Thursday, 14 February 2008

2007_01_01_archive



Newsreal

Last night I watched Sky News' live report from Fatboy Slim's

beachside party for 20,000 paying guests. However, even without the

TV, from my armchair I could hear the music. It wasn't intrusive and I

didn't mind. Much worse are the regular booming firework displays from

the pier. Window panes wobble in their frames. For a few moments, it's

unclear what the hell is going on. Then there's silence save for a few

flapping seagulls. Tim Footman relates a similar experience in Bangkok

over the weekend. He hears news of the bombs.

I send a mass email, to say I'm OK, hope you are too. Half a dozen

bounce back. Out of office. Happy New Year. Back Tuesday. Maybe. A

firework goes off outside, and I jump, but just a little bit.

Someone's rigged up a sound system. Heavy bass. I look out. You'd

never know there was anything wrong. Just like the coup, and the

tsunami before that. The dogs bark, but the dogs always bark.

Death is elsewhere. The novelty of being so close to the horror and

glamour of a news event prompted a familiar question. How close is so

close?

We watch Saddam experiencing the injustice he inflicted upon so many

others, the same footage showed again and again as if in search of

something hidden, and it's not enough. We want to know how and what he

felt. The ghost of the fact is the story with which we're preoccupied.

The silence broken by dogs and seagulls, and the repetition of the

search, remains under-explored in fiction, and is always under threat.

Kafka turned towards it by turning away.

The fact that there is fear, grief and desolation in the world is

something he understands, but even this only in so far as these are

vague, general feelings, just grazing the surface. All other

feelings he denies; what we call by that name is for him mere

illusion, fairy-tale, reflection of our knowledge and our memory.

How could it be otherwise, he thinks, since after all our feelings

can never catch up with the actual events, let alone overtake them.

We experience the feelings only before and after the actual event,

which flits by at an elemental, incomprehensible speed; they are

dream-like fictions, restricted to ourselves alone. We live in the

stillness of midnight, and experience sunrise and sunset by turning

towards the east and the west.

Yet when an author wanders into this space, the critics hunt in packs.

Joseph O'Neill joins those rejecting Franz Bascombe's latest spectral

appearance in Richard Ford's The Lay of the Land. He says the final

volume is unconvincing compared to the two previous.

Those books ... are anchored by very real familial misfortunes (the

death of a child, the disintegration of a marriage, the troubles of

an anguished fifteen-year-old son) that Frank, anomie

notwithstanding, cannot help but humanly experience and

communicate. The Lay of the Land, it transpires, has no comparable

anchor - and this is where the trouble starts.

The trouble for O'Neill is that it doesn't ring true.

Thus it struck me, about a third of the way through, that Frank

Bascombe repeatedly says, does, and thinks stuff that nobody would,

not even Frank Bascombe. I ended up - like Kingsley Amis reading

Virginia Woolf - muttering to myself, No he didn't; no, that isn't

what he thought; no, that's just what she didnt say. [sic]

Well, yes, Kingsley Amis, Virginia Woolf! In my own apparently

stillborn review, I wanted to make this aspect of the novel the real

tragedy; not the deaths, break-ups and troubles - so very real that

O'Neill's forgotten they're fictional - but that, despite Frank's

extraordinary articulacy, his readers are in the same alienated

position as his ex-wife and children. Even as the news increasingly

resembles genre fiction, a literary novel is not the news.

at 5:42 PM 0 comments

February 2007 December 2006 Home

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My Shelfari Bookshelf

Shelfari: Book reviews on your book blog

email address

Please contact me, Stephen Mitchelmore, at steve dot mitchelmore at

gmail dot com

Literary and other links

* British Literary Blogs

* ReadySteadyBook blog

* Spurious

* Book Depository: Editor's Corner

* The Literary Saloon

* The Existence Machine

* The Reading Experience

* Scarecrow Comment

* Guardian Books Blog

* The Quarterly Conversation

* KCRW Bookworm

* BookForum

* wood s lot

* Mountain 7

* Todd Colby's Glee Farm

* Three per cent

* Tales from the Reading Room

* The Bibliophilic Blogger

* The Penguin Blog

* TLS: Peter Stothard

* Mary Beard

* Nomadics: Pierre Joris

* Lenin's Tomb

* Dispatches from Zembla

* Waggish

More literary blogs

* Jonathan Swift's Journal to Stella

* The Best of New Writing on the Web

* John Self's Asylum

* Anatomy of Melancholy

* The Truth About Lies

* Nigel Beale: Nota Bene

* Thomas McGonigle's ABC of Reading

* Vertigo: Collecting WG Sebald

* Un Arbre dans la Ville

* The Wooden Spoon

* The Joyful Knowing

* The Reader Onliine

* In Abstentia Out

* Jacob Russell's Barking Dog

* eNotes Book Blog

* Diderot's Diary

Book buying

* *Steve's Wishlist*

* The Book Depository - Cheap books and free delivery

* Booksprice - price comparisons

* Abebooks

Favoured author sites

* Maurice Blanchot

* Thomas Bernhard (German equivalent)

* Gabriel Josipovici

* Peter Handke (German equivalent)

* Princeton Dante Project

* Proust: Temps Perdu

* The Kafka Project

* Charlotte Mandell

* Noam Chomsky

* John Pilger

Blog Archive

* February 2008 (1)

* January 2008 (10)

* December 2007 (26)

* November 2007 (28)

* October 2007 (16)

* September 2007 (24)

* August 2007 (15)

* July 2007 (17)

* June 2007 (11)

* May 2007 (23)

* April 2007 (11)

* March 2007 (24)

* February 2007 (27)

* January 2007 (21)

* December 2006 (9)

* November 2006 (24)

* October 2006 (21)

* September 2006 (19)

* August 2006 (15)

* July 2006 (33)

* June 2006 (17)

* May 2006 (24)

* April 2006 (17)

* March 2006 (18)

* February 2006 (15)

* January 2006 (8)

* December 2005 (8)

* November 2005 (10)

* October 2005 (7)

* September 2005 (14)

* August 2005 (14)

* July 2005 (8)

* June 2005 (15)

* May 2005 (11)

* April 2005 (13)

* March 2005 (9)

* February 2005 (7)

* January 2005 (16)

* December 2004 (2)

* November 2004 (4)


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