Foundation by Isaac Asimov


Isaac Asimov

First published 1951.  I read a Bantam Spectra Books edition published 1991 on my older version Kindle, so not sure how many pages. Goodreads says 256 pgs.

Guardian 1000 novels: Science Fiction.

With trying American Gods, and loving Riddley Walker, I decided to stay with the Science Fiction Guardian titles for one more for now.  This was a good idea — once again the Guardian list led me to a book I probably never would have read but am now very glad I did.

Foundation is actually only one part of a complex series of books conceived by Asimov to describe the rise and fall of the Galactic Empire — a concept that he attributed to his reading of Gibbons’ famous work, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.  The action in Foundation occurs after two prequel novels — and there are four subsequent works that continue the story.  I have no idea how soon I will get back to any of them, and while I liked Foundation, I have so many other reads coming up and I’m not compelled to put those aside in favor of more Asimov right now.

Foundation begins with the trial of scientist Hari Seldon, who has discovered he can predict the future through a system of mathematical formulas.  He predicts the fall of the current Galactic Empire into a dark age lasting 30,000 years.  Naturally, the powers that be are not too excited about this.  Seldon is able to convince the government that if he is allowed to gather the most brilliant minds together to work on a compendium of human knowledge, the Encyclopedia Galactica, he will be able to reduce this period of dark ages substantially.   The government powers agree and send the “Encyclopedists” and their leader to a far-away planet at the end of the Galaxy, Terminus.   This group of exiles establishes the Foundation which is the heart of all the stories — a group dedicated to create the Encyclopedia, and more — to protect and enhance knowledge in the face of the impending dark ages.

The remainder of Foundation jumps us through a series of novelettes — Hari Seldon has passed away (kind of….) — but his Foundation lives on and morphs in the way all societies grow and change.  Space pirates, aristocrats and finally, traders, take their turns at guiding the Foundation in the face of the eventual crumbling of the Empire.

A funny side-note on this book; I shouldn’t have tried to read it on a Kindle.  Because the various episodes jumped forward in hunks of 50, 80 years at a time, I would have liked to flip back into the beginning pages to remind myself of various minor characters and events — but it wasn’t really that easy with the Kindle.

I liked Foundation, I liked the big ideas it presented about the gradual fall of empire when respect for science and truth fade.  I hope I do get time to return to this Galaxy soon.

Riddley Walker

RiddleyRiddley Walker

Russell Hoban

1980.  Summit Books.  220 pgs.

Guardian 1000 Novels: Science Fiction.

Other books I’ve read by Hoban:  none.    After the disaster of American Gods, I knew I had to get right back into the Guardian 1000 novels, and try to choose another science fiction or fantasy title — a category that I will admit I’m not that fond of.  What was the result?  A random selection of Riddley Walker and I could not have been happier with it.  In fact, reading Riddley restored my confidence in the Guardian reading challenge’s main premise:  to expose me to books that I would not have chosen to read.  This was certainly the case with Riddley, which I had never heard of.

This is a dystopian novel, set several thousand years after a nuclear war, or nuclear event of some kind–an event that through clues we conclude must have occurred sometime in the 1990’s.  The surviving society is a mix of hunter-gatherers, farmers (or “formers”), and folks engaged with simple-industry activities:  charcoal burners, dyers,  and work gangs who dig up pre-nuclear event iron and metal items to melt down.  Many folks live in simple settlements surrounded by fences.  Life is rough, crude and dangerous.  Being “dog et” is a common fate as dogs have reestablished their previous antagonistic or at least uneasy, relationship with people as wild scavengers or predators.  Some characters in the book, including its main character, have the gift of being “dog frendy” which sets them apart as special.  There is some sort of central government that seeks to control and communicate by sending out official — get this — puppet shows.  “Connection men” are allowed to interpret the shows for the common folks.  The message is a confused mix of spiritual, superstition and ignorance, as well as the garbled mix of the legend of an old Catholic saint, Eustace, (known as “Eusa” throughout the novel) and events of the nuclear war.

