Vintage Book Review: “Notes from the Underground” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky” (1864)

“Notes from the Underground” (1864)  predates many of the better known works of Dostoyevsky, such as “The Idiot” and “Crime and Punishment”, but shows a fascinating glimpse of a foray into an existential, stream-of-consciousness, style.

The narrator makes it very clear from the beginning that he is “a spiteful man”; due to varying factors, including a chronic illness, and various setbacks in life, he has become a misanthropic recluse who speaks from the darkness of wherever he may be hiding. Also, from the beginning, we come to realize that he is far from a reliable narrator, for just moments after claiming to be a retired government official, he says that he was lying about that all along “out of spite”. However unreliable, his subsequent ranting about the ills of society, and the inner demons he grapples with every day – reaching the point where he begins to derive a perverse enjoyment from his own corruption “from the intense consciousness of one’s own degradation” – become darkly compelling.

The narrator goes on to claim that it is not only he that is suffering “degradation”. In fact, he claims that the whole of humanity from the malady of hypocrisy, in pertaining to have achieved civilization whilst still seeking out war and practicing oppression, killing and persecution. The narrator gladly awaits a time when “reason and common sense have completely re-educated human nature and turned it in a normal direction”, but as long as this is not the case, the narrator is prepared to continue living in estrangement from fellow people.

Moving further on, he describes a time when he was due to meet up with colleagues and they gave him the wrong time, and did not even apologize when it made him late, leading to grow increasingly irate and distance himself socially. Later, he encounters a prostitute, whose grim future he anticipates and recites to her, trying to veer her off the path to self-destruction. Eventually they part ways, with it being not entirely certain whether she will heed his advice.

Eventually, in typical fashion, the narrator apparently becomes weary of his own story and decides to cut short his own story, yet intriguingly ending with a footnote that it “does not end here”. We gain the impression that there is so much more that the narrator has to say, but given that only pure spite was fuelling him in the first place, he would have to run out of steam some time.

As a commentary of the  failings of the human race, “Notes from the Underground” was controversial at the time, due to its suggestion that people are inherently uncooperative and unable to act and live as a collective. In fact, for some time this was treated as something of an “underground story”, however as more satire on Soviet society began to subsequently emerge, Dostoyevsky was seen as providing a jumping-off point in the “man vs. society” narrative trope which has become legitimately recognized over time.

A Brief Moment In Time by Deborah French: Book Review

Reviewing a memoir is quite different from reviewing fiction. Instead of looking for narrative structure and memorable characters you are looking for genuine sentiment and an insight into the world of the writer. Suffice to say I was only a few pages into A Brief Moment In Time before I broke into tears and had to put it down. ‘This will have to be read in stages,’ I told myself, and I was right. Deborah French’s story is 100% honest from the word go, but it is not an easy journey. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been to write because it’s quite an experience to read.
The book opens with the birth of Deborah’s second child, Amariah and you are instantly transported into the mind of Deborah as she experiences the diagnosis of Down’s Syndrome. From that life-changing moment we are taken through her life chronologically as she learns to deal with the diagnosis and other people’s reactions. True to life’s unfair nature, just as Deborah and her husband Johnny are adjusting to life, they learn that Henry, their first son, has Autistic Spectrum Disorder. The book follows the couple as they struggle through the schooling system, the lack of information available and a move to Israel.
Although attitudes to special needs children are significantly more understanding than they used to be, A Brief Moment In Time highlights the fact that there is still a stigma, a lack of understanding and ultimately a certain amount of ignorance concerning these issues. It is Deborah’s honesty that truly allows the reader to understand life from both the children’s point of view and the parents’. Her humility allows the reader to empathise with her situation, understanding her actions and reactions.
Although my reading experience of this book started with tears of sadness, as it continued the tears quickly turned into ones of happiness. No one can know how they would react to a similar situation in their own life, but I only hope that I would be as strong, methodical and tenacious as Deborah. Instead of spending her time fretting over other people’s reactions to her children, she researched their conditions, the help available and learned how she could assist them to live happily in this world. She writes about how casting aside denial was one of the key parts of making progress, allowing her to see the world from Henry’s point of view and ultimately reach out to him in a way that no-one else could.
The book itself is well written, thoughtfully structured and a wonderful example of what life is really like with twins and two special needs children. It would be an extremely helpful guide to anyone facing a similar future, but overall it is an insightful look into the reality of special needs children and will hopefully help to educate people in the future. Deborah, Amariah and Henry teach us that the label ‘special needs’ is there to ensure these children receive the care essential to their progression and happiness, not to separate them from what is considered ‘normal’.

