march-april 2022 books…

The Village Of Eight Graves (Seishi Yokomizo): This was my third Yokomizo murder mystery (first published in 1971)… and probably my favourite of the three. As always, the plot is quite complicated (but clever and intriguing) – with more murders than ‘Midsomer Murders’ – and involves a young man arriving in hamlet nestling in the mountains of Japan (named ‘Eight Graves’ after a centuries-old massacre) to claim a mysterious inheritance. There are a series of gruesome poisonings but, with the help of the famous Kosuke Kindaichi (the book’s equivalent of Christie’s Poirot), the mystery is eventually solved (despite all the various red herrings and dubious alibis. It’s typical, classic, crime fiction with all the dots duly joined up by way of explanation at the end of the book.
Clothes, Clothes, Clothes… (Viv Albertine): This was Albertine’s first book (published in 2014). I’d previously read her follow-up ‘To Throw Away Unopened’ (published in 2018) and had been vaguely familiar with the punk band “The Slits” and, by association, knew that Viv Albertine had been a guitarist in the band. She’s a really excellent writer (and I heard her at a book launch 3 years ago and was very impressed). As the title suggests, this memoir is about her ‘obsession’ (my description) about clothes, music and boys. From a poor, working-class background and largely brought up by her mother, the book is a breathtakingly honest, often quite shocking story about her life in the band, her subsequent health and family struggles and her re-connection with music in her mid-fifties. She describes herself as being somewhat shy (I’m not sure I’d agree – ‘bossy and selfish’ might be closer to the mark?). She’s certainly a determined, rebellious, uncompromising woman (we wouldn’t have ‘got on’!). Nevertheless, the book is incredibly readable and entertaining (400+ pages which I read in 3 days).
A Black Boy At Eton (Dillibe Onyeama): The book was first published in 1972 and re-published, fifty years later, after being selected by Bernardine Evaristo as one of a series of ‘rediscovered’ books about Black Britain. Nigerian Onyeama (son of a Supreme Court Judge) is a couple of years younger than me, but interesting nevertheless to compare our respective school experiences – not that Handsworth Grammar quite compares with Eton!). In 1969, he became the first black person to finish their studies at Eton College. He wrote the book about his experiences of racism at Eton, “Nigger at Eton” (but subsequently re-titled). It’s a shocking story of the cruel racial prejudice and racism he endured during his time at the school. It’s a very frank book - frequently exposing his own inappropriate behaviour on occasions – written, in my view, in a style of awkward formality (and reflecting a somewhat naïve attitude to life and, in Evaristo’s words, “still maturing into adulthood”). By his own admission, he wasn’t a particularly impressive pupil (arrogant and a self-confessed snob)(probably a common Etonian trait!); he was unpopular with many of his fellow students and taunted/verbally abused by many of them; he comes across as someone who was self-centred, insensitive and unaware of how his own actions and comments might be interpreted; he was also not averse to using violence against his aggressors. Despite its occasional humour, it’s a dehumanising and shameful book - reflecting much of the sickening colour prejudice of the time in society (much of which sadly continues today).
Being Mortal (Atul Gawande): This is a book about what it’s like to get old and die and how we manage our mortality… and I thought it was rather wonderful. It might seem a little morbid reading about such a subject, but this eloquent, moving book is something of a manifesto that could radically improve the lives of the aged and the terminally ill. Gawande is a surgeon and a professor at Harvard Medical School and the book includes accounts of a number of people’s ‘last days’. It opens a door to discussions with close relatives about how people wish to spend their final days – not necessarily about extending life, but more about living with dignity and joy until the end of it (ie. not so much a medical problem but a human one). It’s beautifully and engagingly written and I highly recommend it.
Grey Bees (Andrey Kurkov): This is our Storysmith bookgroup’s next book and to say that it’s pertinent to what’s going in Ukraine at the present time would be something of an understatement! First published in 2018, the book relates to “Putin’s failed attempt to tear Ukraine away from Europe” (Kurkov describes in the book’s Foreword) in 2013 – although Russia did manage to capture the Ukrainian peninsula of Crimea in 2014 and also sent officers and activists to the south and east Ukraine. The strip of land between the resulting front line between Ukrainian troops and pro-Russian separatists is referred to as the “grey zone”. Most of the inhabitants have left this zone but, here and there, some stubborn residents refused to budge. This novel is the story of the only two villagers who remain: a 49 year-old, retired safety inspector turned beekeeper and an old ‘enemy’ from his schooldays. As spring approaches, under the ever-present threat of bombardment the beekeeper knows he needs to take his bees far from the Grey Zone so they can collect their pollen in peace. This ‘simple mission’ on their behalf introduces him to combatants and civilians on both sides of the battle lines - uncooperative border guards and officialdom, generous and/or suspicious civilians. The sense of war’s futility is one of the novel’s constant themes. He is brought into contact with two families, who represent other lives and other cultures, but whose kindness and consideration are touching. Despite the ever-present threat of bombardment, there’s a gentle, almost childlike simplicity to the book and to its main character that makes it an endearing read.