50 years a reader |
An exploration of half a century of reading. |
Just before starting my 50 years - ie the last book in the first 50 years, I read a book that totally blew my mind. It was called Lena's Nest by Rosalie Warren. I wrote a review of it here on McRenegades - no point repeating myself - except to say that when I said it was a book I'd been waiting 30 years to read i wasn't joking. From the first moment I considered being a brain in a vat (I'm still up for that by the way) this is the sort of thing that has consumed my thoughts on a regular basis. What is reality? What is identity, and more specifically personal identity? There was only one problem - having had this wonderful reading experience I thought everything else would pall into insignificance by comparison. BOOK 2: Imagine my surprise on reading 'The Secret Knowledge' by Andrew Crumey. I don't know where he's been hiding all my life - and in fact if I do my sums right he may well have been in his 4th year at St Andrews when I was in my 1st (but then I wasn't mixing with theoretical physicists in those days) - somehow I've never come across this fiction until recently - and then only by chance. It was one of those 'which of his books do i start with' moments and I picked The Secret Knowledge mainly because I could pick it up for that wonderful price of 0.1p plus £2.80 deal as a second hand (I couldn't reserve any in the library, they have a couple of the more recent I think but...) Anyway, it didn't seem like that much of a risk and I was not disappointed. It's the sort of book that means my dinner gets burned because I keep thinking I can multi-task in the fields of cooking and reading. I'm pretty good at both truth be told, but I don't recommend trying to do both at once. Not good for the digestion. Anyway, the point being, 'The Secret Knowledge' while nothing like Lena's Nest, was equally mind bending. And while these days I enjoy nothing more than sitting down reading something that might be considered 'simple,' my days of 'intellectualism' far behind me, i do like my brain to be actively engaged in something when I read. For the past couple of years it's been mostly engaged in the sphere of narrative structure, and indeed The Secret Knowledge does have a doozy of a narrative structure, but it was the 'thoughts' or perhaps they are 'themes' that really got to me. I don't want to spoil the story for you but it's all about characters who may (or may not) exist in alternative realities and it spans 1914 through to the present day. It was, as they say 'a cracker' of a read - the sort of book you race through but try to hold back because you never want it to end. Fortunately for me, before even finishing it I knew I would need more of a Crumey fix so I ordered up another cheap edition called 'Mr Mee' having assessed that it might have something of the same magic in it - and it's partly about a bookseller. Having forced myself through Scott's 'The Antiquary' recently in order to repay a debt of gratitude to someone who loves that book (I do that sometimes just to try and make connections with other readers/writers) I have this hope that 'Mr Mee' might be what 'The Antiquary' in all fairness to Scott, couldn't be. I'll be reading it in March so watch this space. BOOK 3: And then there was Dorothy Alexander's 'The Mauricewood Devils.' I'm not going to lie, I found it hard to get to grips with at times. I think it may be more 'experimental' than I can cope with. It was trying to do some very clever things - and probably succeeding - but I'd have been happy with a straightforward narrative. That, by the way, is no criticism of Alexander - after all, it's for the writer to write the book they want the way they want and I'm pretty sure she can be proud of herself for her achievement in this debut novel. I' m sure greater minds than mine will give it the praise it deserves. For me, the primary interest in the novel was the place of S.R.Crockett in it. 'The Mauricewood Devils' tells a semi-fictionalised version of a real tragedy, The Mauricewood Pit Disaster from 1889. Crockett was one of the local ministers and as such was quite involved. He helped set up a widows fund and got a lot of stick because he pushed for 'partners' to get the same as the married widows. The response he got from the Church was, I believe, one of the nails in the coffin for his life as a minister. He canvassed around for money from well known folk, including Robert Louis Stevenson (who sent some) and with whom he then corresponded until the death of the latter. The two men never met, but they did develop a friendship. That's by the by for this story. Crockett himself was so moved by the events that he wrote about it several times. In 1894 he contributed a short story to the magazine 'Vox Clamantiaum' called ' In the matter of Incubus and Co ' and he also wrote a short story based on events from Mauricewood in ‘The Stickit Minister’s Wooing’ first published 1900. The story is called ‘The Respect of Drowdle.’ The images and the iniquity never went away and in his 1908 book 'Vida: The Iron Laird of Kirktown' the hateful Incubus Company crops up again and Crockett treats us to quite an invective about capitalism - all wrapped up in his usual very accessible plot. 