Books for Blokes – Page 2 – Cristina Sanders' blog

What We Can Know

What We Can Know, by Ian McEwan

For a writer of historical fiction, a researcher, a historiographer, this book concerns things that obsess me. The wonderful Ian McEwan, in What We Can Know addresses all these questions that I confront every day : Is it true? Is the source reliable? Who recorded this and what was their motive? What did they miss? What’s been misinterpreted? What aren’t they saying? What happened to the records? Can I assume that…?

Empathy – book review

Empathy, by Brian Walpert

Empathy, I think, is one of those words that is overused and misused. It’s often used to express feelings of compassion or pity, though is not the same thing at all. Empathy is not a matter of expressing how you, too, have strong emotions that are similar to another’s. It’s a vicarious thing, it’s about letting go of your feelings and experiencing those of another person. And empathy applies to more that just pity, as Bryan Walpert explores in his intriguing new book, Empathy.

The Adversary–book review

The Adversary, by Michael Crummey

I was recommended The Adversary by Phil of Wardini Books who knows what I like and what might challenge me. I’ll tell this one in her words: “It’s miserable. Absolutely. It’s so dark and violent and they all lead such horrible lives and it’s historical and there are old ships and pirates and oooh, I read it and thought of you straight away.” Is this how she sees me? I mean, I love Catherine Robertson, too, and not a shipwreck in sight. But I’ve read and been inspired by many books on Phil’s recommendation, so off I went with The Adversary under my arm. Good God.

1985 – book review

1985, by Dominic Hoey

I guess Dominic Hoey sets his street cred early on in this story by throwing in a couple of ‘cunts’, just in case readers mistake him for an IIML grad. That would be a mistake. You can’t study to write authenticity like this.

Hoey’s previous story, descriptively called Poor People With Money is about youngsters on the edge in Auckland, making bad choices and rocking the consequences on a wild ride to a village so small. It’s on my list of classics of the decade. Can he do it again?

A Different Kind of Power – book review

A Different Kind of Power, by Jacinda Ardern

I didn’t know political biographies could be like this. There’s not a nasty bone in its body. I haven’t read a book so uplifting for a long time but I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, Jacinda Ardern’s signature is kindness. No one was expecting she’d take the opportunity now she has left office and living overseas to get stuck into the dozens of goons she must have had to deal with on a daily basis.

In Ascension – book review

In Ascension, by Martin MacInnes

I was absolutely engrossed in this novel. It had everything I love in a book; it took me away to places I’ll probably never go (a deep sea trench and space, for example) and concentrated on the one storyteller with all other characters only really understood in relation to her – a deep dive into the head of a very interesting woman. Leigh is a Dutch biologist, very nerdy, interested in the beginnings of life on earth. She is also the survivor of a father’s beatings, a mother who consoled her but would not stop the beatings and a sister Leah protected so she didn’t get beaten. He died and she tried to make herself anonymous. I felt the father as an understated presence in the story. He is not the story. The story is the science.

Much of Leah’s childhood is related in a pragmatic fashion, ignoring the ‘show don’t tell’ rule of modern writing. She tells us, and moves on. She has an extraordinary life, there is lots to cover and Leigh is pretty straightforward. Her science, on the other hand, is – like most things we don’t understand – utter magic. The places she takes us are deeply compelling and we linger over the meaning behind things.

Norwegian Wood, chopping, stacking and drying wood the Scandinavian way – book review

Norwegian Wood, by Lars Mytting

This is one of the most relaxing and enjoyable books I know. Odd, because it is full of men with axes living in freezing temperatures in remote forests, involving strenuous physical labour. All the hard work is for the benefit of the person snug by the fireside, tucked away from the harsh world outside. That’s us. The lucky readers.

Sixteen Trees of the Somme – book review

Sixteen Trees of the Somme, by Lars Mytting

There is something about Norwegian writing that reminds me of Irish literature. It’s so centred on place, it’s the being there that grounds the story. We are different here, these stories say, our culture is wrapped around our traditional ways based on a history, geography and climate that are distinctly our own. It’s like the country itself has a voice. We are beginning to understand this power in New Zealand writing and could take lessons from these countries, for sure. Lars Mytting’s voice is profoundly Norwegian. There is always the expectation of snow on his boots and trolls under the woodpile.

Sixteen Trees of the Somme has a long reach. The base of the story is a Norwegian farm – mostly in the snow but summer visits occasionally – and it’s a mystery and a history and a resistance story and has love and travel and coming of age, a history of gun making and an obsession with trees and their particular wood and so many other things. Lots of secrets to unravel. It kept me spellbound.

The Demolition of the Century– book review

The Demolition of the Century, by Duncan Sarkies

Tom is in insurance. Things turn bad when he checks up on a highly insured horse that dies unexpectedly and is quickly buried. There are sock-fulls of cash involved. He’s also got a failing marriage and a young boy, Frank, who he is meant to be collecting from school, but he is late because the gangsters are after him. I feel no sympathy for this character. Yet.

The Royal Free – book review

The Royal Free, by Carl Shuker

OK, so don’t shoot me for asking the question, but is this book even a finished novel? What is Carl Shuker trying to do here and why doesn’t he just tell the story? I know why his editors let him do it – because it is clever and edgy and wildly confusing in a way that makes you think it’s your problem for not getting it, not the fact that the book is so disjointed you could have it served up for dinner with no idea what beast it was. It’s experimental, for sure. There are literary nods and references, clever but incidental. So why is it on my list of books I love?

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