#72 - City of Thieves - David Benioff (Choice: Jane)(Venue: Yauatcha)

March 7, 2013

Present: Jane, Gill, Jen, Nic

A rare book group appearance by Jane, who undoubtedly travels furthest to get here - Mexico City's loss is our gain and delight.

Mark couldn't make it but sent comments: "... very much enjoyed the book and am a little bit in love with one of the characters!". It transpired that Gill, too, was in love with Kolya. Well, I didn't see that coming, any more than he saw the bullet that hit his arse! Entertaining in print, irritating as a really serious irritant in real-life, I suspect, especially if you were female.

Jane and Jen were not in love with Kolya but did love the book. I didn't, though I found it hard to express why. It had everything a compelling book should have: a transformative adventure, a hapless young hero, a more mature guide, vile villains and virtuous victims, a quest, an astonishing mix of comic, tragi-comic and downright tragic events, snippets of breath-stopping information about the siege of Leningrad that we had never known and the shocking recollection that it was a true story. Something about the style - the simplicity? - failed to engage me as much as that story would have done in other hands but it was, possibly, that same quality that set up a juxtaposition between the complexity of human nature and the simplicity of the telling that beguiled others.

The book was declared a winner, the food was delicious, the service was abysmal (well, I do love to say I told you so). Seeing Jane is priceless. For everything else, there's Mastercard and it does take a hammering at Yauatcha.

#71 - Bring Up The Bodies - Hilary Mantel (Choice: Gill)(Venue: The Perkin Reveller, The Tower of London)

18th February 2013
Present: Mark, Jen, Gill, Nic.

Well, good wife Gill has, uncharacteristically for a woman of Henry's reign, thrown down the gauntlet and what a challenge it is. This has to be a firm favourite for most apt venue of the year.  We dined at the Wharf of the Tower of London, through which Ann probably passed, where Thomas had been so often, on ground that probably had shaken beneath Henry's feet and, returning to earth, we drank beer out of jugs and goblets, bathed in candle light! 

So I had to send my food back.  So we'd probably never return.  So what, I ask you?  I was looking at Tower Bridge as I waited for my replacement meal to arrive!

Mark, Gill and I had finished and loved this book.  Jen was enjoying it but was preoccupied by the number of characters and compelled to keep flicking to the frightening list of dramatis personae and selection of maps at the opening of the book, unhelped by the fact that she had not read the Woolf Hall, the first in this series.  Ignore it, was our advice.  The main players are so clearly written and so well-formed that, over the course of the book, you get to know and identify them and build up a full picture of them without this and, if a character is so minor that you cannot place them, their story little matters.  Relax, enjoy. 

This is a huge novel but is only physically weighty: the writing is adept and flowing and the plot marches along with a reassuring rhythm - slow enough that one can take everything in, pacy enough that you keep on turning the page.  We could (and did) find faults but they were nit-picky and in no way marred the experience of this tremendous read.  We liked Mantel's way of referencing Cromwell as He - she did it in the first book and it worked.  We disliked the fact that she seemed to lose faith this time, using "He, Cromwell," too often - the context always indicated who it was and it felt heavy-handed.  A small gripe indeed.

Thomas is more majestic that Henry: calm, deliberate, hard, mean, determined, loving, romantic, giving and gentle in turn; always in control.  As Kipling could have written about Thomas: "If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you ...".  Many did and it was often his fault.  As to Thomas keeping his head ... well, that is book three and we cannot wait to read it albeit the anticipation is marred by the knowledge that there cannot be a fourth.

#70 - The Code of the Woosters - PG Wodehouse (Choice: Doris)(Venue: Sartoria, Mayfair)

Thursday January 17th 2013
Present: Doris, Gill, Jen, Nic and special guest Katy

I trotted up and down Saville Row, in Bertie's stomping ground of Mayfair, twice before managing to find Sartoria - hidden in plain view much as Jeeves suggested the Cow Creamer should be.

The tonic in my gin-and was lacking sparkle but nothing else about this evening fell flat, well, until the strudel (but let's not dwell on that tart end to the evening - boom boom). 

Wodehouse's book was generally considered a belter.  I was, perhaps, the most dissenting voice, finding it, ultimately, too frothy: feel-good without self-improvement, a giggle without learning.  I don't like being lectured too (See The Children's Book) but I do like to feel that a book as been in some small way transforming, thought-provoking.  Wodehouse is undoubtedly a master of the English language, weaving an entire novel from nothing more than a few, flimsy, fortuitous or otherwise, coincidences and his skilled wordplay but it left me wanting something a little more heavy-weight.  I would read another but not with the same enthusiasm as everyone else. 

I would return to Sartoria with greater enthusiasm.  The staff were gracious and attentive and impressed with Jen's Italian skills.  Starters and main courses were delightful and the wine ... well, it flowed freely, especially after the sommelier took a shine to us sharing (i) his thoughts on authors and books as well as (ii) some bin ends we didn't order and which didn't appear on the bill .  All in all, he helped ensure a night that was memorable, albeit in the best of hazy ways.  The following morning found us all suffering much as Betie did after Gussie Fink-Nottle's bachelor party and in need of one of Jeeve's patent morning revivers and vowing to be more abstemious than Aunt Agatha next month.

Christmas 2012 - Tuesday December 11th

Venue: Cay Tre, Soho
Present: Jen, Nic, Carl, Jane, Gill, Mark

A good turn-out, which would have been better if Shubha didn't still have post-pregnancy brain and hadn't been at home in her jimjams at the appointed time!  We shared a selection of delicious, fresh and full flavoured Vietnamese starters and mains between us and demolished a round of cocktails and 5, possibly 6, bottles of white wine and a carafe of red while we decided the following:

1. General attendance this year has been dismal; we need to pull our socks up next year.
2. Some of us had barely read the book group books this year; more socks needing to be pulled in an upwards direction - you know who you are.  I wouldn't shame you here, Mark.  Oops.
3. Votes on the night (so far as I can decipher) were as follows:

Book of the Year:
Great Expectations took it by a nose but it was a hard fought contest with votes for Giovanni's Room, Revolutionary Road, The Sheltering Sky and The Tortoise and the Hare too.  So many contenders makes 2012 a better book year than 2011!

Blooper of the Year:
Naked took it but there were votes for The Sheltering Sky and The Suspicions of Mr Whicher.

Best (nicest) Character:
Joe, Great Expectations

Best (worst) Character:
Ignatious, A Confederacy of Dunces, with votes for Magwitch and for someone (could be practically anyone) from Sheltering Sky!

Most Shocking Moment:
Magwitch in the graveyard with Pip, Great Expectations.

Most Disappointing Book of Promise:
The Suspicions of Mr Whicher

Best Improver:
Giovanni's Room

Best (most apt) Venue:
The Clarence, Suspicions of Mr Whicher

Best Venue (other)
Aldwych, Great Expectations (for unlimited Prosecco)

Best Members:
Gill and Nic - the "turning up" award

Most Apathetic Member:
Shubha - the "declaring you are back then forgetting to come" award.  (Oops and we said we wouldn't shame anyone.)

Honourable Mention:
"Proud to have finished" - Great Expectations and Titus Groan (not a lot of people can say that).

