the Man Who Was Thursday

This book, a nightmarish novel by Gilbert Keith Chesterton, that sly old dog, is very rightly one of my new favourites. Without giving away any spoilers, the premise is the Supreme Anarchist Council, who furtively behind-the-scenes are really running the shop, and there are seven of them named after days of the week* - and the man who was Thursday, otherwise known as Gabriel Symes, an extravagant poet; after one of the Council's meetings is taken into a darkened room where he meets with a mysterious figure (supposedly not one of the Council, though it should be said that all of them are also pretty mysterious figures) who gives him a small blue card, accompanied by the instructive comment that they are now working with the Metropolitan Police, in an effort to infiltrate the Anarchists and foil their plans, many of which, because of course they do, involve dynamiting large public events and buildings and personnel.

   Anyway Mr Symes/Thursday is rightly terrified by all this, and cops it to the police in his heart - later divulging this to other members of the Council as he spins an ever-more desperate web of lies, half-truths and mental gymnastics in trying to perjure or gain advantages over the other Anarchists while seeking their comeuppance by the law... Of course, they soon catch on. And for want of spoiler bait I'm leaving it there and retreating into discussion of its abstract qualities.

   Chesterton has played an absolute blinder here. The resonant subtextual symbolism and lurid imagery and superlatively playful prose make for a riotous read, the pacing feels a little off kilter but it's gripping throughout anyway and you really feel your way through the fears, the machinations and frustrations of the characters, despite how opaque and duplicitous they all succeed in being throughout. The ending will have you howling for anything more, better or different, and yet at an absolute loss for how else it could have ended. Sunday is surely the most ominous, powerfully charismatic villains I've encountered in text** since Culzean, and that's saying something. A fantastically riddling read for mystery thriller lovers of all ages.

* Yes, I know that's similar to Reservoir Dogs, they copied it. This is from 1908.

** Yeah, and Satan probably counts as this too but he's long since given up reading over my shoulder when I read the Bible, probably, but I fear he's leveraging my own extra reading against me in unfathomable ways. God knows I'm the furthest thing from a heretic when it comes to the crunch decision point - at least that's what I'd hope and aspire of myself.

The Waste Land and other poems

This book by T. S. Eliot was a pleasant surprise. If you're a regular reader you may recall during my post about Rupi Kaur I somewhat dismissively used Eliot as the counter-example of a poet whose work was purportedly and academically excellent but somewhat dry and lifeless when actually imbibed, and I admit here and now that I wrote that without actually having read any of Eliot's work at least since GCSE Poetry Anthology days - if even then! And so it was, that with trepidation and intrigue, I bought this for 79p in Oxfam and read it in a couple of sittings - and whewf.

   The titular poem itself is fairly impenetrable but also gives you far more to work with as a reader than I was expecting. I don't actually know what I was expecting - but whatever it was, the actual poem is far shorter and actually pretty powerful stuff, if admittedly I would have found it somewhat inaccessible had I not committed so much time on this blog to mystical theology and comparative religion... Anyway, that said, The Love Song of Alfred J. Prufrock is just saddening, a bleakly accurate portrait of postwar romanticism well-bridged into the modernist era. Ash Wednesday and the Two Choruses from 'The Rock' however were deeply powerful, and I saw as for the first time that Eliot's struggle as a poet was far higher-minded and nobler than the mere academical muddyfooting that I'd previously shunted it down as, and religious ideals shine through gaps between the lines in these two poems particularly with a light and resonance that I think is truly powerful and would speak to many people who may not even like poetry at all. Religious readers will, I wager, find much of inspiration here as Eliot responds to the grim, industrial choke-points of secular 20th-centuryism.

   Aside from the traditionally contemporary gripe that in a couple of places he'll quote something in Latin or Greek without offering a translation in the footnotes, I actually really enjoyed this book and imagine it will be another one for the semi-regular poetic rereading as I grow in my own capacities and voice as a writer. Definitely go for this one if you're new to Eliot - at least this of his books hasn't had The Ultimate Furry-Friendly Musical based on it as with one of his other publications.

