Suite Française is a book that had been on my reading list for several years.  I’d heard it being talked about so often, that I suppose I understood its importance without ever really knowing what it’s about.  When I saw it would be the subject of discussion at the seventh Two Roads Book Club, I thought it time to discover what makes this novel such an enduring topic of conversation.

Irène Némirovsky was already a successful author when, in 1941, she started to plan an ambitious new project – a 1,000 page novel in five parts, a symphonic story of the lives of the French under occupation.  Tragically the novel would remain unfinished.  Némirovsky, of Russian and Jewish descent, was taken under arrest to the Auschwitz concentration camp in 1942.  She died, at the age of 39, in August that same year.

The manuscript for the first movements of Suite Française, as well as notes for the final three parts (including, poignantly, ‘Peace’) were undiscovered until the late nineties, when Némirovsky’s daughter began typing up her mother’s writing in order to preserve it.  You can guess what happened next.  An incredible story appeared once more on the page, and in 2004 Suite Française was published for the first time. As Will had mentioned in his letter, the book’s very existence was a remarkable story in its own right.

The uncompleted novel is divided in to two parts.  The first, ‘Storm in June’, set in 1940, follows several characters as they flee Paris and make their way in the chaos that ensues. The second, ‘Dolce’, tells the story of the residents of Bussy, a small town coming to terms with life under German occupation for the third time.

As Will had guessed, we found it impossible to discuss Suite Française without referring to the context in which it was written.  Némirovsky describes events so recent in her memory, that it’s hard not to see the novel as a semi-historical document of France at that time.  For many of us it invited us to reconsider what we thought we knew about the Second World War, and we found a greater appreciation of how different people’s experiences of war could be.

Despite their terrible situation, we collectively felt little sympathy for many of the characters in the book, especially those from the higher levels of society, whose true nature is exposed when their behaviour is contrasted with the simply described suffering of the lower classes. It’s an interesting study of human character under duress, with events such as the Péricands forgetting to bring an elderly family member with them as they flee, or the wealthy Charles Langelet stealing fuel from unsuspecting refugees, helping to create a quite damning conclusion.

We also questioned how we ourselves would react under occupation. It may seem easy to pass judgment on the villagers of Bussy and others for their acceptance of the occupation, but when we were each put on the spot, several of us admitted that we would have acted similarly.  When so much of our identity is defined by our relationships, our homes, our career, is it really so simple to give up everything for something as uncertain as resistance?

We also touched upon how different life would have been in a world without twenty-four hour news and Twitter.  The fear and uncertainty that those fleeing Paris would have been multiplied by their not knowing what was really happening in the rest of France.

This is a book of many themes, too many for us to discuss in the space of one hour, but the beauty of Némirovsky’s writing is that the author’s own opinions or agenda are never overbearing or explicit.  Her narrative, in the style of the very best documentaries, prompts and provokes, but leaves the reader to draw their own conclusions.

And so this meeting of the Two Roads Book Club drew to a close.  As with all unfinished works of art, it’s easy to wonder ‘what might have been’. We were certainly left with the feeling that there was more to come after the slower pace of ‘Dolce’.  However, I think we did all appreciate the merits of what does exist.

The group was split when considering whether we would read more of the author’s work, but we all agreed that Suite Française challenged us to think again about a period that we had thought we understood well, and that the book’s very existence was a quite remarkable and important story in itself.

Next Tuesday I’m off to New York to work for six weeks.  There will be posts from there, of an over-excited nature. It may well be  raining there too, but dammit, it’ll be New York Rain.

Watch this space…

Magnolia blossom in a London churchyard  

Not that it can be relied upon, but springtime in London is glorious.  Watch out for it any time from January to May.  This year, somewhat conventionally,  it’s on schedule. Parks have been blossom bombed, petals raining down like the rain we don’t seem to have any more.  But that’s a problem for summer.  For now, it’s spring and magical.

On the sixth meeting of our Two Roads Book Club, not only did we have a book that had been on many of our ‘to read’ piles for years, but we FINALLY had the inspiration behind our book club, Will Schwalbe, in the room with us. After months of emails back and forth about our reading list, we were able to celebrate in style with the man himself. We met in the Library at the Hospital Club and settled down to discuss The Reluctant Fundamentalist.

For those who haven’t read this, it’s  a novel set in the years following 9/11, and tackles, through the engaging, articulate words of its narrator Changez, what it is to be a Pakistani living in the suspicious, terrorism-altered Western world. The novel is brief, and the narration takes place during the course of one long evening in a Lahore café. The reader, addressed as ‘you’, takes on the persona of an American businessman or CIA agent – the exact occupation and reason for his presence in Lahore is never made clear – and is approached by a bearded young gentleman, who invites himself to join ‘you’ at ‘your’ table. Over the course of cups of tea, snacks and a delicious evening meal, the stranger, who introduces himself as Changez, describes his life during the years he lived in America, interspersed with snapshots of Lahore life.

