Pure by Andrew Miller

This is not so much a review as a brief rave about how brilliant and beautiful I think this book is. Pure is my favourite read this year so far. For me, it was one of those books that you wait and hope to come across, that makes you realise how incredible writing and language and books can be.

I have read some reviews that expressed slight criticism because Pure isn't really big on plot or narrative drive. For me, this didn't even factor. I was so immersed and intrigued in the world Andrew Miller created, and so taken in by his beautiful writing, that I kept returning to the book at every available moment.

There is simplicity here, but also gorgeous, breathtaking descriptions and reflections. Yes, the book does pretty much cover the methodical destruction of Les Innocents, but it is so fascinating. And without anything of great distinction actually happening, a palpable sense of dread and atmosphere builds and builds. This book is earthy but at the same time has a refined elegance. It is humane, with the large and small fallibilities and fancies of people laid out effortlessly on the page. It has a lovely optimism while still retaining an authentic feeling of despair and disillusion.

The historical detail, the philosophy, is there, but it is all mixed into a much greater idea that concerns the workings of the human soul. The ordinary is made beautiful and alive.

This is literary writing at its loveliest. I thought Pure was dazzling and I was utterly enchanted by it.

Past the Shallows, by Favel Parrett

First published by Hachette in 2011

Parrett’s debut novel is as beautiful and as raw as the wild coast of Tasmania’s south. It is very simple but in this simplicity there is great power, where what is not said wreaks its quiet devastation on both the reader and the two little boys who we follow through the pages. These two boys, Miles and Harry, are what carry the book, and Parrett explores their bond with writing that is affectionate and touching and ultimately heartbreaking by the novel’s conclusion.

Three brothers, Joe, Miles and Harry, are growing up in one of the isolated coastal towns Tasmania does so well. Joe, almost out of his teens and old enough to move out of home, is restless and want to move away, to get on with his life, to find something more. Miles feels the stirrings of similar feelings but is stuck looking after the youngest brother Harry, a slightly odd but endearing little boy who everyone seems to love – everyone except his own father. Their father, an abalone diver, is a bitter man, warped by devastating secrets and the death of his wife years earlier. The boys must learn to watch out for his cruel tempers but above all, watch out for each other.

This is basically what Past the Shallows is about – the day to day lives of these boys, the frustration of small-town life, the joy of small treasures – good surf; warm Milo; the cold, loving nose of a kelpie pup pressed into your palm. Finding twenty dollars at the Show and spending it all on lollies. Snuggling under the doona right next to a warm fire. Having a big brother who you love and adore and who you feel safe with. The childhood of these two boys is told with great understanding and warmth and so when we cast our adult eye upon their world and see all the harsh, stark realities of it, and of this fractured family unit, we cannot help but feel and fear for them.

I appreciated Parrett's gentle descriptions of the Tasmanian landscape and weather and her distinctive writing style - it is unassuming and lacks trickery but is still an absolute pleasure to read. This is a book that will sink into your skin and sweep you away. It has great emotional pull and a distinctive voice. It broke my heart a little bit. You will not forget Miles, Joe and Harry.

*This review also originally published at CAE Book Groups in a shortened format

Me and Mr Booker by Cory Taylor

This edition published by Text in 2011.

 STORY

Sixteen-year-old Martha meets Mr and Mrs Booker when her mother throws a party. The Bookers are young, British, eccentric and just a little bit glamorous. Martha is stuck in a going-nowhere town and not really sure what she wants to do with her life. All she knows is that she must get out, away from her crazy father Victor and her well-intentioned if submissive mother. And then Mr Booker kisses her. What happens next feels like it could just be the beginning of the rest of her life.

BACKGROUND

Yes, it is a coming-of-age story and an old idea, but it works. Me and Mr Booker reads very much like a young adult novel pace-wise, but the content is a bit risque for a YA audience. There is a kind of knowingness to Me and Mr Booker which, for me, places it in the realm of adult fiction. When I first started reading it reminded me so much of An Education (which I loved), but there is such a unique voice at work here, such a sly, wry, affectionate look into the turmoil of adolesence and burgeoning adulthood. Me and Mr Booker achieves such a perfect mix of cheekiness and poignancy that above all feels completely natural and authentic – I loved the tone of the book.

CHARACTERS

All the characters in this book spring from a kind of inner unease, a quiet despair over that age old question ‘how are we to live?’ Forgive me for using that kind of cliche (bleh!) but I think it is really suitable here. The characters are a study in being bored and lonely but without really the means or desire to be anything but. These people are trying to fill their lives with something that gives it meaning, so we get Mrs Booker wanting a baby, Mr Booker and his alcohol, Victor pursuing a dead-end relationship with Martha’s mother because he’s chasing an idea about what will make him happy, because it is at least something to have as his. And then we get Martha and her Mr Booker.

These two are really as hopeless as each other but I found it hard to do anything but love and sympathise with them. Mr Booker rarely shows anything but a facade of himself; everything is theatrical, designed to gloss over what’s really going on underneath. This makes him a wonderfully fascinating and flawed character.Very sparingly Taylor lets us take a peek into what depth might be underneath Mr Booker’s charm and we understand why ‘he to the hill of his undoing pursued his road.’ As seen through Martha’s eyes,  his relationship with Mrs Booker is also a wonderful, touching example of the blind leading the blind, or as I like to think of it, affectionate hate.