Dishonourable Mention:
"Still the worst book of all time" - Spring Snow.

#69 - The Tortoise and the Hare - Elizabeth Jenkins (Choice: Nic) (Venue: Vivat Bacchus, Farringdon)

29th November 2012
Present: Jane, Gill, Nic

Despite the low turn out we had a prolonged and heated discussion about this one.  We all loved it, despite different takes on the morality of the characters.  We were fascinated by this glimpse of a (mostly) by-gone era and wholly agreed on our distaste for Evelyn.  Our thoughts and loyalties were divided over Imogen and Blanche, however.  Imogen was very much a product of her time: reserved, lacking confidence, deferential, overly concerned with her looks.  In short, lame: a fading beauty with seemingly little else to offer.  Undoubtedly, she was kind, gentle, well-meaning but, also, she was dull; dull, dull, dull, while Blanche, in contrast, proved it was possible to be educated, opinionated and capable - albeit at a price; spinsterhood.

Questions:

Who, then, could blame Blanche Silcox for grabbing the opportunity for physical and emotional closeness with, ahem, both hands.

What loyalty did Blanche owe Imogen and why?  Because they were both women?  We discussed this at length, with some feeling that Evelyn was the only one who owed a duty of loyalty to Imogen and some feeling that Blanche too should have had regard to his married circumstances.

Seeking a more modern context, we compared Imogen with Lady Diana Spencer - conventionally attractive, doe-eyed, dutiful, none-too-bright, considered "appropriate" for The Family and allowed by her family to marry a much older man and a position and responsibility beyond her years - and Blanche Silcox with Camilla Parker Bowles - less attractive by conventional standards but intelligent, forthright and with an unspoken hint that privately, she is happy, nay, raring to, go at it like a rabbit.

We can't help who we fall in love with, "whatever love is" (sticking with the Charles and Di theme!) So, is it wrong for a married person to fall in love with someone else and leave?  We decided no, that is not wrong, that is human but, if the eventuality arises, how one extricates oneself is what counts.  We all know spouses who have left in unbecoming ways, with spiteful and unnecessary words.  Dignity and courtesy at all times, we counsel.  Evelyn did not have that.  Although, in fairness to him, a state that did not come naturally to us, we did recognise that Imogen had given him every reason to believe she would accept another woman in his life, albeit if the affair were conducted discretely and at a distance, neither of which Evelyn managed.

So, Evelyn was a barrister, Blanche and Imogen were women, the cast feasted in London, where cheese was a feature of the meal and so, by protracted argument, we justified our restaurant.  We three are women, Gill is a barrister and there is a magnificent cheese room and turophile at Vivat Bacchus in addition to a splendid wine list, which Evelyn would have adored.

And there we have it, another fabulous night!

#68 - The Sheltering Sky - Paul Bowles (Choice: Mark's)(Venue: Soif, Battersea)

Date: Wednesday, October 24th, 2012

Present: Gill, Shubha, Jen, Nic

"Here's my message.  Everything gets worse."

That's what Paul Bowles said was the message of the book.  Well, it certainly did get worse for the characters in this book.  But, we didn't love the them or, honestly, particularly care.  

This meeting combined discussions of Revolutionary Road and Sheltering Sky.  Gill summed up the view of the four present brilliantly and succinctly as follows:

"So, Revolutionary Road: Thumbs up; Sheltering Sky: Thumbs down."

I wouldn't read this again but I'd go back to Soif any time.  We had three delicious bottles of red from Languedoc a succession of delicious small and medium sized dishes and, for me Jen and Shubha, glasses of delicious liquor too - though Shubha's walnut one was the surprise winner.  Big thumbs up for Soif.

#67 - Revolutionary Road - Richard Yates (Choice: Shubha's)(Venue: Soif, Battersea)

Date: 24th October, 2012 (postponed from 7th September)

Present: Jen, Gill, Shubha, Nic.

"If my work has a theme, I suspect it is a simple one: that most human beings are inescapably alone, and therein lies their tragedy."

Thus said Richard Yates about this novel in 1999: a happy chap, obviously.

There's no denying it is a depressing tale. However, the four of us present tonight enjoyed this book immensely. It may be a contender for the BoOkSCARS book of the year if some of us (well, ok, me) are to be believed.

Richard Yates prose was simple but graceful with not a wasted word and his insight into human beings, their relationships and their motivations was extraordinary. Unlike The Confederacy of Dunces, this novel was populated with characters we all recognised and to some extent identified with. The central couple had drifted, without specific plans, in to a life that disappointed them. The thought they were better than others (but who doesn't sometimes judge others and find them wanting) and they thought they deserved better (and who doesn't sometimes think they deserve more recognition, better pay, a lottery win or some other life-changing good luck). It didn't make them nice people but it made them unfailingly human and definitely not monsters. It was impossible not to care about what happened them and essential to get to the end.  If you've missed this one, I urge you buy it, read it and let's talk about it again at another meeting.

#66 - A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole (Choice: Jane's)(Venue: Bincho Soho)

Date: August 2nd, 2012

Present: Jane, Shubha, Jen, Nic

"I'm back", Shubha announced prior to this meeting, meaning "get ready to drink".  Sadly, Jen and I rather let the side down: after drinking two bottles of Prosecco the night before, it was more luck than judgment that we'd made it at all.  Fortunately, Jane was a much better friend!

Jane changed the venue several times in the half hour before we met but this final choice was a goodie, with skewer after delicious skewer of yakitori goodness, miso soup and daikon salad, washed down with grapefruit or lemon sours, so it seemed like the evening might follow Shubha's intention.  And, with the best of intentions, after dinner, we proceeded to a lovely wine bar of Shubha's choice.  Sadly, despite the undoubtedly charming surrounds, the vast wine list and the delicious wine, after one glass Jen and I admitted hung-over defeat, hair-of-the-dog having failed to revive us, and gave up and walked slowly home while Jane and Shubha partied on.

Meanwhile, the book deserves a word.  And, for me, that word would be "tedious".  Ignatious was a monstrous character - deliberately so, undoubtedly, but too much so to enable me to care what happened to him.  The other characters (at least those introduced before I gave up) were also unpleasant.   Jen found parts of the book very funny.   Jane enjoyed it: having a theory that there was something "North American" about it that she could identify with.  Certainly, Jane "knew" (of rather than personally) people such as those depicted.  The rest of us?  Not so much.  Maybe those people exist but I'm glad I don't know them.

Whilst there's a tragic back story to this novel of an author who committed suicide as a result of depression , which it is at least speculated was contributed to, if not caused by his failure to find a publisher for his book in his life time, personally, I think the agents and publishers who originally turned it down were right.  However, it won him a posthumous Pulitzer in 1981 so what do I know?

P.S. Sept. 13 2023 from Carl: Brilliant! I loved it! Of course it was full of characters to hate but it was just so wonderfully silly. Like the policeman being forced to wear random costumes and the detectives later getting complaints about a man in a sombrero. 

P.P.S Set. 13 2023 from Jen, moments before Carl's comments: Oh yeah! I remember that book, although not the evening which from the blog is not all that surprising.

