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...