Books of the Year

It's time for our final post of the term - and of 2021 (what a year). In spite of everything else that's been going on, somehow, we've all kept reading.  Here are some of the books we've enjoyed most. 

Sandro Weeks recommends The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach: 'a fun book about the journey of a college baseball team in Wisconsin with a storyline riddled with drama, anticipation and complicated relationships'.

Luke Buckland recommends The Firekeeper's Daughter by Angelina Boulley: 'it is a thriller about Daunis Fontaine, a Canadian girl with a French Canadian mother with inheritance to the Sugar Ojibwe Tribe of her late father. She encounters a tragic murder, which leads her down a path of drug trafficking in her community, eventually intertwined in an FBI investigation of the trafficking ring. I would argue that this book is insightful, suspenseful and emotionally complex, as it depicts alongside the thrilling plot, some of the great contrasts between her tribal heritage and Westernised culture from her French Canadian mother.'

Leavers' Post ...

Sadly, at the end of this term, we are bidding farewell to Mr Collinson and Mr O'Brien - but they've been kind enough to answer the book blog's leavers' questionnaire before departing.  

What were you reading when you were a teenager?

Mr O'Brien: As an early teen I was obsessed with the Alex Rider series. I progressed to reading a lot of SAS Fiction, especially by the author Chris Ryan. 

Mr Collinson: I grew up on the edge of the West Yorkshire moors, just outside Bradford and very close to Haworth, home of the Brontës. I was absolutely mesmerised by the novels and also by the landscape, which is still wild and somehow unforgiving. My surroundings definitely made the books come alive. I still like to visit the Brontë parsonage museum from time to time, when I am up there.

King Lear

King Lear by William Shakespeare

Introduced by Mr Anthony

King Lear begins and ends with a cautionary note on the dangers of speaking. Cordelia, realising that the currency of language has been debased by her sisters’ inflated rhetoric, refuses to extemporise on her love for Lear and instead explains that it is Goneril and Regan who have used language to say 'nothing'. At the play’s close, Edgar advises those still standing to 'speak what we feel, not what we ought to say', reminding us that language is always performative, that social context often strangles self-expression, and that the spoken word is, like Wilde’s truth, 'rarely pure and never simple'. 

And who would know this better than a community of aristocrats knelt anxiously at the feet of a king whose capriciousness precedes him? In this, Shakespeare was merely reflecting the mechanics of the Stewart court, an obsequious sequence of meta-events in which courtiers were repeatedly called upon to demonstrate their proficiency in what they 'ought to say', in exchange for patronage and influence. James I was notorious for promoting handsome male favourites, men such as Robert Carr and George Villiers, who publicly flattered the king; for his efforts the previously cash-strapped Carr was gifted Sherbourne Castle and the post of Lord Chamberlain, whilst Villiers (when Carr fell out of favour) was made Earl of Buckingham and referred to by the monarch as 'my sweet child and wife'. When Elizabeth I’s one-time favourite Sir Walter Raleigh married without telling her, he was banished from court and had to wait five years before the queen consented to see him again.

Book of the Week

The Go-Between by L P Hartley
Recommended by Adam Seydo

The Go-Between by L.P.Hartley is a delicate and sensitively written story about the premature revelation to an innocent child of the truths of adulthood. 

Set in a grand country manor called Brandham Hall during the turn of the 20th century, a time Hartley himself grew up in and was deeply familiar with, it is full of intricate and thought-provoking metaphors, and centres around a young boy, Leo, who becomes increasingly aware of the real world when he starts delivering letters between a young woman called Marian, who lives at Brandham Hall, and Ted the farmer.

I was provoked to get this book after reading the opening line somewhere: ‘The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.’ In many ways, this sums up the book well, for as well as being a novel about innocence, it also focuses on how people and their ideas change over time, and how actions that seemed right at the time can seem completely illogical when reflected upon. The entire novel is written from the point of view of Leo looking back many decades in the future, after finding the diary he wrote at the time, which adds another dimension to the story, and allows Hartley to go into detail and exaggerate the moments that Leo remembers most, and understate less significant details and those which Leo forgets.

Something else I gained from reading this that I didn't expect to was an insight into the life and thoughts of a schoolboy about my age in the early 1900s. This was particularly eye opening for me, as he is a character whose feelings I can relate to, though the world he lives in is so starkly different from ours, not least because of the time period, but also because of how privileged his lifestyle was while staying at Brandham Hall.

