What the Day Owes the Night

After reading Camus and realising that he represented slightly Westernised views on Algeria, I really wanted to read novels by Algerian authors who showed the other side of the coin; the true, genuine North African side. I found what I was looking for in Yasmina Khadra (pen name of Algerian author Mohammed Moulessehoul). What the Day Owes the Night is a wonderful, easy to read novel about one of the most traumatic events in Algeria's history; the War of Independence.

Khadra is able to successfully weave this historical undercurrent throughout the main narrative. He uses his main character, Younes, to show readers the reality of the events during the Algerian War of Independence. Younes' relationships with his friends and other characters in the novel fully illustrate the turmoil of the times.

Younes, however, is rather difficult to love, as a main character. He is incredibly passive and he's more than happy to just allow things to happen. This becomes extremely irritating all the way through the novel because you constantly want to shake him and scream at him to take charge of his own destiny, to change things if he's not happy about them, to speak up. But he doesn't. Even though Younes is, undeniably, annoying, I cannot deny that Khadra does a great job in the characterisation and setting description department. He makes it very easy for you to imagine the slums of the city of Oran and the beautiful, middle class, country town of Rio Salado. His other characters are fleshed out, each one fully embodying their persona and either being someone you root for, or someone you grow to detest.

I enjoyed reading this novel, even though large parts of it frustrated me. I feel that, in some way, that's the main point Khadra is trying to convey; frustration. The Arabs are frustrated with the French regime, with their poverty, with their lack of power and control in their own country. The French are frustrated with watching the Algeria they know and love crumble all around them, with being forced out of a country they call home, with losing their power and control in a country filled with political turmoil.

Khadra has opened a door into the literature of a country that forms a large part of my identity. What the Day Owes the Night really gave me more of a personal insight into how significant the Algerian War of Independence was, for ethnic Algerians and French colonisers alike. And for me, this was the most important thing I gained from this reading experience.

Exploring the World from the Comfort of your Own Home

Growing up in the UK, I’ve studied a lot of literature written by British authors. Shakespeare, Thomas Hardy, and John Keats, to name a few. But I did look at American authors too, authors such as Toni Morrison, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and John Steinbeck. Yet, one of the things that I felt was missing from my literary education was world literature: texts originally written in a language other than English, or whose authors are not from Britain or America.

Being the avid reader that I am, it didn’t take long before I found myself dipping my toe in the proverbial sea of world literature. Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, allowed me to take a closer look at Nigerian culture. Living in London, I had quite a few Nigerian friends and so I wasn’t a stranger to eating jollof rice and fufu, or taking part in the Nigerian Independence Day celebrations on the first of October. Still, reading Half of a Yellow Sun, which partly takes place during the Nigerian civil war, showed me a whole new side to the rich and painful history within this West African country. The same can be said about Khaled Hosseini’s novels The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns. These novels showed me a deeper understanding of how drastically, and rapidly, life has changed in Afghanistan in the last forty years. I realised, by reading these books, that I had the ability to learn so much about different histories, cultures, nations and individuals from the comfort of my own home.

Recently, I have decided to jump into the deep end (yes, I’m still referring to my ‘sea of world literature’ metaphor here, stay with me on this one) by reading as many books as I can from authors who are neither American nor British. Reading Italian authors such as Primo Levi and Umberto Eco has reminded me that the literature of one nation can be very diverse. I don’t think that many people can say that If Not Now, When? by Levi, and The Name of the Rose by Eco, have much in common. The first is about Jewish partisans at the end of WWII, and the second discusses Christianity in the 1300’s. Both are enlightening, well written, and thought provoking in their own special way, but they’re like chalk and cheese. A lot of people tend to generalise when it comes to reading world literature. They think that because they’ve read books from one particular author they now know all about the culture. That, however, is not the case. Reading books by different authors from the same country can give you a much better, and more detailed, understanding of the culture and history of a country. 

For me, reading these great books has been a pleasure and a privilege. I have travelled to far off places, I have submerged myself in many different cultures, and I have learnt about new ideas and ways of thinking. Each novel has given me something to think about, and each one has stayed with me long after I have read the last word. The power of words is an incredible thing and if we only focus on reading literature from the places we are from, we are missing out on having a great adventure.

