commafruit.co.uk. welcome.

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A wealth of information about, and insight into, modern France. The book is split into three sections, this arrangement being how the authors have chosen to delineate the aspects they see as forces influencing French culture, disposition etc.

The first section, Spirit, gives a brief scan of French history, and attempts to get a handle on the French mindset with regards to topics like globalisation, their attachment to rural traditions despite the overwhelming majority of the population living in the cities, and the value of rhetorical and conversational skill.
n this section, a whole chapter each is given over to World War II (1939-1945) and the Algerian War (1954-1962), such is the influence these events still hold over the country.

Structure, the second section, is possibly the most informative, but it’s also the most disappointing in style. Page after page of dates, statistics and percentages betray the book’s origin as a report for the ICWA, but this still doesn’t disguise how much information is presented: discussions of political structure (and the reasons and history behind it); distribution of power at the national, regional and municipal levels; the education system(s); law; associations and language are all present.

Finally, Change addresses the current political situation, issues surrounding immigration and France’s changing racial make-up, and the country’s relationship with America and it’s place in the EU.

Throughout, the authors cannot help name-dropping friends and acquaintances they’ve encountered, to the point that it becomes tiresome to read another anecdote about the hiking club or some politically ambitious friend, even though one is assured of being well informed about whatever topic is being discussed. No doubt is was felt this would provide a feeling of sincerity for the reader, but with this kind of overuse it ends up feeling forced.
The other complaint I had about the style was the frequency of descriptions provided in the third person, again, presumably, done with the aim of engendering trust, but actually coming across as badly realised Gonzo journalism. Take for example this first paragraph of the final chapter:

Sitting at his desk one Wednesday afternoon writing an Institute report one Wednesday afternoon, Jean-Benoit was startled by the sound of sirens howling in the streets - not fire-engine sirens, but air-raid sirens, distant and melancholy. He recognised the sound from war movies, but it was the first time he’d heard the wail for real. His thoughts spiralled. The Kosovo war was drawing to an end, but anything could have happened. Was there a nuclear attack? His thoughts raced to Julie, who was travelling in the Middle East. He thought about going down the street to the subway for shelter.

Of seven sentences, four begin He or His, yet the authors are not sufficiently well drawn as characters to justify this attention or to create empathy. Further, both authors are referenced here in the third person - who is supposed to be the voice here? If the the answer is “both” or “neither”, this breaks the facade of connection with the reader this style was aiming for in the first place.

Major stylistic gripes aside, there can be no denying the depth and breadth of information presented in such a compact book: in just under 350 pages, Nadeau and Barlow have managed to convey an insightful analysis of France, and more importantly, it the French. Bravo!

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It may be that I’m just a good fit for it, or maybe it just came at the right time, because despite a somewhat lukewarm critical reception¹, I loved Iain Banks’ latest effort.

The Steep Approach to Garbadale tells the story of Alban, a renegade member of the successful Wopuld family, who is asked to return to his family in order to persuade them not to sell out the business to a huge American firm. But it’s not the only thing Alban has to think about: returning to his family means he must confront his feelings for his cousin Sophie, a lust he’s harboured for years, and one which has impaired more obvious relationship opportunities. There is also the looming issue of his mother’s suicide, little discussed since his childhood.

All this is nicely interspersed with contributions from Alban’s new friends (who are far more vulgar than him, and even more so than his family), flashbacks from the gap year he spent travelling, and other international trips he’s been on. Laugh-out-loud funny in places and touching in others, the novel is certainly a page-turner, even if the “twist” at the end is a long way from a revelation.

My only complaint is that Banks can’t help throw in his own² attacks against Bush, the Iraq war and feeding them through his characters like they were marionettes. Even though I agree with his politics, I’d prefer that he kept such sensitive subjects out of a book that really, doesn’t need them. The fact that having an American firm try to take over a smaller, British concern is a major plot point does not mean it needs to be politicised, even if it looks like it’s begging to be.

¹ I mean proper critics. See the Guardian review for reference.
² highly unsubtle, especially noticeable when coming from one with such a powerful command of the language

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Not sure why, but this book has been on my pile of books to read for a long time. Possibly this was a mistake, because this is a truly superb novel.

