Nothing can be so revealing and honest as a glimpse of the world through the eyes of a child, without the filter that adulthood and cultural expectations provide. J.G.Ballard is entirely successful in capturing that point of view in this novel, probably because this is a semi-autobiographical fictional account of his experiences when he was himself a child.
Eleven-year-old Jim is living with his English parents in Shanghai, China, when Pearl Harbor is bombed and the American and English residents officially become the enemies of the Japanese, who are already established there, having previously conquered the Chinese. Separated from his parents, young Jim lives for a time by breaking into deserted European residences and eating all the food left, before being seemingly befriended by a pair of American merchant seamen, who try to sell him. Eventually surrendering to the Japanese, he finds himself to be safest and happiest in an internment camp. When the atomic bombs fall and the war in over, Jim finds that World War II may be over but that World War III has begun, as China falls into the chaos of bandits, Chinese Nationalists, and Chinese Communists. He realizes that he longs for the haven of the internment camp and the Japanese.
Even though the experiences recounted here are not identical to Ballard's--he was indeed interned, but with his parents--one wonders if he still shares the feelings of Jim, about whom it is said, "Poor fellow, you'll never believe the war is over."
It is the honesty of Ballard in his characterization of Jim that this novel rises to the extraordinary and becomes real. His Jim is neither a helpless victim nor a self-sacrificing hero, but a realistic child with a survival instinct which drives him to ingratiate himself to whomever offers the most benefits. He is even puzzled by the self-sacrificial actions of one of his fellow internees. He behaves as I would expect a real-life resourceful child to behave who is without supervision and placed in brutal circumstances.
An award-winning movie was made of this novel many years ago. As I remember it, the movie was much more focused on the action and presented a much more heroic picture of the boy Jim. In contrast, the focus of this novel is on people and how they react to the chaos of war, which is most often in a survival-of-the-fittest manner without the patina of modern civilized behavior.
One last observation: This book was written in 1984 about the author's memories of 1941-45, and includes on its last page this statement: "One day China would punish the rest of the world and take a frightening revenge." Now that's chilling.
All in all, a very interesting book.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Michael O'Halloran by Jean Stratton Porter
This review comes with a life story. Skip over this paragraph if you wish. When I was in elementary school my tiny home town did not have a public library, nor did my elementary school (Can you believe that? It was in the 1950s.). Since I loved to read (or maybe lived to read), I often turned to my mother's books which she had kept since she was a child. A rich aunt had given her many very nicely bound books, including (as I remember it)most of Louisa May Alcott, classics by Twain and Robert Louis Stevenson and suchlike, the Penrod books by Booth Tarkington, and a set of Jean Stratton Porter novels. Out of all those, I most loved Porter's Michael O'Halloran; I read it multiple times, maybe 6 or 8. I still remember the plot, after these many years. So as I was thinking of books to buy for my granddaughters (9 and 12), I looked it up to see if it was still in print. Yes! In a 2007 trade paperback printing! I just had to read it again.
Now comes the sad part--although I once loved this novel above all others, I have now grown too cynical to fall into Porter's world, with its noble and wise poor people and unhappy and selfish rich people, and the saving power of nature. Of course, one would perhaps not expect my 1950s pre-teen self to have developed cynicism, but (sadly) I am afraid that today even my young granddaughters will not believe that such people and such simple solutions really exist. Oh, what a world, what a world.
Jean Stratton Porter was extremely popular in the early part of the 20th Century, estimated at one time to have 50 million readers. Although her novels were written for adults, because they are easy to read and include children in the cast of characters, they became popular for children, as well. Their good characters are invariably very, very good (and wise), and their characters with grievous faults are invariably persuaded to change their ways, most often by only a contact with nature and a brief talking-to by one of the good, wise characters. Don't we all wish the world was this simple. When I was 10, I believed it could be, I guess.
Michael O'Holloran is a plucky orphan boy of about 15, making his way by selling newspapers, who finds and "adopts" a beautiful little orphaned waif who has been severely mistreated and who cannot walk. Determined that she will not end up in the "Orphings' Home, to be raised in droves, not flocks, nor herds," Micky receives help in his parenting endeavor from kind, understanding adults who recognize his sterling qualities. Along the way, his instinctive wisdom helps the helpers to better their lives.
