Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

When a book makes the Wikipedia list of "100 Best Books of All Time", you have certain expectations.

I'm not saying that it was a bad book. It wasn't bad. I just didn't get a lot out of it.

"Things Fall Apart" is set in the period of early colonization of Nigera by the British Empire. It introduces a main character who is, in his youth, successful at all aspects of his tribal life. As he ages, he is plagued more and more by shortcomings in his character which decrease his standing with his tribe.

Basically, it's a tragedy: the descent of a honest, valiant hero into selfishness, depravity, and depression. It's also a pretty honest representation of early missionary methods in Africa and gives us a clue to why they were not really successful.

Ok, so maybe I got a lot out of it. The tragedy of heroism lost on the personal scale was paired with the tragedy of heroism lost on the clan scale (villagers refusing to fight against white people because of the repercussions). There's also an shift in the rationalization process of the main character between the outset and the outcome which I think is a notable feature of the writer's understanding of the transition between tribalism and colonialism in his home country.

Style, my ducks. Can't do much without it. The structure of the writing was a hybrid of "The Catcher in the Rye" and a fantasy story where the writer gets carried away making up words. I realize that all the unknown words were actually a language that is spoken in Nigeria, but often they were not explained at all. There was a bloody glossary at the end, just like there was in the fairy story I wrote in eighth grade. As to "The Catcher in the Rye", many of you have undoubtedly heard me harping on about how I dislike it. It lacked any drops of humour, wit, or fancy that could have enlivened the mood or tone. The metaphors, although accurate and not clichéd, were in most instances unmemorable. At least in Hemingway there was a reference to cojones or someones momma every few pages to keep everyone interested.

Although the literary construction of this novel is crystalline, the style is textbook - dry in its correctness.

Up next: The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner. I am craving something quotable.

Last Chance to See by Douglas Adams

I guess this is a bit of cheating since it's not "literature" as such. I picked this book up partially because I had ben intending to read it and partially because I needed something more light-hearted after the previous two books.

Douglas Adams is a British science fiction writer, best known for his series "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy". "Last Chance to See" is a work of non-fiction, documenting his travels around the globe to view an assortment of the rarest and most vulnerable species left on the planet. It was published in 1990 and contributed greatly to conservation efforts for these animals.

Since there aren't what I'd call "themes" in this book, I've selected an excerpt. While travelling to the island of Komodo in Indonesia to view the infamous Komodo dragon, Mr. Adams writes this;

One of the more disturbing aspects of travel in remote areas is the neccessity of taking your food with you in non-perishable form. For Westerners who are used to getting their chickens wrapped in polythene from the supermarket it is an uncomfortable experience to share a long ride on a small boat with four live chickens who are eyeing you with a deep and dreadful suspicion which you are in no position to allay.

Despite the fact that an Indonesian island chicken has probably had a much more natural and pleasant life than one raised on a battery farm in England, people who wouldn't think twice about buying something oven-readybecome much more upset about a chicken that they've been on a boat with, so there is probably buried in the Western psyche a deep taboo about eating anything you've been introduced to socially.

This frivolity of mood is contrasted by the dire circumstances many of the animals Mr. Adams saw (or didn't see, sometimes).

I really enjoyed this book for it's value to the conservation of these species and because it was like traveling to the most remote parts of the world with a sassy British sci-fi writer (I imagine this is all I've ever wanted out of life anyway).

Up next: I'm hoping to find the book "Things Fall Apart" by Chinua Achebe today. Wish me luck!

For Whom The Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway

I had a very different idea of what Ernest Hemingway was before I read this. The only previous work of his that I read was "The Old Man and the Sea". From that novella and from my knowledge of his lifestyle I had concluded he wrote adventure stories. I interpreted him as a sort of Farley Mowat from the early 20th century. That was wrong of me.

This book has the potential to become a favourite of mine after I read it a few more times (and I know I will). Hemingway's style, unique to himself in his time, has been mimicked by many who came after. His words and sentences are simple and clear, but have a poetic turn of description which softens the edges of what would otherwise be a harsh, unsympathyzing tone. Some writers who have attempted to follow in his stylistic footsteps have gotten carried away with the "poetic" thing and sacrificed clarity in their meanings (Margaret Atwood, I'm looking at you). I realize this requires some explanation. In poetry or poetic prose, the author will often leave certain things unsaid, or say them indirectly to create certain moods or tones or ideas. This is all very well. There is a limit though to how many gaps you can leave in your meaning before a reader will be discouraged from ferreting it out. In "The English Patient", I have to admit I don't know what happens in the end due to this very problem. Perhaps the problem is with me, or it is with the writing. Nevertheless, it detracts from my overall enjoyment of the book.

Hemingway dodges this bullet well. His descriptions, although poetic, are candid and insightful. A specific scene comes to mind - a character tells of the revolutionary take over in a small Spanish town. The fascists were hunted down and executed by their neighbours. I won't say that I felt I was there with them. It was more that I felt I knew and understood each of the dying men and also the executioners. This is a marvellous achievement in communication.