The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde

I read this novella a few days ago and I can't stop thinking about it. So far, I've recommended it to three friends and my mum! As an admirer of Gothic literature and mystery novels, I really don't know why it took me so long to start reading this book in the first place.

I think most people are familiar with the characters of Jekyll and Hyde because they are very present in pop culture (think Halloween costumes, horror movies, and the fact that we refer to two faced people as being "a real Jekyll and Hyde kinda guy"). Because of this though, the main crux of the story was spoilt for me.
At the beginning of the book, the reader isn't supposed to know that Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde are the same guy. But of course, I knew that already, and so the impact of the reveal wasn't as powerful as it should have been.

Saying that, I loved the novella! It's written from the point of view of John Utterson, a lawyer who is friends with Dr Jekyll. He soon meets Mr Hyde, an apparent acquaintance of Jekyll. Hyde is an ugly gentleman with a terrible personality, and Utterson doesn't understand why Jekyll is friends with this strange guy. At the end of the book, Utterson discovers that Jekyll and Hyde and one and the same, and the mystery surrounding the two distinct personalities is cleared up.

Even though I went into the story knowing the whole Jekyll and Hyde situation, I was still incredibly impressed with the narrative structure. Because the story is told from Utterson's point of view, the reader doesn't know the connection between the Jekyll and Hyde characters until Utterson does. This, I feel, was a brilliant technique because it maintained suspense and it keeps the reader guessing until the very end.

One of the most eye opening things for me was the reasons behind Jekyll's transformation and why he kept wanting to be Mr Hyde. Hyde enabled Jekyll to live out his evil fantasies and to indulge his vices without being detected. Jekyll is so sick of portraying himself in a certain way to the public, and in Hyde he is free to let loose and to enjoy being self-indulgent. In this way, I think both Jekyll and Hyde are incredibly relatable characters. We're all like Jekyll, keeping up appearances to the outside world and trying to be inherently good. But really, all we want to do is show our Hyde side and not give a damn about the rest of the world, because sometimes it's fun to be bad.

If you fancy a quick and highly entertaining read, give this one a go.

Desperately Seeking Sherlock

I've mentioned in a previous post that I am big fan of detective novels, and you can't get more 'detective-y' than Sherlock Holmes!
I have read a lot of Sherlock Holmes stories in the past and I grew up watching Jeremy Brett's rendition of the great sleuth on TV with my mum (he is definitely one of the best Sherlock actors ever, go check him out). I've even been to the Sherlock Homes museum at 221 Baker Street (yes, it really exists!).

Recently, though, I've had the Sherlock bug. I started watching the American adaptation, "Elementary", with my friend because we were getting impatient waiting for the new season of the British adaptation, "Sherlock". And if you're wondering, the British version is a million times better, but the American version is watchable and it fills a void I guess.

Anyway, watching "Elementary" made me want to read some of the books again. So, in the space of a day, I read A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of Four. Both books are rather short (just over 100 pages each) and they are incredibly fast paced, so I couldn't put them down.

I love the characterisation of both Watson and Sherlock because they are incredibly unique characters, yet they compliment each other really well. I also think that Arthur Conan Doyle does a great job of creating a mystery by providing readers with little clues here and there. Due to the complicated nature of these mysteries, it's so easy to be swept up in Sherlock's brilliance and we can't help but gape in awe as he uses his power of deduction to solve the case.

I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the books. They should tide me over before the next season of "Sherlock" is aired...hopefully.

Albert Camus: "The Stranger" and "The Plague"

I had only heard of Albert Camus in the last year or so and since then I have read two of his greatest works: The Stranger and The Plague. 

My reasons for reading Camus in the first place was because I heard that he was from Algeria. Being half Algerian myself, I've always felt a connection to the country and it's painful history (colonised by France for 132 years, followed by a bloody war of independence, and then a civil war lasting 11 years). Because of this, I was incredibly eager to read Camus in an attempt to maybe understand my culture a little better. Unfortunately, what I didn't realise was that Camus was born and raised in Algeria to French parents (these individuals were known as pieds noirs). He wasn't Arab or Maghrebi, and his portrayal of Algeria was very much from a French, middle class point of view.

