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Book summaries - 2016
INTO THE FOREST - Jean Hegland BROTHER OF SLEEP - Robert Schneider THE DANISH GIRL - David Ebershoff THE NOISE OF TIME - Julian Barnes SUBMISSION - Michel Houellebecq THE 100-YEAR-OLD-MAN WHO CLIMBED OUT OF THE WINDOW AND DISAPPEARED - Jonas Jonasson
INTO THE FOREST - Jean Hegland from Tatiana 11/11/2016 On Tuesday we met at my house and as it drizzled and blew outside, enjoyed each other and our discussion about Into the Forest. I had chosen this book because it was critiqued as a feminist novel and I was curious as to what made a novel “feminist”; thus our discussion centered not only around the book itself but why and how it could be perceived thus. We all enjoyed the book, both in terms of the realistic nature of its depiction of a complete breakdown of the world as we know it and in terms of the relationship between the two sisters and the family unit that enabled them to cope with the events depicted in the book even after they were left alone to face them. We agreed that while the writing was simple the author succeeded in rendering in an eloquent fashion not only the emotional and psychological state of the protagonists but also the natural world that surrounded them, making nature a protagonist in her own right. We were able to talk about the book from different aspects: the feasibility of this kind of “end-of-the-world” scenario, our ability (or lack thereof) to handle such a thing, whether there were elements of the book that were purely symbolic, what made it a feminist novel and the nature of feminism itself. Into the Forest turned out to be perfect for a discussion and a story that we all enjoyed reading, touching on all the different angles that come together to make us who we are under ordinary circumstances and bringing out our innate abilities to cope (or not) with the extraordinary. (T) from Margaret 12/11/2016 Tatiana's choice – this apocalyse book about two sisters surviving in a remote house in the woods while the civilized world seems to be melting away – gave us plenty of room for discussion. Obviously the theme brought to mind Cormac McCarthy's horrific “The Road” describing the world after a nuclear disaster, which we also read some time ago. Although the Hegland book was not so grim - the world hadn't been destroyed and Nature was still intact, with all the resources that the girls learned to exploit – it struck uneasy chords in all of us and reminded us of how far our society has moved from a basic knowledge of the world around us. The relationship between the two sisters, who grew closer and closer together as they depended more and more on each other was very moving. Some of us thought that the heroine should have gone off with her boyfriend when she had the chance in search of a more nomal life, but apart from the scruples she felt about abandoning her sister, she was perhaps being realistic. She suspected there was no world beyond their forest. The relationship with their father was also very touchingly drawn. Obviously they couldn't have survived as long as they did without the knowledge he imparted to them. The writing had a lyrical quality that gave it a lot of charm and although the end was without hope (how long could they continue to survive in the wilds without proper shelter and with a small child to take care of?), the book was not depressing. It did not put me off my sleep, as “The Road” had done! A lively debate and delicious homemade bread and soup. Our club becomes more and more a Gastro-Literary event! Who could ask for more! (M) from Margie ... sorry I wont be with you today.... I enjoyed the book...more at the beginning than as it developed...I thought a few things were just there to make a story...which actually I guess is the point. Naturally a good idea doesn't always turn out to be enough for a book...you have to give it context and I think it fell down a bit on this...but overall a good read. (MF)
BROTHER OF SLEEP - Robert Schneider from Tatiana 17/10/2016 What can I say? It seems to me that Brother of Sleep and I got off on the wrong foot. From the very beginning it seemed to me like Robert Schneider was trying to imitate Patrick Suskind, concentrating on an avalanche of sounds rather than scents. Already that annoyed me. Suskind’s book is one of a kind and trying to pull the same stunt was doomed to fail in my eyes because it’s already been done. So have many other themes in novels, you might object, but the books I like the most either have a unique premise or at least extremely believable characters. This had neither. I know it wasn’t meant to be realistic; I doubt even the most backward peasant would subject a child to cures that almost kill it, but even so, it never managed to entice me into that moment when you give up any pretence of fact and simply float along on an imaginative current because it is so alluring. Perhaps it is one of the books you need to be in a particular state of mind to read, and one day, for God know what reason, I will pick it up again and like it but for now I must say it was an effort and a chore. I am very curious to read what you all thought. (T) from Margaret 2/11/2016 Eva gave us a delicious lunch based on potatoes in order to be in tune with her book about peasant life in a remote village somewhere on the German-Swiss border (think of Van Gogh and the starving potato eaters). Anyway, life in a primitive village two hundred or so years ago was of course no joke, but I cannot believe it was so relentlessly cruel. I found it hard to read and in fact I nearly gave up after the man was burned alive – and that was quite near the beginning. Although Schneider's descriptions and interpretation were almost along fairytale lines and he did not enlarge on screams and gore, it was all a bit too much for me. The central theme of undiscovered and unappreciated genius was interesting and the self-destructive nature of the main character rang – alas! - only too true, but did it have to be quite so depressing?? (M)
