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I enjoy how some poetry collections can give an impressionistic feel for an individual's life. Rachel Long's poems in her debut collection “My Darling from the Lions” link hands to form a portrait of its narrator experience. The poems alternate between quiet moments of introspection and distinct observations about a series of spirited personalities. But there is also a self-consciousness where the narrator is aware of being perceived and interpreted. A series of short poems all labelled 'Open' describe the narrator's experience in a state of sleep or repose where different people around her make the same or similar observations. This conveys something so striking about experience as we feel it as opposed to how others see us inhabiting the world from the outside. 

Some poems such as 'Helena', 'Red Hoover', 'Bloodlines' and 'Danielle's Dad' are more narrative based as they are clearly rooted in a particular time and place and convey a specific experience. Others are somewhat more abstract in how they express a mood or a subtle moment of realization or transformation. The striking poem '8' describes the ritualized labour of being cleansed as a woman “for men to crawl out and in” so there's a haunting sense of how religion and maternal forces claim and prepare young female bodies for the patriarchy. Another perspective on emerging female sexuality is given in the poem 'Red Roof' which feels almost taboo with its frank portrayal of young girls exploring their own and each others' genitals. Existing somewhere out of time is the object of 'The Musical Box' and this poem beautifully expresses the experience and emotions of people in our lives when they were younger and before we were born. The poem 'And then there was the time I got into a fight' is charged with indignation as children at a school don't believe the man picking the narrator up is her father. Many of the poems are also imbued with a sly sense of humour and this is most strongly expressed in the satirical poem 'The Sharks and Victoria Beckham'.

Some of the poems I liked the most describes unexpected moments of tenderness such as 'Car Sweetness' where parents are caught in a rare moment of romantic connection touching each others' hands. I also enjoyed how the narrator obtains a glimpse into her mother's interior life when a private diary is uncovered in the poem 'Inside'. This is quite a different look at the woman who “combs her auburn 'fro up high” as glimpsed in another poem 'Orb'. Together these poems express a curiosity and wonder about people close to us as we collect bits and pieces of their complex existence. The poems in this book lay these observations out like a precious collection to admire and contemplate.

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AuthorEric Karl Anderson
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Like many people recently I've been observing the rise of populism and the continuing deadly effects of racial conflict (especially in the USA) with anger, frustration and sorrow. 'Why is this still happening?' is a question I continuously ask myself and seek answers for by reading a variety of journalists and listening to social commentators. I was aware of many of the historic reasons which would allow hierarchies and systems of injustice to remain in place, but reading Isabel Wilkerson's “Caste” has better equipped me with a framework, understanding and language with which to comprehend why society continues to experience such strident conflict. In this extensive, well-researched and compulsively-readable study the Pulitzer Prize winning journalist clearly defines the difference between racism and the caste system at the heart of American society by drawing parallels with the examples of Nazi Germany and the long-established caste system in India. In doing so, she powerfully describes the way artificial hierarchies in any society create a vicious imbalance of power that leads to the subjugation of a certain segment of the population. 

Wilkerson illustrates her points with many examples (both personal and well-documented historic cases) that bring her arguments to life and explain why progressive legislation alone can't dispel with persistent racism. Caste is a psychology that's been bred into the national identity leading to countless examples of injustice which have long-term detrimental effects for every member of our society. Although it shouldn't have surprised me, I was startled to learn how the Reichstag looked to codified racism in America to inform the anti-Jewish legislation created in their 1935 “Party Rally of Freedom” meeting in Nuremberg. The author also details many specific examples of how the caste systems in different nations has led to the dehumanization or deaths of individuals designated to be of lower caste. I felt a furious sympathy reading about the memories Wilkerson recounts where she as a woman of African American heritage has been slighted or discriminated against because of her position in the caste system – especially as someone who frequently inhabits spaces traditionally designated for the dominant caste. It reminded me of the importance of speaking up when witnessing examples of injustice and to examine more closely my own unconscious biases as a product of the caste system.

