"Old Filth"; "The Man in the Wooden Hat"

Jane Gardam, the terrific English writer, has only recently been "discovered" in the United States, precipitated by the publication of her two most recent novels, "Old Filth" (Europa, 2006) and "The Man in the Wooden Hat" (Europa, 2009). These two novels are complementary; the first focuses on a husband and the second on his wife. We hear the same story from their two different viewpoints; each novel reveals new information. Sir Edward Feathers, nicknamed "Filth" for "Failed in London, try Hong Kong," has made his way in the still colonial Hong Kong of the post-World War II years, eventually rising to the position of a successful judge who is knighted, and retiring to the Dorset countryside at the end of his long career. He is an example of the effects of the British Empire on its children, having had a sad, almost parentless childhood in Malaysia and then Wales. Although he is somewhat emotionally stunted by this childhood, and has great trouble communicating his feelings, Gardam also shows his essential decency and humanity. His wife, Betty, has a very difficult childhood as well, having been starved in a Japanese internment camp in Shanghai during the war. This couple, each somewhat at sea in life, and needing some stability and human connection, stumbles into marriage. Gardam's depiction of their long, complicated marriage of almost 50 years is a masterpiece, as she portrays its constantly shifting landscape of happiness, unhappiness, secrets, and compromises. Jane Gardam is an astonishingly good writer; as soon as you begin reading either of these novels (and I strongly recommend you read both), you know you are in the hands of a master who is in complete control of her material. She has been called "mordantly funny" and"acerbic," both true, but she also shows us the underlying humanity of her characters, in all their complexity. So I recommend these books for their insider portrayal of British colonialism (a topic that has fascinated me since my childhood in India), for their startlingly original yet recognizable characters, and for the portrayal of Filth's and Betty's marriage. I also recommend Gardam's other novels; some that I have relished (and they are so good that you do "relish" them!) include "The People on Privilege Hill," "The Flight of the Maidens," and "The Queen of the Tambourine."

On Vacation Reading

Whether it be in a city, by a lake or ocean, or in the mountains, I have a few basic requirements for good vacation trips: beautiful locales, comfortable accommodations (no camping or roughing it for me!), and -- perhaps most critical -- an abundant provision of carefully selected books. There must be more than enough, more than I can possibly read, to ensure against the unthinkable disaster of running out of good reading material. When my parents had a lakeside summer cottage in Michigan for many years, I would spend two or three weeks there every summer. In the weeks before I (or we) left California for Michigan, I would carefully browse bookstores and accumulate a hefty stack of suitable books. Although for my regular reading, I often check out books from libraries, for vacations I prefer my own paperback books that I can read by a lake or pool without worrying about getting them wet, and that I can leave behind for others to read. The selection of vacation books has to be carefully calibrated. I don't generally want anything too "heavy," but I also don't want the proverbial "beach books" that are just too predictable and badly written. But there is a wide middle ground of wonderful novels, short story collections, and memoirs, and this is where I focus my selections. Going to Michigan (or anywhere I needed or need to fly), there was the delicious and slightly anxious decision about how many books to take onboard; I had to calculate how much I would read during the several hours flying out east. And, finally, there was the bliss of unpacking that pile of books at the cottage, stacking them on a dresser or bedside table, and knowing I could relax, enjoy the camaraderie of family, and sit on a deck chair by the gorgeous lake with a book in my hand and the prospect of more to come....what could be better?

"One Amazing Thing"

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you might be surprised to see that I am discussing this novel, as it was one of the books listed in my 3/5/10 post titled "On 'Perfectly Fine' Books" as not outstanding enough for me to highly recommend. However, my friend Mary asked that I consider writing about books I had recently read that I had mixed feelings about, explaining what I liked and didn't like about them. It was a good suggestion, so I will occasionally do that, starting today with "One Amazing thing" (Voice, 2010), a novel by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. I have read several of this author's novels, and generally enjoy them. The story in this one involves a diverse group of nine people trapped in the Indian consulate in an unnamed city (but seemingly San Francisco) by an earthquake. As they wait, hoping to be rescued, they decide that each person will tell a story about "one amazing thing" that has happened to her or him, along the lines of "Canterbury Tales," the book that one of the characters has been reading. The individual stories are compelling, even wrenching. And there are some intriguing and touching interactions among the characters. But the overall story is a bit pat, a bit too schematic, a bit too dependent on the artificial structure of the stitched-together stories. Some of the characters are shadowy and inadequately developed. The book is quite readable and will keep your attention, but finally, despite the gravity of the characters' situation, this novel seems to me rather lightweight and forgettable.

