Dreaming Shires

 

I have read 'Jude the Obscure' by Thomas Hardy, and now I need therapy.

'Nicholas Nickleby' by Charles Dickens

OK, so I cracked. There were just too many TV programmes praising that giant of Victorian literature, Charles Dickens, so I decided it was time to give him another go. I'm not saying I was bullied by a combination of Gyles Brandreth, Miriam Margoyles, Armando Iannucci et al, but...

Money, Money, Money

Reading the back of 'Keep the Aspidistra Flying' by George Orwell sent a bit of a chill down my spine.  Like many people who enjoy writing, I've daydreamed about what it would be like to throw in the towel and try to make it as a full-time wordsmith of fiction.  Here was that same idle thought made 90 years ago and turned into a novel by one of our greatest 20th century writers.  And it didn't sound like it turned out well.  With trepidation, I open the book and began to read...

The Final Count Down

'The Count of Monte Cristo' by Alexandre Dumas (Translated by Robin Buss)

Like any normal person, there's only so much nagging I can take.  "You must read 'The Count of Monte Cristo'!" my friend kept telling me.  In the end, I cracked.  When it arrived, too big to fit through the letter box, I wondered what on Earth I'd let myself in for.  Turned out to be 1300 pages of intrigue, adventure and revenge.

#SheToo

'Tess of the D'Urbervilles' by Thomas Hardy

As long-term readers of this blog know, I struggle with The Classics.  I'm sure I'm not the only one, just as I'm sure everyone has their own reason for avoiding Austen, distancing from Dickens, or backing away from the Brontës.  

I myself have been hiding from Hardy ever since we did 'The Mayor of Casterbridge' at school.  I don't remember much about the experience, but since then have always associated Hardy with impenetrable, long-winded prose and depressing plots.  But a recent encounter with 'Tess of the D'Urbervilles' may have changed all that.  Well, the first bit anyway. 

Back to the Future

'The Time Machine' by HG Wells (Gollancz reprint, 2001)

So, as Old Father Time used his scythe to harvest 2018, I, rather appropriately, found myself reading the Science Fiction classic 'The Time Machine' by HG Wells.

In a middle class, Edwardian drawing room, a brilliant scientist and engineer demonstrates his latest invention; a Time Machine. His audience of intellectual friends include a Psychologist, a Provincial Mayor and a Doctor, who, despite what they see, remain unconvinced of his achievement.  Determined to prove his theories, the Time Traveller sets out on an adventure in time, intending to bring back future proof of humanity's advances from centuries to come.  But when he lands in 802,701, he's shocked by what he finds.  The docile Eloi and the crumbling structures they inhabit disappoint his ideals of curiosity and the pursuit of knowledge.  But disappointment turns to horror when he encounters a second branch of the Homo Sapien family tree - the sinister, darkness-dwelling Morlocks - and he begins to realise where the ills of his present could ultimately lead.  Is it too late for civilisation or has the Time Traveller arrived just in time to give these descendants a better future?

The Best of Birds

Book recommendations are a bit of a mine field.  On the one hand, I love to hear about the great books other people have discovered and hear them talk enthusiastically about how stories have changed their lives. But I'm also very aware that reading is subjective and it's not possible to like absolutely everything, no matter how much you may want to.  So many people I know love Dickens or Austen, but I have to make polite excuses worthy of a Regency heroine whenever they're mentioned because I just don't get on with them at all.

One book that has come up many, many times over the years is 'To Kill a Mocking-Bird' by the late Harper Lee.  So many friends had recommended it, including local legend Len Copland, that I was really apprehensive about reading it.  I finally picked it up last month and boy I needn't have worried.

'To Kill a Mocking-Bird'
by Harper Lee
(Arrow Books, 1997)

'To Kill a Mocking-Bird' is a modern classic.  Set in the Deep South of the 1930s, it is a story of innocence, justice and prejudice told from the perspective of a young girl, Scout.  Scout, her older brother Jem and summer time friend Dill watch the grown up world with wide-eyed fascination, trying to make sense of the apparently irrational adults around them.  When Scout and Jem's lawyer father Atticus Finch volunteers to represent a black man accused of raping a white woman, they are inadvertently caught up in a series of events that will crystallise the contradictions of the adult world and bring unexpected dangers.

