#indiechallenge – Independence Day & Other Stories (Pramoedya Ananta Toer, translated by Willem Samuels)

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The blurb

In these three warm and nuanced tales, Indonesia’s supreme storyteller Pramoedya Ananta Toer gives us vivid, memorable characters caught between optimism and a darker place.

A disabled veteran of his country’s war of independence against the Dutch slowly succumbs to despair; a child bride’s lost innocence is cherished by her observant younger neighbour; and a young boy views his impending circumcision with anxiety and excitement on account of its significance – and the gifts that will accompany it.

The author

Pramoedya Ananta Toer (1925-2006), one of Indonesia’s most important writers, was the author of more than thirty books – all of which were banned in Indonesia at various times. A resolute political activist, he was incarcerated by the Dutch colonial authorities and again by the Sukarno and Suharto regimes.

The translator

Willem Samuels is the pen name of John H. McGlynn. He is a long-term resident of Indonesia, having lived in Jakarta almost continuously since 1976. He has translated several dozen books, subtitled scores of Indonesian feature films and produced more than thirty documentary films on Indonesian writers.

The publisher

Paper + Ink produce miniature collections of short stories, many in translation.

How I got this book

This was a freebie from the London Book Fair.

The bingo card

This could count towards: ‘An author from another country’; ‘A new to you press’; ‘Translated book’; or ‘Marginalised people’.

My thoughts

A little book, and quick to read – I got through the first two stories on the tube back from Kensington, which wasn’t even delayed. But it punches above its weight: all three stories are powerful and atmospheric, and they all have a sting in the tail. Hypocrisy and inequity are exposed – but that’s as far as it goes. There aren’t any easy answers here.

#indiechallenge – Go The Way Your Blood Beats (Michael Amherst)

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The blurb

Using bisexuality as a frame, Go the Way Your Blood Beats questions the division of sexuality into straight and gay, in a timely exploration of the complex histories and psychologies of human desire.

A challenge to the idea that sexuality can either ever be fully known or neatly categorised, it is a meditation on desire’s unknowability. Interwoven with anonymous addresses to past loves – the sex of whom remain obscure – the book demonstrates the universalism of human desire.

Part essay, part memoir, part love letter, Go the Way Your Blood Beats asks us to see desire and sexuality as analogous with art – a mysterious, creative force.

The author

Michael Amherst is a writer of fiction and non-fiction. His work has been published internationally, including in the Guardian, New Statesman, the Spectator, The White Review and Contrappasso magazine. He is currently a PhD candidate at Birkbeck, University of London.

The publisher

Repeater Books – I quote from its website – is dedicated to the creation of a new reality. The landscape of twenty-first-century arts and letters is faded and inert, riven by fashionable cynicism, egotistical self-reference and a nostalgia for the recent past. Repeater intends to add its voice to those movements that wish to enter history and assert control over its currents, gathering together scattered and isolated voices with those who have already called for an escape from Capitalist Realism.

It’s an imprint of Watkins Media, which was set up in the 1890s to fill the mysticism and occultism niche.

The bookshop

This is another one from the wonderful Gay’s The Word.

The bingo card

This one comes in under ‘A new to you press’, ‘A book from your TBR’, ‘Marginalised people’, ‘Book that defies genre’, ‘Non-fiction’, ‘LGBTQIA’, and very possibly ‘Favourite’.

My thoughts

At 122 pages, this is a short book, and I read it in a hurry, trying to get it in before I went away on holiday. I’m going to have to go back and reread it slowly, because there is an awful lot in there, and I think I missed quite a lot.

It’s all sorts of things: it’s a review of the scholarship around bisexuality; it’s a rant about bi erasure in popular media, and the damage caused by intrusive questioning; it’s a glimpse into someone else’s love life; it’s a reading list. (I haven’t ever read anything by James Baldwin.)

But mostly it felt like a long, rambling, night in a quietish pub, having drunk just enough not to be afraid of one’s own opinions, talking to somebody who really gets what it’s like. I was reading it on my morning commute, without so much as a cup of coffee in hand, but I felt as if I should have had a nearly-empty pint glass, and be waving my hands around, and exclaiming, ‘Yes! Exactly!‘ a lot.

The Reader’s Gazetteer: I

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Ixania, in Eric Ambler’s The Dark Frontier, possibly shouldn’t be included in this gazetteer, because the name is stated to be fictitious. (So is that of the country’s capital, Zovgorod.) This annoys me irrationally. Maybe it still begins with I.

The Dark Frontier is a good deal of fun, however, at the same time sending up and gloriously indulging itself in the tropes of the Ruritanian thriller. The mild-mannered, idealistic, scientist (a stereotype in his own right) gets a knock on the head and becomes convinced that he’s Conway Carruthers, the hero of the pulp novel he was reading before the accident. And there’s a good train journey, all the way from Paris to Bâle and then east from there:

Carruthers watched the mountains of Switzerland and Austria pass in slow review. Then for some hours, they ran across wind-driven plains. On the second night, he again saw the lights of houses gleaming up high as they climbed into the mountain country of Transylvania. They stopped at stations of which he had never heard, but there were some familiar names – Budapest, Cluj, Sinaia, Ploesti…

[they change train at Bucharest]

… The train for Zovgorod proved to be composed mainly of empty cattle trucks with two very dirty coaches and a mail van hitched to the rear. They were not due in Zovgorod until 7 A. M. the following morning and Carruthers did not look forward to the two-hundred-and-fifty-mile journey ahead…

… Leaning on the window-rail he gazed out into the gathering darkness. Far away he could see a line of hills traced delicately against the strip of cold cerulean sky left by a dying sun. The clouds still hung, black and heavy, overhead. The sound of the train seemed to echo across the plain as if in a great waiting silence. He turned his head towards the freshening breeze.