I haven't even said yet what the book is about. Usually when someone asks what a book is about I get so carried away talking about the themes and the style that I forget the plot. It takes place in the heat of the Spanish Civil War in 1937. A mostly fascist faction had seized power from the elected republican government, so the republicans, communists, and other libertarian groups had joined against the fascists to reinstate the republic. The main character, Robert Jordan, is sent behind enemy lines to dynamite a bridge so that a critical attack can advance. He is aided by a group of geurilla republicans who have been hidden in the mountains for many months. I'm not going to ruin the ending for you beyond the fact that the title is an excerpt from John Donne - "And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee".

Now for some themes! The primary one that I extracted is presented early in the book when the main character says "It was much better to be gay and it was a sign of something too. It was like having immortality while you were still alive". (Gay meaning happy here, obviously. Stay with me). In the few days we are with this character, he experiences the most happiness that Hemingway believes can be had when he falls in love with a girl and she loves him back. He says of this love that "There will always be people who say it does not exist because they cannot have it. But I tell you it is true and that you have it and that you are lucky even if you die tomorrow". Robert Jordan knows that they might only have hours to live. In that time he experiences all of friendship and love and happiness that he is able to. He thinks "There is only now, and if now is only two days, then two days is your life and everything in it will be in proportion. This is how you live a life in two days. And if you stop complaining and asking for what you never will get, you will have a good life. A good life is not measured by any biblical span". This is a version of that old philosophy that those who die young have eternal youth. Also I wonder if Robert Jordan would still have thought that about love after five years of marriage, but the book doesn't say.

There are other themes, but none arrested me so strongly as that first one. Themes like fearing death, or cowardice, or the evils of war, and there are several political points buried in there which I will need to dig up sometime. This book is supremely quotable too, which always makes me happy. I love being able to quote things at people because it is like having a good citation in a report. The difference is that it's hard to find peer-reviewed articles on the value of love and the emotional experiences of a truly brave person, so we cite those writers with great minds and hearts. The serious problem with this method is that I am willing to believe anything that is said with enough conviction and style, although it may be meritless.

Overall, I'd tell anyone to read this book. It's helpful to know some Spanish, but I guess "cojones" is a common enough term that most people will get the jokes. Lots of "yo momma" jokes too, which brightened my day considerably. There are some parts where the pacing drags because the main character gets all wrapped up in political introspection, but most of those bits can be easily skipped over (maybe that's why I didn't catch on to the political themes).

I would love to tell you what book I'm reading next, but I haven't gone to the library yet and it's always a crap-shoot to know what they will have available.

The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje

This book first came to my attention when it was adapted into a film in 1996. I never saw the film, but I recall the critical fanfare which surrounded it. I later encountered fans of the book, who were always quick to point out all the awards it had won for being amazing and for being Canadian all at the same time.

I didn't really choose to read this book first this summer. I went to the nearest branch of the Toronto Public Library and filled out the necessary paperwork for a library card with dizzying anticipation. The Rexdale Branch Library is a dismal place: one floor with sparse shelving and fluorescent lights. Most of the space is taken up by the children's literature section and a few computers. I looked (with slightly diminished excitement) for anything that was on my reading list, and along came Ondaatje. They had several of his books there, and none of the others', so I took his home.

The first impression that I had upon finishing the book was that the experience of reading it had been much more memorable than the content itself. I have, after some thought, attributed this to the writing style.

Although there are several central characters who take turns as the narrator, the voice and tone stays consistent throughout. This voice and tone has a poetic, observational quality that creates a type of emotional distance between the reader and the narrator. I believe this was done on purpose by the author, who wished to demonstrate the characters' experiences of each other. Each pair of central characters seems to share a remarkable intimacy, which is revealed by the stories and experiences they tell to each other. This intimacy is always oppressed by a reserve. Although they share extensively about who they have been and what they have done, there is rarely any expression of their inner motives, desires, or reactions to their experiences. The tone of the narration coupled with the detailed exploration of their lives gives me a strong feeling of intimacy lost or missed - like friends who have grown apart or words that were not spoken.

The matter of the book was, I suppose, along this same vein. I think it means to say that in times of great hurt, we reach out for supports. Sometimes we fabricate supports for ourselves out of people, and make them into things that never really existed. Hana believes her English patient is a warrior saint, a man of mystery and power and goodness. In reality he was a spy, a cuckold, and on the wrong side of the war. Her belief was good, although factually baseless, because it helped her recover some sanity and purpose after months of helping soldiers die comfortably.

To be honest, I don't know if I "got" this one. The writing was stylistically beautiful, and as I had said, the experience of reading it was delightful. I can try to assemble themes and meanings for it, but it seems contrived. I sum up my impression thus: He told her everything except for 'why'.