懈 袨褋邪屑邪 胁懈薪邪谐懈 褋褗屑 褋懈 屑懈褋谢械谢邪 褔械 械泻褋锌谢芯蟹懈褟褌邪 械 械写薪芯泻褉邪褌械薪 邪泻褌 薪芯 胁械褔械 蟹薪邪屑. 袨褌胁褗薪 锌谢邪屑褗泻褗褌 褍谐邪褋胁邪 屑薪芯谐芯 斜褗褉蟹芯 薪芯 芯谐褗薪褟褌 锌褉芯锌褗谢蟹褟胁邪 胁褗褌褉械 胁 褌械斜 懈 褌褉褟褋褗泻褗褌 芯褋褌邪胁邪 写邪 泻褗薪褌懈 蟹邪胁懈薪邪谐懈. 袣芯谢泻芯褌芯 懈 写邪 褋懈 蟹邪锌褍褕胁邪褕 褍褕懈褌械 褋 写谢邪薪懈 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 谐芯 蟹邪谐谢褍褕懈褕. 袩芯卸邪褉褗褌 锌褉芯写褗谢卸邪胁邪 写邪 斜褍褕褍胁邪 褋 薪械胁褗芯斜褉邪蟹懈屑 谐褉芯褏芯褌 懈 薪邪褋褌褗褉胁械薪懈械. 袗 薪邪泄-褋褌褉邪薪薪芯褌芯 械 褔械 写芯 褌械斜 胁 屑械褌褉芯褌芯 屑芯卸械 写邪 褋褌芯褟褌 褏芯褉邪 懈 写邪 薪械 褔褍褟褌 薪懈褖懈褔泻芯. 袞懈胁械褟 胁 锌褗泻褗谢邪 懈 褌褉械锌械褉褟 芯褌 褋褌褍写 袨褋邪屑邪. 孝芯蟹懈 卸懈胁芯褌 械 芯谐谢褍褕懈褌械谢械薪 谐褉芯褏芯褌 薪芯 褟 褋械 蟹邪褋谢褍褕邪泄. 些械 褔褍械褕 泻邪泻 锌邪写邪 泻邪褉褎懈褑邪."
"袦芯卸械 写邪 褌懈 褋械 褋褌褉褍胁邪 褋屑械褕薪芯 袨褋邪屑邪 薪芯 写邪 蟹薪邪械褕 褔械 薪褟屑邪 泻邪泻 写邪 懈蟹褑械写懈褕 懈 锌芯褋谢械写薪邪褌邪 泻邪锌泻邪 谐芯褉写芯褋褌 芯褌 褔芯胁械泻. 袚芯褉写芯褋褌褌邪 械 泻邪褌芯 锌邪褋褌邪 蟹邪 蟹褗斜懈. 袦芯卸械 写邪 褋屑邪褔泻邪褕 褌褍斜懈褔泻邪褌邪 薪芯 胁褗褌褉械 胁懈薪邪谐懈 芯褋褌邪胁邪 屑邪谢泻芯 薪邪谢懈 褌邪泻邪?"
(笑械谢懈褟褌 褉芯屑邪薪 械 薪邪锌懈褋邪薪 斜械蟹 蟹邪锌械褌邪懈. 小锌芯褉械写 屑械薪, 芯褌 械写薪邪 褋褌褉邪薪邪, 泻邪褌芯 斜械谢械谐 蟹邪 褌芯胁邪, 褔械 谐谢邪胁薪邪褌邪 谐械褉芯懈薪褟 械 褋褉械写薪芯褋褌邪褌懈褋褌懈褔械褋泻邪 屑邪泄泻邪 芯褌 褉邪斜芯褌薪懈褔械褋泻邪褌邪 泻谢邪褋邪, 薪械 芯褋芯斜械薪芯 谐褉邪屑芯褌薪邪, 邪 芯褌 写褉褍谐邪 - 蟹邪 写邪 蟹胁褍褔懈 薪邪褉邪褌懈胁褗褌 泻邪褌芯 斜械蟹泻褉邪械薪 薪懈蟹 芯褌 斜芯谢泻邪, 屑褗泻邪 懈 谐薪褟胁, 胁 泻芯泄褌芯 薪褟屑邪褕 胁褉械屑械 懈 褋懈谢懈 写邪 褋锌褉械褕 懈 写邪 褋懈 锌芯械屑械褕 胁褗蟹写褍褏.)
孝芯蟹懈 褉芯屑邪薪 胁褗蟹写械泄褋褌胁邪 械写薪芯胁褉械屑械薪薪芯 芯蟹谢芯斜褟胁邪褖芯, 薪芯 懈 褋屑懈褉褟胁邪褖芯 懈 芯褌褉械蟹胁褟胁邪褖芯. 袝蟹懈泻褗褌 薪邪 袣谢懈泄胁 械 褋褍褉芯胁, 卸懈谢邪胁, 褋械锌胁邪褖, 卸懈胁 懈 锌褍谢褋懈褉邪褖.
"袙褗蟹锌谢邪屑械薪褟胁邪薪械" 械 蟹谢芯胁械褖 锌褉芯褉芯褔械褋泻懈 褉芯屑邪薪, 褋斜褗写薪邪褌邪 邪薪褌懈褍褌芯锌懈褟 (胁 写械薪褟, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 懈蟹谢懈蟹邪 芯褌 锌械褔邪褌, 袥芯薪写芯薪 械 褉邪蟹褌褉械褋械薪 芯褌 褌械褉芯褉懈褋褌懈褔薪懈 邪褌邪泻懈), 胁 泻芯泄褌芯 械写薪邪 屑邪泄泻邪, 蟹邪谐褍斜懈谢邪 屑褗卸邪 懈 写械褌械褌芯 褋懈 蟹邪褉邪写懈 褌械褉芯褉懈褋褌懈褔薪邪 邪褌邪泻邪 薪邪 褎褍褌斜芯谢械薪 褋褌邪写懈芯薪, 懈蟹谢懈胁邪 褑褟谢邪褌邪 薪邪褋褗斜褉邪薪邪 谐芯褉褔懈谢泻邪 胁 锌懈褋屑芯 薪械 写芯 泻芯谐芯 写邪 械, 邪 写芯 褋邪屑懈褟 袨褋邪屑邪 斜懈薪 袥邪写械薪.
袧芯 邪泻芯 芯褔邪泻胁邪褌械, 褔械 褌芯胁邪 褖械 械 锌芯褉械写薪邪褌邪 懈褋褌芯褉懈褟 蟹邪 "写芯斜褉懈褌械 懈 谢芯褕懈褌械", 蟹邪 锌褉械泻褉邪褋薪芯褌芯 褋械屑械泄褋褌胁芯, 褉邪蟹斜懈褌芯 芯褌 蟹谢芯褌芯, 芯褌 谐芯谢褟屑邪褌邪 薪械锌褉邪胁写邪 懈 褌褉邪谐械写懈褟, 褌芯胁邪 薪械 械 胁邪褕邪褌邪 泻薪懈谐邪. 袟邪褖芯褌芯 胁 薪械褟 "写芯斜褉懈褌械" 锌褉芯褋褌芯 芯褌褋褗褋褌胁邪褌. 孝邪蟹懈 泻薪懈谐邪 锌褉械写褋褌邪胁褟 褔芯胁械泻邪 胁 褑褟谢邪褌邪 锌邪谢懈褌褉邪 芯褌 薪褞邪薪褋懈 薪邪 械屑芯褑懈懈褌械, 锌芯谐褉械褕薪懈褌械 懈蟹斜芯褉懈, 褋锌芯薪褌邪薪薪懈褌械 褉械褕械薪懈褟 懈 薪械芯斜褟褋薪懈屑懈 锌褉芯褟胁谢械薪懈褟.
袩芯泻邪蟹胁邪 褋褗褖芯 褌邪泻邪 械写薪芯 蟹谢芯胁械褖芯, 写械褎芯褉屑懈褉邪薪芯 谢懈褑械 薪邪 袥芯薪写芯薪, 泻芯械褌芯 褋械 泻褉懈械 锌芯写 褑懈胁懈谢懈蟹邪褑懈芯薪薪芯褌芯 斜褍谢芯 薪邪 胁械泻芯胁薪芯 谢懈褑械屑械褉懈械, 褋薪芯斜褋泻懈 锌芯褉褟写泻懈 懈 泻谢邪褋芯胁懈 斜械蟹写薪懈. 袙 谐谢邪胁邪褌邪 屑懈 懈蟹薪懈泻薪邪 芯斜褉邪蟹褗褌 芯褌 褋褌邪褉懈褌械 褎懈谢屑懈 薪邪 械写懈薪 锌芯褌褗薪邪谢 胁 泻邪谢, 谢芯泻胁懈 懈 褌械卸泻芯 蟹谢芯胁芯薪懈械 谐褉邪写, 懈蟹 泻芯泄褌芯 褋薪芯胁邪褌 锌谢褗褏芯胁械 懈 斜褗褉蟹芯 褋械 褕屑褍谐胁邪褌 懈蟹 泻邪薪邪谢懈蟹邪褑懈芯薪薪懈褌械 褕邪褏褌懈.
校褋械褖邪薪械褌芯 蟹邪 斜械蟹薪邪写械卸写薪芯褋褌 褋械 褍褋懈谢胁邪 芯褌 褔械谢薪懈褟 褋斜谢褗褋褗泻 褋 懈褋褌懈薪邪褌邪 蟹邪 褌械褉芯褉懈褋褌懈褔薪懈褌械 邪褌邪泻懈 懈 褏芯褉邪褌邪, 泻芯懈褌芯 褋械 斜芯褉褟褌 褋褉械褖褍 褌褟褏. 袣芯谢泻芯 褋褌褉褍胁邪 胁褋褗褖薪芯褋褌 褔芯胁械褕泻懈褟褌 卸懈胁芯褌? 袨锌褉邪胁写邪薪懈 谢懈 褋邪 褏懈谢褟写邪 卸械褉褌胁懈, 邪泻芯 械胁械薪褌褍邪谢薪芯 褋谢械写 褌芯胁邪 褋褌芯褌懈褑懈 褏懈谢褟写懈 屑芯谐邪褌 写邪 斜褗写邪褌 褋锌邪褋械薪懈? 袣芯泄 褉械褕邪胁邪 褌芯胁邪 懈 泻邪泻 褋械 卸懈胁械械 褋 褌邪泻芯胁邪 褉械褕械薪懈械?
袠蟹泻谢褞褔懈褌械谢薪芯 屑邪泄褋褌芯褉褋泻芯 懈蟹谐褉邪卸写邪薪械 薪邪 芯褋薪芯胁薪懈褌械 锌械褉褋芯薪邪卸懈 芯褌 袣褉懈褋 袣谢懈泄胁. 孝芯谢泻芯胁邪 锌谢褗褌薪芯 懈 褍斜械写懈褌械谢薪芯 锌褉械写褋褌邪胁褟薪械 薪邪 褔芯胁械褕泻懈 褏邪褉邪泻褌械褉懈 懈 锌芯胁械写械薪懈械 芯褌 写芯褋褌邪 胁褉械屑械 薪械 斜褟褏 褋褉械褖邪谢邪 胁 褉芯屑邪薪.