I would highly recommend this novel to anyone who enjoys reading books to gain a different viewpoint, especially on the subtleties and complexities of human relationships. While this book is not particularly action packed, it in no way ceases to be gripping. While it mostly explores a boy’s discovery of love and the adult world, he also learns more while at Brandham Hall, about the harsh nature of life itself, and there are several darker moments all, culminating in a dramatic and haunting ending.

I really cannot do this book justice in a review, for it is subtle, engaging and hugely rewarding, and a piece of literature you can only truly appreciate after reading it

Book of the Week

Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

Recommended by Kirin Bhatnagar 

‘Do you believe in the human heart? I don’t simply mean the organ, obviously. I’m speaking in the poetic sense. The human heart. Do you think that there is such a thing? Something that makes each of us special and individual?’. – The Father, Klara and the Sun

Kazuo Ishiguro is notable for being a recipient of the Nobel prize for literature: his latest book, Klara and the Sun, is set in a world not far in the future, where gene editing to improve the population is normal, and is told through the eyes of Klara, a so-called robotic ‘artificial friend (AF)’ that operates via solar power. The goal of these AFs is to fill the role of best friend for kids over the course of their childhood. Klara, unlike the other AFs, is extremely observant and sensitive to her surroundings, and longs to see the outside world. One day, a girl named Josie walks into the store and chooses Klara to be her AF. However, as Klara soon finds out, reality isn’t as sweet as stories make it out to be.

I found this book very interesting and enjoyable to read. Riddled with plot twists and a gripping plot line, this book was very thought-provoking, posing questions which, while not being the simplest to answer, were always very interesting to think about and relevant in today’s time. One of the things that shocked me was how human the Klara seemed, something which subsequently made me ponder on the true nature of being authentically human. Another factor which added to the overall effect was the fact that the world described in this book was very similar to our own present-day reality, and the technology described was also within the boundaries of our current scientific capability. Lastly, the ending of the book was also noteworthy as, contrasting as it sounds, it was both happy and sad at the same time.

Kazuo Ishiguro, accepting the Nobel Prize for Literature

In conclusion, Klara and the Sun was a very stimulating and enjoyable read, relevant in today’s society, and in my opinion, a very capable winner of the Nobel prize.

Book of the Week

The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells
Recommended by Archie Rowland 

The War of the Worlds is, by any measure, a classic. As the first book to ever describe an alien race and their invasion of Earth, how could it be otherwise? Nonetheless, one has to ask whether it still delivers as fiction in 2021. The answer is a resounding yes. 

It is in equal measure enthralling science fiction and horror with a wonderfully crafted atmosphere of fear and panic pervading its pages. Alien invasions juxtaposed with horse-drawn carts may seem incongruous but there is no reason why they should – there is, after all, no rule that a hostile alien species needs to wait until the twenty-first century to invade! It is also intimate and engaging, being told as a village-by-village and person-by-person account rather than as a narrative of global struggle.

One of the most striking aspects of the book is simply how human it is. The narrator’s journey from amazement to anger, fear and the verge of madness is an unsettling yet entirely believable one. Even in his intolerance it is difficult not to have sympathy for his plight and it is, of course, far more believable that his journey ends in breakdown than in a spirit of hope and optimism. There are no heroic presidents, generals or superheroes here, just ordinary people trying to survive and, as a story, the book is all the better for it. 

As a book it does, of course, also offer you a rare opportunity to create an image of the beautifully described Martians in your mind’s eye rather than having it rendered for you in stunning CGI. And, as a final enticement for a St Paul’s boy, it features skirmishes in locations as familiar as Richmond Park, Sheen and the River Thames itself. You don’t get that in Independence Day!

If you're interested in science-fiction, have a look at the blog's sci-fi reading list here, and if you'd like to find out more about the London locations that feature in The War of the Worlds, writer Rob Lordan has a fascinating post about them on his blog here.  

