Books

Out of mazy emotion

This is my review of The Cleaner of Chartres by Salley Vickers.

Although it shares with the bestselling “Miss Garnett’s Angel” the topics of church restoration and the ghostly background presence of a “Gabriel”, this novel has a sufficiently distinct storyline. A little exotic in her colourful skirts, Agnes works as a cleaner at Chartres Cathedral, whether as a means of forgetting the past or in atonement for some past deed is unclear until the end.

Switching between past and present, the novel reveals the sadness of her previous life after being found abandoned in his orchard on St. Agnes Eve by a kindly farmer who thinks she will be better off with the nuns than in a children’s home. Labelled “retarded” owing to her inability to read, she is struck by a chain of misfortunes as a teenager, with inadequate support from both the blinkered nuns and a bungling medical service. The ambiguity as to her guilt or innocence in all this and the tension as to how matters will be resolved in the present make this a page-turner, together with the wrily humorous yet also often poignant portrayal of a variety of characters, the beautiful descriptions of Chartres Cathedral which make you either want to visit it or wish you had paid more attention when you did, and the intriguing details on the history and mythology surrounding it – even if these are too often embedded in a rather clunky fashion into the monologues of the handsome hunk Alain waiting in his conservationist’s scaffolding to carry off the appealing Agnes.

There are a few too many coincidences in the plot, which occasionally teeters on the brink of Mills and Boonland. The greatest flaw for me is the tendency to digress into too much detail at every opportunity: when a character remembers finding her husband kissing the maid, you have to be told exactly which wines she had in mind on her unexpected visit to the kitchen, but some will find this adds charm to the novel. Knowing that the author has worked as a psychotherapist, I sometimes felt that she has been unable to resist the temptation to weave in too much of the welter of experience and analysis stemming from her work. Despite this, the story is in the main saved from mawkishness by her wit and insight. I think I found it more moving than the better known “Miss Garnett’s Angel” and recommend it, although I suspect it will appeal mainly to female readers.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars

The Cleaner of Chartres

“The Foundling Boy” by Michel Déon – Calm before the storm

This is my review of The Foundling Boy by Michel Déon.

A C20 take on “Tom Jones”, this novel’s original French title of “Le jeune homme vert”, denoting the hero Jean’s initial natural naivety, has been lost in translation to become, “The Foundling Boy”.

Jean is discovered in a Moses basket on the doorstep of a simple, kindly childless couple. The wife Jeanne claims him as her own to bring up, taking a stand against the attempted interference of Mme de Courseau, the imperious lady of the local manor. Jean turns out to be handsome, robust, charming and irresistible to women, yet somehow manages to remain fundamentally decent and unassuming. Despite doing quite well in his school leaving exam, Jean begins to drift through life with no clear aim. He takes the opportunity to travel, mainly to England where he accepts the hospitality of some wealthy or dubious (sometimes both) characters. When he needs money to live, or wishes to stay near his parents in rural Normandy, Jean works at a variety of dead-end jobs of the kitchen porter or nightclub bouncer variety. In the process, he learns a good deal about life, human nature and love. The urge also grows to discover his real parentage: he is not too bothered about the identity of the father which may never be known, but is keen to know who is mother is. The insights jotted in his private journal reveal a certain cynicism. For instance, he notes that keeping friends separate from one another is often a good idea.

The story rambles along with so many digressions that I began to suspect the author of padding out a thin plot. Some of the early chapters are hardly about Jean at all, but rather the local landowner Antoine Courseau. Bored with his cold wife and the duties of his inheritance, Antoine keeps taking off, often at high speed, in his latest Bugatti, drawn inexorably to the warmth and light of the Mediterranean coast and to his waitress lover Marie-Dévote. Perhaps a little shell-shocked by World War 1, Antoine seeks out old comrades-in-arms with whom he has more in common than his family.

The appeal of this book lies its powerful evocation of time and place, in particular France on the brink of World War 2, sleepwalking into disaster with the complacent assumption that, if it comes to it, the Germans will be beaten back in a few weeks. The coverage of events in England is less convincing, as are some of the more exotic characters leading an often extravagant lifestyle such as the mysterious Prince with his black chauffeur Salah, or the conman Palfy.