Knowing this therefore made it easier to recognise his biases, baring in mind that both The Stranger and The Plague were published in the 1940's when Algeria was still under French rule. A majority of his characters are not Arab, they are either French or Spanish or Jewish and all of these characters are named. When he does include Arab characters they are usually referred to as 'The Arab'. This is particularly noticeable in The Stranger. I initially thought this to be very strange because it was almost as if these Arab characters were being marginalised. But I soon realised that Camus did not necessarily intend to do this and I began reading the novels in the context in which they were written in. And so even though I was a little disappointed with not being able to learn more about the history of Algeria that I was familiar with, I learned a lot about pied noir Algeria. Essentially, Camus provided me with a different perspective on the story I thought I knew.

After sounding like a disappointed fuss pot, I have to admit that I did really enjoy both books. Camus does a great job of describing the setting and developing his characters, I mean he didn't win the Nobel prize for literature for nothing you know. He uses concepts such as absurdism and existentialism to inject his narratives with a unique flavour, and I found his story telling persuasive and compelling.

                             

Books, books, books

Libraries have always been important to me. They were my favourite place to be when I was growing up. The rows and rows of books, the wonderful silence, the comfy reading chairs; my home away from home. Having a library card was always a necessity and I never left home without it. I know it may sound cheesy but I always feel safe and comforted in a library, regardless of where it was and if I'd been there before. 

When I was searching for universities in the UK, one of the most important factors for me was the university library. During the campus tours I always made sure that I visited the library to see how big it was, what sort of books they had, and how comfortable the chairs looked. I think it's pretty ironic then that the university I finally chose (Amsterdam University College) doesn't have a library of its own. But I soon learned that borrowing books from my friends was the next best thing! Not only is it free, but you can also always discuss the book with your friend afterwards. That has to be one of the best things about borrowing books from people you know. 

When I moved to the Netherlands, almost three years ago, one of the first things I did was visit my local library to try and get a library card. I soon realised, however, that library cards aren't free here and so I didn't get one...But yesterday, that all changed. I finally got my hands on a library card. For some reason the Dutch government offered me a free library subscription for a year, and of course I wasn't going to pass that up! Getting my card and looking though the books in the English section reminded me of how much I had missed being in that kind of environment. Being able to go to a library and peruse the shelves at leisure, without having to read a book in one go or in installments because I can't borrow them, has to be one of the best feelings ever! I can't wait to get a lot of use out of my new library card this year, because as everyone knows: having fun isn't hard when you've got a library card!

The New York Trilogy

I have an eclectic taste in literature. Maybe you've guessed that already. There's not much I wouldn't read; from dystopian novels to fantasy fiction, from young adult to classics. I also really love to sink my teeth into a brilliant detective novel.

I have always been a fan of crime fiction. I enjoy the process of reading such novels; attempting to solve the crimes, thinking about each character's motive and alibi, being swept up in the fast paced narrative. Paul Auster's The New York Trilogy was a little different though. The book is comprised of three mini novellas which are all interconnected in some way. They are often referred to as 'modern detective stories' because they deal with absurdest and existentialist themes.  Primarily, they focus on the subject of identity, and essentially they are post modern detective stories. All that sounds rather pretentious to me; how can a detective story be post modern, and why does anything that has to do with identity sound so 'frou frou'? But putting all my preconceived judgements aside, I was pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed the book.

Initially though, I was a bit disappointed. Auster's name has been familar to me for some time now and so I was super eager to read one of his book. Plus, The New York Trilogy promised danger and excitement and, in my eyes, (because it's a detective story) murder. The only thing I was wrong about was the murder bit because no one gets bumped off. But the danger and excitement was definitely present. That and the fact that it was very different from what I expected, made the novel more interesting than I thought it was going to be.

My favourite story of the three was The Locked Room because I felt like it was the most dramatic and the most fast paced. This story came last in the trilogy and I think it was the defining factor concerning Auster and whether or not I'd read more by him. The answer is yes, partly because enjoyed the writing style and the nuances of a post modern detective story (the more I write it, the more pretentious it sounds!), and partly because I want to see if he kills off anyone in any of his other books...

The Sirens of Titan

Kurt Vonnegut was a literary genius and his book The Sirens of Titan definitely emphasises that fact. Not only is it an entertaining read, full of absurd scenarios and witty phrases, but it is also a novel that makes you think about "the bigger picture" (I'll explain what I mean by that in a minute).

