Monday, 11 July 2011

Inkheart, by Cornelia Funke



I read Inkheart.  It was good.  Very good in fact.  I'd heard that it was good, but it was one of those that I'm afraid I felt a little snobby about - all I knew of it was that it had been made into a film starring Brendan Fraser, and that small fact set me against it a little bit.  I suppose I imagined that I might end up reading something as time-wasting as California Man!  But of course, Brendan Fraser's not in the book, and the character that he played, Mortimer Folchart, did not resemble him at all, to me at any rate.

Apart from Brendan Fraser's link, I knew nothing about the story really, except perhaps something about characters from a book being read into reality.  And essentially, that was the bones of the book.  It's about books, reading them and bringing them to life.  It's a book for people who love books, and who love disappearing into them.  Each chapter begins with a quotation from another story, which is a lovely touch.  Each quotation has been carefully selected, and they really do add something to the story and to our understanding of it.  It was a joy to read these quotes, and to see that so many of my favourite books were included.  And actually, it was a good one to read after writing that hub on what constitutes a good book, because it confirmed my suspicions that our choices are our own business and never anything to be ashamed of!  We read to allow our imaginations to travel to a different place and time, and whether we go to a place of fantasy and magic, or only as far as a different country in our own world, it's all valid, all important.

Inkheart is a simple story, really not much to it at all, but it is beautifully executed.  I was gripped from the first page, by the writing initially, and then by the story itself once I got into the flow.  We're kept in the dark about just enough of the story, but not too much that we start to lose interest.  For instance, the mysterious character of Dustfinger appears at the beginning, and we don't know who he is or what he wants from Mo and Meggie.  But we can suspect that it is something to do with the book, we know that much, and that is enough.  The book I am reading at the moment, Red Gloves, just keeps me in the dark a little too much, and I find it frustrating.  Every character has a secret, and we find out that there are several secrets in quick succession; as yet no-one's telling, and I'm almost near the end of the book.  I do hope that everyone's secret will not be told all at once in a horribly contrived chapter of revelation.  On the other hand, I do hope that I will be told the secrets after putting in the effort of reading to the end!  But I'll write about that book once I've finished it, hopefully tomorrow actually.  It's not all good.

The writing in Inkheart is very ... mm, delicate I suppose.  I'm not quite sure what I mean by that, but I'm just left with a feeling of Cornelia Funke's words being gentle.  She's written the story with a lot of love, and it's a precious thing to her.  That seems strange, because there's quite a lot of thrilling suspense (as thrilling and suspenseful as it's possible for a children's book to be) and lots of descriptions about the things that Capricorn had done to his victims and those who did not submit to him.  But that is the feeling I'm left with, of a book that just flows beautifully.  There was a little bit in the middle when I felt that the pace had slowed horribly and that the story was becoming a little repetitive, but that was because I was very tired, and was only managing to read three pages before going to sleep: the fault was mine, and not Funke's!  I soon realised that I'd been mistaken in thinking that it was all going wrong.  The end was superb, and although I had seen it coming, it was satisfying to see it played out.  I wasn't entirely happy with the sudden appearance of blue fairies, but I suppose we'd had warning of them from early on, so I can't really complain.  They just seemed a little Disneyesque - and Tinkerbell certainly was, despite her being read from a book and not an animated film.  Maybe that's just me being fussy though, as the fairies in my book are so much more than just fluttery butterfly creatures that twinkle and tinkle.

I was happy to find that the character of Meggie grew throughout the book - I had found her a little whiny at the beginning, and did want her to grow up a bit and find her backbone; she did that, and it happened naturally and convincingly.

In fact, the real strength of the story is in its characters.  We hear a great deal of their thoughts, of almost everyone's thoughts.  Funke contrives reasons for each of the main characters to be alone at times when it's important for us to know what they're thinking.  Perspective changes very frequently, and at first I was alarmed by this, as a new writer myself, because I thought that we weren't supposed to do that!!  I thought we were supposed to stick to one perspective, and only have access to one person's thoughts.  Now I've seen how switching perspective can be done very skillfully, and can be used very effectively.  We know each of the main (goodie) characters very well because of this.  We don't know the baddies so well, because we never go into their minds.  This keeps them remote, and prevents us from sympathising with them because we can't know their motivation for their actions.  Red Gloves has a shifting perspective too, but it's done slightly differently, but just as effectively.  I didn't like it at first, found it too confusing; I'm used to it now, and actually think it's very cleverly executed.