Some people try to explain or dismiss specific examples of racism as unfortunate isolated cases. For instance, it's frequently claimed that the many cases of US police officers using extreme force against unarmed black men are simply due to the actions of a few “bad apples”. Rather than trying to simplify these violations as extreme cases of racism, Wilkerson's book shows how it's important to understand that these actions are a consequence of the way people have been programmed to think and act within their caste. The primary tenets of caste are enumerated over a number of sections to show exactly how it functions and why it's so difficult to dispense with this system once it's in place. It's extremely enlightening how the author comprehensively shows the way everyone in society is subjected to this mindset and how we can only progress out of it by making heart-to-heart connections with people outside our designated caste rather than resorting to more violence.

I've read several reader reviews which criticise this book for its liberal political bias. This is not a study standing outside of a particular time and place. Rather, Wilkerson situates her arguments and her story in where we are here and now in Trump's presidency with the COVID-19 virus running rampant throughout America. The country is in turmoil and, as usual, people at the lower end of the caste system are struggling the most. Wilkerson uses objective facts and clearly-researched social analysis to delineate why we are in this position. It's much larger than any single election or figurehead. It's about working on a personal and political level to try to dispense with the caste system we're all unknowingly trapped within.

Since we're nearing the end of the year, I always enjoy looking at the 'best books of the year' and this book has appeared on multiple lists including from Publisher's Weekly and Time Magazine. I'm glad this encouraged me to pick up Wilkerson's tremendous study because I don't read that much nonfiction and it's given me such a different perspective on an important issue.

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AuthorEric Karl Anderson
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Several months ago I posted about being a judge for this year's Costa Book Awards in the First Novel category and I've been aching to talk about all the great books I've been reading. Today I am thrilled to finally announce our shortlist! I've read so many debut novels in the past few months. Judging a book prize is like a full time job – although obviously I enjoy reading as much as possible so it's really a labour of love and it was such a pleasure discovering so many new voices amongst the submitted books. It was also wonderful conferring with my fellow judges novelist Jill Dawson and Debbie James, owner and manager of Kibworth Books. I wish I could gossip about heated arguments and falling out with each other, but honestly we got along brilliantly. They are such intelligent and sympathetic readers that it was really a joy discussing a huge range of novels with them. Given the circumstances we couldn't meet in person but we spoke for multiple hours over video call to discuss an incredible range of novels. Judges always say this, but it was honestly such a difficult decision when it came down to selecting certain books over others. I'm excited and proud to reveal the four novels we selected for the shortlist. 

The novels are “Big Girl, Small Town” by Michelle Gallen, “The Family Tree” by Sairish Hussain, “Love After Love” by Ingrid Persaud and “All the Water in the World” by Karen Raney.

We were absolutely unanimous in these choices. After having such an in-depth conversation about so many books we decided the best way to pick the shortlist was to each create a pile of four books off camera which we'd reveal to each other simultaneously. We did this and all three of us had picked the same four novels. So that decided it! I know there's often a lot of politics around book prizes and speculation about favour being shown to certain types of books, but we honestly picked these because of the strength of the writing and the power of their storytelling. Reading each of these four novels was a completely absorbing experience and I'd enthusiastically give them to any friend, family member or stranger to read.

You know I love following book awards. Since there are different categories for the Costas I get the best of both worlds with this prize as I've got to be a judge but I'm also delighted to see what books have been listed in the other categories. The full list has been published on the Costa Book Awards' website but I am especially thrilled to see Monique Roffey's novel “The Mermaid of Black Conch” shortlisted for the Novel Award. It's one of my favourite books that I've read this year and it's fantastic to see it receive this recognition. There are many on the other shortlists I'm eager to read over the Winter holidays including books by Susanna Clarke, Tim Finch, Julian Barnes, Rachel Clarke, Lee Lawrence, Rachel Long and others.

The winners in each category will be announced on January 4th. Also, between each category winner an overall winner will be announced on January 26th. Last year's overall winner “The Volunteer” by Jack Fairweather was an incredibly powerful true story about the resistance hero who infiltrated Auschwitz. So I'm excited to see which book is selected for this year's prize. In the meantime, I'm so excited to follow discussions about the shortlists and reader reactions to the First Novel category in particular. I hope you love reading them as much as I did. Let me know what you think in the comments if you've read any of these books or if you're interested in reading them. 

