A different story every two hours

There are several David Mitchells. One David Mitchell has lived in several countries. This David Mitchell has written several stories. One of these stories includes 6 other stories which used to be 7 and probably started out as seventy short stories. Several of the 6 stories in this book make reference to other stories he has written. Welcome to the bewildering world(s) of The Bone Clocks - a beautiful metaphor for our bodies' transformation over time.
They made a successful film of the unfilmable Cloud Atlas with Tom Hanks and Halle Berry. In many ways the narrative running through The Bone Clocks is more consistent and less confusing but Mitchell certainly packs a lot of invention, characters and different scenarios in which gives his books an epic multi-generational feel. My only reservation is that the strength of reader engagement wanes towards the end of the story which is the opposite to most reading experiences. Normally the reader starts out fairly neutral and then gets drawn into the story more avidly towards the resolution of the plot. With David Mitchell's books I've found that I think he is the best writer ever from the get go to about a third in to the book but the engagement declines as the initial characters and stories are resolved and new ones, or reincarnations, continually emerge and it starts to read like a collection of short stories. But maybe that's just my fault for reading last thing at night when I'm fatigued anyway and unable to enjoy making all the connections between different characters and story lines. After all that's what the fans of much more straightforward comic and film franchises enjoy.

Liars

I'd be lying if I gave the impression that I enjoyed every book I read. I quite often sample something just to get out of well worn literary tracks or genres. This can take me into the commercial mainstream and, in this case, to the young adult fiction of E. Lockhart's We Were Liars. So I admit freely I'm not in the target audience but I figure a good book is a good book. Isn't it?

The book hype would have you believe this is not only a good book but an extremely clever book. Shame that the target audience has the attention span of the proverbial gnat as most chapters are about two pages long and don't give any time to really give any narrative or get engaged with the 'rich kid' characters. Even the physical layout of where the action takes place and the family relationships have to be spelt out in pictures at the beginning of the book.

Whilst I'm in moan mode the other thing that bugs me about trying to do a book blog is having to select pictures that can be reproduced without copyright. The publishers are so protective of their property that this normally stops anyone giving them free advertising by showing the book graphics or even the author's mugshot. This can result in some creative lateral thinking to select an image. Not this time. E Lockhart is the pen name of Emily Jenkins.

Le Liseur propose à préposé

The blurb on Jean-Paul Didierlaurent's The Reader on the 6.27 suggests that it is similar in look and feel to the film Amélie. There is innocence and simplicity in the story but not quite the level of subversive personal charm that she possesses. The Reader is more of a narrator than a romantic agent provocateur and the sense of humour is often similarly black but rather more visceral and, on occasion, toilet based. Only the names (like the fact that the main character's name resembles 'ugly puppet') gets a little lost in translation as it has to be pointed out. A joke explained is killed but otherwise it is an amusing and refreshingly skewed view of fragmentary life experiences.

The book is, naturally enough, in praise of reading books but, more unusually, it is also about the potential social bonding that a shared experience of literature can bring. It challenges the normal behaviour on a train where people typically use books or electronic devices to separate themselves from each other and from reality. The book is quite slim - you could just about read it on a long journey - and if you want something to read on a train you could do worse than read this (aloud ideally).

Walking, thinking, writing, rhyming (sometimes)

Poets have a hard time making money. They can give readings, talks, teach, translate or write other stuff. Simon Armitage tried his hand at being a troubadour: a strolling player earning his passage from the generosity of his audience. It was an interesting experiment in striding through the ages as well as the Pennines. With Walking Away, his sequel to Walking Home, he chose the South West Coast Path. I'm not sure the financial jeopardy is sustained as he meets a lot of people who are prepared to tolerate and feed him. Unfortunately I don't think the landscape inspired him as much as it might during the tougher legs but I do know one thing. A poet writes prose beautifully and I can also recommend Armitage as a personable companion who has an eye for acerbic and amusing analysis of the people he meets. All travelogues should be written by poets.

Germany Calling

It seemed like a good time to learn more about European culture in the aftershock of Brexit (and that messy illiterate abbreviated concatenation tells you all you need to know about the level of reasoned argument). The UK may have waved goodbye to the German Christmas market but not to the things we share. Sausages and beer, oak forests, grown up fairy tales, technical efficiency, emotional reserve and, by and large, modesty. Some of us, after all, are Angles and Saxons and they also gave us a bunch of Royals. Yes ...whisper it...we are "immigrants". We sit in the European sandwich between the northern Viking raiders and the Roman Empire - so you can add Scandinavian and Mediterranean into the mix before you even get to Empire and the rest of the global community. Let's face it we all came out of Africa in the first place so what's all the fuss about?
Neil MacGregor's book Germany - Memories of a Nation is a fascinating read because he has the ability to tell the story of a culture through selective objects. Simon Schama has done something similar before and I heartily recommend his writing about the role of the Forest in the German psyche. MacGregor now works in Berlin (under the freedom of work movement we currently enjoy) and shares Schama's advantage of being an involved outsider. He can pick up the collective embarrassment of conquest by France, the abomination of Hitler and the hurt of a society Walled up against itself with a neutral approach. Interestingly Germany has also tried to take this analytical and dispassionate approach to its past and to learn lessons from it's history and culture. This is why Merkel opened her borders to refugees; without panic but without illusions as to the challenges that would bring.

Number 11 marks out of Number 10

Jonathan Coe was worried that the timing was not great for the release of his latest novel Number 11 because one of his heroes, Umberto Eco, was unleashing a satire on finance and politics at the same time called Numero Zero.

Coe's surname may be an anagramatic echo of Umberto's but I don't think the two clash in any way. On its own merits Number 11 is Coe's best and, of course, eleventh novel to date. It's also a sort of follow up to What a Carve Up! which is one of his most enjoyable novels. I prefer The Rotters' Club personally - for musical and nostalgic reasons but they're all pretty good.

This one also has a musical reference: Louise Le May's Sink or Swim from her recent and delicately beautiful album A Tale Untold which is appropriated to play a role for a talented singer who perhaps hasn't had the exposure and fame she deserves. Fiction imitating reality there. A tale untold told.

Coe has a sure touch with caricature but also with well rounded characters, particularly the young women in this story, who are completely engaging as we follow their lives, careers and experiences. The backdrop is a wry and amusing swipe at modern life and politics - not just British as the malaise and absurdities here translate widely, you just need to change the names. As an added bonus you also get a twist. I won't spoil it here but I'm not talking about a plot twist, I'm talking about a genre twist. Highly unexpected and enjoyable.

A Recycling of Witches

They, whoever 'they' are, say you should write about what you know. Deborah Harkness is an American academic who has studied European History including some of its more arcane and occult babblings. She has also written a trilogy (for starters) of novels, of which the first is A Discovery of Witches, themed on a young woman who is studying at University and falls in love with a vampire. This is not really my bag. I'm not part of the demographic for this target audience. But I like to make my own discoveries...and it was a free ebook. After a tedious start, which I recognise as the authors need to display their research, the story romps along enjoyably. The only bit I resented was the Trilogy format which meant that the book really ended 3/4 of the way through and the rest is setting up the second book. The trend of designing the writing structure for TV and film adaptation is inevitable but very frustrating for a reader like myself who will never be a devotee of the box set for this particular brand.