袦邪泄泻邪褌邪 械 薪械薪邪蟹芯胁邪薪邪 蟹邪 褉邪蟹谢懈泻邪 芯褌 写褉褍谐懈褌械 芯褋薪芯胁薪懈 锌械褉褋芯薪邪卸懈. 袧械泄薪邪褌邪 斜芯谢泻邪 械 褋褗斜懈褉邪褌械谢薪芯 薪邪 胁褋懈褔泻懈, 懈蟹锌懈褌胁邪褖懈 胁懈薪邪褌邪 薪邪 "芯褋褌邪薪邪谢懈褟 卸懈胁", 褔懈泄褌芯 卸懈胁芯褌 械 褉邪蟹斜懈褌 薪邪 锌邪褉褔械薪褑邪 褋褗褖芯 泻邪泻褌芯 褌褉褍锌芯胁械褌械 薪邪 卸械褉褌胁懈褌械 芯褌 泻褗褉胁邪胁懈褟 邪褌械薪褌邪褌. 袙 械锌懈褋褌芯谢邪褉薪邪 褎芯褉屑邪 褌褟 褉邪蟹泻邪蟹胁邪 卸懈胁芯褌邪 褋懈 - 蟹邪 卸械薪褋泻芯褌芯 褋懈 芯斜褗褉泻胁邪薪械 懈 薪械褍写芯胁谢械褌胁芯褉械薪芯褋褌 芯褌 褌褉褍写薪懈褟 胁褋械泻懈写薪械胁械薪 卸懈胁芯褌; 芯褌 薪械褉邪胁薪懈褌械 胁褗蟹屑芯卸薪芯褋褌懈 屑械卸写褍 褉邪蟹谢懈褔薪懈褌械 泻谢邪褋懈 胁 袥芯薪写芯薪; 芯褌 斜懈褌芯胁懈蟹屑邪, 泻芯泄褌芯 蟹邪写褍褕邪胁邪 胁 褏胁邪褌泻邪褌邪 褋懈 懈 薪邪泄-写芯斜褉懈褟 斜褉邪泻; 芯褌 胁械褔薪芯褌芯 褔邪泻邪薪械 薪邪 屑褗卸邪 褋懈 芯褌 薪芯褖薪懈 褋屑械薪懈; 芯褌 褋斜谢褗褋褗泻邪 褋 薪械谐芯胁邪褌邪 锌褉懈褋褌褉邪褋褌械薪芯褋褌 泻褗屑 褏邪蟹邪褉褌邪 懈 锌芯褋褌芯褟薪薪邪 褍屑芯褉邪, 锌褉械褉邪褋褌胁邪褖邪 胁 邪锌邪褌懈褟 懈 芯褌褔褍卸写械薪懈械; 芯褌 谢褗褔邪 褋胁械褌谢懈薪邪, 写邪褉褟胁邪薪 褲 芯褌 屑邪谢泻芯褌芯 褲 屑芯屑褔械薪褑械, 谐褍褕薪邪谢芯 褋胁芯褟 锌谢褞褕械薪 蟹邪械泻, 泻芯泄褌芯 芯褋褌邪胁邪 械写懈薪褋褌胁械薪芯褌芯 褲 褋锌邪褋懈褌械谢薪芯 胁褗卸械 褋褉械写 褋邪屑芯褌邪褌邪.
袠 褌芯谐邪胁邪 懈蟹胁械写薪褗卸 懈写胁邪 芯薪褟 屑芯屑械薪褌 薪邪 褋谢邪斜芯褋褌 懈 褍褟蟹胁懈屑芯褋褌, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 蟹邪 屑懈谐 懈蟹锌褍褋泻邪褕 泻芯谢芯胁芯蟹邪 懈 泻褉懈胁胁邪褕 胁褋褌褉邪薪懈, 邪 锌芯褋谢械 胁褉褗褖邪薪械 薪邪蟹邪写 薪褟屑邪. 袨褌泻褉懈胁邪褕 懈蟹屑邪屑薪芯 芯斜械褖邪薪懈械 蟹邪 谢邪褋泻邪, 褌芯锌谢懈薪邪, 胁薪懈屑邪薪懈械 懈 胁褋褗褖薪芯褋褌 锌褉芯褋褌芯 械写薪邪 芯斜懈泻薪芯胁械薪邪 薪芯褉屑邪谢薪芯褋褌 胁 芯褌薪芯褕械薪懈褟褌邪, 泻芯褟褌芯 褌芯谢泻芯胁邪 褌懈 械 谢懈锌褋胁邪谢邪, 懈 锌褉芯褋褌芯 褲 褋械 芯褌写邪胁邪褕. 孝芯胁邪 褋械 褋谢褍褔胁邪 薪邪 褋褌芯褌懈褑懈 褏芯褉邪 胁褋械泻懈 写械薪. 袣邪泻胁芯 褌芯谢泻芯胁邪 蟹谢芯 懈 薪械锌芯锌褉邪胁懈屑芯 屑芯卸械 写邪 写芯薪械褋械? 袠 胁 褋褗褖懈褟 褌芯蟹懈 屑懈谐, 胁 泻芯泄褌芯 屑懈屑芯谢械褌薪邪褌邪 蟹邪斜褉邪胁邪 褌械 芯褌泻褗褋胁邪 芯褌 薪邪褖褗褉斜械薪邪褌邪 褉械邪谢薪芯褋褌 褋 薪械泄薪懈褌械 芯褋褌褉懈 褉褗斜芯胁械, 褋械 褋谢褍褔胁邪 薪械芯斜褉邪褌懈屑芯褌芯, 褋谢械写 泻芯械褌芯 胁械褔械 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 褋懈 褋褗褖懈褟褌, 薪芯 褖械 褌褉褟斜胁邪 写邪 褋械 薪邪褍褔懈褕 写邪 卸懈胁械械褕 褋 薪械谐芯, 胁褗锌褉械泻懈 薪械谐芯 懈 蟹邪褉邪写懈 薪械谐芯. 袟邪褖芯褌芯 褖械 褋械 芯泻邪卸械, 褔械 懈屑械薪薪芯 褌芯 褌械 械 薪邪褍褔懈谢芯 写邪 卸懈胁械械褕 懈褋褌懈薪褋泻懈, 写邪 写懈褕邪褕 褋 锌褗谢薪邪 谐褉褗写, 写邪 褍蟹褉械械褕 蟹邪 懈褋褌懈薪邪褌邪 懈 写邪 褋械 褋锌褉邪胁懈褕 褋 薪械褟, 懈 薪邪泄-胁械褔械 写邪 褋懈 锌褉芯褋褌懈褕 懈 写邪 芯锌懈褌邪褕 芯褌薪芯胁芯!
袩褉芯褔械褌械褌械 褌芯蟹懈 褉芯屑邪薪 薪邪 袣褉懈褋 袣谢懈泄胁! 袣薪懈谐邪褌邪 械 褌械卸泻邪, 褌褉褍写薪邪 懈 斜芯谢械蟹薪械薪芯 芯褌泻褉芯胁械薪邪, 薪芯 褋械 褔械褌械 谢械泻芯 懈 褍胁谢懈褔邪 褌邪泻邪, 褔械 薪械 屑芯卸械褌械 写邪 褟 芯褋褌邪胁懈褌械, 胁褗锌褉械泻懈 褔械 薪邪 屑械褋褌邪 薪邪懈褋褌懈薪邪 胁懈 褋械 懈褋泻邪 斜褍泻胁邪谢薪芯 写邪 褟 蟹邪褏胁褗褉谢懈褌械 芯褌 芯屑械褉蟹械薪懈械.
袙 褌芯胁邪 械 懈褋褌懈薪褋泻芯褌芯 屑邪泄褋褌芯褉褋褌胁芯 薪邪 袣谢懈泄胁 懈 薪邪 斜械蟹褍锌褉械褔薪懈褟 锌褉械胁芯写 薪邪 袧械胁械薪邪 袛懈褕谢懈械胁邪-袣褉褗褋褌械胁邪! 袩芯褉械写薪芯褌芯 蟹邪谐谢邪胁懈械 胁 泻邪褌邪谢芯谐邪 薪邪 ICU, 懈蟹写褗褉卸邪薪芯 薪邪 胁褋懈褔泻懈 薪懈胁邪!
"袩褉械写懈 写邪 胁蟹褉懈胁懈褕 屑芯屑褔械薪褑械褌芯 屑懈 袨褋邪屑邪 胁懈薪邪谐懈 褋褗屑 褋懈 屑懈褋谢械谢邪 褔械 械泻褋锌谢芯蟹懈褟褌邪 械 械写薪芯泻褉邪褌械薪 邪泻褌 薪芯 胁械褔械 蟹薪邪屑. 袨褌胁褗薪 锌谢邪屑褗泻褗褌 褍谐邪褋胁邪 屑薪芯谐芯 斜褗褉蟹芯 薪芯 芯谐褗薪褟褌 锌褉芯锌褗谢蟹褟胁邪 胁褗褌褉械 胁 褌械斜 懈 褌褉褟褋褗泻褗褌 芯褋褌邪胁邪 写邪 泻褗薪褌懈 蟹邪胁懈薪邪谐懈. 袣芯谢泻芯褌芯 懈 写邪 褋懈 蟹邪锌褍褕胁邪褕 褍褕懈褌械 褋 写谢邪薪懈 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 谐芯 蟹邪谐谢褍褕懈褕. 袩芯卸邪褉褗褌 锌褉芯写褗谢卸邪胁邪 写邪 斜褍褕褍胁邪 褋 薪械胁褗芯斜褉邪蟹懈屑 谐褉芯褏芯褌 懈 薪邪褋褌褗褉胁械薪懈械. 袗 薪邪泄-褋褌褉邪薪薪芯褌芯 械 褔械 写芯 褌械斜 胁 屑械褌褉芯褌芯 屑芯卸械 写邪 褋褌芯褟褌 褏芯褉邪 懈 写邪 薪械 褔褍褟褌 薪懈褖懈褔泻芯. 袞懈胁械褟 胁 锌褗泻褗谢邪 懈 褌褉械锌械褉褟 芯褌 褋褌褍写 袨褋邪屑邪. 孝芯蟹懈 卸懈胁芯褌 械 芯谐谢褍褕懈褌械谢械薪 谐褉芯褏芯褌 薪芯 褟 褋械 蟹邪褋谢褍褕邪泄. 些械 褔褍械褕 泻邪泻 锌邪写邪 泻邪褉褎懈褑邪."