Amongst the group we decided that the ending was such an important moment in the novel that the only way to begin a discussion about The Reluctant Fundamentalist was to start at the end. The ambiguous ending exposed us each as a particular type of reader based on whether we believed that the American was the pursued or the pursuer. By leaving the ending open, the author forced us to examine our own subconscious prejudices: who, if either, was the innocent party? One of the main concepts that we struggled with in the book was the concept of the single narrator – how could we trust what we were told, was the American across the table even there, how could we fully understand the situation from such a blinkered viewpoint? We were required to suspend our disbelief about the unrealistic conversation and be moved where the narrator wanted to take us.

Our book club was an eclectic mix, and the addition of three Americans made for a lively debate. The Greek holiday where Changez notices the lack of refinement amongst his American peers rang true amongst all those in the discussion – a certain level of embarrassment about our Western ability to be impolite, brash and make those around us uncomfortable with our aggressive nature. Another element of the novel which caused great uproar was the relationship between Changez and Erica – was he cruel in his role as her deceased boyfriend, or did his actions give her closure? The men amongst the group felt that he was acting for her, whilst the women differed entirely believing that this encounter was the final push towards an unhinged mind. Did he abuse her trust in order to relieve his own sexual needs?

There were countless themes and symbols within the novel for a book group discussion, and we could have sat for many more hours discussing the intricate themes, but once we had pushed as far as the book’s similarities to Hamlet we realised we were perhaps taking it a little far. One element that we agreed on entirely was the power of the written word to teach us about other people and the impact of large events, such as 9/11, beyond the initial reaction. The novel forced us to examine our own prejudices and we enjoyed the experience of having to re-examine our thought processes.

As our discussion moved on to Will’s personal experiences in publishing and stories of the power of the book, including his mother’s involvement in setting up Afghan libraries for those who have never seen a written book in their own language, we were left imagining not being able to read . . . The Two Roads Book Club couldn’t imagine a world without books, discussion and learning and we were warmed by Will’s complete adoration of books and their impact.

We gave The Reluctant Fundamentalist 3 out of 4 stars. Not all of us enjoyed reading the book, but we loved the discussion it led to. If you want to have a look at our book club, have a watch here:

The New Bookshop in Cockermouth (brewery round the corner!)

Cockermouth is in the North Lakes and is most famous for being the birthplace of  the Wordsworths and, more recently, the terrible floods of 2009 which destroyed the High Street and with it  The New Bookshop.  Thankfully, all has been restored and replaced and very pretty it is too, although high water markers along the high street are a grim (if incredible) reminder.

Both Ashley &  I have spoken at a lot of book groups in the last nine months, but it’s rare for us to do a double act as editor and author.

Ashley speaks to the group

Watching her present her book is always fascinating, not least because she gives a detailed history of Iran and the West, the politics, double-dealings, the working of the  ‘puppet’  Shah and the complexity of the region which forms the backdrop to her memoir. It is the stuff of spy novels and actually little enough known.   She had also brought some wonderful photographs with her of the family which enrich her story still further.

Ashley, Gillian and Catherine at The New Bookshop

But, as often happens, of equally great interest was the process of writing and editing and how it works.   Why, in fact, did Ashley decide to write the book in the first place? I’m attaching a link to an earlier blog of Ashley’s which answer some of those questions.

It was a great evening – thanks to all who participated so enthusiastically.

Many thanks to Catherine at The New Bookshop for looking after us so well and organising such a great group.

Cockermouth's most famous son

The New Bookshop Cockermouth

Ashley’s website

let there be tinsel - there was cake, but we ate it ...

It’s our birthday today and so time for a little moment of reflection.  So, in the last twelve months we’ve published some great books, acquired more for this year, had some bestsellers and are on the way to establishing ourselves a little more each day.

I’ve also done a lot  of travelling.  Last summer, I thought it’d be a good idea to get out of the office and meet readers and booksellers and attend a few book groups.  Since last July I’ve notched up about 7000 miles, attended book groups across the country and spoken to hundreds of readers.  And fabulous it has been too.   All book groups are different yet united in their desire for a great story that challenges, entertains and, to a degree, educates.  It’s been lively, to say the least.  But most of all it’s been heart-warming and reassuring that, no matter how tough ‘the market’ seems, there are readers out there just waiting for great stories.

