[Book review] Unless: So strange and yet so normal

Tags

Unless / Carol Shields (2002)

I have been a poor reader lately, finding it hard to finish anything, yet Carol Shields’ final novel, Unless, hooked me.  It is the story of a woman in her forties, the writer of ‘light’ fiction and translations, Reta, whose daughter, Norah, suddenly leaves home and sits on the same street each day begging for money. The situation is breaking Reta’s heart even as life insists on going on and she attempts to write the sequel to her first novel.

It is deceptively ‘domestic’, almost ‘light fiction’, with the trappings of a middle-aged woman with a circle of good friends trying to hold her family together, and a (sort of) conventional ending. Yet as a reader I sensed more and more that Shields was playing sophisticated games  with me.

It is  a passionately yet somehow gently feminist novel (perhaps I say gently because of its subtlety). The chapters are interspersed with letters to various public figures or critics or writer who have ignored or silenced women in their articles or books. The whole novel seems to be a protest about the dismissal of  domestic/ family concerns as ‘light’ women’s fiction. Tellingly, an editor is trying to rewrite Reta’s new novel, to turn it into a man’s quest for greatness, rather than a woman’s quest for goodness. Perhaps Shields’ response is to silence Reta’s husband, Tom, who is never more than a background character. I might be tempted to call his lack of involvement a weakness, if I wasn’t so suspicious it was  a ploy of Shields’ that I was falling into.

It is an uneasy novel. Every criticism I am tempted to make of it could be read as a deliberate protest against my assumptions. I felt that it moved too slowly, with too little happening and too long spent thinking about the situation; yet maybe I’m trying to ‘edit’ Shields’ novel just like the nasty editor is trying to edit Reta’s.

I was hooked by its pearls of insight into life and its elegant enigmas. I was sad all the way through, knowing that Shields died of breast cancer soon after it was published.

8/10

[Film review] Strange Memories of Alice: Alice in Wonderland

Alice is now 19 and can’t quite remember Wonderland – was it just a recurring dream, or something more? Tim Burton’s new film doesn’t take the idea anywhere, but it has an uncanny resonance with my own viewing of the film. I can’t remember if I ever read Lewis Carroll’s books as a child properly or not. I suspect not; I think I may have seen the cartoon, and bits of the cartoon and read the Golden Books or Disney book of it. Yet, of course, so much is nearly familiar, as Burton gives us a sequel or a mash-up or something.

I think the film’s major failing is its uninspired and confused plot. Once we get to Wonderland, we get stuck in a cliche: the bad queen versus the good queen, with forces on each side, and no exploration of why.  There just has to be a good side and a bad side in any fantasy narrative. Don’t kids (and the adults taking them) deserve something a little more sophisticated? The pangs of betrayal? The nuances of the failings of any political system?

We get a couple of mentions of the Jabberwocky through the film, but no set up for the climax in which, of course, Alice must fight the creature. It makes it seem rather pointless, a video game with the big monster at the end.

The film’s strengths are its relentless zany visual interest and an enchanting performance by Mia Wasikowska as Alice.

I had the pleasure of seeing it at the Cygnet in Como, the first time I’ve ever been to this elegant one-screen cinema.

5/10

[Film review] Men Who Stare At Goats

Ewan McGregor convincingly plays an awkward reporter in Iraq who stumbles into George Clooney, who used to be a part of the New Earth Army, an attempt to turn New Age/hippie practices into psychic warfare during the Cold War. The New Earth Army was founded by Jeff Bridges’ character, another great performance reminiscent – from a different angle of his character in The Big Lebowski. It’s a rather physical comedy, along with a number of funny lines, as we learn in flashback of the rise and fall of the New Age Army.

The scriptwriter doesn’t know how to finish it, and the climax isn’t anticipated well enough, but instead comes rather randomly, as so much of the film does. (It’s a universe of coincidence, but not quite enough is made of all the coincidence to convince.)

Showing at the Luna.

6.5/10

[film review] Crazy Heart: the Dude Returns to the Bowling Alley

For me, it was worth seeing Jeff Bridges’ new film Crazy Heart just to watch him return to the bowling alley, the setting of much of his performance as the Dude in The Big Lebowski. His character in this new film, Bad Blake, is even more washed up than the Dude, an alcoholic fading country star who doesn’t look after himself, reduced to playing at bowling alleys and no longer given a bar tab.

It’s a film that starts out with a few laughs, but these soon dry up, as it settles in as a conventional redemptive drama. A young reporter/ single mother played by Maggie Gyllenhaal offers Bad Blake new hope, but she is wary of his drinking. Can Bad Blake get himself together, come up with some new songs and keep the woman he loves?

I like the setting, the open desert roads, small bars and bowling alleys of the southern states. I like Jeff Bridges, a lot, also. And Gyllenhaal plays her part just right. It’s too familiar as a film and the narrative is a little clunky (the trajectory doesn’t seem right, it seems to slow right down in the middle and get lost) but overall it’s… almost good.

6/10

Review – Damned Good : A Poker Novel by J.J. Deceglie

Fontaine Press, 2010. 128p. www.damnedgood.com.au

Damned Good is  a season in the life of the Rookie, an emerging poker player who takes the Perth poker scene by storm before heading to Melbourne to take on Australia’s best, Rawlins. It’s a short novel full of booze, cards and philosophising, with few first names but instead characters called the Rookie, the Kid, Rawlins, Indersmith.

It’s subtitled ‘a poker novel’, but it could as easily be subtitled ‘an existential novel’. For the Rookie, poker is a mode of existence, a lens to see the world through:

For him it was where he had to be.

Severe naked existence.

This was living in the world.

There was not a thing else like it.