Having read it, I now completely understand why 'To Kill a Mocking-Bird' was such a staple of English Literature classes in UK schools.  Scout's voice and worldview are perfectly portrayed, meaning children can identify with it immediately, while adults soon slip back in time and begin remembering how it felt to be her age in a big, bewildering world.

'To Kill a Mocking-Bird' is a book which will keep me thinking for a very long time.  It is also on a very elite list of books which I definitely want to read again.  Ms Lee has written something succinct rather than short, crafting a plot that diligently leaves a breadcrumb trail for us to follow until the bitter end.  The more I think about this book, the more I want to know and the more I want to return to its pages and check what I missed first time round.

Ms Lee herself is one of the book's most interesting features.  'To Kill a Mocking-Bird' draws very obviously from her own experiences, including life in a small town in the southern United States and being the daughter of a lawyer.  Ms Lee passed away while I was planning this post and the question on many people's lips seemed to be 'When she could write like this, why didn't she write more?'.  I suspect a lot of people are hoping something will be found, in a vault, under the bed, in a box of trinkets.  Regardless, by writing just one book (and such a well-loved one at that), she's left readers with no where to go once they've finished it and it's draft ('Go Set a Watchman').  I for one will be looking out for a biography of this enigmatic writer.

Overall, this is a book that grows with the reader.  Those who read it as children can return to it as adults and read it anew.  It's engaging and thought provoking on a range of themes and topics.  It cannot and should not be reduced to the story of a court case.  There is so much more going on, much like there is so much more happening outside of Scout's field of understanding.

Thoroughly recommended.

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...!

More than Skin Deep

I've just finished 'The Illustrated Man' by Ray Bradbury, a collection of short pieces by the master story teller.

'The Illustrated Man' by
Ray Bradbury
(Harper Voyager, 2008)

When the unnamed narrator meets the Illustrated Man on a deserted Wisconsin road, he has no idea what secrets he has hidden beneath his thick shirt.  For the Illustrated Man's skin is tattooed with pictures that grow, move and tell stories of the future, cursing every moment of his life as they writhe beneath his skin.  Driven to despair and unable to hold down a job for more than a few days, the Illustrated Man keeps moving from place to place searching for a peace he will never find.  On this particular night, as he drifts off to sleep, the narrator becomes entranced as the tales of hope, beauty, horror and revenge come to life before him...

Mr Bradbury is most famous 'Fahrenheit 451', the novel about a dystopian future where books are banned and burned and a life lived through TV is the norm.  Similar themes of threat, dehumanisation and how we gain and loose from technological developments also run through 'The Illustrated Man'.

Sometimes technology turns on us and leads to disaster, as in 'The City' or 'Kaleidoscope', while 'The Rocket' is a story of how it inspires.  'Marionettes, inc' and 'Usher II', clearly related to 'Fahrenheit 451', show dashes of dark humour, while 'The Fox and the Forest' is a thriller that just happens to be about time travel.  'The Other Foot' explores racial hatred from a new perspective, while 'The Veldt' and 'Zero Hour' show a worrying distrust of children.

The best science fiction is always about humanity and this collection of stories is no exception.  It's probably a bit more niche than some of what I've read previously, as in there are stories actually set in space and on other planets, but overall this ensemble captured my imagination, without frightening me off with the 'sciency bit'.

I've never really understood why people dismiss science fiction.  Why write off a whole genre? A good story is a good story, whether it's set in the past, present, future or a space station somewhere to the left of Mars.  As is often the case, many of these stories can be filed under more than one category, which I think makes them easier to recommend to people who would normally baulk at the idea of reading science fiction.