The Sirens of Titan is a science fiction novel set in the 22nd century. It follows the intersecting lives of two characters: Malachi Constant and Winston Niles Rumfoord. The way that these two characters are connected is pretty complicated to explain in this blog post because things like time travel, erased memories, and changed identities are involved. Some parts of the narrative almost read like a detective story because you have to try and figure out the order of complexity between character relationships. I don't know if this aspect of the novel was intentional or if it's just the way my brain works, but I couldn't help but try to understand who a character was and why they acted in the way that they did, way before Vonnegut explained it to me. Funny thing is, I was right on the money about 90% of the time.

This novel, to some extent, reminded me of Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in terms of the absurdity of the plot. However, whilst I think that Adams is very obvious with the fact that his novel is supposed to be humorous and ridiculous. Vonnegut takes a different approach. Absurd events do occur, and humour is intended, but there is also a more serious undertone to the novel. In particular, the issues of agency and free will are discussed. This is what I mean by "the bigger picture". Vonnegut reflects on the big questions in life, like: Are we really in control of our own destiny? What is the purpose of our individual lives? To what extent do our lives intersect with the lives of others? The reader can't help but reflect on these questions too. This is where The Sirens of Titan is similar to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, because Vonnegut's answers to these serious and philosophical questions (or rather, potential answers since nobody can know the true answers) are far fetched and rather ridiculous. But I guess, since nobody can know the true/correct/accurate answers, who's to say Vonnegut's reasoning isn't plausible?

Death at Intervals

In my quest to read literature from other countries, i.e not literature from the UK/US, I decided to read a book by Jose Saramago. He's a Portuguese author who has won the Literature Nobel Prize, so I figured this book was a right step in my literature education.

Death at Intervals has an amazingly interesting plot line. There are three distinct sections of the narrative. In the first section we learn that in a unnamed country death no longer exists. This is initially met with celebration and festivity (yay, everyone can live forever!), but is soon regarded as a curse. Since nobody dies, the concept of religion becomes obsolete, the amount of elderly people increases, and undertakers face bankruptcy. I don't think I fully realised how crucial death is for society until I read this book. So many societal issues arise if nobody dies.

In the second section death has returned and is personified as female. She sends letters to people who are going to die, and in doing so gives them one week to sort out their affairs like saying goodbye to family and friends, writing a will, and settling accounts. This is not a good thing, however, because people who receive their 'death' letter begin to panic. It's kind of horrible to know that you only have one week to live I guess.

In the last section something strange happens (well the whole novel is a little strange so I don't know this section fits on the 'strange scale' if there is one). Death becomes obsessed with a cello player who is unable to die. She sends him numerous 'death' letters but they are constantly returned. So, she decides to take a human female form (up to this point she is a skeleton) and investigates this phenomenon. She quickly becomes infatuated with the cello player and chooses to stay with him. The next day, nobody dies...

Not only was the novel inventive and intriguing, but Saramago also has a unique way with words. He writes in a witty and clever way which is sometimes downright hilarious.
Here are some of my favourite bits:

• "One can never be too careful with words, they change their minds just as people do."
• "...death, by herself and alone, with no external help, has always killed far less than mankind has."
• "Due to some strange optical phenomenon, real or virtual, death seems much smaller now, as if her bones had shrunk, or perhaps she was always like that, and it's our eyes, wide with fear, that make her look like a giant."

I have to say though, the structure of the novel was a little off-putting. It was difficult to be absorbed in the narrative because there were no clear paragraphs and the speech between characters was hard to read. However, I really enjoyed the narrative as a whole and the ending was particularly pleasing. Even though it wasn't exactly a circular narrative, there was a definite link between the beginning and the end which reminded me of the circular structure of life and death.

The Hundred Year Old Man who Climbed out of the Window and Disappeared

For a while this book was everywhere. It was in all the book shops and it had been made into a film, which was being advertised wherever I looked. So I figured it was high time I read it to see what all the fuss was about....

