Friday Five: Books Read in July

 

Books read in July:

1. Quichotte by Salman Rushdie - Shortlisted for the 2019, Quichotte, is a breathtakingly sophisticated novel of postmodern genius, featuring a picaresque style and a desperately ordinary protagonist. Sam DuChamp is an Indian-born writer living in America, who has written a number of unsuccessful spy thrillers. Hoping to write a book "radically unlike any other he had ever attempted", he creates the character of Ismail Smile, a travelling pharmaceutical salesman. Having worked for unscrupulous companies and suffered a stroke in old age, Smile begins obsessively watching reality television and becomes infatuated with 'celebrity' and former Bollywood star, Salma R. Despite having never met her, Smile sends her love letters under the pen name of Quichotte and begins a quest for her across America with his imaginary son, Sancho. It is a spectacular piece of literary satire, which confounds simple synopses, as it is impossible to separate what is 'real' and what is not. That is clearly no accident in this post-truth society in which we find ourselves. 
2. The Opal Desert by Di Morrisey - Di Morrissey sets place extremely well. In her dozens of novels, the scenery and landscape are immediate and infinitely better drawn than her characters or plotlines. The Opal Desert is, unsurprisingly, set in Lightning Ridge, Broken Hill, Opal Lake, and White Cliffs, where most people are exceptionally friendly and we learn about the precious stones and the community who mine them. The three women around whom Morrissey tells her tale, Kerrie, Shirley and Anna, are all fairly predictable stereotypes who overcome their personal obstacles in life-affirming ways, which may not be realistic, but are heart-warming. Many people head to the opal fields for a change of pace, which is admirable. One character states, “We all need time out, as they say, on occasion. But that’s all it should be, a space between decisions. It becomes very easy to drift. You see it happen out here and before you know it, you’ve lost a great chunk of your productive life.” This begs the question, why must you be productive; what is the definition of produce – is it capitalist growth, and is that why Indigenous culture is ignored because it doesn’t visibly contribute to the GDP? What is wrong with “drifting”? Perhaps it has to do with the nature of Morrissey’s storytelling, in which all is tied up neatly at the end. It seems easy to get to be a curator, train for world athletic events or have an exhibition of paintings. Other character’s mysterious circumstances are cleared up in a page or two and everyone gets closure. This makes the people instantly forgettable (so much for recording their stories) but the landscape lingers in the mind.
3. Bewilderment by Richard Powers - Shortlisted for the 2021 Booker Prize, Bewilderment is a deeply moving and powerful novel, set in the near future. It concerns the degradation of the planet in tandem with a father's love for his neuro-divergent son. In an interview for the Booker Prize, Powers said, "It is, in part, a novel about the anxiety of family life on a damaged planet, and for that, I'm indebted to writers as varied as Margaret Atwood, Barbara Kingsolver, Evan Dara, Don Delillo, and Lauren Groff." It is a rich novel full of connections as, grieving for the loss of the wife and mother, the two embark on a camping trip in the wilderness to heal through nature. When they return to the 'real' world of work and school - competition, conformity and bullying - they are introduced to AI technology which can help connect to memories of others and suggest life in parallel universes. Some reviewers have considered it didactic and claustrophobic. Perhaps this is intentional as, if we continue to ignore the environmental portents, are we endangering our own species as the world closes in on us? 
4. Shit, Actually by Lindy West - Lindy West is a New York Times opinion writer and best-selling author who used to be the in-house movie critic for Seattle’s alternative newsweekly The Stranger – with a genuine adoration for nostalgic trash. In this humorous feminist revisionism re-evaluation of cult and classic films (re-watched during lock-down), she ranks all films against The Fugitive, which she thinks is the perfect film – Love Actually is the worst (why don’t any of the women actually talk?). Featuring rants, all-capital letters and italics, slang, swearing, and erratic punctuation, it reads like a teenager’s texts, complete with hashtags and initialisms such as YOLO and BTW. Other than Love Actually and Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (called Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone here), all the films are American blockbusters. As West writes, “I’m sorry but if there’s a British guy in a suit who talks in the first five minutes of your movie, he’s the villain! If it’s Tom Wilkinson, you’re fucked.”
5. Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus - I have read this for not one but two book clubs, for which it is the perfect fare. Although a brilliant chemist, Elizabeth Zott is not taken seriously because she is a woman in the 1950s and, “When it came to equality, 1952 was a real disappointment.” Because she is beautiful and intelligent, the only thing the men can think of to do with her is either mock her when she spurns their sexual advances, or suggest she present a cookery show. In scenes familiar from Julia Childs' biographies, Elizabeth teaches women about self-worth as much as cooking. She focusses on the chemical aspects of cooking as she continues to refute social norms and expectations. There are some tough, hard-hitting moments, but it feels overall uplifting, and the bright primary colour scheme of the mid-century domestic sphere will look enchanting on the small screen in the inevitable TV adaptation. As she defends the importance and influence of women, Elizabeth points out, "Chemistry is inseparable from life – by its very definition, chemistry is life. But like your pie, life requires a strong base. In your home, you are that base. It is an enormous responsibility, the most undervalued job in the world that, nonetheless, holds everything together.” 
6. After Sappho by Selby Wynn Schwartz - Mostly what we have of Sappho’s work is of fragments of writing, and this novel emulates that style with short vignettes that feel like excerpts of longer works, all relating to great female creative artists; their work, loves and lives. They work together even if they have never met in a style of sisterhood. It includes snippets of laws passed against women and miniature biographies, which lead to further exploration. Men have been cut from the stories, as women have historically been, and their absence is no great loss, as they have dominated the narrative for too long. As the author writes, “What was a man’s life but the inalienable right to verbs of action? What might Vita [Sackville-West] have become, given the transitive and a pair of sturdy boots?”

