The patron saint of eels

Regular readers of this blog may remember a book recommendation from Jacqui late last year - The patron saint of eels by Gregory Day.

It was one of the books I took away on a recent trip, and most definitely added to my holiday experience. Jacqui, you were right - what an incredibly unique and beautiful book. I absolutely loved it.

The patron saint of eels is gentle, evocative and deeply Australian. Set in a coastal Victorian town, it's the story of Noel and Nanette, two life-long friends saddened by the changes occurring in their town, and the loss of their community's connection to the landscape around it. They long for a time when life was less complex, when the miraculous was commonplace.

When spring rains flood a nearby swamp, hundreds of eels are washed downstream and become trapped in a ditch near Noel's home. Coming to their rescue is Fra Ionio, a Franciscan monk who has travelled a long way to save the eels - and remind Noel and Nanette about the important things in their lives.

I love the concepts in this book (in no particular order):
- the knowledge of our finite existence creates the intensity of our senses, driving desire, taste, lust etc;
- life is full of "gaps", between those experiencing great joy and great suffering (who are often oblivious each can be of each other, even when the physical distances between them are not great);
- that we have a connection to nature, and any truly theistic view of the world understands that God exists in all things;
- that there are miracles in nature everyday, we just don't stand still long enough to see them; and
- a truly religious journey means being real in the midst of life, not hiding away.

The novel offers a profoundly contemplative look at life and spirituality. Interestingly, although the concepts may at first seem very eastern, they reflect an important (and so far relatively isolated) shift in Judeo-Christian theology: that life and death, joy and grief, success and failure all have equal value in a life of meaning.

Reading The patron saint of eels, I was reminded, time and again, of the writings of Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest in the US who writes about contemplative prayer, the power of simply "being" rather than "doing", and the equal validity of pain and suffering in the spiritual journey.

His book Everything Belongs (non-fiction) is one of the most profound pieces of writing I've ever read. I've re-read it many times over the years (and still struggled to hang on to its lessons for more than a few days at a time). I'm now reading another of his books, Simplicity: The freedom of letting go, which continues the contemplative theme.

I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts on books that have changed the way they look at the world (fiction or non-fiction), or if anyone else has read The patron saint of eels ... or anything else you might like to talk about as it relates to great stories.

Books you know you should read, but can't get into

It's the topic we book lovers avoid discussing, the thing we like to keep secret: books we know we should read, but just can't get into.

You know what I'm talking about: that award-winning, critically acclaimed book that everyone's talking about. The one you pick up to read, struggle through for 50 pages or so, and look longingly at the next title waiting on your to-read pile.

You want to read it. You want to enjoy it. You want to be able to talk to your friends about it. But every time you try to get going, it's like exercising. You have to concentrate and it's hard work.

I used to push through the pain and force myself to finish those books. Now, I figure life's too short, there are too many other books to read. So I give myself 50 pages, and if I'm not hooked by then, it's all over.

(A librarian friend tells me the number of pages you should give yourself to like a book should reduce the older you get.)

Of course all this has been leading up to a confession. I couldn't get into The Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole. The great Pulitzer Prize-winning novel published 10 years after the author committed suicide.

I really wanted to like this book, and I persevered longer than I usually would because it was loaned to me by a friend. And I know exactly why I couldn't get into it: the story's protagonist is the most obnoxious character I've ever read. I had no sympathy for him, and truly couldn't give a crap what happens to him through the story (particularly when I learned he undergoes no redemptive process whatsoever).

In fact, there were no sympathetic characters at all, leaving me very little interest in what happened to anyone.

Now, clearly, this sort of characterisation and intentional lack of redemption is a powerful way to tell a story and make a point, but apparently it doesn't necessarily engage me as a reader (and yet, I don't have the same issues with stories told on the screen - eg, Napoleon Dynamite, a movie I love).

In looking for the cover artwork to put with this post, I came across more reviews raving about this novel, and have had a fresh bout of literary guilt (promising myself I will attempt it again one day). Maybe my mistake was trying to make it holiday reading, when it clearly is not…

Am I the only one afflicted by such struggles?

What happens when you finish reading?

Here's a question posed to me this week:

What do people do after they've read a book? How do you absorb what you've read and work out how you feel about it?

It was a question from Daniel (henceforth known as "Golden Serpent" - see last post for explanation), who I now hope will share his thoughts.

For me, depending on the novel and how much it's impacted on me, I usually sit for a while and just let it settle into my brain. Often there's a meal waiting to be made (sometimes several hours late, depending on how desperate I was to get to the last page), so I'll think about it while I'm preparing food.

I also have a habit of going back to the book and re-reading pages, paragraphs or even entire chapters that particularly resonated with me.

I have a couple of avid readers among my close friends, so I'll usually tell them about a book I've loved/been fascinated by, and encourage them to read it so I have someone to talk to about it! I've also been known to surf the web for reviews, author interviews etc, so I can live with the book for just that little bit longer.

And, of course, now I write a blog!

I'd really love for anyone interested to share their thoughts (if you're reading this - that means you!) . It could make for a good discussion.

A blokey tale

My last book of 2007 was an action-packed read by new Australian author Mark Abernethy.

I heard Mark speak at the Brisbane Writers' Festival this year, and then read a few reviews talking up his debut novel, Golden Serpent, so I thought I'd check it out.

It's been a while since I've read a spy thriller, but I can still say this is one of the best offerings from that genre I've read - possibly the best.

Probably the most likeable aspect of the story - a complex plot involving terrorist and political machinations in South East Asia - is that the hero is fallible - and not in a cliched way.

It also helps that he's Australian and the action takes place on Australia's doorstep. The conspiracies and espionage at the heart of the story give a fascinating glimpse of Australia's involvement in post September 11 intelligence activities in the Pacific region.

