Sunday, 24 May 2009
'In the Kitchen' by Monica Ali
Not having read Monica Ali's 'Brick Lane', I wondered to myself before opening 'In the Kitchen': what if I don't like it? Will I keep on delaying reading 'Brick Lane' for another two years? Unfortunately, the answer to this question is probably 'yes'.
'In the Kitchen' tells the story of a Gabriel Lightfoot (Gabe), the head chef at the Imperial Hotel in London. Gabe is essentially going through a mid-life crisis. He is having problems at work where he presides over a group of challenging employees. His relationship with his girlfriend, Charlie, is reaching the point where he is debating whether to ask her to marry him or not. His Father is suffering from an illness that requires him to leave behind London and go and be a source of comfort for his family in difficult times. In the long-term, Gabe wants to open up his own restaurant. In order to finance this he has gotten into bed with a soon to be ex-minister of the government and another financier.
The first criticism that I have of 'In the Kitchen' is the way that the story begins and ends. This is essentially with the death of Yuri, a Ukrainian porter at the Imperial Hotel. The death happens under curious circumstances and is therefore investigated by the police but aside from this, I am unsure what the death really adds to the story. A possible answer is that it brings Lena into Gabe's life. Lena is an eastern European girl living illegally in the UK who is connected in some way to the death of Yuri. Now in order for Gabe to get to the bottom of how Lena is connected with the death of Yuri, he apparently has to invite Lena to stay at his home. Not only that, he then embarks on a thoroughly inappropriate relationship with her whilst being deceptive towards her. Whilst at the time I had no idea where Ali was going with all this: should we judge Gabe immediately and have done with it or should we see how things continue to play out? I did opt for sticking with it and seeing it through to the end. I did hope this would prove to be worthwhile but mostly I just got what I expected and nothing more.
The foundations of a great novel are clearly visible if, like me, you are interested in contemporary novels in which the challenges faced by engaging characters are dissected along with the connected social issues involved. To be successful, though, the story and the message which is tries to get across must be well integrated. It is here where Ali, in my opinion, fails. There is no such integration; in fact, there are long sections of the novel where what the characters are saying are in fact a diatribe by the author. All the current pressing social and political issues are included in different parts. 'In the Kitchen' is a credit-crunch novel; there is the token career politician who is planning his next move after his term in Parliament ends; and of course there is a spectrum of views on immigration. It is also telling that, on all of these issues - and even after supposedly being in Gabe's head for over 400 pages - we still don't know what he thinks about each of them. There is simply no colour in him. I think the bland cover of the novel is quite telling of just how little 'well-roundedness' is on display in the novel. Especially when you compare it to the very memorable front cover of 'Brick Lane' and the colours in the title.
Despite all this, I still believe that it could be included in this year's Booker long-list. When I think of the sort of novel that could be there, I can picture an author like Ali and novel like 'In the Kitchen' being included. Being a deserving winner, however, is another matter. For that the author must surely have had to aim for perfection and in this case, I think that could reasonably be doubted.
Monday, 23 March 2009
'The Black Rock' by Amanda Smyth
Celia lives with her Aunt Tassi in Black Rock in Tobago. She grows up knowing very little about her parents. Her mother, she is told, died giving birth to her and her father, lives in England and he has never visited her. At the beginning of the novel Celia has two aims: to visit her Father in England and to make something of her life. Her school teacher, Miss McCartney, tells her: ‘You can be anything you want to be. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.’ Here enters someone who does tell her different – Roman Bartholomew who is her Aunt Tassi’s second husband. Roman rapes Celia and this causes her to flee from the Black Rock with the intent to visit her Aunt Sula. Whilst on her travels she meets William who takes an instant liking to her. Celia accepts his offer of temporary shelter at a house that he shares with his mother and brother, Solomon. Try as he does, William doesn’t get any where romantically with Celia. Instead, after agreeing to work as a maid at a local family’s house, she falls involve with the head of the family, Dr Emmanuel Rodriguez. From this point onwards the narrative gets really interesting. What is going to become of this relationship and how is this going to affect Celia are two questions at the front of the reader’s mind. Something that I began to consider two-thirds of the way through the novel is just how much of Celia’s troubles would have been avoided if she had grown up with loving parents? And then – and this was the best part for me – there are certain revelations which turn everything that I was thinking on its head. These were completely unexpected by me and, of course, so much more appreciated.
The inside cover of the novel describes Smyth’s writing as having a ‘vivid sense of the supernatural’. I have to say when I began the novel I didn’t expect this to interest me especially. Throughout the novel, it is through supernatural references that Smyth warns us that something bad is going to happen in Celia’s life. Here’s an example during a period when Celia is living with her Aunt who is seriously ill:
Later, a small brown bird flew into the house. It perched for a moment on the gramophone, then it flew to the window and settled on the ledge. It had yellow
eyes. It seemed to look right at me; and it wasn’t at all afraid. I wondered if it was a sign that my aunt would soon die.
