Read 50 books in 2007

Hugely entertaining and hysterically funny. I laughed out loud and found myself transported back to my teenage years, when the world was still an oyster and the anxieties and restrictions of adulthood were but vague shapes on a very distant horizon.

This is a road-trip which spans the globe. A seventeen year-old in limbo, waiting for his exam results and consequently his departure for university, decides to embark on the most outrageous of journeys, prompted by nothing more significant than a random visit to a pound-shop.

Written with a break-neck pace, and filled with hilarious characters such as the Spaniel-obsessed pensioner with a take-no-prisoners attitude to scrabble and the protagonist’s Gestapo-esque younger sister whose network of teenage agents keeps tabs on her brother’s every movement.

And yes, the title does make sense… eventually. Dare I suggest a sequel?

The dead are not really dead, according to this work of fiction. They aren’t around anymore, that’s for sure. You can’t touch them or see them and you mourn them upon their passing. But we remember them, even though they’re no longer with us and therein lies the principal theme of this book. The dead do still exist through the memories of the living.

This being the case, it is surmised that the dead move from our world and live in a city much like “Anytown, USA” which sprawls without boundaries or borders to provide a home for all those souls who are remembered by those who are still alive. Existence in this city lasts for as long as there are people still alive who hold memories of a particular person. Consequently when a soul is no longer remembered, its time in the city draws to an end and it simply vanishes, presumably to the next stage of existence.

But when vast numbers of inhabitants of this city disappear suddenly and without explanation, what does this signify for the world of the living, our world which teeters on the brink of devastation caused by terrorism, global industrialisation and disease?

This fascinating vision of the afterlife hinges on the heroism and endurance of a woman who epitomises the strength of the individual and the ability of the human spirit to surmount extreme situations with dignity and courage. I could not put this book down and read it in one sitting. It won’t leave you feeling elated, but it will make you think about the absolute fragility of existence.

This book is a fascinating insight into the motivation of a young British Muslim who turned his back on the peaceful, tolerant Islam of his parents and embraced a militant interpretation of his faith. He speaks with brutal and courageous honesty about the rise of extremism in a world religion which should be heeded by us all, understood and placed in the context of our multi-cultural society.

Husain is frank in his subsequent condemnation of those who use religious words to incite violence and hatred, to abuse and to suppress. Whatever your religious experience and viewpoint, I would recommend this book as a testament to balanced knowledge and not to biased and inaccurate news reports, which seem to label Islam as the source of the world’s problems.

The title character is as intriguing as he is troubled. A Scottish minister, Gideon has always grappled with the concept of faith and the existence of God, despite sermonising each Sunday and administering to the spiritual well-being of his congregation. His life has been one of brooding darkness and restraint; his father a spectre-like presence throughout his life, is a primary source of this dourness and gloom.

Whilst reading this book, I never felt the sun shining. The climate of the book seemed shrouded in damp cloud. I always felt upon the verge of darkness, like an autumn afternoon approaching dusk.

The absence of joy is a key to understanding Gideon’s motivations. Even when seemingly content with his life, tragedy strikes and he once again succumbs to his sullen and depressed outlook.

And then Gideon meets the Devil. He is rescued from the clutches of death by the same entity he has sworn to combat, as a member of the Christian clergy. However, they strike a relationship which is amicable and challenging and neither intimidating nor terrifying.

A book which had me questioning the boundaries and perceptions of what sanity actually is. Utterly compelling.

Finished! I don’t think I have ever felt such a sense of relief and accomplishment upon completion of a novel. Jane Austen is an author I had always felt I ought to have read. At the very least I have always harboured a nagging sense of duty to have watched at least one of the many screen adaptations of her works.
I “escaped” studying “Emma” at A-Level, in favour of “Great Expectations”, and I remember at the time being led to believe that as a class, we had been spared from an over-rated, agonising and protracted piece of literature, loosely described as a “glorified Mills & Boon love story”. As such I have never felt inclined to get familiar with the characters of “Mr Darcy” and “Miss Bennet”, my sense of prejudice leading me to imagine their tale to be one of doomed lovers, destined to fail overdramatically in their attempts at happiness.
But after a few false starts when I returned to the mythical first line, to gain my bearings, I plodded diligently through some of the most intense passages of dialogue I think I have ever encountered. But as I learned to accept the slow, steady rhythm of Austen’s writing, I found myself growing less and less impatient with the pace of the plot. I found myself relishing the precision of the interaction between the characters, entranced by the formality of social contact.
I always knew that Darcy would be the hero of the piece and I applaud the ending wholeheartedly.

Anyone reading the cover notes of this book might be fooled into thinking that its raison d’etre is to collect and celebrate George’s witty and bitchy opinions and observations about fellow celebrities. Well, he does dish the dirt, that has to be said. But this book is so much more than just a good gossip with a mate who’s “in-the-know”.

A huge fan of George since the 80s, I was already aware that his career has been far more diverse than many might realise. What this book did for me was to put a voice to the stilted chronology I had assembled through some twenty years of picking up on George’s latest venture or misadventure via the newspapers or television. I do mean voice because reading this book is like having George in the same room or at least on the end of a phone, guiding you through his thoughts and feelings, frankly and without embellishment.