Diana Athill

A few days ago, I was very pleased to hear that Diana Athill's book "Somewhere Towards the End" (Granta, 2008) had just won the National Book Critics Circle Award for autobiography. Athill, who is English and a longtime literary editor, is now 92 years old. We are rarely given the gift of the viewpoint of someone of her years on what it is like to be aging, and more important, on what it is like to be alive and thriving at an advanced age. She said in an interview in the Guardian (1/5/09), "I think the fact that I'm in my 90s and still compos mentis, and able to write and have a nice time, is encouraging to people." I'm sure this is true; in addition, though, people read her work, and give her awards for it, because she is such a good writer. As her editor at Granta, Ian Jack, said, reading her is "like having someone speak into your ear, someone humane and self-amused and wise" (Guardian, 10/31/09). This book about her old age is her sixth memoir; the most well-known three were written in the author's 80s. In addition to "Somewhere Towards the End," they are "Stet: A Memoir" (Granta, 2000) about her long career as an editor, but also including much about her personal life, and "Yesterday Morning: A Very English Childhood" (Granta, 2002), whose title is self-explanatory. In all three memoirs (and these are the three that I have read; I plan to seek out the earlier ones as well), Athill is remarkably and straightforwardly candid, including about her love life and affairs. She is also quite modest about her talents, despite being a leading editor and then consultant with the publisher Andre Deutsch for over 40 years, and working with such esteemed writers as Simone de Beauvoir, V. S. Naipaul, Jean Rhys, Margaret Atwood, John Updike, Norman Mailer, and Philip Roth. Happily for us, Athill is still writing, and is now, at 92, achieving the greatest success and renown of her life thus far.

The Threepenny Review

The Threepenny Review is a wonderful quarterly publication on literature and the arts that is edited and published by Wendy Lesser in Berkeley. Besides insightful book reviews, it publishes essays on music, art, architecture, and all the arts; it also includes poetry, fiction, memoirs, and photographs. Two characteristics of the Threepenny Review always strike me, every single issue. First, there is a sense of abundance and generosity. Whole pages are devoted to poetry; photographs are plentiful and large, with enough space around them to allow us to truly appreciate them. Second, most of the writing has the piquancy of originality, sometimes quirkiness, often surprise. For example, the Fall 2009 issue includes "A Symposium on the Piano," in which various writers comment on the topic from various angles (the piano as furniture, the piano as art, the piano as it influenced Kandinsky and other artists, the question of how pianos should reproduce Baroque music, and a riff on various types of pianos by the jazz pianist Ethan Iverson). The same issue includes multiple photographs by Ben Shahn throughout its pages; as the photography note points out, Shahn - the painter, muralist, and printmaker - "is probably least known for his photographs" (p. 7), so this issue gives us a different view of an artist we have known in a different way. The Threepenny Review is informative, enjoyable, and even exciting to read; I feel a sense of discovery when I read each new issue. As a bonus, subscriptions are inexpensive.

Two Recent Essay Collections

In recent years I have found myself reading more essays than in the past. I highly recommend two recent collections of essays. The well-regarded novelist Michael Chabon's "Manhood for Amateurs: The Pleasures and Regrets of a Husband, Father, and Son" (Harper, 2009) includes engaging pieces on the author's own childhood, his marriage, his children, and much more. Although I was a bit wary of the book, just as I am of all the attention men often receive if they do parenting tasks that women have always done without special acclaim, I was won over by Chabon's honesty, modesty, originality, and beautiful writing. As an aside: Chabon and his wife, the writer Ayelet Waldman, are active in the literary community here in the San Francisco Bay Area (they live in Berkeley); for example, I saw Chabon interview the political cartoonist Garry Trudeau at the Herbst Theater in San Francisco, and I briefly met Waldman at an event at one of my favorite bookstores, Book Passage in Corte Madera.

The English writer Zadie Smith, also a well-known novelist (whose novels include "White Teeth" and "On Beauty," both wonderful) has a new book, "Changing My Mind: Occasional Essays" (Penguin, 2009) that includes essays on books, movies, politics, and family; it ends with a touching tribute to her father. The writing is thoughtful, personal, and often illuminating, and is written in a direct, almost conversational tone. The pieces I particularly like include those on E. M. Forster, George Eliot, and other writers who have influenced Smith's own writing. (Her novel "On Beauty" is loosely based on the structure and story of E. M. Forster's masterpiece, "Howards End," one of my all-time favorite novels.)

"The Uncommon Reader," by Alan Bennett

A small (120 pages), very witty and funny book that I have recently pressed on friends is Alan Bennett's "The Uncommon Reader" (Farrar,Straus, & Giroux, 2007). When I first read reviews of the book, and for some time after, I resisted reading it, as it sounded too gimmicky, too "cutesy." However, when I finally gave in and read it, I loved it. Its humorous, tongue in cheek premise is that the Queen of England suddenly -- through her unlikely accidental friendship with a lowly but well-read palace cook's assistant named Norman -- discovers the pleasures of reading. She becomes completely besotted with books, devouring classics, contemporary novels, memoirs, and more, to the surprise and sometimes barely stifled displeasure of some around her. She is unfazed by controversial themes, salty language, or risque illustrations, taking it all in imperturbable stride. The only thing that bothers her is that she didn't start reading sooner. Along the way, she airily or acerbically tosses off deadpan amusing comments about books. For example, on being asked by members of her public if she has read the Harry Potter books (she doesn't like fantasy), she "invariably said briskly 'One is saving that for a rainy day' and passed swiftly on" (p. 43). And while reading Henry James, she comments aloud, "Oh, do get on" (p. 49) (but doesn't stop reading!). This is a lovely book, a real treat for readers who love books about books, and an extra treat for those of us who love all things English.