Books

“The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest” (Millennium Trilogy Book 3) by Stieg Larsson – A Satisfactory Conclusion

This is my review of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest (Millennium Trilogy Book 3) by Stieg Larsson.

I found this quite gripping, although I only read it “to complete the trilogy” and find out what happened at the end – after being very disappointed by Part 2 “Played with Fire”. This final section has a much more detailed and meaty plot and seems to be better written, not just short scenes with plenty of gratuitous violence for the inevitable film. The “Hornets’ Nest” reminds me of a soap, with different sub-plots and characters coming to the fore in turn e.g. Erica’s trials as the editor of a declining paper – I liked the “topical touches” such as her outrage that the bosses should award themselves large bonuses for laying off the journalists!

There is real menace in the questions as to whether Salander will be further attacked when lying vulnerable in the hospital, or whether she will be incarcerated again in a mental institution for the convenience of others. The dialogue in the trial scene is also quite dramatic and well-handled.

Some “professional reviewers” have described this as the weakest book in the trilogy, too rambling and tedious because the author’s untimely death prevented a thorough edit. I agree that some sections are too long and dry e.g. Gullberg’s involvement in Sapo – yet some of this would have come in handy to explain Part 2! As ever, some parts read more like Larsson’s notes for a novel, rather than the digested end product. Yet, I find some of the excessive detail quite interesting and even laugh out loud when, once again, he lists the various Stockholm streets down which characters walk, drive or stalk each other – this must be entertaining for Swedes in the know, but is meaninglesss to everyone else.

Although this can be corny and hammy at times (can Erica’s husband really be so long-suffering, and is it plausible she would not know where he had gone on his conference?), unpolished and clunky at others, as “pulp fiction” goes this is better than most – good for a long plane flight. Despite the tendency for the “good guys” to win out “too easily”, there is always the possibility that Larsson will sacrifice one of the them. Beneath the thud and blunder, some serious issues are raised about say, the importance of democracy and respect for human rights. I have always admired Swedish society, yet now realise there is an underside of corruption. I had thought Sapo ludicrous until the notes at the end made me realise how much Larsson has been “inspired” by sad reality. As ever, Salander’s super-hacking skills and vast illicitly gained wealth seem improbable and yet we live in an age transformed by computers. Lastly, some of the pathos of her position really comes through in this final novel, including the way she has been hardened and damaged by ill treatment, yet has the capacity to “learn” a degree of empathy, and a better way of living, from her contact with people like Blomkvist.

The “open-ended” yet positive ending also seems to me to strike the right note. The only loose end I could see was the whereabouts of Salander’s estranged sister Camilla. Perhaps, as already suggested, Larsson had a fourth novel in mind, which might also have included depriving Salander of the burdensome fortune which criminalises her to no purpose, since she has no idea how to use it.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars


The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest (Millennium Trilogy Book 3)
 

Self-important talent?

This is my review of The Finkler Question by Howard Jacobson.

You probably need to be a middle-aged, middle-class, urban-dwelling, arty, erudite Jewish male to appreciate this book fully.

The opening paragraphs irritated me enormously with Treslove's ludicrous fantasies about the women he met dying in his arms like opera heroines. Gradually, however, the narrative hooked me with the crazy roller-coaster of farcical scenes peppered with the dry Jewish wit that made me laugh out loud. Although the wordplay was at times too much to take, I particularly liked the Stoppard-cum-Pinter talking at cross purposes dialogues. The unlikely trio of friends, Libor, Treslove and Finkler were developed as distinct and interesting characters, arousing in turn dislike and irritation yet sympathy as regards the two younger men. The scenes between Treslove and Libor were very poignant. I also noted some telling little comments – such as the fact that part of Schubert's brilliance lies in the way he sounds as if he is improvising effortlessly music of great originality and beauty.

Although "not much happens" and there were quite a few points where my interest flagged, as in Treslove's obsessive speculation over the identity of his strange female mugger, and the meaning of her words "You Jew", or whatever it was, only for this particular incident to "fizzle out" anyway, the story gained pace, depth and some menace towards the end.