#65 - The Suspicions of Mr Whicher - Kate Summerscale (Choice: Jen's)(Venue: The Clarence, Whitehall)

Thursday June 28th
Present: Jen, Nic, Carl, Doris, Eamonn, Shubha

Mr Whicher woz 'ere

The Clarence's modern, light decor and bustling, noisy atmosphere belies its age but a sign on the exterior wall indicates that it was established in 1862.  This fact, coupled with its location on the corner of Whitehall and Great Scotland Yard, where Mr Whicher and his fellow Scotland Yard detectives were based, and our romantic dispositions leads us to believe that the great man may have drowned his sorrows here as his suspicions in the Road Hill House murder threatened his reputation and stalled his ascent through the detective ranks.

I planned to be authentic to Whicher's era and enjoy a pint or two of ale for the evening.  However, it was a beautiful sunny evening which, as we strolled to the venue, Carl announced was perfect for a few glasses of chilled white wine.  Jen provided confirmation of this on our arrival and so began the descent.

We were probably three bottles in to the night when Carl drew us to order. 

"Hands up" he said, "if you really loved this book." 

Something in his tone told you his own hand would remain resolutely by his side.  Eamonn ventured to say that he did love this book.  The rest of us looked doubtful. 

"Hands up" Carl continued, "if you thought this book was quite good." 

Still, it was obvious that Carl's arm, like the man himself when reading this book, would remain unmoved.  The rest of us spluttered into life.  We thought the story was interesting but a little detatched: academic, though not well written.  It read like a homework essay.  It was not as compelling as it would have been if it had been written as a fictionalised novel.  Of course, had it been emotionally involving, Jen acknowledges that it is highly likely she would have been unable to finish it as very bad things happen to the child.  In this book though, although his injuries were described graphically, they were presented with detachment, as matter of fact, as something historic.  One felt little involvement, little passion, little empathy with the victim or with any other character, for that matter.  The people 'were', the things 'happened'.  That was it.  True, there were interesting snippets of historical detail.  The fact that the police were so embarrassed on finding a blood-splattered ladies nightgown that they put it back and didn't record it as they did not want to embarrass the owner stands out amongst those but there were others: the fact that even suspecting a young, female child of murder caused such public outcry that it stalled the career of the country's most promising detective; the fact that detectives were so distrusted and considered an intrusion into middle class life; and so on.  Quite what would Victorian England make of where we are now: more spied upon in London by CCTV than communist China.

"Hands up" Carl asked again, "if you thought this book was absolutely awful."

And, finally, his hand twitched.  Of us all, Carl had least praise for this book, frustrated by its dull descriptions, lack of pace and constant references to other works.  All valid criticisms.  One has to accept it for what it is.  This book is a string of quite interesting facts in search of a compelling narrative. 

And we, several hours after we started out, were a string of drunks in search of the quickest way home and ebook versions of The Woman in White and The Moonstone (re-reading for some Wilkie fans, the first time for others).  Not our official next books but ones we might yet discuss in meetings to come.

So ended the best turnout of the year to date and so begun the hardest morning-after for some time.

#64 - Titus Groan - Mervyn Peake (Choice: Eamonn's)(Venue: Meson Don Felipe)

Present: Gill, Nic, Jen, Eamonn and special guest star (and honorary member) Liz.
Date: 7th May
Two things can be whole-heartedly agreed:

1. Meeting on the same date (7th) of each month has not been the hoped-for success;
2. Gill and I will turn out for every meeting!  Hardcore, we are.

So, we had a complete failure to meet in April, following a partial failure in March, followed this evening, by agreement that we'll abandon the "7th of the month" in favour of regular Thursday meetings (Jen having mastered the Italian language and no longer being in lessons).  This is likely to find favour with all as it was long the preferred day and an opportunity for a slightly later night than we've allowed ourselves on Mondays and Tuesdays!

Our numbers have also been slightly reduced: Alex is taking a "lurve sabbatical" and Nathalie wants to push on with reading her own choices; but, most embarrassingly, Jennie (as opposed to Jen) was frightened off by the prospect of seeing us again and choosing a book after only one meeting (admittedly that one meeting was "The Messiah" and a robust discussion).  Oh dear - we were trying to be inclusive and instead were just scary. 

Back to tonight.  Sherry to start, red wine to follow with an array of excellent, rustic and very tasty tapas: salted almonds, delicious olive oil (though Liz, in briefly from Italy, was, in preference, lapping up the butter like there was no tomorrow), meats, cheeses, octopus salad, chorizo, patatas bravas and many (really, many) more.  Only the bread was less-than it could be: I fear Jane has turned us all into bread snobs!

The book was not widely discussed and, Eamonn aside, who thoroughly enjoyed it, reaction of those present could be summed up in one word: Groan.

We start a fresh page, with renewed vigour on Thursday 28th June, Jen's choice.  Here's hoping for a good turn out and great book, failing that we'll have as always, excellent company and a slap-up dinner.

#63 - Naked - David Sedaris (Choice: Nathalie's)(Venue: The Old Express, Shepherd Market)

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.

#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.

#61 - Great Expectations - Charles Dickens (Choice: Gill's)(Venue: Indigo, The Aldwych)

Present: Gill, Nic, Carl and, sparing us an hour from his off-West End success in Pippin, special guest star Ben Bunce!

So, in terms of official members, we had a 50% uplift in attendance this month, which sounds awesome ... and was.  Undeterred by the fact that there were only 3 of us (official-types and drinkers, that is), with a special offer of unlimited Prosecco for £12 when brunching, we drank enough of the bubbly stuff to make up for the rest of you and then some!  Whilst Indigo stretch the definition of brunch somewhat by (i) serving from 12.30 onwards, meaning at least two of us had breakfasted before coming out, and (ii) serving such "unbruchie" items as seared Tuna with avocado, rocket and pickled ginger (delicious!), this was a fab venue.  Attentive staff refilled our Prosecco glasses constantly from 12.30 until about 15.45, when we decided to move down to the bar and have cocktails, leaving Prosecco in our glasses, which is something I never thought I'd do.  We draw a close over proceedings there, to save Mr Barnes' blushes but not in time to save his boots.  Oh no, I've said too much.

Anyway, in between tales of family Christmases, new years and other activities, we also discussed the book, at surprising length, considering only Gill had finished it at that time (although I announce with some pride that I too have finished subsequently).  Luckily, Gill and I had watched the BBC adaptation and Carl had read the book previously in the distant but only slightly dim past.

We all agreed it was a good story.  We all agreed that Mr Wemmick was a firm favourite along with Biddy and that Pip wasn't really very nice, though he eventually redeemed himself.  We all agreed that Dickens makes for a great TV adaptation (!) though we also felt that some of the changes the Beeb made for this last adaptation went far beyond abridging and actually changed the impact of the tale: the absence of Biddy was a great loss and manipulating the story so that, for example, Pip declines to stay the night after his sister's funeral (boo hiss, bad, bad Pip) whereas in the book he stays seemed to interfere unnecessarily with the reader/watcher's interpretation of the characters.  We also thought Gillian Anderson needed to be more wrinkly to carry off being so white haired and that we liked her nervous hand-scratching and pinching but hated her strange delivery. 

