Book Review: Nutshell by Ian McEwan

This book was my pick for the bookclub I run in my village. There were some very mixed reviews but personally I loved it. 

A creative retelling of the Shakespeare play, Hamlet written from the perspective of a foetus, Nutshell by Ian McEwan is the artfully written tale of the uncle and mother conspiring to kill the father of the unborn baby.

To enjoy the book you must first suspend your disbelief at the baby’s intelligence – he has an awareness of the family’s situation going on outside his ‘walls’ because he can hear conversation and he seems to be acutely aware of his mother’s inner-most feelings even if it isn’t what it being portrayed on the outside. He also absorbs knowledge of world events through the radio and podcasts that his mother leaves on at night, which allows for some interesting social commentary, apparently a common element of McEwan’s novels (this was my first).

Some bookclub members found this aspect of the novel hard to digest which sadly hindered their enjoyment of it. For me though, I just found the foetus-narration an interesting literary device. In an interview on the author’s website, he says that this element of fantasy was quite freeing as writer, and this is certainly apparent. I find the novel very playfully written and amusing in parts, especially the parts where the unborn baby talks about his taste in fine wines thanks to his mother’s (rather concerning) drinking habits whilst pregnant… I seem to remember Sancerre is a favourite of his. I think for me the humour broke up the more serious social and political musings.

In some ways the plot was almost secondary to the philosophical narrative. That being said, sometimes when I was reading this on my commute I wanted something a bit more fast-paced and less complex and so I skipped through some parts.

Before bookclub, I’d have absolutely recommended this book to anyone but on reflection, I think I’d have to be a bit more careful. For me it was solid 4/5. 

Book Review: The Girls by Emma Cline

This book speaks of a world I found so horrifying and dangerous yet because it was told from the conscience and justifications of a 14 year old girl, I could almost find myself relating. For a debut novelist, Emma Cline has certainly demonstrated a fantastic grasp on verbalising the inner workings of the young female mind, so this was such an exciting find!

Fourteen-year-old Evie Boyd’s attention is caught by a gang of girls that live in her northern Californian town. With the “endless, formless summer” stretching ahead of her, Evie is seduced by a life spent amongst the girls in the out-of-town commune in which they inhabit. Cline’s story is based somewhat on the Manson cult, which I actually hadn’t heard of, but from a bit of Googling seems like a very big deal back in the 1960s. With Charles Manson at the centre, a large group of girls carried out gruesome murders with a pure kind of loyalty to their leader. Russell is the ‘Charles Manson’ in this tale, but Russell is consciously cast aside in order to focus on ‘the girls’.

Some criticism has been given to Emma Cline’s style of writing as there is a tendency to over-dramatise the insignificant; dresses “stuttering with loose stitching”, the “domestic rot of the kitchen sponge”. I found that this allowed me to more vividly and sharply imagine Evie’s world, with rich senses of colour and smell. Often these details were described when Evie was at home and feeling listless; the rush and roar of excitement for her new life had not yet come and she seemed to express disdain and boredom of the everyday.

I keep saying on this blog that I don’t really enjoy books that flick back and forth in time but once again, this one’s blown that out of the water. We experience older, grown up Evie’s life, as she narrates the tale. Her story as an adult is told with the same rich intensity. Sadly this Evie doesn’t seem to have made much of her life since the commune, and the very last passage in the book where she is walking on the beach almost willing the male passer-by to cause her harm suggests she is still an outsider desperate to be noticed. 

4/5

Book Review: Maya's Notebook by Isabel Allende

First of all, I LOVED this book!

The book tells the story of Maya, a teenager 'in hiding', who has been sent to live with a family friend in Chiloé, an island on the archipelago off Chile. While Maya settles into this community, we learn about the series of events back in her Californian hometown that lead to her to escape. The story masterfully undulates between the present and the past, in a way that is somehow not nearly as annoying as I have found in other books that do the same!

Maya had been virtually abandoned by her parents at a young age, leaving her Chilean grandmother and her warm and loving grandfather to bring her up. Upon the death of her grandpa, Maya spirals down a path of self-destruction, stealing and using drugs. Concerned, her grandparents send her away for rehabilitation in Oregon, but Maya runs away, and is picked up by a truck driver who drugs and rapes her at a motel. Fearing for her life, and left penniless in Las Vegas, Maya falls into a gang of criminals operating around the city, dealing in counterfeit money.

The harrowing account of the depths of Maya’s addiction to drugs during this time was the thing that shocked me the most. Maya is headstrong and determined, and I was willing for her to pull herself out her circumstances, but her addiction traps and I was reading the pages very rapidly hoping she survives.

Allende tells the story in short little chunks; there are no chapters as such, although the seasons are marked. I liked this way of storytelling – it allowed for small anecdotes to be relayed, without dwelling on one thing for too long.

From a bit of research, I have heard that Allende gives genius depth to her characters. I think the depth to Maya was captured so well due to all the stories of all the other characters that she meets, especially on the island of Chiloé. From the circle of witches to the oldest lady on the island, the community and its history and politics are woven into the story so that by the end we have a wonderfully rich image of Maya’s home.

There is just so much packed into this book that it would be impossible to talk about everything, so I’m simply going to say I loved it (again) and I’m glad that I’m back to my positive book reviews after my last one (sorry Elizabeth Heathcote). Giving it a solid 4/5.