John Green’s writing has been described as being privy to “a secret you can’t wait to divulge” and “like a John Hughes film… quirky and funny [mixed with] Sofia Coppola” (both in relation to his first novel, Looking for Alaska); Nymeth -recommendation reliant- is of the belief that “John Green can do no wrong”; my ready-made blurb is that Paper Towns is like Dawson’s Creek minus the incongruous dialogue and the narcissistic, whiny Dawson.

The reason I have opted for a television comparison (much like the film directors point of reference) is that Paper Towns will translate to screen extremely well (it already has a film option); the prose is very cinematic and also vividly realistic.  I could envisage myself being there overhearing the pithy exchanges and observing the sugar-fueled road trip.  Too infrequently can novelists create a world that you can readily step into as voyeur but John Green is one who can; I experienced events along with Q, as a willing participant caught up in his coming-of-age story.

Quentin Jacobsen (known as “Q” to his friends) has always loved the enigmatic Margo Roth Spiegelman, his next door neighbour and -once-upon-a-time- playmate.  One night Margo appears at Q’s window (ahem, are you flash-backing to Joey Potter climbing in Dawson Leery’s window?) and enlists his help in an all-night revenge attack, promising him the best night of his life in return.  What ensues is a life-changing night of adventure and ingenuity, Margo style; beyond that night is a mystery that Q embroils himself in -with the help of his friends- when Margo disappears.

Margo always loved mysteries. And in everything that came afterward, I could never stop thinking that maybe she loved mysteries so much that she became one.

For those of you who shy away from the young adult genre, please set aside your preconceptions; Paper Towns is witty, intelligent, illuminating and emotionally captivating. John Green writes truths in all their brutality.  Perhaps I have the emotional maturity of a highschool senior but I emotionally connected with this novel and what its characters -at times harshly- learned. I actually had an epiphany with this novel, thanks to Green; we cannot make people into who we want them to be and we cannot expect people to behave the same way we would, which is hardly life-shattering but it took Paper Towns to bring it home to me.  At times philosophical, the novel captures the difficulty of growing up; Q and his best friends, Ben and Radar, are on the cusp of adulthood, graduating from highschool and embarking on their futures.  Q, Ben and Radar are misfits and Green evokes school in all its harshness and petty injustices; the threesome are exceptionally funny, entertaining to be around, exceedingly loyal, and I would happily extend an offer of friendship to them beyond the confines of the novel.  Green creates real characters and the third part of Paper Towns is a hilarious bond-building road trip that I would have gone on in a heartbeat.

Not only does he create real people but makes us realise that we can’t create people into images of who we want them to be, Green also shows us that we dehumanise people that don’t like; whether they are the objects of our love, our esteem or our dislike, we make fictions of people and turn them into characters in our own life stories.  The novel’s title refers to towns that only exists on paper: “fictitious towns which are added to a map either for fun or for copyright reasons” (Wikipedia definition); people can lose their sense of self in other people’s imagined version of them and become as fictitious and as unreal as paper towns on a map.

The strength of Paper Towns is difficult to do justice to but suffice to say that I highly recommend it.  Incredibly funny and also bittersweet, Paper Towns took me on a journey that I would oft repeat; I’ve been to central Florida with Green and next will be going with him to Alaska.

A favourite passage which showcases Green’s prose-style:

Stranding before this building, I learn something about fear. I learn that it is not the idle fantasies of someone who maybe wants something important to happen to him, even if the important thing is horrible. It is not the disgust of seeing a dead stranger, and not the breathlessness of hearing a shotgun pumped outside of Becca Arrington’s house. This cannot be addressed by breathing exercises. This fear bears no analogy to any fear I knew before. This is the basest of all possible emotions, the feeling that was with us before we existed, before this building existed, before the earth existed. This is the fear that made fish crawl onto dry land and evolve lungs, the fear that teaches us to run, the fear that makes us bury our dead.

Precious by Sapphire is a book -and adapted film – that is emotionally draining; I hasten to use the word “harrowing” as I know it is a word that can immediately deter readers of novels from a blurb, but it is a story of social deprivation; child abuse and molestation; incest; teenage pregnancy; sexual disease; illiteracy; so harrowing events are at a premium.  Do read this short novel if you sometimes require your fiction to be hard-hitting and depict raw and disturbing events without coddling you.  Precious is painfully evocative, often shocking, and the rawness of Precious, the protagonist, is palpable.

Precious Jones is a sixteen-year-old black girl living in Harlem, who is illiterate and pregnant by her father for the second time; Precious already has a daughter, who she gave birth to at age twelve, named Little Mongo because she has Downs Syndrome.  Precious is subjugated by her mother and raped by her father; her  name, Precious (her middle name), is ironic as her parents do not treat her as if she is precious. Her school exclude her due to her second pregnancy and she is entered into an alternative teaching programme; in the Each One Teach One programme Precious is taught to read and write by her inspiring teacher, Ms Rain. The novel is in the form of a diary, a writing exercise for her class; Precious tells her own story and some of the abuse is only ever hinted at, although some of the subtle inferences are even more shocking than the matter-of-fact announcement of her father regularly forcing herself upon her.  To say that the story of Precious and her desire to improve herself is powerful and moving is understating the novel’s effect; Precious’ resilience is inspiring and ultimately there is a message of hope, even if the devastation that befalls Precious is unrelenting.

