Tag Archives: “Mend The Living”

My top five reads of 2016

10 Jan

I was surprised to realise that I didn’t revisit any books in 2015. I don’t mean those books I read and then read to Mrs Van but old favourites. To make up for it this year I managed two: Chinua Achebe’s wonderful Things Fall Apart and Sylvester Stallone’s compelling Paradise Alley. You might think we’re looking at opposite ends of the spectrum there but actually there’s a good deal of similarity in terms of character arcs. And if you are thinking that we’re looking at opposite ends I’d urge you to be surprised and seek them both out. Good stories are good stories no matter who tells them.

I also said I was going to try and read more diversely in 2016 but in the end I don’t think I did. Gender-wise, three quarters of my reading was written by women but probably only about 10% of my reading was ‘non-white’. I think this year I should just aim to read a bit more than last year. That would be a good place to start.

I gave up on three books last year (two more than the year before). One of those books got shortlisted for the Costa First Novel award and another is, I think, currently in the Times bestseller lists. So what do I know! This is I think proof positive that you should never feel guilty about letting a book go. If it’s not working for you there will be something else that does. The only thing I’d say is don’t shoot it down for other people. There were also three that I finished but didn’t really get on with (and two of those have done very well for themselves, thank you, so again – what do I know).

But what about those I did like! Before I get into top tens and top fives let me mention Sceptre’s excellent short story collection How Much The Heart Can Hold. It’s a superb collection, well worth getting hold of and the kind of thing I’d love to see more of as a reader. It’s a great showcase for seven writers whose work you’ll likely be seeking out after reading their particular takes on the various aspects of love.

As ever, whittling down to a top ten is a difficult business. In fact, it was hard enough to get down to a top thirteen, but that doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. There were two or three absolute standout books for me (yes, I think this time a top three would actually have been quicker) so the tricky knot to unpick was which of that collection of seven or so brilliant books would creep into the top five. Laline Paull’s The Bees (which is undoubtedly Mrs Van’s favourite of the year), Shelley Harris’s Vigilante (which is probably Mrs Van’s other favourite of the year), Claire King’s heart-breaking Everything Love Is, Rebecca MacKenzie’s In A Land Of Paper Gods, Rebecca Mascull’s Song Of the Sea Maid and Janet Ellis’s singular debut The Butcher’s Hook all almost made the top five (see how I got away with a top 11 there!). I would wholeheartedly urge you to add these to your reading lists if you’ve not picked them up yet. They are all very different but they are all very, very good.

And so, in the order that I read them, here are my top five reads of 2016.

Back in January I had the great good fortune to meet up with The Chimes by Anna Smaill. It was the first book I read in 2016 and even then I knew it would have to be a very special year for it not to feature in my top 5 come the end. The world-building, the awareness of language, the characters, the story itself, it’s all supremely handled. It’s wholly accessible too. I’d have no problem recommending The Chimes to young young-adult readers. Anna was also kind enough to do a Q&A with me.

February brought a recommendation from Isabel Costello (author of Paris Mon Amour and curator of the literary sofa), Mend The Living by Maylis De Kerangal (translated by Jessica Moore). Isabel can always be relied upon to turn up an excellent French novel in translation and this was no exception. It is an extraordinarily powerful read, a forensic examination of what the heart is and what it represents. No surprise it was longlisted for the Man Booker International award.

On to July and I finally got my hands on a copy of The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry. Definitely the prettiest book this year (the cover is gorgeous) it’s also a sumptuous read. The language is delightful, and so very quiet. It’s a sibilant whisper at your ear, at once engaging and unnerving. Waterstones made it their Book Of The Year 2016.

October brought a very special book my way. It’s not actually out until April 2017 but I can’t wait to hear what everyone else makes of it. These Dividing Walls by Fran Cooper might well prove to be one of those light-the-touch-paper-and-stand-back books. I’m guessing the word prescient is going to crop up a lot too. What I can tell is that it’s excellent. The characters are delightful or infuriating or charming or terrifying, each in their turn, and the story Fran Cooper weaves in and around them is glorious. I read it to Mrs Van recently and it was great to see her head nodding or shaking in all the same places as mine  did, and that page 183 had the same effect on her too.

