Luica’s Blog

It’s quite an unusual choice of book for me, but the fact is I thoroughly enjoyed it and would highly recommend it to my girl friends.

Lucy Mangan’s Hopscotch & Handbags first came to my attention via an edited extract in the Guardian Weekend magazine. I was immediately won over by Lucy’s witty and sharp capturing of female pyschology. I kept smiling when reading it on the train and nodding in agreement in places.

Some of parts that made me chuckle:

On Relationships

Feminists may weep, but we must face facts: from the age of about eight onwards (later if you are posh and have ponies to obsess about and so can sublimate your sexual urges by competing in gymkhanas), the race is on to get a boyfriend.

This doesn’t have to mean much. To any suitably determined and self-confident prepubescent, any one of the following circumstances will entitle you to call an unsuspecting lad your boyfriend:

• He spoke to you.
• He looked at you.
• He ignored you - but that’s because he is shy and not because he is three years behind you in maturity and would notice you only if you were made entirely of footballs and sherbet fountains.
• He was nice to you.
• He was horrible to you - in a clever attempt to disguise the tender inclinations he harbours towards you.
• The teacher made you partners with him for a broad bean-growing experiment and your romantic connection grows with every daily progress report you write together.
• You bumped into him on the street out of school hours and he recognised you.
• You haven’t left his side for nine days and in the absence of a judge’s willingness to grant restraining orders to pre-teens, he must, for the sake of his mental health and classroom reputation, give a gloss of respectability to the situation by letting it be known that you are his girlfriend.
• You just told everyone that he is your boyfriend and if he doesn’t agree, well, it’s 28 against one, so there.

10 Favourite Topics of Conversation for New Mums

1. Sleep
2. Blood
3. Shit
4. Sleep
5. Tears
6. Sleep
7. Vomit
8. Any story that starts, ‘The doctor said he’d never seen anything like it …’
9. Any story that ends, ‘And then the rest just dropped out in my hand!’
10. Any story that contains the phrase, ‘… it was like a FIST …’

Mark Haddon’s last novel The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time was a great read for both adults and children; it’s original, funny and well-composed. His second book A Spot of Bother may not be as brilliant, but it’s definitely worth reading.

A Spot of bother is hardly an upbeat, pleasant story but it’s very well-written. It’s not light-hearted to read about a depressed old man cutting bits off his body with a pair of scissors, after witnessing his wife in bed with his ex-colleague. However, I admire Mark for his talent in describing situations and emotions, and his extreme attention to detail. There were times when the scenes became a bit too graphic and embarrassing to read but at the same time, it also shows off Mark’s powerful observation and realistic description.

Reading A Spot of Bothet is almost like watching The Office - it’s painfully embarrassing, yet you can’t resist it. In the end, you just can’t help butt love it and feel sorry for the characters.

Dan Rhodes‘ fourth book (including The Little White Car - writing as Danuta de Rhodes).

Gold is easy to read and well written, but I can’t say I enjoyed it as much as Timoleon Vieta Come Home, which brought tears to my eyes in places. Gold is a good read if you are looking for something to kill time on long journeys but it’s hard to put it in the same league as Dan’s impressive but depressing story of a dog.

I liked the way the characters were crafted; realistic, imperfect but lovable. I especially admired Dan’s attention to detail of the background characters. I warmed to Mr. Edwards even though he was a man of few words and ‘Holy Mackerel‘ was the only line he had. Sceptic Barry’s dental nurse girlfriend had slightly more lines than Mr. Edwards and was often just a smiley face behind the bar, but I liked her all the same simply because of the clever dialogue Dan created.

Lastly, if Timoleon Vieta Come Home is a five-star novel, Gold probably deserves three stars as I like it for its realistic and charming characters.

I haven’t enjoyed reading a novel so much for a little while. Donna Tartt’s story of a group of twenty-somethings’ dark past is clevely plotted and beautifully written. It was an amazing experience with plenty of suspense, getting to know the characters and trying to get into their minds. I couldn’t wait to find out what happened next, but at the end of the book, I slowed down hoping to prolong the enjoyment.

The biggest attration for me was that I felt for most of the characters, even Bunny; I couldn’t help but have a sense of loss when he was gone. It was disheartening to see an innocent experiment somehow turn into a monstrous act, and even worse, turned a group of friends against each other. The ugliness of distrust was remarkably described; sharp and unmistaken. Like Richard, I was hoping that the series of incidents would only strengthen the bond between the group. That’s why it was even more painful to see them drift apart. The indifference and isolation was almost unbearable.

The Secret History remined me of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies. It was shocking to see innocent kids group together to kill, but the emotion was much stronger when I was absorbed into the pyschology of the quiet, manupulative Herny and the nervous, desperate Charles in The Secret History.

4.5 of 5 stars

A collection of Michael Gardiner’s short stories which takes us into the heart of 21st Century Japanese culture. Beautifully written and accurately observed, each of the 19 stories gives us brief insights into the Japanese belief in education (or should I say obsession in prestigious universities?), the duties and roles of men and women, and relationships between people in the digital age.

