"The Vesuvius Club" by Mark Gatiss

Stuff and Nonsense by Amy Cockram is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

People who know me will realise that I tend to be quite rant-y and opinionated about writers, actors, plays etc that I like or dislike. And those same people will find it odd that I read a book by Mark Gatiss. I don't really get "The League of Gentlemen," and he was part of a couple of the weaker Doctor Whos of the reincarnated series ("The Idiot's Lantern" as writer, and "The Lazarus Experiment" as actor). So I came to this book as someone who is not a Mark Gatiss fan.

However, though I am often vocal and opinionated, I do think that I admit when I am wrong. When my husband disagrees with me on this, I cite the example that I didn't much rate the choice of Daniel Craig as Bond - but admitted I was wrong when I saw him in "Casino Royale." In the same vein, I am willing to admit that I did enjoy the effectively creepy and gothic ghost story series on the BBC written by Mark Gatiss ("Crooked House"). I was drawn to "The Vesuvius Club" because it sounded interesting and because Stephen Fry, who is never wrong, apparently liked it (book jacket quote, "the most delicious, depraved, inventive, macabre and hilarious literary debut I can think of").

So have I been wrong to be critical of Mark Gatiss, or - God forbid, as this would undermine my whole vision of life, the universe and everything - is Stephen Fry wrong?

Well, I didn't hate it. But I didn't love it either.

Gatiss' hero is Lucifer Box, an Edwardian painter and secret-agent, who lives in 9 Downing Street. He is Bond to the M of Joshua Reynolds (a real life figure, playfully fictionalised). There are some elements to enjoy in the novel. Gatiss has fun with naming characters (Bella Pok, Midsomer Knight), and his joyfully anachronistic use of modern spy cliches seems sometimes to owe more to "Get Smart" than it does James Bond. But, ultimately, it was all somewhat unsatisfying. I'm not convinced that it is as good as it thinks it is, or as good as Stephen Fry thinks it is.

I have just realised that this might be the first slightly negative review I have written. I feel a little dirty, and slightly uncomfortable - I'm worried that Mark Gatiss might find it and feel a little hurt, and I'd hate to hurt anyone's feelings. Maybe I'm not cut out to be a critic - or maybe I'll be the world's nicest critic (that's my gimmick).

But the Stephen Fry book jacket quote has made me start thinking of great, funny literary debuts....Jasper Fforde's "The Eyre Affair," of course Douglas Adams'"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," Donna Tartt's "The Secret History" (maybe not that funny, but kind of fits the macabre billing)....

Any other suggestions that anyone wants to run with in the comments section...?

The Booker Shortlist 2010

Stuff and Nonsense by Amy Cockram is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

I'm very happy, as I have just found out that Howard Jacobson's "The Finkler Question" is shortlisted for this year's Man Booker Prize.

I discovered Howard Jacobson quite a few years ago ("Peeping Tom," set in Cornwall, was my first), and he has been one of my favourite authors ever since. He has been longlisted twice, but I think that this is his first time on the shortlist. The Waterstone's web page announcing the shortlist comments that "The Finkler Question" has been hailed as a "real return to form by the critics." I wasn't aware that any of his recent books had been off form.

I do have a slightly fractious relationship with the Booker Prize. It has always seemed curious to me that the Booker has faced criticism for ignoring female writers, and then seemed to enshrine this criticism by renaming itself the Man Booker. I have to admit to naively and stupidly not realising at first that this renaming was due to corporate sponsorship. Now that I know that the Man prefix is due to sponsorship, I can't help feeling that the company name is a little too painfully apt given the criticism of male bias. Even though the last winner was a woman - Hilary Mantel for "Wolf Hall" - the accusation of a preference for male writers seems hard to shake.

Which leads me on to the issue that I have with the Orange Prize for Fiction. Just as the Man prefix seems to hint again at a preference for male writers, I have an issue with a prize that is just for female writers. My response - maybe more instinctive that intellectual - is to feel that a prize just for women seems to support the idea that a female writer would not win a prize when judged against male writers. It feels a little like "Here, have this to keep you happy since you aren't likely to win the MAN Booker."

I didn't intend this to turn into a rant about prizes for fiction - it started off purely as a blog to say how happy I am that Howard has got in there. I have decided, by the way, from now on I'm going to drop the Man as protest and as laziness. Contrary to the impression that this blog might have given, I find the Booker fascinating, and I'm in favour of anything that helps support the book industry. I even thought that if I ended up as an academic, I would have liked to try and run a course on the Booker Prize - it would have been interesting to pick a year and form our own jury (particularly for the year when there was a draw between Michael Ondaatje's "The English Patient" and Barry Unsworth's "Sacred Hunger").