The final chapter disappointed me at first, and seemed a little tame and flat in its wording, yet was on reflection the only possible ending.

My feelings are mixed. I appreciate the quality of the writing, but it was a little self-indulgent or "too clever by half" at times. Likewise, the capacity to examine questions from all angles was sometimes tedious but also enlightening. I admire the fact that the author pulls no punches – but, as a Jew, he can of course "say the unsayable" in a way that perhaps a "Gentile" cannot. The anecdote about the Jew who had an affair with a holocaust denier went beyond the bounds of taste for me, but I could see on reflection that the point of the book was to cover every conceivable prejudice and twist associated with Jewishness. The author may in the process provide many readers with an increased understanding of "being Jewish" issues. Yet at the same time I did at times get heartily bored with the self-absorption, and endless agonising over being Jewish. Treslove's desire to become Jewish as a way of belonging was interesting (after my initial scepticism), but overdone to the point of becoming a "reader turn off". A slightly less neurotic character might have been more convincing and moving – but at the expense of some of the farcical humour.

I was touched by the relationships between "the trio" and the main women in their lives: Malkie, Tyler and Hephzibah. The descriptions of the latter's cooking – a mammoth effort and fifty pans to produce an omelette with chives- were hilarious, as was the image of her searching the bed for the small portion that was Treslove's. Portrayal of the mothers of Treslove's sons was less satisfactory. The male obsession with ogling women in wet bikini bottoms made me groan. Continual digs at the BBC as a ghastly workplace seemed like an overused "in joke" for friends reading the book. Some of the violence seemed gratuitous, such as Finkler's murderous lust for Tamara Krausz, and the overuse of the F-word by almost everybody.

So, I would recommend this novel but am not sure that it deserves to win the Booker, even though it reminded me at times of Saul Bellow, John Updike and Paul Auster…..Yet I have made a note to read "Kalooki Nights"….. (n.b. proved as unreadable as many reviewers have found this!)

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars

The Finkler Question

Absolute power corrupts absolutely

This is my review of Fatal Purity: Robespierre and the French Revolution by Ruth Scurr.

This very readable account of the momentous, chilling, chaotic events of the French Revolution distinguishes itself from the many previous versions through its focus on one of the arch-villains – the coldly fanatical and ruthless Robespierre. The author points out the many contradictions in this complex figure: although he believed that even those too poor to pay tax should have the right to vote, he became a dictator who suppressed free speech and people's right to defend themselves; despite his dislike of bloodshed, he pushed through new laws to speed up the process of guillotining "traitors"; although he lacked qualities of leadership, was reclusive, made sick by tension and was not a naturally good speaker, he was quick to identify and exploit opportunities to gain power; he prided himself on being morally "incorruptible", yet fell prey to jealousy of talented revolutionaires such as Danton, and saw them as rivals who must be destoyed.

Ruth Scurr provides somes explanations for his personality and behaviour – the death of his mother when he was still very young, the influence of the College where he was "indoctrinated" with ideas of the republic in classical Rome and Greece. Yet, it remains unclear to what extent his ideas became more extreme over time, or whether he suppressed his fanaticism until there was a chance to exercise power. I was particularly struck by the way he rejected the atheism which you might expect to arise from the revolution, and the great arrogance with which he concocted single-handed the "new religion" of worship of "The Supreme Being".

As the book progressed, I became more convinced that Robespierre was mentally unstable and psychopathic, often changing his mind, indulging in very exaggerated language, and turning rapidly against former colleagues for whom he appeared to feel no empathy.

Ruth Scurr has done a good job overall, and obviously has to demonstrate her academic credentials. In general, I could have done with less detail and more emphasis on key events, players and their relationships. At times, I realised too late that a faction or individual was important, and had to use the index to search back and refresh my memory, only to find that e.g. the "Hébertistes" weren't explained as clearly as I would have liked. The important coverage of Robespierre's final bloodthirsty summer and his own death seemed too rushed. I also found irritating the author's tendency to imagine Robespierre doing or thinking in a certain way e.g. her analysis of his final scream seemed a bit "over the top".

