Saturday, November 2, 2024

William Boyd: ‘Fantasy is a genre that I cannot abide any more’

William Boyd


The books of my life

William Boyd: ‘Fantasy is a genre that I cannot abide any more’

The novelist on why he can’t read JRR Tolkien, being hooked on Muriel Spark and obsessed with James Joyce


 William Boyd

Fri 1 Nov 2024 10.00 GMT


My earliest reading memory

In west Africa, where I was born in 1952, in Ghana to be precise. Aged about five, reading Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book in a large-format, copiously illustrated edition.

My favourite book growing up
The Basil Duke Lee stories by F Scott Fitzgerald. They are not well known. I read them in my early teens. They are heavily autobiographical – Fitzgerald was writing about his own adolescence. For the first time, it seemed, a writer spoke directly to me. “Yes,” I thought, “this is exactly how I feel.”


The book that changed me as a teenager
Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. I read it, utterly rapt, on an overnight flight from London to Lagos where my family was living at the time. It was 1970 and I was 18 years old. I thought it was the most wonderful novel ever written: funny, cruel, absurd – defiantly, brilliantly anti-war. And I was flying into Nigeria’s civil war, the Biafran war. Art and life conjoined.

The book that changed my mind
Mister Johnson by Joyce Cary. Another African book about a young Nigerian clerk working for a district officer in the 1920s. When I was in my teens, growing up in Nigeria, we had a cook called Mr Johnson. That was what drew me to Cary’s masterpiece and it was revelatory in its empathy and honesty. Cary opened my eyes to the Africa I was living in. I later, coincidentally, wrote an introduction to the book and, later still, adapted it for a film directed by Bruce Beresford.

The book that made me want to be a writer
The Heart of the Matter by Graham Greene. The novel is set in Sierra Leone during the second world war – a west African country I had visited, very similar to the two countries I had lived in, Ghana and Nigeria. I read it in my late teens and for the first time I saw how personal experience of a place – its landscape, atmosphere, weather, textures – could be transformed into fiction, into art.


The author I came back to
Muriel Spark. I think I first read her work too young; I couldn’t connect with her clever, oblique spareness, her dry, ironic take on the world. Then I was asked to review A Far Cry from Kensington, many years later. And I was suddenly hooked. I’ve read everything she’s written.

The book I reread
Ulysses by James Joyce. I am an obsessive Joycean, as fascinated by the man as by the work. But I keep going back to Ulysses. I have about eight copies of it for some reason.

The book I could never read again
The Lord of the Rings. I read it aged 12 and was entranced. That is the age to read Tolkien. Fantasy is a genre that I cannot abide any more.

The book I discovered later in life
The Untouchable by John Banville.

The book I am currently reading
The Echoes by Evie Wyld.


My comfort read
Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov.

 Gabriel’s Moon by William Boyd is published by Viking. 


THE GUARDIAN




Mieko Kawakami: ‘Women are no longer content to shut up’





Mieko Kawakami, Japanese author of Breasts and EggsFiction in translation
Mieko Kawakami: ‘Women are no longer content to shut up’

Traditionalists in Japan hated her feminist novel, but Breasts and Eggs was a huge bestseller. The author talks about taking on male privilege, orientalist cliches … and Haruki Murakami

David McNeill
Tue 18 Aug 2020 11.20 

Mieko Kawakami began writing partly to explore the “randomness and strangeness” of life – so it is oddly fitting that the release of her novel Breasts and Eggs (Chichi to Ran in Japanese) has suddenly been upended by a worldwide pandemic. After building up a loyal following in Japan over the decade, Kawakami was all set to go global, attending festivals in the US and Europe, before Covid-19 hit. Still, being stuck at home with her young son has provided plenty of grist for her feminist mill.

Friday, November 1, 2024

Dorothy Parker and the Art of the Literary Takedown

Dorithy Parker


SECOND READ

Dorothy Parker and the Art of the Literary Takedown

Her reviews are not contemptuous, a common pitfall for her imitators. They are simply unbridled in their dislike.

When I think of Dorothy Parker’s hangovers, and I do, the image that comes to mind is that of the U.S.S. Arizona. A sunken battleship resting at the bottom of Pearl Harbor, the Arizona is slowly leaking oil as you read this. The ship loaded up on 1.5 million gallons of fuel on December 6, 1941, and has approximately half a million gallons to go. Parker drank with such consistency and complaint that I suspect her headache is proceeding on a similar schedule, throbbing from beyond the grave, ever so slightly, to this day. References to alcohol are rife in her poems (the famous quatrain “after three I’m under the table / after four I’m under my host” may be apocryphal but it’s also emblematic). But it is in her weekly books column for The New Yorker, “Constant Reader,” comprised of thirty-four entries between 1927 and 1928, that one senses that she is this close to asking the reader for an aspirin.

More rain forecast as 500 extra troops mobilised in Spanish flood disaster

 



More rain forecast as 500 extra troops mobilised in Spanish flood disaster


Death toll climbs to at least 158 people with many more unaccounted for, with Valencia region worst hit


Fri 1 Nov 2024 10.42 GMT

Residents in Spain’s Valencia region have been warned to brace for more rain, days after rivers of mud-coloured waters left a trail of devastation and as an additional 500 soldiers were earmarked to help with the rescue operations.

What we’re reading: writers and readers on the books they enjoyed in October



What we’re reading: writers and readers on the books they enjoyed in October

Authors, critics and Guardian readers discuss the titles they have read over the last month


Ian RankinJohn Self, and Guardian readers
Thu 31 Oct 2024 17.59