If one could suspend disbelief, this unrealistically hopeful story might be touching and uplifting. I just can't manage that any more, but perhaps less jaded readers might be able to. I will try it out on my granddaughters.
(Today, Jean Stratton Porter is most well-remembered for her novel Girl of the Limberlost, which has been adapted for film more than once.)
Now comes the sad part--although I once loved this novel above all others, I have now grown too cynical to fall into Porter's world, with its noble and wise poor people and unhappy and selfish rich people, and the saving power of nature. Of course, one would perhaps not expect my 1950s pre-teen self to have developed cynicism, but (sadly) I am afraid that today even my young granddaughters will not believe that such people and such simple solutions really exist. Oh, what a world, what a world.
Jean Stratton Porter was extremely popular in the early part of the 20th Century, estimated at one time to have 50 million readers. Although her novels were written for adults, because they are easy to read and include children in the cast of characters, they became popular for children, as well. Their good characters are invariably very, very good (and wise), and their characters with grievous faults are invariably persuaded to change their ways, most often by only a contact with nature and a brief talking-to by one of the good, wise characters. Don't we all wish the world was this simple. When I was 10, I believed it could be, I guess.
Michael O'Holloran is a plucky orphan boy of about 15, making his way by selling newspapers, who finds and "adopts" a beautiful little orphaned waif who has been severely mistreated and who cannot walk. Determined that she will not end up in the "Orphings' Home, to be raised in droves, not flocks, nor herds," Micky receives help in his parenting endeavor from kind, understanding adults who recognize his sterling qualities. Along the way, his instinctive wisdom helps the helpers to better their lives.
If one could suspend disbelief, this unrealistically hopeful story might be touching and uplifting. I just can't manage that any more, but perhaps less jaded readers might be able to. I will try it out on my granddaughters.
(Today, Jean Stratton Porter is most well-remembered for her novel Girl of the Limberlost, which has been adapted for film more than once.)
To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis
Into one medium-length novel Connie Willis has managed to include time travel, a mystery that needs to be solved, a look at privileged class Victorian England, a comedy of manners, three love stories, many allusions to and quotes from other respected authors, two extraordinary butlers, a hideously ugly piece of Victorian art, and a lovable cat (to say nothing of the dog), all written in imitation of the style of Victorian humor writer Jerome K. Jerome in the travel book Three Men in a Boat (which was subtitled To Say Nothing of the Dog).
The hero, Ned Henry, is a time traveling historian poking about in 1940s Coventry Cathedral looking for the Bishop's Bird Stump when he is called in to return a cat which has been inadvertently brought back from Victorian England by another time traveler, the ravishing Verity Kindle. Together they must attempt to correct her mistake before it alters history, with who knows what consequences. All sorts of wacky misadventures ensue.
This novel is classified as science fiction, and it won the Hugo and Locus awards in 1999, but it certainly does not follow the usual genre conventions. I would classify it as literary humor.
It is not necessary to have read the Jerome K. Jerome book to understand this novel, but a reading of that one certainly increases the humor of this one. Luckily, I just read Jerome's book a few months ago. It also helps to have read or at least to be familiar with the writings of Wilke Collins, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers, and P.G. Wodehouse, as they are all heavily referenced.
I am most impressed with Connie Willis's cleverness and ingenuity. This is a delightful book.
The hero, Ned Henry, is a time traveling historian poking about in 1940s Coventry Cathedral looking for the Bishop's Bird Stump when he is called in to return a cat which has been inadvertently brought back from Victorian England by another time traveler, the ravishing Verity Kindle. Together they must attempt to correct her mistake before it alters history, with who knows what consequences. All sorts of wacky misadventures ensue.
This novel is classified as science fiction, and it won the Hugo and Locus awards in 1999, but it certainly does not follow the usual genre conventions. I would classify it as literary humor.
It is not necessary to have read the Jerome K. Jerome book to understand this novel, but a reading of that one certainly increases the humor of this one. Luckily, I just read Jerome's book a few months ago. It also helps to have read or at least to be familiar with the writings of Wilke Collins, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers, and P.G. Wodehouse, as they are all heavily referenced.
I am most impressed with Connie Willis's cleverness and ingenuity. This is a delightful book.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
AEgypt by John Crowley
Crowley's Little, Big is one of my favorite books, so I was prepared to love this one, too. Sadly, I did not. Maybe I just expected too much.
