Fran Buckland

Weekend favourites #1

2012-02-20T11:05:00.001Z

Weather: From pouring rain to bright blue biting cold.

Book: Love in a Cold Climate by Nancy Mitford - fabulous period frivolity.

Scribble: My personal 100 greatest novels of all time list.

Screen: Sarah Lund catching murderers in The Killing.

Melody: John play Bach on the piano whilst I do the washing up.

Drink: Marmalade cocktails at Hawksmoor steakhouse.

Moment: Gorgeous Saturday evening sunset over Hyde Park from the top deck of the bus.

Taste: Peanut butter shortbread and salted caramel ice cream for Sunday pudding.

Valley of the Dolls

2012-02-17T23:51:00.005Z

I feel guilty about carrying this around, sharing my handbag as it does with my new Kindle, but I know it won't take me long to finish. I devour the words, reading the beginnings of the next paragraph before I have fully finished the first one. Yes - this book is trashy, a guilty pleasure, fast food.

I must admit, I am a chick lit snob - usually Sophie Kinsella or Jodi Picoult or their ilk make me shudder with "she flicked her brown glossy pony-tail from side to side" sentences (A direct quote from page six of the aforementioned authors' books. Needless to say, I didn't read on to page seven.) but Valley of the Dolls is different, published as it was in the 1960s, it seems to have none of the trappings of over-adverbial, stodgy prose so often found in girl trash nowadays. The story is gripping, feminist, slutty; the characters have lesbian affairs, they make money, they take drugs, they are stars. It's not well written, but it's so, so good.

How did I come across it? It's not something I'd pick up in a bookshop; not the kind of book to be included in the List (although when I compile my personal List, it will definitely feature). It was recommended by the Reading Room, an optional add-on section to my new absolute favourite five minutes of every working day... the mailing list Emerald Street. It sends a magazine article to your inbox every day in time for the 11am tea break - an absolute gem of an idea from magazine-of-the-moment Stylist, which is always a brilliant read. Sign up, you won't regret it!

Happy Valentine

2012-02-16T13:35:00.001Z

I open the door and the smell of good cooking fills the air. Inside, a bunch of white roses on the table and two champagne glasses await me, as well as a small box wrapped in pink spotty paper.

"Your proper present will arrive tomorrow," he explains, as a ruse. We pour the champagne, and I arrange the flowers in a vase. I ask him to close his eyes before presenting him with his (unwrapped!) present: his favourite board game. I slowly unwrap my present...

"I'm only good at buying electronics."

I shriek. I can't believe it! And yet I have reservations: will this mean the end of weekend bookshop browsing, paper and torn spines? No - I know that what it will mean is that I can read many, many long books on my weekly train journeys, without needing to lug them around in increasingly bulky handbags. He is a practical man, who will continue to indulge my romantic notions of paperbacks, whilst ensuring that my spine remains healthy...

Thank you, love.

Riffing on a theme: the 20s and 30s

2012-02-08T21:24:00.000Z

The twenties and thirties are massively 'on trend' at the moment and I'm not sure if my mum has been subconsciously reflecting it in her book gift choices, but it seems that the First World War has been a massive influence. Downton Abbey formed the main topic of conversation around the dinner table on Christmas and Boxing Day (in my opinion it did end up too much like a Richard Curtis film with Lady Mary and Matthew finally getting it on in the snow), and Birdsong followed hot on its heels (not a winner for me, but definitely a must watch, if only for Eddie Redmayne's luxurious cheekbones...)

I brought All Quiet on the Western Front back home with me to read over Christmas, lovingly selected from The List and purchased on a trip to my favourite Daunt Books on Marylebone High Street. It is difficult to do this book justice in a review, as it is so well loved by many and such an iconic book about the era. I'm actually slightly ashamed that it has taken me so long to read it!

Love on the Dole by Walter Greenwood came on Christmas morning in my stocking. It follows the fortunes (and hardships) of Sally and Harry Hardcastle, two siblings struggling to find work and money in the depression-era thirties. It's a really lovely portrayal of a community, and strangely relatable to in the current economic climate - definitely a reminder that whatever economic problems we face, similar has happened before (admittedly not with the added complexity of a single European currency, but a mass populace with rising unemployment...).

