The Good Soldier by Ford Madox Ford

Occasionally I succumb to those lists that tell us what to read.  The Good Soldier (1915) by English author Ford Madox Ford appears in most of those "Best novels.."  or  "100 best English-language novels of the twentieth century" type lists, and I was curious to see what all the fuss was about, because apart from seeing the novel in those lists, I had not heard of it.

The novel is set at the beginning of the twentieth century, before WWI.  It focuses on the friendship between two upper class couples, John and Florence Dowell from the US and Eward and Leonora Ashburnham who are landed gentry in England.  The couples meet in a German health spa.  The novel is told in the first person by the American, John Dowell, and centres around his explanation of the downfall of his friend Edward, the good soldier of the title.

I have mixed feelings about this book, that I think are partially influenced by my high expectations going in that were not fully realised.  The subject matter of the book reminds me alot of Somerset Maugham novels, which I love, all of the, behind the acceptable social veneer of "happy couples."  Maugham goes in for alot of the transatlantic comparisons of social mores in the first part of twentieth century too.  Maybe reminiscent of F Scott Fitzgerald also.

Structurally the book is very unusual and I would say ground breaking for its time.  The narrator is unreliable (trust me, this is not much of a spoiler, because it is very subtle compared to the unreliable narrators that have been used since), and the story is told in out of sequence flashbacks.  It is all very clever, and I found myself engaged and eager to arrive at the end, as there is a growing tension in the narration; from the outset the reader is made aware that there is something inconsistent in the storytelling.

The novel is packed with clever symbolism. A motif of the heart is used repeatedly to good effect.  The story begins at the German health spa because two of the partners have "heart" difficulties.  There is lots of talk of weak hearts etc, and that is what this story is really all about.  The characters all lack personal insight into their own hearts and for this reader at least, seemed quite heartless.

But you know, clever and "stylistically perfect" as I have heard the novel lauded, does not necessarily equal an enjoyable or "I love it" reading experience does it?  I did not love it.  Mostly because all of the characters are so unlikeable and joyless.  And I am sure that is the point.  I am sure Madox Ford is writing about some sort of self-absorption of the upper classes in England leading up to WWI.  As a study in relationships, or relationships between married couples, I would much rather read Somerset Maugham.  The Dowells and the Ashburnhams are equally awful and his depiction of the women in the story seems unusually harsh. But that is part of the plotting cleverness as it is all tied up in the narration and form of the story.  Even so, the female characters are either painted as domineering and cold, or soulless and wanton.  And again I think this is the point, our narrator is very sympathetic to Edward, the good soldier, and perhaps is speaking to the sadness of his plight.  Well this female reader was left fairly unmoved by the male characters feeling sorry for themselves, and behaving badly none the less.

I would love to know if others have read this and what they think.  It is a classic book, I was just left a bit disappointed. It is however the sort of book I would consider rereading, because there is so much to the structure, I am sure some of the subtleties were missed by me, the first time round.

Teaser Tuesday 13 December

Teaser Tuesday is hosted by MizB over at Should Be Reading.  It is a chance to share a non spoiling sample of your current read.  I am reading a gothic romance mystery, The Distant Hours, by Kate Morton:

"Quite." Percy Blythe straightened and I became aware suddenly that she didn't like Mrs Bird.  'Now if you will both excuse me." She bowed her head towards the open door, through which the outside world  seemed a brighter, noisier, faster place than when I'd left it.  p.88

I am really enjoying this novel so far, about a big creepy house and secrets of long ago.

Audio Book Heaven: My Two Favourite Listens This Year

Readers of this blog may know that I regularly listen to audio books. Let's not debate if such listening qualifies as reading, or any of that sort of nonsense.  There are differences between listening to a story being read and reading it yourself, of course, and I am always clear which I am talking about. Listening to an unabridged audio book is simply another way to absorb a story.  And frankly, the experience can be heavenly, depending on the beauty of the language and the skill of the narrator.  Audio books bring the magic of fiction, or non-fiction if you prefer, to those times when holding a book or e-reader would not be practical.  More stories, more of the time, who can lose?  The two that follow are pure bliss.