'Vida' has pretty much fallen off the radar of books, though the car chase in it comes back in recognisable form in John Buchan's 39 Steps a handful of years later! But that's Crockett not Alexander! Dorothy Alexander uses a range of techniques to develop her story, and if you're going to read it, I'd recommend reading the Author's Notes before you start or the style can come as something of a jolt. Or maybe I've just been out of the fray of contemporary fiction for too long! It's certainly worth a read and not just for the Crockett parts! BOOK 4: Another book I read this month was 'Bad Blood' by Aline Templeton. The reason being I found out it was set in Galloway. Now it's no secret how much I love Galloway and sometimes I think I would read a Galloway phone book quite happily. But 'Bad Blood' isn't my kind of book. Again, no criticism of the author intended - it is not her job to write FOR ME after all. It's a 'police procedural' and I really don't read such things. I have no interest in modern detective/police/crime/thriller type stories. But I fancied reading 'Bad Blood' might at least give me some insight into the genre (with a decent dose of Galloway thrown in for good measure.') I don't think it's appropriate to say I was disappointed but I can confirm it's not my kind of book. It seemed to me quite like a version of Happy Valley (the only one of these kind of drama series I've recently watched and I've had to give up on it because I get confused and am not interested enough in the 'world view' to try and keep up with the plot. I'm afraid I have absented myself from the world of hard hitting, gritty urban life both in reality and in my reading. There's no way it's 'escapism' for me. I live a peaceful, rural life from choice. Why would I want to escape to the chaos and mayhem and horrors of the urban 'experience.' I know it exists. I know (at least in outline) how horrific it is and I choose to keep away from it. So, 'Bad Blood' wasn't for me - but I did read it all the way through and I think I worked out what it is that people find interesting in these kinds of stories. It's just not what I'm looking for in a story. I will, however, allow the 'disappointed' word to come in with relation to the actual portrayal of Galloway. For me there was nothing recognisable with 'my' Galloway. It could have been set anywhere 'small town' and there is the rub. Galloway doesn't really 'do' small-town like that which is the setting of Bad Blood. I know it's set in a fictional part of Galloway but it's not a fictional Castle Douglas or fictional Newton Stewart or anywhere that i could recognise. And in 12 years of living in Galloway I can't say I came across any characters remotely like those in the novel. So why set it in Galloway? I hope to hear Aline speak (that's why I read the book) in the near future at a local book festival, and I may (if I have the nerve) ask her that question. If I can frame it without seeming rude. I don't like to be rude or critical of any other writer. I know how hard it is to write (not as hard as being a miner obviously!) But once again to turn to Crockett - he fictionalises Galloway time and again, but all his places Cairn Edward for Castle Douglas and Drumquhat for Laurieston etc are recognisable - though one might argue how do I know what CD was like in the 19th century? Okay, that may be valid, though if you've been to CD you'll probably agree that not a lot seems to have changed since the 19th century (!) but there is no argument that Crockett's characters are recognisable - I have met several (if not many) Crockett characters in real life during my time in Galloway and he also gives the most remarkable landscape descriptions. Maybe a modern police procedural isn't the place to be waxing lyrical about Galloway as a landscape, but it does seem to write of the place and largely ignore this aspect (apart from a couple of references to purple skies - which I've never seen there - they are more lilac to me - and Clatteringshaws -) is something of an opportunity wasted. For me, there isn't much of the heart or soul of Galloway in 'Bad Blood.' Galloway is a remarkable landscape. Actually, even though I'm much further north now, Galloway is the only place I've seen the aurora borealis. I was out late one evening and saw this incredible green shimmering all over the sky. I didn't know (at the time) that the 'Northern Lights' were green. I remember early the next morning over one of my regular chats at the farmyard gate (with the modern version of Crockett's Saunders McQuhirr,) saying 'I saw this incredible green light in the sky last night' and being just a bit embarrassed when he said 'aye that's the northern lights' as if it was nothing. It still makes me laugh to this day. And that's Galloway for you. Always surprising, in any weather. And well worth writing about if you have the skill for natural description. I don't. I seem to have drifted somewhat from my original point, but I think that at least more or less covers my February 50 years a reader books and now I can get on with planning (and reading) the March contingent!