Despite a few reservations, this book left me wanting to read more about the French Revolution and some of the other characters who fell by the wayside before Robespierre – Danton in particular caught my interest.

So, I recommend this biography to anyone wanting to increase their understanding of a fascinating period in history. If you are pressed for time, the author's introduction gives you quite a useful summary of Robespierre as a person.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 Stars

Fatal Purity: Robespierre and the French Revolution

Unsure how to react……

This is my review of Season of Migration to the North (Penguin Modern Classics) by Tayeb Salih.

This beautifully written translation (so presumably the original language is also beautiful) can be read in one sitting, although rushing it is likely to mean getting less out of it. Most vivid for me are the descriptions of life in a remote village on the floodplain of the Nile, and the terrible heat of the Saharan sun. I particularly like the scene at nightfall in the desert, when it was at last cool enough for people to come alive, so that, nomads and travellers alike, were drawn together in an impromptu feast of eating and dancing.

However, I think the aim of the story is to explore the interaction between "western" and North African Islamic culture. In some ways it seems to me quite dated: published in the 60s, it describes a Britain that was still imperialist, very class divided and far less "multicultural" and concerned with issues of sexual and racial equality than is now the case. So, what I take to be one man's fictional taking of vengeance on the west by seducing and betraying unstable English women seems in some ways less shocking than the current real situation in which disaffected muslims may be driven to terrorism. "The Reluctant Fundamentalist" is more relevant now.

I do not fully understand this work. The ways in which talented people from developing countries may suffer or be damaged by colonisation seemed to me to get muddled up with the individual drama of a Mustafa, a flawed, even psychopathic individual who gets drawn into sexual violence for reasons which may have little to do with the arrogance of westerners encountered – some of whom were good to him, plus there is the contrast of the narrator who seems able to cope with the cultural shock of being educated in the west.

The climax of the book in which the narrator enters the locked room to find Mustafa's ultimate secrets seemed to me to be exaggerated and ludicrous.

In the end, I am left a little disappointed, since the book begins with such promise. The final chapter is an interesting allegory, in which perhaps the Nile – powerful life giver yet also potential destroyer is likened to "alien western culture".

I can see that this book can give rise to stimulating discussion e.g. about the position of women – their abuse in both "north" and "south" – as Salih chooses to make the division, the respective values of different cultures – even what the novel is really about. However, I could wish that the author had not chosen to focus so much on the sexual relations between apparently disturbed individuals.

⭐⭐⭐ 3 Stars

Season of Migration to the North (Penguin Modern Classics)

Creative and Moving Historical Fiction with a Difference

This is my review of The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell.

The gruesome opening chapter ends on a positive note, which indicates the tone of the novel as a whole. After only a few pages, I felt in the hands of a skilled storyteller. The plot is unusual for western readers: the intrigue and plotting between often corrupt members of the Dutch East India Company, and the world of Imperial Japan at the dawn of the C19 – a land so enclosed that the traders have to operate from an artificial island in the harbour of Nagasaki – a touch of bitter irony here when you consider the fate of that city as the recipient of an American atomic bomb.

I enjoyed the deft plotting, varied cast of characters and originality of the first section. When the plot moves on to focus on the claustrophobic world of an enclosed Japanese shrine, it becomes more of a traditional escape thriller, and a bit "over the top" at times. However, the frequent twists are often the reverse of what one would expect, and eventually the threads all tie together to give a satisfying ending, with deeper food for thought about the different values of the two main cultures involved – European versus Japanese – the importance of "honour" or integrity and nature of personal happiness.

Mitchell seems to have an impressive knowledge of Japanese history and language. I like his style, in particular the interweaving of dialogue, the inner thoughts of the speakers, and descriptions. There are some poetic passages, as good as Dylan Thomas's "Under Milkwood", but it never becomes heavy or pretentious.

At various points I was also reminded of Wilkie Collins, Mark Twain (Huckleberry Finn), Somerset Maugham's tales of the far east, Umberto Eco (Name of the Rose) or Patrick White's sea stories (but this is more digestible than the last-named).