Linked by a common theme of receiving the best education, none of the heroes or heroines are satisfied with their life. While some would give up dignity, freedom and pretty much everything to get through university, the graduates were doubtful of how far a decent degree can take them – in terms of developing a successful career or building a happy family.

One of the most extreme stories is the ‘Model‘ who lived under 24-hour surveillance so that she could pay her way through one of the most prestigious universities. The graduate in ‘Escalator‘ still worried about the uncertainty of his future, and the tramp in ‘Diamond‘ was once a respectable graduate with a desirable job but ended up living on the street and being abandoned by his family.

I was especially touched by the loneliness and dejection in ‘Exchange‘ and ‘Birthday‘ where isolation was extremely painful and yet wasn’t over dramatised.

I have been living in the East End from the day I arrived in London and I have always preferred it to the less characteristic West. In Dalston, we had a spacious, cool house which was converted from an old factory, but the surroundings were a bit scary and we were never keen to go out after dark. I was always tempted by some of the best kebab shops in London, nevertheless.

It was not uncommon to hear stories about people being stabbed to death at the number 38 bus stop during the day and some guy opening fire at the local McDonald’s. We felt much safer when we moved to a gated community in Bow, where we swapped the exciting area and exotic restaurants for a communal garden, swimming pool and gym.

Both of these places are mentioned in Tarquin Hall’s Salaam Brick Lane, which I was totally engaged by. It took me less than a week to finish this amazing description of East Enders’ lives; I could hardly put the book down and when I came to the end, I really wished I had read it slowly.

I was fascinated by most of the stories and was particularly interested in reading the East End references including the famous (or infamous) Kray twins. As I used to hang out around Brick Lane, it was nostalgic to read about the curry houses, the Jewish beigel (bagel) bakeries, Spitalfields and the Columbia Road Flower Market.

I may go back this weekend.

A renowned radio presenter, Xinran, shared her collection of stories which she’d heard during a journey of exploring and understanding women’s status over the past 50 years in China. It was an extremely touching and disheartening journey — I almost cried a couple of times while I was reading it on the train.

Most of the heroines Xinran had encountered were horribly abused and shamelessly used by men; some of these men were complete strangers while the others were closely related to the female victims. Some of women failed to find a way out of their unbearable situations and ended up losing thier minds or committing suicide; in the worst case both. The luckier ones were not even aware of the possibility of a different kind of life and saw history repeating itself with their daughters and granddaughters without a word of compliant…

FRATIRE

n. A newly popular genre of paperback literautre mixing elements of memoir and fiction, generally featuring college humour, cheap beer and softcore recreational sex. Sometimes called dick lit, it’s chick lit for men.

Source: Wired magazine - August 2006

A new piece of jargon I learnt from Wired magazine, which is quite timely as I had just finished reading Iain Hollingshead’s debut novel Twenty Something, a prefect example of Fratire.

A thirty-something female friend called it ‘lad lit’ (more English, I guess) without even reading through the first few pages, but you certainly don’t have to be a lad to enjoy it. Hollingshead’s satire and wittiness really made me laugh (out loud) throughout the book. His persona, Jack Lancaster’s city experience was equally as messed up as his (very) brief adventure in politics.

It is witty, funny and easy to read. The only criticism I have is the slightly cheesy ending; surely it wasn’t because we believe that good things happen in the New Year, in particualr to someone who had a tough year playing Jerry Maguire in the office, running around naked at a Polo game and ruining the reputation of the Conservative party single-handedly with a rude letter.

It is dark and depressing but beautifully written and addictive.

Musician-cum-novelist Willy Vlautin’s debut novel is an extraordinary description of the bond between two brothers, Frank and Jerry Lee, who tried to lead a normal life together after their young mother’s premature death.

I’ve never been to the mid-west USA, and I had never imagined what it would be like being permanent residents of motels. But I certainly felt like I’d known the place and the characters for years after finishing the book. The images of the story were so vivid in my mind that I was convinced I’ve seen the story in a film.

A sad ending was only realistic given their situation was so desparate but a light at the end of the tunnel wasn’t that far away either. I really want to know what happens next to the survivors as I care about them even though they are fictional.

4.5 stars out of 5 - sorry Dave!

A journal style novel which recalls a series of e-romances of Trevor’s cyber persona ‘Lord Brett Sinclair’. The attraction of a journal style novel is to satisfy our curiousity of other people’s lives; there are no unnecessary descriptions of detail and focuses on the incidents and feelings. This is exactly why Bridget Jones’ Diary was a big success - it was also due to the fact that Bridget was embarassing yet hilarious (a bit like David Brent in The Office), and Helen Fielding is a gifted writer with great sense of humour.

Unfortunately, Dave Roberts’ E-Luv is not in the same league. His ‘adventures’ might be a little unusual but nothing unheard of - if anyone who is ready to throw themselves into trouble like Trevor does, anything could happen. It was not witty when he invited his cyber lover and her daughter (from across the Atlantic) to move in with him whilst being dishonest about his appearance, medical situation and pretty much everything else. It was painful to read but not especially funny.

Two stars out of five - if it was published five years ago before the many ridiculous e-romances were exposed in tabloid media, it would have been more amusing.