You know when you get a completely different perspective of a historical event, and it changes your whole view of that period? Well that has just happened.

War Crimes for the Home is World War 2 from a woman’s perspective, and as well as being glamourous (in parts), it is also really witty. The main character is Gloria, and the story is told by her in her alzheimish old age, with flashbacks to her life during the war. She and her sister work in a munitions factory and after their 12 hour shift, they generally go out on the lash to get merry and meet GIs:

 You know what they say about GIs and knickers? One Yank and they’re off!

Gloria and Marje like sex, I don’t know why I was surprised by this. I had this view of the second world war, and probably all periods in history, which didn’t really involve visualising the actual people who were a part of it, which of course is ridiculous, because if there were no people, then there would be no history. I think the reason for this is that history in books and films is slightly sanitised, and concentrates solely on events and battles and conflicts, and sometime overlooks the society which is affected. Maybe I am reading the wrong books.

 Anyway, I loved the crudeness of the main character, and the fact that she was never ever afraid to admit that she had had sex, and still had it at the age of 76 with a man in her nursing home. I found that refreshing, because it is nice to know that old people still have sex.

Apart from the sex, Gloria is faced with issues from her past, like a daughter she had and blocked out of her life. It is difficult to work out whether she always forgot it, because the present day narrative is based around the fact that she has lost her memory.

It rushes in quick sections from the heady days of the dancing of 1943 to her stale and depressing last days in a nursing home, and I think that is a reason why it is so powerful. It really hits home, that old people have had a life too. Excuse me for being naive and maybe ageist, but I think we forget this fact.

I for one will be asking my gran about her own life, something I don’t think I have really done properly. Hopefully she won’t tell me about her sex life but you never know with grans.

Emma Donoghue's protagonist is Mary Saunders, whose experiences as a 14 year old prostitute in 18th Century London normalise the phenomenon, whereas we are shocked at stories of young children involved in the sex trade today. Mary is thrown out of by her mother after becoming pregnant at the age of 14 after having sex with a pedlar for a piece of red ribbon. This ribbon is something Mary will use all through her life to rouge her lips and cheeks as she opens her legs for a shilling a time. Nice work if you can get it!

For me, the star of this book is Doll, the lady of the night who takes Mary in after she is raped by a gang of soldiers after being thrown out of home. Doll is a cynical bitch of 22, and she drinks herself to death, but not before a fun time with Mary. Nights off involve sitting in a cafe drinking gin and smoking, and a real, raw friendship develops as they experince the horrors of prostitution in the stinking streets of 18th century London.

Whereas Doll has a sweetheart of sorts, Mary is hollow of heart:

Mary was yet to figure out why any woman would do it for free. There were some who did it to get children, she knew, and others for pleasure or what they called love…Mary found such longings unimaginable. page 69

This emptyness of spirit paves the way for later occurences, but contradicts the tenderness Mary feels for the woman who takes her in when she is chased out of London by a pimp. While lying to her mother's friend in Monmouth, and seducing her husband, she seems to revere her, and after a while, contemplates giving up the brights lights and shitty streets of London forever. Here lies the problem. Mary's character is never consistent, and she is difficult even sympathise with, and I sympathise with a lot of characters.

As a piece of social and women's history, it is wonderful, drawing attention as it does to a sector of historical society traditionally judged as immoral, and unimportant. As a story, it somehow fails to deliver satisfaction.

Maybe I am just annoyed about the ending.

This South African writer's tenth novel could be put (admittedly, by me) in the same novelistic compartment as Albert Camus' The Outsider, and most of the work of French writer Michel Houellebecq , with it's bleak outlook, friendless artist of a protagonist, and unfulfilling modern society.

John is described in the third person, just one of the techniques utilised to emphasise his loneliness. Moving from politically volatile 1950s South Africa to London, he is a white 'colonial' with a chip on his shoulder. He is also a poet who is unable to realise his dream of being published, because of a lack of inspiration, helped along by the fact that he is unable to engage in intimate, or even friendly relationships without analysing and deconstructing the situation until he alienates his companions.

Although John is a tiresome and depressing character, his observations about modern life are as relevant to today's society as they are to post-war London. After passing a number of days without speaking to anyone, he begins to mark each day with an S in his diary for silence: 

"Ouside the underground station he bumps by mistake against a little old man selling newspapers. 'Sorry!' he says. 'Watch where you're going!' snarls the man.

Sorry: the word comes heavily out of his mouth, like a stone. Does a single word of indeterminate class count as speech? Has what occurred between himself and the old man been an instance of human contact, or is it better described as mere social interaction, like a touching of feelers between ants…The memory of that single word will persist for weeks perhaps for the rest of his life" page 114

I think I would have loved this book as a depressed adolescent, but I just can't feel empathy, or even sympathy for this character. I know he is depressed and alienated, but his, admittedly well-described, self-indulgence tends to grate, and you wish he would just move back to Cape Town and stop moping about.

South African map courtesy of Wikipedia

On Beauty is Zadie Smith's third novel, after White Teeth and The Autograph Man. I listened to this on CD, read by Adjoa Andoh, who really brought to life all of the characters.

 The first thing to say is – buy a talking book! They are great for many reasons.

