Recent reads: The Death of Napoleon by Simon Leys and The Lady with the Little Dog by Anton Chekhov

Much of my reading time at this end of the year is spent reading or re-reading texts that I'll be discussing with students the following year.  It's a process I enjoy, as I get a (limited) choice from an always-interesting list and sometimes it's a matter or discovering new books and new authors, and sometimes it's a matter of revisiting old favourites.  It forces me into reading texts I might otherwise not get round to. 

The Death of Napoleon by Simon Leys (aka Pierre Ryckmans) is one of my favourite novellas.  At 105 pages long (for those who like short texts), it's a wonderful What if story.  Emperor Napoleon escapes St Helena undetected (thanks to a double) and, in the guise of a boat-hand, returns to claim his authority.  Unfortunately, things go awry and the secret network that has organised his escape collapses, leaving him alone and unknown.  After tagging along with a group of English tourists who are visiting the site of Waterloo (and other adventures), he finds himself in Paris living with Widow Truchaut, and utilising his considerable campaign skills to... sell melons

All goes well until... well, you'll have to read the book for yourself.  It's certainly worth it.

I'm a fan of Chekhov's plays (The Cherry Orchard, The Three Sisters, etc) and Raymond Carver's short stories (who has been likened to an American 20th century Chekhov) and so thought this collection of short stories, The Lady with a Little Dog and other Stories, 1896-1904, would be illuminating.  These were written and published in the last 8 years of Chekhov's life and I found myself drawn more towards the final stories than the earlier ones - the stories which more powerfully reflected the concerns evident in his plays: primarily, characters seeking affirmation in a period of great social change and often finding themselves thwarted in this.  Some of the earlier stories from this collection were, I felt, rambling and stodgy - lacked the sharpness evident in his last works - but I'll have to read them another couple of times yet and may well find elements that I missed first time round.

Gary Davison reviews The Grease Monkey's Tale

Friend and fellow PaperBooks' author Gary Davison (Fat Tuesday, Streakers) has just posted a fine review of The Grease Monkey's Tale and, as Gary notes himself, it's sweet-timing for the Christmas stocking-fillers.

Now there's a gift idea.    Cheers, Gary.

Visit Gary's website and the review here.

James Laidler, The View From Here and the Ascent of Mike French

As promised - although I'm a bit tardy on this (sorry) because it's been a darned busy couple of weeks - am announcing that my interview with James Laidler about his recently published verse novel The Taste of Apple has been published in this month's edition of The View From Here.  In it, James offers some wonderful insights and excellent advice about writing.

James' website can be found at www.jameslaidler.net and I recommend dropping by.

You can order a print edition of the magazine online or, for the princely sum of U$1.00 (GBP 0.69 pence!), download a digital version.  Go here for that biz.

I'm also delighted to announce that my good friend Mike French, senior editor at The View From Here, has just been signed up by Cauliay Publishing, who will be publishing his novel The Ascent of Isaac Steward in 2011.

Mike has launched a new website (www.mikefrenchuk.com) where, amongst other things, he'll be blogging about his novel (and its journey towards publication), so please click on the link and definitely pay him a visit.

On WikiLeaks

Too many politocrats believe everyone should be accountable except themselves.

Mixing it up and breaking it down - the music

Here's the guest blog I recently posted over at Gary Davison's blog:

As Gary mentioned recently, we've decided to mix up our blogs again and write about our favourite music across the last four decades - or, at least, the songs that have had an impact on us. Easier said than done. As soon as I tried, I realised we'd set ourselves a ridiculously hard task. I love music - all kinds of music - from rock to blues to classical to world roots to... so how could I possibly identify four songs out of the hundreds or thousands that I've raved about and danced to? Impossible. If we'd allowed ourselves 100 tracks per decade then I might've stood a slim chance, but then this post would have had to scroll several metres off your screen, off your desk and across the floor. Anyway, I've had a go, albeit one that focuses on the mainstream for the sake of simplicity. And I've started with the Noughties, because the Seventies - that golden era when music was changing at a phenomenal pace - is too hard a place to begin.

The Noughties: Xavier Rudd, Jack Johnson, Regina Spektor, Charlie Parr, The White Stripes, The Black Keys, Emilie Simon, Cat Power... Ye gods, this isn't easy. But the big name - the single musician who has had the biggest impact - well, I'll have to settle for Ben Harper. And as for a single track - well, that's as hard again. I don't think this is the very best of Ben Harper, but it's dynamite for its broad appeal and almost an anthem: Burn One Down.

As for the Nineties, I'll try not think too hard about it and dive straight into Radiohead and, from OK Computer, Exit Music (For a Film). How's that?

Same for the Eighties. This one got banned by the BBC, which is always a good recommendation, and it still makes me want to turn the volume up full bore and start dancing: Frankie Goes to Hollywood playing Relax.

But as for the Seventies. Well, almost every song I listen to from that period is a nostalgia trap and I'm not quite sure how to get past that: 10CC's I'm Not in Love or Life is a Minestrone, The Cream, Yes, Kraftwerk, The Stones, Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Velvet Underground, Joan Armatrading and on and on and on. It might be easier to cheat and give a nod to Whispering Bob Harris (and The Old Grey Whistle Test) or John Peel as 'channellers' of great music. However, no cheating here, and so I'm going to plump for the band and the track that has had such an impact on me I featured the song in my second novel, The Grease Monkey's Tale: Bob Marley & The Wailers performing No Woman, No Cry on the Live! album. Definitely one of my favourites of all time. And to think that I passed up the opportunity to see this band playing in my home town when I was 17 because I hadn't heard of them at the time. A week later I was kicking myself, and have been loving this album - this track - ever since. Enjoy.