SPS Predict the Booker Prize 2021

Last night, SPS held its fourth annual ‘Predict the Booker’ event, streamed live from the Kayton Library to an online audience, and chaired by Mr Mahmoud. A panel of six Pauline students each selected one of the novels on this year’s shortlist and pitched the case for it as a possible Booker Prize winner. At the end of the evening, viewers cast their vote for the novel they’d been persuaded should win, and the novel they thought would win. Read on to find out what they decided …

Book of the Week

Love After Love by Ingrid Persaud

Recommended by Dr Cocks

  
The title of Ingrid Persaud’s novel is a direct echo of Derek Walcott’s 1971 poem of the same title:

    The time will come
    when, with elation
    you will greet yourself arriving
    at your own door, in your own mirror
    and each will smile at the other's welcome,

    and say, sit here. Eat.
    You will love again the stranger who was your self.
    Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
    to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

Walcott’s poem celebrates a time when fractured selves will be reconciled and accommodated – a time in the future when we might learn self-acceptance, understanding, a sense of being at home with one’s self after a period of exile, a biblical homecoming when the self shall return to the self, catching them unaware, and be welcomed as a guest with feasting. In the context of the multiple selves we navigate in the world of the African diaspora and in the post-liberationist milieu of the Caribbean, this poem might also speak to the sense of self-reckoning, self-recognition, and self-love that nations might find too.

Persaud’s tender and ultimately joyous novel of 2020 does some of the cultural work of capturing a national sensibility, even while it acknowledges that any such sensibilities to be in flux. It unfolds, for the most part, or at least for the best parts, in present day Port of Spain ( Trinidad). It’s the story of Betty Ramdin, a close-to-middle aged teacher who has suffered physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her alcoholic husband. A few years on from her husband’s sudden death, she takes in a lodger, Mr Chetan, a homely man in search of a family , and together with her son Solo, they form a complicated and happily dysfunctional family whose love for each other might just be enough to sustain them as they come to terms with who they are, with the legacy of the violent past, and with the selves they must learn to love.

LE2 salute J G Ballard: Part Two ...

In today's post, LE2 continue their paean to J G Ballard.

Ballard’s stories place characters in often strikingly bizarre and gloomy scenarios, both as prescient warnings as to the possible future of humanity and perceptive dissections of the human psyche. Instead of writing about spaceships and far away planets, Ballard finds the extraordinary in the mundane. He writes about everything from apartment blocks erupting into violence to a man getting marooned on a traffic island. Several of his novels have been adapted into films including a 1987 production, Empire of the Sun, directed by Steven Spielberg and starring Christian Bale. Ballard has a uniquely identifiable writing style that to many has become an iconic staple of the genres of science fiction and dystopia. (Rahul Marchand)

Ballard was and remains one of the most prolific and influential writers of the 20th century. His powerfully lyrical writing evokes a pessimistic view of humanity through a distinctive style of narration. This writing also pioneers an interest into the dissection of human behaviour and social order. Not only is he an interesting writer, Ballard is also a widely researched and intriguing figure. An inspiring and impactful background greatly influenced his post-apocalyptic style themes and allows for his writing to focus on the micro-societies and climates that take the setting of his stories. Through his characters, Ballard puts forward the message that individuality is only provisional and broken down when the stability of society can no longer be taken for granted. In summary, Ballard entertains through his bizarre storylines and you will be taken by surprise frequently when reading his work. (Lucas Suarez)

Ballard is remarkable because his writing has a unique atmosphere that pulls you into his worlds, which are often grim reflections of the present. These environments, despite being created over 50 years ago, predict current problems to an eerie degree of accuracy. Ballard’s stories explore the psychological result of placing a human in such conditions, which ultimately makes for an interesting and introspective read. (Lucas Van Den Oever)

J.G Ballard is a one of the most striking, accomplished novelists of the 20th century. His rich background is evident in his writing through his unique style and ideas. His medical background is evident through the scientific terminology and precise numbers that are used frequently. This allows him to give the reader a unique insight into the world of science that other authors may not be capable of. Moreover, after having spent the early years of his life as a prisoner in a Japanese prisoner of war camp, his literature shows an obsession with enclosed society and its effect on humans. The fact that he can speak from dramatic experience is again unique and striking. This leads to the striking nature of his literature being not as fantastical or extra-terrestrial as many other writers but he focuses more on the strangeness in the everyday. (Sandro Weeks)

If you'd like to follow up LE2's enthusiastic recommendations, you can find plenty of examples of Ballard's fiction in the Kayton Library - including The Drowned World, Empire of the Sun, High Rise and his autobiography, Miracles of Life.  

