A frenetic whoooosh of Caribbean miserablism narrated in melodious dialect with a cast of unfortunates straining against the rage of an abusive paterfA frenetic whoooosh of Caribbean miserablism narrated in melodious dialect with a cast of unfortunates straining against the rage of an abusive paterfamilias. Ladoo鈥檚 use of onomatopoeic language lends the novel a primal power as the unforgiving climate becomes an antagonist as evil as the drunken father. An unpleasant and enraging read at times, the novel depicts without comment the fatalism (and absurdity) of the Hindu practices and mysticism that seem to pull these characters further into lives of paranoia, fear, and torment, and those looking for a life-affirming slap on the chops against evil will need to look elsewhere. This is a depiction of unending pain that throbs, thwacks, and howls throughout the novel in a manner you simply won鈥檛 forget when the book ends. P.S. The UK Vintage Classics reprint has a tacky, parodically Caribbean illustration for its cover that is offensive not merely on a design level, but is painfully ill-suited to the tone of the book itself. Whoever signed off on this eyesore should be pelted with cabbages for at least two months. ...more
A novel drawn from Boyle鈥檚 own time in Raymond Duncan鈥檚 (sister of tragic terpsichore Isadora) artists鈥� colony, this is a vivid, engrossing exploratioA novel drawn from Boyle鈥檚 own time in Raymond Duncan鈥檚 (sister of tragic terpsichore Isadora) artists鈥� colony, this is a vivid, engrossing exploration of a bizarre personality cult told in prose that has moments of mellifluous transcendence that left me stunned. The depiction of the two Russian noblewomen mooching a life in a seedy boarding house showcases Boyle鈥檚 skill for sardonic humour, while the muddled progress of her stand-in Victoria as she struggles to evolve in a realm of vain and duplicitous egomaniacs keeps the story unpredictable and challenging. An excellent introduction (for me) to Boyle鈥檚 writing. ...more
The shocking tale of Leo Frank (a Jewish man wrongly convinced of murder in 1914 Georgia) is told in an unusual subdued manner in this second novel byThe shocking tale of Leo Frank (a Jewish man wrongly convinced of murder in 1914 Georgia) is told in an unusual subdued manner in this second novel by legendary screenwriter, director, and latter-day Conservative crank David Mamet. Utilising a polished form of interior monologue, where Frank鈥檚 mental state remains inquisitive, lucid, and searching, and where the events of the trial and sentencing are more of a backdrop, strengthens the shock of the brutality happening around him. The meandering and pompous trains of thought that comprise the bulk of the novel showcase the depth of character research and skill with voice that inflames Mamet鈥檚 best stage and screen personnel, although some might find these digressions excessive. A quietly haunting telling of a scandalous racial tragedy. ...more
A hyper-Gallic countercultural curio that never quite matches the hipness of the blurb (Godard namedropped), as the protagonist spends the first half A hyper-Gallic countercultural curio that never quite matches the hipness of the blurb (Godard namedropped), as the protagonist spends the first half recovering from a broken ankle. This hobbles the pace of the novel, which post-convalescence spirals into a giddy teenage melodrama with all the wince-inducing self-importance of one鈥檚 own personal teenage heartache in prose that unfortunately begins to take itself too seriously....more
The last outing from Dixon鈥檚 alter-ego I. is another novel-in-stories poking into past wounds for wistful and comic effect written in trademark DixoneThe last outing from Dixon鈥檚 alter-ego I. is another novel-in-stories poking into past wounds for wistful and comic effect written in trademark Dixonese. Among the highlights is a modern breakup tale that has the violent desperation and pathos of an angst-ridden Victorian classic and a story exploring the passing of a former friend that captures the shrug of sorrow when a phantom of the past formally ceases to exist....more
Comparing this incessantly to the Tarkovsky adaptation in my head while reading created a strange readerly dissonance, where I struggled to accept theComparing this incessantly to the Tarkovsky adaptation in my head while reading created a strange readerly dissonance, where I struggled to accept the blackly comic tone and punchiness of the characters as my mind wandered into the mercurial majesty of the cinematic Zone. Textbook reader error....more