The first thing that has to be said is: this novel was so very funny! The main character, Allan Karlsson’s history seems so far-fetched which adds to the hilariousness of the story. The story is told through events which are occurring in the present, as well as flash backs which show the reader what Allan got up to in his younger years. I much preferred reading the flash back parts because they were the most entertaining. Allan seems to have been involved in major events in history. He meets British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, US President Harry Truman, Chairman Mao, and other historical figures. He, apparently, was the brains behind the atom bomb, and how that came into being is also ridiculous. I really enjoyed how the author, Jonas Jonasson, intertwined Allan’s character into the fabric of real world history. Not only was this a good opportunity to refresh my history knowledge, but it was also laugh out loud funny.

I found the present events (so not the flashback bits) to be a bit nerve wracking at first. I am a sympathetic reader (which means I cry openly at the sad bits, I laugh out loud at the funny bits, I pull weird facial expressions at the confusing bits…sometimes this happens in public and I can’t help it), and so I was feeling really nervous and worried because things go from bad to worse pretty quickly. However, by the end of the novel, order is restored and the ending is a very happy one.

I don’t know how I feel about this novel though. I found it to be rather entertaining and there were a lot of funny passages, but I don’t think this is a book I’d read again in a hurry. I wonder if seeing it everywhere and hearing all these good things about it really raised my expectations because, I have to say, I was a little disappointed. But I guess life would be very boring if you liked everything you read, right?  

The Name of the Rose

My mum had been constantly  recommending this book to me until I finally physically picked it up and started reading it. Since she doesn’t recommend books to me very often, I felt like I had to read this one because it must be good if she liked it so much. And it was, it was just very difficult to get into at first. From the blurb, I originally thought that the book was going to be a detective story, with murders and clues and puzzles. It was a detective story, but it was also so much more than that.

Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose, is set in an Abbey in the Middle Ages and goes to great length to describe the religious history at the time. That was, by far, the more interesting aspect of this novel, even more interesting than the detective story aspects. I found the history fascinating. It was so interesting to read about the different aspects of Christianity and the different types of monastic orders which exist. I also learnt about how easy it is to be branded a heretic (I mean, being burned at the stake for saying something mild about Christ is rather scary to think about) and that religious inquisitors (the people who would put suspected heretics on trial and decide punishments) had absolute power.

The main character, William of Baskerville, is amazing. He values logic and common sense and uses these to solve the crimes occurring at the Abbey (I’m sure Eco used Baskerville as a nod to Sherlock Holmes). Even though he is deeply religious (he is a monk after all) he shows himself to be a free thinker from the things he says and how he behaves. In one chapter, some of the monks are talking about how women are evil and in league with the devil, which was a little offensive if I’m honest, me being a woman and all. William, however, argues that if that was true, God would not have given women the ability to give birth to man, so they can’t be all bad (thanks Wil!).

The story is told in a memoir, first person format by Adso, who was a novice at the time of the murders. He, as well as the reader, learns a lot from William, like how important it is to think about things carefully, and that it's ok to make mistakes as long as you can improve yourself by them. The writing style was interesting, but Adso spends a lot of time describing things and listing things. Usually I love descriptions, they help me to get a much better picture of what everything looks like in my head, but Adso just took it to a whole new level and sometimes the narrative was a little tedious. However, I have to say, that in general, I really enjoyed hearing about the events (so to speak) from Adso's point of view. He is so innocent and he struggles with aspects of his religion as he tries to discover what he wants from life. I liked this because I felt like I was also able to go with Adso on this personal journey, which was nice. 

The murders themselves, whilst perhaps not the most prominent aspect of the novel, are exciting and dangerous. The murderer is not revealed till the last possible moment, and trust me, you'll never be able to guess who it is or why they did it. I think Eco is a master mystery writer in this sense, he keeps up the suspense till the last possible moment. There is this kind of audible reaction, like "ahh, that's so clever!" and "I didn't see that coming!", once the mystery has been solved.

So now I'll end with a quote which really stood out to me: "In omnibus requiem quaesivi, et nusquam inveni nisi in angulo cum libro" 

Which translates to: "I searched for quiet everywhere, and found it nowhere except in a corner with a book." And if that doesn't ring true to all you bibliophiles out there, then I don't know what will. 

Reading Challenge Update

As it’s still January I think I’m still allowed to fill you in on my progress with my personal reading challenge. I don’t know if you remember, but two years ago (2013), I decided to record all the books I read in that year. At the end of the year I had managed to read 44 books. Last year (2014) I repeated the challenge with the aim to improve on the number of books I read. And I managed it because I read 53!

