Skip to main content

Good sense is both the first principal and the parent source of good writing.


Pointing south. Bellerive boardwalk. October 2011.

Absolute Beginners by Colin MacInnes was written in 1958 and details the emergence of the ‘mod’ and explores uneasy race relations in inner-city London in the lead up to the swinging sixties.

I initially found it a frustrating read, as the (unnamed) teenage narrator speaks with a litany of (now-) clichéd slang and puns, but once I reminded myself that in many respects MacInnes is recording this language in print for the first time I decided to roll with it.

As such, it is an interesting snapshot of a very specific time and place, and the story rollicks along at a cracking pace to a decent conclusion. Recommended.

I will be frank and admit that I did not find the same thing with Women As Lovers by Elfriede Jelinek. In the novel, Jelinek – an Austrian novelist who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2004 (a seemingly controversial choice) – employs an ‘interesting’ style. She avoids capitalisation entirely (including proper nouns). Each sentence is given a paragraph break, regardless of length. Sentences are, for the most part, short.

Complementing (compounding?) the experimental nature of the novel is the fact that the courses of the lives of two women are told against each other. One chapter we are with Bbrigette who hates Hheinz but loves the idea of marrying him because he represents her best chance at material wealth and ‘the good life’; and the next chapter we are with Ppaula, who follows her heart and dreams rather than conforming to society’s conception of that very same ‘good life’.

As an exercise in creatively eviscerating the place of ‘woman’ in society through a Marxist/ feminist lens, it is a great success. Class and gender are effectively explored and critiqued through the narrative. As an exercise of skilful writing and storytelling, I’m less convinced. While I’d not go so far as denounce Jelinek as a fraud or of completely lacking in talent, I didn’t enjoy the act of reading as I usually do. It felt like a chore, and that’s rarely a recommendation.

Comments

Roddy said…
The arrow almost looks like the symbol off a convict uniform circa 1800ish.
Tash said…
Bravo for plowing thru those books and finding merits to them. Elfrieda -- fascinating name but must be hard going thru life with it.
The photo makes me think of "peek-a-boo". How unusual that it is curved.
I tried listening to "A portrait of an artist as a young man"...after 10 minutes, I was ready to throw the whole audio book out the window. Maybe it reads better.
Kris McCracken said…
Roddy, could be.

Tash, it's been a while since I've given up on a book. To be fair though, I've not read too many beyond 250 pages this year.
Leovi said…
An arrow very interesting. Absolute Beginners looks like a very interesting book.

Popular posts from this blog

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

This is the moon. Have I mentioned how much I adore the zoom on my camera? It's Theme Thursday you see, and after last week's limp effort, I have been thinking about how I might redeem myself. Then I clicked on the topic and discover that it was BUTTON. We've been hearing a lot about the moon in the past couple of weeks. Apparently some fellas went up there and played golf and what-not forty-odd years ago. The desire to get to the moon, however, was not simply about enhancing opportunities for Meg and Mog titles and skirting local planning by-laws in the construction of new and innovative golf courses. No, all of your Sputniks , "One small steps" and freeze dried ice cream was about one thing , and one thing only : MAD Now, I don't mean mad in terms of "bloke breaks record for number of scorpions he can get up his bum", no I mean MAD as in Mutual assured destruction . When I was a young man you see, there was a lot of talk about the type of m...

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral...