Automated Alice - Jeff Noon

Automated Alice is essentially Alice's Adventures in Wonderland in a cyberpunk universe. A little Victorian girl named Alice is bored with her humdrum existence, and is transported through a grandfather clock to the future, or at least to 1998, which was the future in 1996 when the novel was published. Once there she meets her Twin Twister, a life-size embodiment of her favourite doll Celia, who has been animated by an inventor and joins Alice on her quest to get home.

Alice is under suspicion for the famous Jigsaw Murders, in which the victims are found dismembered and stitched together in a nonsensical fashion. They are found with one jigsaw piece each, all of which are missing from Alice's jigsaw puzzle in the past. She and Celia decide that the only way to get home is to retrieve all of the missing puzzle pieces, while evading the clutches of the police.

In many ways Automated Alice feels like it ought to be a children's book – it's told in a matter-of-fact, childlike voice and even has wonderfully quirky full-page illustrations, as well as smaller doodles throughout. There are aspects, however, like the practical but detailed way in which the murder victims are described, that would be very much out of place in a children's book. Noon keeps the dreamlike feel of Carroll's original and applies it to his own, more modern universe found in Vurt and Pollen (and later Nymphomation) to create a very readable, but very unsettling, atmosphere.

The novel questions the boundaries of fantasy and reality in a way I'm sure Carroll would have approved of. Alice meets an authorial figure, Zenith O'Clock, who has a very existential conversation with her questioning whether she represents the Alice known in real life by Carroll, the Alice in the book he wrote, or another Alice entirely. A cameo appearance by Lewis Carroll himself increases the blurring of lines.

For those who have read Noon's other novels, Automated Alice offers some interesting theories about the background to the culture he's created which set Vurt, Pollen and Nymphomation in a different light.

Next up: The Masqueraders by Georgette Heyer

A Trail of Ink - Mel Starr

The third novel in the medieval mystery Hugh de Singleton series focuses on the mysterious theft of his friend John Wycliffe's entire collection of books. His investigations lead him to several different groups of possible suspects, and to multiple attempts on his life as he tries to uncover the truth and retrieve the books. At the same time, he must try to win his beloved Kate from the latest of her persistent suitors.

Like the previous novels, A Trail of Ink is so rich in detail, especially in little everyday things like food, clothes or furnishings. This gives a real depth to the story and makes it more than just a mystery set in the past. Starr blends intrigue, action and comedy together to create a very readable novel that really brings the period alive.

Next up: Automated Alice by Jeff Noon

Film adaptation: Gone Girl

I was curious as to how the film adaptation of Gone Girl would show the story, as adaptation of an unreliable narrator and a plot where time skips about I imagine would be quite a challenge. As it turns out, they simply followed it the same way the book does, and I think it works very well.

In terms of casting, Ben Affleck is exactly as I'd imagined Nick, and while Rosamund Pike didn't initially look the way I'd pictured Amy (personally I thought of her as paler and a natural blonde), she acted the part very convincingly. The film also does a great job of showing externally what in the book is a lot of internal monologue, without turning it into people talking to themselves.

While some parts are a little streamlined, for instance the flashbacks to Amy and Nick's early relationship, or Nick's part in the investigation of Amy's disappearance, we still get enough detail and depth to get the full impact of the plot. In particular though I did feel it was a shame that Amy's relationship with her parents was mostly missed out.

The development of both Nick and Amy's characters is very well shown throughout, and even knowing the ending from the book the plot is well-paced and gripping. Not a pleasant or relaxing film, but definitely worth watching.

Film adaptation: And Then There Were None

This 3-part BBC adaptation is one of the most faithful novel adaptations I've seen in a while, which I was glad about as Christie's plots are so carefully and intricately thought out that tinkering with them generally makes them less effective. There was a surprisingly star-studded cast considering it was something I'd seen no advertising for (or maybe it's been out there but I just haven't seen any), including Charles Dance, Aidan Turner and Miranda Richardson, as well as Burn Gorman (another, less well-known face from Game of Thrones) and Anna Maxwell Martin.