George reveals how fame has afforded him great opportunities in life to pursue his creativity, be it channelled through music, photography or acting. He craves outlets for his energy and what really becomes clear is his diverse taste in expressing what it means to be an artist.

I found this latest autobiography brimming with positivity and hope. George’s ultimate revelation is his propensity to love. He has been blessed with the love and strength of family and friends and boy does George celebrate the importance in his life of these people. Intriguing, iconic and overwhelmingly human. Never a disappointment.

Having recently rediscovered the joys of my local library, I chanced upon this slim paperback which immediately grabbed my attention. Upon swift perusal I found that it is in fact, a retitled version of “The Wild Girl” which I read about fifteen years ago. I suppose the popularity of “The Da Vinci Code” and its entourage of literature, has if nothing else served to elevate the public awareness of the historical figure of the Magdalene, thus the retitling makes perfect sense.

The author reflects upon the perceived absence of the Sacred Feminine in the Christian religion by creating a family history and motivation behind Mary Magdalene, formerly known as a prostitute who memorably anointed Christ and dried his feet with her own hair. Hers is a journey from runaway rebel to lover of Christ which affords her the privilege of bearing witness to the legacy of Jesus after his apparent resurrection.

The first time I read this book I found the ideas and opinions quite revolutionary and staggering in their sense and simplicity. However, in our post-Da Vinci Code society, the feminisation of early Christianity is a lot less controversial in premise than it once seemed to this impressionable reader. I enjoyed renewing my acquaintance with this character and this author.

Surely the purpose of any novel is to reveal places and situations in the world that are unfamiliar to the majority of readers. The best novels make us feel as if we are walking the same path as the main characters and viewing their world through their eyes. They show us that windows to other worlds do in fact exist in the form of words on a page. They can be as clear and detailed as any television screen or postcard. Although I have never been to Newfoundland, I feel that I am now intimately familiar with this beautifully barren landscape, having “The Shipping News” as my guide.

The main character is the type of person life leaves behind. Quoyle is presented as an insignificant nobody whose physical stature is in complete contradiction with his sense of self-worth. Seemingly fated to be the eternal victim, Quoyle survives a series of abusive relationships. During childhood he is moulded into passive acceptance by his father’s aggressive intolerance. His wife’s adulterous promiscuity during his adulthood, leaves Quoyle further removed from the driving seat of his own existence. Resettling in the home of his ancestors gives Quoyle an opportunity and an impetus to reclaim control. He gradually learns and accepts that his qualities as a human being are far more abundant than he has been encouraged to believe. The novel describes his journey towards discovering his new place in the world.

Proulx has complete mastery of word-economy. She uses the bare minimum of words within a sentence to convey meaning. Slightly jarring at first, the absence of verb-subject agreement and abundance of isolated adjectives is something towards which the reader needs to acclimatise. But as the novel progresses one learns to adjust to her written style and this under-elaboration serves to enhance one’s comprehension of not just the story’s setting but the inner voices of the characters too.

I loved discovering the land of Newfoundland and at its heart this novel revolves around revealing this location as a character of depth and complexity in its own right. I look forward to seeing the film based upon the novel and hope that the images in my mind’s eye are matched by the director’s vision.

This was not a particularly riveting read, nor did the characters of the story immediately sustain my sympathies or interest. However, the book itself, as an object and an entity in its own right, is an absolute joy to behold, the turning of each page a delight and treat for the eyes.

It is gloriously illustrated throughout and succeeds magnificently in evoking the sumptuousness of Venetian court-life. The rich and captivating pages are ingeniously interspersed with envelopes, maps and letters, inviting the reader to enter into this world with more than just the eyes of a casual reader. Your eyes become those of the heroine, who glances upon the self-same Tarot cards you hold in your hand.

It is a love story set in 16th Century Venice, relying heavily upon the classic themes of forbidden love, deception and hidden identity. In an age when women were not entitled to pursue careers or callings, the main protagonist, Filamena is at odds with the warped morality of a society where to be an independent woman is to be at best, a prostitute.

Each chapter recounts a classic love story, from Tristan and Isolde to Isis and Osiris. The fates of these mythical lovers mirror choices and paths Filamena may have to face on her journey towards achieving a perfect love.

Personally I was attracted to the book because it promised a sensual feast for the eyes. It provided more than I would have expected because upon closing the cover at the story’s end, I felt something powerful had occurred within my heart.

I’ve really enjoyed Philippa Gregory’s series of historical fiction novels, based on figures from the Tudor Dynasty and their contempories. This book was given to me as a gift by someone sharing that passion.
The title character is a young woman, secretly keeping her Catholic faith in early 17th Century London. She becomes entangled within the web of conspiracy surrounding a plot to murder the new King of England and to re-establish Papal supremacy in the land.
Those British among us can probably recite the playground chant “Remember, remember, the 5th of November…” and bear witness each year to the celebrations marking Guy Fawkes’ foiled Gunpowder Plot. This book places it all into context and throws into the mix some memorable characters and insights into how life might have been in the squalid and seething streets of Jacobean London.
It was a book I started and left a few times before really attacking its pages with gusto during a recent holiday. There are some gory comeuppances and plenty of Dickensian twists to keep it from losing its entertainment value.