The plot is rather complicated and fragmented, telling variously about historian Pierce Moffett in the 1970s; Peter Dees in the 1500's (a real historical figure who advised Queen Elizabeth and talked to angels with the aid of a crystal), Giordano Bruno in the 1500's (another historical figure, a learned monk who was burned for heresy for his views about God and the structure of the universe). All these threads are brought together when Pierce discovers an unfinished manuscript by another writer, which expresses in a novel the ideas that Pierce has formed to write a history of the ancient magic which has been lost from the modern world, which perhaps may be returning. He believes, "...there may be more than one history of the world."
Brought into this are philosophical and historical bits concerning hermeticism (from the teachings of Hermes Trismegistus, which concern magic and the occult), Gnosticism, Platonic thought, Rosicrucians, Aleister Crowley, astrology, the Tarot,and many other esoteric matters. For a reader not well versed in these subjects, even partial understanding must include some time spent on Wikipedia.
In Little, Big Crowley convinced me that the world of faery might exist within my own world, unsuspected by most. In AEgypt Crowley never convinced me of the existence of alternate histories, mostly supplying just academic theory and information. The magic was lost.
This novel reminded me of nothing so much as Valis by Philip K. Dick. That book also included many references to the same occult and esoteric matters. But here's the difference: While I did not believe in the world of Philip K. Dick, I believe that he believed in it. John Crowley does not seem to believe in it, only to know of it intellectually.
This is the first of four books in the AEgypt cycle, and evidently, one must read all four to reach some kind of conclusion. This one does not really end; it just stops. I don't believe I will read the rest.
The plot is rather complicated and fragmented, telling variously about historian Pierce Moffett in the 1970s; Peter Dees in the 1500's (a real historical figure who advised Queen Elizabeth and talked to angels with the aid of a crystal), Giordano Bruno in the 1500's (another historical figure, a learned monk who was burned for heresy for his views about God and the structure of the universe). All these threads are brought together when Pierce discovers an unfinished manuscript by another writer, which expresses in a novel the ideas that Pierce has formed to write a history of the ancient magic which has been lost from the modern world, which perhaps may be returning. He believes, "...there may be more than one history of the world."
Brought into this are philosophical and historical bits concerning hermeticism (from the teachings of Hermes Trismegistus, which concern magic and the occult), Gnosticism, Platonic thought, Rosicrucians, Aleister Crowley, astrology, the Tarot,and many other esoteric matters. For a reader not well versed in these subjects, even partial understanding must include some time spent on Wikipedia.
In Little, Big Crowley convinced me that the world of faery might exist within my own world, unsuspected by most. In AEgypt Crowley never convinced me of the existence of alternate histories, mostly supplying just academic theory and information. The magic was lost.
This novel reminded me of nothing so much as Valis by Philip K. Dick. That book also included many references to the same occult and esoteric matters. But here's the difference: While I did not believe in the world of Philip K. Dick, I believe that he believed in it. John Crowley does not seem to believe in it, only to know of it intellectually.
This is the first of four books in the AEgypt cycle, and evidently, one must read all four to reach some kind of conclusion. This one does not really end; it just stops. I don't believe I will read the rest.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Joyland by Stephen King
After being disappointed in the last few King books, I am excited to say that I believe this new novel is one of the best he's ever written.
Those who anticipate a horror novel will perhaps be disappointed, since this one has no really creepy bits and only a touch of the supernatural. Admittedly, King is the Modern Master of Scarey; the novel It gave me bad dreams and I still feel anxious when I think about it. But he is capable of excelling in other genres as well: post-apocalyptic (The Stand), psychological thriller(Misery), fantasy (The Dark Tower series), western (again The Dark Tower), historical (11/22/63), mystery (The Colorado Kid), and coming-of-age (many of his novels, most notably the novella "The Body").
Joyland is a combination of genres, as are many King books. It's a mystery thriller with a few supernatural aspects combined with a very convincing coming-of-age story. The hero (in every sense of the word) is a 21-year-old college student with a heart which has been broken by his first love who takes a summer job at an old-style amusement park, where he encounters a mystery, perhaps a ghost, danger, and the untimely deaths of innocents. Most of all he grows up.