Riddley Walker, twelve years old and now considered a man in his world, is chosen to become the new “connection man” after the death of his father in an accident involving digging up old iron.  Riddley’s dad had been a connection man and while Riddley is ready to take up the challenge, he doesn’t have the knack of his father’s cryptic but telling interpretations of the traveling “Eusa” shows.  What Riddley does have is a thirst for knowledge, the ability to read and write, and the willingness to connect with others who can help him understand his violent and confused world.  Eventually Riddley becomes aware of a plot among several factions to obtain the ingredients and recipe for gunpowder — a path that Riddley wisely concludes to reject realizing that it only leads to the same deadly path that brings his world full circle to the nuclear option:

“The onlyes power is no power.”

One of the amazing things about this book is Hoban’s use of his own made-up dialect.  It’s supposed to depict an evolution of English 2,000 years into the future — a language now used by a simple, dark-age like society — but still with echoes of a former technologically complex world.  So Riddley will refer to “programming” something if he means that it came to his mind, or it was expected.  “Blipful”, like “blips” on a screen means something exciting.  My edition lacked a full glossary, but I found this website really helpful in deciphering all of this and trying to understand some of the references Hoban makes:  Riddley Walker Annotations.   Some editions of the book (like this one in the picture from Goodreads) actually have a glossary.  It’s not that the language is too difficult, you get used to it, but passages such as this — from a critical point in the novel when Riddley and a government “hevvy,” Goodparley, have a difference of opinion about the use of “yellerboy” (sulfur) do take some deciphering:

“Goodparley said, ‘Watch how he does it Riddley,’

I said, ‘I don’t want to know.’

He said, ‘Eusas sake be you simpl or what?  The way thingsre going it looks like every 1 in Inlands after the yellerboy and the knowing of what to do with it.  Somewl have 1 and somewl have the other and somewl have the boath.  And them what dont have nothing theywl be out of it.'”

Goodparley’s insistence on using the sulfur leads to an explosive climax for the novel.  I was left haunted by Riddley Walker and I wanted to know more about what happened to him, and his world.  Hoban’s message, that the only power is no power is as relevant now in 2016 as it was in 1980.  It is also as ignored.


American Gods

amgodsAmerican Gods

Neil Gaiman

2011.  I attempted to read:  the author’s “preferred text” or Tenth Anniversary Edition, comprising 541 pages — complete with postscripts, acknowledgements, and appendix.

Guardian 1,000 Novels: Science Fiction.

Okay, I made it to page 285.

I will freely admit I have no idea of what this book was about or what Gaiman was trying to tell us.  Can I change the focus of this blog to be Guardian 1,000 novels I attempt to read?  If I give them an honest try?

Because I will state that I certainly tried with this book.  I slogged through it.  I thought about it when I wasn’t trying to read it.  It haunted me a bit when I dropped asleep after plodding through a couple of pages at bed time.

What I got out of it was this:  the people who came to America — or were forced to come to America — brought their gods with them.  Or perhaps, the gods followed the people.  So, Odin (Mr. Wednesday, get it?), Thunderbird, the Easter bunny, Anansi, and all their ilk are still with us and they are sad and unhappy that they are no longer worshiped as is their due.  A human being, Shadow, who just got out of prison is hired by Wednesday to be a kind of body guard and bouncer.  Shadow has his own troubles seeing that his beloved wife, Laura, died just as he was released from prison.  Unfortunately, Laura keeps coming back from the dead to communicate with and try to help Shadow.  For there is a war of some kind brewing between the gods, or the forces of whatever.  And somehow this is about America…..

And that’s it for me.  I found this book unpleasant, unsettling and worse of all — boring.  I also know by now that a spot on the Guardian list is no assurance that I will enjoy it.  But life is too short, and the Guardian list too long for me to stay stuck on one book — no matter the accolades it has received.  Did anyone else out there love this one?  What did it say to you?


Lots of reading; not much blogging….2014/2015 update

Hey, dear readers!  Yes, I just thought I would step away for a few minutes and then, wow!  It has turned into a four month hiatus.

But Livritome was never far from my thoughts.  I love my blog home and I’m now dashing around, opening the windows and brushing off the cobwebs.

