Riparare i Torti - Pino Cacucci

 

I hadn't read a book by Cacucci in ages. And it's lovely to see that he's still mildly obsessed with Mexico, and that he remains an excellent storyteller. 

As usual, he tells a (fictional) story of forgotten characters based on real events: the Italian sailors left stranded and uncertain in Mexico as a result of their country's entry into WWII. The story is compelling, and while most of the characters and rather dogmatically sketched (there is often little room for nuances) I found it quite easy to grow fond of a lot of them. 

Through the life of the "proper Fascist" whose identity gets stolen Cacucci shows some very justifiable sympathy for those poor idiots who were taken (or allowed themselves to be taken) for a ride by a regime based on hollow promises and misconceptions. Yet, I wish he wouldn't err so much towards the conspirational at times, because he has enough factual history on his hands to make for a really good novel without resorting to too many mysteries and subterfuges. 

Creation Lake - Rachel Kushner

 

Underwhelming. Well-written, obviously, but underwhelming. 

This is a fairly customary Kushner plot - with one woman very much going her own way regardless of the reader's (and society's) expectations. I don't think I've ever had a problem with her main characters being, in one way or another, dislikeable. But in this case Sadie (let's call her that, even if we are reminded time and again that it's not her real name) is not just dislikeable, she's uninteresting. 

Her occasional bouts of self-criticism are too cynical to feel like anything more than just a literary trope, her personalities are so many and so different that it ultimately looks like she doesn't have one at all, and the ending (with her Catalan buen ritiro) is actually pathetically trite (much like her realization that those "stars" that move are actually satellites and the potential for intrusion by powerful entities virtually limitless). 

The Fathers - John Niven

 

A book that I picked up by chance, and chiefly because I felt that it could provide some light entertainment and occasional insight. 

And that it did. With the obvious clash of cultures and classes that its cover promised, but done with a gracious touch that reminded me of John Lanchester. 

Nothing in the book is excessively surprising. Things seem to take a turn for the worse, then everything works out for pretty much everyone. Yet, there are enough moments - funny, dramatic (this book did nothing to placate my fear of children and grapes), insightful - to make it a compelling read. And Niven does a really good job of highlighting what I think is one of the most overlooked issues for "my" people: middle and upper-middle class people don't have children, or have them very late in life. 

Stoner - John Williams

 

A book that I read this Christmas during a solo trip to see my parents. And what a pleasant read it was!

Perhaps the beauty of campus novels is that (when they are good?) they age remarkably well. Or perhaps it's just that, having been on a campus for the last 20 years, I feel particularly drawn to these kind of stories. 

Stoner though has a significant added value: its main character is one of those figures who seem to be particularly dear to (some) students despite not having the infinite list of credentials of senior academics. And, go figure, I rather relate to that!

Though one thing I can't quite relate to is Stoner's (at times dreadful, at times simply improbable) family life, or his rivalries at work (perhaps I'm too unimportant at my university to even be on anyone's radar!). 

Money - Martin Amis

 

London Fields, I was fully behind. Witty, engaging, "reasonably excessive". 

Money, on the other hand, was for me a completely pointless exercise. Its vitriolic portrayal of the excesses of the 1980s didn't read particularly vitriolic; just boring. And its depictions of the dodgy minor characters that populate the book are as lazily caricatural as their own names. 

I found this book to be as devoid of meaning as Wall Street with Michael Douglas. The biggest difference is that Wall Street made me lose a couple of hours, Money is a book that I dragged along for a good couple of weeks...

The Centaur - John Updike

 

After years without doing it, I went to the Barbican library and picked up this book for 30p. I was very pleased to see that inflation hadn't caught up quite yet (though perhaps books used to sell for 20p back in the day?!?). 

Having only ever read Rabbit, Run I was very happy to read another book by Updike and The Centaur did prove to be a remarkably good pick-up. 

I most definitely don't know Greek mythology well enough to understand all the parallels (and find the novel excessively pretentious as a result), but I do know a hypocondriac father when I see one, remain a sucker for suburban American settings, and think that there is nothing better than a good campus novel.