Vintage Book Review: “The Haunting of Hill House” by Shirley Jackson (1959)

Hallowe’en may be months away (unless you’re still revelling from the previous one) and the days are getting longer, well, by the day, but that shouldn’t get in the way of appreciating a classic supernatural horror story which has been acclaimed by Stephen King as the blueprint for the modern “spooky story”.

The tale begins with the rational-minded Dr Montague, who is sufficiently taken with the legend surrounding Hill House, to invite a few other people to stay with him in the house to “test his theory” that the unexplained goings-on can all be explained with science and reason.

There is Eleanor, a quiet, shy, reserved woman who becomes increasingly reluctant to participate in the stay before she even gets there; encounters with hostile local people on the journey makes her certain that there is a sinister secret surrounding the place. Soon she meets Theodora, her “cousin”, who is more outgoing but the two women stick closely together upon their meeting. Then there is Luke Sanderson, the heir to the property, but somehow among the least receptive – or cut off even – when it comes to the story behind Hill House.

Initially, everyone there is sufficiently spooked by the house itself – being a most imposing and unwelcoming place to spend any time in – only to have Dr Montague add to this by telling them the rather grisly story of the unfortunate family who first lived there. Madness, bad fortunes and suicide are recurring in the family history, and understandably no-one can bear to stay in the place for very long, but the new residents (perhaps excepting Eleanor, who anticipates the worst already) decide to give the house a chance.

However the opinion that the house is, essentially, a malignant and living thing, with a will of its own to drive out anyone who dares to live there, begins to ring all the more true. It is not long before frightening events begin to unfold – loud banging in the night, writing on the wall and destruction of property – which seem to happen to, or close to, Eleanor more than anyone else. Eventually this will result in a tragic ending, as Eleanor is killed while attempting to leave the house.

What makes this story so unsettling is that events are described in the narrative clearly enough to induce fear and unease in the reader, but also vaguely enough that a rational explanation can’t be ruled out entirely.

A subtle build-up of apprehension, combined with a disturbing back-story to overshadow the present narrative, serve to make this a story which has clearly influenced later supernatural writers, and continues to spook readers today.

Vintage Book Review: “Fahreheit 451” by Ray Bradbury (1953)

Fahrenheit 451 has become something of a classic, not only for “hard-core” fans of Ray Bradbury, but among many others who see the world going down the path of doing away with the written word, lest it offend anyone. Sixty years on, what Bradbury saw the future as being – in spirit if not in the literal sense – does not seem too far-fetched in the age of Dumbing Down.

The action begins with Guy Montag, a “fireman” on the job, which is basically to hunt down, and burn, any books that may still be in existence. The very first line is “It was a pleasure to burn”, and Bradbury evokes a strong image, saying that he “strode in a swarm of fireflies”, and when he meets an unusual, and highly inquisitive, teenage girl on the walk home (walking home, in itself, is considered a suspicious activity), Montag furthers the anti-hero image by saying ““Kerosene is nothing but perfume to me.”

But it is not long before, through the girl’s persistence, he is given pause for thought and begins to wonder just why his job is of such vital importance. The first major indication of something gone amiss is when he has to take his wife home from the hospital, after she apparently attempted suicide, but is given drugs so that she has no memory of doing so. Realising that he and his wife may be less than content in their (allegedly) idyllic book-free existence, he begins to question everything more outwardly. But it seems that Montag is the odd man out in this case, from the robot Hound that blindly follows orders (“It doesn’t think anything we don’t want it to think”) to his colleagues, who are adamant that they are performing a public service (“Don’t give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy.”).

When his wife, and the mysterious young girl (also allegedly) disappear without a trace, and after a traumatic job assignment in which a woman is burned along with the books she tries desperately to hold onto, Montag decides enough is enough, and goes on the run in a quest for any literary knowledge, any “texture of information”, that may remain.