THE DANISH GIRL - David Ebershoff from Margaret 13/09/2016 Our annual Book Club outing to Molise has become a tradition that we all look forward to, thanks to Laura's warm hospitality and the many attractions of this little known region. This year we trekked through the beautiful unspoiled forests of the Parco di Collemeluccio and visited the charming medieval village of Fornelli, undeterred by the somewhat inclement weather conditions. Who cares about wet feet?? We enjoyed a cosy evening at Laura's home seeing the film version of The Danish Girl. This was quite illuminating because our reactions to the book had been generally negative, while (unusually) we thought the film was infinitely better. The subject, besides being brilliantly portrayed by the two main actors, was handled with great delicacy and sensitivity, whereas the book seemed cold. Despite the undoubted interest and novelty of the subject matter – a sex change in the first half of last century – Ebershoff just didn't seem to arouse any sympathy for his characters. Greta came over as unbelievably matter.of-fact regarding this revolution in her marriage and Lili seemed petty and capricious. There was little indication of the heart-rending all this must have caused and next to no information on the (pretty barbaric) medical treatment that Einar underwent. Jill had downloaded photos of the two protagonists from the internet which helped to form an idea of the transformation, but without modern hormone treatment, it was hard to believe that the original bearded and sideburned professor was changed into “lovely little Lili” , attracting the attentions of men and trotting in and out on her shopping expeditions. My personal impression was of a book written primarily as a market commodity, using subject matter calculated to tintillate, with little time wasted on real research or boring clinical details. If this was Ebershoff's aim, he succeeded, but he didn't write anything remotely resembling a literary work. (M) from Tatiana 15/09/2016 Our wonderful group spent the week-end of 10-11 September relishing Laura’s delicious meals, walking in the woods, sightseeing, enjoying each other’s company and, of course, discussing The Danish Girl. It was clear that the fates were smiling upon the Castelli Book Club this week-end for it only rained (and hard!) during those times we were not scheduled to go out, giving us the opportunity to do all the wonderful things Laura had planned. On Saturday, after a marvelous outing along forest paths, we gathered around the table sipping Laura’s tea (a delicious concoction) as it rained outside, and found that we all had come to the same conclusion about Ebershoff’s book: it was a very interesting subject but its rendition was so bloodless and devoid of the real human emotion that doubtless would be experienced by the protagonists that none of us really liked it. In fact, the discussion centered mostly around how much has changed since then, both in terms of the level of societal acceptance for the transgender experience and in the seemingly large numbers of people identifying as such. Luckily, seeing the movie afterwards made all the difference for in it the actors beautifully conveyed the intense human drama the book completely lacked. So as has happened in the past, reading the book and then seeing the movie based on it made for a wholly satisfying discussion. After a night punctuated by church bells, cuckoo clocks and a needy cat we dawdled over breakfast, then toured one of the most beautiful Medieval towns in Italy, ending with lunch before embarking on the drive home. Thanks, as always, to Laura’s efforts a truly wonderful time was had by all and we are unanimously grateful that she pulls this off for us every year. Three cheers for Laura!!! (T)
from Margaret 20/06/2016 This month's book was a bit of a departure from the norm. Rather than another modern novel, Margaret choose an old classic – a lesser known work by the famous author of “Jane Eyre”. This is Bronte's least known and least appreciated work, but we thought it contained many elements that could be related to our day and age and, in fact, our discussion was particularly long and lively. Despite the fact that we made allowances for the fact that this was a book written in a century where there were few distractions beyond reading and readers had leisure to wade through long-winded dialogues and wordy descriptions, it still seemed to many of us unnecessarily long. The plot too seems to wander frequently off course, with characters such as the three curates (the humorous element of the story) disappearing inexplicably off the page. The book really warms up with the arrival of the heroine Shirley. Previously we are treated to the tedious tale of the unrequited love of the pining Caroline. Shirley, however, is a woman of means, full of spirit, smart and altogether more appealing to modern tastes – even if, rather disappointingly, she ends up marrying a rather uninspiring minor character of the story. The sudden revelation of Caroline's lost mother as Shirley's long-time companion rings unconvincing to a modern reader, but this kind of development seems to have been typical of