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When I was growing up one of my favourite parts of visiting a big city was going to that city's Chinatown. I don't think I ever necessarily felt I was getting an “authentic” Chinese experience but I enjoyed the food, confectionary and atmosphere. It wasn't until I read the author Madeline Thien's article 'Farewell to the fairy palace: are Chinatowns obsolete?' that I started thinking more complexly about these physical locations and how their “deliberately exoticised” architecture is more for tourists rather than its residents. Also, Chinatowns' “alleyways and buildings are the physical evidence of a discriminatory history”. The development, appearance and history of these locations is something the journalist Bonnie Tsui has written about extensively. Thien refers to Tsui's writing in that article and Charles Yu repeatedly quotes her in his novel “Interior Chinatown”. The story creatively and entertainingly lifts the lid not only on a location, but the hearts and minds of its characters whose sense of self is often occluded by stereotypes and (literally) the roles they are forced to play. 

The novel takes the form of a script for a TV drama cop show called “Black and White” that's set in the Golden Palace restaurant in Chinatown. Our hero is Willis Wu, but he is not the hero of this show. Rather he's an extra often relegated to being the “Generic Asian Man” in the background. He has a clear idea of the series of roles he hopes to obtain as a stepladder to achieving what he sees as the supreme part of “Kung Fu Guy”. That this is the ultimate he can aspire to says a lot about the limited ways a Western audience is prepared to see Asian actors in their TV shows and, by extension, in Western society itself. But this doesn't come across in a didactic way. Rather, Willis' aspirations are so sincere that he's an extremely endearing character who becomes more conflicted, layered and complex as we follow his journey and bungled attempts to become the lead in a show whose inherent structure won't ever allow him this status.

Although it doesn't use a conventional form of narrative this novel is very easy to read because it plays upon generic notions we're all familiar with from watching films and television. It's very funny because we can anticipate the characters' scripted response to a situation, but as the story progresses this humour becomes laced with the melancholy and frustration of individuals who are locked into playing certain roles. There's almost a sci-fi quality to the novel's structure in that reality melds into this TV drama so that it almost feels like Willis is a character in a video game repeatedly playing out set scenarios in the valiant hope of becoming the victor. At the same time we get the backstories of various other people in Willis' life. Even if these individuals have achieved the ultimate roles available to them age soon relegates them to debased parts. Distinctions are also made between the discriminatory experiences felt by different minority groups. Gradually figures emerge who help Willis understand that he shouldn't limit his expectations for who he can become.

The overall tone of this novel is humorous and clever, but the author doesn't shirk from listing historical incidents where legislature in the US excluded Asian people from immigrating to and owning property in the country. It not only makes the reader reassess their understanding of American history but also their personal experience of how Asian culture and identity has been packaged for Western consumption. It definitely made me think about the television and movies I watched growing up where Asian actors were more often cast to play stereotypes rather than fully rounded characters. I'm glad this novel recently won the National Book Award as its clear concept is so expertly built into a fully engaging story, but the nuance and complexity of what it really says has a moving and haunting effect.

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AuthorEric Karl Anderson
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You'd normally think of the time leading up to a wedding as a period of nervous excitement filled with saccharine feeling, but for the unnamed Bride who narrates the novel “Parakeet” by Marie-Helene Bertino it transforms into a surreal journey of self-discovery. She's staying in a luxury inn that is on (not in) Long Island and is meant to be relaxing while making the final preparations for the big day. But in her bedroom she encounters her dead grandmother who appears to her as a parakeet. The bird warns the Bride not to get married and seek out her estranged brother before defecating all over and ruining her wedding dress. There follows a series of increasingly bizarre and unsettling encounters which force the Bride to confront her difficult family and her own traumatic past. 