"袦芯卸械 写邪 褌懈 褋械 褋褌褉褍胁邪 褋屑械褕薪芯 袨褋邪屑邪 薪芯 写邪 蟹薪邪械褕 褔械 薪褟屑邪 泻邪泻 写邪 懈蟹褑械写懈褕 懈 锌芯褋谢械写薪邪褌邪 泻邪锌泻邪 谐芯褉写芯褋褌 芯褌 褔芯胁械泻. 袚芯褉写芯褋褌褌邪 械 泻邪褌芯 锌邪褋褌邪 蟹邪 蟹褗斜懈. 袦芯卸械 写邪 褋屑邪褔泻邪褕 褌褍斜懈褔泻邪褌邪 薪芯 胁褗褌褉械 胁懈薪邪谐懈 芯褋褌邪胁邪 屑邪谢泻芯 薪邪谢懈 褌邪泻邪?"
(笑械谢懈褟褌 褉芯屑邪薪 械 薪邪锌懈褋邪薪 斜械蟹 蟹邪锌械褌邪懈. 小锌芯褉械写 屑械薪, 芯褌 械写薪邪 褋褌褉邪薪邪, 泻邪褌芯 斜械谢械谐 蟹邪 褌芯胁邪, 褔械 谐谢邪胁薪邪褌邪 谐械褉芯懈薪褟 械 褋褉械写薪芯褋褌邪褌懈褋褌懈褔械褋泻邪 屑邪泄泻邪 芯褌 褉邪斜芯褌薪懈褔械褋泻邪褌邪 泻谢邪褋邪, 薪械 芯褋芯斜械薪芯 谐褉邪屑芯褌薪邪, 邪 芯褌 写褉褍谐邪 - 蟹邪 写邪 蟹胁褍褔懈 薪邪褉邪褌懈胁褗褌 泻邪褌芯 斜械蟹泻褉邪械薪 薪懈蟹 芯褌 斜芯谢泻邪, 屑褗泻邪 懈 谐薪褟胁, 胁 泻芯泄褌芯 薪褟屑邪褕 胁褉械屑械 懈 褋懈谢懈 写邪 褋锌褉械褕 懈 写邪 褋懈 锌芯械屑械褕 胁褗蟹写褍褏.)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 24, 2011
Imagine that you鈥檙e a working class Cockney mother with a husband who detonates bombs and a young son who is four years and three months old. You stave off your anxieties about the uncertainty of your life through mindless sex encounters. Eventually, you meet a neighbor 鈥� a journalist named Jasper 鈥� and, while your husband and son are at a soccer game, you invite him to your flat. At the exact same time you are in the throes of sexual abandon, there鈥檚 a massive terrorist bomb attack at the London soccer stadium, vaporizing over one thousand people 鈥� your husband and son among them. How do you go on? How do you live with the remorse?
Chris Cleave explores that question in an epistolary structure; the nameless woman writes a letter to Osama bin Laden in the aftermath of the attack. The epistolary form is used with caution as a framing device (Nicole Krauss鈥檚 The Great House and Moshid Hamid鈥檚 The Reluctant Fundamentalist come to mind), because it is not easy to pull off. The reader is a fly-on-the-wall and can choose to connect with the narrator 鈥� or not. And if truth be known, Mr. Cleave is not entirely successful in his narrative control as the conceit of writing to Osama begins to wear thin.
What he is successful with is developing a fragile persona 鈥� an obsessive woman who is gradually unraveling as a result of post-traumatic stress disorder and who is quickly spiraling downward. The anonymity of the character makes her everywoman, trying to survive in a post-terrorist world. The woman writes, 鈥淏efore you bombed my boy Osama I always through an explosion was such a quick thing but now I know better. The flash is over very fast but the fire catches hold inside you and the noise never stops鈥 live in an inferno where you could shiver with cold Osama. This life is a deafening roar but listen. You could hear a pin drop.鈥�
The bombing and PSTD, though, is only the beginning. London is quickly transformed into a virtual occupied territory as the woman fights her own inward battles. She is drawn into a psychological maelstrom with Jasper and his fianc茅e, Petra, an upper-class fashion journalist who happens to resemble her closely.
Indeed, Petra and the narrator may very well represent two parts of London, which is described as 鈥渁 smiling liar his front teeth are very nice but you can smell his back teeth rotten and stinking.鈥� Each cannot exist without the other. And so they enter a danse-a-deux of symbiosis and betrayal. Eventually, the novel veers toward a stunning denouement and an over-the-top ending.
It鈥檚 extraordinary ambitious for a first-time novelist (this book was written before Chris Cleave鈥檚 more well-known Little Bee) and sometimes the prose comes across as rather self-congratulatory or forced. Mr. Cleave鈥檚 intention, it seems, is to portray a decadent Western society that struggles to break free of its class distinctions 鈥� without success, setting itself up as something to tear down. Yet at the core of the novel, there is an emotional void. The characters are not quite satirical, yet not quite real. And as a result of the epistolary form, we, as readers, are held at arm鈥檚 length, not quite embracing them.
This often disturbing, sometimes macabre novel has its own intriguing history. The morning after its initial launch party, in July 0f 2005, three suicide bombers detonated their devices in the London Underground. The book tour was shelves and the novel was temporarily withdrawn from sale by many UK retailers. Sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction. And in Chris Cleave鈥檚 world, fiction is very strange indeed. (2.5)
Chris Cleave explores that question in an epistolary structure; the nameless woman writes a letter to Osama bin Laden in the aftermath of the attack. The epistolary form is used with caution as a framing device (Nicole Krauss鈥檚 The Great House and Moshid Hamid鈥檚 The Reluctant Fundamentalist come to mind), because it is not easy to pull off. The reader is a fly-on-the-wall and can choose to connect with the narrator 鈥� or not. And if truth be known, Mr. Cleave is not entirely successful in his narrative control as the conceit of writing to Osama begins to wear thin.
What he is successful with is developing a fragile persona 鈥� an obsessive woman who is gradually unraveling as a result of post-traumatic stress disorder and who is quickly spiraling downward. The anonymity of the character makes her everywoman, trying to survive in a post-terrorist world. The woman writes, 鈥淏efore you bombed my boy Osama I always through an explosion was such a quick thing but now I know better. The flash is over very fast but the fire catches hold inside you and the noise never stops鈥 live in an inferno where you could shiver with cold Osama. This life is a deafening roar but listen. You could hear a pin drop.鈥�
The bombing and PSTD, though, is only the beginning. London is quickly transformed into a virtual occupied territory as the woman fights her own inward battles. She is drawn into a psychological maelstrom with Jasper and his fianc茅e, Petra, an upper-class fashion journalist who happens to resemble her closely.
Indeed, Petra and the narrator may very well represent two parts of London, which is described as 鈥渁 smiling liar his front teeth are very nice but you can smell his back teeth rotten and stinking.鈥� Each cannot exist without the other. And so they enter a danse-a-deux of symbiosis and betrayal. Eventually, the novel veers toward a stunning denouement and an over-the-top ending.
It鈥檚 extraordinary ambitious for a first-time novelist (this book was written before Chris Cleave鈥檚 more well-known Little Bee) and sometimes the prose comes across as rather self-congratulatory or forced. Mr. Cleave鈥檚 intention, it seems, is to portray a decadent Western society that struggles to break free of its class distinctions 鈥� without success, setting itself up as something to tear down. Yet at the core of the novel, there is an emotional void. The characters are not quite satirical, yet not quite real. And as a result of the epistolary form, we, as readers, are held at arm鈥檚 length, not quite embracing them.
This often disturbing, sometimes macabre novel has its own intriguing history. The morning after its initial launch party, in July 0f 2005, three suicide bombers detonated their devices in the London Underground. The book tour was shelves and the novel was temporarily withdrawn from sale by many UK retailers. Sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction. And in Chris Cleave鈥檚 world, fiction is very strange indeed. (2.5)
November 20, 2018
孝芯胁邪 械 芯褌 芯薪械蟹懈 屑芯屑械薪褌懈, 胁 泻芯懈褌芯 蟹薪邪屑, 褔械 屑芯谐邪 懈 锌芯-写芯斜褉械.
袩芯蟹薪邪胁邪屑 袣褉懈褋 袣谢懈泄胁. 袩褉邪胁懈谢邪 褋褗屑 褋 薪械谐芯 械写薪芯 屑薪芯谐芯 写褗谢谐芯 懈薪褌械褉胁褞, 泻芯械褌芯 锌褉械屑懈薪邪 胁 锌褉懈褟褌械谢褋泻懈 褉邪蟹谐芯胁芯褉 蟹邪 屑褍蟹懈泻邪, 泻薪懈谐懈 懈 锌褗褌褍胁邪薪懈褟. 袪邪蟹屑械薪褟谢邪 褋褗屑 屑械泄谢懈.
袩芯屑薪褟 写芯斜褉芯褌邪褌邪, 泻芯褟褌芯 褌芯蟹懈 褔芯胁械泻 懈蟹谢褗褔胁邪褕械 锌褉懈 锌褗褉胁懈褟 薪懈 褉邪蟹谐芯胁芯褉.
袠 褋械谐邪 褋褗屑 褕芯泻懈褉邪薪邪. 袟邪褖芯褌芯 褍褋械褌懈褏 谐薪械胁邪 屑褍. 袠 胁褋懈褔泻芯 泻邪蟹邪薪芯 屑懈 械 屑邪谢泻芯.
袟邪褖芯褌芯 鈥炐捬娦沸啃恍靶夹敌窖徯残靶叫碘€� (懈蟹写. ICU - publishing, translation, scouting, 2018 谐.; 锌褉械胁芯写: 袧械胁械薪邪 袛懈褕谢懈械胁邪-袣褉褗褋褌械胁邪) 薪械 械 鈥炐斞€褍谐邪褌邪 褉褗泻邪鈥�. 袙 褌芯蟹懈 锌褉械写褋褌芯褟褖 蟹邪 斜褗谢谐邪褉褋泻邪褌邪 锌褍斜谢懈泻邪 褉芯屑邪薪 薪褟屑邪 薪懈褖芯 芯褌 芯薪邪蟹懈 屑械泻芯褌邪, 泻芯褟褌芯 写褉械屑械褕械 胁 芯褔懈褌械 薪邪 芯薪蟹懈 褔芯胁械泻, 褍褋屑懈褏胁邪褖 屑懈 褋械 锌褉械蟹 褋泻邪泄锌.
袟邪褖芯褌芯 "袙褗蟹锌谢邪屑械薪褟胁邪薪械" 械 褉褗斜邪褌 褉芯屑邪薪. 袟邪褖芯褌芯 褋褌褗锌胁邪 写懈褉械泻褌薪芯 胁褗褉褏褍 蟹邪斜懈褌懈褟 胁 褋褗褉褑械褌芯 薪邪 褋褗胁褉械屑械薪薪邪褌邪 褑懈胁懈谢懈蟹邪褑懈褟 褌褉褗薪 鈥� 褌械褉芯褉懈蟹屑邪. 袠 褌芯 薪械 蟹邪褉邪写懈 芯斜褉褗褖械薪懈械褌芯 "小泻褗锌懈 袨褋邪屑邪".