You Keep It All In: A Clear Conscience

A Clear Conscience by Frances Fyfield

Corgi

Pp. 284

Helen West is a prosecutor in domestic violence cases, and this is her fifth outing in novels by Frances Fyfield, although that is not obviously apparent from this edition. The fast-paced and bleak thriller is set in the world of back-street boozers, wife abusers, ex-boxers, and knock-off perfume. The crime is both petty and serious, as passion erupts into fights over office romance and much darker offences. The characters are criminals, cleaners, bar staff, ex-army personnel, lawyers, policemen and caseworkers.

The writing style is almost breathless, and grammar seems optional as the prose gathers pace along with the narrative. The author constantly switches point of view so it appears to be third-person omniscient but we are always in the mind of the subject, blurring the lines between reality and perception. Helen’s friend Emily employs Cath as a cleaner; Cath’s brother Damien is the murder victim of a case investigated by Bailey, Helen’s partner; Damien was killed after a night at the pub where Joe, Cath’s abusive husband works. There are no easy answers or definitive source of truth; law and justice are explicitly not the same thing.

Everyone lies to a certain extent, and no one tells the whole truth to anyone, even themselves. “We are all at cross purposes, he thought, every one of us a little mad, each of us with a piece of puzzle in our hands, while the truth floats up there like that big, black raincloud.” In an attempt to feel better about one’s self-image, characters believe their own narrative and don’t examine their motives too closely. Helen is obsessed with home decorating, Cath smells of bleach, Emily dismisses Cath for suspected theft of perfume – the interior renovation metaphor alludes to the patina of gloss that covers cracks but doesn’t mend them. Perfume serves a similar masking purpose. “What a terrible gift was perfume, always given by a man to make you wear it and please him, while you stank of blackmail.”

Written in 1994, the novel has an end-of-the-century feminism feel as the author questions women’s roles and their need to validate themselves in society. Helen claims to be determinedly independent and happily childfree. “I’d hate to be a megalomaniac wife and mother. Mothers run a closed book. They shut the world out, close off anything inconvenient, as if being mum in charge of a family is so self-satisfying, so sanctifying, they never need have a conscience about anything else.” And yet, she is yearning for something intangible. “It was useless pretending she was not influenced by what she saw and read; she was not immune to the contagion of the romantic or the desire for security purveyed by mothers and magazines…but she did not quite know how to not want it either, or how to close her ears to the blandishments of marriage propaganda.”