Prodigal Summer written and narrated by Barbara Kingsolver  was my introduction to this author.  I know a number of you love her work.  The plot comprises three, gently overlapping, stories set in the Appalachian area of the US.  Kingsolver's language and voice are hypnotic.  I found her storytelling, and gift for entwining nature metaphors in her prose, like nothing I have ever heard (or read) before.  I remember listening to this one mostly as I walked around my neighbourhood or was doing the dishes.  I can still hear her languid and lilting Appalachian drawl when I think about this story.  I remember just floating in the beauty of her prose.  The stories depict the natural flow and ebb of human relations, to each other and the environment; I loved the whole experience.

My second pick for a real audible standout, is Geraldine Brooks Caleb's Crossing.  This one is narrated by Jennifer Ehle who you may remember played Elizabeth Bennett in the 1995 miniseries of Pride and Prejudice.  I read Brooks first novel Year of Wonders earlier this year and loved it, so was keen to experience something else by her.  Brooks is a brilliant storyteller of historically themed fiction.  In Caleb's Crossing she incorporates the history of Martha's Vineyard, where she has made her own home with her family, with the story of Caleb, the first Native American to attend Harvard back in 1665.  Or at least, it is the fictionalised version of what might have been his story.  What is so intriguing with Brooks novels is that she always starts with one piece of historical fact, here the first Native American student at Harvard in 1665, and spins her magical tales from there.

The story is told from the point of view of Bethia, a young girl living on the island with her pioneering family, who secretly befriends the young boy Caleb.  This story was not what I expected or predicted.  It is tragic and soulful and I am in awe of what Brooks has achieved. 

Ehle's narration is equally impressive as she produces the Puritan English and Native American speech effortlessly.  This is the perfect example of where I know I have taken more from listening to the story being read by an expert, than I would have if I had struggled to imagine the unfamiliar language myself.

On average I have listened to one audio book per month for the last four years, and these two are as good as any I have heard.  I would recommend them to everyone.  Especially to those that have not yet been converted to the audio book or may be wondering where to start.

When the going gets tough, I seem to read crime fiction.

I don't know about you, but the end of year usually sees a bit of an energy decline and emotional overload for me.  I am not sure the precise reason, but my reading did slow down over the last few weeks.  Fortunately that little dip has passed, and my reading enthusiasm has been fully restored.  During the slump I did read a couple of fairly decent crime novels.  To be honest, I think that is what I love about crime fiction: yes it is formulaic and predictable at times, but who cares?  Sometimes there is nothing nicer than to plunge into the world of unlikely murder and body disposal, to make one's own life seem positively bliss. 

Firstly I read Skin and Bone by Australian MD and author Kathryn Fox.  It is a very competent police procedural.  Detective Kate Farrer has returned to the homicide squad after three months off.  I liked the character of Kate because she is a bit controlling and irritating.  I guess I liked that she was in some ways unlikeable. Makes for a change from the irascible male detectives and super stylish female pathologists who generally populate the genre.

As to the plot of Skin and Bone, there is nothing especially remarkable about it; we have Kate and co discovering the remains of a burned female corpse, without an immediate identity, and the presence of a nappy bag suggesting that there is a missing baby.  The hunt begins, and of course leads to some very seedy and unlikely connections between the ensuing cast of suspects. 

I think what I enjoyed most about Fox's writing is the interesting medical procedural aspects.  She writes well about the forensic side of things, no doubt her background as a doctor contributes to this, and there is some heart to the story and characters.  For those that like the medium speed police procedural, Fox is worth checking out.


Now to the high speed, sleep depriving , and my current crime writing favourite, Jo Nesbo.  Yes, I couldn't resist going one more round with Detective Harry Hole (pronounced Hula) this year.  The Devil's Star is the fourth Hole novel I have read since discovering this series earlier this year.  Honestly, these books are so "unputdownable" (and yes, I know that is the most irritating and cringy word know to reviewing, but if ever I was going to use it, it will be here) that they should come with a health warning. 

I have tried to think about what makes these books so compelling.  And I can only conclude it is the character of Harry himself.  I mean, it is like Nesbo has taken what we have come to know and love in our irascible detectives and taken it to warp speed.  Harry is not just a little maudlin, brooding, hard drinking and smoking, sparse living, unlucky in love, but irresistible to woman type.  He is much worse than that.  Harry is a full blown alcoholic, a focus of ridicule in the Oslo police force, whose working life reads a bit like a psychedelic drunken binge, lurching from oblivion to self imposed periods of abstinence, where Harry appears only one crumpled cigarette drag from his whole world crashing down around his ears.  Needless to say, at over 190cm tall, this haunted and time ravaged detective is still irresistible to women, and utterly unlucky in love.