Overall, if you're going to read science fiction short stories, Bradbury is where you start.  I also enjoy Asimov, but his stories are basically logic problems as he tries to find holes in the three laws of robotics.  But that's a review for another time!

Mega Bite

I really don't get the modern thing about vampires being sexy.  I understand where it all came from - the whole hypnotic, animal magnetism thing - but it's really gone too far.  They're predators that rip people's throats out, for crying out loud, not harmless, puppy-eyed boys who just need someone to change them!  If I were conspiratorially inclined, I'd start wondering if we were being prepared for some sort of undead invasion.  Or was that just an episode of 'Being Human' I once saw..?

The big noise in vampire circles has to be Dracula and I have finally finished the Bram Stoker novel of the same name.

'Dracula' begins with solicitor Jonathan Harker travelling to a castle in remote Transylvania.  Seeing the local superstitions as quaint and backward, he fails to realise how much danger he is in until it's too late. Harker has been employed to complete a house purchase for Count Dracula and, once done, he finds himself trapped in the castle as his host's eccentricities are revealed as something more sinister.  Meanwhile, back in England, friends Lucy Westernra and Mina Murray are planning their futures.  While Mina waits for her fiancé Harker to return and Lucy picks Arthur Holmwood from a trio of suitors, the girls dream of a future of wedded bliss.  But dreams soon turn to nightmares as Lucy's sleepwalking puts her in harm's way and the friends find themselves the victim of some unknown horror...

In a way, I feel a bit sorry for 'Dracula'.  The book was seized by film makers almost as soon as it was published and, like Sherlock Holmes or James Bond, the character has outgrown and evolved far beyond the original source material.  Everyone thinks they know Dracula, so it's really hard to leave all that baggage at the front cover and come to the book with an open mind.

The other reason why this book took me six weeks to read is the language.  'Dracula' is at times tense, exciting, unnerving and action-packed, but unfortunately I find 19th century prose really heavy going.  The long sections of dialogue were frustrating and hard work and Stoker's depiction of Professor Van Helsing's accent swings between embarrassing and racist to modern eyes.  As a result, I didn't exactly steam through it.

I'm very glad I persevered, however, and did finish the book because I discovered that it wasn't about what I thought it was about.  It's often said that great stories or characters live on because they're reinterpreted for different times.  So, for example, vampirism has been used as a metaphor for lust, for addiction and for contageous disease.  It turns out that 'Dracula' is actually about old vs new, ancient vs modern and tradition vs technology.

It's also about other things too, like solitude and friendship, teamwork and faith.  But what it's not about is sexy, seductive, aristocratic men and the promise of eternal youth.  But hopefully, that's just the latest interpretation and in a few years we'll see something new come around which doesn't seem quite as distasteful in a modern world of airbrushing, body dysmorphia and eating disorders.

Overall, 'Dracula' was quite an interesting and, I suppose, thought-provoking, read, but I wouldn't recommend it unless you're lucky enough to find old fashioned writing styles a doddle.  Equally, however, I'm not aware of any film or TV adaptation I'd recommend either.  In truth, although I doubt I'll ever read this book again, I may listen to it on CD, which I suppose continues the novel's main theme!  Hopefully the BBC have done a really good adaptation, but in the meantime, it's back to the shelves!

A view across Whitby

Oh, Mr Darcy!

As you may have noticed, I'm a bit of a collector of book related silliness.  I tweeted recently about a massive statue of a soggy Mr Darcy erected to promote a new TV channel.  I'm guessing the 1995 BBC version of 'Pride and Prejudice' in which Colin Firth takes his now legendary dip will be a feature in its schedules.  Anyway, you have no idea how pleased I was when I had a day trip to the National Trust's Lyme Park recently and saw it for myself!  Not what I expected, for sure!

Lyme Park is well worth a wonder round if you like that kind of thing, with some lovely but manageable grounds and very friendly guides in the rooms.  Don't forget to return your leaflets, though, they're quite strict about that sort of thing!