Apart from being well-written, I found this an exciting page turner which I wanted to finish – better to my mind (although less original) than "Cloud Atlas" because of the sustained and complex plotting, the humour, and the fact that one comes to care about the characters – tension is increased by the fact Mitchell is clearly prepared to kill them off ruthlessly it it serves the plot.

My only tiny criticisms are that I am not sure the twee sketches add much and some sentences in foreign languages e.g. Latin tags are not translated, which is frustrating.

Overall, I now understand the hype surrounding David Mitchell, and this would have made a deserving winner of the Booker…..

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5 Stars

The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet

Off the Rails

This is my review of The People’s Train by Thomas Keneally.

Years ago I gave up reading Schindler's Ark since the dry detail and plodding plot made it too tedious – it took Spielberg's vision to make it into the poignant and dramatic film which did justice to the true story.

A few chapters into "The People's Train", which I had to read for a book group, my old reservations about Keneally's writing began to surface. This book reads like an exercise into how not to write a novel. It is not that the plot lacks inherent interest: a charismatic working class political activist in the dying days of the tsarist regime takes refuge in Brisbane where he tries to galvanise the tramworkers and sheep shearers into strike action and discovers that democracies can be as oppressive as dictatorships. Then he returns to Russia to take part in the 1917 Revolution. The book appears to be based on thorough research, and it contains a few striking dramatic situations (which I cannot spoil by revealing). It raises some interesting moral issues about direct action, such as why people may be more shocked about a communist revolutionary marrying a rich woman to use her money for the cause than by an idealistic young woman blowing up an aristocrat with a bomb.

No, what troubled me was the "tin ear" quality of much of the writing and the rambling structure. The book was like a first draft which needs to be reshaped and honed. The style is firmly placed at the "telling not showing" end of the spectrum. Thus, dialogues are often unnatural, used to give the reader information rather than reveal the personalities and interrelationships of the characters. The latter are two-dimensional and underdeveloped. The two different voices used for the first person narration, initially the Russian Artem and then the Aussie Paddy Dykes in the second part, sound too much the same. Paddy's record in particular suffers from the problem of covering events at which he was not present and could not have understood much of anyway because conducted in Russian!

The small number of dramatic scenes tend to be handled so clumsily that most of the potential tension, suspense and emotional power is stripped from them. The reader is subjected to a myriad of unimportant details. I suppose that the tedium of political activism – endless meetings and reports – could be realistic but does not make for a gripping read. Yet I would save my greatest criticism for the lamentable sex scenes, for which strong men lapse into cringe-making bathos. To quote:

XX " and I took to the single bed the place offered and partly sated and partly enlarged our hunger for each other. The bed was enlarged too, so that it seemed a valid arena for us. She proved all that could be imagined: a superb, white, richly curved creation, generous enough to let me see that much. Still, there was a discretion and modesty in the way she went about it – is it crass to say that in large part her outer garments remained undisturbed?"

Not surprisingly, this relationship does not last!

The conclusion of the book, I think meant to be a moment of climax with hints of future disappointments, is in fact too weak.

With editing, I could respect this approach to writing as biography or popular history, but as fiction it fails.

⭐⭐ 2 Stars

The People’s Train

Benjamin Franklin – Larger than Life Enlightenment Man

This is my review of Benjamin Franklin: An American Life by Walter Isaacson.

Vivid and gripping as a "good" novel, based on scholarly detail but always crystal clear, this is one of the best biographies I have read. My knowledge of Franklin was limited to his invention of the lightning conductor. Then, when his name cropped up in a book on Tom Paine, I realised that he was also a statesman, involved in the American Revolution and establishment of a new democratic republic. In fact, he was the epitome of "Eighteenth Century Enlightenment Man" – the kind of "all rounder" it was possible to be in the 1700s. Initially a printer from humble origins, he became a journalist, social reformer, promoter of self improvement through discussion groups, philosopher, and eventually Postmaster for the whole of America, in addition to the roles already mentioned. And all the time, right into his eighties, tirelessly inquisitive, he was observing the world and coming up with theories about how, say, to design efficient stoves and street lights, make boats go faster, avoid colds through exercise, reduce lead poisoning – he even created a musical instrument called the armonica, based on running a wet finger round a bowl, which Marie Antoinette took up playing!…. Then there were his social experiments, such as identifying thirteen virtues needed in life, and then trying to develop them week-by-week in a cycle!