This story is both disturbing and comical in the absurd way that time, space and identity become distorted. Corridors and elevators warp and deliver the Bride into strange new areas. People she encounters are sometimes like a troubling mirror image and other times embody something significant about the Bride's past. A woman she buys a replacement second-hand wedding dress from bears a marked resemblance to her. She witnesses the production of a play written by her brother which recreates an altered version of her past. The spirit of her living mother seems to take possession of her body at one point. Another wedding plays out adjacent to her own in the same venue. Yet, while these experiences are undeniably odd, the narrator navigates them as if she's accustomed to a haunted existence. Since living through a violent tragedy she's discovered “The mean trick of trauma is that like a play it has no past tense. It is always happening.” She's trapped in a kind of hellish present where the past doesn't allow her to progress in ways that are either expected or desired.

Bertino imaginatively and poignantly describes the Bride's process of finding the willpower to enter a self-determined future. Her use of language is so playful and self-consciously literary. She makes references at several points to other absurdist literature describing how “Any Beckett play I've managed to wander into is odd weather that will pass” or “Every elevator in this building is a Borgesian nightmare.” It's as if the narrator's consciousness is so imbued with this sensibility it's entirely infected her worldview. I enjoyed the offbeat descriptions she makes to show how the Bride translates impressions of the world. When her mother speaks she feels “Her tone is egg whites whipped to stiff peaks.” There's an unsettling tension between the Bride and other people. She struggles to understand other people just as they struggle to understand her and her actions or inaction.

While all this was enjoyable and oftentimes fascinating, sometimes the narrative became too disorientating for me. Following the Bride's skewed impressions of her surroundings I felt like I was constantly trying to find my footing. This is no doubt purposeful because we become so ensconced in her mental process that it's hard to figure out where we are physically located in some scenes. So even though this is a relatively short novel it takes patience and time to read. Of course, that's not necessarily a bad thing if you're looking for an enticingly complex puzzle of a story. It's opaqueness is often a reflection of the narrator's state of mind. She's constantly distracted so that a florist is continuously disappointed when the Bride doesn't show up to approve the floral arrangements for her wedding. This kind of repetition and the bewilderment of characters in the background is comic but also makes her estrangement feel all the more powerful. Crucially, the meaningful relationship she reforms with her sibling who turns out to be transgendered acts as an important grounding force to help this Bride escape the unwanted reality she's been lulled into wedding. Overall, I enjoyed and admired this smart and unique story.

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Another year of the Booker Prize and another year where the result has utterly surprised me! But this time I am absolutely thrilled with the judges' decision. After closely following the International Booker Prize earlier this year and the book I liked least on the list “The Discomfort of Evening” won I lost confidence in my ability to predict Booker winners. Added to that was the fact that half of the main Booker Prize shortlist this year didn't work for me so I had resigned myself to the idea that the judges' tastes don't align with my own. So I held little hope that my two favourites on the list “Burnt Sugar” and “Shuggie Bain” held a chance of winning. But I was wrong. Douglas Stuart's debut novel has won! 

This brilliantly moving book is based on Stuart's own experience of a Glasgow childhood marked by poverty and addiction. Yet it portrays both the environment and its people in such a warm-hearted and dynamic way that he's really brought this time period and region to life. Douglas Stuart also has the distinction of being the second Scot to ever win this prize. The first was James Kelman in 1994. Coincidentally, just earlier this week “Shuggie Bain” was also shortlisted for the National Book Awards but it lost out to “Interior Chinatown” by Charles Yu.

Since a physical ceremony wasn't possible this year, the announcement was made online in a “ceremony without walls” last night. I filmed a live reaction video to this and participated in a press interview with Stuart afterwards where I got to ask him a question. You can watch this here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dxu5dYhyQFY

It was wonderful to hear from chair of judges Margaret Busby that the judges' decision was unanimous. And it was also very exciting to hear that Stuart is almost finished completing his second novel also set in Glasgow which will be called “Loch Awe”.

Have you read “Shuggie Bain” or are you interested in reading it? What do you think of this year's result?

