November 2020 Books

Great

This Mournable Body by Tsitsi Dangarembga

I've had people ask me a few times recently whether I think they should read the two preceding books in Tsitsi Dangarembga's trilogy, and after finishing this final novel my answer is a resounding yes. I had quite a strong emotional reaction to this book, but I have seen a few reviews recently from people who read it as a standalone that felt rather meh about it all. Whilst it can literally be read as a standalone (whatever needs explaining is explained), I think my appreciation of this novel is definitely down to my having followed Tambu's journey from childhood, but also the development of Dangarembga's writing over the three, and the weight of all that she explores over the course of the trilogy. Had I been judging the Booker prize, this would have been my winner.

As we know I read The Book of Not back in September, and although I didn't particularly enjoy the process of reading it, I did appreciate its themes and execution. This novel is quite different in style. The writing is much less descriptive and is more punchy and to the point in its sentence structure. It also employs second-person (I know some people absolutely hate this but I think it can work if done well) and in general it felt like Dangarembga had definitely found a mature voice for this work to suit the more mature Tambu. She may be older, though, but she has sadly not found a place for herself in the new Zimbabwe. She is permanently contaminated by her colonial education and internalised racism, making her a rather snobbish and unlikeable character throughout. I can see where standalone readers might have had trouble, and where Tambu's backstory comes in handy, particularly her experiences in The Book of Not. Like the other novels, this one touches on long-lasting effects (psychic and otherwise) of colonialism and the legacy of independence, and the ways in which these interact with womanhood and femininity. But unlike the other novels, this one has an additional focus on neocolonial capitalism and a healthy scepticism of ecotourism. I think Dangarembga did a wonderful job of weaving these themes throughout the novel whilst also writing in a style that was engaging and providing plenty of narrative drive. Like I said, I had quite a visceral emotional reaction to this book, as I really felt for Tambu in all her bitterness and acidity; following her over the course of the three novels shows how much she has been damaged by the systems she found herself in, and comparison with the earlier, more hopeful Tambu is heart-breaking. I thought it was subtly executed here, but covered so many complex topics in a way that is accessible and moving. I would highly recommend the trilogy as a whole and I wonder what Dangarembga might write next.

The Mirror and the Light by Hilary Mantel

Again, I feel quite emotionally attached to this book, though that should come as no surprise to anyone that has followed my reading this year. It is no secret that Mantel's Cromwell trilogy has been one of my favourite reading experiences this year, and this book is no exception. I will link my other reviews here and here.

Each book does read slightly differently, though all are in Mantel's signature writing style, which I talk about a little in my Wolf Hall review. That first book is probably the most slippery; after all, I'm sure there was less for Mantel to work with in terms of source material for the earlier period of Cromwell's life. It is most experimental in its wisps and scraps of scene, and for its playfulness with form. Bring Up the Bodies is more overtly driven by the downfall of Anne Boleyn, and is more tightly wrought and tense as a result. This final novel is longer, slower, a bit more meandering, but still more formally stable than Wolf Hall. For some I think it feels as if this novel lacks some of the verve or drive of the former two but it certainly worked for me. First, Mantel must tackle a lot more actual history here, and she brings together so many threads, characters and motivations seamlessly, painting quite a full picture of the complexity of this time. Second, Cromwell himself reaches the apex of his power in this book, and - as I'm sure for a lot of people - this makes him more reflective. I enjoyed these moments, and they added a new dimension to what Mantel has created in books past. And in the end, I cried.

I don't know how historically accurate these books are in terms of the character of Cromwell, nor does it really matter. A lot of it in fact seems to be pursuing the point that Cromwell's motivations are never truly known, and the reader sees flashes of a man they don't recognise (at least I did!). But they are one of the best examples of historical fiction that I have ever read, if only at creating the atmosphere of Tudor England, and Mantel does something so unique and exciting in these books that I would highly recommend them. Her style does take a bit of getting used to, but if you can find its rhythms it is a really rewarding experience.