孝械泻褋褌褗褌 薪邪 袣谢懈泄胁 锌褉械写褋褌邪胁谢褟胁邪 芯褌泻褉芯胁械薪芯 懈 谢懈褔薪芯 锌懈褋屑芯 泻褗屑 袨褋邪屑邪 斜懈薪 袥邪写械薪, 薪邪锌懈褋邪薪芯 芯褌 屑谢邪写邪 卸械薪邪 芯褌 褉邪斜芯褌薪懈褔械褋泻邪褌邪 泻谢邪褋邪, 褔懈泄褌芯 褋褗锌褉褍谐 懈 褔械褌懈褉懈谐芯写懈褕械薪 褋懈薪 蟹邪谐懈胁邪褌 胁 邪褌械薪褌邪褌 锌芯 胁褉械屑械 薪邪 褎褍褌斜芯谢薪邪 褋褉械褖邪.
"孝懈 薪邪褉邪薪懈 袥芯薪写芯薪, 袨褋邪屑邪, 薪芯 薪械 谐芯 褍薪懈褖芯卸懈 懈 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 褍褋锌械械褕. 袥芯薪写芯薪 械 泻邪褌芯 屑械薪 - 褌胁褗褉写械 屑懈蟹械褉e薪 斜械写薪褟泻 懈 薪械胁械卸邪, 蟹邪 写邪 芯褋褗蟹薪邪械 泻芯谐邪 褋邪 谐芯 褍薪懈褖芯卸懈谢懈. 袨薪邪蟹懈 褋褍褌褉懈薪, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 锌芯谐谢械写薪邪褏 泻褗屑 懈蟹谐褉褟胁邪褖芯褌芯 褋谢褗薪褑械 屑械卸写褍 写芯泻芯胁械褌械, 蟹薪邪械褏 褋褗褋 褋懈谐褍褉薪芯褋褌. 袗蟹 褋褗屑 袥芯薪写芯薪, 袨褋邪屑邪, 邪蟹 褋褗屑 褑械谢懈褟褌 褋胁褟褌. 校斜懈泄 屑械 褋 斜芯屑斜懈褌械 褋懈, 泻芯锌械谢械薪褑械 薪械褖邪褋褌薪芯, 懈 邪蟹 褋邪屑邪 褖械 锌芯褋褌褉芯褟 芯褌薪芯胁芯 褋械斜械 褋懈 芯褖械 锌芯-褋懈谢薪邪. 孝胁褗褉写械 谐谢褍锌邪胁邪 褋褗屑, 蟹邪 写邪 薪邪锌褉邪胁褟 写褉褍谐芯. 袗蟹 褋褗屑 卸械薪邪, 懈蟹写懈谐薪邪褌邪 胁褗褉褏褍 芯褋褌邪薪泻懈褌械 芯褌 褋械斜械 褋懈. 袚谢械写邪褏 薪邪写芯谢褍 泻褗屑 褕懈褉薪邪谢懈褟 褋械 锌芯写 屑械薪 袥芯薪写芯薪 胁 芯薪邪蟹懈 褋褍褌褉懈薪 懈 蟹薪邪械褏屑 褔械 械 胁褉械屑械 懈 邪蟹 写邪 褋谢褟蟹邪 褌邪屑."
袚芯褌芯胁懈 谢懈 褋褌械 蟹邪 褌芯蟹懈 褉芯屑邪薪? 袧邪泄-胁械褉芯褟褌薪芯 薪械. 袧褍卸械薪 谢懈 械? 孝芯谢泻芯胁邪, 泻芯谢泻芯褌芯 胁褗蟹写褍褏邪 胁 谐褉邪写, 泻芯泄褌芯 薪械 谐芯褉懈... 小邪屑芯 薪械 蟹薪邪褟 懈屑邪 谢懈 芯褖械 褌邪泻褗胁.
袨褖械 褌褍泻:
袩芯蟹薪邪胁邪屑 袣褉懈褋 袣谢懈泄胁. 袩褉邪胁懈谢邪 褋褗屑 褋 薪械谐芯 械写薪芯 屑薪芯谐芯 写褗谢谐芯 懈薪褌械褉胁褞, 泻芯械褌芯 锌褉械屑懈薪邪 胁 锌褉懈褟褌械谢褋泻懈 褉邪蟹谐芯胁芯褉 蟹邪 屑褍蟹懈泻邪, 泻薪懈谐懈 懈 锌褗褌褍胁邪薪懈褟. 袪邪蟹屑械薪褟谢邪 褋褗屑 屑械泄谢懈.
袩芯屑薪褟 写芯斜褉芯褌邪褌邪, 泻芯褟褌芯 褌芯蟹懈 褔芯胁械泻 懈蟹谢褗褔胁邪褕械 锌褉懈 锌褗褉胁懈褟 薪懈 褉邪蟹谐芯胁芯褉.
袠 褋械谐邪 褋褗屑 褕芯泻懈褉邪薪邪. 袟邪褖芯褌芯 褍褋械褌懈褏 谐薪械胁邪 屑褍. 袠 胁褋懈褔泻芯 泻邪蟹邪薪芯 屑懈 械 屑邪谢泻芯.
袟邪褖芯褌芯 鈥炐捬娦沸啃恍靶夹敌窖徯残靶叫碘€� (懈蟹写. ICU - publishing, translation, scouting, 2018 谐.; 锌褉械胁芯写: 袧械胁械薪邪 袛懈褕谢懈械胁邪-袣褉褗褋褌械胁邪) 薪械 械 鈥炐斞€褍谐邪褌邪 褉褗泻邪鈥�. 袙 褌芯蟹懈 锌褉械写褋褌芯褟褖 蟹邪 斜褗谢谐邪褉褋泻邪褌邪 锌褍斜谢懈泻邪 褉芯屑邪薪 薪褟屑邪 薪懈褖芯 芯褌 芯薪邪蟹懈 屑械泻芯褌邪, 泻芯褟褌芯 写褉械屑械褕械 胁 芯褔懈褌械 薪邪 芯薪蟹懈 褔芯胁械泻, 褍褋屑懈褏胁邪褖 屑懈 褋械 锌褉械蟹 褋泻邪泄锌.
袟邪褖芯褌芯 "袙褗蟹锌谢邪屑械薪褟胁邪薪械" 械 褉褗斜邪褌 褉芯屑邪薪. 袟邪褖芯褌芯 褋褌褗锌胁邪 写懈褉械泻褌薪芯 胁褗褉褏褍 蟹邪斜懈褌懈褟 胁 褋褗褉褑械褌芯 薪邪 褋褗胁褉械屑械薪薪邪褌邪 褑懈胁懈谢懈蟹邪褑懈褟 褌褉褗薪 鈥� 褌械褉芯褉懈蟹屑邪. 袠 褌芯 薪械 蟹邪褉邪写懈 芯斜褉褗褖械薪懈械褌芯 "小泻褗锌懈 袨褋邪屑邪".
孝械泻褋褌褗褌 薪邪 袣谢懈泄胁 锌褉械写褋褌邪胁谢褟胁邪 芯褌泻褉芯胁械薪芯 懈 谢懈褔薪芯 锌懈褋屑芯 泻褗屑 袨褋邪屑邪 斜懈薪 袥邪写械薪, 薪邪锌懈褋邪薪芯 芯褌 屑谢邪写邪 卸械薪邪 芯褌 褉邪斜芯褌薪懈褔械褋泻邪褌邪 泻谢邪褋邪, 褔懈泄褌芯 褋褗锌褉褍谐 懈 褔械褌懈褉懈谐芯写懈褕械薪 褋懈薪 蟹邪谐懈胁邪褌 胁 邪褌械薪褌邪褌 锌芯 胁褉械屑械 薪邪 褎褍褌斜芯谢薪邪 褋褉械褖邪.
"孝懈 薪邪褉邪薪懈 袥芯薪写芯薪, 袨褋邪屑邪, 薪芯 薪械 谐芯 褍薪懈褖芯卸懈 懈 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 褍褋锌械械褕. 袥芯薪写芯薪 械 泻邪褌芯 屑械薪 - 褌胁褗褉写械 屑懈蟹械褉e薪 斜械写薪褟泻 懈 薪械胁械卸邪, 蟹邪 写邪 芯褋褗蟹薪邪械 泻芯谐邪 褋邪 谐芯 褍薪懈褖芯卸懈谢懈. 袨薪邪蟹懈 褋褍褌褉懈薪, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 锌芯谐谢械写薪邪褏 泻褗屑 懈蟹谐褉褟胁邪褖芯褌芯 褋谢褗薪褑械 屑械卸写褍 写芯泻芯胁械褌械, 蟹薪邪械褏 褋褗褋 褋懈谐褍褉薪芯褋褌. 袗蟹 褋褗屑 袥芯薪写芯薪, 袨褋邪屑邪, 邪蟹 褋褗屑 褑械谢懈褟褌 褋胁褟褌. 校斜懈泄 屑械 褋 斜芯屑斜懈褌械 褋懈, 泻芯锌械谢械薪褑械 薪械褖邪褋褌薪芯, 懈 邪蟹 褋邪屑邪 褖械 锌芯褋褌褉芯褟 芯褌薪芯胁芯 褋械斜械 褋懈 芯褖械 锌芯-褋懈谢薪邪. 孝胁褗褉写械 谐谢褍锌邪胁邪 褋褗屑, 蟹邪 写邪 薪邪锌褉邪胁褟 写褉褍谐芯. 袗蟹 褋褗屑 卸械薪邪, 懈蟹写懈谐薪邪褌邪 胁褗褉褏褍 芯褋褌邪薪泻懈褌械 芯褌 褋械斜械 褋懈. 袚谢械写邪褏 薪邪写芯谢褍 泻褗屑 褕懈褉薪邪谢懈褟 褋械 锌芯写 屑械薪 袥芯薪写芯薪 胁 芯薪邪蟹懈 褋褍褌褉懈薪 懈 蟹薪邪械褏屑 褔械 械 胁褉械屑械 懈 邪蟹 写邪 褋谢褟蟹邪 褌邪屑."
袚芯褌芯胁懈 谢懈 褋褌械 蟹邪 褌芯蟹懈 褉芯屑邪薪? 袧邪泄-胁械褉芯褟褌薪芯 薪械. 袧褍卸械薪 谢懈 械? 孝芯谢泻芯胁邪, 泻芯谢泻芯褌芯 胁褗蟹写褍褏邪 胁 谐褉邪写, 泻芯泄褌芯 薪械 谐芯褉懈... 小邪屑芯 薪械 蟹薪邪褟 懈屑邪 谢懈 芯褖械 褌邪泻褗胁.
袨褖械 褌褍泻:
August 17, 2023
孝褉褍写薪芯 械 写邪 锌褉芯写褗谢卸懈褕 薪邪锌褉械写 褋谢械写 蟹邪谐褍斜邪褌邪 薪邪 薪邪泄-褋胁懈写薪芯褌芯 褋懈.
孝褉褍写薪芯 械 写邪 薪芯褋懈褕 胁懈薪邪褌邪 胁 褋械斜械 褋懈.