The Audacity of Hope

I've just finished reading Walter Tevis' science fiction classic 'The Man Who Fell to Earth'.  It wasn't quite what I expected; in fact it was much, much better.

'The Man Who Fell to Earth' by Walter Tevis
(Penguin Modern Classics, 2009)

Thomas J. Newton is a man like no other on Earth.  Too tall, too pale and too fragile, onlookers soon notice something strange about the purposeful multi-millionaire, although thought of his wealth often silences their worries.  Appearing from nowhere with technological schematics representing a great, and unexpected, leap forward for mankind, Newton comes to the attention of inquisitive academic Nathan Bryce.  After much effort, Bryce begins working for Newton's organisation, contributing to a huge and complex building project the like of which the world has never seen. Although sated for a time, Bryce becomes more and more suspicious of his new employer and determines to discover his secret.  Unfortunately, he's not the only one interested in Newton and his motives.

I really enjoy this sort of science fiction.  Anyone who dismisses it as 'nerdy', 'geeky' or 'cult' is missing out on some wonderful explorations of society and what it means to be human.  Unlike with the big hitters such as 'The Handmaid's Tale' or 'Brave New World', I didn't know much about the story before I started reading it.  I thought it was a straight forward Earth invasion tale, so I was delighted to find it is so much more.  It's hard to believe it's not better known as a book as well as a film, but then again perhaps I've just led a bit of a sheltered life!

The key characters of Newton and Bryce are beautifully and sympathetically portrayed, easy to relate to and realistically believable (not something that goes hand-in-hand with the stereotype of science fiction!).  It's hard not to be drawn in by Newton and really feel for him as he begins to doubt himself, his mission and even his own people.  In fact, I think his is a story that anyone who has suffered from moments of self doubt will really relate to.

The themes of distance, alienation and hope are meticulously explored through this story and yet the only parts I found a bit hard going were the paragraphs which described scientific methods.  You'd think I could cope with that sort of thing, especially as it must've been quite simple technology, but I did feel at times that I needed a sort of idiot's guide so I could get my head around a few basic principles!  It's a long time since I did my GCSEs and, let's face it, technology has changed an awful lot since 1963!  Although not under alien influence, as far as I know..!

Overall, 'The Man Who Fell to Earth' is a fascinating novel about humanity which deserves a wider readership and a place on the school syllabus.

I must be having a good week because I'm also 80% of the way through another book, so hope to be back blogging for you again soon! 

Lost Properly?

I've just finished 'Little Boy Lost' by Marghanita Laski, one of Persephone Books' rediscovered 20th century classics.  How this gem of a novel remained buried until the early 2000s, I'll never know!

'Little Boy Lost'
by Marghanita Laski
(Persephone Books, 2001)

After the death of his Parisian wife in occupied France, English poet Hilary Wainwright is content to believe that his baby son perished with her.  But when an unexpected guest arrives with news that the child may still be alive, Hilary suddenly finds himself duty-bound to begin searching for his son.  Returning to France after the war, he reluctantly follows a trail through the corrupt and abused country, until he meets a little boy in a poor orphanage 50 miles from Paris.  Every day for a week, he gets to know the child, Jean, but remains torn between his selfish desire for intellectual solitude and his need to love and be loved.

'Little Boy Lost' is a beautifully crafted, well observed analysis of Hilary, a complicated man caught between his desire to secrete himself away in an intellectual ivory tower and properly grieve for his lost wife and son.  He's not particularly likeable, but he is a realistic, contradictory human being.  As a result, tension is created not just by the will-he-won't-he search for the lost little boy, but also by whether Hilary is actually likely to make a good enough father.

His potential son Jean absolutely broke my heart.  I know I'm a big softy, but I was so affected by this story that I cried my eyes out over this fictional child.  I think this was the result of the post-war setting; there are probably children like Jean left homeless and lost after every conflict and this tale deftly reminds the reader of   the innocent and often lifelong victims of war.