1. You don't have to read it yourself
2. You can read in the car
3. You can paint your nails / dye your hair / paint your living room whilst reading

It is also a totally different way of experiencing a book, in terms of the characters, because someone else has visualised them, and literally given them a voice.

Anyway, back to the book. On Beauty is set in Boston and London, and the plot revolves around two middle class families, the Belseys and the Kippses. Both patriarchs, Howard and Montague, are professors at the universities, and harbour a dislike for one another. Their wives, Kiki and Carleen, have a short but emotional friendship, allowing Kiki in particular, to reassess her life and marriage.

 The relationships between the children of the families are equally intertwined. In particular, the character of Levi interested me, because of his rejection of his middle class upbringing in favour of joining a semi-criminal group of Haitian boys, after becoming aware of the political struggle in their country. Levi's anarchic attempt to redistribute wealth affects the two families, and links to the friendship of Kiki and Carleen.

Zora is a self-conscious but assertive woman, whose attraction to a young rapper / poet brings to life the issues of class and race. Her jealousy of the vain and shallow Victoria, or 'V', is a poignant reminder of how it felt to be a teenager in love.

An interesting portrayal of American university life, but I have to say that, as a shortlisted title for the Orange Prize for Fiction, it's not as good as the wonderful The Night Watch by Sarah Waters, which, admittedly, is the only other one I have read.

If you have a fierce aversion to wishy-washy endings, maybe avoid, but otherwise, a great read.

EDIT:

Congratualtion to Zadie Smith on winning the Orange Prize!

Never have I read a book with names as weird as this. Agetta Lamian is the servant of Dr. Sabian Blake, a cabalist who has discovered the prophesy of Wormwood, the star which will fall to earth during Tribulation, in the Nemorensis, a much sought-after book, which is thought to hold the secrets of the universe. The trouble is that Sabian is not the only who wants it. A host of shady characters trawl the shit-soaked streets of London, eating cheese covered in mites, being chased by angels with their wings cut off. Wormwood also refers to the 'green fairy', absinthe, which contributes to some of the greed, vice and lust in the book's characters.

This book has been described as the "Christian Harry Potter", and in some ways it is. A fallen angel called Tegatus is bewitched by a female demon, in this life called Hezrin Flamberg. Ghosts roam the streets and bookshops of London, trapped between Heaven and Hell, their souls stolen by demons, their bodies flung out of a trapdoor on the London Bridge. There are clear biblical references, but the gory deaths – among them a heart ripped from a man's chest, the broken skin cauterised by the burning hand of the murderer – are far from the jolly ghosts and clean sofas of the Hogwarts common room.

I always love to read scenes where people eat, mainly because I love food, but this delicious plate of eels could change my mind:

Blake stabbed at the eels that writhed and squirmed and , spearing several, he quicky swallowed them whole, gulping the fish down as the taste of scales and salt gagged the back of his throat…'Delicious,' he said half-heartedly swallowing mouthfuls of air as he tried to keep the contents of his stomach from churning. He was convinced that they were still moving, that they would never die and would be seen again."

Nice….

All in all, I was never a fan of morality tales, what with the preachyness and all, but it is full of gross details about 18th century London which make you want to go back in time and give them a bar of soap.

Wikipedia for the picture of absinthe.

Winner of the 2005 Orange Prize for New Writers, 26a is the story of a Nigerian-English family in London. Identical twins Georgia and Bessi are the "Middle Child", who inhabit the loft of 26 Waifer Avenue, the eponymous "26a". With a sister on either side, they move through childhood and adolescence with increasingly differing views of the world.  Their Nigerian mother pines for her home, and her mother's ghost has a place by her side; their father has a violent disposition which only appears after a drink.

The girls, along with their sisters, Kemy and Bel, discover boys, make-up, and Michael Jackson, along with the harsh reality of sex, relationships, and unhappy parents.

Perhaps the most memorable character is Ham, the girls' pet hamster, whose untimely death at the beginning would bring a tear to a glass eye.

Ham's worldview:

"He was ginger-furred with streaks of white, trapped in a cage next to the dishwasher. What is it? the eyes said. Where am I? The view from the cage was a hamster-blur of washing machine, stacked buckets, breathless curtains and plastic bags full of plastic bags hanging from the ceiling like ghosts of slaughter. People, giants, walked through from other parts of the house, slamming the doors and setting off wind-chime bells. A sour-faced man with a morning tremble. A woman of whispers in a hair net, carrying bread and frozen bags of black-eyes beans…" page 4

I am very aware that many scenes from this book will stay in my mind for months to come, which is the sign of a great book, rather than a good one. I devoured most of it in Queen's Park on a sunny afternoon, and good weather is advised to make the most of this beautiful story.

The "one-ness" and "two-ness" of twins; sisterly relationships; London in the late 20th century; the concept of "home"; cultural awareness; depression: all of these are explored knowingly, with a touch of biographical detail and poetry which make this first novel great.

Bring on the next one, Diana Evans .

Thanks to Leol30 on flickr for this picture of a door with 26a on it.

I have recently realised that I have read a lot of books in my life. I have also realised that I have quite a bad memory, something that I had forgotten for a while.

So that I can remember everything I read, I will write a review of it, and it will be stored forever for prosperity, or until computers can no longer read html etc. 

 Thanks to ealasaid on flickr for this picture of a pile of books.