And finally... an Amazon parcel arrived in the post for me at random after Christmas, containing Nancy Mitford's wonderful satire Love in a Cold Climate. So far I have read the first in the trilogy and have spent a few wonderful evenings reading bits aloud to John (a rarity that he will likely not acknowledge) and giggling over Linda's romantic exploits and ridiculous sensibilities. I particularly like Uncle Davey, whose constitutional choices rival all of today's faddy diets... Dr Dukan eat your heart out!

On Insanity

2011-11-20T19:19:00.001Z

I realised today that the books I have been reading over the last couple of months seem to have a common theme: madness. No wonder my moods have been darker than usual. Strangely, over the last couple of days I feel as if autumn and the coming winter have lifted a fog around me and I am beginning to feel myself again.

Of Mice And Men

2011-11-04T19:53:00.001Z

I spent an afternoon in the POÄNG armchair (great for slight rocking) in my parents kitchen reading this whilst my mum at intervals said things like, 'Have you met Curly's wife yet?". The story is short but neat, and very, very sad. (I realise most people read this at school. I read On the Black Hill instead, which was a terrible, terrible thing.)

The Tiger's Wife, or when not to listen to your mother

2011-09-12T19:13:00.002+01:00

There are times in life when I wish I'd listened to her (the belly button piercing, for example) but sometimes, my mother is just wrong. This book is an example of one of those times. I picked it up in the airport on the way to Greece after reading about Tea Obreht in a magazine - to be honest, the only reason it stuck in my mind is because she won the Orange Prize at such an early age and made me feel like some kind of astounding failure. You know when you're getting old when people roughly the same age as you start writing prize winning books because good literature is like the last bastion of the mature - most people need to live their lives a bit before writing about it.

Anyway, so my insecurity was short lived, because Tea was from Yugoslavia, and so had had a vast amount to write about, and all was right with the world again. Apart from my mother, when offered the book to borrow, declined in a way that suggested it was a bit trashy (it's not).

The story loops through the fantastical backdrop of the war and old myths and legends passed down through generations - it's a good read, suspenseful and interesting.

To be fair, she had just received a Kindle for her birthday. So I'll let her off wanting my second (again, damp) holiday paperback.

Returning to Kephalonia and Patrick Hamilton

2011-09-05T20:46:00.003+01:00

I picked this off the shelves because Patrick Hamilton holds many memories for me: I selected his Hangover Square from a Kephalonian holiday apartment shelf many years ago, flung myself into the azure ocean on a lilo and spent hours drifting and reading. This year, I returned to both: the author and the apartment.

Hangover Square is a fantastic novel about a man with schizophrenia and alcoholism. It is very clever and yet funny. Unfortunately, I got on with the Midnight Bell rather less well; I found the first story, about a barman called Bob, rather too simplistic and a bit frustrating. The following stories in the trilogy, about Jenny, the prostitute Bob falls in love with, and Ella, a barmaid who is in love with Bob himself, were much more self aware and better portraits.

The (now slightly dampened; have you ever tried reading on a lilo?) copy of Hangover Square that I read all those years ago is still in the apartment in Kephalonia. Here is a smug picture of the sea that I read it in:

Back on the literature wagon

2011-09-03T22:52:00.004+01:00

The trouble with the internet is that it is so easy to get lost in other people's productive efforts, you often find that you forget your own. I can sit down to write about reading and then spend hours reading until I finally come to my senses at midnight, with cold fingers and a sense that it has got dark without me realising.

I'm now in a state of catch-up. I might just post the photos and have done with it!

The Finkler Question

2011-06-27T22:04:00.004+01:00

I was nervous about reading this book, in spite of its accolades - I profess to knowing very little about Jewish culture and only slightly more (but far more embarrassingly) about the current situation in Israel and Palestine. I figured this book would have too many Jewish in-jokes and be a bit heavy going.

I'll admit it: I was totally wrong. Jacobson is very witty and entertaining. If there were in-jokes (likely), then I was oblivious, but the wonderful thing was, it didn't matter. There was enough beginner-Jewishness in the book so as not to alienate the novice reader.