The author’s tendency to reveal the future fate of a particular character, or to note whether or not he/she will reappear in the story later is an irritating distraction – like having an over-enthusiastic person leaning over your shoulder to tell you what’s going to happen next – and this unnecessary device tends to break any sense of immersion in the story.

Yet, despite this and the occasional “longueurs”, I enjoyed many of the vivid descriptions, quirky characters, wry humour and amusing incidents enough to want to read the sequel, “The Foundling’s War” – “Les Vingt Ans du jeune homme vert” in French. Written very much from a man’s viewpoint e.g. of women, I suspect this is likely to appeal more to male readers.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars


The Foundling Boy
 

“Le Jeune homme vert” (Folio) (French Edition) by Michel Déon – Une vie pleine de promesses

This is my review of Le Jeune homme vert (Folio) (French Edition) by Michel Déon.

A C20 take on “Tom Jones”, this novel’s original French title of “Le jeune homme vert”, denoting the hero Jean’s initial natural naivety, has been lost in translation to become, “The Foundling Boy”.

Jean is discovered in a Moses basket on the doorstep of a simple, kindly childless couple. The wife Jeanne claims him as her own to bring up, taking a stand against the attempted interference of Mme de Courseau, the imperious lady of the local manor. Jean turns out to be handsome, robust, charming and irresistible to women, yet somehow manages to remain fundamentally decent and unassuming. Despite doing quite well in his school leaving exam, Jean begins to drift through life with no clear aim. He takes the opportunity to travel, mainly to England where he accepts the hospitality of some wealthy or dubious (sometimes both) characters. When he needs money to live, or wishes to stay near his parents in rural Normandy, Jean works at a variety of dead-end jobs of the kitchen porter or nightclub bouncer variety. In the process, he learns a good deal about life, human nature and love. The urge also grows to discover his real parentage: he is not too bothered about the identity of the father which may never be known, but is keen to know who is mother is. The insights jotted in his private journal reveal a certain cynicism. For instance, he notes that keeping friends separate from one another is often a good idea.

The story rambles along with so many digressions that I began to suspect the author of padding out a thin plot. Some of the early chapters are hardly about Jean at all, but rather the local landowner Antoine Courseau. Bored with his cold wife and the duties of his inheritance, Antoine keeps taking off, often at high speed, in his latest Bugatti, drawn inexorably to the warmth and light of the Mediterranean coast and to his waitress lover Marie-Dévote. Perhaps a little shell-shocked by World War 1, Antoine seeks out old comrades-in-arms with whom he has more in common than his family.

The appeal of this book lies its powerful evocation of time and place, in particular France on the brink of World War 2, sleepwalking into disaster with the complacent assumption that, if it comes to it, the Germans will be beaten back in a few weeks. The coverage of events in England is less convincing, as are some of the more exotic characters leading an often extravagant lifestyle such as the mysterious Prince with his black chauffeur Salah, or the conman Palfy.

The author’s tendency to reveal the future fate of a particular character, or to note whether or not he/she will reappear in the story later is an irritating distraction – like having an over-enthusiastic person leaning over your shoulder to tell you what’s going to happen next – and this unnecessary device tends to break any sense of immersion in the story.

Yet, despite this and the occasional “longueurs”, I enjoyed many of the vivid descriptions, quirky characters, wry humour and amusing incidents enough to want to read the sequel, “The Foundling’s War” – “Les Vingt Ans du jeune homme vert” in French. Written very much from a man’s viewpoint e.g. of women, I suspect it is likely to appeal more to male readers.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars


Le Jeune homme vert (Folio) (French Edition)
 

“Three Men in a Boat” by Jerome K. Jerome – Messing about in boats

This is my review of Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome.

When I read this as quite a young child, it seemed hilarious. I’m referring, for instance, to George and Harris rushing round in search of the butter, until realising that one of them had sat in it. Struggling dutifully through it more recently for a book group, it seemed rather silly and very dated, although I could still laugh at the succession of locals claiming to have caught the ever weightier trout encased on a pub wall, only for it to turn out to be made of plaster, when one of the clumsy three accidentally knocked it down.

