Just a couple of books to mention that I picked up in the States. The Whole Earth Baseball Book is a marvellous pot-pourri of everything to do with baseball apart from the game itself; films, books, journalism, plays and baseball cards included. Inspirational and great for getting through the winter without even a firestove league for comfort. The Best of Sports Illustrated is a a lovely book, full of great pictures, history and those famous covers. Recommended if, like me, you buy the magazines when you can find them. Thomas Boswell has another new hardback out called Gameday. Same format; lots of classy journalism from the best in the business.
The nicest part of buying books in the States was that both Waldenbooks and B.Dalton's (the two big mall chains) have introduced a Preferred Reader scheme which gives you a worthwhile 10% off their already discounted prices. The cost of this major benefit? Five dollars each. Needless to say I joined both and saved about thirty dollars overall. As the cards last for a year, I can see that they will be a very good deal for major buyers like me. Good idea, is it one we could follow here without affecting the NBA?
I am not a big reader of crime books as, Elmore Leonard aside, I have found the field disappointing in the main. That said, I haven't exactly covered all the bases but if I can find some more of the quality of Thomas Harris' Red Dragon and The Silence of the Lambs (Corgi and Mandarin, about £4 each), I predict a quick conversion to the genre.
Both books stand alone to an extent but they are linked in one crucial area and the important reading order is as above. Both concern particularly nasty serial killers and concentrate on the forensic side of police work. This gives them a scientific, hardware approach that I have not come across before and which is certainly fascinating for a first time reader. The other striking features are the gruesome realism and excellent characters in the story. The criminals (and some of the crimes) are vividly described and can actually make one feel ill. Some passages are written with such skill and observation that the atmosphere, tension and fear are quite pronounced. Gut wrenching stuff indeed and a new, not too wholesome, experience for me.
The general plan is to recount the story through the eyes of a Federal agent who, in an effort to optimise the few clues left by these peculiar nutters, tries to get inside the mind of the killer. Not a pleasant place to be given that one is a careful, muscle-bound 'biter' and the other specializes in flaying his victims and making their skins into dresses. Mmmm, nice chaps. Easily the strongest part of both books is Hannibal Lecter, a highly intelligent captured serial killer ('Hannibal the Cannibal') who seems to know how both the killer and the agent are working. It is his cryptic clues, obstruction and warped mind that hold the investigation and plot together. Lecter is a sickening, loathsome character and also a marvellous invention.
Having read these two in just two sittings (they really are that good), I wheeled down to Murder One's new shop on Charing Cross Rd to see what else was available and find that, typically, Harris is one of these slow authors who produce one book every two or three years. There is something very wrong when the likes of Piers Anthony push out piles of crap every month, but I suppose one must wait for quality. Consequently, there is no new one to buy in hardback but Black Sunday, his first novel, is now high on the 'to read' pile. Thanks to Michele Montagni for the tip on Mr Harris and I'd be keen to hear from those in the know when the next novel is due.
The Name of the Rose was a very good book, but the film worked rather better for me. Travels in HyperReality was, in the main, pretentious claptrap. Foucault's Pendulum (Picador £3.50) is Umberto Eco's latest tour de force and it is a notable book in many ways.
First off, the book is superbly written; fluid, witty, extravagantly learned and cleverly constructed. The basic theme is history, particularly that surrounding the Knights Templar and their place in the global scheme of things. For Foucault's Pendulum is a book concerning conspiracy theory, following in the footsteps of the Illuminati trilogy and Holy Blood, Holy Grail, and in the process showing them up to be poor examples of the genre. But more than anything else, the book engages the intellect with a vengeance and forces one to think about life, history and the interpretation of 'facts'.
Foucault's Pendulum is almost all plot. Many characters are portrayed but their depth and roles are fairly incidental to the relentless storyline that builds to a spectacular climax. There is a clever mystery yarn along with tales of the occult, academia, publishing, friendship and love. There is the most convincing destruction of numerology I will probably ever read. Finally, there is a story within a story about ideas, imagination and perceived reality. And that lot just scratches the surface.
All of this is interspersed with Eco's now familiar literary jokes and impressive references, many of which I could hear whizzing straight over my head. A good reference book and a working knowledge of French and Latin help a lot here, but I have to wonder how many sub-levels and allegories I have completely failed to spot. It's that sort of book - you can read it as a straight story or delve into it looking for other meanings. Nevertheless, and despite its length, it is an easy epic to read and I managed it all on the journey back from Florida. It quickly developed into a real pageturner and only a couple of slack sections held matters up.