Although short and sharp, this is an oppressive novel in which women are struggling to stand alone without being defined by men – partners; bosses; social constructs. There is a menacing tone and a fear that they will never be enough – but by whose standards? It reminds me of that playground 'joke', Q: Why do women wear make-up and perfume? A: Because they're ugly and they smell. They are not and they do not, but our patriarchal capitalist society has a vested interest in making them think thus.

Friday Five: More TV

I haven't done this for a while, which means there is a whole lot to catch up on. So without further ado...

Five TV Shows I've Watched Since the Last Time I Did This, in Alphabetical Order:

1. Death in Paradise (ABC iView, BINGE, Foxtel) - I love this utterly preposterous series. It is total comfort TV, of the 'cosy murders' trope, and I, along with many others I'm sure, binge-watched it through COVID lockdowns. There are limited characters on a small Caribbean island and a murder an episode (there are twelve seasons, with another two in the works) doesn't stop the visitors piling in. Mind you, as an actor, it would be hard to say no to a two-week stint in a tropical paradise. In a Calypso-Christie homage the half dozen or so suspects are rounded up at the end of each episode where the seemingly impossible crime is explained and the perpetrator is led away with a shake of the head and a sorrowful expression. And it all begins again next week. The detectives change every few seasons - we started with Ben Miller in 2011, through Kris Marshall (2014-2017), Ardal O'Hanlon (2017-2020) and latest incumbent Ralph Little (2020-current) - as do their sergeants and other officers. The two characters who have remained throughout are the bar/ restaurant owner Catherine Bordey, played by Elizabeth Bourgine, and the highlight of the show, Police Commissioner Selwyn Patterson played by the inimitable Don Warrington. There's also a CGI lizard called Harry, who has his own fan-following. Yes, it's that kind of show.
2. Fisk, Season Two (ABC iView, Netflix) - This has more of the same gloriously understated humour that was so enjoyable in the first season. Kitty Flanagan continues to write, direct and star as the not-quite-so-flash lawyer, dealing with obnoxious workmates and an overbearing father, This time round guest cameos come from Denise Scott, Harley Breen, Stephen Curry, Geraldine Hickey, Glenn Robins, Anne Edmonds, Rob Sitch, and Colin Lane, amongst others. Entertaining half-hour-long episodes make for perfect mid-evening viewing.
3. The Good Fight, Season 6 (SBS VICELAND, SBS On Demand, Stan, Paramount +) - If you want proof that the U.S. can do sharp, surreal, political, satire, look no further than The Good Fight. The final season sees the lawyers of Reddick & Associates trying and failing to ignore the collapse of their society, where white supremacists gather around the building, bombs are intermittently exploded, and Diane Lockhart (Christine Baranski) undergoes therapy with the bloke from Madman (John Slattery). She is prescribed a mild hallucinogen which helps her to see the funny side of barely futuristic news headlines in an only slightly altered reality. There are in-house leadership struggles, snappy suits and even-snappier spectacles, power plays and explorations of moral values which border on Boston Legal territory but without the obvious schmaltz. Charmaine Bingwa as Carmen Moyo is a great replacement for the much-missed Cush Jumbo as the up-and-coming focus character, while Marissa (Sarah Steele) and Jay (Nyambi Nyambi) continue their eye-on-the-ball down-with-the-kids schtick.