Phantasmagoria

This book, by the pseudo-anonymous D. M. Riddles, is effectively just a creepypasta that's been sucked off its online home and printed, for some inchoate incoherent reason. It's a "scary story" told in free (and poor) verse about a kid who finds a cursed notebook that allows him to see reality through the Grim Reaper's eyes, a lá the narration in The Book Thief - and the whole book as such functions more or less like a long, unbroken whinge as the underlying riddle, whatever it is, I can't be bothered to figure it out because it'll probably demand the reading of the two sequels promised to be on their way to follow this one and fuck that noise. I'm dropping this off at Oxfam, don't touch it with a bargepole. Not because it's necessarily cursed, but because it is definitively crap.

The Magos

This book is the fourth instalment in the epic sci-fi thriller Eisenhorn series by Dan Abnett - as well as the newest novel in the series, this includes eight or so short stories that flesh out the world and side characters to our eponymous Inquisitor quite brilliantly. As ever with Abnett's writing, the pacing is punchy and gripping, the horror element pitch-perfect (you can hear the warp itself screaming with glee at some of the sentences herein) and for my money I think in terms of dialogue the characterisation has never been better. It helps having Gregor as a third-person figure rather than the narrator as in the first three books - not that his narrations wasn't great, but having him as more of an outside figure to the readers helps maintain his elementary mystique that makes for such a killer read. Don't read this without also having read all of the first two trilogies... Though that said, maybe stay away even if you have. Warp taint, innit.

Stardust

This book by Nail Gaiman is an absolute treasure. Prepare for a deep dive into a world so magical it feels almost like Gaiman is witness-bearing to its reality as a travel writer rather than a mere imagineer - fairies, witches, foul-mouthed falling star-folk, pirates and fratricide aplenty - this is simply one of the most fun stories I've had the pleasure of reading for a while. Old stories are reforged on every other page and always rehashed with so generous a helping of Neil's own freshly-conjured brilliant quirks of ethereality that you may well find yourself, as I did, finishing this in only a sitting or two within a day of picking it up. I mean, lockdown helps with the time management on that front, but even assuming you're reading this and Covid 19 is no longer The News, I'm sure you can find time for a rollicking romp through the Gap in the Wall and find yourself adrift with Tristran Thorn on his romantic quest for something or other. I'm quite pleased and shocked at having got this far without dropping a spoiler so I'll sign off to stay safe on that.

The Bucket

This book by Allan Ahlberg is a mixed bag. It's an autobiographical look through rose-tinted age-fogged glasses at the author's own childhood, in 1940's/50's Oldbury in the Black Country - and for a Millennial reader like myself, the sheer distance between his childhood and the contemporary average is mind-boggling, but I pride myself on being feral enough that despite being born in the 1990's my own youth bears many hallmarks of similarity to what is presented in this book. We meet a young Allan who hates baths, loves hiding under the table, dart, playing football, alternately squashing and empathizing with snails, playing with things that aren't even technically toys but can become such through active imagination, etc.

   I'm not really sure who this book's meant to be for. Ahlberg is a masterful and prolific kids' author and this claims to be his first book intended for adults, but other than nostalgic curiousity for the inner life and memories of a similarly-aged person, I'm struggling to think why exactly an adult reader would read this off their own bat. It would be a fantastic book to read to younger readers to give them a sense of how much lifestyles, attitudes and such can change in a short fifty year generation or so - but in my opinion it just wasn't entertaining enough on its own merit to warrant picking up and reading as a grown-up. Unless you really like terse poetry, rambling anecdotes about half-forgotten things, and of course buckets and buckets of Brummie good cheer.