Michael Owen is tasked with researching and documenting the influential Winshaw family, who have, for the last half-century or so, been furthering themselves at the expense of all others in the most unethical and selfish of ways. The work Owen is charged with researching is interwoven with events from his own more mundane life, and we begin to realise just how wide reaching the Winshaw’s influence is.

Unflinchingly socialist and politically charged on one page, flippant and funny the next, Coe relies somewhat on the reader being on his side before they begin. A people-centric view of the problems Thatcher caused us.

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Lightweight, too heavy on name-dropping and almost unreadable in places due to the words being obscured by the man’s ego, this is remains an extremely entertaining auto-biography. Enough amusing anecdotes are included to keep the reader from becoming bored, and the bits of inside info about the radio industry (largely included under the pretext that they’re required for clarity) are genuinely interesting.

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This is, to my knowledge, Banks’ first science fiction novel which takes him away from his “Culture” universe. This was alarming at first, since we associate his SF with the Culture, but here there is enough background material packed into one book to create an equally vibrate world (or, rather, galaxy).

Here we find the hero (”Fassin Taak”) is summoned to a distant world to find a long lost piece of information which is thought will help his people in an imminant war. Most of the story deals with this; but perhaps feeling that he needs to match the depth he provides in the culture novels, Banks provides a wealth of context for his characters. Taak’s experiences in childhood are used to introduce relevant characters, and every new race is described with such detail (down to the political and social levels) that the reader feels comfortable in understanding them.

As usual, it’s hard not to be drawn in to the authors imagination - this is an epic story, stretching from the tiniest nuaces of people interaction to galaxy-wide war - and it just makes you wonder what was left out. If this much detail has been crammed into a single volume, there must be so much more Banks could have included, and you’re left wanting even more.

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Isaac Asimov collects some of his favourite stories from before the ‘Golden Age’, which apparently began in 1938 when John Campbell became editor of Astounding Science Fiction.
While I’m always interested in science fiction, and especially anything Isaac Asimov has to say about it, I found it difficult to enjoy any of the stories presented here. They are littered with scientific inaccuracies, the writing style grates, and often the content is just uninspired. In his own notes which accompany each example, Asimov readily acknowledges all this, yet says that (for whatever reason) they hold sentimental value to him and therefore merit inclusion. In this way it is a very self-indulgant collection.

Originally published as one huge book, it has since been republished as four smaller volumes. Having read the first I can’t say I’m inspired to read the other three.

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The everyman lays down some funny (some of which very funny) anecdotes from his past. Some of the material seemed familiar from his stand-up performances - it’s all in that vein anyway.
Possibly a little short, if there’s a more substantial anthology it might be a better choice.

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Fitting only too perfectly, I read this semi-autobiographical tale while travelling freeing around Europe, albeit by train, and found that the open-mindedness and happy-go-lucky nature of the story had a great influence on me.

The writing style, liquid, almost stream-of-consciousness, and packed with details of people, places, vehicles, journies, works perfectly with the content, and let’s the reader in on the psyche and excitement of travelling across America in this era.
Dean Moriarty, on whom most of the action focuses, is unusual in that although he is dishonest, cheats the author and their friends at every opportunity, and is just a general liability, he is incredibly likable, and in this way maintains the authors loyalty.
The book is also a tantalising look at a time when everything was simpler. People were less expectant, most trusting, less materialistic. The distinction between this and the modern world, in particular modern America, is infuriating.

The same thought came to me after reading One Hundred Years of Solitude, but it’s as relevant here. At school, we read Wuthering Heights, which for this generation and at that age (15-16 years), is an extremely boring, unpleasant novel. Surely if we’d studied one of the two books mentioned above they would ahve inspired less hatred for English literature than Emily Bronte did for so many.

Edit: So apparently Penguin are releasing a new, uncut version to celebrate 50 years, called On The Road: The Original Scroll.

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The back of my copy contains a quote from the New York Times: “you emerge from this marvelous novel as if from a dream”, which for me sums the book up perfectly. The recurring themes, with characters carrying family traits through generations mean the dozens of characters you encounter are not overwhelming.

I know nothing of the history of Columbia, details of which are reportedly encoded within the story,but the book is enjoyable in it’s own right nonetheless.

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This isn’t the book I intended to buy. I went into Waterstone’s to buy a french dictionary, decided I wasn’t ready for one, started browsing the travel writing section, and ended up buying this.