Moments he guessed were like the cards falling from the deck, destined randomness and predetermined chance, opportunities bobbing up and it there for you to take or blow. (p.7)

It’s in high-stakes poker that the Rookie has found what it means to live authentically, dangerously. The novel may leave many readers wishing they were as cool as the Rookie. He’s a man who thinks existential thoughts, writes manifestos he burns, and can drink bourbon continuously without it affecting his poker.

The two writers this novel reminds me of most are William Gibson and Cormac McCarthy. The Rookie is a hero in the tradition of those streetwise heroes of Gibson’s cyberpunk novels, brilliant at what they do. The prose has similar crisp, unexpected metaphors. Yet it’s also close to the prose and characters of McCarthy’s Border Trilogy, the brave cowboys who don’t say too much, but think deep thoughts and experience a kind of brutal beauty in their world. And the prose has a similar clipped, sparse beauty. Minimal dialogue, no speech marks.

After the climax of the showdown with Rawlins, the narrative is interrupted by an eight page booklet called “Authentic Poker”, presumably the Rookie’s manuscript, a cross between a poker manual and Nietzche.

Try to remember as often as possible that you will one day die. It is the surest method of allowing yourself to seek authenticity and essence with a full and unswerving heart.

Part Two skips forward a while in the Rookie’s life, after an ‘off-screen’ fall. The novel closes with a fascinatingly surreal poker game.

Damned Good is a worthy follow up to Deceglie’s  debut novel, The Sea Is Not Yet Full. I love the evocation of a kind of underground Perth and Fremantle.  It’s a compact and interesting story with a character and a milieu which are refreshing for Australian literature.

Film Review: Up In The Air

This film has been very well-reviewed, scoring 91% favourable ratings on Rotten Tomatoes, and an average score of 8.1/10. I have to present a minority report. I was a little bored.

George Clooney plays a consultant who jets around the country firing people. His lifestyle is threatened by a fresh uni graduate’s scheme for firing by teleconference.

It dragged for me; the dialogue was good without being brilliant and the narrative didn’t hang together well. Predictably, he learns some hard lessons about commitment, but thankfully in a somewhat unpredictable manner.

Everyone else loved it, so you probably will too.

5.5/10

Being invincible and truth-loving and twenty years old

Tags

,

Kiki recalled being invincible and truth-loving and twenty years old; remembered feeling exactly this: that if her family could only speak the truth, together they would emerge, weeping but clear-eyed into the light.
-Zadie Smith, On Beauty, p.60

In this sentence from Zadie Smith’s 2005 novel, Kiki, the mother of the family, is responding to the latest truth-telling assualt of her son, Jerome. I think it is a brilliant and wise insight into families and generations.

Does it ring true for you? At twenty, did you have the answers to your family’s problems? Did it all seem so clear? If only they could be more honest, fearless, authentic like you, then all their problems would disappear?

I think it was true of me. I think when I was twenty I believed more strongly in people’s ability to change and the absolute value of unflinching honesty. If only we could all tell exactly how we feel, instead of holding back.

Nine years later, I recognise the value of social niceties, of politeness, of treading carefully. My twenty-year old self looks through the decade in disgust. I don’t really care. He wasn’t all wrong, just too absolute.

Lionel Shriver on holidays

Tags

,

i just returned from a great holiday, but even it wasn’t completely free of my ambivalence about holidays. I hate packing, I hate unpacking, I find it stressful choosing somewhere to stay, and I often wonder what I should be doing. (I don’t like having to answer what I did on a holiday, because I generally like to do not much at all. Not this frantic activity some require, see at least three sights a day.)

I liked discovering a kindred soul (besides my wife) in Lionel Shriver, who has outright hatred of the idea of a holiday. She writes excellently as always in her anti-holiday rant.

She has a new novel due out next month, which has already attracted some unfriendly reviews on goodreads.com. I wonder if it was people who had seen an advance copy, liars or confused readers. They didn’t sound like proper reviewers who I would bother sending an advance copy to.

Film Review: The Road

Tags

I think it was in Brian Aldiss’s history of science-fiction, Trillion Year Spree that I read about the semi-cosy postapocalypse, typified by John Wyndham. It’s the end of civilisation as we know it, but life goes on in new, innovative ways and it’s very interesting to be able to roam the abandoned world.

If you’re familiar with Cormac McCarthy’s The Road – or with any of his work – you’ll know that his postapocalypse doesn’t belong in this category at all.

His is a post-disaster world where nothing at all grows and where there is almost no comfort or hope. Indeed, the genre and the setting are merely an externalisation of the brutal apocalyptic landscapes and consciousnesses McCarthy has been writing about all his career. Blood Meridian may be set in the nineteenth century, but it’s apocalyptic in its sensibility.

I love his Border Trilogy and Blood Meridian, but I thought The Road a lesser work. Maybe that’s because the whole world finally discovered him and I was disdainful of their late interest in McCarthy-lite.

The film is a worthy adaptation of the novel. It depicts a father and his son struggling through the wasteland of America, trying to escape cannibals and rather vainly hoping to get to the sea. It is visually impressive, and even more so because I read that director Hillcoat used real abandoned buildings and landscapes across America. For two hours, you get to inhabit the world, after everyone else is dead, and you begin to wonder if it’s worth staying alive. The father believes so; his wife did not.

This isn’t a far-flung science-fiction world. It’s merely, as I said above, an intensification and externalisation of the brutal existential world McCarthy inhabits. At my most despairing moments I feel he’s right about the world. But even he has his moments of lightness and hope. In the film, it’s amazing how good it feels to witness a couple of minor acts of kindness and the discovery of a treasure trove of canned food.

It’s a well made film with no obvious flaws. That said, like the book, I didn’t love it.

7/10