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Given the urgency of the climate crisis and the difficulties of changing our way of living to save the planet, it's no wonder that we can easily envision a time when nature has been plundered of its resources and humans are scrambling to survive. Diane Cook dramatises this conflict in “The New Wilderness” not by showing the fall of society but by presenting a group of people who've reverted to a nomadic life where survival is truly a day to day struggle. The majority of the population lives in an overpopulated and smoggy city where the air is so toxic children are often seriously ill. Because Bea's five year old daughter Agnes frequently coughed up blood and the doctors had no way of treating her, this mother and her partner Glen took the radical step to form a group of volunteers to venture out into the rural landscape which had been abandoned due to pollution. But this experiment is strictly regulated by the government and its rangers who study and regulate their existence. They're not allowed to settle in any location or leave any physical impact on the rewilding of the environment. The novel begins at a point where this group has been struggling to navigate this wilderness for some time and life has come to mean very little beyond the animal instinct to survive. 

The trouble I had with this story is that I found it hard to buy into the structure and workings of its society. Dystopian fiction must build a plausible scenario through which its drama can proceed. Even if this isn't explicitly laid out there have to be logical indications of how society has come to this point. The negative impact humans are having on the environment is very real and with urban populations becoming so dense I can see why the author has set her novel up this way. But I struggled to get a sense for how society was being governed, the ways in which the wilderness was being so strictly regulated and why the volunteer group adhered to their rules. Of course, one of the elements of suspense is that there is a sinister government plan occurring in the background but I just didn't believe in the overall structure of how this society had come to operate. So I found it a challenge to emotionally invest in the plot or its characters. I also felt the plodding detail of their day to day lives wasn't engaging enough to make me feel the desperation and tension of their situation. There were occasionally moving scenes between the characters and creative observations about the hidden workings of the natural world, but overall the novel felt a little overlong and was a bit of a slog to get through.

I enjoyed the complicated way the story portrays motherhood. I felt the tension of Bea's genuine love for her daughter combined with the sometimes tedious obligations of it: “motherhood felt like a heavy coat she was compelled to put on each day no matter the weather.” The author shows the compelling and heart wrenching ways this parent-child bond is warped by the urgency of their circumstances. The story actually begins with Bea having a miscarriage. This grief must instantly be internalized because of pressing practical concerns and there is an emotional toll for this necessity. The same is true in how she relates to her daughter where the concept and practice of protecting one's child takes on a very different meaning. I became fascinated and felt engaged with the way that her daughter Agnes grows, develops and processes emotion herself. But it takes some time in the narrative to get to this point and after a while it didn't continue to strongly hold my interest. Overall I felt the impact of this novel's message got lost in a lack of clarity about this society's construction. So I was left questioning the author's creative choices rather than pondering the important issues at the heart of this book.

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AuthorEric Karl Anderson
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Can a child ever really know their mother and can a mother ever really know her child? Though we're made to feel there should be a natural, inextricable bond here it's seldom ever so simple. It certainly isn't for Antara, the narrator of Avni Doshi's heart-aching and intensely thoughtful novel “Burnt Sugar”. As an adult she finds herself in the tricky situation of caring for her mother Tara who is showing signs of dementia. But Antara seldom felt cared for as a child when her mother abandoned her unhappy arranged marriage, joined a religious commune, had a passionate affair with an unpredictable artist and spent some time living as a beggar on the street. Given their turbulent history together, Antara naturally feels ambivalent about being her mother's carer and confesses in the novel's opening line “I would be lying if I said my mother's misery has never given me pleasure.” Painful emotions run deep throughout this narrative where Antara is haunted by her past and because of this burden struggles to negotiate her relationships with her husband Dilip, her often absent father and her mother in law. I felt intensely involved in this novel which asks poignant questions about the bonds of family and the nature of memory.

I appreciate how this tense mother-daughter relationship becomes deeper and more complex as the novel progresses. It's easy at first to label Tara as a villainous “bad mother” but, as her daughter probes into the past and considers the strain of familial expectations and society, Tara's rebelliousness feels in some ways justified. That's not to ignore the abuse Antara sustains, but it shows how there are many factors at play. Nor should Antara's point of view be taken as the whole truth since we as readers only see things through her perspective. I like how Doshi incorporates a mystery through the novel concerning a portrait of an anonymous man. As an artist Antara reproduces this figure in a series of drawings until he bears little resemblance to the original, but the question of who he is eventually becomes a crucial factor between the mother and daughter.