I’ll admit that I’ve been struggling through a dry spell in my Guardian list reading.  I was doing well, spending the last part of October and early November finishing up the E.M Forster titles with A Passage to Indiapassagetoindia.  I enjoyed it, but didn’t find it as accessible as a some of his others, especially, Howards End.  I didn’t like many of the characters, and the brutality of the racism and hatred was so oppressive that I couldn’t work out a message I could walk away with.  The point seemed to be the complete random tragedy of stupid people who are careless with others’ lives.  I was lost by the spiritual aspects of the book as well.  So, not really a book for me, though I thought about it for quite a while afterwards.

I immediately jumped into another Guardian title, Riddle of the Sands.  I chose this one randomly from the list and was excited by the possibility of another book I would love that I didn’t know about before following the Guardian list.

mysteryUnfortunately, this didn’t work out.  I’ve been struggling with this book for weeks and have repeatedly crept away to read other, more interesting things….and I think I am about to hoist the white flag and declare surrender and not finish this book.

I know this is supposed to be the first spy novel, and I know this book inspired a young Winston Churchill to do everything he could to build up the English navy, and I’ve even read up on the author, Erskine Childers, who was a pretty fascinating and complex guy.  But every time I open this novel I feel like I am as fogged in as the two main characters out there, snooping-around in their yacht on the German coast.

Sad.  My first DNF for a Guardian title.

So, what else have I been reading?  Tons.

redqueenI lapped up Phillipa Gregory’s the Red Queen.  Phillipa’s always got some sort of trilogy or series or something going on with English royalty — goodness this lady is inexhaustible.  The Red Queen was about Margaret Beaufort, a true nut-case if this book is at all factual and the mother of the Tudor dynasty.  Guilty pleasure stuff — break out the chocolates.


I’ve also been feeding my love of medical history with two books, one a relative light weight and the other a superb book —

InfluenzaInfluenza 1918 was a quick read that could have used a better editor — had some repetitions throughout.  Because the 1918 epidemic is a personal obsession, I know that this book was written to accompany the PBS documentary on the same subject.  So, some illusions to individuals that seem strange in a stand alone book work when you know they were highlighted as “personal interest” stories in the documentary.  But if you hadn’t seen the documentary I don’t know how this would work for you.

GhostRegarding another epidemic, this one a cholera outbreak that decimated a London neighborhood in the mid-1800’s was Steven Johnson’s Ghost Map.  This is simply one of the finest books I’ve read in some time.  It’s about a brilliant doctor, John Snow, who makes a connection between cholera and contaminated water — well before germ theory.  Snow was a fantastic, original thinker and maybe the first person who used data and visualization to convince policy makers that action was needed.  His famous “ghost map” (I’ve actually seen a copy at the Walters Gallery in Baltimore Md!!!!) was a depiction of the deaths at each address and their relationship to a local pump.  But this book is about much more — it focuses on cities and what makes them livable or not.  It is also about social networks and what makes one person drink from a pump here (or live here, or have these friends but not others….) or not.  Fascinating stuff.

DissolutionI’ve discovered two mystery writers I’ve enjoyed — one is C. J. Sansom, who writes about Tudor England and whose protagonist is a hunchbacked lawyer who works for Thomas Cromwell.  The first one is about the dissolution of the abbeys and religious houses during Henry VIII’s reign and is called, appropriately, Dissolution.  A bit lengthy but good enough for me to want to check out the next title in the series.

WoodsA good friend turned me onto Tana French and her police procedurals set in present day Dublin.   The first one, In the Woods centers around the killing of a young girl in the same vicinity where two young children disappeared about 15 years earlier.  The investigative team that sets out to solve the murder have as many secrets and mysteries themselves as the murder they are trying to solve.  Very well written, with compelling characters and some dark twists.  Yes, I’ll be back for more.

Ok, that’s it for now.  Thanks for sticking with Livritome!

Mon ami, Poirot: The Mysterious Affair at Styles

StylesThe Mysterious Affair at Styles

Agatha Christie

Originally published, 1920.  I read a Bantam Books paperback, printed around 1976 (cost $1.75 at that time!).  182 pgs.

Guardian 1,000 novels.  Crime Titles.