The scenery of the island was wonderfully bleak and atmospheric, with the intentional contrast of the modern mundanity of the house itself as effective as in the novel. Seeing it all visually for me accentuated the characters' gradual descent into a kind of stress-induced madness, especially, although it might sound odd, in the women. I hadn't really thought about it before, but it seems rare to see middle or upper class women in period dramas in any state other than well-dressed and composed, so seeing the convention of decent dress and presentation gradually break down was very interesting.

In terms of changes, the largest one perhaps was a change from the solution to the murders being a found manuscript in the book to a live confession in the series, which does make sense as being more dramatic and easier to show in visual media. The crimes committed by the 10 guests were also changed for the most part, in a way that made them feel more deliberate and in many cases more violent. My own feeling is that this wasn't strictly necessary, but perhaps it does make the viewer less sorry to see them die as they are more culpable themselves.

Another common alteration to period adaptations that often frustrates me is the addition of sex where it's absent in the book, and this did take place here. I didn't actually mind it, however (and not only because Aidan Turner is very nice to look at), because the characters in question did have a sense of chemistry in the book, and their acting on it in the adaptation served to accentuate the sense of social boundaries and rules breaking down.

I hope I haven't accidentally given spoilers to anyone who doesn't know the story, but I will say it's definitely worth watching, and also reading.

2015 Greatest Hits

Booking Through Thursday's New Year question (late again, I know) is:

What were your favorite books of 2015?
How many books did you read this year? Are you happy with the amount of reading you got done? Wish you’d had more time? (I know I always do!)

In 2015 I read 32 books, if you count those overlapping year boundaries. I do wish I'd read more, I always do.

In terms of favourites, I'll pick out some in chronological order:

A Corpse at St Andrew's Chapel by Mel Starr (read 12/02/2015-21/02/2015)
The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever by Stephen Donaldson (read 03/04/2015-10/05/2015)
Les Liaisons Dangerueses by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos (read 20/06/2015-15/08/2015)
Thank You, Jeeves by P G Wodehouse (read 10/10/2015-11/10/2015)
Nymphomation by Jeff Noon (read 12/10/2015-17/10/2015)

May 2016 bring some equally good reading!

Bonus review: And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie

I've had quite a few Agatha Christies on my bookshelf patiently waiting their turn to be read, but when I noticed the new BBC adaptation of And Then There Were None over the Christmas period I wanted to read the book before watching it.

The premise is pretty well-known: 10 people go to a house on an isolated island, and are killed one by one until they are all dead. In a foreword Christie herself comments on how challenging it was to think up a way to do this, and it really is a very clever and surprising solution.

This is one of the least cosy Christie novels I've read – usually the investigating figure, whoever they may be, is not personally involved in the murder and feels pretty safe in themselves. In And Then There Were None, however, the narrative viewpoint shifts between each of the characters as they become increasingly more aware of their own inevitable demise, which lends the story an unusually serious edge, more like a psychological horror than a comfortable murder-mystery.

The tone remains very grounded and British however, and Christie does a great job creating a variety of distinct but convincing narrative voices. In spite of the fact that they all have quite serious flaws, many of them are likable enough for me to have wished they didn't have to die.

One of Agatha Christie's best-known novels, and well worth a read.

Gifts

I realise I'm a little behind on this one, but this Christmas' Booking Through Thursday is:

What books are/were you hoping to get as gifts this holiday season?
Which books DID you get?
Are you happy, or did you rush right out to your local bookstore to pick up the book you’d hoped you’d be getting?

 
The books I got this Christmas are:

Cooking for Geeks by Jeff Potter (I had a copy of this previously when I lived in Canada but sadly had to leave it behind due to luggage weight limits)

Shadows of Self by Brandon Sanderson - the latest in the Mistborn series

A Trail of Ink by Mel Starr - the third in his Hugh de Singleton medieval mystery series

They were all from family and I'd specifically asked for each of them, which is how we usually do presents, so we all end up with something we actually want!