4. Mare of Easttown (HBO; Foxtel) - Kate Winslet won an Emmy Award for Outstanding Leading Actress as Mare Sheehan in a fine example of the 'going over there and taking their jobs' phenomenon as she plays a detective investigating a murder in a small town outside Philadelphia. She vapes, fights with her 'mom' and struggles to raise her daughter while doing her job with as much integrity as she can muster. The series won critical acclaim for its honest portrayal of women desperately trying to balance work and care duties. While failing to live up to societal standards of a good wife, mother, daughter and employee, she actually excels at all of the above to all who matter, and winds up exhausted and under-recognised. Despite multiple awards (Hollywood Critics Association; Primetime Emmy; Golden Globes: Critics Choice; Screen Actors' Guild; Writers' Guild) and box-office smashes (highest viewership for a linear series and one of only two series to see consecutive growth week-to-week for HBO), it still hasn't been commissioned for a second series. Maybe the predominantly male executive producers are still not ready to see women be real women. 
5. This is Going to Hurt (BBC & AMC) - In this stellar adaptation of Adam Kay's best-selling breakthrough memoir, Ben Wishaw and Ambika Mod epitomise the highs and lows of the medical profession, presenting their stories with comedic and dramatic tones. As junior doctors on an obstetrics and gynaecology ward in a National Health Service hospital, they work through the ranks of hospital hierarchy, breaking the fourth wall and addressing viewers directly with dialogue. Apparently you can save people's lives, have babies named after you, provide an exceptionally high level of care in agonisingly difficult circumstances, and be reviled, underpaid, underappreciated and criminalised at the same time. And sleep-deprived. Don't ever forget sleep-deprived. While I don't understand why anyone would undertake the ludicrously difficult position of Junior Doctor, I am forever grateful that there are people who do. And Nigel Lockhart, the Chief Consultant (played with scene-stealing panache by Alex Jennings) is an absolute c*nt.

Gardeners' Sexist Time: Mr. Macgregor

Mr. Macgregor by Alan Titchmarsh

Pocket Books

Pp. 341

English gardener, broadcaster, TV presenter, poet and journalist, Alan Titchmarsh, has written a novel. Sticking to the advice of ‘write what you know’, he has set it in the glamorous world of TV gardening shows, and the stereotypical gender roles of the 1980s. Apparently gardeners are sexy these days and a valued staple of any TV station’s talent. From the lights of the studio to the marquees of the Chelsea Flower Show, it’s full of bitchy gay presenters, man-eating female news reporters and division of women into the categories of young, attractive and nubile or old, fat and ugly. There are plenty of adjectives, and a couple of jokes, but none of them are original. According to a quote on the jacket, Jilly Cooper found it ‘absolutely charming... made me understand a lot more about men.’ I sincerely hope not.

Rob MacGregor becomes TV’s latest sex symbol, which alienates quite a few people, including the expert he replaces and his girlfriend, an investigative journalist. We don’t learn a lot about her. Women are invariably described by their appearance and how it fits the male gaze. “Miss Menopause. No one’s ever seen her legs. Greenhouse expert at that difficult time of life.” “Hair the colour of marmalade and the face of a Welsh cob.” “Monstrous limbs he gazed upon now, which made the Michelin man look anorexic.” The socially-acceptable attractive women don’t fare any better, and pretending to be writing from the character’s point of view does not excuse the crude and leering sexism, not least because we learn way more about a character’s appearance than their actual character. “The neatly tailored matching jacket was open wide enough for Frank’s all-invading eyes to notice that underneath her ribbed turtle-necked sweater was a perfect pair of breasts.”

Class distinctions are also broad and satirised at the most basic level. Roofing contractors obviously have “an East London accent, with more than a hint of the cowboy about it”. The cheerful cleaning lady drops her aitches as she muddles her metaphors. The speech of these characters is rendered phonetically, while all other accents are unremarked upon.

Everything is as expected and the plot is totally predictable. Reviewers on Goodreads have described it as a light and comfortable holiday book in which very little happens. Add twee and sexist to the description and that just about sums it up.