novels of the time. Dickens too is full of long lost relatives unexpectedly turning up and transforming the life of the central character. It seems to have been an essential ingredient for British 19th century novels – like the happy ending. I was particularly interested in the incident of the Luddites – weavers rebelling to try to save their livelihood from factory takeovers by machines as I saw parallels with our modern age. Luckily, our society has progressed a little and those who lose their jobs have safeguards that the poor starving working men of the past didn't enjoy – they could only rely on charity – mostly provided by the good ladies of the parish. The part about the Luddites, however, was disappointingly small and it was not very clear in which direction Bronte's sympathies lay. She was very discreet although maybe for the times she was quite daring to ever include it at all. Even more interesting was the feminist aspect where Bronte took a much more decisive stand. She was quite bitter in her condemnation of the inactivity forced upon intelligent and capable women. She described the fate of middle class unmarried women as a virtual prison with long, boring days to be got through. The only possibility of respectable employment was to become a governess, where educated women, from good families but without money, were often treated with little consideration by their employers. No doubt Charlotte was drawing on her own experiences here, as she did up to a point in “Jane Eyre”. It is a sobering thought that only half a century ago women were still expected to give up their jobs when they married and girls were not accepted by many universities to study “masculine” subjects like geology, physics and forensics. (M) from Tatiana 27/06/2016 On June 15 we met at Margaret’s to enjoy a lovely lunch and discuss Shirley, by Charlotte Bronte. It was a return to the classics and while we mostly appreciated the writing (especially the scenic descriptions) it was really a bit too far back to generate a great deal of enthusiasm. It was too long, the conversations between the characters too far removed from anything we would be interested in reading about today and the digressions into the thoughts and opinions of even the most marginal characters too frequent, taxing even the most dedicated reader’s patience. In large part, the discussion focused on the parallels we saw between the place of women in Bronte’s time and today. While none of us deny the enormous strides made since then, it was interesting to note the convergence we all had on there still being barriers to women fully enjoying life without prejudice or danger. While women no longer need to find a husband to live fully and comfortably, we still must factor in societal pressures and faults when deciding on a career and/or motherhood, financial ease and even where (and when) to walk alone. Comparing the progress achieved and the goals still to be attained coincided perfectly with the consideration of the two main protagonists’ desires and options, making the book an interesting jump off point to a discussion of women’s place in the world then and now. (T)
from Margaret 27/05/2016 Our May meeting was in Margie's home. Unfortunately, none of our Acilia members were able to be with us, but, in compensation, we were joined by founder-member Rosemary, visiting from Germany. The “Hilltop” aroused a lot of interest, especially regarding the settlers' way of life as described in the book, which sounded very primitive – not at all what we would have expected to find in the modern State of Israel. Another surprise was the complicated bureaucratic system – at least as bad, if not worse, than in Italy! The book was intriguing because it opened a window onto a world which we knew very little about. The daily life and habits of these ultra-Orthodox Jews in the settlement were revealed throughout the story of the two brothers Roni and Gabi and the settlement head man Othniel. We had all had some difficulty dealing with the names of the many people who featured in the book. The list of characters at the beginning had to be referred to frequently to avoid getting lost. One criticism was that the book was really too long. It was padded out with incidents that often detracted from the main plot and caused confusion. Personally, I feel that the book would have been improved by being a third shorter. The Palestinian question was touched on with delicacy. Only one character, a strident and rather unlikeable woman, was virulently hostile to the Palestinians, but she was just as offensively outspoken against the Jewish army which came to demolish the settlement. On the whole, the author avoided the issue. It is difficult to judge style in a translation, but the language was pretty straightforward. I would not have classed it as hilariously funny, but there was a vein of gentle humour throughout and some incidents – such as the weird fancy dress party the settlers got up in the last chapter (do fervently religious people really do such ridiculous things - maybe to take the pressure off??) that verged on real comedy. All in all, an interesting read......especially satisfying when we solved the mystery of who destroyed the olive trees (slipped in casually – in fact, most of us missed it – towards the end of the story). (M) from Tatiana 30/05/2016 What I wish I could have discussed with you. Yet again, missed our meeting – truly due to circumstances beyond my control – but I did want to add a few thoughts on The Hilltop. While it is true that it was a window into a world I know very little about, I still felt that it