Ah yes, this is BOOK group isn't it?  So, on the book: for my part, Dickens is too verbose to be readable (I KNOW others will disagree - so let's see some discussion) and his characters are too exaggerated and caricatured to encourage empathy and real connection.  I was unmoved through all the adventures and traumas and didn't care whether Pip was eventually happy or not.  Also, Dickens and I do not share a sense of humour and I find his jokes, such as they are, repetitive (Mrs Joe Gargery's refrain about not being out of her apron, about Pip being brought-up by hand, Mr Pumblechook's constant "May I" refrain) - yawn.  Ya-a-a-a-a-wn.  Where was I?  Oh yes.  I finished it.  I am unlikely to be starting another but, thanks to Gill, I have now read a complete Dickens, enhancing my classical education and that, again, is a mark of what book group is meant to achieve.

That and dinner with friends.  Not necessarily in that order.

Christmas 2011 - Saturday 10th December

Sadly, no cameras to record the food and the fun but we had a great turnout, despite some sorely missed compadres as Jane, Mark, Jennie, Doris and Gill were unable to join us.

Eamonn "3-dos in one night" managed to stay with us longer than expected for champagne and the annual Secret Santa book exchange but Shubha (with guest chauffeur and chef-extrordinaire Sanj, the pork-king), Alex (chef du salad accompanied by pastry chef Davis), Carl (the evening's veritable Mr Kipling), Nathalie (contributor of the cheese (edibles, not conversational)), Jen (hors d'hoevre queen and sous chef) and guest Brian (honourable chess-loser) were in it for the long haul through: tasty pastries; smoked chicken, pomegranate and pecan salad; roast pork, sausages, glazed ham, dauphinoise potatoes, buttered shredded sprouts, roasted butternut squash with pecans and blue cheese; Brazilian Pudim and Bakewell Tart; and, finally, cheese (or depending on the guest preference, cheese and, finally, Brazilian Pudim and Bakewell Tart) all of which was washed down with Champagne, Reisling, Pinot Noir, Port, Whisky and sparkling lime and mint refresher (the latter Nathalie's by choice and Shubha's less happily!).

As is traditional, only after all of the food and most of the alcohol had been consumed did we turn our attention to the book of the year awards so, with no further delay, the BoOkSCARS (and, boy, were we scarred by some of this years books!) go to:

Book of the Year:
City and the City, a narrow winner up against: Travels with My Aunt, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and Messiah, although we failed to record the official runner up.

Blooper of the Year:
The Thirteen and a Half Lives of Captain Blue Bear, a popular, by which we mean unpopular, winner in the most fiercely fought category this year with strong showings from: Empire of the Ants and Kiss of the Spider Woman and an honourable mention for Boxer Beetle, although the latter was never really a contender (boxing joke alert!).

Best (Good) Character:
(Female) The Aunt, Travels With My Aunt (the only unanimous decision of the night)
(Male) Lt. Mamiya, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

Best (Bad) Character:
Mr Stoll, Don't Look Now and Other Stories

Best Venue of the Year:
Brindisa, Kiss of the Spider Woman

Most Apt Venue:
The Criterion, The City and The City (not to be taken as a recommendation but awarded for the staff who unsaw us and the unseen 8 people for whom we were charged)

Most Shocking Moment:
The skinning alive, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

Most Gripping / Haunting Moment:
The death of John at the hands of the dwarf, Don't Look Now

Most Disappointing Book of Promise:
Kiss of the Spider Woman

2011 could be a contender for worst book-year to date.  Let's raise a glass to 2012, we do, after all have Great Expectations for it.

#60 - Don't Look Now and Other Stories - Daphne Du Maurier (Choice: Nic's)(Venue: 2Veneti, Wigmore Street)

Present: Nic and Gill

Well, what a turnout!  But what we lacked in numbers we made up for in enthusiasm for the Venetian theme, starting our evening with an Aperol spritz and following up with beef carpaccio; salami with cheese mousse; ravioli with pumpkin and Amaretto; and fritto misto, with a salad and mashed potatoes; all washed down with a light and subtle but flavoursome Venetian Valpolicella and followed by tiramisu.

Did we talk about the book?  Well, yes, briefly, and we loved it.

Venice by moonlight, Feb 2011 (c) Nic

The eponymous story of this collection was a tightly woven, atmospheric piece with not a wasted word but an abundance of Venetian detail and intrigue and a truly chilling ending that was slow to leave me as I tried to get to sleep.  I can still conjure up an echo of the physical palpitation I felt at the denoument just by bringing back to mind the clear mental picture Du Maurier crafted of the two characters facing each other at the climax.

Not After Midnight was chosen as the lead story of and name for this collection when it was originally published in the UK and that too was a haunting tale.  Despite the fact that it was narrated by the teacher, I still felt unsure of his survival at the end.  

My least favourite was The Way of the Cross, notwithstanding it was a clever exercise in sociology and group dynamic which finds humanity wanting. However, I did like the young boy's questioning of his party's failure to stop and help a stranded motorist on the road where the Good Samaritan did his thing and it is true that most characters grew through their group experience.

The Breakthrough also had a chilling religious overtone but we could not help a greater fondness for the simple but enjoyable Border Line Case, a suspenseful tale of a young lady who unwittingly has sex with her father.

After that, the conversation meandered through Devon and Cornwall to family and Christmas.  It was a delightful evening but our absentees were, of course, missed.

#59 - Messiah - Gore Vidal (Choice: Shubha's)(Venue: Dishoom, Covent Garden)

Present: Eamonn, Jenny, Jen, Mark, Shubha, Nic

For me this, THIS, is what book group is all about.  I can honestly say I probably would never have picked this book up off a shelf and, if I had, and I had read the Foreword, I'd almost certainly have put it back.  If, perchance, I'd held on to it, the opening chapter would have been sufficient to ensure I got no further: it was verbose, rambling, the sentence structure complex to the point of confusing and it had no obvious direction.  However, because this was book group, I forced myself to read on (which is not to say I always finish everything - ceasing to read can be a valid commentary!).  What I discovered in reading on was a gem, a book of sheer brilliance: well written, articulate, thought-provoking and, unlike the aforementioned Foreword and first chapter, easy to read but compelling.

Dishoom was a bustling, buzzing venue, serving tasty, fresh and spicy Indian dishes in a manner meant for sharing.  We ploughed in to the food with gusto and into the book discussion with similar vigour.  Although it could be difficult to catch what was being said on the edges of the table, I think it fair to say everyone enjoyed this book although nearly everyone had a similar reaction to the opening chapter.  I thought it was meant to set the tale in a post-war, McCarthyism / Roswell era demonstrating people's confusion and simplicity and indicating their need for a strong simple message which they could consume and follow easily.  Perhaps, thinking about it now, something to unite them instead of divide them - hence the fast adoption.

