The bombing of Guernica is rightly recognised as one of the most shocking and inhumane raids in modern warfare. The German Luftwaffe dropped bombs on a defenceless civilian population, allegedly for experimental purposes. As many facts and figures as history books can tell us, as many horrors as they describe, we read with a slightly detached view. By introducing individual characters, people who have a back story and a future and a family and a personality can we understand how it would feel to be part of such devastation. IT’S NOT GOING TO END WELL IS IT?
Apparently the first draft of this book was written in just 3 days. I have to say that doesn’t entirely surprise me. It’s not that I don’t think the book is good, it’s just not the sort of story which demands a whole lot of research. It’s subject matter is pretty straightforward and it’s style is quite simplistic. At times, it’s a bit too simplistic for my liking, written as it is from the perspective of a 9 year old German boy during WW2. There were times when I had to remind myself that kids then were a lot more innocent and naïve than they are today, but still I felt as if Bruno, our protagonist, seemed younger than 9. SO, TELL ME BRUNO’S STORY…
Like the previous two books in this trilogy, most of the action here is set in Cochadebajo de los Gatos and concerns the affectionately portrayed locals. Whereas the first book (The War Of Don Emmanuel’s Nether Parts) is concerned primarily with politics and the second (Senor Vivo And The Coca Lord) is centred around the drugs trade, this final instalment in the trilogy focuses on religion.
Following on from the fame of Dionisio in Senor Vivo And the Coca Lord, the Catholic Church and the Cardinal in particular decide they need to root out the heretics and begin a new Inquisition, with Cochadebajo as their ultimate target. Perhaps this is a backlash to the unstable society or, more likely, it is prompted by Cardinal Guzman’s own guilt.
Guzman isn’t a bad man, but he isn’t a chaste man either. He has a very loyal and affectionate maid and a surprisingly tender relationship with their illegitimate son, Cristobal. Guzman is well aware of his hypocrisy, in having this child and his guilt manifests itself physically, causing him great pain, illness and hallucinations.
Guzman is colourful creation, but so are all the characters here. As a book it can be read by itself, but is much better read as part of the trilogy, favourite characters return and more are introduced as the sub-plots weave themselves through the main narrative. Following on from the rest of the South American trilogy, there is a lot of magical realism throughout, as well as romance, violence and humour.
Out of all three, this is probably my least favourite book, but that’s not to say I don’t like it, rather that the other two were just stronger, more original and held my interest slightly better. I still thoroughly enjoyed this though and was sorry the trilogy had to come to an end. If, like most people I’ve spoken to, you’ve come to de Bernières through Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, then this trilogy will be quite a surprise to you. It’s still clearly de Bernières, with his wonderful character creations and vivid descriptions of war in one paragraph, romance in the next, but this trilogy is more comedic, perhaps more cartoony if one was being hyper-critical, but equally as entertaining and enthralling.
“His Eminence looked at the desk in his room and saw that it had become a rotten coffin through whose distorted boards there sprouted verminous cascades of ancient hair that waved like the tentacles of an anemone. There was no doubt that the grey wisps were growing apace and were winding about the furniture. A hank of it curled about his ankle and began to constrict it like a boa. He shouted, pulling his leg away, but the force reduced the casket to dust, and on the floor where his desk had been, there was now a cadaver watching him. The skin was shrunk over the bones like an Indian mummy, the hair was growing with the speed of a stream, and the amber teeth of the mouth smiled at him with contemptuous inanity.”
If you like this author you might like Captain Corelli’s Mandolin
If you like the colourful characters you might like The Book With No Name
If you like the theme of illegitimate children within the Church you might like The Scarlet Letter
Told in a dystopian future in which the USA has been replaced with Panem, the Hunger Games is the story of a particularly nasty form of entertainment. The 12 districts of Panem are ruled by the Capital, who have decided that in order to keep their subjects on their toes, each year one male and one female teen from each district must fight it out to the death in the Hunger Games – televised across the land for everyone’s entertainment. This is very much Battle Royale territory, kill or be killed, with the eventual winner being hailed a hero and winning enough food for them and their family for life.
Katniss Everdeen is the girl from District 12. We follow her from the initial reaping (the selection process) through her pre-Games interview, publicity campaign and eventual entry into the arena. Whilst in the arena, the competitor’s publicity teams can drum up sponsors for them, providing food, weapons and medical supplies when possible. Alliances are formed and ultimately tested, with Katniss unsure who to trust and who just wants her dead.
As a child growing up in the 80s a lot of books I read were post-apocalyptic, dystopian survival stories stemming from the fear of atomic war. This is reminiscent of these books and therefore appeals to me greatly. When I told my boyfriend I was reading it, he remarked ‘oh, so you’re an emo now?’ Perhaps this is the sort of book that would appeal to a disaffected teen, but it’s not exclusive in that, there’s a much broader appeal.