I found a bit of research on the story much more interesting. Publication in 1889 was earlier than I had imagined i.e. not Edwardian. After the passing of the 1870 Education Act, and the extension of cheap rail fares giving people ready access the Thames, there was a sharp increase in the demand for amusing, easily read books and in the appreciation of boating as a pastime. This was perhaps a comic novel ahead of its time, much Victorian reading matter still being a bit sententious and worthy. So, there was a sharp contrast between the popularity of the book (which has never been out of print), and the snooty response of critics, even in Punch.

The author himself came from a once prosperous middle-class family which had fallen on hard times. So, despite his grammar school education, he had to start work as a young teenager, which obviously gave him a wide experience of life and the ability to relate to ordinary people. His unusual name was partly due to his father Jerome Clapp adding another Jerome to make it sound more distinguished. The “Klapka” came from a Hungarian who lodged with the family for a while.

I can see that what is really a series of amusing anecdotes, observations on daily life and snippets of local history on the areas bordering the Thames is appealing to us now in its innocence and nostalgic portrayal of a lost age. This probably remains a classic which you should read, the younger the better, although I doubt if a tale of three gormless middle-aged men rowing up the Thames more than a century ago would appeal much to this audience.

⭐⭐⭐ 3 Stars


Three Men in a Boat
 

Swallow whole

This is my review of A boy with potential: A choirboy’s sinister discovery (Crime shorts Book 1) by Rosalind Minett.

This well-written and expertly constructed tale sustains a sense of sinister tension to the end, but with underlying poignancy over the extent to which "oyster boy" – who ironically has misinterpreted the one piece of kind attention he receives – is a victim of other people's casual abuse. Although I agree that there is the material here for a novel, it makes a particular impact in its current concise format.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars

A boy with potential: A choirboy’s sinister discovery (Crime shorts Book 1)

The Children Act by Ian McEwan: Living by the rules

This is my review of The Children Act by Ian McEwan.

This slim novel is yet another example of “less is more” in that it makes a greater impact than many a long rambling epic. Fiona is a leading High Court judge, specialising in the application of the “Children Act” of the title with its double meaning. Her heavy and harrowing workload leaves little time to deal with the shock of an unexpected crisis in a longstanding and until now apparently happy marriage.

Always keen to be thorough and fair, she decides that the urgent case of a boy, stricken with leukaemia just short of his eighteenth birthday, who has supported his Jehovah Witness parents’ refusal to agree to the blood transfusion that will save his life, obliges her to visit him in hospital to gauge his capacity to make such a decision. Her good intentions are based on the principle that “the child’s welfare shall be the court’s paramount consideration”. In the ensuing drama, she learns more than she has bargained for about the complexity of dealing with a young person’s “welfare”.

Ian McEwan’s crystal prose with never a redundant word or a woolly sentence commands admiration, yet can make human relations seem somewhat clinical. Yet, I prefer this to a mawkish tone and in general his forensic analysis and clarity of writing serve to punch the reader with the raw emotion of a situation. Although everything is written from Fiona’s viewpoint, the reactions of the other players, both major and minor, are portrayed very vividly. I was completely convinced by the beautiful and over-sensitive boy Adam.

Although I understand why some readers have criticised McEwan for his focus on the privileged, upper middle-class world of a Gray’s Inn lawyer, for me this seems part of the point, if unintentionally: Fiona and her colleagues represent the confident, with taken-for-granted superiority, élite who make decisions on legal reforms and play Solomon in the lives of lesser mortals.

If the book has a weakness, it may be the somewhat condensed “telling” of a number of Fiona’s cases, combined with the author’s concern with current issues leading him to overload the plot with the world’s ills. You could of course argue that all this illustrates the almost frantic variety and stress of Fiona’s job. I also found the “climax” of the book is a little contrived, when Fiona receives what seems like bad news, without our being told what it is, just before going on stage for a piano performance, for which McEwan’s writing lost its usual spare precision and became rather pretentious and “knowing” about music.

