Wool Omnibus - Hugh Howey

Wool Omnibus - Hugh Howey

When I was 12, I read "Children of the Dust" by Louise Lawrence. It was the late 1980s and the Cold War was winding down, but the novel had a profound effect on me. I think it was my first true realisation of the wrongs that human beings can do to one another with nuclear weapons. Since then I have always been fascinated by post-apocalyptic and dystopian novels and movies. While I love to read fiction for the escapism aspect, these types of stories have a different attraction. They tend to remind me that people and societies can use their intelligence and imaginations to invent amazing technologies but can get so lost on their pathway through life that they somehow become compelled to use those technologies to do indescribable things to the world. 

I could not put the Wool Omnibus down. I had to suspend disbelief at first, as I do think humans are inherently interested in exploring beyond their horizons and I had difficulty relating to a society of people who were prepared to live their lives in an underground silo, no matter how sophisticated. However, as the story moved on and more details emerged about the other silos and the social engineering that led the silo families to submit to their leaders, I was more and more drawn in and found the narrative to take on a more believable aspect. The heroine Juliette is a fantastic character who champions the direction of the storyline and inspires people to think beyond the boundaries imposed on them. The bad guy, Bernard, is eminently unlikeable from the outset, but his character is fleshed out towards the end of the omnibus as he exposes some of his motivations for action and then, while still a disagreeable character, I was more able to understand him. Other sympathetic characters appear throughout and continue to draw the reader through the development of the story. 

Overall, I found the Wool Omnibus to be suspenseful, exciting and an all round cracking story. I can't wait to read the rest of the trilogy.

March - Geraldine Brooks

Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women" revolves around the experiences of four daughters whose father is away for a year at the US Civil War. This famous novel inspired Brooks to imagine the concurrent experiences of their father, who is largely absent from Alcott's story. 

It was a wonderful idea, and well-executed. I can't imagine what effort went into researching this richly detailed narrative. I know very little about the Civil War and was fascinated by Brooks' observations on abolitionism, the underground railroad and the indescribable cruelties visited upon slaves at that time. The thing that didn't ring true for me about this book was Mr March. As a matter of fact, I found his tortured martyrdom almost unbearable at times. I was able to relate to Mrs March's somewhat flawed but genuine character so much more easily, and the parts of the novel focalised from her point of view resonated most strongly with me. 

Overall I enjoyed this novel, but didn't love it the way I loved People of the Book and Caleb's Crossing. Nonetheless it inspired me to unearth my fondly dog-eared copy of "Little Women" so that I can revisit it and see if I love it as much as I did as a child.

Wanting - Richard Flanagan

I am not sure why, but I am drawn to novels set in Tasmania, both contemporary (Cate Kennedy's "The World Beneath", which I loved) and historical. "Wanting" falls into the latter category and showcases Flanagan's affinity for Tasmania and its landscape. His treatment of the fractured relationship between European settlers and the dwindling indigenous population was novel and (perhaps because of that) very confronting. The theme of human desires emerged strongly through the interweaving of Methinna and Lady Jane's stories, and provided an interesting comment on the social constraints of the 19th century (related to gender and race) that prevented Lady Jane from expressing her heart's true yearning. 

I did not really enjoy the juxtaposition of the Dickens and Van Diemen's land story-lines. I felt the link was too tenuous and to me the Dickens chapters felt contrived and generally like an interruption of the more interesting tale set in Australia. Nevertheless, the novel gave me a great deal of pause for thought and made me feel very sad.

Drunk Mom: A Memoir - Jowita Bydlowska

I've always thought that human behaviour exists on a sort of continuum, and certain compulsions are more extreme in some people than in others. In that way, I felt I could relate to many of the urges to drink that Bydlowska describes in this very personal memoir. I suppose in my case, the impulse (which seems overwhelming sometimes) to have a few glasses of wine after work might be overcome by my desire to get to bed, watch TV, read a book or whatever. In hers, the compulsion to drink is so overwhelming that she drinks until she passes out, and so irresistible that it overcomes even her obvious love for her baby boy and her partner. Although I was filled with pity for her at some points and disgust at others, I still felt that I could understand her internal debates about entering liquor stores, knowing from the outset that the debate was fruitless as she was always going to capitulate in the end. I am not an alcoholic by any means, but I have had this debate with myself during periods where alcohol seemed an important comfort, with the same outcome.

At times Bydlowska's apparent sense of superiority over the people who try to help her (evidenced in her belittling and trivialisation of various characters in her life - her partner, counsellors, other recovering addicts) was grating. It was never entirely clear to me whether she recognised how that smugness, which I have definitely seen in other addicts, might come across, or whether she realised that she was not really in a position to judge those people as being somehow less than herself. Certainly, she doesn't gloss over some of the uglier aspects of her own story, so it seems that she is absolutely aware of how her addiction caused her to lose all sense of herself and any shred of dignity that she might have once had.

It must have been very painful to write a book like this and maintain sobriety. In a former life, I was a drug counsellor myself, and I can remember how very agitated some clients became just discussing their desire to use their substance of choice. I can't imagine how much more intense that feeling of agitation would be while immersing oneself in actually dissecting those feelings and recounting them in such a personal narrative. I thought it was well-written. The use of present tense added to the sense of personal intimacy. Overall, I found it compelling.

Love in a Cold Climate - Nancy Mitford

I realise now that I should probably have read The Pursuit of Love first, which was mentioned to me just before I started, but as I already had Love in a Cold Climate out of the library I charged ahead anyway. I don't think it will matter too much in the end, as I absolutely loved this novel.

The tale is narrated by Fanny Wincham, newly wed to an Oxford don, who has had an upper class upbringing.  Fanny seems to be a little more open-minded than her peers, perhaps due to the somewhat eccentric relatives by whom she has been raised. Fanny tells all regarding her relations with the Montdore family and their various hangers-on.  I loved Fanny's observations and attitude to living, and think I could have been great friends with her if she were a real person. It seems to me that if a book can generate that depth of feeling, it is quite an accolade for the author.

Each of the characters is beautifully drawn. The novel is full of humour.  I especially loved Uncle Matthew's quirks and Jassy and Victoria's gushing dialogues. I adored the language and style of writing. The story is fairly fast paced and I found it difficult to drag myself away from it. Some of the reflections on the social mores of the time were interesting (chiefly being the position of women in society and the ongoing differences between the social classes even as WWII approached).  Having said that I understand the novel to have been set in the late 1930s, and I did find it strange that there was no mention at all of the approaching conflict with Germany (in fact at one point one of the characters expresses a preference for Germany over France) nor of the sense of impending doom that must surely have been hanging over England at that time.  I find it hard to believe that the upper classes were totally buffered from that. I understand that at least one of Mitford's sisters was considered to be a friend of Hitler during the 1930s, but as the novel was published in 1949, it seems odd that it could not  have been addressed more directly. 

But overall, I just loved it for the story. I'll be reading The Pursuit of Love and probably Don't Tell Alfred, as I would like to know more about how Fanny's life turns out. And even though many of the characters could only be described as shallow narcissistic snobs, I can't help but wish that by some lucky accident I had been born an aristocrat myself.