I’m not sure I really cared for these supernatural references which just seemed to be added at particularly bleak occasions in Celia’s life without good reason. However, looking back on the novel now, these sorts of references seem more worthwhile when considering all the different places that Celia goes and the events that unfold there. In fact, it’s a way of remembering the place where Celia came from, Black Rock and the things she learnt there whilst with her Aunt Tassi. This is evident towards the end of the novel – when Celia is more mature – and she avoids eating a bowl of soup prepared by someone who doesn’t care for her that much:
Mrs Shamiel served corn soup for dinner. There were dumplings in between bits of meat and bone in the yellow liquid. I didn’t want to eat it, there was something about the soup that tasted odd. I remembered Aunt Tassi telling me how some people put human bones in their soups to make unwanted guests very sick.
In short, I thoroughly recommend this novel which remarkably is from a debut novelist. It does reward close reading and the plot does come together very nicely at the end. If you are a reader who is attracted by a writer’s ability to set a scene thoughtfully and tell a story beautifully, then this novel belongs on your To Be Read list.
Monday, 16 March 2009
'The Night Climbers' by Ivo Stourton
As the term progressed, the old Francis showed himself less and less, and was replaced by a man with glassy eyes and unpredictable moods. Our problems grew as even Lisa's faultless management of the Cambridge system showed the strain of
his behaviour....He was breaking windows, vomiting in courts, swearing at the porters, fucking girls in the shadows of the colonnade by the staircase. Lisa kept supplying him with essays, but he simply did not bother to hand them in, and if he went to supervisions at all he turned up drunk. He was coming close to being set down.
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
'An Equal Stillness' by Francesca Kay
She will never paint them; she knows that at the time, they are not gathered together for a portrait but for a transaction of another kind. Still, the painter in her narrows her gaze, squints to get the scene and its purpose into vision. With her painter's eyes she strips fold on fold of fabric off the men to assess the underlying structure.
The other is how Kay sets a scene using colour. Here's a taster:
Ice. Not the deep Antarctic sort, crystalline, blue-tinged, but thin ice, nothing much more than a membrane separating the water from the air. Ice that comes so suddenly it seems to seize the moment - arresting on the seashore a wave just on the point of curl, imprisoning the rising bubbles in a mountain tarn. How to show that thinness, the colourlessness full of colour, the way that ice in sunshine is both mirror and source of light? White light. Purity and danger.
I was somewhat overwhelmed that Kay managed to maintain such a high standards of writing right the way down to the last sentence of the novel. The book certainly rewards careful reading. I found myself quietly celebrating at several points in the novel. Towards the end events start happening very quickly. Several characters die systematically and there is a sort of revision (or, to put it more crudely, a repeat) of events that have already happened. However, its also at this point, that the narrator ever so slightly comes to life with the reminder that this is a biography. Perhaps, therefore, it would be wrong to criticise Kay for this sudden change in pace.
Saturday, 28 February 2009
'Days of Grace' by Catherine Hall
This is the first novel by Catherine Hall and one of the titles on Waterstones' New Voices for 2009. I managed to read the novel, which is just under 300 pages, very quickly because I found it impossible to put down. If this is a taster of what the other novels by the New Voices will be like then I've got a great time ahead of me.
The novel tells the story of Nora and Grace who are teenagers when WWII begins. Nora is an evacuee from London who gets sent to live with the Rivers family in the Kent countryside. Grace is the daughter of Rivers family that takes Nora in. The novel moves between different time periods: during the war and after the war. For the period after the war, the story centres around Nora's relationships with a neighbour, Rose.
Nora and Grace strike up a friendship that is a product of the times they are living in and the people they come into contact with. This leads to unbearable consequences for both of them.
Grace is more adventurous than Nora; however, both would like nothing more than just to be in each other's company and enjoy themselves without fear. Throughout the novel they try to find a place that they both could call home but this becomes increasingly impossible to do.
Various themes run throughout the novel: faith, secrets and fear being the important ones. Nora was brought up a Roman Catholic and continuously feels that all the bad things that happen around her are a result of losing faith in her God. Secrets are abound in the Days of Grace. The Rivers' family, with whom Nora comes to stay, aren't all as pure as they seem. Strong feelings of love are hidden where it is hoped that time would make them reciprocal. Fear is never far from being felt. When its not the sirens going off signalling the next bombing raid, its the sense of what other challenges will tomorrow bring and will Nora and Grace be able to overcome them.
What makes the novel great is the way the author absorbs the reader into the plot. This is done through two principal ways: the structure of the novel (moving through different time periods) and the perfect description of the settings and what the characters are feeling. The structure allows for careful revelations of details and the descriptiveness makes the events more memorable.
I would be hard pressed to find fault with Days of Grace. What I would say, though, is that a lot of events happen in the novel that have a huge impact on the characters. Now, whilst their feelings are well detailed, I would have liked more meaning to have come out of it. This isn't really a criticism at all though as, on reflection, there is a quote by William Blake at the beginning of the novel which embodies all the meaning itself.