Tag Archives: Orange prize

Foreign Bodies – Cynthia Ozick

Foreign Bodies tells the story of 48 year old Bea Nightingale (changed from Nachtigal because she doesn’t think the working class young men she teaches will be able to pronounce it) and various members of her family almost estranged from her.  Bea’s brother Marvin asks her to help find his missing son believed to be in Paris while she is there on a holiday.  She fails to unearth him and so starts a tale of family interactions which are often ugly, characterised by deception, hidden agendas and unspoken dreams.  Not only are members of the family at odds with each other, their expectations often opposed, but the settings of 1950s Paris and the USA also bring into focus the post-war differences of these nations.  Paris is where refugees from all over Europe have come to congregate after the war, trying to figure out their futures.  Educated people, previously in positions of respectability, reduced to menial work and poverty. Paris is where Marvin’s son and eventually his daughter seek refuge from his stifling hold on them and their futures.  Bea herself finds refuge in Paris, although she dislikes it, it takes her away from the disappointments of her life; a broken marriage, years of stagnation as a teacher in the same school, no real friends or lovers to speak of.  Ozick gives the impression of a post-war shroud hanging over Paris making it stale and shabby. Bea gets very uptight with its foreignness.

“Here in Paris, what was it to be mad about Proust….or bookishly familiar with history and kings and revolutionaries and philosophers?  It counted for nothing when you were puzzling over how to get from the IXth to the VIIth on an unexceptional Tuesday in the middle of your unexceptional life, and when you were feeling dismissed by the conscientious weekday faces streaming past, faces that had mundane tasks and were set on exactly what they were and how they were to be done.  She could not understand this city, it was an enigma, or else it was Paris that comprehended whatever passed through its arteries, and it was she, the interloper, who was the enigma”

In contrast, the USA is full of possibility.  Her brother has done well in business and has a large property with a pool.  Her ex-husband is doing well as a composer of music for Hollywood movies, an industry on the up.  He too lives in a large property in L.A.  The sheen is only surface deep with these two, it hides personal failures and the embarrassments of a wife supposedly gone mad, a (supposed) drop-out son, failed marriages and potential not realised.

The narrative switches between family members telling their part of the story.  Ozick’s skill is in providing each character with a distinctive voice and part to play in what is a pretty uncomplicated story.  None of the characters are particularly likeable, they all have failings.  Sometimes it is difficult to like a book where the characters don’t endear themselves, but then again, this is a story of human and family interactions, which can often be unsavoury.  Familial expectation and responsibility is an underlying theme in Foreign Bodies and it did make me think about how suffocating that can be sometimes.

I can imagine Foreign Bodies not being to everyone’s taste.  It is emotionally descriptive but the writing is superb and incredibly measured.  A couple of people I know who also read it said they felt she used 10 words where she could have used 1.  I don’t agree.  You don’t spend four years writing a book only for 90% of it to be superfluous.  I think every word has been agonised over to ensure maximum emphasis.  There is a passage not far from the end, in chapter 45 and too long for me to transcribe, where Bea attempts to exorcise herself of the hold her ex-husband has on her.  This passage is beautiful, you really feel her anguish.

Foreign Bodies is a book about exile.  Characters are exiled from their families, their homelands, their emotions and their wished-for futures.  It takes some effort to read it, but the superlative writing is reward enough.

Half Blood Blues – Esi Edugyan

I am lucky to belong to a bookclub made up of bright, intelligent, well-informed friends.  We often have what I think are erudite conversations about the books we read.   We all have our differing opinions and points of view and none of us is shy of saying what we think.  I am grateful after every meeting for learning things about our books that I may never have noticed on my own.  After catching up with each other and talking about holidays, birthdays, children, jobs and generally putting our worlds to right, we recently had the most fabulous discussion about the Orange Prize shortlisted Half Blood Blues by Esi Edugyan.  It’s not surprising really, as it is a remarkable book with a unique subject by a writer showing real promise with her second book.

The tale switches between Paris and Berlin during the early years of World War 2 and Berlin and Poland in 1992.  The story is one of friendship, betrayal, guilt and memory all relating to a group of young jazz musicians coping with the rise of fascism in 1930’s Berlin.  As Hitler’s power took hold, jazz was banned and it invariably moved underground.

“…Jazz. Here in Germany it become something worse than a virus. We was all of us damn fleas, us Negroes and Jews and low-life hoodlums, set on playing that vulgar racket, seducing sweet blond kids into corruption and sex. It wasn’t a music, it wasn’t a fad. It was a plague sent out by the dread black hordes, engineered by the Jews. Us Negroes, see, we was only half to blame – we just can’t help it. Savages just got a natural feel for filthy rhythms, no self-control to speak of. But the Jews, brother, now they cooked up this jungle music on purpose. All part of their master plan to weaken Aryan youth, corrupt its janes, dilute its bloodlines..”