LE2 Salute J G Ballard!

This week, LEN.2 are taking over the Book Blog to give a 'Salute to J.G. Ballard', presenting their hot takes on this famous British Science Fiction writer, whose themes of alienation, psychology, and technology, are as relevant today as they were when they were written.

Picture a world in which a university professor eating his dog 'stuffed with garlic and herbs', or the body of a drowned giant washing up on the shores of a British seaside town, are events considered to be within the realms of normality; this is the dark, yet exhilarating world of J G Ballard. Ballard specializes in placing mundane and bleak everyman figures in circumstances too bizarre to comprehend, brought about either by the chaos of their own minds, as is the case in ‘The Enormous Space’ in which a 9 to 5 office worker decides never to leave his house again, or by external factors such the gross overpopulation that is evident in ‘Billenium’. Ballard explores the response of these everyman figures, utilising them as embodiments of the human race as a whole, allowing him to cynically comment on human nature. Ballard is so skilled at emulating the human mind in his work, that the readers themselves come to question how they would behave in these bizarre situations; filled with doubt as the darker side of their nature is exposed.  Much of his work is believed to be inspired by his experiences in a Japanese prisoner of war camp during WW2 - the idea of thousands of families suddenly being forced together is extremely Ballardian. (Caspar Robertson)

J G Ballard has managed to create his own remarkable niche in the genre of science fiction which is an astonishing achievement and shows the strength of his writing. Instead of focusing on the ‘space opera’ style of science fiction writing, Ballard keeps his writing grounded in realism by using mundane civil settings and a solitary character to explore wider aspects of society such as consumerism and emotional detachment which are all pressing themes in the modern day. In my opinion, this makes his writing great because of the way most of his premises are entirely relatable until they turn darker which also serves the key science fiction trope of being a warning to society. Moreover, Ballard uses language in a clinical and precise way which means his style is often quite direct. This makes his books a quick and enjoyable read. Any reader should definitely read some Ballard because of the way his writing has become spookily prophetic (the majority of his great works were in the 1960s and 1970s) of the way we live our lives now which gives the reader a lot to reflect on and this is also another reason why his writing has endured so well. (Suleyman Ansari)

In my first few weeks of English A level I was lucky enough to encounter the specific peculiarities and wonders of J G Ballard’s Science Fiction. Having now read excerpts from High Rise and the short stories of ‘Billenium’ and ‘The Drowned Giant’, Ballard is alone in his utilisation of complex, broken social structures to depict his perception of humanity’s strangeness in action. Ballard is able to present the products of his notably unique view on human nature and illogical social structures, such as the animalistic nature which is able to exhibit itself in our consumer-based societies, social hierarchies and in general the corruption and twisted mindsets of those who are seen as ‘in charge’. J G Ballard writes in concise, precise English, with a focus on the particular actions of a character over the emotional side - a refreshing style that perhaps represents the way in which humans see each other on a day to day basis. The particular mix of Ballard’s style, precision and analytical critique of human structures mean that J G Ballard is one of the most engaging and interesting writers that I have personally experienced. (Luke Buckland)

J G Ballard is a writer who had a long and illustrious career with many of his novels turning into Hollywood movies. His books are generally seen to be of the science fiction genre but his writing is deserving of its own genre. I like Ballard’s fiction as he has the power to change what angle you see the world at through his usual writing style of taking a mildly dystopian world, characters rejected by society and combining the two to create an environment which is usually sinister. As time progresses, Ballard’s fiction will only become more relevant and significant as much of his fiction is set in the future and already, some of the stuff he has prophesied - such as Ronald Reagan becoming president - has come true. It is for this reason that it is necessary for the school to explore his works. As well as being great pieces of literature, they offer a sensible view of what the future may perhaps look like and something that we will be able to learn from as well as mitigate against. (Will Cronshaw)

A scene from 'The Drowned Giant', in the Netflix series Love, Death and Robots

J G Ballard’s stories are well-researched on the scientific properties in them and are often viewed as cautionary tales told through an analytical lens. Ballard rights in an unemotional and impersonal style, focusing on the mundanity of the fantastic. I personally have greatly enjoyed what Ballard I have read, specifically I enjoy the narratives that he creates as well as the absurd but scaringly believable scenarios that his novels take place in, such as a world where overpopulation is so great a human being is only allowed 4 square feet living space. I would greatly recommend Ballard to any Pauline: not only are his stories well written and enjoyable but many are cautionary tales that seem as important and prophetic now as ever. (Topo Gilpin)

Thanks to Mr Kemp for curating this Ballard blog-athon: Part II on Friday ...!  