Overall, 'Little Boy Lost' is an absolute emotional rollercoaster which forces you to keep reading in the hope everything would turn out well, but never gives the slightest reassurance that it could.  Right until the final pages, I had no idea which way it would go and whether the rug would be pulled out from under me and my hopes dashed.  Having built up the tension over 219 pages, in the end the writer breaks it perfectly in just one line.

It may not be a cheery ride, but I would thoroughly recommend this book.  It's extremely well written, features interesting and complex characters and is a real lesson in suspense. I can't wait to read more by the author and find out what other treasures have been unearthed by the clever people at Persephone Books!

Getting A Head

I've just finished reading 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow' by Washington Irving on Kindle, an appropriate story for this time of year and the sort of weather we've been having this week!

'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow' is a short story set in New England in the 1800s.  Sleepy Hollow is an idyllic rural area where the Dutch settlers enjoy nothing more than a night swapping 'true' ghost stories on the porch after a good meal.  Into their company comes Ichabod Crane, the school master employed by the community  to teach the local boys.  The geeky dreamer takes a shine to heiress Katrina Van Tassell, much to the annoyance of her beau, the mischievous Abraham Van Brunt.  After an evening of spooky tales and rejection by the flirtatious beauty, Crane begins the lonely journey home, only to end up riding into legend.

I've wanted to read this story for an awfully long time.  Ever since I can remember, it's come up in all sorts of programmes and movies I've watched, from Scooby Doo to the 1999 Johnny Depp/Tim Burton film.  After seeing how it permeated American culture, I wanted to know what had inspired them so in the original.

To be honest, I think the key word here is culture.  Just as it's hard to say why British stories such as the Loch Ness Monster or Beast of Bodmin Moor have caught the public imagination, I'm a bit perplexed as to why this story has seemed to me to be everywhere!

'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow' is an OK story, with some excellently observed descriptions of the American countryside, but it's the latter that make it worth a read rather than the former.  Perhaps the reason it's had such longevity is its simplicity - it makes it endlessly adaptable and possible to build a number of plots around the basic relationships of the key players.

'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow' is a good, quick read for a classic dark, chilly winter's night, but don't expect to have nightmares or even find yourself spooked by something glimpsed from the corner of your eye.  Unless of course you spend a lot of time walking through forests in the dark.

Right then, what next?

Previously from The Girl Who Loves Books...

Quite surprisingly, I'm taking longer than expected to finish 'How to be Woman' by Caitlin Moran, so I thought you might like to see a few of my pre-blog reviews, written before I realised I had quite so much to read!  Enjoy and I hope to have something new for you soon!

'My Wicked, Wicked Ways' by Errol Flynn

When I found out about this book, I knew I had to read it. I've loved the films of Errol Flynn ever since I was a child. His movies took me on exciting adventures in exotic lands beyond my innocent imagination and instilled in me a love of adventure stories which I have carried into adulthood. This book, the story of his life, is possibly the greatest adventure story of them all. Beginning with Flynn's youth in Tasmania, Australia, we follow him to gold mines and plantations in New Guinea, casinos and brothels of South East Asia, the highs and lows of the down-and-out life in Sydney and Queensland, his early acting career in England and finally to the glitz of Hollywood and the exoticism of Jamaica. In these pages we encounter angry native tribes, sharks and crocodiles, con tricks and diamond smuggling, high profile court cases and tempestuous relationships. But, surprisingly, we also find reflection and philosophy. According to the introduction by Jeffrey Meyers, this book was written to be scandalous, but the charm of the subject wins through. Although I approached the book determined to take it with a pinch of salt and not be seduced, 438 pages later I was more fascinated by Flynn than ever. However, I did feel that there was something missing. The story felt incomplete without photographs and an epilogue explaining what happened to Flynn and the key characters in his life. But that might just be me being greedy. Overall, this book spans fifty years of adventure, mischief and excitement and is well worth a read by any armchair explorer or devotee of Hollywood.