Arrived back from a trip to Melbourne and a conference I like to attend whenever I can (although driving for a couple of hours last night through torrential rain and flash floods, I might add, so maybe we're getting the left-overs from NSW's State of Emergency floods).

Anyway, highlights of this year's VATE conference included Lili Wilkinson and Mike Shuttleworth from the Centre for Youth Literature talking about Young Adult fiction.  Given that I spend most of my time immersed in adult fiction, but would like to get back to YA at some point, it was illuminating to hear them talk about some of the genres that YA has slipped into: Dead Girls, Dystopia, Paranormal/Urban Romance and Sexuality.  Thought I should pass on a plug to a couple of websites associated with their work here: the wonderful insideadog.com.au ("a website for young people about books") and a children's picture book exhibition (hard copy and online).

Other highlights included hearing what Thomas Caldwell (here's his Cinema Autopsy blog if you're interested in film too) had to say about Film and the Age of the Spectacle - isn't it great when someone manages to clearly articulate everything you think you've been thinking about something?! - and, having been a fan of her column in The Age (until she was sacked), listening to Catherine Deveny play with words.  While I thought her claim that she doesn't set out to be thought-provoking or controversial a tad hollow, I enjoyed watching her perform and developing a bit of rhetoric, but was stunned by the defensiveness of a couple of audience members and the apparent refusal to actually hear or understand what she was saying.  (Seeing that I'm plugging everything I enjoyed, here's her website.)

And as for Ramona Koval (presenter of The Book Show on ABC Radio National) who gave the keynote address on The Literary Interview - what an engaging and intelligent personality.  I could have sat and listened to her for another hour at least.  I'm still trying to work out how it is that someone who was brought up through the medium of broken English can become so incredibly articulate (her parents were multilingual but, as migrants, they chose to use the language of their adopted country at home) - and wonder if this approach should be adopted by more parents!  Hmm.  (Here's the ABC's profile on Ramona.)

the poetry of e.e. cummings

I've been a fan of e.e.cummings' poetry since I was a teenager.  I wasted a lot of paper back then trying to write like him.  Every now and then, I find myself dipping back into the two anthologies I own - selected poems 1923-1958 and 73 poems - and rediscovering a few more gems, or reading old favourites in new ways.  Was up to that biz recently when I was working with Literature students on e.e.cummings' work and, must admit, I like them more than ever.

A couple of years back, just as the Snowing and Greening of Thomas Passmore was going to print,  I came across Now i lay(with everywhere around) and thought it would've made a great epigraph if the book needed one, although it was too late to include it anyway.

Two Old Petrol Pumps

Noticed a recurring motif in a couple of pieces of my writing of late: the two old petrol pumps which appear in The Grease Monkey's Tale and which have now made an appearance in Number Three. 

When we were driving through Cape Clear recently, SB said: "There's your petrol pumps." 

I've done this journey numerous times without ever consciously noticing them, but they sure had a passing resemblance, so I took photos of them on the way back - for future reference, like.

Guest blog: Mixing it up with Gary Davison, author of Fat Tuesday and Streakers

Right we're at it again, Paul and I, amusing ourselves on our blogs. This time it's music. 70s, 80s, noughties - I wasn't a huge fan of music, but the 90s - that was a rave time for us, so plenty of memories (or not as the case was back then) for that decade.

70s. When this record came out, I was only nine years old and I was idolising the Sex Pistols and Sham 69. Since its release in 1979, I have listened to it and loved it many times and will in the future. Another Brick in the Wall - Pink Floyd.

80s - the time when I left school and generally had a good time of it. Like A Virgin by Madonna was a favourite, as was, You got to fight for Your right to Party - Beastie boys, Buffalo Stance - Nenah Cherry, but my favourite, in 1989, just before it all went crazy, was Pump up the Jam - technotronic.

90s - This was my biggest decade for music and when the rave scene swept the country. Adamski - killer, EMF - unbelievable, 2 Unlimited - Get Ready For This, Everybody's Free - Rozalla, Shades of Rhythm, the Prodigy - fire starter, where do I end? On the best, and the one that had us all cutting a rug and making shapes the most: What Time Is Love - KLF. Fantastic time was had by all, mostly in farmer's fields, but still.

00s - In the noughties, there are a few artists I particularly like, and a few songs that stand out. Eminem - Lose Yourself, was a cracker, Drop it like it's hot - Snoop Dog, but my star of this decade is Lady Gaga. Anyone that goes to graft with a telephone on their head wearing a dress made of meat is sound by me. And I like her music.

Hope you enjoyed that blast from the past as much as I did. Has fifteen years really passed?

Cheers, Gary. You can visit Gary's blog and website here and find his books on Amazon here.

Bill's Birthday

It's William Blake's 253rd birthday today, which I celebrate every year (here's a previous celebratory blog).  Thought I might do this today with a couple of his darker Songs of Experience... and the ghost image.  Great stuff!

The SICK ROSE
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,


Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.


The GARDEN of LOVE
I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I had never seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.


And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And "Thou shalt not" writ over the door:
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore:


And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be;
And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys & desires.