Alongside all the veneration, he has been criticised fiercely for his pragmatism and over-readiness to compromise, said to stem from a lack of spiritual depth and absence of real passion and imagination – Keats condemned him as "full of mean and thrifty maxims". However, if you are a supporter of the Enlightenment, you could argue that in practice Franklin was capable of showing great vision and tolerance. He saw before others the need for the American colonies to work together, and used his great powers of negotiation and chess-playing skills – some would say manipulation – to obtain support from the French while managing to keep independent from their designs, then agree a peace with the British which gave America independence. When in his eighties, he was a prime move in agreeing a Constitution which has lasted to this day.

You can take this book on two levels. On one hand it is an entertaining yet thought-provoking analysis of a complex, interesting yet inevitably flawed man. For much of his life he made a point of being very industrious, relatively frugal, and was more than a bourgeois soul bent on making himself rich. His creed was to do what would make life better for people in general and oneself in the process, rather than a belief in the oppressive and divisive religious dogma which many Puritans had carried to the New World. It is hard not to be amazed and impressed by his vast energy, curiosity and inventiveness. The author conveys well what made Franklin so popular and effective: his obvious charm, ability to get on with a wide variety of people – the portrayal of his relations with other famous players such as the uptight John Adams is fascinating – frequent acts of generosity and such skills in communication that his self-deprecating wit and wisdom can speak to us now after more than two centuries. Yet, he was clearly capable of very devious behaviour to obtain his ends and often displayed a callous neglect towards close relatives, such as his wife, and was cruelly unforgiving towards his son in later life, despite having taken responsibility for him when an illegitimate infant.

On another level, this is an informative account of the development of America from a set of colonies to an independent republic. The American author may be a touch complacent about the current state of his country's democracy, but that is not down to Benjamin Franklin.

Anyway, seek this out since it deserves to be read more than many "hyped up" books.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5 Stars

Benjamin Franklin: An American Life

The Elegance of the Hedgehog

This is my review of The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery,Alison Anderson (Translator).

My book group was polarised by this unusual tale. Half enjoyed it as a humorous satire of the middle class Parisian intelligentsia, and their obsession with teaching philosophy even to adolescents. These readers were touched by Renée, the self-educated and improbably knowledgeable Parisian concierge, who goes to extreme lengths to conceal her learning and forms a romantic attachment to a wealthy and highly cultured Japanese gentlemen. The rest (including me) were irritated by the thread of arrogance and unjustified sense of superiority which ran through the tale, with its judgemental main characters (concierge Renée and improbably precocious twelve-year old Paloma) and the lengthy passages of philosophy (on, say, the critique of phenomenology, the theories of William of Ockham, or the meaning of art) presented in an intolerably overblown prose which does not translate well into English.

The translation jars in places – "eructation", "time is sublimed", "deleterious hierarchies", "Hardcore autism that no cat would importune". I could go on, but all these examples seem over-literal translations from the French.

What troubled me most was uncertainty as to where fiction ends and the author's prejudices and pet philosophies (she apparently teaches this subject) begin. I was also irritated by Renée's lack of insight e.g. inverted snobbery towards others, and her failure to use her education to stop stereotyping and so misjudging her wealthy neighbours -apart from the Japanese Kakuro who is seen through rose-tinted spectacles.

There are plus factors in the form of some entertaining comic dialogues e.g. when Renée encounters two neighbours who fail to recognise her since she is out of her usual milieu, on a date with Kakuro, and thought-provoking insights on e.g. the superiority of sliding doors, or the meaning of the moment when a rose dies – other readers will no doubt find different examples that strike a chord.

If only this book could have been written with a defter touch, and more narration of events as they arose rather than reported in the pages of dry or pretentious journals, I would have rated it much more highly.

⭐⭐⭐ 3 Stars

The Elegance of the Hedgehog

Absence of Mind

This is my review of Absence of Mind: The Dispelling of Inwardness from the Modern Myth of the Self (Terry Lectures) (The Terry Lectures) by Marilynne Robinson.