Antara's artwork is also one of the many intriguing ways in which this story approaches the question of memory. Like many people, Antara's touchstone to the past is through photographs which she peruses but the real circumstances of this history remain semi-clouded. One of Tara's doctors comments to the daughter how “memory is a work in progress. It's always being reconstructed.” Tara's perspective may be unreliable because she might be experiencing dementia, but Antara's memories seem to clash with the recollections of others at some crucial points. The question of who to trust remains throughout the novel. But Antara's trauma is clear and it's moving the way Doshi writes about how Antara learned to mentally distance herself from the present and her methods of self-preservation: “I disown so I can never be disowned.” This might ensure her survival but, of course, the tragedy is that relationships can't function if there isn't a healthy degree of trust.

As I get older I sometimes mull over how my childhood and upbringing have moulded my personality. Naturally I can dwell on the ways I might have been hurt or neglected at various points, but I also try to question how honest I am with myself about the memories that I mull over. This is difficult to do. No one can have a perfect childhood and I appreciate how this novel shows how “Humans grow up flagrantly, messily and no one was afforded the choice of looking away.” If we allow ourselves a degree of self-scrutiny we must own how we were participants rather than simply a victim of our past experiences. It was heartrending following Antara's journey in confronting her mother about the past, but it's even more touching how the narrator must radically confront herself in order to move forward.

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AuthorEric Karl Anderson
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So much current political discourse is thrashed out online and on social media that it can feel like an overwhelming cacophony. This arena which I'd idealistically like to imagine to be a forum for debate and exchange more often becomes a battleground where opposing sides become even more entrenched in feelings of righteousness. So when I took up the challenge from the Trollope Society to read my first novel by this writer and the first novel in Trollope's Barsetshire series I didn't anticipate the extreme pleasure I'd find in the more mild-mannered and reasonable moral, social and political debate as conducted in Trollope's fictional cathedral town of Barchester. The Rev. Septimus Harding is the warden of a charity, a role which comes with a generous income. John Bold is an idealistic young surgeon and reformer who calls into question whether the wardenship is really entitled to the funds which were primarily intended for the residents of the charitable hospital. However, Bold also has a romantic interest in Harding's daughter Eleanor. Tensions run high when a newspaper article comes out accusing Harding of retaining the charity's funds for himself out of greedy self interest. 

If this argument were to play out today there would likely be a public pile on Mr Harding until he was shamed into resigning from his role. Mr Harding would be a figure of ridicule turned into a meme. He would be “cancelled”. However, in Trollope's world things play out very differently. Through self-scrutiny on the part of Mr Harding and an entreaty to Mr Bold on the part of Eleanor, the accused and the accuser switch positions on the matter. This is not only a comic inversion of the central drama in this story, but it also shows the essential good nature of people who are receptive to critique and are willing to reconsider their views. What instantly endeared me to Trollope's writing was that (though his characters might possess certain prejudices) they feel well-rounded and realistic like neighbours. Their inner sense of justice is more forcefully applied to how they themselves interact with society rather than projecting their rigid idealism onto the rest of the world. Injustice is recognized and, indeed, the salary the warden receives is probably far more than the original founder of the charity ever intended, but there is also a recognition of the complexity of how communities work and the overall impact from implementing rapid change.

This makes “The Warden” a more quiet and contemplative novel than might even be found amongst Trollope's contemporaries. Although the misuse of charitable funds was a contentious issue in the mid-19th century because there were few governmental programs to deal with poverty, Trollope's central social issue is more localised and humble compared to the grand subjects being presented in much of Charles Dickens' fiction. Nor is Trollope inclined to describe his characters in language which demarcates whether they were essentially “good” or “bad” in nature as Dickens relentlessly does in his fiction. Trollope even hilariously satirizes Dickens in this novel when at one point a character amuses himself with a book by an author called Mr Popular Sentiment. Trollope describes how “Mr Sentiment is certainly a very powerful man, and perhaps not the less so that his good poor people are so very good; his hard rich people so very hard; and the genuinely honest so very honest.” This playfully pokes fun at the way there is little moral ambiguity among Dickens' characters and how to describe them in such strident terms diminishes the truly complex nature of humanity. 