Underlying and interwoven with the plot are more themes and concepts than I can possibly recount here. Connectivity and interrelatedness are the main load bearers but numerology, Hermeticism and nuggets of knowledge abound. The fascinating connections drawn throughout the book are enough to drive one to distraction and, as the book states in a series of self-referential observations, reality and fiction rapidly begin to blur. It takes constant effort to remember that it is simply a clever novel, not a history book. In fact, it would be nice if more history were written such a readable style - full marks to the translator on this one.
So, is Eco up to his old trick of showing us how clever he is? Well, to an extent yes, but it is carried off with such flair that one enjoys the experience. Does it aim to poke fun at the pseudo-history of the Holy Bloods of this world? Undoubtedly, and about time. Is it all a big joke at the reader's expense? Probably not, because at whichever level you take the book, it offers good value - I feel we are viewing the Emperor's New Clothes from a comfortable distance.
The paranoid marginals can take it as proof that there is a master plan and that they aren't part of it, the fan of the novel will find it a superb mix of cerebral plot, history and interpolated 'facts' and the historian will find it an interesting diversion for similar reasons. Foucault's Pendulum is a cracking read, takes the honours as my Book of the Year and is, I believe, one to return to frequently. Marvellous stuff.
The Name of the Rose was a very good book, but the film worked rather better for me. Travels in HyperReality was, in the main, pretentious claptrap. Foucault's Pendulum (Picador £3.50) is Umberto Eco's latest tour de force and it is a notable book in many ways.
First off, the book is superbly written; fluid, witty, extravagantly learned and cleverly constructed. The basic theme is history, particularly that surrounding the Knights Templar and their place in the global scheme of things. For Foucault's Pendulum is a book concerning conspiracy theory, following in the footsteps of the Illuminati trilogy and Holy Blood, Holy Grail, and in the process showing them up to be poor examples of the genre. But more than anything else, the book engages the intellect with a vengeance and forces one to think about life, history and the interpretation of 'facts'.
Foucault's Pendulum is almost all plot. Many characters are portrayed but their depth and roles are fairly incidental to the relentless storyline that builds to a spectacular climax. There is a clever mystery yarn along with tales of the occult, academia, publishing, friendship and love. There is the most convincing destruction of numerology I will probably ever read. Finally, there is a story within a story about ideas, imagination and perceived reality. And that lot just scratches the surface.
All of this is interspersed with Eco's now familiar literary jokes and impressive references, many of which I could hear whizzing straight over my head. A good reference book and a working knowledge of French and Latin help a lot here, but I have to wonder how many sub-levels and allegories I have completely failed to spot. It's that sort of book - you can read it as a straight story or delve into it looking for other meanings. Nevertheless, and despite its length, it is an easy epic to read and I managed it all on the journey back from Florida. It quickly developed into a real pageturner and only a couple of slack sections held matters up.
Underlying and interwoven with the plot are more themes and concepts than I can possibly recount here. Connectivity and interrelatedness are the main load bearers but numerology, Hermeticism and nuggets of knowledge abound. The fascinating connections drawn throughout the book are enough to drive one to distraction and, as the book states in a series of self-referential observations, reality and fiction rapidly begin to blur. It takes constant effort to remember that it is simply a clever novel, not a history book. In fact, it would be nice if more history were written such a readable style - full marks to the translator on this one.
So, is Eco up to his old trick of showing us how clever he is? Well, to an extent yes, but it is carried off with such flair that one enjoys the experience. Does it aim to poke fun at the pseudo-history of the Holy Bloods of this world? Undoubtedly, and about time. Is it all a big joke at the reader's expense? Probably not, because at whichever level you take the book, it offers good value - I feel we are viewing the Emperor's New Clothes from a comfortable distance.
The paranoid marginals can take it as proof that there is a master plan and that they aren't part of it, the fan of the novel will find it a superb mix of cerebral plot, history and interpolated 'facts' and the historian will find it an interesting diversion for similar reasons. Foucault's Pendulum is a cracking read, takes the honours as my Book of the Year and is, I believe, one to return to frequently. Marvellous stuff.