Although this is aimed primarily at teenagers, I actually found it quite exciting (and I’m a little bit older than a teenager!) It’s gruesome subject matter but not sensationalised in its style, which perhaps makes it somewhat viler. There’s a great sense of suspicion throughout and a real cynicism as to the media’s coverage of certain news events and the public’s morbid fascination with death and devastation.
“I don’t know how to say it exactly. Only… I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?” he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself? “I don’t want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I’m not.”
I bite my lip feeling inferior. While I’ve been ruminating on the availability of trees, Peeta has been struggling with how to maintain his identity. His purity of self. “Do you mean you won’t kill anyone?” I ask.
“No, when the time comes, I’m sure I’ll kill just like everybody else. I can’t go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to… to show the Capitol they don’t own me. That I’m more than just a piece in their Games,” says Peeta.
“But you’re not,” I say. “None of us are. That’s how the Games work.”
If you like the savage children aspect you might like The Lord Of The Flies
If you like the idea of children in a dystopian future you might like Brother In The Land
If you like the characters and storyline you might like Catching Fire
Unusually this book was recommended to me by both my Mum and my Dad. They tend to have very different tastes in literature so I suppose I initially read this out of curiosity. It was the first De Bernières book I’d read and I had no expectations at all. I began reading it whilst living abroad, hanging out in cafes, being very continental, bohemian etc. This was a mistake…
At one point I started crying in a café. Another time my friends turned up halfway through the last chapter. I couldn’t wait to get home to read it, so after a fun night with my friends, I sat in a shop doorway and read the last few pages by the light of the lampposts. Very few books have stayed with me as much as this one. Ok, so it’s a bit schmaltzy and not entirely historically accurate, but it’s a good story so who cares.
Corelli is an Italian Captain, sent to Kefalonia during WW2 with the occupying forces. He is met with resistance from the locals (perfectly understandable) until his charm and charisma win them over (not too believable, but I’ll let it slide). Actually, he is charming. I’d hang out with him.
Corelli is not a conscientious soldier. He wants, as much as possible, to have a peaceful war. He doesn’t care about the Nazis or Hitler and would much rather discuss Puccini than politics. His music is his first passion. Then he meets Pelagia, a local girl who is engaged to a member of the resistance. So far so Romeo and Juliet / love across the divide!
It’s essentially a love story, but there’s different forms of love at work here. The love between Dr Iannis and his daughter Pelagia, the love between Corelli and Pelagia, Carlo’s love for Corelli, and the love and support of the community for each other.
De Bernières has a great imagination for character creation. All of his characters are colourful and intriguing. There’s none of his familiar magical realism here but it’s not needed. This is a story about the impact of war on ordinary people. These are the stories you’ll never find in the history books, yet the ones which truly bring home the horror and loss suffered.
I’ve read this book twice now (so far) and each time, I’ve laughed and cried at the same parts and loved the characters more each time. Do yourself a favour and read it. In fact, do yourself two favours: read the book and avoid the film. Nicholas Cage? What were they thinking?!
“When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No… don’t blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But it is!”
If you like a good wartime romance you might like Guernica
If you like a long-drawn out wartime romance you might like A Town Like Alice
If you like reading about life under occupation you might like The Moon Is Down
Set in the not-too-distant future, this controversial dystopian novel is the story of Alex, an ultra-violent teen. Deeper than that, it’s about free will and the desire to do good or evil. The book is narrated in the first person and as such we see the world through Alex’s mind. This can initially be difficult due to the invented language used throughout (nadsat) though, as far as I’m aware, every copy comes with a glossary.
Alex and his droogs (friends) delight in violence. It’s not entirely their fault, it’s the culture of the time. The novel begins with a night of ultra-violence – drugs, robbery, battery, fights and rape. Following this, Alex goes home and listens to his beloved Beethoven. The following day follows much the same pattern, though in-fighting between the droogs leaves Alex stranded when the police arrive. SO, THAT’S THE END OF THE VIOLENCE YEAH?
What makes this different from other dystopian novels I’ve read is that it’s protagonist is female. Set in the near future, a totalitarian Christian government is in power meaning women have no rights anymore. Our narrator Offred (literally Of Fred) is kept as a handmaid, which mean basically her womb is used to breed. Her master Fred is married, but his wife is sterile, as are a huge chunk of the population. This is due to STDs and pollution and is the reason handmaids are kept. Fred is only supposed to have sex with Offred whilst his wife is present and there is no affection or relationship between them, Offred is a commodity. NICE PEOPLE, EH?