Other books I’ve read by Christie:  And Then There Were None, The Murder of Roger Ackroyd.

It’s hard to imagine a world without Hercule Poirot, especially now that I feel I know him a little better.  His rationality, little gray cells, and famous “method” all provide a feeling of safety in the face of the most convoluted, red-herring-ed murder tale.

But Poirot had to be born sometime, and it was in this short novel that Christie introduced him to the world.

It was also Christie’s first published novel.  She wrote it during WWI, while volunteering in a hospital pharmacy.  The novel was supposedly written as the result of a bet to see if she could compose a mystery where the reader would be unable to spot the murderer.  It took Christie five years to find a publisher, and proved to be one of her greatest triumphs; it has never been out of print since 1920.

The novel is set in a great country house, Styles Court, inhabited by the wealthy Cavendish family, their guests and servants.  The domineering, widowed matriarch, Emily, has recently married a much younger man who is beneath her social class.  The misalliance has created a rift in the Cavendish family, many of whom fear the loss of their inheritances.  Then, Emily is poisoned with strychnine — either in her coffee, her evening cocoa, or perhaps in her bedtime tonic.  It’s all incredibly complicated, with dozens of clues, everyone a possible suspect, several medical men with conflicting ideas, lawyers and Scotland Yard on board.

Poirot to the rescue.  Evidently Emily had been responsible for Poirot’s presence in the village:

“…it is by the charity of that good Mrs. Inglethorp that I am here…she had kindly extended hospitality to seven of my countrypeople who, alas, are refugees from their native land.  We Belgians will always remember her gratitude.”

But Poirot is no mere refugee — he is “one of the most celebrated members of the Belgian police” — readily identified by young Mr. Hastings, who is recovering from war wounds at Styles Court.  Out of loyalty and gratitude to Emily, Poirot sets out to find her killer.  In his turn, Hastings becomes a kind of factotum and companion to Poirot, and is basically our stand in.  Whenever the mystery becomes incredibly complex and confusing, Hastings voices the readers’ frustration to Poirot:

“I was hardly as clear as I could wish.  I repeated myself several times, and occasionally had to go back to some detail that I had forgotten.  Poirot smiled kindly on me.

“The mind is confused? Is it not so?  Take time, mon ami.  You are agitated, you are excited–it is but natural.  Presently, when we are calmer, we will arrange the facts, neatly, each in his proper place…..”

I have to confess that at times I appreciated, rather than enjoyed, The Mysterious Affair at Styles.  I found many of the characters thinly drawn, almost chess pieces moved around on a huge board by a master hand.  Or sometimes I felt like I was inside a puzzle square — the kind you try to move tiles around in a particular order, but are thwarted because you can only move them in particular directions.  If Miss Cavendish was in the library with the cocoa cup at 9:30 then she couldn’t have been the person to burn the incriminating letter in the billiard room at that time, and so forth.

But the characters of Poirot and Hastings are endearing and real.  Poirot is the meticulous detector of truth and lies and Hastings is us, stumbling behind and trying to understand what is going on.  I wonder if Christie came up with these characters and formula in response to the Great War.  Did she feel a need to bring order and meaning to the destruction of a genteel, ordered way of life enjoyed by the English upper class before WWI?  For Poirot soothes the confused, horrified Hastings who represents that class and is reeling from a horrific crime — not necessarily the death of Emily Cavendish-Inglethrop — but a much larger horror.

And no, I wasn’t able to spot the murderer.  Of course we have to leave that to Poirot.


Christie’s Best: The Murder of Roger Ackroyd

RogerThe Murder of Roger Ackroyd

Agatha Christie

Originally published in 1926.  I read a Pocket Books Mystery edition printed around 1986.  255 pgs including list of characters.

Guardian 1,000 Novels:  Crime Titles

Other books I’ve read by Christie:  And Then There Were None, one of the creepiest books I’ve ever read.

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd was named the “best crime novel ever written” in 2013 by the members of the Crime Writers Association — a group of professional crime authors.

Christie published the story in 1926.  It features one of her most famous characters, Belgian detective Hercule Poirot.  Christie had introduced Poirot only six years earlier, in another Guardian 1,000 title:  The Mysterious Affair at Styles.