So, whatever Ixania’s really called, we can at least make a guess at where it is.

I came across Annals of the Parish, by John Galt, via the delightful Clothes in Books blog a couple of months ago. It’s presented as a memoir by the parish minister, covering the years from 1760 to 1810. Most of the action takes place in the village of Dalmailing, so I’ll have to add that on to the D blog. The nearest town, however, is Irville, which, we learn over the course of the book, has at one time or another:

  • a dancing school
  • a chaise
  • links with shipping
  • and with coal
  • New Inns, plural
  • a market
  • a grocery shop

and generally seems to be where things happen. A footnote tells us that in the real world it’s Irvine. I’m counting it.

Books mentioned in this post

The Dark Frontier, Eric Ambler

Annals of the Parish, John Galt

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#indiechallenge – Love/War (Ebba Witt-Brattström, translated by Kate Lambert)

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The blurb

He said:
I look at you
and I ask myself
if a woman’s vanity is increased
by living with a successful man.

She said:
That was the stupidest thing
I’ve ever heard.
Even from you.

A marriage in its final death throes; half a life lived together, now ending. Raging, bitter, sad and scathing, Ebba Witt-Brattström’s debut novel introduces a bold voice in contemporary European fiction.

The author

Ebba Witt-Brattström is currently Professor of Nordic Literature at Helsinki University. She has received numerous awards for her work and was one of the founding members of the Feminist Initiative party.

The translator

Kate Lambert is a freelance translator working from Swedish and Finnish into British English in the depths of Somerset in South-West England. She has been working as a translator since 1996 and specialises in the arts and humanities, especially history and tourism. (She’s also a friend of mine, which is how I came to hear about the book in the first place.)

The publisher

Nordisk Books is an independent publishing house in Whitstable, founded in 2016 and with a focus on modern and contemporary Scandinavian literature.

The bookshop

I ordered this directly from the publisher.

The bingo card

This could count towards: ‘An author from another country’; ‘A new to you press’; ‘A debut’; ‘Translated book’; ‘Out of your comfort zone’; or ‘Book that defies genre’.

My thoughts

I don’t think I’ve ever read anything quite like this. Sitting somewhere between poetry and prose, this is a fly-on-the-wall film of the slow, painful, disintegration of a relationship between two people who should probably have split up a long time ago. The ‘Love/War’ of the title hints at the partners’ opposite and incompatible understandings of the nature of the relationship – both what it was, and what it’s become.

A war doesn’t actually end
until one side is
totally defeated
or dead

She said:
You’re talking power politics
my dear.
When lovers are at war
there are no winners
only losers.

The extract quoted in the blurb is a good sample of the style; the disjointed dialogue continues to the bitter end. And it’s peppered with literary allusions in several different languages (sources and translations are provided at the back) – these are clever, educated people, who are just as susceptible to making a pig’s ear of their personal lives as anybody else. He’s abusive; she’s embittered. Nobody’s having any fun here; and yet I laughed. Usually it was because of a particularly well-chosen quotation.

It’s very readable; the conversation carried me along with it, as much as I was hoping for everybody’s sake for it all to be over. As in poetry, every word counts, and they’ve been chosen well.

On the Exeter Novel Prize shortlist

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Exeter is one of my favourite cities. It’s where I went to university; it’s where a lot of my friends still live; it’s a lovely place to go back to.

And – as I’ve been fortunate enough to be reminded this year – it’s always nice to be on the shortlist for a literary prize.

So I’m doubly pleased to have had A Spoke In The Wheel shortlisted for the 2018 Exeter Novel Prize. I’m very much looking forward to going down to Exeter for the awards ceremony. It’s a good excuse to revisit old haunts, catch up with some people I haven’t seen for ages, and, I’m sure, meet some new ones.

Incidentally, the price of the paperback edition of A Spoke In The Wheel at Amazon.co.uk continues to drop. At the time of posting it’s down at £4.55. I’ve no idea how long that will last…

 

Another #IndieAthon done

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IndieAthon is done for another year. I got further through that rather spontaneous TBR pile than I expected, reading:

I also read, but have still to write up:

  • Love/War (Ebba Witt-Brattström, translated by Kate Lambert)
  • Go The Way Your Blood Beats: on truth, bisexuality and desire (Michael Amherst)
  • Smash All The Windows (Jane Davis)

That makes a book for each day of the readathon week, which isn’t bad going.

I will note that those boots let me down, and the water in, during a rainy but pleasant short break in Lille. I’ll have to save them for dry days in future.

And finally, the UK Amazon store has the paperback edition of A Spoke In The Wheel marked down by 40% at present. I’ve no idea why. The inner workings of Amazon are a mystery to me!

The Selfies Award: congratulations to Jane Davis

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Yesterday I attended the London Book Fair for the first time ever, thanks to BookBrunch, who provided free tickets to everyone on the Selfies Award shortlist. In the morning I spoke as part of a panel of four on the experience of self-publishing; then I met up with a friend and we went out along a very wet Kensington High Street to get some lunch and agree that the whole thing was very impressive but a bit overwhelming, and then I was back in time to wander around the fair a bit more before the awards ceremony.

The Selfies Award went to Jane Davis for Smash All The Windows (just under my arm in the picture), and it’s very well deserved. I can’t think of anyone who puts more work into making self-published books into a really high quality product, or, for that matter, anyone who does so much to support and encourage other authors in the field. Congratulations, Jane!