Twitter-Gate

Apparently Alice Hoffman got a little twitter-happy after reading an unfavorable review of her new book, The Story Sisters, by Roberta Silman in the Boston Globe. Unfortunately, if one puts one's art out into the world, the world will respond, and often the most classy thing to do is shut up and suck it up... Salon.com has an interesting take on this story, regarding the non-apology apology.

Brooklyn

....Well, I took Colm Toibin's new release Brooklyn from atop the pile and read it. Yep, mistake. This is well crafted account of a young Irish woman's immigrant experience in Brooklyn, NY, after the Second World War, and Toibin's perceptive portrayal of the shifting nature of familial relationships with those left behind is the best part of the novel. However, it lacks humor, and only humor or writing that is more than meticulous - that is ravishing - could save this book from being, I hate to say it, boring. My opinion is very much in the minority, I know, given Brooklyn's other reviews, but nothing frustrates me more than an immensely talented craftsman (or woman) forgetting that novels shouldn't only illuminate or educate, but entertain. 

Women and Readers first....

I suffer from a queasy concoction of guilt and desperation if I abandon a book before its conclusion, as though I were elbowing my way past the infirm to reach a lifeboat. I made it to the end of John Banville's Birchwood (1973), but I confess that I skimmed at an ever-more frantic pace through its final third. God, this book was awful....Fine writing, 'tis true, but so damned joyless... After completing Sebastian Barry's The Secret Scripture some time ago, I felt I'd had my fill of miserable Irish history, no matter how moving, so I've got what I deserve for returning to that well. Question is, what do I do with Colm Toibin's Brooklyn, perched atop my 'to read' list?...

The Orange Prize 2009

Marilynne Robinson has been awarded the Orange Prize for fiction for Home, her follow-up to the Pulitzer Prize-winning Gilead. The Sunday Times have named Robinson the world's best living writer of prose, a stretch I think, but an homage to her unwavering focus on the work itself, and her disregard of literary fashion. She has written three novels in twenty-eight years (what a nice steady pace...), with quiet plots and a strong religious and philosophical intent.  My review of Home can be found in the blog archives for Wednesday 14th January. (Photo credit: Ulf Andersen/Getty)