july-august 2019 books…

The Paper Moon (Andrea Camilleri): I’m trying to restrict my Montalbano reading to one book a month (in fact, I think I’ve only got one other book left on my bedside table after this)! I really love the stories – always clever, intriguing plots (set against a backdrop of Sicilian corruption, vendettas, sunshine, delicious food, beautiful women and humour) but also for Montalbano’s endearing, almost shambolic, attitude to his life as a crime-fighter. This story is set against a gruesome murder of a man (shot in the face from point-blank range), two evasive beautiful women, dirty cocaine and dead politicians. Montalbano is also plagued by self-doubt (is he getting too old for all this?). One of my favourite bits of the story was about him reflecting on (and deploring) the very idea of any policemen needed to make notes in order to solve crimes (he’s never done such a thing in his entire career) and, so, when he finds himself struggling to remember key details or take an overview of matters, decides to write himself a letter pointing out the particular pieces of evidence that he feels might prove useful to him! As ever, Stephen Sartarelli’s translation captures the essence of things perfectly.
A Shepherd’s Life (WH Hudson): First published in 1910, this book is essentially about one man… named Caleb Bawcombe, a shepherd, whose flocks grazed the Wiltshire, Hampshire and Dorset borders at the turn of the (19^th/20^th) century. And yet it’s also a story of poachers, gypsies, sheepdogs, farmers, landowners and labourers (with some accounts dating back to the 1830s from people Hudson spoke to who’d been inhabitants of the some of the villages during their childhoods. A magical, humble record of rural life in southern England from an age gone by – a time of deprivation, hunger and poverty (bringing up a large family on six shillings a week)… but also a time of few comforts, simple living and, of course, picturesque landscape. I really enjoyed this beautiful, gentle book.
Morning (Allan Jenkins): My lovely friend Mags recently gave me this book. The author, like me, is an early riser (and, unlike me, regularly does a little light gardening at 5am in soft light!). The book’s cover contains the following words from the author: “This is my manifesto for morning. There is an energy in the earlier hours, an awareness I enjoy. In today’s world we tend to wake as late as we can, timed to when we have to work. But we don’t need to chase the day”. The book, amongst other things, gives a monthly diary covering a whole year (with Jenkins’ own diary extracts)… the sounds, the routines, the observations, the reflections, the opportunities do stuff. He also ‘talks’ to a number of other early risers who are asked to reply to a standard set of questions. Not surprisingly, perhaps, they all talk incredibly positively about this magical, ‘bonus time’ of the day (in the same way I frequently find myself doing). A really beautiful, gentle and empowering book.
Under The Bright Wings (Peter Harris): Good friends of ours have a long-established association with A Rocha (an international network of environmental organisations with a Christian ethos) and are soon to depart Bristol to live and work in Nice for the organisation. Although I was very aware of A Rocha, I realised that I had only limited knowledge of the extent of their work. Peter Harris (then a curate on Merseyside) and his wife Miranda (and their three young children) set up the first A Rocha in the Algarve, Portugal in 1983/4. The book provides frank (and frequently funny) descriptions of their early days – struggling for finance, recognition, acceptance by the local community etc – as they sought to establish a community that was true both to their Christian beliefs and to their concern for the environment (very much harder in practice than theory). Clearly, an awful lot has changed since this book was first published (in 1993) and A Rocha is now an established worldwide organisation at the forefront of environmental projects and campaigns. They were clearly way ahead of their time. Fascinating and challenging. From small beginnings…
Go Ahead In The Rain (Hanif Abdurraqib): I don’t really get hip-hop or rap but have realised that, over the years, it’s become (or was?) an important, meaningful outlet for huge numbers of people… and so feel that I need to try to appreciate it more. Perhaps my other problem is that I frequently don’t understand, or even hear(!), the lyrics properly (some have actually described it as “mumble rap”). Having said that, I was hugely taken by Stormzy’s ‘set’ at Glastonbury this summer and his ability to communicate a wide range of issues and concerns through music (maybe it’s easier to ‘hear’ the message when you can actually watch the performers?). At the end of last year, I read a book about hip-hop band Wu-Tang Clan – which I found both fascinating and helpful. So, this book about the band called ‘A Tribe Called Quest’ (formed in 1985) is another attempt to educate myself musically (I’d seen the music journalist in The Guardian list the book as one of his top ten) – and it contains various cross-references between the two group. The author, Hanif Abdurraqib, is “an obsessive fan” who has followed the collective/band for 30 years and the book is a mix of autobiography, social history and slightly fanatical musical detail - although this also included references to Leonard Cohen+Marianne and also Cohen’s death coinciding with Trump’s election (Abdurraqib and I both despair about Trump!). I know some of the Tribe’s music and I like much of its jazzy, instrumental setting (blimey, that sounds SO pretentious doesn’t it!), but, frankly, I do struggle. I recall reading a couple of pages full of music references to other artists/bands/collectives and realising that I hadn’t heard of a single one of them! But, hey, the book’s very well-written and informative. The Tribe have been a hugely important part of Abdurraqib’s life and this book reflects this rather beautifully. I have to say that, by the end, he had won me over.