Call me naive, but I was NOT expecting this term to get so hectic. Final year final term, I probably should've guessed....I've been so busy with various birthdays and events, let alone writing and handing in the PENULTIMATE essay of my degree, I literally haven't had a spare second to attend to my poor blog.
Luckily, my reading week is coming up so I'm hoping to get some precious *leisurely* reading time in, as well as catching up on a few posts about some delicious new recipes and restaurants I've tried. But, for now, I have a quick flash review of two books that I've finally managed to finish in the past week!
Lettice and Victoria - Susanna Johnston
First up, another book I was generously sent by the wonderful Arcadia Books. I begged them for a copy after seeing various online reviews heralding it as a hilarious black comedy - the title really gives nothing away and I didn't know what to expect. It was unclear (for me, anyway) exactly when the novel is set - although there are enough references to authors such as Henry James, not to mention the fixation on the English Manners tradition, to place it in the early 20th century. Coincidentally, I began reading it as I was writing an essay on Evelyn Waugh, so the incessant mockery of the shallow 'manners' of English society along with the unlikeability of almost every character was really highlighted for me, and placed Johnston within this literary satirical tradition.
Loosely, we follow Victoria, a young woman starting off as a live-in 'amanuensis' to an old, blind man of letters in an isolated house in Italy. I say loosely because the perspective of narration often changes - sometimes we get Victoria, sometimes Lettice - her competitive mother-in-law - and often more minor characters, merely for a sentence or two. The story indeed follows Victoria, but each new character becomes an accessory to whatever part of her life they appear in, nothing more. Although this begins to beg the question: to what end are these accessories a means? The novel is one of the most fast paced I've read, spanning almost an entire lifetime in 166 pages, mostly consisting of short sentences and dialogue. This achieves a certain nihilism in the plot itself - the characters could be anyone, the story could detail anything, the true point of this novel seemed to be an unrelenting mockery of the 'keeping up appearances' tradition to the point of utmost stupidity and ridiculousness. Lettice is the main vehicle of this, Victoria the onlooker, unwillingly caught up.
I realised I wasn't reading on because I cared dramatically about any of the characters, but to find out how they would get out of each new problematic situation whilst maintaining the all-encompassing necessity for manners that dictates each of their lives. Johnson has achieved a novel that left me laughing still after the last word, loving the simultaneous implausibility and plausibility of the whole thing.
Just Kids - Patti Smith
Now onto a book that couldn't be more opposite. I'm not going to write a huge amount on this, when I've read a book and finished thinking 'this person is a true genius' I don't feel I can justify actually 'reviewing' them myself - it just feels a bit egotistical.
I picked this book up randomly on sale in HMV one day - I'd of course heard of Patti Smith, I'd heard some of her music and her spoken poetry, but I wanted to know more.
This book documents the story of her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe alongside the growth of both of their careers - and it is truly beautiful. Although autobiographical, the book could easily pass for fiction in the style it's written - each sentence conjures an image of the creative passion of the author without any of the pretentious tone you might find in a fictional work. For me it was this writing that paid perfect tribute to both Patti and Robert's talent.
This is a love story about every kind of love: sexual love, romantic love, artistic love, passionate love, and ultimately the love of friendship and companionship, without which neither Robert or Patti would've achieved the fame or artistic acclaim they have today. One of the truest memoirs I have read, this is not a completely gritty, glorifying account of the rock and roll lifestyle, it's ultimately a tribute to the relationship between two people - the unabashed honesty makes it often sad, often funny, always fascinating.
A must read for any fan of Patti Smith or Robert Mapplethorpe, incredible in the way it opens up both of their work to a new light and level of enjoyment and emotion, but also an incredibly moving, beautiful story of the strength of love and creative connection between two people.
Robert Mapplethorpe - Self-portrait 1972
Inspired by this overarching quality in the book, I called it a 'flash of the unity of loneliness within the crowd of humanity' - this came out of the way the characters were so contrasting - from ex-con to caretaker to frustrated husband - and yet all linked through the extreme loneliness that drives them to Nanou. Her service becomes less sexual and more emotional - if only for a few minutes. Through this, the choice of each character becomes random, they are each a chance cross-section of humanity, through their own detachment from it they convey it in all its terrifying immensity.