The story seems almost formulaic:  the picturesque English village stocked with  characters we all know by now:  the village doctor, the wealthy land owner, butlers, maids, the playboy and the ingenue.  A wealthy widow, Mrs. Ferrars, is tormented by rumors that she poisoned her husband.  She commits suicide, but not before sending an important letter to her fiance, Roger Ackroyd.  Ackroyd calls his friend, village doctor, James Sheppard, and asks him to come over to Ackroyd’s estate near the village to discuss the matter.  Once Sheppard arrives, Ackroyd admits that Mrs. Ferrars was being blackmailed by someone, but doesn’t say who.   Sheppard returns to his own home, uneasy at his friend’s revelation, and discusses the situation with his gossipy spinster sister, Caroline.  The phone rings and Sheppard answers it, then dashes away — telling his sister that Ackroyd’s butler had just discovered him murdered.

Strangely, when Sheppard get to the house, the butler says he had not telephoned.  Sheppard and the butler run to Ackroyd’s study and have to bash the locked door to get in.  Indeed, inside is Ackroyd, stabbed to death with a curio-handled, but razor sharp dagger.  A window is open and foot prints are outside in the dirt.  A chair has been pulled forward in a strange way.

Detail after detail is revealed in this strange tale, including the descriptions and motivations of all of Ackroyd’s family and guests — many of whom have a reason for killing him.  Most suspect is Ackroyd’s heir, young, broke, and feckless Ralph Paton, who looks even guiltier when he goes into hiding.  It is Paton’s footprints that are found outside the window.

The case seems clear-cut.  But this is a murder mystery so you know the most obvious suspect can’t have done it.  Compounding this fact is a whole catalog of mysterious clues:  a discarded wedding ring with the initial “R”, a strange man spotted near the estate gates the night of the murder, a parlor maid who seems to have ideas above her station, the mysterious call to Dr. Sheppard and the convoluted stories concerning all the people who would have benefited by Roger Ackroyd’s death.

Luckily, Hercule Poirot has happened to retire to the village, and his reputation as a master detective in the Belgian police force prompts Ackroyd’s niece to enlist his help.  This ruffles the bumbling English police on the case, but they relax somewhat when Poirot reveals he wants none of the credit for solving the case.  With this framework established, Poirot begins to investigate, assisted by Dr. Sheppard, who begins writing a diary of all developments in the case.  In addition to getting to the bottom of his friend’s murder, Sheppard has another motivation for helping Poirot with the case:

“I felt the pressure of his hand on my arm, and he added in a low tone:  ‘Do you really wish to aid me?  To take part in this investigation?’

“Yes indeed,” I said eagerly.  ‘There’s nothing I should like better.  You don’t know what a dull old fogey’s life I lead.  Never anything out of the ordinary.”

In assisting Poirot, Sheppard not only narrates the story, but continues his extensive documentation of the case as the two of them dig further into the facts and the hearts of everyone who knew Roger Ackroyd.  Poirot’s famous “method” of using his “little gray cells,” is put through its paces as facts are sifted, organized,  saved or discarded.  And Dr. Sheppard, as it turns out, is certainly saved from his fate of living a dull old fogey’s life.


Today’s readers enjoy twisted, shocking endings.  But when Christie published this story in 1926, crime novelists hadn’t fully adopted this technique and her masterful, but chilling ending to the story took many by surprise and sparked  controversy and criticism.  Because as methodical Poirot pulls the threads of the story together, the reader realizes that it is the narrator, gentle and low-keyed Dr. Sheppard who is the brutal murderer.  Having lived in the company of the murderer through the entire book without realizing it feels as shocking today as it must have been to the 1926 audiences who read it for the first time.

In the final interview, Poirot gives Sheppard the choice:  confess or find another way out, perhaps similar to the one Mrs. Ferrars — whom the doctor had been blackmailing — had chosen.  The book concludes with a final chapter where Sheppard finishes his book, and speaks directly to the reader to clear up all the final questions we’ve had.  We also learn that when his tale is finished, the good doctor will take the same poison his blackmailing victim chose.  We realize that the story Dr. Sheppard has been writing will become the narrative of Poirot’s greatest triumph, and not the story of a failed investigation, as Sheppard had hoped.