failed to give me a sense of the place – what it looked like, what the countryside looked like. The descriptions were cursory and while more attention was given to the characters and their lives it felt to me like it could be happening almost any place where animosities run deep and authority matters little. The humor, tied mostly to the outrageous inefficiencies, did not elicit even a chuckle in me – mostly because the result of all this is dire and has been for years. Definitely too long and the writing is nothing to brag about. All in all, a disappointing read. Added note from my mother, appointed honorary Castelli Book Club member by me ;) Along with the above, she also felt the dialogue was completely unrepresentative. Living in L.A and working until recently with the Country immigration programs, the Israelis she knows and worked with speak nothing like this, and she found it extremely jarring. (I don’t know any Israelis so this didn’t affect me one way or the other). (T)
THE NOISE OF TIME - Julian Barnes from Tatiana 10/04/2016 The Noise of Time affected me deeply, most likely because those places and events are part of my family history. The writing itself seemed so simple, unadorned and matter-of-fact but there were lines that hit me hard, either because I have thought so myself or because I can too easily imagine what it was like to live during Soviet terror and what happened to those that didn’t die. My family was part of the Russian Orthodox Church – the original line that considered the Patriarch to be the man still in Russia, trying to keep the church and priests alive. There was a splinter church, the American Russian Orthodox Church, that broke off because its congregants and priests considered their brethren and the Patriarch in Russia stooges (that word Julian Barnes reminded me of) because they kowtowed and co-existed with the regime. How easy, my father used to say, to denounce communism from the safety of the United States. How cowardly to think those Russians would be worth something if they’d just be martyrs – speak up for what’s right and die for it . This was so clear in the book, that Shostakovich would have been seen in a good light if only he’d not parroted what he was supposed to say. If only he’d die for the cause. People did speak out and die for it but to judge someone who could not sickens me. Would any of us risk our children, our parents, ourselves, and denounce a totalitarian regime that could snuff us all out any time? The idea of him being alive but the Soviets having succeeded in killing his soul made me deeply sad because I know people exactly like that. Also the idea of the world having changed so much that monsters and despots no longer have a conscience, are never eaten away by guilt for what they have done. I have often thought this, how no matter how heinous their acts (Karadzic, Pol Pot, Papa Doc – not to mention the obvious culprits like Hitler and Stalin) they never admit they did anything wrong, never showed any sign of feeling guilty. There’s always a good reason for whatever they did, and whatever they did is never as bad as people say. In any case, I am very glad to have read this book because it brought home how tremendously lucky we are to have never lived in such desperate times, to have never had to choose between staying alive and doing what’s right. (T) from Margaret 17/04/2016 Unexpected events led us to change plans for this meeting, and Jill generously offered to host us though it wasn't her turn. Our group was almost complete and we had the addition of our newest member, Grazia, who debutted with an impressive analysis that showed she was thoroughly into her subject. Much of our discussion centred round the character of Shostakovich. Was he a coward because he knuckled under the demands of the Communist regime? Several of us condemned his conduct. Others claimed that courage and cowardice cannot be measured indiscriminately, but depend on circumstances – and Barnes made it clear than the composer's circumstances were so difficult that it would have been virtually impossible for him to have acted otherwise. One thing we did not really discuss enough was the style of writing. Barnes, of course, is a master of language, producing text that is poetic and almost hypnotic. Some of us complained that they became confused with his narrative technique that involved a constant dipping into past episodes and flashbacks of the composers' life. I particularly admired his ability to slip historical facts into his narrative without embarking on pedantic explanations. Every page revealed the profound research he obviously undertook to portray his subject and the times he lived in, but all this was condensed into little nuggets of information thrown in in a deceptively casual way. Our Shostakovich immersion was enhanced with recordings of some of his most celebrated pieces, selected and prepared by Jill. A really nice touch! (M)