'Frenchman's Creek' by Daphne Du Maurier

Despite being a work of fiction, this book feels as though it tells a real-life tale of the author's personal feelings of isolation and longing. Set in the reign of Charles II, `Frenchman's Creek' tells the story of the restless and unhappy Lady Dona St Columb, who flees London after playing a practical joke on an unfortunate countess, egged on by the rake Rockingham. Feeling guilty about what she has done and unhappy at what her life has become, she seeks isolation at her husband's Cornish estate and finds joy in the simple pleasures of playing with her children and exploring the coast. On one such walk, she encounters a French pirate, Jean Aubrey, and her life takes an unexpected turn... Du Maurier wrote this book while in Langley End, Hertfordshire, away from the wild Cornish landscape which she loved, perhaps inspiring Dona's sense of longing in the story. Also, according to Sheila Hodges, Du Maurier's editor, Dona carries many of the authors own feelings about wanting to be a boy, the Cornish countryside and her passion for freedom (P. 30, the Daphne Du Maurier Companion, Ed. Helen Taylor). This was certainly the feeling I got while reading the book. Unfortunately, this view of the female experience has become a bit of a cliché in recent years and as a modern feminist, it made me a bit uncomfortable. I stuck with the book, however, and am glad that I did because the pace and adventure quickens as the story progresses, leading to a satisfying ending. Although I don't feel this is Du Maurier's best work and wouldn't recommend it to a first time reader (unless in their mid-teens!), it was enjoyable and should be accepted for what it is - a bit of romantic escapism.

'The Turn of the Screw' by Henry James

This book was one of the most difficult, irritating and intriguing things I have ever read. This novella is usually described as a classic ghost story. It tells the story of a vulnerable young woman who takes the position of governess at an Essex country house called Bly. She is to look after two angelic, orphaned children, a boy, Miles, and a girl, Flora, with the help of the housekeeper, Mrs Grose. After a letter arrives announcing Miles' expulsion from school, the unfortunate governess begins to doubt that all is as it should be with the children and starts to see signs of a supernatural cause.

This story was written in 1898, but, unlike other novels of the period, its language and style have not aged well. At some points I found it almost incomprehensible and had to read and reread some pages three or four times to get any meaning from them whatsoever. I am not entirely sure whether the style reflected the time or whether the writer was trying to imply something with the overly complex and repetitive writing of the governess. What I do know is that you should never judge a book by its thickness and assume you will finish it quickly.

Underneath the leaden prose, the themes of the book were consistent and the story is interesting. It challenged the reader to decide whether the governess was genuinely threatened or whether she was mad and does make you think.

Mad or not, I found it hard to like the governess, though I recognised the stubbornness of someone in their late teens/early twenties who is determined to show that they can do things without help. I found myself wondering why she did not speak to the local priest if the threat was supernatural. And why, after the disturbing end to the book, was she still able to work as a governess? The latter certainly just did not make sense to me.

Overall, I would say this is a challenging read, partly because its language is so complex, partly because it behaves like a puzzle with multiple solutions. Either way, it will certainly haunt the reader long after the last page is finished.

'Interview with the Vampire' by Anne Rice

It's been over a week since I finished this book and I still don't feel like I have a handle on it. Normally a couple of days is all I need to digest a volume and start to make connections that I hadn't noticed straight away. This time, however, despite being trapped in 200-odd pages of firmly printed text, I'm finding this tale as enigmatic and hard to pin down as any vampire.

`Interview with the Vampire' begins with the brilliant conceit of a young man tape-recording an interview with Louis, a two-hundred year old vampire. Louis tells the story of his life and loves, starting in New Orleans with how he met and was transformed by the self-serving Lestat. Tormented by his inherent evil but driven by his hunger for human blood, Louis attacks a young girl, Claudia, in the back streets of the city. In a complex act of cruelty and desperation, Lestat also makes Claudia a vampire, establishing the characters as the strangest of families. The story explores the relationships that these three vampires have with each other and with themselves, visiting some very dark places and sometimes taking the reader to places they never sought to go.

