The Shepherd’s Life (James Rebanks): I finished reading this wonderful book on New Year’s Day and, already, I confidently predict that it will be my ‘Book of the Year 2021’! Rebanks’ family have been sheep farmers in the fells of the Lake District for several generations and this is a book about his love and pride for the land he farms; for his family; for the knowledge that has been passed down to him (and that he, in turn, will pass on to others); for the way of life (and duty, obligation, continuity, respect…). Rebanks left school at 16 with no GCSEs and unable to write in longhand(!)(all he ever wanted to do was to be a shepherd like the grandfather he worshipped), but he was clearly bright. When he was 21, he decided to go to evening classes to study A levels (his younger sisters were both ‘A grade’ students at school)… and is clearly something of a star pupil… and then to my enormous surprise (half way through the book) he applies and gets into Oxford University! But looking after sheep is his passion and, throughout his degree, he returns home as often as possible to help with the needs of the farm. Since Oxford (thanks to the internet), he’s managed to fit in the farm around another professional life to help earn a living (eg. ‘expert adviser’ to UNESCO). I was utterly captivated by his story and the descriptions of his shepherd’s life on the Fells… and how, as a schoolboy, he remembers listening to a teacher who, in his view, completely failed to understand that “we, our fathers and mothers, might be proud, hard-working and intelligent people doing something worthwhile, or even admirable…”. Part way through reading it, I talked to Moira about my love of the book… and, somewhat ridiculously, found myself welling up when I tried to recount the story (yes, I do cry very easily these days!!). It’s a truly remarkable, evocative (and beautifully-written) book – or, as one of the book’s reviewers remarked: “This book makes you feel glad to be alive”… and another: “Bloody marvellous”.
The Crossway (Guy Stagg): This is our next Bloke’s Bookgroup book. It describes the author’s pilgrimage from Canterbury to Jerusalem in 2013 (involving some 5,500km and 10 months on the road). The impetus/reasons for setting out were pretty hazy (he wasn’t a ‘man of faith’; aged 23, he’d had a nervous breakdown and tried to take his own life). He tried the London to Canterbury route once taken by Chaucer’s pilgrims... and things sort of escalated from there! In some ways, it seems, he was trying to ‘mend himself’. The book is an account of his travels (relying, in the main, on charity and the kindness of others – people giving him shelter at the end of a day’s walking in monasteries, chapels, convents and church halls that lined the route or in family homes). It very much reminded me of Patrick Leigh Fermor’s travels of the mid-1930s (as described in ‘A Time of Gifts’ etc). It’s an incredibly brave, honest account of his emotions and his experiences (and it’s beautifully-written). There is no road-to-Damascus revelation en route… but what does become clear is that it’s not all about the final destination, but about the journey itself. Hugely thought-provoking.
Snow Country (Yasunari Kawabata): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup book (we have an ‘Asian’ theme). This is short novel published in 1956 (although written in 1935) is considered a ‘classic work’ of Japanese literature. It’s essentially tale of a love affair between a rich, married man (with children) from Tokyo, who inherited his wealth, and a self-professed ballet expert) and a provincial geisha… and set in a remote hot spring town in the mountains on Japan’s west coast. The language is lyrical and the sentences are short - but there were times when I struggled with the writer’s style (or perhaps the quality of translation or of Japan in the 1930s?) and would have welcomed a brief education in the nuances of geisha conventions, Japanese culture and traditions! I found the status of the women depicted quite depressing (I came across this quote from one reviewer: “As patron of a geisha nothing is required of him”). The plot is far less important than the relationship between the two key individuals (which is complicated). The man is a strangely detached character - enamoured by the woman but also rather distant from her; she is constrained by the conventions surrounding the role of a geisha, but with a passionate nature that refuses to be subsumed. It breaks out in behaviour that changes direction every few minutes. It’s a melancholic tale – set against a starkly beautiful landscape - with an undercurrent of foreboding throughout. I found it impressive, compelling and unsettling, but I’m still trying to work out if I enjoyed it (fortunately, because the book is relatively short, I’ll endeavour to re-read it before our next bookgroup meeting).
Let Us Dream: The Path To A Better Future (Pope Francis): I was inspired to buy this book after my good friend Johnny quoted from it on facebook. It’s written in the light of the Covid crisis and explores what the crisis can teach us about handling such upheavals. It’s an impressive, candid critique of the systems and ideologies that have conspired to produce the current crisis – in the words of flysheet – “from a global economy obsessed with profit and heedless of the people and the environment it harms to politicians who foment their people’s fear and use that to increase their own power at their people’s expense”. I was particularly impressed that, unlike some governments (no names!), the Pope was quick to take action. Just after Easter 2020 (shortly after the world was just beginning to come to terms with the potential scale of the crisis), the Pope appointed a commission to consult with experts across the world on the post-Covid future. It’s an impressive book and provides some inspiring words: “To come out of this crisis better, we have to see clearly, choose well and act right”… “we must redesign the economy so that it can offer every person access to a dignified existence while protecting and regenerating the natural world”. The Pope is highly critical of ‘populist politics’ (and also makes reference to the “narcissism” of certain politicians)(Mr Trump is never mentioned by name but, clearly, his particular style of politics is one that the Pope doesn’t favour!). On the other hand, the Pope enthusiastically endorses examples of the leading role of women (eg. “countries with female leaders have on the whole reacted better and more quickly than others”). I found the book pretty inspiring – wise, encouraging and spiritual. He’s a very impressive man.
Shuggie Bain (Douglas Stewart): This is the author’s first novel… and it won the 2020 Booker Prize (and, having now read it, deservedly so)! It’s a heartbreaking story of poverty, addiction and childhood suffering. Shuggie Bain is the youngest of three children growing up in the Glasgow of the early 1980s, trapped in mining town decimated by Thatcherism (the story spans the period 1981-92; Shuggie is just five when we pick up the tale). Their philandering father has upped and left and their mother, Agnes, increasingly turns to alcohol for comfort. The children try their best to save her but, gradually, one by one they abandon her to save themselves. The author is speaking from experience – he himself was raised in the chaotic childhood of poverty and addiction. It’s shockingly brutal and stark… it’s difficult to read and yet utterly compelling. This is a world for which ‘sexual consent’ has no meaning… or, as the Guardian review puts it: “men do what they do and women and boys like it or lump it”. The daughter leaves home first and the remaining boys “learn to undress Agnes after a night out, to look away from her bruised thighs and gouged breasts, to catch vomit and wipe bile”. Moving, funny, tender and incredibly real.