The story focuses particularly on 3 of the musicians, Sid Griffiths, Chip Jones and Hieronymous Falk (Hiero).  These three are particularly peculiar in late 30’s Berlin, as they are black; Sid and Chip are American, Hiero is German.

“..He was a Mischling, a half-breed, but so dark no soul ever like to guess his mama a white Rheinlander.  Hell, his skin glistened like pure oil.  But he German-born, sure.  And if his face wasn’t of the Fatherland, just bout everything else bout him rooted him there right good..”

After a run-in with the authorities, Sid, Hiero and Chip escape to Paris, where, after many weeks of waiting and trying to keep the music alive, the Nazis occupy France and something very dreadful occurs to split the trio.   In 1992, Sid, who is the narrator, tries to make sense of the whole episode and how it has affected his life and those around him.

I’ve really tried hard with the above description not to give away too much of the plot.  It is difficult not to write more, but what would be the point of ruining it for you!

We discussed the plot in detail and were all agreed that it made for interesting reading, certainly providing a different perspective on the war years. We talked about how it wasn’t generally known that black Germans were persecuted, but this wasn’t such a surprise for me.  I started reading the book while in Berlin, and persuaded Mr Fictionhabit to check out some of the landmarks and streets mentioned in the book, luckily all very close to our hotel.  But while we were there we also went to Gedaenkstaette Deutscher Widerstand (Memorial to German Resistance).  This, by the way, is an excellent museum.  Free and with a brilliant English audiotour.  What I found interesting was the extent of German resistance to the Third Reich, but I have to admit my dismay at learning about those sections of society abused by the Nazis but largely forgotten by history.  There were so many persecuted minority groups working against the regime – if they had pooled their resources they may have been able to achieve something.   These groups included, communists, homosexuals, Romany gypsys, Christians, members of the labour movement and youth groups.  There was even a mention for Herr & Frau Hampel who were the inspiration for Alone in Berlin.  Generally speaking, however, the main premise of the book isn’t well known and therefore makes interesting reading.  Edugyan, must have done significant research for this book and it has paid off, as it feels so real.

As you will have noticed from the extracts above, the book is written in Jazz vernacular.  Some of my bookclub friends were a bit worried about this ahead of reading the book, but we all agreed, it wasn’t too difficult to get to grips with.  We also recently read On the Road by Jack Kerouac.  While discussing that book we talked about the tempo of the narrative echoing freestyle jazz (yes, really, we did!).  We had a very similar discussion about Half Blood Blues.  The book has periods of high energy and periods of lull and becomes a bit dense where nothing much happens.  One of my very clever bookclub friends pointed out that maybe the vernacular and the changes in tempo were deliberate, to mirror the mood of jazz music, which speeds up, then mellows, builds to a crescendo, lulls, has staccato and fluid moments side by side.  This comment inspired another friend to mention that there were at least 3 heart-breaking moments in the book (honestly, tear-inducing), and the narrative seems to build to these points, mirroring different movements in a piece of music.  Once this was all mentioned, I could see and understand it.  Oh, to be so clever!

We also discussed how unlikable the main character was, how reprehensible and unforgivable some of his behaviour was.  I was one of those who felt very little sympathy with this character during his younger years.  But I was made to re-think when someone pointed out that his behaviour was very characteristic of most young men.  Desperate to find their place in the group, yearning for influence, showing off in front of women and people in powerful positions, not supporting each other for fear of losing face or position in the group, constantly competing against each other and never discussing their hopes and fears.  This revelation went some way to explain the behaviour although not to excuse it.  We were by now completely staggered by Edugyan’s skill at writing so proficiently about male relationships.

Half Blood Blues is by no means a fully polished book.  There are details which we were all dissatisfied with, these included issues of historical and geographical accuracy and a weaker ending than we’d anticipated. We were however all impressed and agreed that Edugyan shows real promise as a writer.

One of our members rebelled against Half Blood Blues and instead read the Orange Prize winner, The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller.  She spoke about it with such affection and admiration that a few of us have been persuaded to give it a go over the summer.  It is possible that we may soon lose this member of our bookgroup as she makes a life changing move to the Isle of Skye (although bookclub by Skype has been talked of!) and it will be sad to see her go.  I console myself with the knowledge that I bonded with her and my other bookclubbers initially over books but over the 8 years we have been meeting to discuss books, we have become more than just bookclub buddies.  I am proud to call these astute, knowledgeable and articulate women, my friends.