So, partly in tribute to the book groups, which are Two Roads core market, we made this birthday film, which celebrates some of the joy of books.  Do let us know what you think…

I’m often (well, occasionally) asked which Australian authors I would recommend.

Nothing more annoying than a list of ten books, so here are twelve Australian books I love. I am hugely grateful that much of my formative reading was done in Australia, which bolted onto a narrative British base  pretty much perfectly.  Obviously I love more than twelve, but this is a start.  I could have done fifty but this is a blog…not a pulpit.

So, in no particular order … get your minds outside these…

1.  The Fortunes of Richard Mahony trilogy  Henry Handel Richardson

2. The Tree of Man Patrick White

3. Oscar and Lucinda Peter Carey

4. The Man Who Loved Children Christina Stead

5. Careful He Might Hear You Sumner Locke Elliot

6. Come in Spinner Dymphna Cusack – cannot find this in print – anyone know where I can get this?

7. The Monkey’s Mask Dorothy Porter

8. The Idea of Perfection Kate Grenville

9. Dancing on Coral Glenda Adams

10. The Sound of One Hand Clapping Richard Flanagan

11.  The Transit of Venus Shirley Hazzard

12.  Cloudstreet Tim Winton (what? you thought I’d leave it off?) + TV series

Australian literature (past and present)  is poorly available in the UK, so many of these will be unknown, even though they’re a bit ‘greatest hits’.  None the worse for that of course.  Embrace Australia’s storytelling culture…

And finally – a taster of  some contemporary writers I recommend hugely:  James Bradley, Charlotte Wood, Carrie Tiffany, Garth Nix, Joan London, Gillian Rubinstein … do try and see where they take you…one connection leads to another.

Oh, and by the way…

Text Publishing Australia is relaunching some Australian classics – more info here.

Oh how cute, we squealed.  Now Mrs Squirrel is as fat as butter and about to bring forth a litter in clear breach of the eviction notice I served them.

Animals (apart from dogs and cats) alarm me.  They alarm me when they are in my house, wardrobe, under my sofas, in bathrooms or in my kitchen.  I think this is perfectly reasonable.  They have their territory and I have mine, there is little room for a Venn diagram intersect on the matter. Humans inside, animals outside.

Now that Mrs Squirrel’s waters are about to break, visions of lemming-like hordes of them are giving me nightmares.  For we are on the 2nd floor and in order to get out to the balcony ( to do what?  throw them over? are they flying squirrels? show them pictures of a better neighbourhood/park?) I have to open the door and for them the only way out will be in, so to speak.  Hence my predicament.

Squirrels bite, the fact they have eaten the watering can is a fair indication of their teeth power and in defence of their young, they might be lethal.   I know they bite because one of my authors was badly bitten – and he is a vet, as in professional animal person.

I could wait for the entire family to be born, get fed up and leave (do teenage squirrels hang about?) or call the vet.  Or I could just draw the curtains and pretend they’re not there. Yup, trying that one.

*There is actually a name for fear of squirrels – sciurophobia – I rest my case.

Just before Christmas I participated in a telephone book club link up organised by the Royal National Institute for the Blind.  A group of people with varying degrees of sight loss get together once a month to talk about books they have listened to.

A very nice bunch of people, lively and opinionated (like most book lovers) who very quickly got me looking at the world from their point of view.  As one lady said to me ‘just because we’re blind why should we have to wait to access recordings of new and noteworthy books.  We want to be able to discuss them as soon as they come out, just like sighted people.’  And of course, good quality recordings of books are not routinely available and the cost of audio recording is quite significant, but there is an audience…and for some people they are the lifeline to books – when was the last time you listened to an audio book?

I thought for a while about writing up something where, by and large, the participants couldn’t easily access what I’ve written.  However,  this is a valuable resource for book lovers and it’s worth while publicising its good works.   If you think you know someone who’d be interested in this service here are the details.

Oh, and don’t take your good sight for granted…

2011 Shortlist for Audible Audio Book of The Year.

My Dear I Have Something to Tell You won, but I’d recommend all of them and put in a nod for Wolf Hall, completely brilliant on audio.

Ashley's mother, Genie

I hadn’t done a book group on Farangi Girl before and it was refreshing to get so many diverse but essentially positive views on Ashley’s extraordinary story of growing up in Tehran.  Ashley’s mother always tends to divide people into two camps, but everyone agreed it was a fascinating childhood.  High scores of 8.

I’d like to thank Kim Richens for looking after me so well, feeding me casserole and for a lovely chat about our times in Sydney. Australia is a huge country yet we had mutual friends, I always find that weird.  Sue Creedy drove me back to Grantham station after the meeting which was above and beyond.  Thank you.