There is a noticeable development in language, spelling and articulation in both Precious’ narration and her writing examples; her ignorance is intentionally shocking and often difficult to understand.  From the opening passage, Precious is honest and displays her innocence as well as her lack of education:

I was left back when I was twelve because I had a baby for my fahver.  That was in 1983.  I was out of school for a year.  This gonna be my second baby. My daughter got Down Sinder.  She’s retarded.  I had got left back in the second grade too, when I was seven, ’cause I couldn’t read (and I still peed on myself).  I should be in the eleventh grade, getting ready to go into the twelf’ grade so I can gone ‘n graduate.  But I’m not.  I’m in the ninfe grade.

I got suspended from school ’cause I’m pregnant which I don’t think is fair. I ain’ did nothin’!

It is not an easy book to read -in terms of both narrative accessibility and subject matter- but I think it is a necessary one.  I did not find it exploitative or emotionally manipulative but I can understand the concerns of people who do and who suspect it of being disingenuous. I have not read A Color Purple by Alice Walker but can still draw comparisons; there are several references made to the Pulitzer-winning novel and to Celie. The film is as equally distressing -to see some of the abuse enacted is sometimes stronger than imagining it- but there are some artistic distancing techniques as well as  some similarly clever allusions to other cultural representations of black female experience, as in the poster of  For Colored Grls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf (as mentioned here).

Simon of Savidge Reads raved about Precious earlier this year and it is to him that I owe my gratitude as otherwise I may not have read it; I did so in March but allowed the book to settle for some time before posting my thoughts (as well as having a backlog of other book reviews to contend with).  Precious is a book that I am glad I read; it is not an enjoyable read but one that evokes sorrow and outrage in equal measure. The big issues of social deprivation, race, and child abuse need a wider audience in literature and recognition in Hollywood, which Precious (the film) received. In Mo’nique’s Oscar acceptance speech, best supporting actress award for  the role of Precious’s mother, she said that “sometimes you have to forego doing what’s popular in order to do what’s right”; sometimes you have to forego what is comfortable and read what is distressing in order to learn and empathise with that you do not understand.

Alice from Bloomsbury sent me a copy of Paper Towns by John Green, which was only published in the UK this week (it was published in the US in 2008).  Nymeth has raved about it and when she raves about a book, I pay attention; I read this at the beginning of this week and will share my thoughts soon.

Katherine from Harper Press sent me The Book of Fires by Jane Borodale.  This book has been nominated for this year’s Orange Award for New Writers and sounds completely riveting; I am planning to immerse myself in this soon.

Polly from Sceptre sent me Sunnyside by Glen David Gold; I haven’t read Carter Beats the Devil but look forward to reading a fictional account of Charlie Chaplin.

Sophie from Virago sent me the latest re-issued Elizabeth Taylor novel, The Soul of Kindness.  To date, I actually haven’t read any Taylor but this may be the one I start with as the synopsis really appeals.

Gemma from Faber sent me both Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot (I’ve been coveting this book for so long!) and A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore.  The Moore has been shortlisted for the 2010 Orange Prize for Fiction; I’ve fallen behind in my prize reading for this but would like to read this before I attend the shortlist readings earlier next month (if anyone would like to go to this then please let me know as I have a spare ticket).

Have you read any of these?

I have family visiting this weekend and a family event so I’ll probably be a.w.o.l.

]]> http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/05/15/recent-acquisitions-12/feed/ 27 http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/03/27/recent-acquisitions-9/ http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/2010/03/27/recent-acquisitions-9/#comments Sat, 27 Mar 2010 17:01:50 +0000 Paperback Reader http://www.paperback-reader.co.uk/?p=1842

When I arrived home from London earlier this week I was greeted to a number of book parcels, which cheered me some after a dreadful train (well, six trains) journey and five-hour delay due to signal failure on the west-coast and and then a smashed car window awaiting us. There are a couple more proof copies and early birthday books that aren’t photographed but the latter will hopefully have others to join it in a few days…

The proof copies that are featured were unexpectedly sent to me by Sceptre and Windmill books, respectively; the first is the much-anticipated new novel by David Mitchell, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, and the other is Jasper Jones by Craig Silvey, which has been receiving some very favourable whispers in the book world.

Victoria from Virago (Abacus is another imprint of Little, Brown) offered to send me a copy of Hearts and Minds by Amanda Craig after reading my response to the Orange longlist; this is one of the shortlisted titles that I am most looking forward to reading and whilst I was in Glasgow Verity text me to inform me that it is “AMAZING”.  Now I am conflicted whether to read it before the other Orange title that I am desperate to read: The Still Point by Amy Sackville… which do you suggest I read first?