So, Inkheart, very good.  It had a similar feel to  Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials, but on a much smaller scale.  Meggie had some of the same kind of pluck as Lyra, although I liked Lyra immediately whereas it took me longer to take to Meggie (I think it was probably only because her name annoyed me, as I thought it was a little babyish!).

I will have to wait for quite a while to read Inkspell and Inkdeath, since they're not on my list!  Must stick to the list; don't know why, I just must ...

Monday, 27 June 2011

What Constitutes a Good Book?

I wrote this hub.  The title speaks for itself.

http://hubpages.com/hub/What-Constitutes-a-Good-Book

Now, strictly speaking, it should have been posted on this blog.  But no-one really reads this blog, so I thought it would get more traffic if I posted it as a hub.  I think I was right.  I suppose you might be thinking that I could have posted it in two places?  Well, HubPages doesn't allow duplicate content, even if you've acknowledged that you've published something in two places and said that the work is all your own.  That's fair enough, I have no complaints about that, they want the content of the articles they promote to be unique.  I am allowed to post a link to my hub though, so you can still read it from here.  It just doesn't have the nice background picture that this blog has.  I did put some other pictures in though, of some nice bookcases, in the hopes that I could placate you a little.

So, incase you didn't spot it above, here's the link to my hub on 'What Constitutes a Good Book?':

http://hubpages.com/hub/What-Constitutes-a-Good-Book

If you read it, please feel free to leave a comment - you don't have to be a member of HubPages to leave a comment.

Tuesday, 31 May 2011

It's just too ha-a-aaaard!

What's the point in ever reading anything else?  I'll never be 'well-read' because all I want to read for the rest of my life is Harry Potter!  Ugh-huh-huh-huuuuuuh (that's me sobbing)!  There's nothing left for me now, if I can't read Harry, I can't go on.

Sniff.

Well, actually I can.  It's a never-ending-story, and I will read it again in a few months.  But I have to exert a supreme effort to not run to the bookcase and pull out Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.  It's sitting there, calling to me, and begging me to read it again, even though I only finished its sibling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, this morning.  I'm always like this when I've finished these books, sitting about the house, moping, gazing longingly at my beautiful, black covered, hard-backed set of precious gems.  If my house was on fire and I had time to nip back in and save a couple of things - after removing my children from the building, of course - I would grab my MacBook and my boxed set of Harry Potters.

So, I've put a plan into action, to prevent me from picking up that book that's taunting me with its beauty and magic: I've written a list of ten books, that the boys chose for me, and I've stuck it to my bookcase, and the boys have witnessed it, and I have to tick off the books as I read them.  Then, and only then, can I be treated to Harry Potter again.


The books are these:


  • Soul Music, by Terry Pratchett (which I was very pleased that Thomas chose, because something light and comical that I can get through in a few evenings will cheer me up after my loss (of Harry))
  • Inkheart, by Cornelia Funke (which I have been meaning to read for quite some time, and has been on my list for ages)
  • Red Gloves, by Beth Vaughan (which I know nothing about, but which was recommended by one of my favourite authors, Kristin Cashore (who wrote Graceling and Fire), so I expect it to be good - at least, I think she recommended it, I could be having a memory spasm there)
  • Skull and Bones, by John Drake (which has not been on the list for long, but will be a joy to read, I know (see my hub on its prequel: John Drake, Flint and Silver))
  • Faerie Tale, by Raymond E Feist (a book that I found on a website when I did a quick search for fiction with the word 'faerie' in the title - no expectations from this book, we'll see what it's like)
  • The Gormenghast Trilogy, by Mervyn Peake (which I bought several years ago, because it looked pretty: the person on the till who sold it to me looked sideways at me when I slammed it thunderously onto the counter (single volume), and she knew that I was oblivious to its contents; I have since heard that The Gormenghast Trilogy is a bit hard going, but that's fine because I will feel as though I've really earned my treat of HP)
  • Catch 22, by Joseph Heller (which I bought several years ago, but forgot to read (it happens a lot); Sebastian Faulks recommended this book in a programme he did a couple of months ago, and this caused me to remember that I had a copy: as to whether I'll enjoy it, I don't know, I expect it to be beyond my meagre intelligence, because I don't think it's got any mythical beasties in it)
  • In The Lion's Court, (a history book) by Derek Wilson (which I bought several years ago; it's been a long time since I read a history book, and I've been missing them, because I love to read about our kings and queens of centuries past: this one is about Henry VIII's court, and what it was like to be an important personage within it, chronicling the lives of six unfortunate Thomases)
  • The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, by Stieg Larsson (which I thought I'd better read, because it's supposed to be excellent, and it might contain some very useful lessons that I need to learn about how to play your cards close to your chest, and to drip feed information to your reader)
  • The Magician's Guild, by Trudi Canavan (which, incidentally, I have two copies of, if anyone wants one; picked it because it looked good)
So there you have it.  Read along with me, if you would like to.  Maybe a little too much fantasy, and no Dickens at all (I know I said I was diving into The Pickwick Papers, but I changed my mind).