We discussed the writing style and the paucity of actual detail of Cavesword - was this an indication of the lack of content in John Cave's speeches or just the author's easy-way out?  It took us a while, however, to begin to discuss the (very obvious) parallels between Cavesword and our real world religions, in part, perhaps, out of that sense of reserve that says religion is not a topic for polite company and a fear that criticism of a, or any, religion may be taken as criticism of a person who believes in that religion.  Yet, we are brave-hearted individuals, confident in our varied beliefs, so we didn't shirk the discussion.  Are John Caves' initials are entirely coincidental?  Is Iris, as mother, meant to parallel Mary? With that in mind, this book can be viewed as a criticism of religion generally, and Christianity specifically.  John Cave was a simple man with a simple desire to travel the world and a simple belief that death was not to be feared and could, in some cases, be welcome - not in itself a bad message (although where the line is drawn was a key issue in this book and has been and continues to be a subject of religious and political debate and much science fiction).  He was otherwise unremarkable had little else to say though his delivery, apparently, was mesmerising.  Most of Cavesword, however, was not written by John Cave or even pronounced by him - some of it was composed by Eugene Luther and other writers during Cave's life and yet more by other writers after Cave died.  Comparing this to the religion with which we were most familiar, we discussed whether this differed to or continued to parallel Christianity: Jesus did not write down his own words; the new testament is not a contemporaneous record of his life; and the gospel writers each addressed their words to specific sectors of the societies for which they wrote so query whether they may have deliberately chosen to push agendas of their own or, even unintentionally, have added their own interpretations, even if they meant to create accurate histories of the life of Jesus.  This discussion could run and run!  We drew it to a close for the night but the thoughts roll on.  One thing we all agreed upon is that great evils have been done by man to man in the name of religion: it doesn't mean the original message of the religion itself is wrong but that its original meaning can be easily corrupted or entirely lost over time. 

This is a simply-written book of great depth and very thought-provoking.  I love it, Shubha, I love it. 

Shubha stunned that we both liked the same book

#58 - The Wind-up Bird Chronicle - Haruki Murakami (Choice: Jen's)(Venue: Watatsumi, Trafalgar Square)

Present: Mark, Gill, Jen, Eamonn, Doris, Nic,

The lines between fantasy and reality blurred for the hero, Toru, just as they blurred for us.  I'm not sure he had any better idea than us what was happening and whether it was real or imagined.  The novel is an examination of a marriage in trouble and a detective story where our hero seeks out first his missing cat and then his estranged wife, trying to establish why she left and where she went.  On the course of our travels, extraordinary characters come and go.  Mr Honda was my favourite: bequeathing to our hero an empty package in his will.  But the empty package was a gift, bringing us the delightful Lieutentant Mamiya whose war stories were profoundly disturbing (Jane who'd read this book previously couldn't bring herself to reread them) but bright, detailed and immensely moving. Malta, Creta, Cinnamon and Nutmeg were all fascinating and enigmatic; May was downright scary; Kumiko was disliked by Jen for her treatment of our hero; everyone was a full and rounded character.

No-one understood this book and no-one minded that they didn't.  We loved it.  The characters were fascinating, running the gamut from quirky through odd to downright peculiar with a bit of dangerous and insane thrown in for good measure.  The narrative drove the reader on and on: although you were never sure where you were going, you knew you wanted to get there.  When I got to the end, I still didn't really know where I was but I'd really enjoyed the journey.

#57 - Life Before Man - Margaret Atwood (Choice: Jane's)(Venue: StockPot, Old Compton Street)

Present: Alex, Doris, Jane, Mark, Jen, Shubha, Nic

I was so excited when Jane announced this one - a real adults book, a REAL author of literary merit.  May be I over-hyped it to myself.  I found the characters boring, their lives boring and plodding, suffocated by indecision and delay.  Perhaps that was the point, perhaps that is our lot in this world, to be forever waiting for something more or better.  But the worse thing was, I couldn't care about them and I couldn't get excited about this novel, even though it was easy to read and clearly written by an accomplished author.

However, this book inspired great passion in some people: Mark and Jane LOVED this book, whilst  Doris and Jen vehemently disliked some of the characters and their life decisions.  I hope that they may share their feelings here.

The food was authentically 1970s.  My salmon and avocado salad was a delight though and much more appetising than Jen's pate (well, that's what they said it was, we were unable to confirm).

#56 - The Thirteen ½ Lives of Captain Blue Bear – Walter Moers (Choice: Eamonn’s)(Venue: Rosa’s, Soho)

Present: Gill, Nathalie, Alex, Eamonn, Jen, Nic, Jane

This book was not generally well liked but it did stimulate an interesting debate about whether this is (i) a children’s book (ii) a book for adults based on a children’s character or (iii) a table. 

I put this firmly into the children’s book category being very basic in structure and generally simplistic with discrete chapters that might be read by a generous parent with a high boredom threshold as a bedtime story.  It has no content worthy of adult cognitive ability and no value as a work of literature or, indeed, entertainment.  However, the long, made-up words pointed others to classify it as a book for adults.  And, as Jen pointed out, not even a child would find it exciting enough to want to hear more (and this from the book’s strongest supporter!).

We recognised that our appreciation may have been hindered by a lack of cultural background as this book was written for the German market where Captain Blue Bear is a children’s television phenomenon, however, most of us declined to cut it any slack on that basis as someone had approved it for UK publication, where it stands or falls on its merits.  The early chapters were initially engaging but there was no character development or plot direction and no driving purpose to engage the reader and make them read on.  Notwithstanding that, Jen and Eamonn finished the book, a feat which evaded the rest of us.

I convinced Gill (who’d been stuck in trial and not purchased the book) to take my copy home – I’m not sure whether she read it or decided it was best used as a table.

Let’s talk about the food.  Yum, yum, tom yum, yum.  Alex and Nathalie ordered sensible meals.  The rest of us ordered “one of everything” from the starters which we ate communally as tapas and then ordered some more until we ended filled to the brim and saying “never again”.  But you know we will.

#55 - Boxer Beetle - Ned Beauman (Choice: Alex's)(Venue: Tiger Green Brasserie at London Hilton Green Park)