Julian Treslove is a very well fleshed out character - it is easy to become involved in his quest... for Jewishness? I still couldn't really say!

I read so fast now that I am travelling so often, the stories wind up going by too quickly, or being too bitty; I am absorbed, then I am not. I forget all too easily what happens, the names of characters, the crucial final page. Initially this blog was meant to be a memory jogger - revisiting books in my mind would make them more real, help to keep them alive. It is helping to a point.

Home comforts

2011-06-24T12:13:00.002+01:00

A recently developed obsession for beautiful cookbooks. I'm absolutely atrocious at cooking, which almost classes as an excuse for these!

These espresso cups were a Christmas present from my aunt and bring me such joy lined up like this next to the lampshade.

Brooklyn

2011-06-24T11:49:00.002+01:00

Colm Tóibín has a wonderful way of writing very simply and beautifully, characters that are constructed so daintily but sharply like the tips of sharpened pencils or the first time you saw a pixel perfect photograph. That might sound pretentious but it is this clarity of character and of writing that makes his novels so absorbing and realistic.

Brooklyn is a novel about a young woman, Eilis Lacey, who moves from Ireland to New York in the 1950s. Initially homesick, Eilis settles in New York without realising, and then unexpectedly has to return to Ireland finding that she has almost outgrown her old home town. So far, so coming of age.

Part of my love of this novel was a bit of an obsession I have at the moment for the simple life, which Brooklyn, being set in the fifties, has in abundance. But personal whims aside, it is a beautiful story.

Rabbit, Run

2011-06-14T20:54:00.003+01:00

I wish I had more time to devote to a review of this book - at the time of reading it really effected me. I remember loving it, but in an unspecific way that is so often the case after I have been reading a book deeply and one of the reasons I started this blog. The story is of Henry "Rabbit" Angstrom, who is struggling with the banality of his life. From the blurb on the back of my copy, it seemed to be about a journey, beginning with him driving away from his family through the night. He returns, however, but never stops running, which seemed both surprising and inevitable every time it happened.

I have no shame: The Girl who Played with Fire

2011-06-14T20:49:00.001+01:00

Sometimes, especially I find when you spend long days working hard, your concentration lags and reading anything classed as literary fiction seems far too strenuous for an evening. This is the second in the series of the perfect antidotes to literature boredom: thrilling page turners, escapism.

Austerlitz

2011-05-23T22:11:00.003+01:00

Austerlitz by W G Sebald was given to me by two lovely girlfriends as part of a leaving gift from the publishers we all worked at at the time. I suggested it to the book group, however when it came to being selected, very few members bought or read it and it was swiftly put aside in favour of something, well lighter.

Mistake, fellow book group members. This book is not an easy read. It has no chapters, but large text, pictures, and spends an inordinate amount of time on things such as star shaped fortresses at the beginning - only for all of these strange diversions to suddenly seem like the main route, the only route. It is beautiful, poetic in nature. The narrator, although first-person, is not the protagonist - he is faceless, nameless even, but yet reading it you get a palpable sense of him that you do not get with the protagonist Austerlitz, whose actions seem untraceable, not understandable.

It is not easy to read, not easy to get into and has a plot that only reveals itself when you as a reader would no longer be reading for a plot. And yet I loved it.

The Beautiful and Damned

2011-04-03T16:54:00.006+01:00

Ever so occasionally, you read a book that seems to speak so much sense about your life as you are living it - a book that says what you will say, in forty years, when you look back at the life choices that you are making right now. This is how I felt when reading The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald, the story of a young and frivolous couple who care little for responsibility and all for parties and beauty and wealth.

So far, so fabulous. But then Gloria and Antony, the beautiful and witty protagonists start running out of money, are cut out of the will and their marriage begins to disintegrate. Behind the facade of parties and alcohol, the tensions are apparent.