I believe the announcement of the winner will be on 12th October, and I will be interested to find out who wins. I'm sure the 2010 Booker will feature in my blog again over the next few weeks - I might even try to read them all in time to make my own decision (though this is our busiest time at work, so that probably won't happen).

I am currently reading....and have been for quite a long time

Stuff and Nonsense by Amy Cockram is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

I don't know if anyone who checks my blog reads the gadget that lists the books I am reading. Come to that, I'm actually not sure if anyone checks my blog. Anyway, I have to admit to the fact that a couple of books listed are ones that I have been currently reading for quite a long time.

I feel a bit ashamed to admit this - especially since one of my long-term reading commitments was a present from a friend ("The Library of Shadows"). It feels a bit ungrateful somehow to have not yet finished it. I was reading it before we went to New York (blimey, that was April). I didn't take it to New York because I wanted to read something set in New York, and I never really returned to it. I was actually fairly near the end and was enjoying it (contrary to appearances), but it is now so long ago that I feel maybe I should re-start it. Can I still technically be said to be currently reading it, if this was nearly 5 months ago?

Another book I started but have not read much of is "The End of Mr Y." This is because I have 2 types of books - intelligent books, and breakfast books. The intelligent books - like "The End of Mr Y" - I get through a lot more slowly. This is because you need to devote all your attention to them, and I rarely seem to get time to do this.

In comparison, a breakfast book is - unsurprisingly - a book I can read while having breakfast. I like reading in the morning when having breakfast, but I can't cope with anything too intellectually stretching too early in the day. So a breakfast book is fun and undemanding - something I can also read with a little less attention when something else is on in the background (like when Mark is watching a football match in which they seem to be faffing around a lot and not actually kicking the ball into the net thing at the end of the field much).

My breakfast books fly past on the blog, but the intelligent books stay there longer because I read them less frequently and they take more time to absorb.

So that is the key to the books I am currently reading: if a book is on there for a long time, then it is more intelligent and takes time to digest. If it is only on there fleetingly, then it probably took less time to digest than my breakfast.

A.J. Jacobs: Man with a mission

Stuff and Nonsense by Amy Cockram is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

If you regularly browse the shelves at any major book store, you can often spot new trends and emerging sub-genres. Some are completely inexplicable to me; I find it hard to understand the appeal of the autobiographies of misery typified by Dave Pelzer. Another more pleasurable sub-genre is the area of quirky male memoir. Its best known exponents are probably Danny Wallace and Dave Gorman: they are the men who undertake strange, wacky social experiments, and then write about them. They are the stars of their own books, and there is normally a co-starring role for a girlfriend with a varying level of tolerance. A.J. Jacobs belongs to this genre (although for girlfriend, read wife).

I discovered A.J. Jacobs by chance in our local library. I spotted one of his books, "The Year of Living Biblically," and was intrigued by the title. This is his project: to spend a year living by the rules set out in the Bible; part of the year will be dedicated to the Old Testament, the remainder of the year to the New. As A.J. Jacobs comes from a Jewish family (although not strictly observant, he remembers their family home having, "that paradoxical classic of assimilation: a Star of David on top of our Christmas tree"), he is more familiar with Old Testament teachings when he begins his project.

I find this a bit difficult to write about for a couple of reasons. Firstly A.J. Jacobs admits to the habit of googling himself, and I feel a little bit awkward about writing this in case he should discover it. I enjoyed his books, and I'm not about to write anything horrible - just wanted to reassure him now, in case he has found this - but it does make me feel more than a little self-conscious. I also find this difficult to write about because I am not a religious person, but I have friends who are and who might read this. A.J. Jacobs himself starts the project as an agnostic, and I can associate with the viewpoint he expresses, "if there is a God, why would He allow war, disease and my fourth-grade teacher Ms Barker who forced us to have a sugar-free bake sale?" Although I have never met Ms Barker, I can understand the sentiment.

A couple of his more religious relatives are concerned by his project; he is naturally drawn to the bizarre, and they worry that he will focus more on the more eccentric dictates of the Bible. In the course of his book he calls out a shatnez tester (who will test his clothes to make sure that he is not wearing any items made from mixed fibres), he undertakes to blow a ritual horn (a shofar) at the start of every month, takes an egg from under a pigeon, and tries to avoid eating fruit from a tree that is less than 5 years old. He also tries to avoid sitting on a seat that has been occupied by a menstruating woman - a regulation that his wife objects to by sitting on every seat in the house before he returns from work (I mentally cheered this inventive protest).