Present: Alex, Jane, Jen, Carl, Nathalie and Nic

The Berry Bar served a lovely Earl Grey Martini in an iced tea pot with a glass cup and saucer. It did less well with the Ginger Fizz but you can't have everything: a truth confirmed when we reached the Brasserie, which was soulless and slow with only a very vague understanding of what constituted a rare rib eye, a pie, or customer service. That did not stand in the way, however, of an excellent evening. We've noted before that books that open with six pages of quotations from glowing reviews rarely are as entertaining as those reviewers suggest and this was no exception. Whilst the general consensus was that the book opened strongly - quite where the decline set in wasn't entirely clear - by half way through, most of us were, although reasonably entertained while reading, reluctant to pick up the book in the first place. Firstly, as Jen noted, the characters were unpleasant and unsympathetic so it was hard to be interested in what happened to them. The characters were caricatured Nazi sympathisers and, whilst the book referenced real-life events, such as the black shirts marching in the East End, and real-life people, such as Mosley, it did so without giving the reader any sense of learning (unlike, for example, Sarah Waters "Little Stranger" which was highly engaging and entertaining whilst still providing historical insight). Secondly, as Nathalie illustrated with tagged examples, the female characters were weakly sketched, negatively portrayed nonentities serving little useful purpose in the narrative. We agreed that Seth's sister existed only to humanise him, his love for her preventing him from being entirely a monster. However, the other female characters need not have been there at all: their "parts" could have been played by male characters just as easily. Jane felt the book was a disparate set of ideas and two distinct stories, dragged kicking and screaming together into one novel by a first time novelist who may not have a second book in him (though we said that about Jed Rubenstein after "Interpretation of Murder" and he's only gone and published another (darn it!) so what do we know?!). Arguably, the plot was contrived (but then isn't that the purpose of "plotting") and the characters manipulated to fit - once Jane proposed the sentiment, we quickly agreed that the main protagonist's rare condition was probably invented solely to allow him to survive the climactic beetle-feeding frenzy. There were flashes of laugh-out-loud humour: Hitler organising a 40th birthday party; the strange noises emanating from Erskine's wife in the company of one of his rivals; the foul-mouthed young child (another negatively portrayed female though!), to name a few, and one tut-inducing conceit - the author name-checking himself in his own work! Get over yourself. However,when we tried to recap the story for those who hadn't finished it, those who had read it each chimed in with different aspects of the plot that the then-current-speaker was missing out (the then-current-speaker going "Huh, oh, yes, I remember ..."), showing that this is a busy, multi-stranded narrative from which we each took away something different. We frequently criticise the editing of books we read - A S Byatt's "The Children's Book", for example, could be wonderful abridged by about 300 pages and, here again, a good editor could have been invaluable, dragging the multiple strands and isolated moments and vignettes into a more cohesive whole.
When all is said and done, however, it's my view that the ants will beat the beetles in a fight for the worse book of the year and there's still 6-months for something else to intervene!

Jen:
There's not really much to add to that is there?

Alex:
Excellently put!

#54 - Kiss of the Spiderwoman - Manual Puig (Choice: Mark's)(Venue: Brindisa, Soho)

Present: Alex, Mark, Jane, Nic, Jen, Gill, Shubha
Best food of the year to date, perhaps? Or that might just be me ...
Alex dismissed this book as a "safe choice" on announcement. If that meant "will be liked" it needs re-assessing!
I may pick this up again as the remainder of the story, as told by Mark and Alex on the night, did seem more interesting than the bit I read prior to the meeting but, thus far, I am not engaged.

Nathalie:
I found to book quite grey and lacklustre, and the characters not particularly interesting. My view is that if you're going to write a book with just 2 people in a cell, there needs to be an emphasis on who these people are and how they feel so that you can get involved and create pictures in your mind.

Why the endless footnotes?

Plus too much information about the food poisoning - that kind of thing upsets me.

I didn't actually finish it, though, and hear there was some kind of suspense at the end so maybe should have stuck with it.

#53 - Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - Mary Ann Shaffer (Choice Nathalie's)(Venue: Canteen, Spitalfields)

Present: Gill, Nathalie, Mark, Nic, Carl
Mixed responses to this one. Jen subsequently reported really enjoying this because it was engaging and easy to read but, for those who were present on the night, it was generally considered schmaltzy and disappointing. Some of us were moved yet felt manipulated. 

There was general agreement amongst us that the various characters were poorly sketched and lacked substance - primary character excepted: she was reasonably well-developed and hugely likeable; strong, dry, funny; and reminded me of our very own Jane (an opinion which garnered some agreement when I mentioned it at our subsequent gathering for #54!). 

The letters failed to bring most of the characters to life and did not present any significant shifts in style or vocabulary in order to differentiate between the characters, their personalities, educations, life-positions etc. Mark felt that the letters were just real-life stories the author had read about topped and tailed with Dear X and Best regards Y. Certainly all the Guernsey men spoke with one voice and followed a strict "I didn't like reading but then I joined this club and all that changed and by the way here's an interesting experience I had during the occupation" approach to letter-writing that was a lifeless and unconvincing.

This was not an awful book but it wasn't a good one, even though it was diverting for a time.

Best bit? Finding out that Oscar Wilde was called Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde. Worst bit? Imaging how smug the author was about weaving that bit of info into the book.

#52 - Travels With My Aunt - Graham Green (Choice: Doris)(Venue: combined with #53)

A shame we didn't get to meet on this one: the food options were immense, including "Chicken" and several European countries, not to mention some more unusual South American cuisines. 
We did, however, discuss this book at Canteen (see #53) and it was generally considered a hit. This book was appealing, funny, sad, warm and slightly uncomfortable due to archaic references to other races. It featured well-sketched characters and great scenes and it conjured a splendid sense of another time and place. This was an aunt with whom we'd all have liked to travel.

#51 - The Empire of the Ants - Bernard Werber (Choice: Carl's)(Venue: Cafe des Amis, Covent Garden)

Present: Carl, Nic, Jen, Jane
Fourmis ... Formidable ... formidably awful.
How can ants be the most advanced society when they walk around barefooted in goodness knows what and then lick each other and eat each other's regurgitated pre-digested food? I can't buy it (regrettably I did) and I really do not care about asexual ant 103,683 or any of her colleagues. Worst part? For me, the quip about having to be good at jigsaws because the ants were in so many pieces after one of the attacks. For Carl, the conversation between ants and glow worms marked a low point. The best bit? The fact that Jane actually thought it might be good after we ran the plot past her at this evening!
Can't recall anyone else having a kind word.

Nathalie:

Excellent wordsmithing Nic! And admirable persistence in getting to the end of the book. It was a rotter!

Mentioned to someone that I might need to get my eyes tested as hear that you can't concentrate on reading when your eyesight is going. They said that yes, that happens, then asked what the book was like I was reading. That explained everything.

Even the bits in between the pages about the 42nd soldier (which I ended up skipping anyway) were flimsy and weird. I think the only person who was impressed with that vast (and slightly unhealthy) knowledge on ants was the author himself.

Went in the bin unfinished.

#50 - The City and The City - China Mieville (Choice: Nic's)(Venue: The Criterion)

Present: Jane (drinks only); Carl, Nic, Alex, Nathalie, Jen, Mark, Doris, Shubha

A great turnout for an evening where the book could very easily have been overshadowed by the venue, which produced several courses of perfectly decent food served by utterly disinterested staff followed by a bill which made our eyes water. It took us a surprisingly long time, encompassing varied mathematical intricacies, before we realised they were seeking to charge us for fourteen two-course and two three-course meals - sixteen courses between eight people! 

Anyway, back to the book and what a remarkable book it is. This is the first book of 2011 but it is almost certain, unless 2011 is a truly remarkable year, to be on my shortlist for book of the year come the vote next Christmas. Whilst we mostly agreed on this book, I am not going to represent all opinions. This is mine:

On its face, this is a simple murder mystery, a police drama set in a familiar city scape but, from the beginning, there is something intriguing in the language; something that hints at a deeper and stranger reality than the one we know. Initially one wonders why one has never heard of the place in which the tale is set: the place feels real, the character and street names utterly convincing but, slowly, one realises that this is no ordinary city. Beszel shares the same geotopical space as its neighbouring city Ul Qoma. The buildings of these two cities are strikingly different but occupy the same land. The cities have different currencies and different laws (perhaps one flaw we never discussed is how this book isn't called The Country and the Country or The City State and the City State). The citizens of these two cities walk the same pavements and drive the same roads; they could see each other, if it weren't for a law forbidding the seeing and requiring that they unsee each other, a skill they have to acquire early in life as the penalties for seeing that which should be unseen are severe. And so they share a space and navigate their way around each other without ever really seeing each other. To travel from one city to the other, to unsee your city and see the other, requires that you transit through the border, only to reappear in the same space but seeing and unseeing the opposite things.