I would like to write a review of Harry Potter, but I don't know if I can say anything that hasn't already been said.  I don't know if I can say what I want to say about my favourite books without it being mushy, and without causing myself embarrassment on the off-chance that JK Rowling should read it, and that I should meet her when I'm famous myself.  I will begin a review, but I will not promise to publish it.  I wrote one for Narnia, but CS Lewis is dead, so there was no chance of me embarrassing myself infront of him.

Monday, 9 May 2011

Ah, this sounds about right to me.

When I said that I wanted to become well-read, I think I missed something out of my explanation.  It was something that I hadn't really consciously thought of, but when I read this article below I realised that I should have thought of mentioning it.  And what it is, is that I'm not going to go through someone else's list of 'books to read before you die' and stick rigidly to it just for the look of thing.  I'm not becoming well-read just to impress other people - I'm doing it because I want to, for me, because there are so many wonderful worlds that I want to explore that I have not been setting aside the time for.  I want to become well-read so that my writing will improve, because my imagination will be exercised and stretched.

The Sad Beautiful Fact that We're All Going to Miss Almost Everything

The gist of this article is that we need to acknowledge and understand that we cannot possibly read everything that has ever been written; we cannot even get anywhere close to reading everything.  We can only read a fraction of the whole* of the literature that has ever been produced.  But what are we going to do about that?  Are we going to waste precious time reading books that we think we should read, or are we going to read books that will make us happy and will help us to learn something that is valuable to us?  Should we cut out whole swathes of books, by saying that we'll not bother with a particular genre?  Should we stick to one genre?  Should we be snobs and only allow ourselves to read that which is perceived as worthwhile by prize givers?  Well, I already know what I'm going to do, and it's what I already do - I go to my bookcase, have a browse, and decide what I feel like reading at that moment.  I never put books in a pile and force myself to work my way through it in the order that I've stacked it.  I have to read whatever looks appealing at the time - this way of choosing my next book has never failed me, and I've only put a book back on the shelf unread once in the last few years.  I seem to be quite good at choosing books that are excellent - I don't suppose that's so difficult though: there are a lot of excellent writers out there.

But it's the classics I'm going to be looking at for a while - just as soon as I've finished Potter; almost there now, just getting to the end of Book 5.  I'm going to get stuck right into the Pickwick Papers next.

I suppose I could talk about HP here.  But is there really any point?  I think probably not.  Everyone already knows what they think of it, there are several camps: those who love the books, but hate the films; those who love the books and love the films (that's me); those who can't see what all of the fuss and 'hype' is about; those who think that the films are nice, not fantastic, and wouldn't bother reading the books; those who have no televisions, computers or book shops and are oblivious; those who think that the books are badly written.  Harry Potter has been around for long enough now that we've all chosen our camp, and there are few who would decamp and change their allegiance totally (my brother did - he vowed never to watch the films, but did so this year, and enjoyed them very much).  Personally, the books are one of my very precious treasures, and I love them very, very dearly - almost as much as I love my children.  I will probably read them once of year, or once every two years.  They're a very special treat that I allow myself when I've done some other, more difficult reading.  I do not think that they are badly written at all, I think they are beautifully written.  But since I've been thinking about proofreading (my course material has just arrived, and I should really be reading it right now), this time around I have noticed a few errors, or a few repeated words that stand out, or a few words that just do not seem to convey what I think JK Rowling was trying to say (though how should I know - I guess she knows what she was trying to say better than I do!)  I don't know what that says about me - perhaps that I am starting to look for mistakes where there are none?  I would have thought that Rowling's pubishers use excellent proofreaders.  Well.  Whatever.