This week in literature…

... saw the death of experimental modernist poet, Hilda Doolittle (H.D.) in Zurich, 27th September, 1961. 

As a mythopoeic imagist, she was profoundly influenced by the avant-garde works of Ezra Pound. The poem below, ‘Hermes of the Ways’, perfectly encapsulates the style and intent of Imagism, an aesthetic that Pound describes, in an early letter to H.D., as 'objective—no slither; direct—no excessive use of adjectives, no metaphors that won’t permit examination. It’s straight talk, straight as the Greek!...'

Hermes of the Ways

by H.D.  

                                                        I

                                        The hard sand breaks,
                                        And the grains of it
                                        Are clear as wine.

                                        Far off over the leagues of it,
                                        The wind,
                                        Playing on the wide shore,
                                        Piles little ridges,
                                        And the great waves
                                        Break over it.

                                        But more than the many-foamed ways
                                        Of the sea,
                                        I know him
                                        Of the triple path-ways,

                                        Hermes,
                                        Who awaits.

                                        Dubious,
                                        Facing three ways,
                                        Welcoming wayfarers,
                                        He whom the sea-orchard
                                        Shelters from the west,
                                        From the east
                                        Weathers sea-wind;
                                        Fronts the great dunes.
                                        Wind rushes
                                        Over the dunes,
                                        And the coarse, salt-crusted grass
                                        Answers.

                                        Heu,
                                        It whips round my ankles!

                                                       II

                                        Small is
                                        This white stream,
                                        Flowing below ground
                                        From the poplar-shaded hill;
                                        But the water is sweet.

                                        Apples on the small trees
                                        Are hard,
                                        Too small,
                                        Too late ripened
                                        By a desperate sun
                                        That struggles through sea-mist.
                                        The boughs of the trees
                                        Are twisted
                                        By many bafflings;
                                        Twisted are
                                        The small-leafed boughs.

                                        But the shadow of them
                                        Is not the shadow of the mast-head
                                        Nor of the torn sails.

                                        Hermes, Hermes,
                                        The great sea foamed,
                                        Gnashed its teeth about me;
                                        But you have waited,
                                        Where sea-grass tangles with
                                        Shore-grass.

Book of the Week

The Fountains of Silence by Rupa Sepetys

Reviewed by Lachlan Murray

Incredibly well researched, Sepetys delivers on yet another work of captivating historical fiction. The Fountains of Silence shines light on a dark, and often overlooked 20th century history dictatorship. Spain under Franco provides the perfect stage for a forbidden romance. Daniel, a wealthy, Texan, aspiring photojournalist, meets Ana, an impoverished hotel worker. Their developing love faces several obstacles throughout the book, including disapproving family members and social differences. 

Although Daniel and Ana lead the narrative, various powerful secondary characters play their part. Perhaps my favourite character in recent memory is the mighty Fuga, who steals the show with his defiant values and noble attempts to become a legendary bullfighter. His supporting role, like many others, add depth to the environment and consequence to the leads' actions, while providing intriguing subplots themselves. Sepetys truly transports readers into foreign lands with her masterful, yet approachable, language. Her layered narratives and historical insights make for a fascinating read - my personal favourite of the 2021 Carnegie Shortlist.

Prizes Prizes Prizes

September kicks off the season of literary prizes, with the announcement of the winner of the Women's Prize for Fiction - the extraordinary Piranesi, by Susannah Clarke (reviewed by Mrs Cummings below) - and the Booker Prize shortlist. The Booker prize-winner will be announced on November 3rd, which means that this year's SPS Predict the Booker evening will take place just after half term. 

For those of you unfamiliar with Predict the Booker, this is what happens: a panel of student readers each choose one of the books on the shortlist, and make the case for it to win (and occasionally NOT to win), before the audience decides which book will get their vote - a bit like a literary balloon debate. If you'd like to get involved as one of this year's speakers, please contact Mrs Cummings, or pop along to the library to choose which book you'd like to recommend.  