As it turns out, the story is one of Agatha Christie’s greatest triumphs, too.

‘Understand this, I mean to arrive at the truth.  The truth, however ugly in itself, is always curious and beautiful to the seeker after it.’ — Hercule Poirot.”



Massive Book Haul at Second Story Books, Rockville, MD

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to this place,” my friend admonished.  “And you…a librarian!”

So off we headed to Second Story Books, a used book warehouse-book store-antique shop located just outside of Washington, DC.  Several happy hours later I emerged with this:

Second st 5

They had to give me the top of a produce box to haul all my treasures away….

And I swear I had gone there with just a few items on my list!

My goal was to locate some more Guardian 1000 novels, specifically, two more Agatha Christies, a Kim Stanley Robinson and some others.  I found a few of the titles I was looking for, but, ahem, got a little carried away.

It was also so good to get a healthy dose of book shelf serendipity, innocent of friendly algorithmic nudges from our friends at Amazon/Goodreads.  In fact these days, the idea of getting my hands on a hunk of pulp I legally own — and can lend out to a friend or just give away to someone — really appeals.

Second Story Books in Rockville, MD.  Used book heaven.

Second Story Books in Rockville, MD. Used book heaven.

Did I have to get down on my hands and knees a few times?  Get a little dusty?  Sure, but I had forgotten the thrill of the chase and the fun of exploring through books I knew nothing about but looked so good….

And Second Story Books has a friendly and helpful staff!  Plenty of signs point out the way to appropriate shelves, and there is a map up front to help you get oriented.

The “annex” on the far side of the store had more treasures that haven’t been sorted yet, posters, old newspapers and other interesting items.

And so, the haul!  Here’s the damage, organized by author (of course).  I’ve marked the Guardian reads:

  • Bill Bryson, In a Sunburned Country (loved his Walk in the Woods!)
  • Agatha Christie, The Secret Adversary (Guardian 1000)
  • Agatha Christie, The Murder at the Vicarage (Guardian 1000)
  • Erskine Childers, The Riddle of the Sands (Guardian 1000)
  • Henry Fielding, Tom Jones (Guardian 1000)
Helpful staff are better than algorithms sometimes....

Helpful staff are better than algorithms sometimes….


  • Philippa Gregory, The Red Queen (Guilty pleasure category!)
  • Lynette Iezzoni, Influenza 1918 (Love medical history….)
  • John Kelly, The Great Mortality (Same as above)
  • David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas (Guardian 1000)
  • Kim Stanley Robinson, The Wild Shore and The Gold Coast (still can’t find Year of Rice and Salt, which I need for the Guardian read.  Trying to get into Sci-fi so I can relate to my nerd friends).
  • Alison Weir, The Life of Elizabeth I (another guilty pleasure, but on a higher level).

So, that’s the haul!  Everyone, enjoy the rest of the weekend.  Happy reading!  L.

Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh


Irvine Welsh

Norton Paperback.  1996, first published in Great Britain, 1993.  349 pgs with Scots dialect glossary.

Guardian 1,000 Novels:  State of the Nation Titles.

I’ve promised myself that the next three books (at least) are all going to be Guardian novels so I can have some hope of “moving forward” as we like to say, towards  my almost ridiculous goal of reading the 1,000 best!

So, Trainspotting.  I can honestly say I’ve never read anything like this before.  This is a series of stories about a group of heroin addicts in Edinburgh, Scotland in the 1980s.  There is a core group of, well, I’m not sure we can actually call them friends, that the book follows — some of whom are addicts, some alcoholics, and all dysfunctional.  The entire book is written in Scots dialect, which after a while was okay for me, with my American English, once I got used to sounding sentences like the following out loud:

“It wis last Christmas thit Julie died.  Ah nivir made the funeral.  Ah was lyin in ma ain puke oan a mattress in Spud’s gaff, too fucked tae move.  It wis a shame, cause Julie n me wir good mates.”

You get it?