SUBMISSION - Michel Houellebecq from Tatiana 25/02/2016 That we are an unruly, undisciplined bunch I think we’d all pretty much agree but when we get together to discuss a book that resonates strongly on some level for each of us, we become ungovernable! Such was the case when we met at Francoise’s house to discuss Submission, by Michel Houellebecq. Keeping to the one-person-at-a time-shares-her-views format became a daunting exercise as we all wanted to support, rebuke, add or subtract to each other’s opinions and what we really needed was a gravel to pound on the table for order. This, of course, is a very good thing because it is what literature aims to do – to make us think and feel and wonder – and the fact that we are a pretty passionate group only makes it more interesting and enjoyable. The scenario evoked by Houellebecq can be seen as very likely or entirely implausible, depending on your mindset and the way you perceive the world around you, but the idea that the Muslim Brotherhood takes over France and “muslimizes” the country galvanized us all and led to a very exciting discussion. It was an energizing meeting and I only hope there will be more books in the future that succeed equally well in bringing out our rambunctious selves. (T) from Margaret 01/03/2016 What can I say about this? I found this book very disturbing, though some of our group did not take it so seriously. They interpreted it as a satire condemning our lost generation in Western society. I was disturbed by the subtitle: “the book that shakes up our notions of the West” (I’m translating from Italian, so there may be some variations here – I read the book in Italian as it was a translation anyway and was more readily available that way). The writer, of course, is a master of his craft and manages to keep up the reader’s interest even when wading through pages of intellectual name dropping and philosophical musings on the works of the eminent French thinker Huysmans (virtually unknown in the Anglo-Saxon world – a gap to be remedied?). His more or less casual portrayal of a democratic take-over by an Islamic government in France sounded quite convincing to me. It could happen if the Islamic population in Europe continues to snowball as it is doing at present. As a woman I was particularly concerned about the writer’s apparent total lack of interest in the prospects for Western women in this supposed new society. The main character, a sad and lackluster university professor, seemingly only regarded women as sex objects – even the young Jewish student he claimed to be in love with. He never mentions her character or talents, apart from her ability in bed. It is easy to see why Islamic culture could be very attractive to men – even our civilized emancipated Western men. In a secret little corner of their secret little hearts wouldn’t they really just like their women to be at their service, making their lives comfortable and no longer presenting a challenge on the workplace??? I hope the next book is less harrowing!!! (M)
THE 100-YEAR-OLD-MAN WHO CLIMBED OUT OF THE WINDOW AND DISAPPEARED - Jonas Jonasson from Margaret 01/02/2016 Our first meeting of the new year: Lena's choice of this book with the improbable title stimulated one of our liveliest debates. Our members were evenly divided among those who had found the book amusing and those who had thought it a total waste of time. I belonged to the first category. I thought the book was pure farce – slapstick in the spirit of early Chaplin or Oliver and Hardy and although I don't normally care for this type of entertainment I appreciated the book because it had no pretensions. No hidden meanings or cryptic lessons to impart. Jonasson wrote it as straight comedy steering deeply into surrealism. One observation was our suspicion that it lost in translation, like other books we have read by Scandinavian and German authors. I don't mean that the translator (Rod Bradbury, any relation to Ray?) did a bad job. Simply that humour is hard to translate in any language and appreciation depends very much on the cultural background of the reader.If we are dealing with double meanings and play on words, these are practically impossible to convey in a different language from our own. So perhaps we missed out a bit on screamingly funny witticisms.... I was also struck by this Scandinavian obsession with alcohol, which featured strongly in Arto Passilinna's “The Year of the Hare”. It really seems that these men of the north live only for drink! How do they get on with their lives?? (M) from Tatiana 06/02/2016 We met at Lena’s house – almost complete membership and wonderful to see each other after this long break – to discuss The one-hundred-year-old man who climbed out the window and disappeared, by Jonas Jonasson, a book she chose more out of happenstance than any real objective. It was quite an interesting meeting because our views ran the gamut: there were those who adored the book, those who thought it was amusing and worth the read, those who were neither enthusiastic nor negative and those who hated it. The story line, more than the writing style – which we all agreed was nothing to brag about – is what set up the differences. It was perceived as either a funny concept with ludicrous situations that called to mind slapstick comedy or a completely implausible basis on which equally implausible scenarios were built. The digressions into real, historic events were seen as either interesting asides or irrelevant attempts to pad the story and the various characters were deemed colorful or unlikely, depending on your point of view. Perhaps no other book was such a stark reminder that literary tastes are, above all, personal and one woman’s funny story is another’s senseless slog. There was a question as to how much may have been lost in translation and interesting spinoffs in our discussion concerned the cultural grounding necessary to appreciate certain books and movies and how much of any given story is lost in its re-telling in a foreign language. Being from different parts of the world and fluent , to a greater or lesser degree, in more than one language made us the perfect group to consider the power of language and culture on our perceptions. (T) |
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