Date: 7th March
Present: Gill, Jen, Nic.
Strictly speaking this wasn't a book group meeting as Nathalie, whose choice this book was, and many others could not make it. Undeterred, Jen, Gill and I met for dinner and a fleeting mention of the book.
The Old Express was ominously quiet when we arrived. I found Jen sat in an empty restaurant, the staff outside having a chat and a cigarette. One of them quickly came in to take an order from me and, when that order was for a gin and tonic, disappeared to get it from somewhere outside the restaurant. Gill arrived shortly after and went straight for the wine, which it appeared they could provide "in-house". Were things looking up? Not entirely. The menus were oddly entitled Main Courses and were presented with apologies as they were missing the pies for which Old Express is, apparently, famous. However, the smiling waitress graciously offered to provide pies, off menu, if required, as they were the reason Jen had opted to return to our 2008 Mr Y venue. The pie, duly received, seemed to more than satisfy Jen and was eaten with big smiles and chips. My burger was acceptable; the onions rings excellent. Gill's fish and chips went down pretty well, if memory serves. Then we were offered coffee and / or the bill. Thus it transpired there was no "Starter" menu and no "Dessert" menu. So the "Main Course" menu was, in fact, "The Menu".
The chat was more plentiful than the food options, however, especially after we'd reviewed the book with a few short sentences such as:
"It wasn't funny."
"They were just dysfunctional."
"It was uncomfortable, like The Office."
"I just don't understand why people think it is hilarious."
And thus, glowing reviews are reserved only for the company this evening: food and book were mediocre. The calvados at The Only Running Footman was warming and enjoyable though, so warming, in fact, that Jen and I sat at an outdoor table for several, necessitating Jen taking a later train. That's unusual, I hear you say.
Friends, book discussions, food matching and food sharing. A private book group. Warning: may contain spoilers.
Friday, 30 March 2012
Thursday, 8 March 2012
#62 - Giovanni's Room - James Baldwin (Choice: Carl's)(Venue: Balans, 60 Old Compton St)
7th February
Present: Carl, Alex, Nathalie, Gill, Jane, Jen
I was dismayed to miss this gathering because I've never been to Balans proper, only to the cafe down the road which was but a pale imitation of the original, if the reputation (i.e. word of Carl and Alex) that precedes the original is to be believed. So, I envisage that, this night, the cocktails flowed freely and the food was enjoyed by all, which is quite my favourite kind of night.
I was also, of course, disappointed to miss what has been reported as an excellent discussion, with Gill, in particular, allegedly vocal in her strong dislike of the protagonist. And who can blame her? Certainly not me.
David lied to Giovanni, to Hella, to Jacques, to his father, to himself. He was selfish, thoughtless, dishonest and mean-spirited. Few of the other characters fared much better: Hella was trite and would have been easily dismissed had she not exuded a level of homophobia that made her decidedly unattractive; Guillaume was simply horrible, leaving the reader (well, me) quite unmoved at his violent end; Giovanni was a preening peacock contrarily riddled with insecurities and unreasonably demanding; and Sue was a self-made victim albeit with a level of awareness and sadness that engendered some symathy for her poor treatment by vile David. Jacques, for me, was the character who was most sympathetic; he was the first character with whom I engaged and the only one for whom I felt a glimmer of emotion. As Jacques questioned David about why David found his lifestyle so sordid, I empathised with Jacques and with the lifestyle he was forced to live by the prejudices that surrounded him and the fears that consequently crippled his emotional and physical life and the lives of those with whom he might otherwise have found happiness instead of brief and nervous relief.
The Paris and the time portrayed in this novel were bleak and depressing. Theses people lived underground, fearful and guarded, hiding their true selves from most people, unaccepted in society and largely unaccepting of themselves. Bleak, bleak times from which it is easy, living in London and working in Soho, to think that we have moved on. However, London in general and Soho in particular are not reflective of the whole of the UK and the UK is, in any event, a million miles removed from many other places in the world. In the USA, according to a map doing the rounds on Facebook, there are significantly more States where you can legally marry your first cousin than your same-sex partner; whilst much of Africa outlaws homosexuality and Uganda debates an anti-gay bill that would introduce the death penalty or life imprisonment for certain "offences". Last night on UK television, Milo Yiannopoulos, a gay Christian writer for the Catholic Herald left me with the impression he found homosexuality distateful and shaming in much the way as the characters in this book so perhaps things haven't changed as much as we would like. Milo did not come across as a happy man and his religion appeared to offer no comfort and, perhaps, the opposite. So this tiny tome has contemporary as well as historical resonance and is all the more depressing for it.