The SPS track record for successfully predicting the winner has been, er, mixed - you can find out more about our 2020 predictions here, and our 2019's here - but it's always a highly entertaining (and illuminating) evening. We hope that lots of you will come along, or watch from home, as we'll be streaming the event again this year: so do get involved - it's a lot of fun!  

'Piranesi lives in the House. Perhaps he always has.'

Piranesi lives in the House, which is his world. It has endless corridors and an infinite number of rooms. Everywhere there are statues, each different from the next, and inside the House an ocean is imprisoned, with tides and waves flooding the staircases. Piranesi lives completely alone apart from a twice-weekly visitor who brings incongruous gifts. But then messages start to appear, scratched into the fabric of the House, and the space which Piranesi thought was safe and understood becomes strange and dangerous.

This is an absolutely magical book. You enter the world of Susanna Clarke’s astonishing imagination and while you’re in there, nothing else matters. This is a book to read in one sitting, immersed, and when you finish you will still have the sound of the waves in your ears and you will be startled by the real world. It is my book of the year, and indeed probably my favourite book of many years.

Susanna Clarke’s earlier work Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell was hugely successful but there has been a lengthy gap between it and this, her second book. During that time she has been ill with chronic fatigue and thought she would never write again. Her first book is a doorstop coming in at over 1,000 pages. This is a very slim volume in comparison at only 272 pages and it would be easy to feel cheated at how short it is. But every word counts and the writing is lyrical and elegant. Please do read it, it is wonderful.

You can see Bernadine Evaristo announcing the Women's Prize for Fiction winner here: - it's about 28 minutes in!  
 

Book of the Week

The Secret Barrister: Stories of the Law and How It's Broken
Recommended by Andy Wang 

Written by an anonymous author with the pen name 'the Secret Barrister', this book dives into the complicated criminal justice system in England and Wales, giving a personal account of the writer's own experience and revealing the system to be vastly underfunded and riddled with problems. Within pages, the reader discovers the shocking truth of what criminal justice is actually like, and how all of us are inextricably linked to it.

Poetry Friday ...

As well as reviews, articles and recommendations, the Book Blog also features occasional creative writing posts. Today's is a poem written by Mr Harris, which was partly inspired by Philip Larkin's poem 'Going, Going' (you can hear a recording of Larkin reading this poem here) and particularly by Walt Whitman's 'I saw in Louisiana a live-oak growing' - which you can read here.  

'As we wait on a packed train home'

As we wait on a packed train back home,
Trying to suffocate the noise of boys blaring
That rough racket from their phones, I stare
Out at the hedgerows that tumble past my window.

Late on a May Bank Holiday, white freckles
Of blossom, like a recent memory, soon
Blurred and behind us, to wilt in the June sun.
My eyes ache to focus on something so fickle,

So I turn to the fields beyond, shifting sands of green

And yellow, then clumps of semi-detached houses,
Rushing through a station where scattered crowds
Clutch at the last light from the sinking summer’s eve.

We burst through them onto pastures new, no high
Boundaries to break my eyeline and in the distance
Stood a farmhouse, cool and slow, indifferent
To the oak that had rooted in the living room and climbed

Up through the ceiling, splintering floorboards as it forced
Its way into the bedroom, where broad branches battered
At the sky and finally, upon breaking through, unanswered
In its stone tomb, flowering in defiant, lusty green. Time unlost.

I turn to you still frowning at my side, straw-haired and sun-kissed,
And smile. You reach over and hold my hand, as you always do,
And we sit in our own silence. In that way we whistle through
The fields and years together. The noise around us unmissed.

Many thanks to Mr Harris for sharing his poem: if you'd like to read more poetry on the blog, you can find Mr Anthony's poem 'The Spin' here.  We're always happy to publish creative work - just send it to any member of the English department. And if you're interested in getting more involved in creative writing at SPS, there are plenty of opportunities: Mr Harris runs the SPS creative writing society, which kicks off with its first meeting on Tuesday 21st September, at 12:40 in E7, and you can contact Mr Gardner (mtg@stpaulsschool.org.uk) if you'd like to contribute to our creative and critical writing magazines, or become part of the editorial team.  So get involved, and share your writing with a wider audience - have fun!  