This is a thought-provoking book on several levels: the right to decide on life and death, the psychology of ageing and the state of Britain. It is serious, compelling, yet lightened with touches of McEwan’s wry wit

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5 Stars


The Children Act
 

Dubious means to questionable ends

This is my review of World War Two: Behind Closed Doors: Stalin, the Nazis and the West by Laurence Rees.

This is a fascinating examination of the relations between Churchill, Stalin and Roosevelt. I had always assumed that after the defeat of Hitler it was too much hassle for the Allies to press on and drive the Soviet Communists out of Eastern Europe, particularly since they had shown themselves to be such resilient and determined fighters. It was a shock to realise how readily Churchill accepted the USSR’s retention of eastern Poland which it had overrun during its notorious pact with the Nazis in 1939-41. His glib rationalisation that Poland would simply be taking “two steps westward” was all the more ironical since it was the German occupation of western Poland which had “necessitated” the Second World War in the first place.

Churchill was also devious in appeasing Stalin by implying that he was about to launch a Second Front in France – thereby taking some of the pressure off the Soviets fighting in Eastern Europe – when he clearly had no intention of doing so. Despite his many faults and atrocities, Stalin was justified in resenting how the Soviets ended up bearing the brunt of the bloody battles with Germany, as indicated by the shocking disparity between the Russian and Allied death tolls.

In yet another ironic twist, Churchill and Roosevelt both failed to see how much they were being manipulated by the wily Stalin. They even harboured the illusion that Stalin’s hands were tied by some shadowy Politburo in the background. To observers, Stalin’s mastery was often all too evident. As Eden commented, “If I had to pick a team to go into a conference room, Stalin would be my first choice.” Although the author reminds us of the Kafkaesque repression of free speech in the USSR and punishment of able people who might pose some kind of threat to Stalin, Western leaders turned a blind eye to, for instance, the evidence that it was the Soviets who had massacred Poles in the Katyn area. On the other hand, what else could the West do when faced by the need to stop the Nazis? It is possible that, without Russia as any ally, Hitler would have conquered Britain.

Churchill’s ruthlessness is evident in his political decision to order the despatch of convoys to supply the Russians once they had become allies, even though he knew of the high risk of German attacks in Arctic waters: for him, a 50% or more success rate made it worthwhile. Even more pitiless, Stalin ordered the wholesale and undiscriminating deportation of the Crimean Tatars to the hostile arid wastes of Uzbekistan, because some of them had collaborated with Germans but it was too much effort to identify them accurately.

Although this is an unsystematic and therefore only partial account of World War 2, it is a book well worth reading both for those who thought they knew about the War and for others too young to remember it. The only caveat is whether time would be better spent trying to understand the terrible wars which are still raging at present.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5 Stars

World War Two: Behind Closed Doors: Stalin, the Nazis and the West

Sweet tart with a heart

This is my review of Josephine: Desire, Ambition, Napoleon by Kate Williams.

The unsophisticated daughter of a Creole family whose Martinique sugar plantations ran on slave labour, Josephine was shipped to France for what proved a tragic and short-lived arranged marriage. Widowed with two young children in the dangerous and unstable world of the French Revolution, she soon acquired the requisite skills to become the mistress of a succession of wealthy and powerful men, culminating with Napoleon.

Her extravagance was shocking in its excess, her behaviour manipulative and devious, perhaps the most appalling example being her eagerness to marry her daughter off to one of Napoleon's least appealing brothers, in an attempt to compensate for her own inability to provide the French leader with a son and heir.

Despite all her faults, the author is clearly on Josephine's side, and emphasises the qualities which made her attractive to men and popular with the public: she was graceful, a good listener, and kind to those in trouble. Her main achievements seem to have been providing an attractive figurehead to offset Napoleon's boorish and intimidating image, her public relations role in organising social events and dealing with people, and the private passion for gardens, including, exotic plants, birds and wild animals imported from abroad, which led her to develop the beautiful estate of Malmaison.

This is an entertaining biography with some moments of real poignancy, as when, having at last steeled himself to announce his divorce of Josephine, Napoleon still hankers for her company so much that he cannot resist coming over to Malmaison to walk with her in the rain.