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BOOK 1. This month, and it was a pleasure, I re-read 'The Hill of the Red Fox' by Allan Campbell McLean. I was in quite serious trepidation before reading it because I was worried it wouldn't live up to my remembered expectation. How wrong I was! If you take the very best of 'Kidnapped' and add in the very best of 'The Thirty Nine Steps' and have a 12 year old hero at the time of the Cold War, believe me, you will not be disappointed! I first read this book in my teenage years. Allan Campbell McLean came to our school to give an author talk in either 1975 or 76. So that will be when I first read it. The copy I now have is one I bought in 1988, so I'm guessing I re-read it then. As is my want, I read all of his children's fiction including 'Master of Morgana,' 'The Silver Trumpet' Ribbon of Fire' and 'The Year of the Stranger.' None of them disappointed. And at the time I think I liked others better than 'The Hill of the Red Fox.' In the early 1990's I found and read what I thought was his only adult novel 'The Islander' and early in my screenwriting career I wrote a screenplay version of it - but never had the money or the temerity to approach his agents asking for 'an option.' More recently I picked up a copy of his other adult novel 'The Glasshouse' which I have to confess I haven't read yet - there's one for my March reading list - It is described as 'a vivid and terrifyingly realistic novel. For the prisoners their stay is a nightmare of physical and mental torture. For the staff an unrivalled opportunity to be brutish and brutal.' The New Statesman called it 'A hard, truthful novel about a closed society.' Also from the 'blurb' I discover the following: Allan Campbell Mclean was born in 1922. He served for four years in the Western Desert during the war and in 1945 he experienced 56 long days in the glasshouse. His novel The Islander won the Frederick Niven Award in 1962. He was a committed Labour Party member and lived for a time in Inverness. He died in 1989. Checking out the cover of the 70s edition I had, I note that it was a TV series, and checking online reveals that yes, it was out in 1975. I suppose he must have been on some kind of promotional tour when he came to visit our school. He certainly made an impact on me. He wasn't the first 'real writer' I met (when I was eleven my Latin teacher wrote a book set in 18th century Edinburgh) but he certainly made a big impression on me. I suppose it was his very 'normalcy' that made me think it was possible for an ordinary person to become a writer. All that mattered was that you cared about stories. And he must have been around the same age that I am now when I met him. That's food for thought. During this year I will definitely re-read all his books. I'm sorry I never caught up with him again to tell him what an impact that school visit had. When looking for a cover image for this piece I came across a whole wheen of different covers over the years. The most recent one is by Kelpies. If you ever wonder what the impact of a cover on a book is - look at the images below and think which of these would make you want to read the book (Given that the books are pitched for the 10+ market, I wonder if you will pick the one that would have been in print when you were the appropriate age!)
Quite apart from all the books I'm reading as part of my work (as publisher) I determined to commemorate my half century of being a reader by reading (at least) 50 Scottish books. I thought I'd try to narrow it down to 50 Scottish fiction books.
If we take the starting date as my birthday - February 14th, here's what I've read since then. (I'll go into them all separately in more detail anon - this is just to remind myself as much anything!) Read for the first time: Granite Grit –Lee Cooper The Secret Knowledge – Andrew Crumey Bad Blood – Aline Templeton Mauricewood Devils - Dorothy Alexander Re-read: The Hill of the Red Fox – Allan Campbell Mclean Close but no cigar Maggie Craig and Catherine Byrne – I started but just couldn’t finish books by both of these writers. It's nothing against them as books, they are just not my cup of tea. And life is too short (now) for me to read books which I really can't engage with. I'm all for stepping out of my comfort zone, but sometimes all it does is reconfirm what it is I like (and dislike) about reading. I'm pretty eclectic, but there are things I just cannot get on with. I can't remember a time when I couldn't read. I know I was reading by the age of three. I just turned 53, which means that I've been reading for 50 years. That feels significant to me. I still love reading. I wish I'd kept a record of all the books I've read over the years - I'd love to count them up and see how many thousands it is. But I didn't.
Still, no time like the present. To mark my 50 years as a reader, i'm going to start keeping records - noting down books I'm reading now for the first time, books I'm revisiting and basically anything book related that strikes me as interesting. If anyone else finds it interesting too, that's great. |
AuthorIn 2016 I will have been reading for 50 years. I'm going to celebrate this by reading even more and sharing what I'm reading. Archives
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