The Time-Traveller's Strife

A few years ago, I read the brilliant 'Little Boy Lost' by Marghanita Laski.  Ever since, I've wanted to read more by her and this month I finally got around to 'The Victorian Chaise-Longue'.

'The Victorian Chaise-Longue'
by Marghanita Laski
(Persephone Books, 1999)

In 1950s London, new mother Melanie is recovering from TB, supported by her husband Guy, the calm, firm Dr Gregory and the efficient childminder Sister Smith.  Following months confined to bed, the doctor decides Melanie can have a change of scene and rest in a room nearer her infant son.  After some consideration, a suitable place is chosen for her, a Victorian chaise-longue she bought just before she was diagnosed.  Thrilled by even this small freedom, Melanie is tucked up on the antique couch and soon falls asleep.  But when she wakes, everything is different.  Is it all just a vivid dream or has she really slipped through time to become a stranger?

It's clearly not a good month for me.  I saved reading PD James' introduction to 'The Victorian Chaise-Longue' until I'd read the novella itself.  If I hadn't, I wouldn't have realised it was a horror story.  I suppose that I'm so used to the time-traveller narrative that I never expected anything other than a happy ending.  I'm not saying that there is a happy ending, just that I always thought there would be, which affected my reading of this book.

The story plays on the themes of identity and appreciating what you have in the modern world, rather than longing for a rose-tinted view of the past.  The heroine becomes increasingly frustrated at being trapped in body of someone long dead, which other readers have found frightening.  I suppose it's a measure of how unimpressed I was with Melanie and how used I am to exploring lives real and imagined through books that I just didn't find this unnerving at all.  Perhaps as some people can happily watch the most gory of horror films with no concerns, I can read about irritating women being taught a lesson without getting scared.

Which is probably the basic issue I had.  'The Victorian Chaise-Longue' was an interesting and well written book, but ultimately I didn't give two hoots about Melanie.  She was clearly pampered and properly looked after and, though TB is a terrible disease, she was recovering from it.  Even when the metaphorical rug is whipped out from under her and she gets a taste of a very different time with morals and medical care that seem almost barbaric by today's standards, I'd pegged the book as a morality tale, little more than a fairy story for grown ups.

This hasn't put me off wanting to read more by Ms Laski and I understand that Persephone Books publish more of her work, but I was a bit disappointed by 'The Victorian Chaise-Longue'.  I hope that a second reading will allow me to pick up some hints that I missed the first time round, but I'm afraid that the best I can say about it is that it's alright. Still, I suppose I can't adore everything.

Fingers crossed that I'm a bit more excited by my next read! If you have any suggestions, don't forget that you can tweet them to me via @Girl_LovesBooks.

Now, what next...!

The Old Man and the Spy

It's taken a while, but I have finally finished the AudioGo recording of Ian Fleming's 'From Russia with Love'.  This version was read by Toby Stephens, who fans will recognise as the villain Gustav Graves from 'Die Another Day'.

'From Russia with Love' by Ian Fleming
Read by Toby Stephens
(AudioGo, 2012)

James Bond is a marked man.  The Russian spy-killers SMERSH have decided they need to bag a big name and none come bigger than Bond.  Orchestrated by Colonel Rosa Klebb and chess master Kronsteen, SMERSH set a trap with the twin temptations of the beautiful Corporal Tatiana Romanova and a top secret Spektor coding machine.  Although suspicious, M and Bond decide it is a prize worth making a play for and before long the famous secret agent is on his way to Istanbul, unaware that Russia's top assassin, Donovan Grant, is on his tail...

Unfortunately, I found this story hard work.  It starts well enough, with a focus on Grant and his origins, but once the story moved to the boardrooms of the Russian military, my mind began to wander.  In the paperback, it's more than 90 pages before Bond makes an appearance, but it's hard to believe that it's purely his absence that stopped it holding my attention.  I usually like it when Fleming tries something different, but I think this time it fell a bit flat and led to a lack of tension early on, for me anyway.

Whether I enjoy each Bond novel often seems to hinge on how much I like the female lead.  Romanova seemed a bit too much of a push-over, little more than a pair of blue eyes and some fluttering lashes.  That may appeal to a certain male audience, but I'm afraid I need a brain too please.  I know that the girls can't outshine Bond and that these books represent the values of a different era, but it's always more fun when the ladies get a look in on the action rather than just being damsels in distress.

I think my love of the film version was also a big problem here.  'From Russia with Love' is one of

'From Russia with Love'
by Ian Fleming
(Penguin Modern Classics, 2004)

my favourites, so I had high hopes that the book would exceed the movie and flesh out the key characters, particularly Kerim and Klebb.  To a degree it did, but unfortunately I didn't really like what I found out, especially about the apparently lovable Kerim.  I'm very glad that the sexual politics of today don't accept 'taming' women the same way they did in 1957.

Overall, I was a bit disappointed by the book.  Perhaps people who haven't seen the film will get more out of it because they don't know the basic plot, but I doubt there are many people who haven't watched it already and that doesn't make up for the dodgy way the female characters are portrayed and treated.  On the whole, like Grant and Klebb, it's a bit odd, but that won't stop me pushing on with the rest of Fleming's novels.

I will return.... with the rather different 'The Victorian Chaise-Longue' by Marghanita Laski!

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The End is just the Beginning

Oh dear.  Not a great start to the year then,  Six weeks in and only two books down.  Will have to try harder.  Or just read shorter books...

I've just finished 'So, Anyway...', John Cleese's bestselling autobiography.  Beginning with his early life in Weston-super-Mare, Cleese charts his growth as a person, writer and comedy performer, describing the many people who influenced him.  Fondly remembered teachers, intimidating family members and supportive friends and colleagues are all woven into the story of how Cleese went from Somerset boy to Cambridge law student to BBC comedy legend.

Unusually for an autobiography, this book manages to end on a cliffhanger!  It probably annoyed a

'So, Anyway...' by
John Cleese
(Random House Books, 2014)

lot of readers, but Cleese ends his narrative just as the Monty Python team begin working together for the first time, so doesn't actually cover a lot of his most famous work in detail, such as 'Fawlty Towers' or 'A Fish Called Wanda'.  A lot of people may find this annoying, but I actually enjoyed the earlier parts of the book most and got the feeling that the author might've done too.

One thing that did annoy me a bit, however, was something Cleese said about two thirds of the way through.  Justifying his decision to include some brilliant extracts from his early TV and other work, he declares it a fact that most readers "don't give a tinker's cuss for me as a human being or feel for the many different forms of suffering that make me so special".  How wrong you are, Mr Cleese!  I found the earlier chapters much more interesting and enjoyed learning more about your background and what made you into the iconic comedy writer you are now.

The later chapters include a number of sketches from various broadcasts, but, while illuminating for someone like me who is too young to remember them, they felt like something for the author to hide behind.  I felt the book was actually at its most interesting when Cleese offered his thoughts on psychology and the thought process that goes on behind writing or performing.  The very best at anything always make it look easy, so it's good to hear more about the intelligence and work behind it rather than just the Hollywood-dream-celebrity-culture-anyone-can-do-it-if-they-want-it-enough scenario that we're all force-fed nowadays.

Overall, I enjoyed this book very much and think fans of John Cleese and the 1960s' satire boom will do too.  I'm not sure whether I'd read a second autobiography, but then I got the feeling the author felt that such a book would be unnecessary. perhaps because so much has been written about the Python team already.  If he skipped that era entirely and began again with his post-Python work, I think I would be tempted.  But in the meantime, I think I have quite a lot to keep me busy already!