I love how absorbed the two main characters are, their witty conversation not unlike I might have with my friends over a meal - and yet this story is interspersed with Fitzgerald's social and life commentaries, so as to lead the reader. Sometimes the distinction between the fiction and this discussion is too obvious, and then it becomes apparent how much of a construction the characters are. It is strange, then, that these commentaries of Fitzgerald's were my favourite bits, my take home messages, a quote on a whiteboard hanging in my flat.

I found the pace to be slow in places - this may have been in part because all the parties do become same-y, which is an effect in itself, Gloria and Antony's whole lives revolving endlessly around the same nights.

In spite of it's dramatic ending and clear moral message against wantonness and irresponsibility that still defines the twenty-something lifestyle, however, I think this book does show a certain glamour and flashiness in freedom of this kind, something that I definitely enjoy!

Book Group: an update

2011-01-25T22:41:00.002Z

Finished and enjoyed The Help, although in some parts I found that it was a bit too 'lightweight' and occasionally lazy with the old tried and tested adage 'show, don't tell.'

Next book was added to the below list at the last minute and picked: The Hand That First Held Mine by Maggie O'Farrell. I saw it in Waterstones and (in what is becoming a theme for the book group choices) it looked far, far too chick-litty for me, so I couldn't bring myself to by it and bought The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald instead.

Finally, a brief review of the Corrections...

2011-01-25T22:24:00.005Z

The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen follows the story of Alfred and Enid, two elderly pensioners and their three children, Chip, Gary and Denise, as they seemingly struggle to fit their lives around each other.

It took me a while to "settle in" to the book and the characters - the structure delves between Enid/Alfred's lives and those of their three kids, mostly dealing with one of the children at a time. The two male children and their psyches were covered first, and I did feel that the dominant theme behind both of their lives and relationships was this overpowering male sexuality; as though they related only to other people in light of this. It did make it hard for me to identify with them as characters, but I thought, give Franzen the benefit of the doubt Fran, he's written more novels than you ever have. At least there was Denise left. She couldn't be overpowered with male sexuality, surely?

Denise was a lesbian. That's right, she had sex with women. Franzen just sidestepped the mark really; the women in the novel didn't have sexuality, they had strange family hang-ups (Enid and Caroline) or sex with women, like the men (Denise).

But don't be put off. This book is so, so worth it. It is worth it for Enid, the mother torn between these conflicted and sexualised children and her ill husband. She embodies a generation of elderly people struggling to come to terms with change and aging. I found the latter part of the model painful to read, so acute was the portrayal of this family and how their individuality barred them from coming to terms with being a unit and understanding each other's needs. So, definitely worth the read if you can struggle through the man sex at the start.

Bluesy January following Excessive Travels in December

2011-01-09T17:04:00.004Z

Insert your favourite excuse about why I've not been blogging enough here!

I went to Iceland for a long weekend in December with some girlfriends. It is an amazing country. We stayed in a gorgeous apartment in Reykjavík and did various cultural and geographical trips (acting like PROPER tourists and taking photos of just about everything we could see). Northern Lights, tick (after a lot of waiting about in the cold!). Erupting geyser, tick. Frozen lake, tick. Tectonic plates, tick.

Obviously, Iceland is in a bit of an interesting situation politically and financially at the moment, and the after effects of that definitely showed - one of our wonderful tour guides, Ronald, used to be a civil engineer until the financial crisis meant that they stopped building things (like the really architecturally creative churches seemingly in the middle of nowhere).

After a pit stop at home for Christmas...

In this photo, catching a few Christmas nods is my lovely sister Rozzle, who has just started a new blog that you can find here.

On Boxing Day, John and I took a car full of parents to France for a bit of skiing for a week over New Year. We had glorious sunshine all week and skiied right from the summit of Les Trois Vallées, which is something I've never done before.

Disclaimer: I don't actually know any of these people. They were in the way of my view.

The Corrections

2010-11-29T21:36:00.002Z

Since the winter evenings have been drawing closer (It's meant to snow tonight! Hurrah!) I have been doing an increasing amount of snuggling under a duvet reading. Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections was a present to myself after Freedom came out and all the hype surrounding it whipped me up into a book buying frenzy.

My favourite thing about Jonathan Franzen is that he had his glasses stolen right from the end of his nose at a party. We'll have to see if this changes after I have read the book.