On the other hand, the somewhat tabloid style and focus on the more sensational aspects of Josephine's life made me wince at times, or feel the need to look to other sources to verify the author's interpretations, particularly of Napoleon. She presents him as a capricious and crude megalomaniac, chronically indecisive at times, but over-prescriptive at others, a shameless sexual predator once success provides the confidence to demand "droits du seigneur". I agree with the reviewer who has criticised the "one-dimensional" portrayal, which gives an inadequate impression and exploration of his greatness.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars

Josephine: Desire, Ambition, Napoleon

Caves of ice

This is my review of The Ice Palace (Modern Classics) by Tarjei Vesaas.

Although this novel was first published in the 1960s, I have only recently come across it and realised that Tarjei Vesaas who died in 1970, is regarded as one of Norway’s finest writers.

Vesaas gets inside the heads of the two eleven-year-old girls who are his two main characters. Sis is intrigued by the arrival of “new girl” Unn who plays the loner, perhaps because of her mother’s recent death which has brought her to live with an aunt in a remote rural community. In her excitement over the prospect of an intense pre-teen age friendship with Sis, Unn plays truant from school and sets off across a large frozen lake to investigate the “ice palace”, which has formed at a distant waterfall. In this excellent translation by Elizabeth Rokkan, her fateful journey is one of the most striking pieces of description I have ever read. “Bent bracken stood in the ice like delicate drawings”.

Ensuing events are fairly few and simple in this short novel, but it becomes a gripping page turner by reason of the sustained tension, the portrayal of nature by turns menacing and of exquisite beauty, and the subtilty of the characters’ communication. This is a very Scandinavian novel, in which we really feel the long darkness of the winter night, threatening when one is alone; the strength of the steel-ice on the lake despite its tendency to blast “long fissures, narrow as a knife-blade, from the surface down into the depths” with a thunderous noise like gunshot; the magical Kubla Khan-like caves of the ice palace; the sequence of seasonal change from early winter ice through all-concealing snow to the eventual thaw. There is also the mysterious appeal of Unn who implies a secret she will not reveal.

If this remarkable and memorable book has a flaw, it is the structure towards the end in which a possible dramatic climax is revealed and then followed by something of an anti-climax. You could of course argue that Vessas is not interested in creating drama, but rather in portraying the events of ordinary life, in this case the natural development of a girl on the verge of growing up, learning from her experiences, and in rendering them extraordinary by the poetic quality of his prose.

I shall make a point of looking out for other works by this author.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5 Stars

The Ice Palace (Modern Classics)

“Don’t give up on idealism”

This is my review of No et moi (Littérature française) (French Edition) by Delphine (de) Vigan.

An abnormally high IQ has landed thirteen-year-old Lou in a class two years ahead of her age where, physically small by any standard, she is an introverted loner, with the added burden of being an only child whose mother has been traumatised by a recent family tragedy. Terrified by the prospect of having to give a presentation, Lou blurts out her proposed theme of “the homeless” based on a real interview. She has in mind No, a down-and-out eighteen-year-old who haunts the Austerlitz railway station in Paris, where she has aroused Lou’s interest and stimulated her overactive imagination.

It is apparent from the outset that the strong rapport and friendship which develops between the two is unlikely to lead to a happy ending in the real world. This well-developed story is saved from mawkishness by the humorous aspects of Lou’s eccentric hobbies and her tendency to take people too literally at times, together with what she learns about life from her dealings with No. Lou’s sense of outrage over the plight of the homeless makes one regret one’s own adult loss of idealism. Her anguish that reality is not like one’s utopian dreams is replaced by acceptance, even whilst observing the madness of the “normal”, “sane” world.

This story works well as a novel for both teenagers and adult readers, particularly those wishing to put their French to use in a very readable text. There are a few false notes, such as initial suggestions that Lou might be autistic, whereas she struck me as far too neat and conformist in class, well-organised and empathetic for this to be the case. Her crush on the handsome but rebellious seventeen-year-old Lucas, who has been held back for two years in the same class, is convincing but their relationship seems a little corny at times. It is of course necessary to the plot for Lucas to have neglectful parents who have left him home alone in a flat where the three main characters can hang out free from adult interference.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars

No et moi (Littérature française) (French Edition)