Friday Five: Next on Stage

1. At Dinner - ACT Hub Development Initiative, ACT Hub: In this new piece of writing by Rebecca Duke, we witness a date between two diners (Thea Jade and Timothy Cusack) and their interaction with the third actor (Nakiya Xyrakis), a server in the restaurant. The audience, served by the waiter and given a program in the form of a menu, are included as patrons into the proceedings. Director, Holly Johnson allows the words to do most of the action, in a simple setting where the actors barely move from their seated position. It is a credit to all involved that this retains audience interest despite the static set-up.
2. White Rabbit, Red Rabbit - Aurora Nova and Lexi Sekuless Productions, Mill Theatre: The main stipulation for this play, written by Nassim Soleimanpour, is that the performer has never seen it before. It has no director and no rehearsal period. When the actor enters the space, the script is on a chair in a sealed envelope. They must open this envelope and read the contents, including all the stage directions, aloud to the audience. They must carry out the instructions as an actor but also as a human being - even if those instructions may cause themselves risk or potential harm. The audience is forced to be complicit in this dramatic manipulation. It also works better if the audience has not seen it before so is literally on the same page as the actor as they experience the twists and turns of the script. I admit I have seen it before (it was staged at The Street in 2014), where I had such a visceral negative reaction to the piece, I wanted to walk out of the theatre. This time around, I had no such response. The shock value was absent and without that, no matter how good PJ Williams is (and he is certainly engaging and guides the audience through the content like a kindly shepherd), it lacks the necessary punch and just seems mean-spirited. 
3. Julia - Sydney Theatre Company and Canberra Theatre Centre, The Playhouse, Canberra Theatre Centre: Apparently the Canberra Theatre Centre had to fight to get this premiere by Joanna Murray-Smith, and their efforts are well rewarded. Justine Clarke plays Julia Gillard in an almost one-woman play as she revisits scenes from her personal life and political career. It's not an impression so much as an embodiment, hitting the highs (successfully passing 561 bills through parliament) and lows (the oppositional slurs and sexism) with strength and perfect emphasis. Aided by well-chosen projections, director, Sarah Goodes teases out all the subtlety behind the speeches and the meaning behind the memorable moments. Of course it all leads up to that anti-misogyny speech which brings this house to its feet with justified applause. 
4. Holding the Man - Everyman Theatre, ACT Hub: This is a touching play dealing with coming-of-age, coming out, and the effect the AIDS pandemic had on the gay community in the 1980s. First produced in 2006 based on a memoir published in 1995, it is entirely of its time, and exactly the worthy drama one would expect Jarrad West to direct for Everyman Theatre. There are a few issues with sight lines, the staging is basic and there are moments that drag (the masturbation scene was obviously more fun in rehearsal, and the mockery of the NIDA students dips into one-note caricature), but the central couple played by Joel Horwood (Tim Conigrave) and Lewis McDonald (John Caleo) are outstanding and push all the right buttons of awkwardness, arrogance and anguish. The supporting cast (Amy Kowalzcuk, Joe Dinn, Grayson Woodham, Tracy Noble) are kept very busy playing multiple roles with effective delineation that bring out all the requisite emotion and leaves the audience in no doubt that they have seen something beautiful unfold before them. 
5. The Thing That's Missing - Perform Australia, Mill Theatre: Written by Elizabeth Avery Scott and directed by her partner, James Scott, this play features the advanced Diploma of Performance students from their acting school, Perform Australia. The four young people (Annie Nogaliza, Bronte Thomson, Mikkie Martinez, and Isaac Travers) have had something taken away from them, which ranges from the minor insignificance to the crucial piece of their humane puzzle. Each of the four actors tells their story before clearing the stage for the next vignette, until they end up together in their flat-share situation to offer companionship to each other and support their loss. There are moments of humour and some sharp dialogue to offset the well-meaning but overly earnest content. 

Fine Print: Terms & Conditions

Terms and Conditions by Robert Glancy

Bloomsbury

Pp. 258

Waking up after a car accident with amnesia, Frank starts to piece together his memories only to recall that he doesn’t like his job, his wife (Alice), his brother (Oscar) or even himself very much. As a business lawyer who specialises in terms and conditions, he reminds us with wry humour that it’s always important to check the fine print in this enjoyable novel celebrating decency and standing up to the man.