How about you, readers? Did you have a good book haul this Christmas?

Furiously Happy - Jenny Lawson

I only just remembered that I completely forgot to post a review for this book when I finished it last month! Normally I'm quite good, but I must have been pretty distracted at that point.

Furiously Happy is the second of Jenny Lawson's memoirs. The first, Let's Pretend This Never Happened, is more of your usual autobiography, i.e. an account of the author's life to date, although Jenny Lawson's life is far from average and much of it reads more like a surreal comedy than an autobiography.

Furiously Happy is more of a selection of anecdotes, vaguely arranged by theme. Lawson manages to make her experiences with mental illness hilarious, bizarre and often very touching at the same time. From travelling Australia in a kangaroo onesie to being chased down the road by swans (thinking about it, many of the stories are animal-related in some way, shape or form), Lawson's stories are unexpected and very original.

Of course the core theme of the book is at heart very serious. I'm sure everyone out there has times when they feel depressed, slightly unhinged or just plain wrong, even those who aren't diagnosed with any kind of mental illness, and Lawson's central message behind all of this is that you aren't alone in this.

This is a very candid, warm and open account of her own experiences, which is very funny in itself and behind the humour holds a complex and comforting message to the reader.

Next up: Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset

Bonus review: Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

As my other books at the moment are a bit on the long, heavy side, I took some time out to read Gone Girl to break things up a bit.

Nick and Amy Dunne, a recently out-of-work couple from New York, have moved to Nick's much smaller hometown of North Carthage, Missouri, where Nick opens a bar with his twin sister Go. One day he returns home to find his wife unexpectedly missing, and his life is suddenly invaded by police investigations and harassing media.

The story is told in chapters that alternate between Nick's present-day experiences and diary entries written by Amy, and through these a picture builds up of the couple's turbulent relationship beneath their appearance of public normality. Both are flawed individuals with moments (or more than moments) of narrative in which they are unlikable but at the same time very relatable, and the alternating accounts of events by Nick and Amy build up and then strip away layers of deception and conflict.

While I wouldn't necessarily have chosen this novel myself from the blurb (it came recommended and lent by someone at work), it was actually a fascinating and gripping read, and highly original and unexpected.

Gone Girl is definitely worth reading, even if, like me, you prefer more of a plot-based story – trust me, you won't be disappointed.

Next up: Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset

Audiobooks

This week's Booking Through Thursday is:

I’m guessing most of you like reading (or why would you be here), how do you feel about audio books? 

For me, “reading” means using my eyes, not my ears. As much as I acknowledge their usefulness while doing chores or using your hands, I only ever use audiobooks for the rare long drive–listening, no matter how pleasant, is not READING, yet people persist in telling me they like to read and that audio books are their favorites. Am I the only one to feel that’s just not the same thing?


I feel the same. I've tried to listen to audiobooks, on journeys for instance or when given a free one by Amazon, but for me it just isn't the same relaxing experience as reading. You can't let your mind wander in the middle of a paragraph without having to try and desperately rewind and figure out where you left off, and the story moves either too slowly or too quickly, never at the right pace. It's a similarly soulless experience to Kindles, except with the added disadvantage of needing to pause or rewind every time you get interrupted or distracted.

I completely acknowledge that they're useful, for driving or while doing other things, but for me they lack that feeling of connecting and of shared understanding that makes a book worth reading.

Nostalgia

This week's Booking Through Thursday is:

What book (or books) from your childhood do you think about most often? That had the most effect on your life? 

I devoured books even as a child, but the ones that I really reread and took in most were Terry Pratchett's wonderful Discworld series. I read the lot (and the new ones as and when they came out) several times over, in chronological order, or sorted by character groups, and so on.