However, he also finds that his quest to follow the Bible makes him a better person. He is more circumspect in his words, trying to eschew gossip; he tries not to covet, and he tries titheing to give money to charity. He assembles a corale of religious figures to whom he turns for advice and guidance: for every fundamentalist he meets, he meets several wise people who provide him with insights into life and morality. He visits Jerusalem, finds much to admire in the reticence of the Amish, goes to an unfinished creationist museum and attends a meeting at Jerry Falwell's church. At the end of his project he hasn't found religion, but he has found that, "whether or not there is a God, there is such a thing as sacredness."

I enjoyed this book so much, that I treated myself to a couple of his other books to read on a week off work - "The Know-It-All" (which was written first) and "My Experimental Life" (the most recent book of the three). In "The Know-It-All," he is disturbed to realise that his adolescent intellectual prowess has been squandered. He knows about pop culture and the peccadillos of the stars, and little about anything else - and so he begins a project to read the Encyclopaedia Britannica. His book follows the alphabetical structure of the source; taking the form of events from his life - such as his experiences of joining Mensa and entering "Who Wants to be a Millionnaire" - and musings on his reading.

I haven't quite finished it yet, but my favourite facts so far are:

The philosopher Rene Descartes had a thing for cross-eyed women.

The explorer Shackleton took the 11th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica to Antarctica. They had to use it for kindling.

In the 9th century the Pope Formosus was put on trial after his death for his policies - his body was exhumed and propped up for the course of the trial. He lost.

The Greek prostitute Phryne was tried for blasphemy, but was acquitted after flashing her breasts at the jury.

So far I have enjoyed "The Know-It-All" most of his books, but that could be because I am a geek - I even half fancy reading the Encyclopaedia Britannica myself. As his books are quite autobiographical though, don't do what I did and read them in the wrong order - it ruins any tension just a tad.....

Book review: "The Corfu Trilogy," by Gerald Durrell

Stuff and Nonsense by Amy Cockram is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

I really feel like I need a holiday, and it's all Gerald Durrell's fault. A couple of years ago I read "My Family and Other Animals," and I've been meaning to read the next two in the trilogy ever since. I finally got around to borrowing "Birds, Beasts and Relatives" and "Garden of the Gods" from the library.

"Birds, Beasts and Relatives," begins at a Durrell family gathering. "My Family and Other Animals" has already been published, and they are reminiscing about their time in Corfu. They come to the conclusion that Gerry had left out some of the funniest anecdotes - and they are horrified to find that he agrees with them, and was planning to write a further book. They all fear that the incidents of which they are most ashamed will be outed - and they are.

We therefore find ourselves once again immersed in the world of animal-obsessed Gerry, gun-mad Leslie, acne and puppy-fat prone Margo with a tendency towards hysterics and malapropisms, artistic Larry and their slightly absent-minded mother. To the established cast of local characters like the ubiquitous Spiro (in my head, always played by Brian Blessed) and fount of all knowledge, Theodore, Gerald Durrell adds an assortment of motley characters. Highlights are Margo's association with the marvellously named spiritualist Mrs Haddock, whospeaksratherlikethis...Whaaaha, and Mrs Durrell's unwanted, lecherous suitor, Captain Creech.

I think my childhood was happy enough, but I still find myself envious of his. I would return from a day at work and wish that I could have spent my day in the idyllic countryside of Corfu observing the wildlife. I am not sure that I would swap my childhood memories for his, but I would certainly swap a day at work for a day of exploring Corfu. I don't share his insect interests (I'm a bit put off to realise that Corfu has tarantulas and, yes, I watch "QI" so I am well aware that a spider is not actually an insect), but I would certainly envy him a day on the Bootle Bumtrinket - his temperamental boat, built by his brother - observing sea life with his dogs, Roger, Widdle and Puke.

As a caveat, however, there is an acquisitional element to his childhood exploits - taking birds eggs, removing baby animals from their mother - that I feel slightly uncomfortable with in this age of environmental ethics. I am aware though that I do him a disservice by judging his actions against today's standards. This discomfort with Gerry removing animals from their natural habitat is tempered by an awareness that I am judging a child by adult values, as well as my knowledge that he became a great and influential conservationist.

Gerald Durrell is a very natural writer - in all senses of the word - and, as you would expect, his descriptions of wildlife are particularly vivid. His observations of animal (and human) behaviour are rendered in beautiful, intricate detail. His Corfu is a paradise of abundance, fertile olive groves and seas rich with exotic life - and he is possibly their best tourist ambassador. As long as you aren't scared of insects.

On giving up

Stuff and Nonsense by Amy Cockram is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

It used to be that I would never give up on a book that I have started. Once I began to read something I felt duty bound to finish it, even if I wasn't enjoying it.