In creating this complex fiction, the author does not stumble: his invention is tight and complete, thoughtfully crafted and beguilingly realised. It may not be unfair to suggest that this conceit can be so compelling as to district from an otherwise mundane murder mystery but the distraction is more than sufficient and the extraordinary invention creates some wonderful vignettes.

It is easy to wonder what this book is "about" beyond the obvious tale of the investigation. Is it about the Middle East conflict, about the battle for Jerusalem between Israel and Palestine? Is it a commentary on the caste system in India or an examination of the effects of foreign investment into and withdrawal from smaller economies? For me, the cities Mieville created are every city. We live in a world of cities where people see and unsee their fellow inhabitants in an automatic and unconscious manner that is drilled into them from childhood: don't look at this; don't mention that; don't stare at the disabled person; ignore that drunk; he's not like us. It's about the fact that we ignore things that are complicated or painful or embarrassing; the way the inhabitants of Beszel and Ul Qoma navigate each other is the way we avoid a homeless person in the street, aware of them but unseeing or the way we try to speak to someone with a deformity whilst assiduously not seeing the deformity. It's the way the underclass don't raise their eyes to the rich, the way the rich look away from the poor, the way most people exist in the gulf between the two. It's about how we exist within our social strata and barely exist to those outside it.

This is a decent but unexceptional murder mystery contained within a great and exceptional novel.

Books we are not reading

A few photos carried over from Facebook to remind us why we're here.  Copyright Mark and Carl (unless Waterstones and Smiths have other ideas).

#49 - The Tango Singer - Tomas Eloy Martinez (Choice: Gill's)(Venue: Casa Malevo)

Present: Mark, Gill, Jen, Nic and Alex

Fabulous food and wine, which conjured up Buenos Aires, for me, much better than this book was able to do.

For me this was the most disappointing book of the year - it held great promise, with wonderful reviews on the cover (which I later noticed were for one of the author's other books!). I was expecting the poetical literacy of The Shadow of the Wind instead, when I began, I thought I was reading the foreword and only, with growing disappointment, realised this was the book after several dull and un-engaging pages.

Gill, although disappointed, was able to reap some enjoyment from the descriptions of tango. I don't think I read far enough to encounter one.

Gill:

I am the first to admit that I chose this book because (a) it had something to do with tango; (b) it sounded good on the cover; and (c) it had a nice photo on the front. So, yes never judge a book by the cover! I would, however, disagree that it was such a bad book. It perhaps lost something in the translation but I am glad that I finished it. It reminded me of a literary version of an art gallery - each of the venues the tango singer sang at had a story and was a different picture of buenos aires. I agree that the narrator character was highly annoying! All in all, the idea behind the book was interesting but it just didn't live up to its promise. Will go back to dancing tango and not reading books on it!

#48 - Vinnie Got Blown Away - Jeremy Cameron (Choice: Shubha's)(Venue: Alfie's, Bermondsey Square Hotel)

Present: Carl, Jane, Nic, Shubha, Jen, Doris

Awful, awful, awful (except Jen thought it was ok).

I can almost guarantee you would rather saw off your own plates of meat than read this book.

#47 - The Valley of the Dolls - Jacqueline Susann (Choice: Alex's)(Venue: Maison Touaregue)

Present: Alex, Nathalie, Gill, Nic

All present thoroughly enjoyed this book. thinking it, perhaps a forerunner of modern chicklit but well-written with well crafted main characters and some interesting side-characters too. The men were, on the whole, weak or unpleasant or both and the women were weak and / or manipulative but, both were, in some ways, the product of their time and the roles and expectations of their sexes. Who's to say any of us would have been strong enough to fight the tide if we grew up in a different time?

Jennifer North was my favourite character ultimately, although she must have been more than a little dim not to realise her husband had the mental age of a pre-pubescent boy; and his sister was revealed to have more depth and compassion that at first sight. And so it was with many characters - you thought you knew them and then you learned something a little new or unexpected. Quite a page turner and a colourful portrait of another time, not so distant from our own but almost unrecognisable.

I happen to know Jen hated this.

#46 - For Whom the Bell Tolls - Ernest Hemmingway (Choice: Jane's)(Venue: Cigala, Lamb's Conduit Street)

Present: Jen, Jane, Nic, Alex, Gill, Mark, Carl

This is a slowly unfolding tale; an almost real-time recounting of events in the couple of days leading up to the blowing of a bridge during the Spanish civil war. I'd like to say more but ... unprintable ... yawn ...

Mark and Jane loved this. I can't remember what everyone else thought but the cava, the food and the red wine were marvellous.

#45 - The Road - Cormac McCarthy (Choice: Eamonn's)(Venue: Automat, Mayfair),

Present: Nic, Eamonn, Jane, Alex, Nathalie and Gill (if memory serves)

A controversial choice and a divided table: Eamonn loved this book; Nathalie appreciated it; Gill and Nic loathed it passionately; as I recall Jane disliked it.

Possibly the stark, deconstructed writing - "sentences" weren't sentences but phrases or words separated by inappropriate full stops; lacking cohesion and structure and having, usually, either subject or predicate but rarely both - reflected the apocalyptic breakdown of society but mostly it smacked of illiteracy.

There were occasional, breath-taking portraits of degradation and desperation - the farm of humans in the cellar, kept alive to provide meat being an obvious example - but mostly the characters were unappealing and so slightly sketched that it was hard to know them and, therefore, to empathise.

We knew the mother had committed suicide and the father hadn't and had undertaken the care and upbringing of his child alone but throughout the whole novel we learned nothing more of him than that he loved his child and had taken that decision. (Except that he had an uncanny ability to find barely hidden cellars full of food that had gone undiscovered by the other desperate survivors who had passed by previously. Perhaps he had a great sense of smell?)

We have no reason to think the mother didn't love her child but she reached a different decision. Presumably this made the father morally more commendable but, really, to what purpose and why? What was the value in the life he and the boy led while we followed and, if the devastation was so wide spread as it appeared and danger so omnipresent, what value would there ever be?

I'm not sure the mother was wrong.


Carl's Comments:

#44 - The Little Stranger - Sarah Waters (Choice: Jen's)(Venue: Jen's Country Pile)

• Alex:
• Present: Jen, Alex, Mark, Eamonn (and Jen's more-than-welcome family)
  A thin on the ground, but beautifully catered book group...
  
  I tried to read as little about The Little Stranger as possible before starting it. I had heard it was a ghost story, which already freaked me out - being equally compelled and appalled by these things. I don't think we ever grow out of our childhood fears, and the possibilty of ghouls and spectres, and unexplained happenings, chills me as much now as it did then. And infact the book succeeded in keeping me awake a good couple of nights - watching the bedroom door, listening for unexplained creaks and knocks, as I flew through Waters's rollicking story of the doomed Ayres family desperately trying to maintain their disintigrating family home, their reputation and sanity.
  