I also really loved Jane Austen's novels, particularly Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion. George Eliot's Middlemarch was another one - it was my gran's favourite book, and she gave me her own copy before she died. The variety of characters and the depth and complexity of their feelings and situations kept me coming back to reread it.

Film adaptation - Dangerous Liaisons (1988)

I eventually got round to watching the second of the three Dangerous Liaisons adaptations, this one taking the title from the book and released in 1988. It had a surprisingly star-studded cast, with a young John Malkovich playing Valmont, opposite Glenn Close, Michelle Pfeiffer and Uma Thurman as his various love interests.

Although the peasant village that was shown briefly did have a very rough, clumsy feel and the peasants were suspiciously clean by modern, gritty standards, in general it felt as though a lot of effort was made with historical accuracy, with the style of dress, furnishings and hair. One thing that did jar with me was the American accents – I know that, with the original being in French and the novel set in France, even an RP English accent would have been 'wrong', but I guess I'm just so used to period dramas using English accents that it seemed odd. A younger Peter Capaldi with long hair and his strong Scottish accent as a servant was totally worth it though.

The quality of the acting was wonderful (except perhaps from Keanu Reeves, but I didn't expect him to be able to move his face much back then either), and the emotional intensity, particularly between Malkovich and Close, kept me glued to the screen. I particularly liked that this adaptation, while recognising that the Marquise de Merteuil is a very selfish and manipulative character, also gave us a chance to empathise with her rather than demonising her in the way that Cruel Intentions does.

Overall, a very enjoyable and pretty accurate period adaptation.

Lullaby - Chuck Palahniuk

Reporter Carl Streator has been assigned to investigating Sudden Infant Death Syndrome for his newspaper, and notices a pattern in all the scenes he's been called to see. At every single one of them, a poetry anthology is, or has been, open at page 27 on an old African culling song. To confirm this theory, he reads the poem to his editor, who fails to come in to work the following day. However, we discover that this is also a very personal quest for Streator – he accidentally caused the death of his own wife and child 20 years earlier by reading them the very same poem.

Occult real estate agent Helen Hoover Boyle (who specialises in selling haunted houses and profiting by the frequent sales commissions as clients are keen to get rid of them again very quickly), has come to the same conclusion as Streator through her own investigations. The pair, along with Helen's secretary Mona and Mona's hippie boyfriend Oyster, race to destroy the remaining 200 copies of a limited edition print, before the poem becomes public knowledge.

Lullaby is at once disturbing, gripping and surprisingly funny in a bizarre, cynical kind of way. Palahniuk explores the different temptations for people with an inhuman power, the power to kill anyone they want to, instantly, with no more than a thought or a few words. How it changes the characters and the ways they cope with it forms a fascinating part of the story.

The brusque, matter-of-fact narrative tone lends a poignancy to grief, and a sense of detachment to several rather gory scenes, and the characters are colourful and eccentric in a manner more usually found in comedic novels.

Lullaby is a fascinating, dark but sometimes very funny exploration of the power of language and of the corruption of power. Very much worth reading, and I can guarantee you'll never have read anything like it before.

Next up: Furiously Happy by Jenny Lawson

Damage

This week's Booking Through Thursday is:

Have you ever damaged a book? Dropped it in the bathtub? Spilled a bottle of ink? Used it to mop up spilled wine? Or just broken its back (poor thing).

 Never on purpose! I have spilled water on books a few times, and felt terrible about it while it dried out all crinkly over a radiator. I've spilled food on them a couple of times too, leaving unfortunate food stains on the pages.

I hate seeing them damaged, even newer books, although it's really heartbreaking to see a wonderful old book that's survive 100 years intact get hurt. I have to avert my eyes when I pass shops that use pages from old books or sheet music.