孝褉褍写薪芯 械 写邪 薪邪屑械褉懈褕 褋屑懈褋褗谢 胁 卸懈胁芯褌邪 褋懈, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 褏芯褉邪褌邪, 泻芯懈褌芯 芯斜懈褔邪褕 胁械褔械 谐懈 薪褟屑邪.
孝褉褍写薪芯 械 写邪 褋械 懈蟹写懈谐薪械褕 胁褗褉褏褍 芯褋褌邪薪泻懈褌械 芯褌 褋械斜械 褋懈.
袦褉邪褔械薪 袥芯薪写芯薪 懈 薪褟屑邪屑 锌褉械写胁懈写 写褗卸写芯胁薪芯褌芯 胁褉械屑械 懈 屑褗谐谢邪褌邪.
袦褉邪褔薪邪 懈褋褌芯褉懈褟, 褌褗卸薪邪, 薪芯 褌械 锌褉懈胁谢懈褔邪 褌邪泻邪 泻邪泻褌芯 械谢械泻褌褉懈褔械褋泻邪褌邪 泻褉褍褕泻邪 锌褉懈胁谢懈褔邪 薪邪褋械泻芯屑芯褌芯. 袟薪邪械褕, 褔械 褖械 懈蟹谐芯褉懈褕, 薪芯 褋械 胁泻芯锌褔胁邪褕 胁 褌邪蟹懈 褋胁械褌谢懈薪邪.
孝褉褍写薪芯 械 写邪 薪芯褋懈褕 胁懈薪邪褌邪 胁 褋械斜械 褋懈.
孝褉褍写薪芯 械 写邪 薪邪屑械褉懈褕 褋屑懈褋褗谢 胁 卸懈胁芯褌邪 褋懈, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 褏芯褉邪褌邪, 泻芯懈褌芯 芯斜懈褔邪褕 胁械褔械 谐懈 薪褟屑邪.
孝褉褍写薪芯 械 写邪 褋械 懈蟹写懈谐薪械褕 胁褗褉褏褍 芯褋褌邪薪泻懈褌械 芯褌 褋械斜械 褋懈.
袦褉邪褔械薪 袥芯薪写芯薪 懈 薪褟屑邪屑 锌褉械写胁懈写 写褗卸写芯胁薪芯褌芯 胁褉械屑械 懈 屑褗谐谢邪褌邪.
袦褉邪褔薪邪 懈褋褌芯褉懈褟, 褌褗卸薪邪, 薪芯 褌械 锌褉懈胁谢懈褔邪 褌邪泻邪 泻邪泻褌芯 械谢械泻褌褉懈褔械褋泻邪褌邪 泻褉褍褕泻邪 锌褉懈胁谢懈褔邪 薪邪褋械泻芯屑芯褌芯. 袟薪邪械褕, 褔械 褖械 懈蟹谐芯褉懈褕, 薪芯 褋械 胁泻芯锌褔胁邪褕 胁 褌邪蟹懈 褋胁械褌谢懈薪邪.
February 28, 2023
4.5猸愶笍
hauntingly phenomenal
hauntingly phenomenal
June 7, 2019
效邪褋褌 芯褌 锌褉械写谐芯胁芯褉邪:
袦械卸写褍胁褉械屑械薪薪芯 锌褉芯锌邪褋褌褌邪 屑械卸写褍 斜械写薪懈褌械 懈 斜芯谐邪褌懈褌械 胁 袥芯薪写芯薪 褋械 褍胁械谢懈褔邪胁邪褕械, 薪邪泄-胁械褔械 斜谢邪谐芯写邪褉械薪懈械 薪邪 薪邪锌褗谢薪芯 芯斜械蟹褍屑械谢懈褟 褎懈薪邪薪褋芯胁 褋械泻褌芯褉, 泻芯泄褌芯 芯斜谢邪谐芯写械褌械谢褋褌胁邪褕械 械写薪芯 斜械蟹锌邪褉写芯薪薪芯 屑邪谢褑懈薪褋褌胁芯,邪 褋屑械褌泻邪褌邪 胁 泻褉邪泄薪邪 褋屑械褌泻邪 褖械褕械 写邪 褋械 褋褌芯胁邪褉懈 胁褗褉褏褍 懈蟹谢褗谐邪薪芯褌芯 屑薪芯蟹懈薪褋褌胁芯.
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袧邪锌懈褋邪褏 袙褗蟹锌谢邪屑械薪褟胁邪薪械 蟹邪 褕械褋褌 褋械写屑懈褑懈 薪邪 械写薪芯 褌邪胁邪薪褔械 褋 斜褞褉芯 懈 泻邪褎械胁邪褉泻邪, 锌芯褔褌懈 斜械蟹 写邪 谐芯 薪邪锌褍褋泻邪屑, 写芯泻邪褌芯 薪械 蟹邪胁褗褉褕懈褏 褉褗泻芯锌懈褋邪.
校褋械褌懈 褋械, 褔械 械 泻薪懈谐邪褌邪 械 薪邪锌懈褋邪薪邪 褋 械写懈薪 褋懈谢械薪 锌芯褉懈胁. 袣邪泻胁懈 蟹邪锌械褌邪泄泻懈? 袪邪蟹斜懈褉邪 褋械, 褔械 谐懈 薪褟屑邪. 袠 锌芯-写芯斜褉械.
袙 薪邪褔邪谢芯褌芯 褋懈 屑懈褋谢械褏 "谢械谢械, 泻芯谢泻芯 薪邪懈胁薪芯 蟹邪锌芯褔胁邪". 袩懈褋屑芯 写芯 袨褋邪屑邪..., 薪芯 褋褗胁褋械屑 褋泻芯褉芯 褋械 芯泻邪蟹邪, 褔械 褌芯胁邪 锌懈褋屑芯 械 写芯 袗谐褉械褋懈褟褌邪, 写芯 袞械褋褌芯泻芯褋褌褌邪, 泻芯懈褌芯 褋邪 胁褗胁 胁褋械泻懈 械写懈薪 芯褌 薪邪褋 懈 薪邪胁褋褟泻褗写械. 袧邪褋懈谢懈械褌芯 锌芯 褋胁械褌邪 械 褋胁褗褉蟹邪薪芯 褌芯褔薪芯 泻邪泻褌芯 褋邪 褋胁褗褉蟹邪薪懈 屑芯褉械褌邪褌邪 胁 小胁械褌芯胁薪懈褟 芯泻械邪薪... 袩懈褋屑芯褌芯 械 写芯 胁褋懈褔泻芯, 泻芯械褌芯 械 袨褋邪屑邪.
袪邪蟹泻邪蟹-锌懈褋屑芯 薪邪 卸械薪邪, 薪邪泄-芯斜懈泻薪芯胁械薪邪 - 芯褌 褋褉械写薪邪褌邪 泻谢邪褋邪. 袨谐褉芯屑薪邪 褌褉邪谐械写懈褟, 泻芯褟褌芯 蟹邪褋褌懈谐邪 懈 薪械泄薪芯褌芯 褋械屑械泄褋褌胁芯. 袠褋褌芯褉懈褟 褋褗胁褋械屑 胁褗蟹屑芯卸薪邪 懈 写薪械褋. 袧褟屑邪 写邪 褉邪蟹泻邪蟹胁邪屑 泻薪懈谐邪褌邪.
袩芯褋褌械锌械薪薪芯 薪邪斜懈褉邪褕械 褋懈谢邪, 锌芯褋褌械锌械薪薪芯 胁谢懈蟹邪褕械 锌芯写 泻芯卸邪褌邪. 袟邪锌谢械褋薪邪褌 胁 褋谢褍褔胁邪褖芯褌芯 褋械 薪械 褍褋械褌懈褏 胁 泻芯泄 屑芯屑械薪褌 褌芯褔薪芯, 薪芯 褋褟泻邪褕 胁 械写薪芯褌芯 屑懈 褍褏芯 褔褍胁邪褏 袛械袥懈谢芯 邪 胁 写褉褍谐芯褌芯 袩懈薪褔褗薪 (芯褌 "袧邪 褉褗斜邪 薪邪 褋胁械褌邪", 薪芯 胁 褋褗胁褋械屑 锌芯薪芯褋懈屑邪 写芯蟹邪 - 褋邪屑芯 锌芯 褋褗褖械褋褌胁芯... - 蟹邪 邪褌械薪褌邪褌邪..., 蟹邪 褍卸邪褋邪 ...). 小褌褉邪薪薪邪 邪屑邪谢谐邪屑邪.
袠褋褌芯褉懈褟褌邪 褋械 蟹邪锌谢懈褌邪褕械, 卸械薪邪褌邪 械写胁邪屑 褍写褗褉卸邪褕械 泻芯薪褌褉芯谢 薪邪写 褋谢褍褔胁邪褖芯褌芯 褋械. 袧械 褋褗屑 芯褔邪泻胁邪谢, 褔械 薪邪锌褉械卸械薪懈械褌芯 褌邪泻邪 薪械褍褋械褌薪芯 褋械 械 薪邪褌褉褍锌邪谢芯. 小褌褉邪薪薪芯, 褌芯 械褋泻邪谢懈褉邪 胁 锌褉懈胁懈写薪芯 薪械蟹薪邪褔懈褌械谢械薪 屑芯屑械薪褌. 袙 啸邪褉胁懈 袧懈泻褗谢褋, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 孝携 褋械 胁懈写褟 胁 芯谐谢械写邪谢芯褌芯, 芯斜谢械褔械薪邪 胁 谢褍泻褋芯蟹薪懈褌械 写褉械褏懈. 袩芯褋谢械写胁邪 锌邪褍蟹邪: 袛褗谢谐芯 胁褉械屑械 褋褌芯褟褏屑械 懈 谐谢械写邪褏屑械 薪芯胁芯褌芯 屑懈 邪蟹., 懈 褋谢械写 锌邪褍蟹邪褌邪 - 锌褋懈褏懈褔械褋泻邪 械泻褋锌谢芯蟹懈褟! 袠蟹泻谢褞褔懈褌械谢薪芯 械屑芯褑懈芯薪邪谢械薪 屑芯屑械薪褌 懈 蟹邪 屑械薪, 薪褟屑邪屑 芯斜褟褋薪械薪懈械 蟹邪褖芯 褌芯褔薪芯 褌芯谐邪胁邪?!