The framework (chapters and their content) is written in the style of a legal contract, with plenty of footnotes to convey the difference between what the narrator voices and his private thoughts. For example, the final chapter has a subclause, “The terms and conditions of endings: More often than not, they’re badly disguised beginnings.” The novel is fast-paced, funny and engaging; the exact opposite of contractual terms and conditions.

Frank recalls the beginning of his relationship with Alice. He was a straight-A student at university who loved taking tests because they “made me feel as if I was accomplishing things”, whereas she was a free spirit; daring, compulsive and everything he thought he wasn’t.  Frank takes tests that Alice sets for him – sample tests which she puts into a book making him seem like a loser. The book is called Executive X and is a psychometric book about how to hire the right person for the job, by proving who the wrong person for the job is: Frank.  “It was in that period of the late nineties, before the crash, when there was money everywhere. A time when no one was sure why it was working or who was responsible – until, that is, management consultants were credited with the world’s runaway success.”

When Frank notices how far he and Lisa have drifted apart and how much she is humiliating him, he believes he may be partially to blame. Guilt has power and is a force that “will hold together the most opposing forces of the universe”, such as him and his wife. When he considers his options, one of them is revenge killing, “But I’m British. So shooting people wasn’t an option. I wouldn’t know where to get a gun if my life depended on it. As for allowing my rage to trigger a crime passionnel, well, let’s be honest, that’s far too hot and European for my cold Anglo blood.”

Frank is depressed and feels lonely, but he does have some people on his side – a wonderful older woman called Molly, his younger brother, Malcolm, who sends cryptic messages from wherever he happens to be, and an old colleague and friend of his father’s, Doug. Fittingly, Frank is saved by the prenuptial agreement his father insisted that he and Alice sign. He isn’t necessarily happy at the end of the novel, but he is vindicated as he is rescued by the terms and conditions that he creates and, over time, ingeniously adds to contracts, knowing that no one reads them but that they are legally binding.

This is a fun and fast-paced novel which doesn’t take itself too seriously, and has a satisfying ending for the likeable characters, and a suitable come-uppance for the others.

Friday Five: Vermouth

 

Before we went to Barcelona, we read our Lonely Planet guide thoroughly, and were particularly taken with this nugget;

"Having become a favourite of Barcelona's working class in the run-up to the civil war, vermouth then fell out of favour (though certainly didn't disappear), but has experienced a dazzling revival over the last decade. New vermouth bars are opening all over town; historical vermouth joints are more popular than ever; and creative artisan varieties are on the up. Join the barcelonins for la hora del vermut (the hour of vermouth), typically around noon."

So it seemed appropriate to have our very first vermouth in Barcelona at the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya, after having seen a spectacular amount of local art. Based on red or white wine, vermouth is infused with botanicals and fortified with brandy. It is thought to have arrived in Catalonia in the mid-19th century.

Bar Calders is described as "unbeatable as an all-day cafe, tapas, wine and vermouth bar; the outdoor tables are the go-to meeting point for Saint Antoni's boho set." We are also reliably informed that "vermouth is always accompanied by snacks such as tapas of croquettes, anchovies, patates braves or even crisps". Or, as it happens, this cheesy number. 

At Port Vell we sat on the verandah at Sagardi on Pier 1, watching the super yachts and for a few seconds seating in prime real estate imagining we could hitch a ride on one of them. This was a very swanky restaurant and I don't think we were welcome to sit inside as we were wearing shorts and t-shirts but I reckon Him Outdoors looked the part in his holiday hat. The guide book informs us that "perfect vermouth is usually served over ice and with an olive or two, and sometimes, a slice of orange". (Or, in this case, lemon.)

My favourite piece of vermouth lore is that "the hour of vermouth is as much about the intimate social scene as the drink itself". Nowhere was more intimate than this gorgeous wee bar, La Vermuteria del Tano, where the barkeep chatted to her friend, who translated for us, there were trays of olives and the vermouth was kept in a safe.