King has an uncanny ability to delineate characters who seem so real you feel as if you could pick them out in a crowd. He is surprisingly adept, at age 60+, at conveying what it feels like to be young and confused. These talents are on display here in spades.
Many would denigrate King and classify him as a genre hack, but if a reader is looking for a good story with believable characters, an understanding of real people and how they behave in situations of stress, prose that is highly readable and natural, and even important themes that are relevant to real life, Stephen King, when he is at his best, is your man.
Those who anticipate a horror novel will perhaps be disappointed, since this one has no really creepy bits and only a touch of the supernatural. Admittedly, King is the Modern Master of Scarey; the novel It gave me bad dreams and I still feel anxious when I think about it. But he is capable of excelling in other genres as well: post-apocalyptic (The Stand), psychological thriller(Misery), fantasy (The Dark Tower series), western (again The Dark Tower), historical (11/22/63), mystery (The Colorado Kid), and coming-of-age (many of his novels, most notably the novella "The Body").
Joyland is a combination of genres, as are many King books. It's a mystery thriller with a few supernatural aspects combined with a very convincing coming-of-age story. The hero (in every sense of the word) is a 21-year-old college student with a heart which has been broken by his first love who takes a summer job at an old-style amusement park, where he encounters a mystery, perhaps a ghost, danger, and the untimely deaths of innocents. Most of all he grows up.
King has an uncanny ability to delineate characters who seem so real you feel as if you could pick them out in a crowd. He is surprisingly adept, at age 60+, at conveying what it feels like to be young and confused. These talents are on display here in spades.
Many would denigrate King and classify him as a genre hack, but if a reader is looking for a good story with believable characters, an understanding of real people and how they behave in situations of stress, prose that is highly readable and natural, and even important themes that are relevant to real life, Stephen King, when he is at his best, is your man.
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Nightmare in Pink by John D. MacDonald
This is the second of the 21-book Travis McGee series, and, I regret to say, is not nearly as well done as the first of the series, The Deep Blue Good-by, which astonished and impressed me.
This one takes place in New York City rather than in Trav's home base in Florida, and the strong sense of place is absent. Also largely absent are the thoughtful digressions. What is left is more the usual formulaic detective novel. That part is more than satisfactorily done, if that is all a reader is looking for.
The story begins when Trav's army buddy asks him as a favor to investigate the death of his little sister's fiance. As he tries to unravel the clues, he uncovers hints of an elaborate scheme to embezzle money and stumbles into an expected world of hallucinatory drugs, becoming a helpless victim of psychic experimentation.
In the end, it is not Travis who actually brings the villains to justice. That part is rather anti-climactic. The focus has shifted to his romance with the little sister and their love life. I will have to say that the accounts of their love making are very erotic (at least to a female), focusing not on various body parts and specific descriptions of actions but on feelings and emotions.
It will be interesting as I continue to read the Travis McGee books (in order) to see if his seemingly irresistible sexual attractiveness continues for the entire series. This is the only aspect that seems to me to be contrived, and surely it could not continue through 21 books.
I am hoping #3 in the series, A Purple Place for Dying, will be more satisfactory.
This one takes place in New York City rather than in Trav's home base in Florida, and the strong sense of place is absent. Also largely absent are the thoughtful digressions. What is left is more the usual formulaic detective novel. That part is more than satisfactorily done, if that is all a reader is looking for.
The story begins when Trav's army buddy asks him as a favor to investigate the death of his little sister's fiance. As he tries to unravel the clues, he uncovers hints of an elaborate scheme to embezzle money and stumbles into an expected world of hallucinatory drugs, becoming a helpless victim of psychic experimentation.
In the end, it is not Travis who actually brings the villains to justice. That part is rather anti-climactic. The focus has shifted to his romance with the little sister and their love life. I will have to say that the accounts of their love making are very erotic (at least to a female), focusing not on various body parts and specific descriptions of actions but on feelings and emotions.
It will be interesting as I continue to read the Travis McGee books (in order) to see if his seemingly irresistible sexual attractiveness continues for the entire series. This is the only aspect that seems to me to be contrived, and surely it could not continue through 21 books.
I am hoping #3 in the series, A Purple Place for Dying, will be more satisfactory.
Friday, June 28, 2013
The Doom That Came to Sarnath by H.P. Lovecraft
Second reading; first read in the early '70s.