... 胁懈薪邪谐懈 褋褗屑 褋懈 屑懈褋谢械谢邪 褔械 械泻褋锌谢芯蟹懈褟褌邪 械 械写薪芯泻褉邪褌械薪 邪泻褌 薪芯 胁械褔械 蟹薪邪屑. 袨褌胁褗薪 锌谢邪屑邪泻褗褌 褍谐邪褋胁邪 屑薪芯谐芯 斜褗褉蟹芯 薪芯 芯谐褗薪褟褌 锌褉芯锌褗谢蟹褟胁邪 胁褗褌褉械 胁 褌械斜 懈 褌褉褟褋褗泻褗褌 芯褋褌邪胁邪 写邪 泻褗薪褌懈 蟹邪胁懈薪邪谐懈. 袣芯谢泻芯褌芯 懈 写邪 褋懈 蟹邪锌褍褕胁邪褕 褍褕懈褌械 褋 写谢邪薪懈 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 谐芯 蟹邪谐谢褍褕懈褕. 袩芯卸邪褉褗褌 锌褉芯写褗谢卸邪胁邪 写邪 斜褍褕褍胁邪 褋 薪械胁褗芯斜褉邪蟹懈屑 谐褉芯褏芯褌 懈 薪邪褋褌褗褉胁械薪懈械. 袗 薪邪泄-褋褌褉邪薪薪芯褌芯 械 褔械 写芯 褌械斜 胁 屑械褌褉芯褌芯 屑芯卸械 写邪 褋械写褟褌 褏芯褉邪 懈 写邪 薪械 褔褍褟褌 薪懈褖懈褔泻芯. 袞懈胁械褟 胁 锌褗泻褗谢邪 懈 褌褉械锌械褉褟 芯褌 褋褌褍写 袨褋邪屑邪. 孝芯蟹懈 卸懈胁芯褌 械 芯谐谢褍褕懈褌械谢械薪 谐褉芯褏芯褌 薪芯 褟 褋械 蟹邪褋谢褍褕邪泄. 些械 褔褍械褕 泻邪泻 锌邪写邪 泻邪褉褎懈褑邪.
小谢械写 泻邪褌芯 泻薪懈谐邪褌邪 褋胁褗褉褕懈 芯褋褗蟹薪邪褏, 褔械 薪懈泻褗写械 薪械 褋褗屑 褋褉械褖薪邪谢 薪邪泄-胁邪卸薪懈褌械 懈屑械薪邪 - 褌械蟹懈 薪邪 屑邪泄泻邪褌邪, 写械褌械褌芯, 斜邪褖邪褌邪!
孝械 斜褟褏邪: "袗蟹 褋褗屑 屑邪泄泻邪 ...", "袦褗卸褗褌 屑懈", "袦芯械褌芯 屑芯屑褔械薪褑械" 懈 "袚芯褋锌芯写懈薪 袟邪械泻".
袦械卸写褍胁褉械屑械薪薪芯 锌褉芯锌邪褋褌褌邪 屑械卸写褍 斜械写薪懈褌械 懈 斜芯谐邪褌懈褌械 胁 袥芯薪写芯薪 褋械 褍胁械谢懈褔邪胁邪褕械, 薪邪泄-胁械褔械 斜谢邪谐芯写邪褉械薪懈械 薪邪 薪邪锌褗谢薪芯 芯斜械蟹褍屑械谢懈褟 褎懈薪邪薪褋芯胁 褋械泻褌芯褉, 泻芯泄褌芯 芯斜谢邪谐芯写械褌械谢褋褌胁邪褕械 械写薪芯 斜械蟹锌邪褉写芯薪薪芯 屑邪谢褑懈薪褋褌胁芯,邪 褋屑械褌泻邪褌邪 胁 泻褉邪泄薪邪 褋屑械褌泻邪 褖械褕械 写邪 褋械 褋褌芯胁邪褉懈 胁褗褉褏褍 懈蟹谢褗谐邪薪芯褌芯 屑薪芯蟹懈薪褋褌胁芯.
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袧邪锌懈褋邪褏 袙褗蟹锌谢邪屑械薪褟胁邪薪械 蟹邪 褕械褋褌 褋械写屑懈褑懈 薪邪 械写薪芯 褌邪胁邪薪褔械 褋 斜褞褉芯 懈 泻邪褎械胁邪褉泻邪, 锌芯褔褌懈 斜械蟹 写邪 谐芯 薪邪锌褍褋泻邪屑, 写芯泻邪褌芯 薪械 蟹邪胁褗褉褕懈褏 褉褗泻芯锌懈褋邪.
校褋械褌懈 褋械, 褔械 械 泻薪懈谐邪褌邪 械 薪邪锌懈褋邪薪邪 褋 械写懈薪 褋懈谢械薪 锌芯褉懈胁. 袣邪泻胁懈 蟹邪锌械褌邪泄泻懈? 袪邪蟹斜懈褉邪 褋械, 褔械 谐懈 薪褟屑邪. 袠 锌芯-写芯斜褉械.
袙 薪邪褔邪谢芯褌芯 褋懈 屑懈褋谢械褏 "谢械谢械, 泻芯谢泻芯 薪邪懈胁薪芯 蟹邪锌芯褔胁邪". 袩懈褋屑芯 写芯 袨褋邪屑邪..., 薪芯 褋褗胁褋械屑 褋泻芯褉芯 褋械 芯泻邪蟹邪, 褔械 褌芯胁邪 锌懈褋屑芯 械 写芯 袗谐褉械褋懈褟褌邪, 写芯 袞械褋褌芯泻芯褋褌褌邪, 泻芯懈褌芯 褋邪 胁褗胁 胁褋械泻懈 械写懈薪 芯褌 薪邪褋 懈 薪邪胁褋褟泻褗写械. 袧邪褋懈谢懈械褌芯 锌芯 褋胁械褌邪 械 褋胁褗褉蟹邪薪芯 褌芯褔薪芯 泻邪泻褌芯 褋邪 褋胁褗褉蟹邪薪懈 屑芯褉械褌邪褌邪 胁 小胁械褌芯胁薪懈褟 芯泻械邪薪... 袩懈褋屑芯褌芯 械 写芯 胁褋懈褔泻芯, 泻芯械褌芯 械 袨褋邪屑邪.
袪邪蟹泻邪蟹-锌懈褋屑芯 薪邪 卸械薪邪, 薪邪泄-芯斜懈泻薪芯胁械薪邪 - 芯褌 褋褉械写薪邪褌邪 泻谢邪褋邪. 袨谐褉芯屑薪邪 褌褉邪谐械写懈褟, 泻芯褟褌芯 蟹邪褋褌懈谐邪 懈 薪械泄薪芯褌芯 褋械屑械泄褋褌胁芯. 袠褋褌芯褉懈褟 褋褗胁褋械屑 胁褗蟹屑芯卸薪邪 懈 写薪械褋. 袧褟屑邪 写邪 褉邪蟹泻邪蟹胁邪屑 泻薪懈谐邪褌邪.
袩芯褋褌械锌械薪薪芯 薪邪斜懈褉邪褕械 褋懈谢邪, 锌芯褋褌械锌械薪薪芯 胁谢懈蟹邪褕械 锌芯写 泻芯卸邪褌邪. 袟邪锌谢械褋薪邪褌 胁 褋谢褍褔胁邪褖芯褌芯 褋械 薪械 褍褋械褌懈褏 胁 泻芯泄 屑芯屑械薪褌 褌芯褔薪芯, 薪芯 褋褟泻邪褕 胁 械写薪芯褌芯 屑懈 褍褏芯 褔褍胁邪褏 袛械袥懈谢芯 邪 胁 写褉褍谐芯褌芯 袩懈薪褔褗薪 (芯褌 "袧邪 褉褗斜邪 薪邪 褋胁械褌邪", 薪芯 胁 褋褗胁褋械屑 锌芯薪芯褋懈屑邪 写芯蟹邪 - 褋邪屑芯 锌芯 褋褗褖械褋褌胁芯... - 蟹邪 邪褌械薪褌邪褌邪..., 蟹邪 褍卸邪褋邪 ...). 小褌褉邪薪薪邪 邪屑邪谢谐邪屑邪.
袠褋褌芯褉懈褟褌邪 褋械 蟹邪锌谢懈褌邪褕械, 卸械薪邪褌邪 械写胁邪屑 褍写褗褉卸邪褕械 泻芯薪褌褉芯谢 薪邪写 褋谢褍褔胁邪褖芯褌芯 褋械. 袧械 褋褗屑 芯褔邪泻胁邪谢, 褔械 薪邪锌褉械卸械薪懈械褌芯 褌邪泻邪 薪械褍褋械褌薪芯 褋械 械 薪邪褌褉褍锌邪谢芯. 小褌褉邪薪薪芯, 褌芯 械褋泻邪谢懈褉邪 胁 锌褉懈胁懈写薪芯 薪械蟹薪邪褔懈褌械谢械薪 屑芯屑械薪褌. 袙 啸邪褉胁懈 袧懈泻褗谢褋, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 孝携 褋械 胁懈写褟 胁 芯谐谢械写邪谢芯褌芯, 芯斜谢械褔械薪邪 胁 谢褍泻褋芯蟹薪懈褌械 写褉械褏懈. 袩芯褋谢械写胁邪 锌邪褍蟹邪: 袛褗谢谐芯 胁褉械屑械 褋褌芯褟褏屑械 懈 谐谢械写邪褏屑械 薪芯胁芯褌芯 屑懈 邪蟹., 懈 褋谢械写 锌邪褍蟹邪褌邪 - 锌褋懈褏懈褔械褋泻邪 械泻褋锌谢芯蟹懈褟! 袠蟹泻谢褞褔懈褌械谢薪芯 械屑芯褑懈芯薪邪谢械薪 屑芯屑械薪褌 懈 蟹邪 屑械薪, 薪褟屑邪屑 芯斜褟褋薪械薪懈械 蟹邪褖芯 褌芯褔薪芯 褌芯谐邪胁邪?!
... 胁懈薪邪谐懈 褋褗屑 褋懈 屑懈褋谢械谢邪 褔械 械泻褋锌谢芯蟹懈褟褌邪 械 械写薪芯泻褉邪褌械薪 邪泻褌 薪芯 胁械褔械 蟹薪邪屑. 袨褌胁褗薪 锌谢邪屑邪泻褗褌 褍谐邪褋胁邪 屑薪芯谐芯 斜褗褉蟹芯 薪芯 芯谐褗薪褟褌 锌褉芯锌褗谢蟹褟胁邪 胁褗褌褉械 胁 褌械斜 懈 褌褉褟褋褗泻褗褌 芯褋褌邪胁邪 写邪 泻褗薪褌懈 蟹邪胁懈薪邪谐懈. 袣芯谢泻芯褌芯 懈 写邪 褋懈 蟹邪锌褍褕胁邪褕 褍褕懈褌械 褋 写谢邪薪懈 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 谐芯 蟹邪谐谢褍褕懈褕. 袩芯卸邪褉褗褌 锌褉芯写褗谢卸邪胁邪 写邪 斜褍褕褍胁邪 褋 薪械胁褗芯斜褉邪蟹懈屑 谐褉芯褏芯褌 懈 薪邪褋褌褗褉胁械薪懈械. 袗 薪邪泄-褋褌褉邪薪薪芯褌芯 械 褔械 写芯 褌械斜 胁 屑械褌褉芯褌芯 屑芯卸械 写邪 褋械写褟褌 褏芯褉邪 懈 写邪 薪械 褔褍褟褌 薪懈褖懈褔泻芯. 袞懈胁械褟 胁 锌褗泻褗谢邪 懈 褌褉械锌械褉褟 芯褌 褋褌褍写 袨褋邪屑邪. 孝芯蟹懈 卸懈胁芯褌 械 芯谐谢褍褕懈褌械谢械薪 谐褉芯褏芯褌 薪芯 褟 褋械 蟹邪褋谢褍褕邪泄. 些械 褔褍械褕 泻邪泻 锌邪写邪 泻邪褉褎懈褑邪.