Welsh explained that he wrote this way because he wanted to speak out in the characters’ own voices; in contrast to writing with a “waspish” narrative voice that demeans and talks down to the characters.

It would be a joke for me to try to “review” this book — I have no understanding of the world these characters inhabit.  As a reader, I shifted from being repulsed, frightened, amused, grieved, angry, and once and a while, touched, by these fragments of stories.

There is no real organization to the novel.  You are simply dropped in and out of these peoples’ lives — some characters are constants, such as the antihero, Mark Renton — and some play mere cameo roles such as the tragic mom, Alison.  I found this kaleidoscopic treatment of characters often frustrating.  Everyone seems to have two or three nicknames, plus their real name — and sometimes I wasn’t even sure who was narrating a segment.  But, that was also real to me — very much like real life where people turn up at odd moments of your life.  I found that Welsh’s style worked in that respect, that all these characters were able to describe their view of this dysfunctional society they inhabited.  The chaos of the book reflected well the chaos of their experiences — drugs, welfare, unemployment, crime, violence and pointlessness.

“Basically, we live a short, disappointing life, and then we die.  We fill up oor lives wi shite, things like careers and relationships to delude oorsels that it isnae aw totally pointless.  Smack’s an honest drug, because it strips away these delusions….Eftir that, ye see the misery ay the world as it is, and ye cannae anaesthetise yirsel against it.”

This was a difficult read for me, but books shouldn’t just be pretty presents delivered up in a neat packages to open up and put on a shelf.  Trainspotting was raw,  sometimes incomprehensible, jagged and almost unfinished.  Welsh himself admitted that the heist scene at the end was just a way for him to finish the book — otherwise he’d be still writing it!  I found this insight and others from listening to Welsh’s own discussion during a 2007 BBC World Book Club broadcast.

Another book I probably wouldn’t have read, without the Guardian 1,000 list.  Not the most enjoyable, but one of the most thought-provoking.


Another Challenge Read Done! Loving Trollope….

BarchesterTBarchester Towers

Anthony Trollope

Barsetshire Chronicles, Book 2

Signet Classics.  1963.  535 pgs with afterword by Robert W. Daniel.

Originally published in three volumes in 1857.

Guardian 1000 challenge.  Comedy titles.

Other Trollope books I’ve read:  The Warden (blogged, 11/4/13) and The Way we Live Now (blogged, 10/12/13).

I know I’ve said this before but at the risk of being a little repetitive, I love, love, love this challenge for leading me to books and authors I would never have picked up — but ended up so happy with.

Regarding this particular title, I’m not alone.  Barsetshire Towers is considered one of Trollope’s most-loved, most accessible, books.  It is very funny.  For once I wished I was reading it on the Kindle so I could have marked out the laugh-out-loud passages; there were many!  The book is about power.  Whether it be between church colleagues (huge fighters, here!), husbands and wives, men and women, masters and servants — there is a constant struggle for who has the upper hand.  But Trollope keeps this theme light; no one is going to get deeply hurt here.


See more good Trollope goodies and info at this cool website:

This is the second book of Trollope’s six novel series, the Barsetshire Chronicles.  The first,  The Warden (1855),  introduced us to several key characters who I assume (and hope) will reappear in the rest of the series.  The Warden focused on Mr. Harding, a sweet and gentle churchman; his son-in-law, fire-breathing and hard-charging Archdeacon Grantly; his lovely but firm daughter, Eleanor, and a host of other characters.  Barchester Towers continues their story and adds in more drama represented by the arrival of a new bishop, Rev. Proudie.  Bishop Proudie’s entourage includes his obsequious and conniving chaplain, Mr. Slope and his strident, forceful and dictatorial wife, Mrs. Proudie (the real bishop!).  A power struggle ensues between the forces of Grantly (high-church) and Slope (low-church).  I confess that the intricacies of nineteenth-century English church politics escapes me, but there are enough references that I can discern the basic principles.  However, these concepts take second place to the human characters who struggle for the upper hand in such a spiritual, religious manner!  I thought a few times, hey, WWJD?