Bradbury, wryly and shrewdly, depicts a not-too-unrealistic world, in which books are seen as the enemy, rather than the ally, of the moral progress of human civilisation. Written not too long since a time when much book-burning was in fact taking place, Bradbury effectively draws attention to the notion that a totalitarian approach to the censorship of knowledge may lie in wait in the not-too-distant future.

 

Book Review: Red Zone by Sherri Hayes

Sherri Hayes’ latest novel follows the lives of a headstrong FBI agent and a professional footballer thrown together in the hunt for a stalker and unwittingly on a journey full of steamy romance. On the surface, Rebecca Carson is solely focused on her career, with no mind for romance or even fun. It quickly becomes apparent that truthfully she is searching for someone to spend the rest of her life with, but only if he ticks all the boxes. Gage Daniels, on the other hand, is all about the fun side of life as he lives out his dream of playing professionally and seducing women.  His perfect life is interrupted by the presence of a stalker and Rebecca is brought in to help solve the case, working undercover as his girlfriend.

As the story progresses, so does the presence of the stalker, with more letters and photos of Gage and other women surfacing, but it is only when Gage and Rebecca find themselves under fire that they realise just how serious the situation is. As the two main characters gradually get used to each other their pasts begin to surface. Rebecca has clearly been burnt in the past and as you learn more about her parents it is easy to see why she has so many barriers up. Gage is relatively unscathed by love, but as both his friend and brother have seen the more painful side of love it is understandable that he’d prefer to enjoy the commitment-free side.  As Gage and Rebecca get to know each other they begin to analyse their own actions and feelings, working out the cause of their problems and when Rebecca’s bubbly sister, Megan, comes onto the scene Rebecca realises just how much fun she has been missing out on.

The premise of the story is a good one and certainly not something that I have read in the past. The concept of combining a career driven woman with a fun loving man to bring out the true nature in each of them is not a unique one, but Hayes makes it work without entering cliched territory. If I had to find fault in the book, I would have to say that the constant threat of the stalker could be much more sinister and make the sexual tension between Rebecca and Gage electric, but it seems to only be there as a reason to bring the two characters together. The focus on emotions is where Hayes really excels and she draws attention to the often overlooked need to address one’s feelings honestly. Both Rebecca and Gage take the time to consider why they react in a certain way and because of this they learn more about themselves and eventually develop a strong relationship. If you take anything from this book I suggest it be the emotional honesty that her characters use to reveal their true natures.

The Trials of Arthur: The Life & Times of a Modern Day King – CJ Stone and Arthur Pendragon

It if fair to say that this book is unlike any other that I have read and that alone is a good enough reason to give it a try. It depicts the inspiring and unique journey of Arthur Pendragon, also known by numerous other names, as he discovered his true calling in life. To begin with I was worried that this might be an overly didactic tale of King Arthur in the 21st Century, but I was greatly mistaken. The Trials of Arthur is simply that: an insight into his life as he transformed from squaddie to biker to King Arthur himself and everything in between. It is also a humble explanation of the difference that he made to those around him, access to Stonehenge and to the world.

CJ has set the tone of this book perfectly. At no point do you feel like you are hearing the dreary tale of an eccentric man’s life. Instead it feels as though you are sitting around a campfire with Arthur and CJ exchanging stories and really getting to know these two extraordinary men. It is a gently humorous insight into the inner world of a misfit with a joyful rhythm propelling the story along. CJ explains not only the thinking behind each action, but also the sentiment, which ensures that the reader is never left behind.

The Trials of Arthur makes you stand back and take a look at your life, asking if you are happy and if you are making a difference for what you believe in. It doesn’t tell you what to believe, it simply says stand up for it. You gain an insight into the life of a Druid, but it is written in a way that simply allows you to accept that life, accept this man who believes that he is the legendary King Arthur. At no point did I think to myself ‘what a madman’. I just accepted what he believed and was inspired by his determination. The fact that one man, standing in the rain in his tatty leathers day after day, trying to persuade people that they needn’t pay to see Stonehenge, that it was in fact their right to see it, can influence so many people and ultimately lead to the end of restricted access to the monument, is truly inspiring. Overall this is a well written, humorous and insightful book, no matter what your personal beliefs might be.