Gorman is evidently prone to ‘adventures’ - before this one he’d been off on a project to find everyone in the world with the same name as him - as he’s distracted from writing a novel by “Googlewhacking”, a fad that swept the Internet a few years ago, helped not a little by this book. A Googlewhack is a two word search on Google which returns only a single web page. Dave Gorman made it his mission to find 10 of these “in a row”, by which he means the next Googlewhack is found by the owner of the web page which produced the last one. Since he is also required to meet these people, Gorman travels all around the globe in his mission, and it’s this which forms most of the interest in the book. The people Dave meets are interesting since they’re all so diverse, yet all (with one exception) have a willingness to find more Googlewhacks for him.

All tied together nicely by the authors witty commentary (I laughed out loud in several places), this is a charming tale of what can happen when you have someone with an unstoppable curiosity, tons of energy, and nothing to stop them…

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Four narrators, all with linked lives, all trying, and largely failing, to achieve something, or even to make sense of the world around them. Coupland manages to tackle tough issues - religion and it’s relevance in the modern world, especially how it relates to the horrors described in the first part of the book; deception; exploitation; faith; and how all these things manage to mingle with more personal issues, such as being part of a family unit or forming relationships. This makes everything seem petty, as if you could view these situations with utter objectivity.

Comparisons with Generation X are inevitable, but I think this book is more affecting, even though is cannot match the atmosphere of the authors debut.

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The first thing to strike me about this novel is that it is so thin, at just over 100 pages, I read it in an afternoon. The story is touching, though the characters are not as life-like as I had been led to believe. Very little happens in the plot, and though some of the descriptions are (deliberately) ambiguous, there is similarly little intrigue. Nonetheless, I found the story engaging due to it’s setting - this is a time of simplicity and innocence which is long lost, especially in it’s American setting. Given that the text was first published in 1958, and Capote’s next work was the 1965 In Cold Blood, which deals with murders committed in 1959, this novel seems to represent the end of the authors innocence, and also mark the end of this gentler time in the world.

The value of the Penguin edition is enhanced somewhat by the inclusion of three short stories (House of Flowers, A Diamond Guitar, and A Christmas Memory), all of which have their merits, and are perhaps even greater examples of literature than the main event, it being little more than a short story itself.

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Although published as three distinct volumes, The Baroque Cycle should really be considered one epic (2500+ page) novel, which has then been split (just to keep you awake) into eight “books”. It is for this reason I am commenting on the series as a whole, rather than attempting to look separately at the three volumes, Quicksilver, The Confusion, and The System Of The World.

The Baroque Cycle is intelligent, heavy going, and compelling. It is based on the history of the period between about 1660-1714, and features (household name) real people from that era as characters. Very often it’s laugh-out-loud funny, and is consistently engaging - the characters (that is to say, the entirely fictional ones), are believable, the plots and situations are atmospheric, but it’s also extremely thought provoking and educational. Anyone with any interest in the history of science, English etymology or politics should seriously consider these books for their educational purpose, let alone the tale contained.
Stephenson brings us great gifts with this release - he is surely among the best writers in the world today.

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I was stunned by this novel. Not sure I’m qualified to comment on it… this book has jumped from me being only vaguely aware of it to being one of my all-time favourites, it’s incredible.

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I picked up this paperback for (I think) 50p, in a pile in a supermarket. I only bought it because the author’s name seemed so familiar - it turns out to be the actress who played Mrs. Doyle in Father Ted^w. I very nearly stopped reading after the first chapter or so (the writing style is really quite jarring), but decided to persevere. There’s nothing particularly wrong with this book, it’s just underwhelming. The story is engaging enough, if somewhat lacking in action, and the characters are well fleshed out (the narrator and protagonist in particular is well realised), but nothing here piques ones emotions or curiosity even slightly.

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A triumph of imagination and imagery - Niven’s depiction of the vast scale of the locations encountered in the story is humbling, the perfect background setting for a far-future space adventure!
I was less thrilled with the human (maybe that’s not an appropriate word, only two of the four lead characters are human - let’s say corporeal) aspects of the story… if once they seemed fantastical, to me they just felt secondary to the yarn itself and to the graphical descriptions.

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