I guess neither 44 or 53 is an exceptionally great amount to be proud of, especially since I am a self-confessed literary addict (it would be more impressive if I had read several hundred, but I haven’t, so there). But, in my defense, being at university for 40 weeks of the year really doesn’t give me enough time for reading. I’ve also noticed that most of the books on my list were read during the holidays because I have more free time and can spend it with my nose in a book.

For the last year now, I have been setting myself little monthly goals. I try to read at least one book a month and I set time aside to read at least one chapter every day. This makes sure that I don’t get too swamped with work and that I give myself the chance to relax. I used to read every night before bed, but lately I’ve been way too tired for that. Now I just try to read between classes. So if I have a class that ends at 15.15 and one that begins at 16.00 that gives me 45 minutes to read, and I can get through quite a few pages in 45 minutes.

I hope to continue with recording all the books I read in the year because even if I don’t manage to beat my record from the previous year, I still enjoy looking over all the books I've read and thinking about how good (or bad) they were. And if that makes me a nerdy sad-o, so be it! 

The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum

Since I really enjoyed reading Max Frisch, I decided to pursue some other German authors. My friend (the same one who recommended Frisch to me in the first place) suggested I read something by Heinrich Boll. The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum is a really short novel (about 115 pages) but so much happens in such a short space of time. I found the narration to be rather different from other books I’ve read. The whole thing is written like a police report, stating the facts and providing the transcripts of suspect interviews after the events have occurred. I thought this was a really cool way of setting out the narrative because it enabled me to solve the crime (so to speak) along with the police officers.

The book is about Katharina Blum (I bet you guessed that right?) and the injustice she faces at the hands of the media after she has an encounter with a man wanted by the police. The newspapers ruin her life by besmirching her reputation. Because of this she gets a little crazy (which might be an understatement) and ends up killing a reporter. Readers learn of this murder from the get go. The narrative then goes on to explain why the murder occurred in the first place, why Katharina's name was dragged through the mud and how she ended up committing this crime.

The book was so short and the narrative so compelling that it didn’t take me long to get through. The prose was addictive and I found myself reading it rather greedily. That, for me, is the mark of a great story. I'm looking forward to getting my hands on some more of Boll's work!

Hector and the Search for Happiness

I was given this book for Christmas from my brilliant and amazing friend, the same friend who’s been recommending all those German authors I've been posting about (ok that's an exaggeration, it's only been two). 

We had watched the movie at the cinema before the Christmas holidays and I enjoyed it so much. Simon Pegg’s in it and so it was obvious that I was going to love it because he’s a great actor and I’m a massive fan. Like seriously, I’ve watched quite a lot of things he’s been in and his TV series, Spaced, is on my top 10 best TV series list.

Anyway, because I liked the film so much (here's the trailer if you're interested), my lovely friend bought the book for me. I started reading it and couldn’t put it down, I managed to finish it in a day. If I’m honest, it’s not that long of a book and the prose is very simple, so it wasn’t much of a challenge to breeze through it. Plus, the plot is very entertaining and it makes for a very enjoyable read. I usually hate (!) reading books after I’ve seen the movie because any surprises within the novel don’t have the same impact because I know they’re going to happen! But, in this case it didn’t really matter that I had already seen the film because the book, as often happens with book to film adaptations, it’s not completely the same as the film. 

The book is about a psychiatrist called Hector who decides to go and travel the world in order to see what makes people happy. He meets a lot of colourful characters and learns a lot about what it means to be truly happy. I don’t think anyone can read this book and NOT have a smile on their face by the time they reach the last page. Even though the writing style is very basic (almost childlike), there is an element of ambiguous-ness. For example, the author, Francois Lelord, doesn’t explicitly mention what religion he's referring to in this excerpt:"Hector asked them what their religion was, and it turned out that it was the same as Hectors! This dated back to the time, long ago, when people of Hector's religion had occupied their islands, because at that time they tended to think that everything belonged to them." I think it's pretty safe to assume that he's talking about Christianity. I found this method of writing to be rather clever and entertaining because it was fun to work out what it was exactly that Lelord was talking about.