The Rose Rent - Ellis Peters

The thirteenth Cadfael novel, The Rose Rent, is a little bit more than a detective story. Young widow Judith Perle, who rents property to the abbey for the token price of a single rose delivered on the same day once every year, goes missing a couple of days before this rent is due, following the mysterious near-destruction of the rose bush in question. As the sheriff and the abbey are well aware, failed payment of this rent, would legally result in the property defaulting back to Mistress Perle, and puts suspicion on some of her would-be suitors would might aspire to own it themselves.

Ellis Peters uses more of an open style of narration than usual in this novel, and we see events from a diverse range of points of view. With an ingenuity worthy of Agatha Christie, this is cleverly used to hide facts in plain sight and to bring about a genuinely surprising ending.

The main point of this novel, for me, wasn't simply solving the original murder of a young monk found dead after defending the unlucky rose bush. It was more an exploration of grief and love, seeing the young widow begin to stop mourning her first husband and starting to move on with her life, and we see a wide selection of suitors each with their own agenda, all eager to marry into the prosperous business Judith has inherited.

Overall this novel felt more sophisticated as a plot than many of the preceding ones, and had an emotional complexity that really made it come alive.

Next up: Lullaby by Chuck Palahniuk

Nymphomation - Jeff Noon

Nymphomation is Jeff Noon's fourth novel, and acts as a prequel to Vurt and then Pollen.

Set in 1999 Manchester, it offers a futuristic alternative view of a familiar unglamorous city, in which a trial lottery game called Domino Bones is being held. Along with the weekly domino draws, in which only one person can win the grand prize, AnnoDomino have created flying advertisements which buzz around the city, interbreeding and multiplying. As the city's obsession with with Domino Bones grows, a group of rogue mathematicians suspect that the game is not what it seems and try to break into the system.

Noon tells the story in quick scenes, sometimes no more than snapshots, that tell us almost enough but never too much, and keep you reading as you try to discover more. The characters and setting are drawn briefly but effectively, often using random-seeming and exaggerated language that lends the novel a lurid, unreal quality. Mathematics and the science of chance are blurred with fantasy to form an intriguing universe in which anything is possible.

This novel is a very human experience of something inhuman, while also managing to be extremely thought-provoking and at times sinister and unnerving. At first I didn't realise it linked up to the other books in the series, and by the end it had set the scene for the development into Vurt and made me want to reread that with fresh eyes again.

There's only one I haven't yet read in the series, Automated Alice, and I'll definitely be asking for that for Christmas.

Next up: The Rose Rent by Ellis Peters

Thank You, Jeeves - PG Wodehouse

This is the first of Wodehouse's novels to feature the wonderful Jeeves, and the first that I've read, although I have watched the Jeeves and Wooster TV series many many times. Usually I'd say that watching an adaptation before reading the book spoiled it for me a little, but Steven Fry, Hugh Laurie and the mood of the production as a whole captured the feel of the characters and the story so perfectly that I didn't mind seeing them play it out in my head as I read.

Bertie Wooster's new musical instrument, the banjolele, drives him by popular complaint from his London flat to a country cottage on his friend Chuffy's seaside estate, and also forces Jeeves to give notice, who is promptly rehired by Chuffy himself. Bertie's peaceful country retirement is shattered by the arrival of his beautiful, charming and unregretted American ex-fiancée Pauline Stoker and her disapproving father, and an amusing sequence of evasions, misunderstandings and reconciliations follows.

Bertie's amiable but vaguely bemused viewpoint gives humour to every scene, for instance one in which he and Pauline are (through a completely innocent if highly unfeasible set of circumstances) about to be discovered alone together in his bedroom, she wearing his pyjamas, begin to argue about the niceties of grammar rather than the problem at hand.

Some of the events in the novel were moved around or taken out to shorten it a little for the adaptation, so even having seen the episode I wasn't sure what was going to happen next. Unusually, I don't feel as though the changes necessarily made the story worse, or better for that matter – it was just a case of reaching the same conclusion through slightly fewer stages. There were a few very funny scenes which sadly weren't kept in, though. One confusing factor, given that this is the first Jeeves novel written, was the casual references to other characters and amusing anecdotes that I'd already seen in the TV series but obviously hadn't in the books.