An early doors Christmas wish list

2010-11-21T16:50:00.004Z

I bloody love Christmas. In my opinion, it is never to early to see Christmas themed shop decorations or start listening to christmassy songs... it's one of the only good things about winter, so why moan about it? I am, however, pretty rubbish at shopping for christmas presents. So, in light of this, I thought I would present my own wish list for this year:

I'm going to Iceland before starting my new job and it is becoming very, very difficult to convince myself that it would be better to buy myself some much needed new office wear rather than the very tempting winter wear that seems to be everywhere at the moment, like the above gorgeous jumper from JOY and the below earmuffs from MUJI.

The Longchamp Le Pliage shopper, which a friend of mine has in navy blue and I once saw a glamorous lady sit reading the FT with one on the Eurostar, is lovely. Or so I thought until after weeks of dreaming, I saw them in Selfridges and wasn't that impressed with the actual material that the bag is made of - I thought it was a thick, material canvas, much like the very similar Ralph Lauren canvas tote, but they are actually kind of shiny. I didn't buy one on that trip, but I still find myself considering it...

And on the reading list? I usually leave that up to Santa... :-)

Another choice from book group...

2010-11-21T16:39:00.002Z

The Help by Kathryn Stockett is the next book to be chosen by book group. I've actually already read it but am saving a full review until after the actual book group discussion as these do really help to concrete (and also add to!) my thoughts!

The way we choose books is quite good - everyone added three choices to a list, we ruled out the ones that people had already read and didn't want to read again and then pick out of a hat. The remaining books on the list (so be prepared to see more of these in the coming weeks) are:

1 Austerlitz by WG Sebald
2 Brooklyn by Colm Toibin
3 Disobedience by Naomi Alderman
4 Moon Tiger by Penelope Lively
5 Sacred Hearts by Sarah Dunant
6 The Clothes on Their Backs by Linda Grant
7 The Driver's Seat by Muriel Spark
8 The Five People You Meet in Heaven - Mitch Albom
9 The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson
10 The Girl On The Landing by Paul Torday
11 The Girl with Glass Feet by Ali Shaw
12 The House at Midnight by Lucie Whitehouse
13 The Queen of the South by Arturo Perez Reverte
14 Travels with my Aunt by Graham Greene

Meanwhile, back at book group...

2010-11-15T18:57:00.002Z

The meeting for the next book, Charlotte Brontë's Villette, was held a while ago, so I've definitely got some catching up to do on here. This was the third book that the book group have read, following Lauren Liebenberg's The Voluptuous Delights of Peanut Butter and Jam and another book that I not only failed to procure but actually can't remember the name of (to be fair, this was because it was a preview and the group was meant to write a review of it and only issued us with six copies, so I can be forgiven). It was also the third book that I have failed to read.

I mean, I started it (you can see the bookmark). I just didn't finish it. Lucy Snowe is the most drab heroine - I once read somewhere that the best Mills and Boon heroines are written like blank canvases that women can just project their own personalities onto. Lucy Snowe would be a perfect Mills and Boon heroine. She doesn't say anything, or really do anything; she just observes things, and then sometimes comments on them in a very Brontë'-esque religious way. I have to admit, I'm not really a fan of any of the Brontës - their heroines do have a tendency to be like this and Lucy Snowe is a typical Brontë heroine.

I was told in the book group that it gets better - apparently I had annoyingly just reached the section where she starts to show some personality before giving up - so I might try and finish it at some point. For now, though, it is most definitely on hold.

American Psycho

2010-11-12T11:49:00.002Z

I read American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis (with a wonderful eighties style cover, filched from my mum's black bookshelf at home) whilst on holiday on a Greek island in September, and have been meaning to write a gushing book review about it ever since. But since then, it has all started to feel a little close to home (apart from the orgies and the murders of course)... the sushi, the work, the gym, the nights out etc. And that makes me uneasy. So I will just say two things. Firstly, read this book. And secondly, don't read it on a sun lounger unless you are fine with being eyed strangely by everyone else in your resort (who incidentally, were all reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, more about which later).