What made the whole reading experience even better is that my friend had annotated the copy with her thoughts on certain passages (some of the comments she made are bloody hilarious!), and she had underlined quotes that she thought were the most illuminating. Here are some of the quotes she highlighted which I think are really interesting: 

• "The basic mistake that people make is to think that happiness is the goal." 
• "It's one thing thinking something and another thing knowing it."
• About dictatorships: "Their whole country was like a bad family which didn't look after its children properly."
• "Hector was intelligent but not necessarily smart."
• "Knowing and feeling are two different things, and feeling is what counts."
• "We're very concerned about polluting the air, but not about polluting our children's minds."
• One of the rules I try to live my life by: "Happiness is not attaching too much importance to what other people think." 
• "But that's science: it isn't enough just to think a thing, you must try to verify whether it's true."

So, all in all, I don't think this is the best book I've ever read (or the best book I've read this month even), but it was really lovely and had some truly inspiring and noteworthy messages to share. Best of all, it's always going to remind me of a great and loyal friend (sounds proper cheesy but it's the truth).

Brave New World

This book has been on my reading list for years, but I've finally managed to read it. Feels like a major achievement when you can tick a book off your reading list. Brave New World is one of those super famous books that nearly everyone has heard of, even if they haven't actually read it. So I guess you could say that I had high expectations. And it's always a wonderful feeling when your expectations are met.

Brave New World is so very, very good. It's one of those books that just stay with you for ages afterwards because it gives you so much to think about. The most notable thing about the plot is the way society has changed into a scary, social class focused nightmare. No body has children anymore, instead babies are formed in test tubes, so words like 'mother' and 'father' have become taboo. People are encouraged to have multiple relationships and children are raised in factory like settings. Indoctrination is rife, hallucinogenic drugs are commonplace, and genetic engineering plays a major role in the structure of society.

I found the plot intoxicating. The ideas that Huxley presents of the future are both clever and frightening at the same time. His description of the way people are 'born' in the future shocked and angered me, but also fascinated me in a purely scientific way. I initially thought the writing style was a little strange because it's not particularly sophisticated. But, after reading the novel, I do have to admit that the writing style works well considering the main themes of the novel and the pace of the plot. Overall I think Brave New World works really well as a dystopian novel. It's exciting, full of surprises, and genuinely makes you think "What? How does that even work?" at several points in the narrative. If it's been on your reading list for a while, I suggest you make the effort to read it soon. And if it's not on your list, why not?!

Homo Faber

Since 2015 has just begun (Happy New Year by the way) I wanted to share one of my favourite books I read in 2014: Max Frisch's Homo Faber. It was recommended to me by a dear friend of mine (a fellow book enthusiast) and so I had high expectations. It didn't disappoint! And, now I know I can trust her book recommendations :)

Now, even though it was a brilliant novel, it did take me a while to get properly stuck into it. I thought the beginning of the novel was a bit too random. It started off with the main character getting on a plane, then the plane crashes, then some other stuff happens, and finally the narrative takes off in the direction that it's 'supposed' to go in. I say 'supposed' because Frisch doesn't really talk about the plane crash again, so I don't really see what that has to do with the story as a whole. Maybe I'm just missing something?

But once I had got past that little hurdle, the story sucked me in and I finished in two evenings. I just couldn't stop reading! I enjoyed the plot, but I think my favourite thing about the novel as a whole was the fluidity of the writing style.The story is written in first person and here it is very clear to see what a talented author Frisch is. I sometimes find that authors are not able to write well in a first person narrative because it soon begins to sound limited. But first person narratives can be great because they allow readers to walk side by side with the narrator; we only know what he/she knows. Frisch seems to be completely at ease with this style of writing.

This type of book is something which I call a 'contradictory novel'; nothing much really happens, but yet so much does happen! I love these kinds of books, so it's no wonder that I enjoyed Homo Faber so much. Some of my favourite books of all time are 'contradictory novels' (bare in mind, this is not an official term, I made it up). Books like The Catcher in the Rye, The Bell Jar and The Stranger, where nothing much happens and yet the narrative is fast paced.

I loved Homo Faber. So I guess it comes to no surprise that when I found another Frisch book (it's called I'm not Stiller) a few days ago, I got so very excited and had to buy it at once! I can't wait to get stuck into that one. I'll let you know what I think about it once I've finished reading it...