Like all of the Hole novels I have read, the plotting of The Devil's Star is complicated but faultless.  By the time the killer is revealed, the reader has been lead through so many turns and culverts, without stopping to draw breath, that the denouement always feels like a gasping relief.  This novel was different for me too, because Oslo is experiencing a heatwave, which completely changes the atmosphere of what I have come to love about the usual ice-packed Scandinavian crime novels.  The heat works, because Harry's alcoholic haze seems even more depressing, everyone is sweating all of the time, and the author has had to be even more creative and macabre in finding ways to hide his murdered corpses. 

In The Devil's Star, Nesbo has delivered another tightly written, high body count, espresso paced crime thriller.  If you like your crime to feel like a surge of adrenaline that won't release you until the last page, you must try these books.

The Consolations of Philosophy by Alain de Botton

I read non fiction so rarely, apart from work related reading, that whenever I find myself reading something for interest and enjoyment that is not fiction I have to wonder if I am feeling unwell.  And as for philosophy,  I know many of the names of the biggies from bits of sound bites gleaned here and there, but that is about all.

Enter Alain de Botton, I am sure the man could make a phone directory seem fascinating.  His style is so witty and light, yet completely relevant, that I found myself unable to put this book down.  The lives and wisdom of Socrates, Epicurus, Seneca, Montaigne, Schopenhauer, and poor old Nietzsche are used by de Botton to offer explanation and consolation of the modern ailments of unpopularity, not having enough money, frustration, inadequacy, a broken heart, and difficulties (difficulties of course being about Nietzsche, he had a great many).

De Botton's own philosophical understanding must be epic, because he manages to distill the teachings of each of these five down to forty or so pages, complete with little pictures and hilarious modern day applications of their teachings.  It is quite brilliant.  And best of all for me, I would feel perfectly comfortable after reading this book to pick up some of the original work (translated of course) that Consolations draws on.  De Botton includes a comprehensive notes section in the back that could direct anyone to do this.

This book has been sitting on my shelf for some years.  I suspect, recently reading Thomas Hardy's Jude the Obscure, might have had something to do with me venturing to pick it up.  Jude's thwarted love of learning really moved me.  See, who said a novel can't change your life?  De Botton has apparently written a book on the very subject regarding Proust.  That one may have to wait, I have his, The Art of Travel waiting to be read next.  If you are interested in Alain de Botton's work, he has a very user friendly website.

Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy

When I finished Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy, one of my first thoughts was that this novel must be approaching the high end of what can be achieved by the art form. This is the second novel I have read by Hardy, the first being Tess of the d'Urbervilles which I read as a teenager, and remember being very moved by the plight of Tess. 

It is of course quite difficult to review these esteemed classics as I am sure there are numerous literary scholars who can, and have, done a better job at dissecting all of the authors intentions and contexts etc.  So I will limit this review to a very sketchy description of the plot and my general impressions, and of course what I liked about it.

Jude the Obscure is Hardy's last novel and was  published in 1896.  My understanding is that there was quite a furore after the publication, because of Hardy's frank treatment of issues around sex, marriage and religious themes in the novel.  The novel also slams the exclusivity of the higher learning institutions of England at the time.

The story begins with Jude as a young boy who is reluctantly taken in by his great aunt, who is a baker in a small town in west England, after both his parents die from illness.  Jude works hard, and becomes a stone mason, but his real passion is for classic learning and he teaches himself as much as he can get his hands on, forever hoping that if he just saves enough money, he will be able to attend one of the illustrious universities of a nearby town.  Jude marries early in the novel to the sensual and pragmatic Arabella, but quickly comes to regret this decision after falling in love with his cousin Susanna, who is quite the opposite to Arabella, being ethereal and intellectual.  Jude and Susanna's disastrous efforts to be together drive the rest of the narrative.

There are numerous themes and layers to the novel.  A few immediately jump out and the other really juicy ones, crept up on me, and aren't fully realised until the final conclusion.  From the outset it is very clear that Hardy is making a statement about the barriers to a man of humble means bettering himself with a higher education, if that is his passion.  One of the moments of most poignancy for me in the novel was a scene towards the end, when the reader learns that throughout his whole blighted life, Jude has carried around with him, his much loved texts, even after his dream of being admitted to university has long faded. 