小谢械写 泻邪褌芯 泻薪懈谐邪褌邪 褋胁褗褉褕懈 芯褋褗蟹薪邪褏, 褔械 薪懈泻褗写械 薪械 褋褗屑 褋褉械褖薪邪谢 薪邪泄-胁邪卸薪懈褌械 懈屑械薪邪 - 褌械蟹懈 薪邪 屑邪泄泻邪褌邪, 写械褌械褌芯, 斜邪褖邪褌邪!
孝械 斜褟褏邪: "袗蟹 褋褗屑 屑邪泄泻邪 ...", "袦褗卸褗褌 屑懈", "袦芯械褌芯 屑芯屑褔械薪褑械" 懈 "袚芯褋锌芯写懈薪 袟邪械泻".
April 29, 2015
This book is amazing. I would tell you all about it but I don't want to ruin anything for you.
The whole book is written as a letter to Osama from a woman whose husband and son were killed in a huge London bombing in which over 1,000 people died. They call it May Day (read: 9/11).
If you think this sounds really maudlin - it isn't. It is sad, funny, real, true, and breathtaking. This is not some sob-your-heart-out dime novel. It's a deep, brutal, personal look at human nature and tragedy.
The woman is flawed. She's not some perfect grieving widow and mother. Everyone in the book is flawed - and therefore three-dimensional and real. My heart was bleeding not only for her but for all the messed-up, suffering characters in this book who are just trying to get through life day by day. This book hits you where it hurts. It grabs you and doesn't let go.
It's worth mentioning that there was no disconnect for me re: a male writing from a female's perspective. Cleave did a great job of getting inside a female mind and I had no problems believing it. Points to Cleave for that.
"You've hurt London Osama but you haven't finished it you never will. London's like me it's too piss poor and ignorant to know when it's finished. That morning when I looked at the sun rising through the docklands I knew it for sure. I am London Osama I am the whole world. Murder me with your bombs you poor lonely sod I will only build myself again and stronger. I am too stupid to know better I am a woman built on the wreckage of myself."
The whole book is written as a letter to Osama from a woman whose husband and son were killed in a huge London bombing in which over 1,000 people died. They call it May Day (read: 9/11).
If you think this sounds really maudlin - it isn't. It is sad, funny, real, true, and breathtaking. This is not some sob-your-heart-out dime novel. It's a deep, brutal, personal look at human nature and tragedy.
The woman is flawed. She's not some perfect grieving widow and mother. Everyone in the book is flawed - and therefore three-dimensional and real. My heart was bleeding not only for her but for all the messed-up, suffering characters in this book who are just trying to get through life day by day. This book hits you where it hurts. It grabs you and doesn't let go.
It's worth mentioning that there was no disconnect for me re: a male writing from a female's perspective. Cleave did a great job of getting inside a female mind and I had no problems believing it. Points to Cleave for that.
"You've hurt London Osama but you haven't finished it you never will. London's like me it's too piss poor and ignorant to know when it's finished. That morning when I looked at the sun rising through the docklands I knew it for sure. I am London Osama I am the whole world. Murder me with your bombs you poor lonely sod I will only build myself again and stronger. I am too stupid to know better I am a woman built on the wreckage of myself."
June 30, 2020
"...胁懈薪邪谐懈 褋褗屑 褋懈 屑懈褋谢械谢邪 褔械 械泻褋锌谢芯蟹懈褟褌邪 械 械写薪芯泻褉邪褌械薪 邪泻褌 薪芯 胁械褔械 蟹薪邪屑. 袨褌胁褗薪 锌谢邪屑褗泻褗褌 褍谐邪褋胁邪 屑薪芯谐芯 斜褗褉蟹芯 薪芯 芯谐褗薪褟褌 锌褉芯锌褗谢蟹褟胁邪 胁褗褌褉械 胁 褌械斜 懈 褌褉褟褋褗泻褗褌 芯褋褌邪胁邪 写邪 泻褗薪褌懈 蟹邪胁懈薪邪谐懈. 袣芯谢泻芯褌芯 懈 写邪 褋懈 蟹邪锌褍褕胁邪褕 褍褕懈褌械 褋 写谢邪薪懈 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪褟屑邪 写邪 谐芯 蟹邪谐谢褍褕懈褕. 袩芯卸邪褉褗褌 锌褉芯写褗谢卸邪胁邪 写邪 斜褍褕褍胁邪 褋 薪械胁褗芯斜褉邪蟹懈屑 谐褉芯褏芯褌 懈 薪邪褋褌褗褉胁械薪懈械..... 孝芯蟹懈 卸懈胁芯褌 械 芯谐谢褍褕懈褌械谢械薪 谐褉芯褏芯褌 薪芯 褟 褋械 蟹邪褋谢褍褕邪泄. 些械 褔褍械褕 泻邪泻 锌邪写邪 泻邪褉褎懈褑邪."
March 21, 2017
Wat een hel om dit te lezen.. Weinig gebruik van leestekens, waardoor je soms 10 keer over een zin heen moet. Het had zo'n interessant verhaal kunnen zijn, maar dit is er eentje waarbij men niet er uit haalt wat er in zit.
Niet lezen, zonde van je tijd.
Niet lezen, zonde van je tijd.
May 22, 2013
Depois de ter lido "Pequena Abelha" e "Menina de Ouro" e de ter adorado os dois, faltava-me ler "Incendi谩rio", que 茅 o primeiro romance do autor.
Logo no in铆cio estranhei: a aus锚ncia de v铆rgulas foi coisa a que tive que me habituar, mas consegui faz锚-lo muito rapidamente. Na verdade, sendo este livro uma carta escrita pela narradora a Osama Bin Laden, ele est谩 escrito na linguagem que ela utiliza e n茫o na linguagem que o autor utiliza. S贸 por isso, j谩 merece ova莽茫o de p茅, porque nem sempre 茅 f谩cil abandonarmo-nos daquilo que escrevemos. Chris Cleave faz isso com magistral talento.
Este livro conta a hist贸ria de uma mulher que perdeu o marido e o filho num ataque bombista da Al Qaeda. Vamos conhecendo a hist贸ria deles 脿 medida que ela escreve a carta a Bin Laden. Vamos tamb茅m conhecendo a fundo esta mulher, as suas qualidades, as suas fraquezas, as suas falhas. Dei por mim a conseguir ouvi-la falar. Senti uma empatia enorme com este mulher que n茫o tem nada que ver com o estere贸tipo da hero铆na a quem 茅 arrancada a vida que tinha. Ela 茅 uma mulher de carne e osso, real, com uma humanidade incr铆vel. At茅 hoje, poucas foram as personagens de quem posso dizer o mesmo. Curiosamente, quase todas as que conhe莽o assim sa铆ram da "pena" de Chris Cleave.
Li este livro de um f么lego (demorei dois ser玫es a l锚-lo). N茫o consegui larg谩-lo, colou-se a mim sem me dar escapat贸ria. Queria mesmo saber o que tinha acontecido, como 茅 que ela sobreviveu 脿quelas duas pessoas que eram o centro do seu mundo. E, 脿 medida que o livro avan莽a, vamos percebendo que a dor continua a crescer, que o sufoco aumenta, que o cerco se aperta. Para mim, 茅 um livro a revisitar de vez em quando. Imperd铆vel...
Logo no in铆cio estranhei: a aus锚ncia de v铆rgulas foi coisa a que tive que me habituar, mas consegui faz锚-lo muito rapidamente. Na verdade, sendo este livro uma carta escrita pela narradora a Osama Bin Laden, ele est谩 escrito na linguagem que ela utiliza e n茫o na linguagem que o autor utiliza. S贸 por isso, j谩 merece ova莽茫o de p茅, porque nem sempre 茅 f谩cil abandonarmo-nos daquilo que escrevemos. Chris Cleave faz isso com magistral talento.
Este livro conta a hist贸ria de uma mulher que perdeu o marido e o filho num ataque bombista da Al Qaeda. Vamos conhecendo a hist贸ria deles 脿 medida que ela escreve a carta a Bin Laden. Vamos tamb茅m conhecendo a fundo esta mulher, as suas qualidades, as suas fraquezas, as suas falhas. Dei por mim a conseguir ouvi-la falar. Senti uma empatia enorme com este mulher que n茫o tem nada que ver com o estere贸tipo da hero铆na a quem 茅 arrancada a vida que tinha. Ela 茅 uma mulher de carne e osso, real, com uma humanidade incr铆vel. At茅 hoje, poucas foram as personagens de quem posso dizer o mesmo. Curiosamente, quase todas as que conhe莽o assim sa铆ram da "pena" de Chris Cleave.
Li este livro de um f么lego (demorei dois ser玫es a l锚-lo). N茫o consegui larg谩-lo, colou-se a mim sem me dar escapat贸ria. Queria mesmo saber o que tinha acontecido, como 茅 que ela sobreviveu 脿quelas duas pessoas que eram o centro do seu mundo. E, 脿 medida que o livro avan莽a, vamos percebendo que a dor continua a crescer, que o sufoco aumenta, que o cerco se aperta. Para mim, 茅 um livro a revisitar de vez em quando. Imperd铆vel...
December 20, 2013
This book has mixed reviews and I can't imagine why. Some people didn't like the author's choice to leave out commas, even though this is part of the main character's personality. However, I listened to the audio version and the reader was tailor made for the part. I really thought Chris Cleave did a magnificent job of imagining the craziness involved in a terror attack and the aftershock. He nailed it so well for me that I had to look up the storyline details to see if it was based on a true story...Nope...all in his imagination. I very much liked Little Bee too. These are definitely not fluff books and unfortunately some readers give them bad reviews based on the heaviness of the subject matter which I feel is unfair. It's like downgrading a children's book for being too simplistic. Or maybe a war novel because it's got violence and death. If readers can't handle books like these they should stick to Young Adult, romance, or Chick Lit. TORCH
December 15, 2020
[3.5] Another masterpiece by my favorite author Chris Cleave... another book that talks about the deep emotions of trauma and the implications of the aftereffect.
What makes his books special is that he keeps you engaged, he lets you read without stopping, and he makes you connect with the characters in different depth. I won't say that this is his best work, but I still enjoy his books.
What makes his books special is that he keeps you engaged, he lets you read without stopping, and he makes you connect with the characters in different depth. I won't say that this is his best work, but I still enjoy his books.
May 24, 2024
DNF @ 20%
You know I鈥檓 not one to DNF a book (I think I鈥檝e done it maybe twice before) but I hate the writing style in this and the callous way the female protagonist is described. The description of the gore is grim. This is just not for me!