Welcome back!

 It's our first post of the term - and we'd like to welcome all our regular readers, plus everyone else encountering the blog for the first time.

The blog exists to promote and celebrate all aspects of books and reading at SPS.  Anyone can contribute - if you've read something brilliant, fiction or non-fiction, and you want to share it with the world, just send us your review (spsbookblog@stpaulsschool.org.uk) and we'll happily publish it. We also publish creative writing, articles about writers and writing, plus the occasional quiz. Our Tuesday post is our regular 'book of the week' slot, so here, without further ado, is the school librarian, Mrs Cummings, with our first recommendation of the term.

The Call by Peadar O'Guilin

Reviewed by Mrs Cummings

Set in a contemporary Ireland which has been cut off from the rest of the world, this is a cursed country where at some point every teenager will vanish for three minutes and four seconds. They go to school and train aggressively in the hope of surviving the ordeal, but most are killed or return horribly damaged. 

The heroine, Nessa, is a likeable character: intelligent and strong-willed but her physical disability means she is at a disadvantage from the start. She has to try to survive both the monsters she meets when she is Called, and the threats she faces from the other people.

This is such an unsettling book. Dark, often gory, it stayed with me long after reading it. It has the pace of a thriller but it is a strange mash-up of fairy tale, fantasy and horror story. At times the violence meant I had to put it down but, in the end, I just needed to know what happened.  

The author has said this is the first of a duology - if you enjoyed Hunger Games or A Game of Thrones you will probably enjoy this. If you want a good night’s sleep, maybe skip it.

Leavers' Post

It's (almost) the end of term, and this year, sadly, SPS will be saying farewell to Mr Hager and Miss Ramsay-Overall, both of whom have been regular contributors to the book blog over the past few years. They were kind enough to take a moment to answer the book blog's leavers' questionnaire.  

• What were you reading when you were a child, and when you were a teenager?

Mr Hager: To be honest, not as much as I should have, and certainly nothing literary. It was more adventure stories or spy thrillers. I don’t remember reading ‘proper’ literature, really, until I was maybe sixteen. My A-level teachers would talk about great books they’d read and that inspired me to try them out. I remember buying The Brothers Karamazov because of a philosophy of religion lesson, and taking forever to read it, but it started me off reading quite a lot of other Russian literature from the 19th century which I really loved. I realised that books were much more interesting than pretty much anything else. I read quite a bit of Victorian literature after that, as well as more modern American stuff; Paul Auster was, I think, the first writer whose work I tried to read in its entirety when I was still at school.

Miss Ramsay-Overall: I was really big into Harry Potter (I actually still have my crisp first edition Philosopher’s Stone from 1997… I refused to bend the spine, even at 8)

A signed first edition of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, sold at auction in 2017 for £85,000
 

The Final Round by Bernard O'Keeffe

Recommended by Owen Toller

In today's post, we're delighted to feature a double-bill of writing from former members of the SPS teaching staff, as erstwhile Head of Maths Owen Toller reviews the new detective novel by Bernard O'Keeffe, ex-English Dept (and 8th form undermaster). Mr O'Keeffe has also generously taken the time to answer the book blog's questions, so read on to find out more about his detective hero, and how to write a crime novel ...

Book of the Week

The Debt to Pleasure by John Lanchester

Recommended by Rohan Nightingale

Described as '[an] [un]conventional cookbook', John Lanchester's debut novel The Debt to Pleasure focuses on the integration of a cookbook with a literary confession full of textual surprises. [SPOILER ALERT - some of these surprises are about to be revealed ...]

Book of the Week

States of Mind: Experiences at the Edge of Consciousness edited by Anna Faherty

Recommended by Theo Warshaw

Published to accompany a major exhibition at the Wellcome Collection in 2016, this collection of pieces of literature, art, theatre, and diaries brings together many experiences from ‘the edge of consciousness’.

Taking succinct extracts from these works of literature, it tells the tale of how the idea of consciousness, and all its nuances, has developed throughout time. Beginning with an introduction by Mark Haddon, author of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, the book contrasts a historic, scientific approach to consciousness, with an approach offered by artists and literary figures.