November finally brought me round to We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler, a book I’d been aware of for a while. The thing I was most glad about is that I’d managed to bypass all the hype that surrounded this book and its twist so that, when the twist came it brought with it all the impact the author surely intended. It’s one of those moments that acts like a fillet knife, peeling the book’s flesh all the way back to the bone so you can’t help but re-examine it. It’s not all about the twist though. The story is compelling and heart-breaking, the language is sublime, the way the whole novel hangs together is truly a thing to behold. It’s quite masterful.

 

 

Five very different novels this time, though each is expertly constructed and skilfully told. There is no doubt you’re in safe hands as a reader and that’s a luxury that really allows you to inhabit the stories, to get up close and feel the things these characters feel. Here’s to more of this in 2017!

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Van has finished reading…Mend The Living by Maylis De Kerangal (translated by Jessica Moore)

12 Feb

I can always rely on Isabel Costello to recommend an astounding book in translation. Maylis De Kerangal’s Mend The Living, translated by Jessica Moore, is no exception. It tells the story of a heart, of a day in the life of twenty-year-old Simon Limbeau who loves to surf, of what moves him and what makes him who he is, of his family and friends, his lover, of the people he will meet this day as yet unknown, encounters at this point inconceivable.

Before it begins there is a simple four-word quote: my heart is full. It’s a quote that passes by, in the way these quotes tend to, and is quickly swept aside by the torrent of Maylis’s prose. But how true it is. I think there should be a little note after the last page to go back and remind yourself of this quote, to close your eyes and look inward and reach for the throb of your own heart. The book opens, ‘What it is, Simon Limbeau’s heart… no one really knows;’ and you might refute this, you might roll out the anatomy lesson, the science, the metaphors that explain the machine, but the truth in Maylis’s words remains. Despite knowing the heart is not our emotional seat it’s still the part we reach for isn’t it, when we’re wounded by love. It’s still where we feel the ache when something we can’t process or battle scoops us out. It’s still the currency of what we feel, the go-to image we parade on our sleeves.

Though it’s essentially Simon’s story, it’s not from Simon’s point of view that we see it. In fact it doesn’t feel as though there is a narrator, rather that we are a kind of camera witnessing events unfold, omniscient and unnoticed. To say it like this makes it sound distant but the opposite is true. Its proximity is a closeness that I’m hard-pressed to recall in another third-person novel. I was reminded of the complicity of the first person plural in Jon McGregor’s Even The Dogs. As a consequence the characters of the novel come through in a very different way. It’s not their thoughts or their emotional responses per se that show us who they are but their manner, their frames of reference. It’s as though we’re all riding the wave, the stark inevitability of what will pass unavoidable and there is nothing else to do but go through the motions, hold on.

The language adds to this sense. Okay, you may need a dictionary from time to time (Maylis is clearly a fan of uncommon language) but that won’t impede the feel of the reading. There were moments I could’ve imagined I was reading a prose poem. The book feels larger than its 240-odd pages, like the full heart of that opening quote, and this I think is down to the relentless nature of the prose. It comes right at you. There’s a numbness, a sense of detachment despite that proximity but don’t imagine that means it’s devoid of emotion. Rather it’s the sense that it’s all too much, that the body regulates by shutting out and that in turn brings us a step closer to the players. There’s genuine violence in Maylis’s words. It’s a touching experience, visceral sometimes but very moving.

We should read more works in translation. It’s not always a guarantee that you’ll get something different but at the very least it’s likely to introduce a perspective you don’t meet every day. With Maylis de Karangal’s Mend The Living I think I can safely say that you will get something you’re not used to. Her approach is striking in its intensity. It’s a very deep, very emotional and very enjoyable read.

 

Mend The Living was published by MacLehose Press (Quercus) on 11th February 2016 ISBN:9780857053879

I couldn’t find Maylis online (let me know if you know where to find her and I’ll add a link)

You can find Jessica Moore on her website www.jessicamoore.ca