That isn't the case so much any more. Now that I am a bit older and have so many books and so little time, I have decided that I won't force my way through a book if I am not enjoying it. It isn't worth it. I do sometimes make exceptions for something that is 'worthy;'a book that is considered to be a classic, or a book that is highly regarded and intelligent.

There are, however, remnants of my own pride and stubbornness which mean that giving up on a book is something that I don't do lightly. But, I confess, I am considering giving up on "The Strain."

I don't mean to imply that "The Strain" is a bad book. It is an interesting take on the idea of the vampire, which is intelligently written by Guillermo Del Toro and Hulk Hogan (sorry, Chuck Hogan). The opening of the novel is particularly tense, and they effectively create an atmosphere of suspense and foreboding. But I am considering giving up on it because it is simply too damn scary for a wimp like me.

I'm not good at horror, and I am especially bad at body horror - and this is quite body horror-y. I am a hypochondriac who is scared by her body's own potential for betrayal: for its potential to act against the dictates of my will, from the big stuff like cancer or heart attack, to the small stuff like not being able to resist the need to fart when in a public place. As someone who imagined she had bubonic plague after learning about it at school and who still can't watch the whole of the "Ice" episode of "The X-Files," "The Strain" is a bit too virus-y/parasite-y for my liking.

"The Strain" is the first book in a trilogy. Is it a good book? It probably is - if it was a bad book, I wouldn't be so freaked out by it. If a book in the horror genre scares you, then surely that makes it a success. Will I finish reading it? I'm not sure yet. Will I read the next two books? Probably not.

Book review: "Horns," by Joe Hill

Stuff and Nonsense by Amy Cockram is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.

"Ignatius Martin Perrish spent the night drunk and doing terrible things. He woke the next morning with a headache, put his hands to his temples, and felt something unfamiliar, a pair of knobby pointed protuberances. He was so ill - wet-eyed and weak - he didn't think anything of it at first, was too hungover for thinking or worry.
But when he was swaying above the toilet, he glanced at himself in the mirror over the sink and saw he had grown horns while he slept. He lurched in surprise, and for the second time in twelve hours he pissed on his feet."

Joe Hill's book, "Horns," invokes sympathy for the devil. In his recent past Ig Perrish was a happy young man, with a beautiful girlfriend whom he met at a local church. He was due to go to London to start his dream job. Then his girlfriend dies tragically and violently the night before he is due to go away, and Ig is the main suspect. The case against him collapses, but so has his happiness, and Ig is left with a joyless and directionless life.

Then Ig wakes with the titular horns and he discovers a new talent: people start to confess their deepest, darkest desires to him. The emphasis here is on the darkness; these are things that you don't even like to admit to yourself. He also finds that he can influence people to act upon these desires. Ig is disturbed to discover what his family, friends and acquaintances think of him and, even more significantly, he discovers what really happened on the night his girlfriend was killed. He then starts to direct his new talents towards revenge.

Joe Hill is Stephen King's son, and there are similarities in their writing. If you enjoy Stephen King, you will probably enjoy Joe Hill as well. They share a robust and direct writing style; their prose is functional rather than flowery. However, I have been about 100 pages into a Stephen King book before now - 100 very enjoyable pages - before realising that actually nothing much has happened. This is not Joe Hill's style; he is more a mastery of brevity and, as the opening extract demonstrates, he jumps straight into the story.

Joe Hill, like his father, is aware of the darkness within the heart of man. His characters are deeply flawed and often quite unsympathetic. In "Horns," as in "Heart-shaped Box" (his first novel), I found the female characters more likeable than the male. However, this comes with a huge caveat; his female characters, though more sympathetic, are often victims of abuse and/or their own self-hatred.

I'm becoming aware that I am not exactly selling this book, and I'm probably making it sound heavier than it is. Yes, there is a streak of morality in Joe Hill's writing, but there is also a pleasing ambiguity between good and bad, human and demon. He has a nice line in black humour that lurks in the dark shadows of his writing. Particularly in "Heart-shaped Box," which I probably enjoyed even more than "Horns," Joe Hill's imagery provides some startlingly vivid, creepy, details, and his characters are memorable and well-defined.

I also noticed on IMBD that a film of "Heart-shaped Box" is in development. If the film gets made - and I hope it does - I would be interested to see who is cast, and how Hollywood treats Joe Hill's novel.

I read "Heart-shaped Box" because I was intrigued to read a book by Stephen King's son. Now I read his books because they are by Joe Hill.

By the way, Alicia and anyone else who is scared of snakes. "Horns" is probably one you should avoid.