Welcome to this week’s blog, and our roundup of your comments and photos from last week. There, the question of Elena Ferrante loomed large. “I’ve made yet another attempt to read Elena Ferrante and I fear that I couldn’t get into it,” said fingerlakeswanderer. “I’m not sure what the issue is. Would someone mind telling me why I should really stick with the first book? I keep hearing that they’re magical, and I WANT to love them...”
Initially, no one did seem to want to explain the appeal. Instead, PatLux said:
I stuck with the first Ferrante book and found it so so-so that I will not be reading the others in the series. I do not understand what all the hype was about. Certainly not magical.
“Don’t ask me,” added machenbach . “I’m an inveterate finisher of books and I just couldn’t get through My Brilliant Friend.”
Worse was to come. “I hated that first Ferrante book,” said Kristina Wilde. “It was like listening to someone whinge at you. Just bleugh.” The thread remained so determinedly negative that everythingsperfect asked: “Who are all those people who love Elena Ferrante and where (and why) are they hiding?”
An answer came at last from Malunkey and it was a good one:
I recently read My Brilliant Friend and thought it was excellent. As a fictional account of childhood friendship, I think it surpasses any other book I’ve ever read on that subject. It describes the infatuation, the jealousy, the intimacy, the capriciousness in minute, pitch-perfect detail. It’s also that rare bird: a bildungsroman written by an experienced novelist, and all the better for it. My Brilliant Friend feels very naturalistic, but I’ll bet it’s not very autobiographical – or if autobiographical, then thoroughly sculpted and re-imagined.
I think its virtues are traditional, realist ones. You read about lovingly evoked characters and immerse yourself in their worlds. As a realist novel, it also offers a portrait of a society, but one that is very much filtered through the consciousness of the characters... I’ve known people like Lila – brilliant, spontaneous, fearless – who’ve fallen through the cracks. The contrast between Lenu and Lila is deliciously drawn and I can’t wait to get onto book two to see how it develops.
Elsewhere, WebberExpat told us that he had “polished off” The Yellow Birds by Kevin Powers. It was: “quite impressive in a revolting sort of way.” Also: “written in a lyrical and at times beautiful prose that cross-cuts the savagery.” Which sounds splendid. But it was the following comment from WebberExpat that caught the most attention:
Next atop the wobbly bedstand book hillock is Under The Net by Iris Murdoch. It will be my first by Murdoch and my first by a female author in far too long a time.
lljones was pleased:
I started reading Iris Murdoch’s novels in about 1978, and consumed nearly everything she wrote before her death. Can’t wait to hear impressions from someone reading her for the first time!
On the subject of finishing quality novels, SydneyH made eloquent notes on Wallace Stegner’s Angle Of Repose:
Something curious I’ve learned about Stegner is that he is a writer of sex as much as he is a writer of the West. In all three of his books that I’ve read, he focuses on sex as something terrible and life-defining. I think I’d still recommend The Spectator Bird to new readers first, but it is a strong book, and I’m looking forward to reading Recapitulation and Crossing to Safety.
There followed an interesting question:
The most important thing about Angle of Repose is that it is Conedison’s Magnum Opus of choice. Most of you will know that mine are The Vivisector and A House for Mr Biswas.
A question for the crowd - what is your Magnum Opus?
Suggestions so far include War And Peace, Lessing’s The Four-Gated City and Shikasta, Robertson Davies’ Deptford Trilogy, and Dos Passos’ USA Trilogy. Please add your own below the line.
Just before we get there, best wishes to pearcesleftfoot, who writes:
I’m going into hospital soon for an operation which will keep me off work for around six weeks so I’m planning to get through a sizeable portion of my to-be-read pile. After a previous operation I read The Loney with the dazzling effects of morphine coursing through my veins. It was magnificent. I hope for similar experiences this time.
Sounds to me like Malcolm Lowry’s Under The Volcano may be a good choice during that interesting recovery period... I’m sure there are other possibilities too.
Interesting links about books and reading
- The New Yorker explains how Rousseau predicted our current problems with dumbocracy and the people growing fed up of experts.
- New York Times reporters recommend books about the regions in which they work and live (hat tip to commenter Swelter.)
-
A list of books that changed their titles - for the better (unless you think The Dead Un-Dead is catchier than Dracula...)
- Following on from last week’s Pulp Fiction gallery, marvel at this selection of books by the infamous Ed Wood.
If you would like to share a photo of the book you are reading, or film your own book review, please do. Click the blue button on this page to share your video or image. I’ll include some of your posts in next week’s blog.
If you’re on Instagram and a book lover, chances are you’re already sharing beautiful pictures of books you are reading, “shelfies” or all kinds of still lifes with books as protagonists. Now, you can share your reads with us on the mobile photography platform – simply tag your pictures there with #GuardianBooks, and we’ll include a selection here. Happy reading!