The Word for World is Forest by Ursula K. Le Guin

This is a wonderful novella that touches on a lot of important themes in few words. It depicts a heavily forested world that is being plundered for its timber by Terrans (Earthlings in the Hainish universe), to the detriment of the indigenous population and the natural environment. It is about the damage that colonialism and dehumanisation can do, both psychologically and materially. Originally a peaceable race, the native Athsheans must learn man-to-man violence in order to save themselves and their planet. Although they are (spoiler alert) victorious, they are also irreparably changed by the interaction.

Some have found fault with this novella for being too black and white or polemic compared to Le Guin's other, more subtle works (even Le Guin herself said this!) However, I found - rather depressingly - that the characters were all too believable. The macho Don Davidson who was unable to recognise the humanity of the indigenous population, and always extolled on the superiority of the Terrans despite obvious logic to the contrary? To me, this didn't read as a caricature at all. Overall I found it to be an enjoyable though heart-wrenching piece and being a bit of a tree-lover myself the idea of a heavily forested world was certainly appealing.

My Name is Why by Lemn Sissay [audio]

I don't have much luck reading memoirs for whatever reason, but I thought since I was enjoying my nonfiction so much in audiobook form, that I might also appreciate memoir a little more as well. And Lemn Sissay's My Name is Why was a particularly good choice.

In it, Sissay reflects on his childhood spent in foster care and children's homes as a Black child in a predominantly white system during the 70s and 80s. It is a heart-breaking story that documents the failings of the system and the adults around him, but it is also a story of Sissay's triumph against all odds. His own memories are juxtaposed with his social worker's reports and other dry documents that made up his file with 'the Authority', along with short excerpts of his own poetry, which is quite lovely! I thought the audiobook was fantastic; it made all the difference have Sissay read his own words, but they also had two cast members in for the other documents, making it a very immersive listening experience. Overall, I thought it was wonderfully written and a story I won't forget anytime soon.

Good

A Peculiar Peril by Jeff VanderMeer

It's been a little while now since I finished this book and I'm still not quite sure what to make of it, which I think is not unintended by Jeff VanderMeer. I feel I've read quite a lot of wacky books in my time and am generally unperturbed by wackiness, but this one is certainly up there and gave me a run for my money.

Let's start with the basics: it's about a boy named Jonathan Lambshead who has recently inherited his grandfather's estate (his mother disappeared not too long ago, meaning he is, to all intents and purposes, a sixteen-year-old orphan). His purported summer holiday task is to catalogue the contents of this mansion - for which he enlists two of his school friends - and maybe generally clear up and take care of the house and its grounds. That's the premise, but it lasts for about ten pages before you are taken on a complete whirlwind of an adventure which it’s safe to say I didn't see coming. For the first hundred pages or so this book was very chaotic. I had no idea where it was going or what the storyline would be, or whether it would be a bunch of random events and chapters. Let me reassure baffled readers that there is a storyline here and that it does follow general fantasy adventure tropes at least to a small degree, and it all becomes a little clearer after that first hundred pages. Everything isn't just absolutely mad for no reason (not everything, but some things definitely are).

This book is marketed as a young adult novel (sometimes?) which I think is confusing. I can't think of many young adults I would give this book with no context of Jeff VanderMeer's other work or his general literary interests (ecology, biology, personhood, science, amalgamations of animals and humans, general weird stuff) because I think it would just read as pure chaos. To be sure there will be some out there that will love this, but I imagine them to be relatively few and far between. I think a knowledge of VanderMeer does help when approaching this book (especially if you also follow him on Twitter!) On the other hand, I can see why it has been marketed as such; VanderMeer is deliberately playing with young adult fantasy literature tropes (though nothing which wouldn't interest adult readers, too), and he has a distinctly different tone in this novel. The style is humorous, light and self-reflexive, and there's lots of peppy back-and-forth dialogue. That's also not to say young adults can't or shouldn't read VanderMeer's adult fiction, I was reading a lot by the time I was a teen. But you know what I mean!