I laughed frequently throughout the novel, and sometimes worried about waking people up in the next room when I was reading in bed. Having read this I'm definitely going to look out for the rest of the series.

Next up: Nymphomation by Jeff Noon

Bridget Jones' Diary - Helen Fielding

I've read Bridget Jones' Diary several times before, but that was many years ago, so when I found the French translation in a bookshop in Brittany I had to pick it up. It made for much more relaxing holiday reading than the rather heavier L'Allée du Roi I'd brought with me, and I can actually claim it was vaguely educational, teaching me words for everyday things like types of modern clothing, cigarettes (ok, that one's the same) and minor swearwords, all things not often featured in more classic novels.

The translation felt pretty spot-on, keeping the tone of the original novel very well in spite of its cultural Zeitgeists, although it did have resort to footnotes to explain things such as Eastenders or Michael Howard.

One of the things I love most about this novel (as well as the plot, which as everyone knows is based on Pride and Prejudice, so not totally original to Fielding), is the down-to-earth narrator. Published nearly 10 years ago (and how old does that make me feel!), I have yet to come across another novel that feels quite as real. Nothing about Bridget is romanticised – she's no more glamorous, successful, strong or determined that your average woman, but Fielding doesn't use Stephanie Meyer's irritating wish-fulfilment trick of having the whole world fall in love with her supposedly 'average' heroine. Instead Bridget struggles vaguely through life without things falling into her lap, and not only do we as readers see the external parts of her experience - her conversations with others, dramatic scenes and so on - but we are also privy to the general grime and disorder of everyday life. For me this makes it so much more personal and relatable than reading about protagonists who never have to go to the bathroom or wash their clothes.

Of course Bridget Jones' Diary is, at heart, a romantic story, but the focus is very much on a humorous retelling of the problems and anxieties of romance rather than being swept off your feet by a prince charming. The film is a little different from the book, having switched events round and cut a few characters out to streamline the story, and I do have a friend who said this put her off reading the book afterwards, but I really recommend it personally if you're a fan of the film but haven't yet read the book.

Next up: Thank You, Jeeves by P G Wodehouse

Austen vs Pope

This week's Booking Through Thursday is:

What two authors (dead or alive) would you love to get in a room together, just so you could listen to the conversation?

And what made you put those two together? Are they going to be entertainingly contentious or bosom buddies at first sight?

For me it would have to be Alexander Pope and Jane Austen. Alexander Pope's serious, self-satisfied attitude and pretentiously over-educated poetry would be a fantastic subject for Austen's quick wit, and the fact that a woman had the gall to make fun of him would (I like to think) throw Pope into an extremely entertaining tantrum.

Who would you put together?

Bonus review: The Shepherd's Crown - Terry Pratchett

This afternoon I took Terry Pratchett's last novel, The Shepherd's Crown, to a café (accidentally buying 3 more books on my way into town), and finished it in 3 hours.

This novel follows Tiffany Aching as she comes into her own as a professional witch and has to face up to the increase in responsibility that entails, as well as another threat of elven invasion.

I don't want to give spoilers to anyone who hasn't read it, but I will say there's a major character death, which feels so autobiographical, almost as though it's Pratchett's own goodbye to the world, that it really was very moving above and beyond its implications for the character within the novel.

The Shepherd's Crown is full of a joy of life and an optimism about human nature, with laugh-out-loud moments and some truly wonderful awful puns. It feels much better put-together than a few of his later works, which for me felt as though they were lacking in structure, whereas this one feels like one complete story in its own right. There are a few loose ends, which is unsurprising for a posthumous publication, but overall it was a fantastic read, a good balance of plot, humour and pathos.

Now that I've finished it it's occurred to me that I'll never again be able to read a new Pratchett novel, and that makes me very sad indeed.

Next up: Bridget Jones' Diary by Helen Fielding