Fox

This book by Isabel Thomas and illustrated by Daniel Egnéus is a visually fantastic and lyrical ode to that darkest and greatest most mystical of natural forces; death.* It follows the life cycle of a mother fox raising her litter - and trusting their instinct to persist their foxy little lives even after their ma gets [SPOILER WARNING] got and becomes food for the worms, flies, and fungi. Probably not a book for every kid but ones that are interested in nature will love the pictures and learn to fear the Reaper less should they give this one a chance.

* Not quite as comprehensively as certain other books lobbed at the younger audience, but the upshot of how it's pulled off in this one is far less morbidly humourous and instead performs more like a sanitary duty to the kids' psyche with an adroit and non-scary inspection of Death as Natural... just part of the circle of life!

Pistache

This book, by Sebastian Faulks, is a brilliantly inventive and meta-Faustian anthology of spoofed imitation samples writing like other writers. A voice-skipping task with Faulks pulls off with great aplomb and good humour - the Dan Brown, T. S. Eliot and Noel Coward ones are particularly funny I thought - but in the sense of remaining spoiler free I won't give away too many of the names in there but they're all at least pretty funny. Worth keeping on the coffee table or it's the kind of book you could read on the Tube or something, pretty broad appeal to bibliophiles and literary-buffs all across the table I'd reckon for this one.

Now We Are Six Hundred

This book is a collection of Doctor Who themed poetry, apparently written in the Time Lord's own actual voice, by the supremely talented voice-snatcher James Goss - and if that wasn't enough already it also includes a number of pretty stylish illustrations apparently by Russell T. Davies himself! The poems vary hugely in terms of content and tone, as you'd expect from one such as a Gallifreyan consciousness; but deal with the show's lore deftly and with utmost respect for the integrity of poetic form. A powerful, resonant collection in my book. Retiring really spoke to me with Twelve's distinct voice, while The Hard Stair struck me as a very timely almost whinge foreshadowing Thirteen - also there's a poem about a Dalek, which is fun, though later on I almost felt personally attacked as a poet and Whovian myself by the phrasing of one of the lines in Shortness of Breath, but that's another story for another time, probably never. To Her Coy Doctor is presumably by River Song, or Clara... or - and some of these seem to be about the Time War, which we can only presume is still going on in some kind of poetic format?* There's just so much mystery shrowding the show that it inevitably spills out when the showrunners start upselling that as pure poetic mindbombs etcetera, very enjoyable collection if you're a fan of the show. 11/10. and no that's not my score rating of 110% just a DT MS reference.

* As though the book's first inset page claims it was published in 2017 - I'm pretty confident I would have had a copy by now, and it's been retconned into reality this very year for sake of Chris Chibnall's metasocial ethical integrity for what he's doing to the Timeless Children of Sheffield and its surrounding countryside... They set giant spiders on us up here, you do know that down in London don't you? It's all a scareshow shitfest for maximal profit. Gross

Holes

This book by Louis Sachar is a marvel of young readers' literature in so many ways, but - and I hate that I have to do this, but I do - it's not as good as the film for two simple reasons:

1. The soundtrack
2. Shia Labeouf

And that is all I have to say about this book, other than that obviously it's a great read, with a really fun plot and satisfying ending, with a pretty interesting set of themes and one of my favourite side-characters from any kids' novel in the hero that is Zero.

Spider-Man: Full Circle

This book is a collaborative work by seven different writers as a celebration of the iconic character's 80th birthday since Spidey's inception by the late great Stan Lee - and to tell you the flat-up truth, I'm really not sure what happens in this comic at all, despite just having read the thing twice. It's a helter-skelter ride of apocalyptic fervour-dream wish-wash madness with werewolves and time travel and a fully circular plot and some kind of magical pixie escape clause or something or maybe Peter Parker's just hallucinating the whole thing while stranded dying in space... I don't know. It was very entertaining though, and there's also a really fun little appendix where the writers and editorial team are chatting about how to make the ending work along with the beginning (oh, should note, when the writers were working on this they knew what had just happened but not where the overall story was going or who'd be passing them, or taking, their plot relay torches at each step); shed some neat lights over the collective process of pulling off a story as crazy in content and methodological form as this one. 8/10 overall, might be higher on a further reading in the future, though also I found myself digging into the Omegaverse lore after being prompted into such a curiosity by this comic - and boy, lemme tell you, that's one rabbit-hole you don't want or need to find the bottom of. You've been warned. By a friendly neighbourhood Spiderman [not me].

