Fourteenth Century Dugh

Today I went to see the exhibition at the National Gallery in London of art from 14th century Siena. It is marvellous and there are many delights to choose from among the exhibits. But on a Friday night, when parents of teenagers everywhere are facing a weekend of wrangling grumpy youth, I decided the painting of Christ Discovered in the Temple, made by Simone Martini way back in 1349, was the one to choose to post - for its value as encouragement. There is grumpy young Christ, looking at his parents with the irritated disdain of Harry Enfield's teenager Kevin. 

Christ turned out all right. Other teenagers may not reach Christ's heights, but don't despair.

Missing the Greatness

 Once again I am banging my head against my incomprehension in the face of great works of art.

As already documented on this blog Proust (in the original French no less) already defeated me when I (or Proust) reached the hawthorns - and not only me, apparently, but also an American called Russell Baker whose account of his struggles was sent to me by George from 20011 blog.

Now I am, not for the first time, tackling TS Eliot's Four Quartets. So many people admire these poems, not least, (from my perspective), my dad. I have never sufficiently admired TS Eliot - to the extent that when I heard someone request The Waste Land as their Desert Island book the other day, I actually said out loud, “Noooo, you'll be disappointed; it truly hasn't THAT many depths to reveal.” I don't think The Waste Land is rubbish, by the way, (and actually I know bits of it off by heart, because I have read it so many times). However, while I understand that at the time it was published it must have seemed excitingly unlike anything published before, I don't think it stands up to long, close scrutiny.

And as I begin on Eliot's Quartets I slam up once more against the familiar obstacles: I just don't think Eliot is an exceptionally great poet and it seems to me that, to hide this fact, he often took refuge in being odd and obscure. I acknowledge that many people adore obscurity, perhaps because it gives them a role, an opportunity to project, to create in a way in that empty space where meaning ought to be. But I prefer meaning.

The particular line I have banged up against this time is the one that begins the second section of Burnt Norton:

"Garlic and sapphires in the mud"

Is that genuinely a good image? Does it really speak to anyone with clarity? If it does, what does it say ( beyond conjuring a very peculiar picture in the reader's mind)?”

Recent Reading

Not as good as other books I’ve read by the author. I have the impression he set himself the task of writing a novel a year, or similar, and as a result he ploughed on to get one out as each temporal milestone loomed up, regardless of its quality. Moderately entertaining.

Favourite quotation: “His chronic sense of the perplexing character of the moral universe descended upon him heavily.

Well-written, slightly dated stories set in the nearish past. Possibly the nearish past is the time most likely to seem slightly dated, as it is the period that many readers remember and, in reading it described, they recognise suddenly that it no longer exists. In a way the stories are horror stories, in that they concern a world where there is very little love. The general tenor of the book is faintly melancholic.

Favourite quotation: This isn’t exactly a favourite, but it gives a sense of the book’s tone and the writer’s power of observation - “It was years since he had ridden in a bus. He had forgotten how the seats smelled, made hot by the sun through glass, and the rough white tickets that came whirring out of the machine.”

This began intriguingly but ended up as a bit of agit-prop about why we should be nice to illegal migrants. The idea that people who oppose unrestricted migration need to have it explained to them that illegal migrants are as human as they are is a patronising one. The question of open borders is not about emotions but about the practicality of large numbers of people who don't like aspects of the places where they live abandoning those places and movng to better-run, more orderly places, bringing with them all their cultural differences, unresolved resentments and inflated expectations. Leaving everything else aside, what becomes of the place they leave behind? Is it morally acceptable to give up on somewhere and see whether you can hitch yourself to another nation that has, through centuries of political convulsion and struggle, reached a place of stability and shared vision?

Favourite quotation: If I were to quote a sentence from the book, I’m sorry to say that it would only be to point out that the line editor did not do a careful enough job. Some clunky, ungrammatical lines have been left in, together with some analogies that don’t really work.

This book, an updated version of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, has had some terrible reviews, mainly because for some people Jane Austen is an object of worship and therefore it is sacrilege to play around with her work. I find Austen’s authorial voice irritating and therefore am not bothered if someone plays around with her work. I really enjoyed this clever, light hearted book.

Favourite quotation: The book is very light and I am not sure that any one line or paragraph is really worth repeating but I liked the modern twist given to the younger sister's rogue lover.

An extraordinary book about a man’s dedication to obeying God’s will. Highly recommend for those interested in Christianity.

Favourite quotation: “The work of the kingdom, the work of labouring and suffering with Christ, is no more spectacular for the most part than the routine of daily living.”

(I took this at random, where the page fell open - there are plenty of other candidates within the book)

I was surprised how much I enjoyed this, given that it is whimsical. I went on to read another by the same author, the name of which I have forgotten - something involving lanterns? I am baffled by how much I enjoy the light dreamy atmosphere of Hoffman’s books. They are like pastries made by an expert pastry chef.

Favourite quotation: Like Anne Tyler, the authorial voice in Hoffman is omnipotent, telling the reader everything (compare Jane Gardam’s method in her story Blue Poppies, which is a masterclass in how to create a fictional world in a less intrusive way). However, Hoffman pulls off the same authorial voice as Tyler without being maddening, perhaps because the world she creates is not a real one, but slightly magical and clearly make-believe, the stuff of legend, which needs a narrator - “She’d already had more than her share of botched relationships, yet she’d agreed to have dinner with Eric, ever hopeful despite the statistics that promised her an abject and lonely old age” provides an example of what I mean. I forgot to say that recently I did actually drag myself through Anne Tyler’s Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant and I couldn’t bear it, because I felt she sets up characters and moves them about like chesspieces. They have no depth, no reality. It is campfire storytelling. Of course it is also a matter of taste and it is not to my taste. Returning to this book, “There are those who will use any excuse to throw caution to the wind” is a mildly amusing Hoffmann aside, I suppose; however the sentence goes on to descend into whimsy.

Spark is having a moment, thanks to a new biography about her. I think she is often almost brilliant and almost always fairly annoying. The book is concerned with evil and with madness - and, after Spark's odd fashion, Catholicism. 

Evil is a fascinating subject, but Spark doesn’t deal with it particularly satisfactorily here, preferring to amuse herself and slightly forgetting about pleasing the reader, (as elsewhere in her work, there is a faint sense that she rather despises her readers - and possibly all human beings). 

Favourite quote: Spark's description of EU bureaucrat Ernst's addiction to trying to imagine what things might be worth at auction:

"When he visited the Pope, even then, he couldn't help calculating the Pope's worldly riches (life-proprietor of the Vatican and contents...) Ernst knew it  was a frightful habit, but he told himself it was realistic; and it was too exciting altogether ever to give up, this mental calculation of what beauty ws worth on the current market." 

Additionally, despite the book being published in 1990, Spark has a character who has “a job as a junior researcher in artificial intelligence, the bionics branch. He explained this artificial intelligence: the study of animal intelligence systems as patterns for mechanical devices, a mixed science involving electronics and biology.”

I bought this because I wanted to get a glimpse of life among ambitious and upwardly mobile citizens in Lagos. It was vivid and I quite enjoyed it, although the ending was mildly puzzling.

Favourite quotation: There is an interesting admission that slavery has been practised by people other than whites - "We sold slaves to them. We had slaves too, in Africa. Before and after.” 

Mind you the character who says this is disapproved of for doing so.

A well-meaning attempt to raise awareness about grooming gangs via fiction, this novel reveals the fact that Scruton, like Barry Humphries and AA Gill, could not write a good novel, despite being an exceptionally brilliant person. At least he was in good company.

Favourite quote: better not to go there.