Similar to other novels of the 19th century, Trollope as author is heavy-handed in the way he steers the narrative at certain points. However, I also found this quite enjoyable. Trollope is prone to interjecting his own opinions on the characters in the story. One section hilariously describes a large family in much detail, but the author repeatedly interjects how they are essentially dull. Not only does Trollope make his prejudices about certain characters known, but he also speculates on his readership of the ladies or “middle-aged bachelor” who might be reading these pages. It's amusing how this makes the author himself into a kind of character rather than being an unseen and entirely objective god behind the story. 

There's also a profuse amount of delightful detail about the period contained in the “The Warden”. Trollope describes the way this society is ordered and how finance works as well as details of what you might see in a particular kind of individual's house or walking down the street. There's a wonderful chapter titled 'A Long Day in London' when Mr Harding is visiting the capital and finds ways to occupy himself until his scheduled meeting. We follow his journey along The Strand up to Westminster Abbey as he views various shops and finds his meals. Rather than agonize over the monumental decision he's made, Mr Harding seeks soft contentment in humble pleasures observing “What on earth could be more luxurious than a sofa, a book and a cup of coffee?” This epitomizes the way this writing could be labelled as “cozy fiction” but at the moment I really appreciate the respite from the modern world that this book offered. There's also something admirable about the way the novelist recognizes the dignity and heart in all his characters as they strive to do what's right. I'm greatly looking forward to reading more of the novels in this series of books and other novels by Trollope.

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I always enjoy seeing what books are shortlisted for the annual Sunday Times/University of Warwick Young Writer of the Year Award. It gives a snapshot of some of the most exciting emerging British and Irish literary talent. To be eligible, writers need to be 35 or under. Judges for this year's prize include the writers Sebastian Faulks, Tessa Hadley and Kit de Waal. Normally only four authors are listed for the prize, but this year the judges are highlighting five! There are two novels, a memoir and two books of poetry. 

I'm very happy to see Jay Bernard's moving collection “Surge” on the list as it was one of my favourite books that I read last year. These dynamic multi-voiced poems are a response to the New Cross fire of 1981, in which thirteen young black people were killed. I also loved recently reading Naoise Dolan's first novel “Exciting Times”. Dolan was included in the Guardian's '10 Best Debut Novelists of 2020' list in January. The novel brilliantly and hilariously describes a wayward young Irish woman living abroad in Hong Kong who gets mixed up in a complicated love triangle.

I'm very eager to read Sean Hewitt's book as I enjoyed reading his poetry pamphlet “Lantern” last year. The poetry in “Tongues of Fire” contains prayers, hymns, vespers, incantations and longer poems that describe experiences of sex, grief and loss. Earlier this year, I started reading Marina Kemp's debut novel “Nightingale” and kept meaning to go back and finish it. So it being listed for this prize is a great prompt to return to it. The story concerns a young woman who leaves Paris to become a nurse for a tempestuous old man in a sleepy French village. Finally, Catherine Cho's memoir sounds fascinating and powerful as it recounts her experiences on a psychiatric ward after being diagnosed as having a rare form of postpartum psychosis.

The winner will be announced in a digital ceremony on December 10th. Let me know if you've read any of the books on this shortlist or if you're keen to now. 

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Now that we're facing a Winter with even more time inside than usual because of restrictions due to the pandemic I'm keen to get stuck into reading a series of books. I'm also keen to read some more classic fiction since I've been reading so many debut novels whilst being a judge on this year's Costa Book Awards. One author I've always wanted to read is Anthony Trollope. He's one of the only prominent 19th century authors whose work I've not read at all. Also, Trollope was my grandmother's favourite author and I think it'll be meaningful to read some of his books knowing how much she enjoyed his stories. 