And then Martha – absolutely loved her. She has some great lines. I read elsewhere that she was perhaps written too old for her age, but I think she is spot on, and her sarcasm is exactly like I remember talking as a teen. Martha’s voice is wrought with adolescent troubles, but Taylor keeps her wry and smart and in control all the time. She really carries the book – we understand that she is trying to avoid ending up in the same place as her own parents. I absolutely believed her and all the other characters and their motivations.

LANGUAGE

Sharply observed, fast-paced and funny, with some great lines and dialogue. The writing is simple and elegant and you get caught up in it because you know that despite this simplicity and matter-of-fact tone there is a whole lot of other stuff going on underneath. Seriously, some of Mr Booker’s and Martha’s lines are just so spot on and hilarious. And Taylor also has some prose moments that are just beautiful, hitting the right emotion without any need of flowery sentiment.

IN CONCLUSION

I thought Me and Mr Booker was wonderful – although suitable more for adults and mature YA readers. Smart, funny and sad, and one of the best coming-of-age titles I’ve read in a while. It also reminds us that yes, Martha may be a teen in way out of her depth, but who really is to blame when all around her the adults are acting like kids?

Tinkers, Sydney Bridge Upside Down & 2011 Book Design Awards

In addition to my own blog reviews, I also, through work, do some reviewing of adult fiction books. And I’ve read a couple of amazing ones this past month.

The first was David Ballantyne’s Sydney Bridge Upside Down, a seemingly forgotten ‘New Zealand classic’ that has recently been republished/printed by Text. Just gorgeous – atmospheric, gothic, nostalgic, disturbing, enthralling, well-written; all those things I read it would be. Will get around to publishing a link to my review when it’s published but if you can, in the meantime, get a hold of this book, then it will be well worth your time, especially because it is very nearly YA fiction.

The second was 2010 Pulitzer Prize winning Tinkers, by Paul Harding. The writing isn’t for everyone, but I found it to be a remarkable, ethereal read. So perceptive, such exquisite ways of capturing the transitory moments that leave their mark on our lives forever. There will sometimes be moments in movies when I just want to sob and sob because what I see is so stunning, so perfectly captured, so beautifully tragic that I just ache because I know life can never be like that. It was a similar experience with this book – there is such a perfect mix of tragedy and beauty and hope. I want to cry because Harding has captured, in such delicious prose, the moments where we almost think we can see beyond the here and now, beyond the physical body that holds us to this life. Absolutely loved it.

Other literary news that caught my eye this week is the shortlist for the 2011 Australian Book Design Awards. The full list, incuding the YA and Children’s categories, can be found by following the links here:
http://www.publishers.asn.au/

Dark Matter, by Michelle Paver

Published in 2010, by Orion



I love a good horror story – I love that creepy dread-inducing feeling, that idea that something is not quite right. Ghosts are fascinating because there is a whole other story going on away from their haunting of a person or place – why are they haunting it, what happened, is it malignant or just wanting help, how much can it intrude into the present? So I picked up Dark Matter because it looked like a fun scary read, and a nice change from my usual young adult and kids fare.

Jack is in his late twenties – poor, lonely and desperate to change his life. He is offered the chance to be a wireless operator on an Arctic expedition with four others, and leaves a London threatened by war to spend a year at a base in Gruhuken, in remote Norway. At first he is delighted to be useful, away from his stuffy, dead-end life in London, but as, one by one, his companions are all forced to leave, Jack begins to doubt his commitment to staying. Living in permanent polar night, he lives in fear of the sea freezing over, making return and escape impossible. And something is watching him, in the snow – something that oozes malignance. Imagination or reality? Is Jack really alone?

The setting of this book, Gruhuken, is stunning in its untouched isolation, its harshness, its complete submission to the natural world. Paver describes it with astute observation. Her prose is not showy or of astounding beauty – but the world she’s describing is beautiful enough on its own. The darkness, the rare moments of light, the fog, the dark water, the ice caps – they all come alive in Paver’s prose and you can feel Jack’s wonder as he witnesses what it is like to step into this world.

Dark Matter is told in diary entries, something I’m not usually a fan of. It works well here, but it could have been told in normal first person present or past to the same effect. I guess what the diary entries do is emphasise the elements of time and isolation. When you are alone and waiting for someone or something, time can have a good old play around with your mind. And as Jack is alone and his story quite a personal one, the diary-style captures well what he is going through.

I wouldn’t say this story is particularly scary, either psychologically or physically. But I had a great time reading it. For what it is, it works. It does perfectly the is there/isn’t there mood and the feel of being stuck, alone, in this hostile white wilderness and wondering whether you are going to last. I love a good faithful-dog sub-plot, and the one with Isaak added a much-needed emotional grounding. It provided warmth, and at least one other character whose survival we invested in (because obviously, as its Jack’s diary, we know he’s going to last at least through to the end). I also found the rituals that occupied Jack’s day quite fascinating, the every little thing he needed to do to retain normality and ensure that he beat the cold and the environment. It feels real.

Dark Matter won’t have you trembling under your covers. But it is a well told story, with just enough uh-oh moments to keep you turning the pages to the end.

"Moving closer to the edge, I peered down. The water was glassy green, extraordinarily clear. I experienced the feeling I sometimes get when I'm on a bridge or a railway platform. Rationally, you know that you've no intention of stepping off ... but you're aware that you could, and that the only thing stopping you is your will."