Then there are the unusually frank themes of marriage and sex, both inside and outside of marriage.  Hardy goes where I am sure no one had gone before in laying bare what marriage meant for the various characters, including from the religious and sexual perspective.  All very extraordinary I am sure for a novel of that era.

And then, there are of course the characters themselves, and the amazingly self-destructive nature of Jude and Susanna's relationship.  I do wonder if other readers of this novel grew to be genuinely irritated by Sue (the ethereal, and intellectual one)?  My take on her is that she is self absorbed to the point of narcissism and that the strongest point in the whole novel is really Jude's unwillingness to tear himself from her, even when the scales are removed from his eyes and he acknowledges to himself, that she is awful and his pursuit of her has caused him nothing but frustration and loneliness.

Arabella, Jude's early wife on the other hand, was a far more likable character, even though Hardy goes to great lengths to paint her as a wanton woman of very dubious morals.  Unlike Jude and his cousin Sue, Arabella demonstrates far more common sense, and even wisdom, when it comes to matters of human relations, than Jude and Sue combined.

The novel is a sweeping and gorgeously realised portrait of a man who is indeed thwarted by the social conventions and limitations of the time, but ultimately, it is his own inner conflicts and self delusion that undoes him.  All of the characters in the novel represent something about him, it is very clever.


Hardy is an expert in exploring the inner workings of his characters, much more so than his use of spoken dialogue.  About half way through the novel I noticed that the characters, especially Jude, were forever walking around, and between, the villages and towns where the story takes place, in every sort of weather.  The walking not only allows for the characters to reflect on what is happening, but of itself, creates this amazing sense of restlessness: the pacing and exertion and not being able to settle and relax.  Jane Austen and her genteel parlours, this is not.

I guess what I am saying is that I became involved with the characters, especially Jude, more than I expected, to the extent that in the last couple of days, when life kept me from finishing the final chapters, I found myself thinking of the novel often and wanted to sneak away to find out what happened.  I don't know about you but, but nineteenth century literature normally does not grip me like that.  So of course, I would recommend this to all; it is one of those books that feels like a priviledge to read, and I also thoroughly enjoyed it.

Vernon God Little by DBC Pierre

Well this book sure is something.  I think I admire parts of it, but I mostly didn't enjoy it.  To be honest I don't think I was supposed to.  It reads like a rant; a satirical, anti western culture rant.  It took me most of the book to even begin to understand why it might have won the the 2003 Booker prize, not to mention a whole swathe of other awards.

As a complete aside, this is the third book I have read in the last month or so, that is at least partly set in Texas, how strange.

Vernon is a 15-year-old who witnesses a shooting massacre at his Texan high school.  Events quickly conspire to implicate Vernon in the shooting.  The premise of the novel, I think, is that society is so awful (especially the media and other aspects of corporate and individual self interest) that a teenager such as Vernon, battling with his grief and trauma from the shooting, not to mention his own "coming of age" issues could be pushed into a position that has nothing to do with justice and everything to do with satisfying the needs of others.

Not surprisingly I think, the novel reminded me of The Catcher in the Rye, and to be honest that novel is not one of my favourites either.  I didn't fully engage with Holden and I certainly didn't warm to Vernon.   Again, I probably wasn't meant to. 

So I don't get bogged down I think from here I am going to keep it simple and say what I felt were the strengths of the novel and what didn't work for me.

The strengths:  The narrative arc of the book is brilliant, all the little bits fit together at the end, and the pace and tension is well maintained.  The humour is dark to the point of excoriation.  Pierre, well and truly makes his point, all is not right with western culture, especially when it comes to our media appetites.  The small town and its characters are also very well drawn, painfully so.  The insecurities and petty back biting feels very real.  I guess most importantly, the writing itself is good, the man can write; great use of dialogue, both internal and spoken.

Where the novel didn't work for me:  I don't think I like satire in my fiction, maybe it is as simple as that.  I want to be moved or entertained by a novel, not yelled at or completely grossed out.  This is an angry and often ridiculing voice, I was put off by it.  I guess my revulsion could be a testament to Pierre's brilliant characterisation because this journey with Vernon feels like going on high speed ride with a foul mouthed, cynical yet vulnerable teenager.  I was glad when it was over.

In short, I will be heading back to the Victorian classics, science fiction and historical fiction. If however, The Catcher in the Rye is one of your all time favourite novels, or you like your contemporary fiction with a darkly comic edge, you might really enjoy this book.  I would love to hear if others have read this, and what they think.