Look at that - I said that I probably shouldn't bother talking about HP, and I did anyway.  Idiot.  Anyway, you might not think that HP should be included in a blog about becoming well-read, but I do.  These books make me happy, and I think, I'm not entirely sure because I'm not an expert, but I do think that books are allowed to be enjoyed just because they make us happy.










Some pictures of the covers that I have.  Isn't that annoying that two of them have come out in different sizes?  It would have been much prettier if they'd all been the same size.  Maybe I will try to fix that later.



*A Fraction of the Whole is a superb book, which I just happened to pick up whilst browsing in Waterstones.  I read it with no expectations, but could not put it down.  I might have to read it again and review it for you.  Steve Toltz is the author.  Excellent.  I will look foward to reading more of his work, when he produces some.  Some people didn't like this book at all - but I guess they're well more cleverer than wot I am, so they know best!  Sometimes though, I think people do too much thinking about books - and perhaps, like those of us who are chilled and able to just relax and enjoy a film with all of its flaws, the same should be done with a book.  Books are written by human beings, and are written to entertain and to provoke thought sometimes.  I probably would not be a very good book reviewer because I like to focus too much on the positives; I can acknowledge that there are negatives, but they rarely spoil a book for me.  I can often read a scathing review of a book that I enjoyed, and be left reeling a little by the vitriol that a weaker chapter might have inspired by a particularly angry critic.  I might have noticed the weaker chapter myself, but I don't see why it has to spoil the whole book - nothing is perfect, usually.

Wednesday, 27 April 2011

The Beginning

Have you ever been accused of being well read, and then blushed because you know that you are not?  I have.

But what I decided was that instead of just pretending to be well read, or biting the bullet and telling the truth about not being well read at all, I would get that list-of-books-to-read-before-I-die and start ticking some of them off.

Now, I've discovered that I'm fairly adept at writing a book review, which made me think that it might be a productive and useful thing to do to blog about my mission to become well read.  I could, here, tell you about the books that I read as I go along, and you could, there, marvel at my consistent misunderstanding of characters and plots, and be astounded at my inability to grasp the simplest of issues raised by authors, and my shocking ineptitude when it comes to spotting the ending of the story that everyone else figures out well before the last page.

At the moment I am reading Harry Potter.  I have allowed myself this treat before getting down to the big business of reading some long ignored classics.   And I will have to punctuate such master works as The Pickwick Papers, and the Diaries of Samuel Pepys, with treats by Terry Pratchett and others of my favourites to keep me going.  That's not to say that I expect the process of becoming well read to be a dull one that requires the reader to be given literary snacks along the way; not at all.  Rather that I expect some of the books I choose to be a little... heavy, shall we say, and that I will need to re-stretch my attention span with some lighter bites (sorry, very mixed metaphors there!).  I'm not a genius you see, so I cannot keep up relentless cleverness for months on end - I must be allowed to have time to not think.

Here is my bookcase:

These are not quite all of my books, because I couldn't fit them in the photo.
Also, sorry about the quality of the photo, the light is bad in my dining room.

Over 500 books here, collected over roughly twenty years.  Lots of them have been read, but not nearly as many as should have been read.  Shocking waste of money, or an investment?  Well, at the moment even I would admit that I have wasted my money shockingly.  Time to turn that waste into something more valuable though, time to invest in myself actually.

My MA in English begins in October, and there is much reading to be done before then.  I don't have to have read all of my set books by then, but wouldn't it be great if I had?  Oh yes.  And I might not understand a word of the books - one of them, which I'm already reading in the odd spare minute during the day, is pretty tricky: Genesis, from the Bible.  I barely understand a word, but that's exactly why I have to read the books soon, so that when it's time to read them and write about them for my assignments I will be reading them for the second time and might stand a chance of grasping a little meaning from them.

So, here begins the journey of the little girl who wanted to explore the world from the comfort of her own armchair because she could not afford the airfare.