the Prodigal God

This book by Tim Keller is an explosively insightful and well-considered re-exploration of the parable commonly misknown as the story about a prodigal son - when in fact, as Keller so adeptly points out, the story is a story about God's family, skewing its various three members narratively in ways that totally upend conventional contemporary wisdom about societal and religious norms. As a singular book I can only think of one or two that effectively provide a comprehensive theological overview of Christianity's core point more concisely and powerfully than this. Highly recommended as an apologetic evangelistic primer for believers looking to share their faith simply and authentically.

the Book of the People

This book by A. N. Wilson is a masterfully woven deep dive into how to read the Bible as emergent from its contained truth claims unpacked from history, context and intention. It is written with a poetic eye for detail and a rigorously pragmatic approach to problem-solving the tangles and conflicts of meta-historical academic considerations of Scripture - instead, Wilson is bent on showing us how Scripture comes alive when it is lived in, understood by meaningful participation in the story of God's people, and that is an immensely reinvigorating view of the Bible: regardless of your religious belief I think you would find this book a stimulating and freshly thought-provoking take on the tenets of biblical thinking. Highly recommended for apologetic reading if you're already a believer or an explorer.

Emil and the Sneaky Rat

This book by Astrid Lindgren is a hearty romp that will amuse the children just as much as the adults reading this to them - think what if Just William was Swedish, only with a far more elusive tone to the narration that lends an almost mythically folklorish bent to many of these tales; in which Emil, a young boy always getting into distinctly Emilian mischief, shocks and delights many people in his hometown and the surrounding villages. I highly commend this book for readers between five and eight as a rough bracket.

Romans 1-7 for You

This book by Tim Keller was a real treat. I read through the whole thing as a Bible study with my dad, which was a great means of digesting better the sheer amount of incredible commentary Keller brings to what many consider the theological cornerstone of New Testament systematic thinking - that being, obvs, the book of Romans itself. Tim writes to and for the laypeople, always considering well the many sides and dimensions to take into account when talking about the application of deeper passages of scripture to our modern lives, modelling ourselves as we must on Paul as he strives to emulate Christ... it was a bonus crossover for me having been reading through this weekly having also read Phoebe earlier this year, which is a great resource for understanding the original historical context and impact of the Romans' epistle.

Chapter & Verse: 1000 Years of English Literature

This book, which I can't find for sale anywhere on the internet so good luck clarifying the veracity of the text should you wish to track it down in real life... is a visually striking ramble through the history of the literary pinnacles of our great Albion's loremasters and bards... from Keats to Shakespeare, Beowulf to Liz Barrett Browning, Margaery Kempe to Kubla Khan - snippets of the original handwritten manuscripts are included to flag up the sheer beauty and tenacity of what writers had to do before keyboards came along. I know, right? Also, I will mention here out of gratitude that this book was gifted to me some years ago by Yunzhou, or Eve, a good friend of mine from university days - if she's reading this, which I doubt, but I want to thank you for the present anyway, and sorry it took me so long to get around to reading it!

the Tale of Three Trees

This book by Angela Hunt is a powerful short story about ambition, hope, competitiveness and nature versus nurture... The prides of each of our three protreegonists is thwarted, but then totally vindicated, when they're turned into, respectively, a manger, a fishing boat, and a Roman cross: the threesome had always wanted to be of usage deeply important and treasurable; and now because the Jesus story happens to these trees they have eternal significance for their part in the saga. Touching, if not the most theologically compelling of stories, but this is not a book designed to convert non-Christian children so much as to stimulate the humble imagination of all possible readers to the transcendent truths of the Crucifixion as it happened.