The dispiriting nature of the book was amplified, for me, because it was so dense and verbose. David seemed able to reflect interminably upon his life but without gaining any insights into his nature, without any intention of changing, and without giving any regard to the place of others within his life or to the effect he may have had upon them. Having such an unattractive protagonist makes it hard for me to engage with a book.
The book did not tell us what actually happened to Guillaume, only what David said he could picture, speculate at having happened. He was little enough friend to Giovanni at any time but how much less at the end than ever before. Here's what I like to think: David killed Guillaume and framed Giovanni to rid himself of two unpleasant reminders of a past (and unlived future) he chose to hide. Oooh, he's starting to become a villian I could love to hate.
This might be one of those books that gets better the more one thinks about it and discusses it: more enjoyable with hindsight than in the moment.
Present: Carl, Alex, Nathalie, Gill, Jane, Jen
I was dismayed to miss this gathering because I've never been to Balans proper, only to the cafe down the road which was but a pale imitation of the original, if the reputation (i.e. word of Carl and Alex) that precedes the original is to be believed. So, I envisage that, this night, the cocktails flowed freely and the food was enjoyed by all, which is quite my favourite kind of night.
I was also, of course, disappointed to miss what has been reported as an excellent discussion, with Gill, in particular, allegedly vocal in her strong dislike of the protagonist. And who can blame her? Certainly not me.
David lied to Giovanni, to Hella, to Jacques, to his father, to himself. He was selfish, thoughtless, dishonest and mean-spirited. Few of the other characters fared much better: Hella was trite and would have been easily dismissed had she not exuded a level of homophobia that made her decidedly unattractive; Guillaume was simply horrible, leaving the reader (well, me) quite unmoved at his violent end; Giovanni was a preening peacock contrarily riddled with insecurities and unreasonably demanding; and Sue was a self-made victim albeit with a level of awareness and sadness that engendered some symathy for her poor treatment by vile David. Jacques, for me, was the character who was most sympathetic; he was the first character with whom I engaged and the only one for whom I felt a glimmer of emotion. As Jacques questioned David about why David found his lifestyle so sordid, I empathised with Jacques and with the lifestyle he was forced to live by the prejudices that surrounded him and the fears that consequently crippled his emotional and physical life and the lives of those with whom he might otherwise have found happiness instead of brief and nervous relief.
The Paris and the time portrayed in this novel were bleak and depressing. Theses people lived underground, fearful and guarded, hiding their true selves from most people, unaccepted in society and largely unaccepting of themselves. Bleak, bleak times from which it is easy, living in London and working in Soho, to think that we have moved on. However, London in general and Soho in particular are not reflective of the whole of the UK and the UK is, in any event, a million miles removed from many other places in the world. In the USA, according to a map doing the rounds on Facebook, there are significantly more States where you can legally marry your first cousin than your same-sex partner; whilst much of Africa outlaws homosexuality and Uganda debates an anti-gay bill that would introduce the death penalty or life imprisonment for certain "offences". Last night on UK television, Milo Yiannopoulos, a gay Christian writer for the Catholic Herald left me with the impression he found homosexuality distateful and shaming in much the way as the characters in this book so perhaps things haven't changed as much as we would like. Milo did not come across as a happy man and his religion appeared to offer no comfort and, perhaps, the opposite. So this tiny tome has contemporary as well as historical resonance and is all the more depressing for it.
The dispiriting nature of the book was amplified, for me, because it was so dense and verbose. David seemed able to reflect interminably upon his life but without gaining any insights into his nature, without any intention of changing, and without giving any regard to the place of others within his life or to the effect he may have had upon them. Having such an unattractive protagonist makes it hard for me to engage with a book.
The book did not tell us what actually happened to Guillaume, only what David said he could picture, speculate at having happened. He was little enough friend to Giovanni at any time but how much less at the end than ever before. Here's what I like to think: David killed Guillaume and framed Giovanni to rid himself of two unpleasant reminders of a past (and unlived future) he chose to hide. Oooh, he's starting to become a villian I could love to hate.
This might be one of those books that gets better the more one thinks about it and discusses it: more enjoyable with hindsight than in the moment.
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