Iranian satire is not something one chances upon often in English translation, so pardon the impulse purchase. This collection of translated pieces frIranian satire is not something one chances upon often in English translation, so pardon the impulse purchase. This collection of translated pieces from Khorsandi鈥檚 satirical journal Asghar Agha (published in London after Hezbollah called for his execution in Iran) was published in 1987, and suffers from two issues: the humour is too subtle for readers not versed in the writings of the mullahs being parodied (or the translation of the humour isn鈥檛 successful), and the pieces are reacting to events specific to the 1970/80s, so the chuckles-through-recognition have long expired. The stronger moments here are sharp, cutting broadsides thrown at authoritarian violence, and have much in common with the Soviet satire of Zinoviev or Voinovich. (P.S. British readers will be familiar with the author鈥檚 daughter, the stand-up comedian Shaparak Khorsandi)....more
The one collection of short fiction from exuberant novelist Paul West contains a sequence of unapologetically recondite exercises in style, each outbiThe one collection of short fiction from exuberant novelist Paul West contains a sequence of unapologetically recondite exercises in style, each outbidding the other for weirdness or erudite blather. Other than West showcasing his wizardry with language, the stories in here are for the most part tiresome experiments. ...more
Dixon explores the erotic lives of awful people in this squeamish comic novel-in-two-novels. His trademark neurotic tickertape runs at full steam acroDixon explores the erotic lives of awful people in this squeamish comic novel-in-two-novels. His trademark neurotic tickertape runs at full steam across both novels, the opening 鈥楢bortions鈥� cataloguing the lovers Gould Bookbinder(!) has impregnated and the subsequent known and unknown terminations, while 鈥楨vangeline鈥� focuses on one recurring lover and her stream of phony and sincere endearments and rejections. As a comic novel exploring the cruelty, futility, and selfishness of modern relationships, where no one will commit until all specific character traits of the potential partner are met to exacting standards, Gould punches up there with Roth鈥檚 My Life as a Man for its exhausting candour....more
Before Philip K. Dick wrote the overrated Man in the High Castle, before WWII had even begun, feminist author Katharine Burdekin (who published her SFBefore Philip K. Dick wrote the overrated Man in the High Castle, before WWII had even begun, feminist author Katharine Burdekin (who published her SF under a male pseudonym) wrote this horrifying dystopian vision set 700 years into a Nazi-ruled Europe, which captures the medieval sadism of Hitler鈥檚 鈥渧ision鈥� with an unflinching eye. The novel has much in common with H.G. Wells鈥檚 discursive fiction of the period, i.e. light in plot and heavy on characters discoursing, and Burdekin鈥檚 world is one of knights and serfs, where history has long been erased, and the discovery of an old picture of the fat, frothing form of Hitler threatens to destroy the myth of his perfect Ayranness. Burdekin鈥檚 vision on the treatment of women is revelatory鈥攚omen are kept shaven-headed and illiterate in cages for forced breeding purposes, male children are removed from their keep鈥攕howing how the subjugation of women is always top on the agenda of fascists and tyrants, something we are predictably seeing play out again in the 鈥渇ree鈥� world at the moment. ...more
An unearthed fragment of a lost novel, War is a vintage burp of Louis-F, replete with the usual viciousness, vulgarity, and brutality of a world in scAn unearthed fragment of a lost novel, War is a vintage burp of Louis-F, replete with the usual viciousness, vulgarity, and brutality of a world in schism, with a curious focus on the masturbatory habits of the war wounded. Taken from uncluttered drafts, the text has broken sentences and muddled character names, lending an extra dimension to the improvisatory chaos of a novel on the improvisatory chaos of war. The UK translator鈥檚 introduction explains his use of Cockney dialect where the French dialect was untranslatable, but this ultimately reads strangely in a novel that is as brutely Gallic as snail en croute with champignon champagne. Towards the end we are treated to a ginger Scotsman mounting a French cocotte (twice) with a vigour and stamina that made me proud to be a horny-handed son of Saltire....more
Another exuberant folly from Burgess, part rambling reimagining of the end of Keats, part showcase for tedious comic verse. Romping historical fictionAnother exuberant folly from Burgess, part rambling reimagining of the end of Keats, part showcase for tedious comic verse. Romping historical fiction with a literary swagger was the domain of Robert Nye in the 1970s, Burgess鈥檚 effort is a cut-and-shut job concealed as an experiment. ...more
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