Book of the Week

A Scanner Darkly by Philip K Dick

Recommended by Joachim Sciamma

Although the adjective ‘Dickensian’ has to be awarded to a different famous novelist, the name ‘Philip K. Dick’ immediately evokes images of great dystopian fiction. 

For a genre that contains such diverse quality literature as Nineteen Eighty-Four, Brave New World, and Fahrenheit 451, prospective readers might reasonably wonder why they should place this novel at the top of their reading lists. I believe that the answer lies in the difference between each of these great fictional worlds. A Scanner Darkly does not depict the struggle of the human spirit under an impossibly oppressive and all-powerful regime, rather it tells the tale of a world much like ours, to the point that a reader may at times reasonably wonder whether science fiction is the correct genre at all. Beyond the yet to exist technological advancement of the scramble suit, not much now separates our world from Dick’s dystopia. Even his fictional drug “Substance D” or “Death” seems perhaps outdated, given that our reality has managed to concoct far more potent and dangerous substances.

Andrew Archer's illustration of the novel's recurring theme of separation from oneself (Folio Society)

What, then, is the merit of this particular dystopian world? I would argue that in depicting a version of America with a government that is unable to control its populace, Dick far more effectively explores the choices of people with relative free will under various difficult circumstances. Dystopias with all-powerful regimes are all very well, but they follow a standard arc that is difficult to escape: revelation, rebellion, discovery, and readjustment. This arc leaves little room for a diverse exploration of character and motivation beyond a propagandist appeal against communism. By giving his reader multiple options for how one can exist in his fictional state, with a selection method far closer to our own, governed by wealth and privilege rather than explicit selection, Dick demonstrates how even with relative freedom, our independent choices create our personal dystopias.

The novel’s focus on drug use also makes it seem ahead of its time. For a novel published in 1977, arguably the height of the war on drugs, it is surprising that Dick creates an at times appealing image of “Substance D”. Readers empathise with users, and non-users seem to be hypocritical, naive people willfully rejecting the truth of their world. Dick does not demonise drug use, rather he masterfully demonstrates both the ideal and the horrible in his reality. His novel does not function as a classic school-led drug awareness assembly, claiming not to aim to demonise or use scare tactics but eventually doing exactly that: his genius lies rather in his ability to demonstrate exactly why millions of educated, informed people begin using drugs despite being warned not to. Dick does not vilify them for this choice, or even call them incorrect, rather he leaves this choice to the reader. This is one of the crucial differences between Huxley’s fiction and Dick’s: Dick does not tell his reader what to think of his imaginary substance. Rather, he informs and leaves the judgement to the reader.

Andrew Marvell at 400

It's 400 years since the birth of poet, satirist, politician (and spy?) Andrew Marvell: in today's post, Hari Collins reflects on the writer's work.  

T.S. Eliot wrote that Andrew Marvell’s most characteristic quality was ‘wit’, which Eliot defined as ‘a tough reasonableness beneath the slight lyric grace’. Like most of Eliot’s judgements, this is stimulating but basically wrong. For there is something more important beneath the tough reasonableness – a universal disgust, an horror of the world and all the chaos, violence and disorder it contains. This disgust is always expressed in polite terms, which leads to a strange experience of dissonance in the reading of Marvell's poetry, akin to talking to a person who is very obviously highly repressed. Like many such people, Marvell flees into a world of perfect art, of Platonic love, elegant gardens and music, which does not contain the upsets of ordinary life – and again like many such people he finds the order and remoteness of this world as unsatisfying as the real one. Thus in the end, Marvell’s disgust becomes absolutely all-consuming, and no refuge seems possible. Marvell gives us a subtle vision of hell; beneath the reasonable Metaphysical poet is a melodramatist.

Book of the Week

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson

Recommended by Finn Lloyd

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is a staple of gonzo journalism written by Hunter S. Thompson and it highlights the impact of drug culture during the 1970s. 

It is commonly seen as Thompson’s most notorious piece of work, and was later adapted into a film, starring Johnny Depp and Benicio del Toro, which sparked as much controversy as the book itself. Thompson was known for his ability to write books on the spot such as The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved, normally regarded as the first novel to be described as ‘Gonzo journalism’ by Bill Cardoso. It is also believed that Johnny Depp based his character in the movie on his part as the protagonist in Rango!