I've also been keen to join in more online reading groups since physical book clubs can't meet at the moment. The Trollope Society held a public vote during the month of October to determine the nation's favourite Trollope novel. The winner was “Barchester Towers” which is frequently cited as one of the author's most popular and beloved novels. Consequently, they are going to host a “Big Read” of the novel starting on November 9th. Every two weeks there will be online discussions from experts and Trollope super fans as we read the novel together. This will run through until January 4th. If you're interested in joining along with me you can register for free here: https://trollopesociety.org/pickupatrollope/reading-group/

I'm excited to start reading Trollope, but since “Barchester Towers” is the second book in his 'Chronicles of Barsetshire' series I'd like to start by reading the first book “The Warden”. I know that the second novel can be read independently, but I'd like to familiarize myself with the setting and characters which are established in the first novel. I really enjoy Balzac's novels and from what I've read it seems like Trollope's series similarly presents a realistic portrait of social and political conflicts in a series of stories whose characters sometimes cross over between the novels. With six novels in the 'Chronicles of Barsetshire' series I think this will be a fun project to embark on over the Winter months.

Let me know if you're keen to join in or if you have a favourite novel by Trollope!

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AuthorEric Karl Anderson
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The Liars Dictionary Eley Williams.jpg

Most debut novels commonly focus on autobiographical experience and while I know nothing about Eley Williams' background I wouldn't be surprised if this gifted author grew up between the covers of a giant dictionary. “The Liar's Dictionary” is quite literally the story of two lexicographers who both work for Swansby's New Encyclopedic Dictionary but their lives are separated by a century. While this might not sound like the most thrilling basis for a story, there's such charm, humour, warmth and surprisingly dramatic turns to this tale that I felt enthralled by this novel. 

In alternating alphabetically-ordered chapters, we're told the stories of Winceworth, an introverted lovelorn man in 1899 who fakes having a lisp, and Mallory, an introverted very-in-love woman in the present day who is nervous about introducing her girlfriend to people as more than a flatmate. Their intensely focused endeavour is to precisely research and define every word, but language is such an unwieldy beast this task seems insurmountable and never ending. Additionally, Mallory is newly charged with hunting down the mountweazels (made-up words) in their dictionary. Where did these false words come from and why were they added? Adding to this mystery are a series of threatening phone calls Mallory receives and a strange woman with whom Winceworth becomes infatuated. These elements form a quietly mesmerising tale that's also a love letter to the English language.

Something I really appreciated about this novel was its frank depiction of a young person struggling to make a living with a certain speciality. As an intern, Mallory can barely support herself. Swansby's is an esteemed institution but given modern technology Mallory is aware of the perfunctory nature of her job in a dilapidated building with outdated facilities: “To use a computer in Swansby House was to hate the sight of a computer.” It's moving how Williams writes about the contrast between the upkeep of the building and the amount of staff at the end of the 19th century in contrast to what it's been reduced to in the 21st century. 

Mallory feels like a character who was born in the wrong era, but she's also aware that this is historically a better time to be a homosexual: “it is a good time to be out. I know that. It's nice out. That's what I know to be true and yet and yet... It shouldn't define me. It definitely should.” This is one of the many complex ways this novel looks at the question of definitions and how there are deeper implications which are attached to many words. Mallory's girlfriend is unashamedly open about her sexuality in a way Mallory isn't. It's interesting how these ambiguous feelings have been expressed before in Wiliams' short story 'Smote' from her collection “Attrib”. I appreciate how this shows that being gay isn't simple no matter how progressive society becomes. 

Williams' revels in language: its etymology and evolution, the way it is commonly used, its many ambiguities and the gaps where there should be certain words for an experience or sensation. There are endless examples in this novel of innovative new words the author has created or infrequently-used beautiful words that she's unearthed. She also frequently points out how words come with so many connotations. For example she writes: “A freakish weed is just a flower that has not asked permission.” There are so many words and terms whose social meaning say more than their definition, but if you look at them from a different perspective their meaning can entirely change. This feels to me to be the ultimate message of the novel. Just like the innumerable words in our language, our unique personalities can never be precisely defined.

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AuthorEric Karl Anderson
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