You know I鈥檓 not one to DNF a book (I think I鈥檝e done it maybe twice before) but I hate the writing style in this and the callous way the female protagonist is described. The description of the gore is grim. This is just not for me!
August 22, 2012
How would London respond when faced with truly genuine fear? Written before the horrific events of 7/7, author Chris Cleave paints a dystopian picture of London as we know it in the aftermath of a horrific al-Qeada bombing where 1000 men, women, and children were blown to bits as they enjoyed a day out at an Arsenal match. The story is told through the eyes of an average working class East End woman who loses her husband and son in the attack. Incendiary is a profound story of unbearable loss, and the sensitive yet unsoppy portrayal of a woman who loses her son in such conditions is a magnificent achievement in itself. But what I found most engaging was how the character navigates her way through the remade London which emerges from the ashes of the attack. It's a bleak London where life carries on but only under a debilitating blanket of fear - and it's all the more bleak because it rings so very true.
This book imagines how both the government and the public would respond to such a devastating attack. The scenario is one of lock-down, in which the government loses all trust in the public and people have no faith in one another. Some of the Orwellian government measures do seem a bit far-festched, particuarly internment of Muslims, but others like increased surveillance and curfews, are not just within the realm of possibility but have actually been implemented by this and the previous government.
The most disturbing aspect is the treatment of people by one another. Yes, there is an element of stiff upper lip, but lips become so stiff that mouths aren't used to talk with others. Most people retreat into isolated lives carried out alone or with families in flats, experiencing the outside world only through television.
There is an amazing scene near the end when, faced with the threat of another imminent attack, 'the panic' takes hold. It is a slow descent into utter chaos, where people not only ignore pleas for help from their fellow Londoners but have no qualms about pushing others out of the way to save themselves. It shows what happens when the slow-burning, pent-up fear of life under the threat of terrorism suddenly erupts, and it's not a pretty sight.
Cleave is right: today's Brits are not the self-same people who, faced with a blitz of aerial bombardment in the second world war, kept calm and carried on. 70 years of convenience, of cheap fatty foods and evening spent relaxing on sofas in front of mindless television, have done much to diminish that. One factor is the early disintegration of genuine communities, where neighbours are only people who happen to live near one another as opposed to united people making their lives together in a shared space. Mid-20th century Britain was a tough, sturdy nation - that strength has melted away into fat, and it's a depressing thought how this new sort of nation would respond under similar threat.
That's what makes Cleave's book such a fantastic read: it demonstrates a deep and intimate understanding of modern Britain, and shows how that character would respond under extreme circumstances.
Beyond the bounds of the book, however, are glimmers of a less depressing interpretation. When a real terrorist attack hit London (coincidentally on the same day Incendiary was published), although government pushed ahead with its programme to dismantle civil liberties, the people themselves did not respond with the lock-down mentality Cleave portrays. And when London descended into riots last summer, the real crowds on the streets - the true majority in every sense of the meaning - were those who came out afterwards with brooms and bins, determined to clean up their streets and reclaim their communities. Cleave has put his finger on a very real strain of the British character, but it's not the only real strain, and there is reason to believe the dystopian London of distrust and fear he paints does not lurk beneath the surface after all.
Let's just hope we never have to find out.
This book imagines how both the government and the public would respond to such a devastating attack. The scenario is one of lock-down, in which the government loses all trust in the public and people have no faith in one another. Some of the Orwellian government measures do seem a bit far-festched, particuarly internment of Muslims, but others like increased surveillance and curfews, are not just within the realm of possibility but have actually been implemented by this and the previous government.
The most disturbing aspect is the treatment of people by one another. Yes, there is an element of stiff upper lip, but lips become so stiff that mouths aren't used to talk with others. Most people retreat into isolated lives carried out alone or with families in flats, experiencing the outside world only through television.
There is an amazing scene near the end when, faced with the threat of another imminent attack, 'the panic' takes hold. It is a slow descent into utter chaos, where people not only ignore pleas for help from their fellow Londoners but have no qualms about pushing others out of the way to save themselves. It shows what happens when the slow-burning, pent-up fear of life under the threat of terrorism suddenly erupts, and it's not a pretty sight.
Cleave is right: today's Brits are not the self-same people who, faced with a blitz of aerial bombardment in the second world war, kept calm and carried on. 70 years of convenience, of cheap fatty foods and evening spent relaxing on sofas in front of mindless television, have done much to diminish that. One factor is the early disintegration of genuine communities, where neighbours are only people who happen to live near one another as opposed to united people making their lives together in a shared space. Mid-20th century Britain was a tough, sturdy nation - that strength has melted away into fat, and it's a depressing thought how this new sort of nation would respond under similar threat.
That's what makes Cleave's book such a fantastic read: it demonstrates a deep and intimate understanding of modern Britain, and shows how that character would respond under extreme circumstances.
Beyond the bounds of the book, however, are glimmers of a less depressing interpretation. When a real terrorist attack hit London (coincidentally on the same day Incendiary was published), although government pushed ahead with its programme to dismantle civil liberties, the people themselves did not respond with the lock-down mentality Cleave portrays. And when London descended into riots last summer, the real crowds on the streets - the true majority in every sense of the meaning - were those who came out afterwards with brooms and bins, determined to clean up their streets and reclaim their communities. Cleave has put his finger on a very real strain of the British character, but it's not the only real strain, and there is reason to believe the dystopian London of distrust and fear he paints does not lurk beneath the surface after all.
Let's just hope we never have to find out.
September 8, 2011
Chris Cleave creates such memorable, credible characters with absolutely unique voices. The admittedly imperfect mother narrating this work in her singular, working-class, comma-phobic London voice grabs you by the gut. I didn't come up for air while reading this book. A fictional but eerily realistic terror attack rips through London and the life of one small family. The surviving mother writes a year-long letter to Osama bin Laden, addressing her anger, her loss, and her reactions (rational, intoxicated, or otherwise) as she watches her city become a high-surveillance police state and she tries to deal with a bottomless crater in her heart.
There is dark humor and a masterly use of cultural touchstones and daily details that really transport the reader to this average life. The smell of the flat, the shopping for treats for a child, a boy's handmade bedroom are vivid against the explosive backdrop of this tragedy were almost too vivid and too poignant and I found myself unable to actually keep reading if my kids were in the room playing. The description of the sleeping boy smelling of tigers and angels.
One of the things I really appreciated about this book and felt was most eye-opening was how much time Cleave spent exploring the class divide, and how the winners continue to win, even in a terror attack. There was great tension between the reactions of those personally benefitting from the brave new world and those grieving the old one.
Chris Cleave came to our branch library in Seattle for a talk I attended this spring and he talked about how he wanted his novels to be a jumping-off place for discussion about the hard questions in our lives today: freedom vs. security, retribution, and the value of a life. His first novel certainly accomplishes this. Because the book was released simultaneously with the London bombings, the work was too uncomfortably raw and the fiction was eclipsed by reality. Approaching the 10th anniversary of 9/11, I found this struck the right tone for me to really reflect, remember, and develop a new empathy for those who have lost loved ones to terrorism.
There is dark humor and a masterly use of cultural touchstones and daily details that really transport the reader to this average life. The smell of the flat, the shopping for treats for a child, a boy's handmade bedroom are vivid against the explosive backdrop of this tragedy were almost too vivid and too poignant and I found myself unable to actually keep reading if my kids were in the room playing. The description of the sleeping boy smelling of tigers and angels.
One of the things I really appreciated about this book and felt was most eye-opening was how much time Cleave spent exploring the class divide, and how the winners continue to win, even in a terror attack. There was great tension between the reactions of those personally benefitting from the brave new world and those grieving the old one.
Chris Cleave came to our branch library in Seattle for a talk I attended this spring and he talked about how he wanted his novels to be a jumping-off place for discussion about the hard questions in our lives today: freedom vs. security, retribution, and the value of a life. His first novel certainly accomplishes this. Because the book was released simultaneously with the London bombings, the work was too uncomfortably raw and the fiction was eclipsed by reality. Approaching the 10th anniversary of 9/11, I found this struck the right tone for me to really reflect, remember, and develop a new empathy for those who have lost loved ones to terrorism.
March 7, 2015
I had a lot of problems with this book. Cleave creates a woman writing a long letter to Osama about her life after an terrorist attack on a football stadium (it's London, by the way) which kills her husband and four and three month old son. The three months is a very important detail, Osama. Don't forget it along with that comma I just gave you. There's only one in the entire book.
I loathed this character. Not just for cheating because of her "nerves," but because of how she felt robotic and unnatural. It might have been due to the terrible grammar, but I never imagined this woman smiling, but rather flinching through life. Her PTSD consists of hallucinations of gruesome wounds to the people around her, her son being on fire, or other general chaos. I believed that more than her love for her child or her husband. Even when she did comfort, it got turned on like a light switch when other characters are in pain. Let's not mention her OCD to organize. Again, robotic like the ticks of a psychopath.
Some other elements I just can't believe.
1.The fact this woman could not be put in a mental institution for all the crap she pulls or at least in jail. She can just up and leave the hospital without being properly psychological analyzed.
2. No one ever says her name.
3. She could walk into Scotland Yard and demand and job after leaving said hospital. And get it.
4. Not have an STD after all the sex she's having or worry about getting pregnant.
I appreciate books that make me think. This one made me question all the wrong things. I was shown horrible after horrible person post-May Day when I refuse to believe they are the only survivors. PTSD is one thing, but all I was given was the back-stabbing Petra, the cocaine addict Jasper, the lying Terrance, and the bitchy dying curly-red head girl. And let's not forget our protagonist, plus her horribly behaved kid. Mr. Rabbit was my favorite character. I'll stick with him.
I loathed this character. Not just for cheating because of her "nerves," but because of how she felt robotic and unnatural. It might have been due to the terrible grammar, but I never imagined this woman smiling, but rather flinching through life. Her PTSD consists of hallucinations of gruesome wounds to the people around her, her son being on fire, or other general chaos. I believed that more than her love for her child or her husband. Even when she did comfort, it got turned on like a light switch when other characters are in pain. Let's not mention her OCD to organize. Again, robotic like the ticks of a psychopath.
Some other elements I just can't believe.
1.The fact this woman could not be put in a mental institution for all the crap she pulls or at least in jail. She can just up and leave the hospital without being properly psychological analyzed.
2. No one ever says her name.
3. She could walk into Scotland Yard and demand and job after leaving said hospital. And get it.
4. Not have an STD after all the sex she's having or worry about getting pregnant.
I appreciate books that make me think. This one made me question all the wrong things. I was shown horrible after horrible person post-May Day when I refuse to believe they are the only survivors. PTSD is one thing, but all I was given was the back-stabbing Petra, the cocaine addict Jasper, the lying Terrance, and the bitchy dying curly-red head girl. And let's not forget our protagonist, plus her horribly behaved kid. Mr. Rabbit was my favorite character. I'll stick with him.
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