I think I enjoyed it? It's a little overlong and felt repetitive at times or like it was going in circles. I'll certainly be interested to see where it goes in the next instalment (of which I gather there is supposed to be one more). There were some characters that I wanted to follow more than others (because there are a few storylines going on here which are all interconnected), but I was certainly intrigued by a lot of VanderMeer's ideas here. I will be reading the next one which I think is a good sign? I don't know what to think! I didn't know then and I don't know now.

Who They Was by Gabriel Krauze

I liked this book a lot more than I expected. It's a work of autofiction about a young man born of Polish immigrants in North London. He finds himself disaffected by the world and the general drudgery of his future as a worker and so slides into a life of crime, hoping to find excitement and something to live for on the streets. It is written in a colloquial style that I do think it might be tricky for non-Brits to pick up on. There is a lot of beauty in the writing, too.

At first I found this novel to be sort of gripping, but also a little too episodic and random. As it went on, however, I got into it more, thought there was more narrative drive and storyline, and generally felt closer to the protagonist. Having said that, whilst I found the reading process intense and immersive, it isn't a book that's stuck with me since I put it down, or one I've been thinking a lot about. So a good book, but not an amazing one!

Hood Feminism by Mikki Kendall [audio]

This is a great introductory book to why white mainstream feminism is so damaging and unhelpful, and how you can be more inclusive in your approach. It deftly tackles lots of issues that you wouldn't typically think of as being feminist issues (such as gun crime) and provides a really good overview of a wide range of material, though it is mostly US based. I definitely think it is worth reading if you feel you are unsure of how to make sure you are being intersectional in your approach to feminism and how to be open to having discussions that maybe challenge mainstream feminist theory. Having followed Mikki for many years on Twitter, there was not much that was new in this book, but that just proves how much she has taught me in that time.

Among Others by Jo Walton

This book will really appeal to some readers and leave others feeling cold and unmoved, and I have been wracking my brains trying to figure out what to say so that it gets to the readers that will love it and not to the readers that don't, while not entirely spoiling it in the process.

It is an unusual fantasy novel about a young woman called Mor who has just moved to England from Wales. She has met her English father for the first time and his unusual family, and she is packed off to a posh boarding school where she instantly feels alienated and unsure of herself. The move was precipitated by some unknown large event involving her mentally unstable mother (who is possibly a dark witch), the death of her twin sister and a lifechanging injury to one of her legs, meaning she has to walk with a cane all the time and experiences chronic pain. The thing about Mor is that she can see fairies and perform magic, but it's a very different kind of magic from that of fairy tales. Performing magic seems to entail chains of coincidence, meaning that the causality can always be explained away in more rational terms.

The novel is written in an epistolary format through diary entries, and much of it focuses on Mor's day to day life adjusting to her new environment and generally growing up in a confusing situation. It is set in 1979 through to 1980, and she is an avid science fiction reader, meaning that a lot of the book is occupied with her discussions of what she is reading and how she feels about it. I think Walton inserted a lot of her childhood self into this which was quite heart-warming to see, for in lots of ways this book is about the power of literature and books to help transport you and also to help you develop and expand as a person, as well as connect with others. A fair amount of the more obscure 70s/80s sci-fi references went over my head (though I did pick up on a little bit of Le Guin and Delany) but I don't think you need to get them all to understand what this book is doing. However I would say if you're a huge fan of these books and you read a lot of them, you'll probably enjoy the nostalgia of Among Others!

All in all this book has less fantastical action than you might expect from a quick scan of the blurb. The fantasy elements are woven carefully throughout, but of equal or perhaps greater weight is the focus on Mor's struggles to fit in and how she creates her own circle and finds connections with others after great tragedy. She is not always the most likeable character, but I was sufficiently intrigued by her narrative voice to want to keep reading. It's a subtle book, one which asks you to read between the lines of Mor's words, that asks you to suspend your disbelief a little and to generally appreciate the importance of literature. If that sounds like it's for you I would recommend it; if on the other hand you like your fantasy a little more action-packed and on the nose, or you like to connect strongly with a likeable main character, you may find this a bit dull.