  I do not believe in spirits, though, much like the 1st person narrator - the village doctor, Faraday (who we follow from boy to man, and who becomes indelibly intertwined in the family's misfortunes), erring more to the subconscional explanations of his colleague, Professor Selby, that we make our own ghosts, and indeed, to my mind, the mishaps that befall the various members of the Ayres family do seem to be manifestations of their own fears.
  
  The book conveys a changing post-war Britian effortlessly, making the history as much a character as any of the named protagonists. The book details the anxiety for change felt by the populace and the social-leveling that the war brought about. It weaves in the expectations of a new labour government, of social housing and the onset of the National Helath service. These things are vital to the story-telling, and makes the Ayres's plight as they cling on to their crumbling home and decaying class poignant and quite moving.
  
  The book never forgets about the reader, and up to the the final paragraph remains thought provoking and chilling.
Nic:

I found this beautifully and well written. The changes in British society and politics that Alex refers to above are subtly drawn and deftly woven into, indeed are a vital part of, the plot: they propel the action and decline of the house and family. In this respect, Waters has a delicacy of touch that is in stark contrast to Byatt's clumsy history lecturing. I'd definitely try more of Waters work. I was disappointed not to be able to attend this book group but we've discussed this book a sessions subsequently and everyone seems to have been in agreement with Alex about the haunting tone of the work - especially with regard to the intriguing, undefined role played by the doctor in the fall of the family through his deep, personal connection with the house.

#43 - The Children's Book - AS Byatt (Choice: Mark's)(Venue: Katzenjammers, London bridge)

Tuesday 25th May 2010
Present: Mark, Jen, Nic, Shubha, Gill, Alex

Literary Marmite. The only thing we all agreed on was the beer (even that's poetic licence, actually as Shubha had wine).

Mark and Jane loved, loved, loved this book. Jen, Shubha, and Alex hated it. Gill pulled extraordinary faces of disapproval during Mark's protestations of love (for the book, not Gill - it goes without saying that we all love Gill).

The male characters were odious and the female characters, on the most part, were lame. There were some notable exceptions (esp Karl/Charles, Phillip and Elsie), which probably sums up the era rather well. The book was dense with historical facts and, whether you loved this or hated it, this was just one of the factors dividing our opinions.

For my part, I wondered where the editor was. It seems Byatt did laudable amounts of research for this book but, instead of using that information to drop in subtle hints as to the nature of the time, she formed the facts into a sledge hammer which she used to ram home her superior knowledge driving, at the same time, a sledgehammer through my enjoyment of the compelling 300-page tale that, instead, covered 615 pages.

I did, however, find that the strength of the story telling and the power of the ultimate story, eventually, permeated the dense text. For me, the Bird-Song-style ending redeemed everything that went before and gave it new perspective: to see that so many of these children, of whose lives we knew such intimate detail, whose trials and tribulations had seemed so important, could be wiped out by WW1 and to know that that happened not just to these few but to so many, to a generation, was heart breaking. Despite my early difficulties with the novel, I ended in tears not of frustration but of wonder, some for the characters and some for the end of a marvellous book.

Carl's Review:

#42 - One Day - David Nicholls (Choice: Nathalie's)(Venue: LE Pain Quotidien, South Bank)

Present: Shubha, Nic, Mark, Gill, Jenny, Alex, Nathalie

Ok, so I should have typed this one up earlier as I am struggling to remember the discussion although, for some reason, I recall that Mark, Shubha and I ended up at the new hotel at the south end of Westminster Bridge! Connected? Surely not!

Jen, I know, hadn't finished the book but was enjoying it so she left the table while we discussed the dramatic turn of events just before the conclusion. Mark didn't like it. The rest of us, so far as my hazy memory permits generally enjoyed the read. It fulfilled Nathalie's reasons for choosing it, being a straightforward, easy to read tale with a little more humour than the previous novel - something a little lighter. The main characters, Em and Dex, felt real, which is to say they were defined, suitably flawed and not always likeable. Post university days, menial jobs, career angst and family frustrations were all well sketched and jogged memories amongst our table of readers. One does wonder why Em put up with Dexter for so long, although it is clear that he loved her and made efforts to change in order that the relationship would work. Many of us felt that [spoiler alert] their relationship would not have survived and Dexter would have returned to his previous ways, probably having an affair with Maddy, had Emma not died so abruptly. We all felt that the simple way her death was written was shocking and moving and Dexter's reaction painful. But, sadly, I recall we mostly felt that a leopard doesn't change its spots. The ending, returning to the beginning was controversial; not universally liked. And we even discussed the title - One Day. The events of years are told through snap shots of a single day from each - the 15th July but I read the title as a romantic hope, harboured long and secretly ... one day, may be One Day.

#41 - If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things - Jon McGregor (Choice: Nic's)(Venue: Waterloo Bar and Grill)

Jen:
Present Nic, Jen, Mark, Alex, Natalie. Please forgive me if you were there and I haven't mentioned you; I'm not as good as Nic at this!
An interesting choice, and one that most people liked. However, Jane did say that it was like watching paint dry and I wasn't so sure. My problem was that I read it sproradically, on the train home. If I had been able to read it all in one, or maybe two sittings, perhaps I would have enjoyed it more. But as it was, I loved it whilst I was reading it, but it was a struggle to pick up because I found it very difficult to know who was who and what was going on.

It was beautifully written and poetic and I did finish it following the comments from the group. So all in all, a well received choice.

Carl (from Afghanistan):

#40 - The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald (Choice: Gill's)(Venue: Christopher's, Covent Garden)

Present: Gill, Carl "Gin Martini" Barnes, Shubha, Jennie, Nic and, a little later than billed, Eamonn.

With a wonderfully grand and aged staircase up to the main restaurant, this was a great venue to discuss a book which vibrantly brought to life the decadence and opulence of America in the 1920s. Carl brought a little more of that to life as he arrived for brunch hung-over and called immediately for a gin martini with Tanqueray and a twist. Style.

Superficially, this was the story of a man's obsession with a failed love affair and his prolonged and impassioned attempt to recapture a lost moment but, in an unusually high-brow discussion, we discussed this as a metaphor for the corruption of the American dream: the narrator and Gatsby illustrating the ability for anyone of any background to 'make it big' in postwar America whilst Daisy and Tom represent the established, monied but morally bankrupt classes judging the new comers and finding them wanting.

We felt that, in keeping with the superficiality of the lifestyles portrayed, we didn't really get to know the characters. However, from what we knew, we found Daisy spoiled and selfish, ready to betray the man she loved (or had, perhaps, loved) to save her own position in society, whilst Gatsby, the nouveau riche criminal, had real heart and paid the ultimate price for loving and protecting her.

The book was well-received by those present (though Shubha had some way to go still). I, having a very strong recollection of loving Tender is the Night and, without recalling that novel in real detail, felt this did not live up to the huge expectations I placed upon it. Meanwhile, conversely, Jennie, who loved this book, recalled hating Tender is the Night.

Further comments, particularly from those who were absent, welcomed.

Jen:
Not much to add to that I think!