I neither liked nor disliked this book, but I was certainly intrigued by it. Louis philosophical ponderings on what being a vampire means offered a genuinely different perspective on a myth that permeates modern culture. However, I can see why it has retained its cult status in the last 40 years. The more brutal, visceral and sexual aspects of the vampire's existence, along with the subtle hints at what could be construed as paedophilia, could be alienating for some audiences. For me, they just sat awkwardly with what I found newer and more interesting, the more thoughtful start to the book. It's probably important however that we don't forget that vampires are supposed to be human predators rather than the damaged pretty boys so often seen on screen today.

Overall, although I'm not sure I would recommend this novel to anyone, it captured my interest enough to make me want to read the sequel, `The Vampire Lestat'. Hopefully this will be less ambiguous than its predecessor.

'Dear George and Other Stories' by Helen Simpson

I `discovered' Helen Simpson a few weeks ago when one of her short stories appeared in the Guardian magazine. It so completely blew me away that I immediately started to track down her other books and stories.

`Dear George' is a collection of short stories which explore various themes including pregnancy, child rearing and family discord, mainly from the female perspective. There is a petulant teenager who is caught out by an act of kindness, a desperate and overdue pregnant woman, a mother who finds family life to be unlike she expected and a nasty surprise for a authoritarian father on Christmas day.

There is a strange magic to these stories. Simpson deftly waves her pen and creates relationships and situations which are both realistic and recognisable, but without the reams of prose required by many authors. It's refreshing and fascinating, but above all it's a joy to find someone who creates real female characters facing everyday situations and frustrations. None of your neurotic Bridget Joneses or wan Cinderellas here! I would thoroughly recommend this book to any woman reader and probably a few men too. We need more of this sort of insight on our book shelves.

The Mad Flappers' Cocktail Party

I've just finished reading 'The Great Gatsby' by F. Scott Fitzgerald and my mind has been buzzing ever since.  Mainly with '80s pop songs which somehow relate to the plot ('Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies...'), but anyhoo...

Set in 1920s New York at the height of the crazy Jazz Age, 'The Great Gatsby' is a fable about obsession - obsession with money, status and decadent living.  Inspired by aspects of Fitzgerald's own life, the book is narrated by Nick Carraway, who moves to West Egg, Long Island, so he can work in the city.  At first he's intrigued by his enigmatic neighbour, the eponymous Jay Gatsby, but as the truth and lies of Gatsby's life begin to unravel and Carraway finds himself caught up in terrible events beyond his control, he rapidly realises things are not what they appeared.  Far from being a staid, sober, man-in-charge, Gatsby is in the thrall of of the flighty, upper class Daisy Buchanan, cousin to Carraway, inhabitant of the fashionable East Egg and wife to the brutish Tom.

'The Great Gatsby' by
F. Scott Fitzgerald
(Penguin Popular Classics,  1994)

I've read a few of Fitzgerald's short stories and absolutely love the way he describes and gets right into the heads of his characters.  His people are layered and their moods and morality change and shift, making them incredibly interesting.  I wasn't sure how this would translate to a novel, but I'm glad to say this feature of Fitzgerald's writing remains and is key to the story.

Much like its title character, this book is deceptive.  It's less than 200 pages long and has quite a ostensibly simple plot, but the more I've thought about it, the more I've realised how clever it is.  'The Great Gatsby' is often described as a classic of American literature, but don't let that put you off.  Far from deifying the 'American way', it actually breaks it down to a personal level and shows the harm the influence of a feckless, irresponsible upper class can do.  In an age of debt-inducing consumerism and all encompassing celebrity culture, this book's message still resonates today.

Overall, I would recommend this book.  It works on several levels - as a story, as a mystery, as a comment on society - and I think many readers would get a lot out of the experience.  For me, it's the continuation of what I hope will be a beautiful friendship and I hope to spend a lot more time on the couch following Fitzgerald into the consciousness of his characters in the future.