In reading this slim volume of four lectures, I wanted, as an atheist, to see what powerful arguments this award-winning author would bring to bear against the modern movement to use a scientific approach to refute religion. I was somewhat disappointed by the limited scope of her attack on say, Dawkins or Pinker. Behind the grammatically perfect but convoluted sentences, peppered with "hermeneuticization" and "autochthonous", her thesis seems to be that the "objectivity" of science is sterile and rigid in its denial of the aspects of the human mind that one might wish to label "the soul". Also, the very objectivity or "correctness" of science is itself open to question, since e.g. the world of physics is continually challenged and changed.

I agree with her reservations over the wave of "parascientific literature", which I take to be "pop psychology" which increasingly tells us what to think and replaces religion for some people, even affects the world of work, through "management training" and "performance management".

One of the most interesting sections for me is the presentation of Freud as a man whose theories may well have been in a part a reaction to the persecuted status of the Jews in Europe. I do not know what support this theory might find with experts.

Her choice of thinkers on whom to focus – Freud, Darwin, Comte, William James, Dawkins, Dennett, etc. assumes a good level of prior knowledge. In a lecture this may be fair enough. Yet I feel that the book falls between two stools. To make a mark with lay readers, there is a need for more explanation of philosophical ideas. For those already familiar with the ideas cited, her message seems rather slight.

I was left wanting to find out more about philosophy but my response to the author's argument was to say, "Yes, but just because some scientists may be wrong doesn't make right the kind of woolly spirituality one finds in the characters in her novels." She does not address the point that one may choose to be an atheist, because one's observations and experience make it impossible to be otherwise, without losing sight of the "beauty and strangeness of life".

⭐⭐⭐ 3 Stars

Absence of Mind: The Dispelling of Inwardness from the Modern Myth of the Self (Terry Lectures) (The Terry Lectures)

Moore is not Less is More

This is my review of A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore.

Some major critics describe this book as "life-changing". That seems to be excessive praise. Amateur reviewers tend to observe that this novel is less successful than the wry, poetical short stories which are Moore's forte.

With this my only experience of her writing, I found the plot potentially sufficient for a novel and ripe with possiblities. A couple "purchase" the adoption of a mixed race child: their utter unsuitability for this, and the rotten state of their marriage, gradually become apparent. This is observed by Tassie, their exploited childminder, a naive and inexperienced yet perceptive college student, who is brought out of her dreamy state of delayed adolesence by a chain of harsh doses of reality which form the climax of the novel.

Examples of the positive aspects of the book include vivid descriptions of the weather and wildlife, the witty comedy of the egocentric non-communication of the Wednesday night mixed raced adoption parents' support group (don't recall the precise title) and some agonising desciptions of the pain of bereavement. For the funeral scene near the end, I would give five stars.

However, flashes of brilliance are too often obscured by some very self-indulgent writing. The author cannot resist going off at a tangent, piling digression on digression, in overlong and often confusing sentences. Having made a point, she just goes on and on, sometimes losing the reader completely – especially if not au fait with the American cultural allusions. She does not know when to stop! Some scenes appear unnecessary e.g. a whole chapter given to Tassie eating a meal in her employer's empty restaurant, taking up space which could have been used to develop the plot itself more. Then there is the obsession with word play and puns. This may work well in a Carol Ann Duffy-style poem, but is often inappropriate here, especially when not very funny in the first place.

This "experimental" writing inevitably means that some bits will work with one reader and not another. However, it runs the risk that too much does not work with most people. This matters because the rambling approach destroys the potential drama of some scenes, and makes most characters seem unengaging. I found the majority of them very unconvincing, particularly the adoptive mother Sarah Brink who played a major part. Small point: the adopted toddler appeared to grow up too fast in a period of a few months, and often seemed too advanced for the two year old she was meant to be.

Although I appreciate why many people admire Moore's unusual and striking use of language, I shall think carefully before embarking on another of her novels.

⭐⭐⭐ 3 Stars

A Gate at the Stairs