In what looks like being the first of a series of thrillers featuring Alan 'Mac' McQueen (he lives up to the name, don't worry), Abernethy creates a world where tough men cry, wounds actually hurt, and the bad guys don't all have foreign passports.

The prose is tight, the narrative lean, and exposition provided through believable dialogue between multi-dimensional characters. Abernethy definitely doesn't talk down to his readers, and the Australian attitudes and slang make for some lighter moments. The author also knows his stuff, and writes with firm authority.

OK, so this was a very blokey read - and I couldn't put it down. No doubt the film option for Golden Serpent has already been snatched up, so it probably won't be long before Mac makes it to the big screen.

You can find out more about Mark Abernethy at http://www.allenandunwin.com/default.aspx?page=311&author=192 and more about Golden Serpent at http://www.alanmcqueen.com/books.html

How to talk about books you haven't read

It turns out the trick to good literary conversation isn't reading books - it's just being able to talk about them.

Pierre Bayard, a professor of literature at Paris University, has written How to talk about books you haven't read, a bluffer's guide to literary chatting (reviewed by Barry Oakley in The Weekend Australian's Review this weekend).

According to Bayard, it's not the book itself that's important, it's the ideas - and the connections between them - that give literature value. For this reason, it's easy to talk about books you haven't read if you have an opinion on the ideas they are exploring.

Bayard says even the most thorough reading of a book soon shrinks into a summary. It's a reasonable point: you can spend a week reading a book and then explain it to someone in less than a minute. He says it then disappears even further over time (unless, of course you have a blog!).

It's an interesting viewpoint, but I can't quite embrace the idea that reading books isn't important. What would be the point in writing a book if people only read the synopsis and then launched into a discussion about it? What's the value of the author's viewpoint if nobody reads it? And if only one person needs to read a book to be able to summarise it for everyone else, who decides who gets to do the actual reading?

Bit too hard really. I like the idea that people read books, taking from them what they need or want (consciously and sub-consciously) and then those people further discuss the themes and ideas to expand and explore their own understanding. Discussion about literary ideas should complement reading, not replace it.

But then, of course, I've just blogged about ideas in a book I haven't read ...

A little bit of whimsy

What makes a story whimsical?

Tonight, I watched Mr Magorium's Wonder Emporium and yes, as you'd guess from the title, it was whimsical.

It's a sweet story about an eccentric owner of a magical toy store (Dustin Hoffman) who wants his store manager (Natalie Portman ) to trust in her own ability to create magic. Then there's young hat collector Eric (Zach Mills), who lives and breathes the store but struggles to make friends, and the very un-magical Henry (Jason Bateman), an accountant - or 'mutant' as the Emporium trio call him - trying to make sense of several hundred years of paperwork and unable to see the miraculous around him.

There are no real surprises in the tale, but the engaging cast, and a script that doesn't patronise its audience, makes it easy to get caught up in the idea that the only thing limiting our enjoyment of life (and the little wonders in it) is our lack of imagination.

Is that what whimsy is? The ability to see beyond the obvious, to find something "more" in everyday life? My friend Bec (who has a fantastic blog called 'Special Small Stuff' http://specialsmallstuff.blogspot.com/) understands this all too well. I recommend her musings when you want to find a serene corner of the world to spend a few minutes in.

I'd love to be able to write the sort of fable-esque story that leaves people feeling the way I did when I left the cinema tonight ... wanting to see the best in the world. Part of me knows it's a naivety, and that in itself is kind of sad.

On the way home tonight, I tuned in to ABC Classic FM. It was broadcasting a Christmas concert by the Adelaide Chamber Singers, recorded in St Peter's Cathedral. Listening to those beautiful voices singing 17th century carols seemed oddly appropriate for my mood. Which made me wonder why fantasy (like the movie) and human voices singing songs from another age have more power to transport us beyond ourselves than most contemporary songs, stories etc.

Then again, maybe I've just finally caught the spirit of the season, and am starting to think beyond the next thing on my to-do list...

Merry Christmas.

Dexter - not your average crime show

Now here's a unique way to tell a story: a TV series about a serial killer, who kills serial killers (and any other criminals who seem to escape the justice system).

Dexter started on the new Foxtel channel Showcase this week. Based on novels by crime writer Jeff Lindsay, it's about a guy with a need to kill, who's learned to channel it into a macabre vigilante tool (thanks to his foster father cop).

But while there's certainly some startlingly graphic violence (to remind us just what Dexter is capable of), this show also has some of the wittiest writing on television, that's also at times unexpectedly profound. Most of the (very dark) humour comes through Dexter's voice-overs, as he calmly and - often sadly - shares his reflections on himself and the world around him.

By day, Dexter is a blood spatter expert with the Miami Police. By night, he metes out the justice his colleague's can't.

At the core of this show is the question: can you do good by doing bad? Dexter is loaded with moral ambiguity, which is compounded by the thoughtful, complex performance of Michael C. Hall (from Six Feet Under), who more often than not makes Dexter likeable.

There are some disturbing moments: in fact, the first time I stumbled across the show I saw a scene out of context and immediately switched off - but then, when watching it in context, it was still unsettling, but at least I understood why it was there. Definitely not for everyone.

Yes, there's always a chance this show could encourage the very sort of behaviour it depicts. But when you look past the shock factor, Dexter asks some fascinating questions, which are worth seeking answers for, given these types of people really do exist in society.

The Weekend Australian's Review lift-out had a great article this weekend about the show by Graeme Blundell, but it's still not available online. So, in the meantime, here's a bit more about the show for anyone interested:
http://www.boston.com/ae/tv/articles/2006/09/30/stylishly_graphicdexter_pleases_with_a_killer_twist/

Anyone else watched this show or have any thoughts about it?