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!