Virago also sent me a copy of Wilderness Tips by Margaret Atwood after I won it in one of the Twitter competitions they regularly hold. This is a collection of some of Atwood’s short stories and one of the few books of hers that I didn’t own.

I was also the delighted recipient of the Man Booker-winning The Conservationist by Nadine Gordimer from Bloomsbury; I have been wanting to read more Gordimer since reading July’s People earlier this month.

Contests to win a signed copy of Solar by Ian McEwan have been hosted by a few bloggers recently and I was the lucky winner from Simon of Stuck-in-a-Book.  The premise of the novel doesn’t appeal to me all that much but I have a feeling that it’s going to continue to be discussed this year and I’d like to be privy to the content!

I am not a fan of posts that are simply means to show off books that bloggers have been sent by publishers and I realise that this one is quite abundant with books that I have received directly from publishers… if it’s any consolation, I caved and bought The Still Point and Don’t Tell Alfred by Nancy Mitford (in the cute edition that some of you are and aren’t as fond of as I am) as I was keen to read both.

Have you acquired and/or read any of these?

Rebecca Finch, the protagonist, is a Romance novelist who is jaded when it comes to love; not only is this is hazardous to her writing career but it is damaging to the powers-that-be.  Aphrodite and her son Eros are being damaged in the age of romantic disillusionment and the loss of their acolyte, Rebecca, whose novels lift the hopes of the unlucky-in-love, is an embarrassment; on Mount Olympus the Greek God and her cherubic offspring decide to intervene in Rebecca’s love-life.

From the prologue, Aphrodite’s Workshop for Reluctant Lovers is a witty and engaging read that I thoroughly enjoyed. Greek mythology fascinates me and I found the wry employment of the Gods and of Eros, the anthropomorphic explanation for a phenomenon, witty and clever; Eros calls Zeus “Grandpa” at one point and it is very entertaining to see the pettiness of the immortal dieties.  On Mount Olympus the Gods watch the mortals as if they are participants in a reality TV show with Eros accused of watching America too often and Aphrodite watching back video tapes as she cannot get a handle on DVDs. Rebecca and John Sterling, the loverinterest, were fated to meet and fall in love years earlier but never did … due to the drunken incompetence of Eros one New Year’s Eve (he had been drinking with Dionysus).  Aphrodite’s “workshop” takes the form of therapy sessions, sessions that she manipulates to bring together Rebecca and John. Aphrodite in the guise of therapist is often literal-minded and quips about never having met Socrates in person; I was particularly amused by this exchange with Rebecca:

‘I tell you, that little bastard Cupid and his arrows of mass-production have a lot to answer for.’

‘Eros, his name is Eros.  Cupid is a vulgar Roman invention.’

I was a little taken aback by how seriously she took her classics.

‘And he’s not that bad: lazy, yes, sloppy in his work, yes, and come to think of it a bastard, yes, but he’s a good boy really.’

On the surface Aphrodite’s Workshop for Reluctant Lovers is a romantic novel with a comic and quirky premise (Rebecca also has an imaginary bully, Coco the bipolar clown) but it also has another layer that cleverly acts as commentary on the genre of romantic fiction.  Rebecca is a romantic novelist who debunks the illusion of romantic love and Cobbold can be quite self-deprecating and even derisive about the genre whilst, ultimately, defending it.  Her thoughts on Jane Austen (bottom quote) I concur with and I sought the Austenesque ending.

Favorite passages:

She was engrossed by the novel she was reading; I could tell from her changing expressions and the way she turned the pages with fingers that could barely wait for the eyes to catch up.

Words were dangerous things.  Once let out they took on a life of their own, pulling consequences along with them, reproducing, prompting reactions, making solid that which had been shadowy and only partially formed.  Words, once spoken or written, chased your illusions away.

But Jane Austen is no romantic, not really. She wrote about people falling in love and we know, with delicious anticipation, that the book will have what we think of as a happy ending: a wedding.  But most of her alliances are formed out of good sense as much as sensibility.  Back then, romance knew its place: as a passing diversion from the important issues like a home, raising a family, working, handing something down.  Romantic love is the icing.  The trouble comes when you eat the icing and throw away the cake.

Happy Valentine’s Day! Above is an insight into how I shall be spending my day.  My boyfriend bought me a box of delicious Valentine’s cupcakes and I shall be curled up beside him today eating those and reading about love (and feeling it).

Mid-week I received a  wrapped package from the lovely Alice at Bloomsbury; inside were a copy of Aphrodite’s Workshop for Reluctant Lovers by Marika Cobbold, a bar of Green & Black’s chocolate, and a note to say that Valentine’s Day is a day to indulge in guilty pleasures.  I could not agree with the sentiment more.  I am thoroughly enjoying Cobbold’s quirky tale of a Romance novelist who has fallen out of love and incurred the wrath of Aphrodite and her son, Eros, whose career has been brought into disrepute.  I also have Love by Elizabeth Von Arnim to immerse myself in; after being enchanted by The Enchanted April last Spring, it is about time that I sought out some more of this wonderful author.

Whether you are being spoiled today or indulging yourself, enjoy your Valentine’s Day.