  • Pros:  lots of social satire, wonderful characterizations.  I also love, love Trollope’s use of last names as a clue to the characters:  domineering Mrs. Proudie, slimy Slope, social ladder-climbing Mrs. Lookaloft, and the Quiverful family (fourteen kids!) and many others.
  • Cons:  well, wordy.  Even my Trollope-love gets worn down by the many side-plots and asides.  Trollope likes to appeal to the reader in a blatant way which sometimes grated on my nerves when it didn’t advance the story.

Only one more Trollope on the Challenge list:  book six of the Barsetshire Series.  Now, this will represent a challenge to my OCD tendency to strictly read books series in order….should I read the intervening three books to get at the last one?  I think I’ll spend some more time at:  Anthony to get a feel for the intervening books.  Maybe I’ll reward myself by checking out the BBC’s lovely miniseries based on the first two books, as well!  Stay tuned!


Trollope’s The Way We Live Now

way we liveThe Way We Live Now

Anthony Trollope

1875.  According to Wikipedia, The Way We Live Now was one of the last major Victorian novels to appear in serialized form.

I read a public domain version, downloaded from Amazon.  This is a very long novel — with 100 chapters.  A 2012 paper reprint counts it in at 890 pgs.

Other books I’ve read by Trollope:  none!  But the Guardian list contains at least three — and once again, thanks to the List I’ve read something absolutely fantastic that I would never have picked up.  So, more from Trollope as soon as I can get to them.

Guardian 1000 Challenge.  State of the Nation titles.

Where do I begin to try to summarize this huge, fantastic story??  First of all, Trollope’s life is interesting — an unhappy childhood dominated by broke, creative, volatile parents — his father failed taking the bar because of his bad temper and his mother actually went off to America to try to make the family fortune.  She then returned home and wrote novels to try to support them.  Despite not making ends meet, Anthony’s parents were both very concerned with maintaining their gentry status — so Anthony was sent off to the best schools where he was bullied for being the poor kid.  Then, Anthony began a long and somewhat up and down career as

a civil servant in the British Post Office.  He was said to be responsible for establishing the the famous red postal boxes.

Trollope was really upset about the financial crisis of 1873, some of which was caused by speculation—especially in railroad building.  The plot of The Way We Live Now revolves around a huge swindle concerning this very same subject.

Augustus Melmotte has come to London with his family to set up a financial house in the City. He is rumored to be a Jew, fantastically wealthy and somehow connected to the failure of a bank in Vienna — or maybe in Paris.  No one is sure, but every broke aristocrat is dying to get in good with him.  (Shades of Bernie Madoff??).  His daughter, Marie, is rumored to be an heiress worth millions — which attracts a raft of worthless, stupid noblemen hoping to make their fortunes.  Mixed in with this crowd are the Carbury’s — broke gentry who pin their hopes on son Felix (one of the most dissolute, ridiculous characters you will ever meet in fiction) snatching up Marie.  Of course Melmotte has no intention of giving his rich child over to the penniless Felix — never mind the fact that he is Sir Felix — but Melmotte is also intent on playing his own game of stocking a board of directors for his Grand South Central Mexican Railway with stupid and quiescent nobility.  So, Melmotte will use Felix for his own purposes for a while.  What Melmotte doesn’t count on is:

  • Marie’s infatuation with Felix and her own ruthless ambitions
  • Paul Montague’s nagging questions about when actual building on the railway will begin
  • Some impertinent questions from a jealous newspaperman
  • Questions from his faithful and usually complacent clerk about actually how far Melmotte is going to go this time…

This story really has everything:  greed, power, status, love, politics, finance, bigotry, a visit from the Emperor of China….I could go on and on.  There must be almost 50 substantive and fascinating sub-characters, each with his or her own story to tell.  But in the center of it all sits Melmotte.  Is he a swindler?  An anti-hero?  A fatally flawed adventurer who is merely the instrument to punish a corrupt and valueless society?  Read this fantastic story and be the judge yourself.

I have to also add that the BBC produced a luscious adaptation of TWWLN in 2001 starring David Suchet as Melmotte and Mathew Macfadyen as Felix Carbury.  I made myself the read the whole book before watching it, though, and hope you will also.