I first became a fan of scarey stories when I was about 10, and my older boy cousin let me borrow from his collection of horror comic books. I had to read them in secret, because my mother had forbidden them, saying I would have bad dreams. As so often happens, Mother was right. I did have bad dreams, and I can still remember some of the plots and images today. But I was hooked.
H.P. Lovecraft, who wrote short stories in the '20s and '30s, is one of the acknowledged masters of this genre, influencing many who came after him, including Stephen King. His horror is not the jumping-out-at-you kind, but the kind that comes to you in nightmares when some horrible nameless, faceless entity is stalking you and you are sure you will die of fright (or go mad) if it catches you. His stories invoke the instinctual dread which certain old houses or locations inspire. His horror is perhaps the kind experienced by some who take LSD and have a very bad trip. (I assure you, I don't know this for sure.) I believe we all sometimes have the feeling at the fringes of our consciousness that very bad things may exist of which we are usually not aware. Lovecraft taps into that wellspring of fear.
One way he does this is with the style of his writing, which is consciously archaic, invoking a bygone age when people were less attuned to the strictly rational and more susceptible to instinctual feelings and superstition.
But it's in his word choices that he especially shows genius in capturing horror and disgust, being particularly fond of such words as "eldritch" and "flabby" and "putrescent" and "abyss" and "demoniac." He also uses alliteration to great effect, such as in "crawling chaos" and "sinister secrets" and "writhing of worms."
Lovecraft specializes in telling just enough to arouse fear and anxiety and letting the reader's imagination and subconscious supply the rest. One story protagonist says, "I flung myself into the oily underground river, flung myself into the putrescent juice of earth's inner horrors before the madness of my screams could bring down upon me all the charnel legions these pest-gulfs might conceal." He never describes the "charnel legions," but can't you see them in your mind's eye?
This collection of short stories comes from early Lovecraft, before he really hit his stride in the horror genre. It includes stories influenced by Poe, stories in the fantasy style of Lord Dunsany, and even one science fiction story. Other collections, especially At the Mountains of Madness, are more representative of the style for which he is most well known.
Certainly not everyone enjoys this kind of literature, but for those who do, this is a must-read.
I first became a fan of scarey stories when I was about 10, and my older boy cousin let me borrow from his collection of horror comic books. I had to read them in secret, because my mother had forbidden them, saying I would have bad dreams. As so often happens, Mother was right. I did have bad dreams, and I can still remember some of the plots and images today. But I was hooked.
H.P. Lovecraft, who wrote short stories in the '20s and '30s, is one of the acknowledged masters of this genre, influencing many who came after him, including Stephen King. His horror is not the jumping-out-at-you kind, but the kind that comes to you in nightmares when some horrible nameless, faceless entity is stalking you and you are sure you will die of fright (or go mad) if it catches you. His stories invoke the instinctual dread which certain old houses or locations inspire. His horror is perhaps the kind experienced by some who take LSD and have a very bad trip. (I assure you, I don't know this for sure.) I believe we all sometimes have the feeling at the fringes of our consciousness that very bad things may exist of which we are usually not aware. Lovecraft taps into that wellspring of fear.
One way he does this is with the style of his writing, which is consciously archaic, invoking a bygone age when people were less attuned to the strictly rational and more susceptible to instinctual feelings and superstition.
But it's in his word choices that he especially shows genius in capturing horror and disgust, being particularly fond of such words as "eldritch" and "flabby" and "putrescent" and "abyss" and "demoniac." He also uses alliteration to great effect, such as in "crawling chaos" and "sinister secrets" and "writhing of worms."
Lovecraft specializes in telling just enough to arouse fear and anxiety and letting the reader's imagination and subconscious supply the rest. One story protagonist says, "I flung myself into the oily underground river, flung myself into the putrescent juice of earth's inner horrors before the madness of my screams could bring down upon me all the charnel legions these pest-gulfs might conceal." He never describes the "charnel legions," but can't you see them in your mind's eye?
This collection of short stories comes from early Lovecraft, before he really hit his stride in the horror genre. It includes stories influenced by Poe, stories in the fantasy style of Lord Dunsany, and even one science fiction story. Other collections, especially At the Mountains of Madness, are more representative of the style for which he is most well known.
Certainly not everyone enjoys this kind of literature, but for those who do, this is a must-read.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)