June 2019 book review

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM SHANDY, GENTLEMAN by Laurence Sterne
In the middle of the 18th century, a child is born into a genteel family, but immediately finds himself laboring under all manner of difficulties. First, the doctor crushes his nose with his newly invented obstetric forceps while delivering the child. Second, the serving wench mis-spells his name when given the task of registering his birth. These are both insurmountable problems for Tristram’s Father, among whose ‘hobby-horses’ are the beliefs that it is essential to go through life with at least two things: a good Christian name, and a strong, prominent nose.  Oh dear.

Now, you’d think that these facts would occur at the beginning of what amounts to an autobiography, but no. We are into volume 5 of the book before Tristram is even born, because of a literary device Laurence Sterne made his own: digression, often lengthy, frequently hilarious and always fascinating. Our esteemed author, who often addresses us directly, sees these diversions not as such, but “as the thing itself”. The digressions are the book, and what make it unique in literature. And there are numerous other unique aspects to this remarkable book. All at once, we may come across a blank page, a page that appears to be an impression of marble, or another which is simply black. Some of these eccentricities are explained (though we are often not left a great deal wiser for the explanation); some are not. But what we ultimately find is an amazing novel that is literally centuries ahead of its time. The great doctor Johnson once said of it: “Nothing odd will do long”, but here the good doctor was in grave error. It has done long, never being out of print in the 260 years since it was published. Try this tiny taster, from page 332 of the Penguin edition:

“...It is from this point properly, that the story of my LIFE and my OPINIONS sets out; with all my hurry and precipitation, I have been clearing the ground to raise the building - and such a building do I foresee it will turn out, as never was planned, and was never executed since Adam. In less than 5 minutes I shall have thrown my pen into the fire, and the little drop of thick ink which is remaining at the bottom of my inkhorn, after it - I have but half a score of things to do in the time - I have a thing to name - a thing to lament - a thing to hope - a thing to promise, and a thing to threaten... this chapter therefore, I name this the chapter of THINGS, and the next chapter be upon WHISKERS, in order to keep up some sort of connections in my works...

You don’t want to go on and read 600-odd more pages of this sort of sublime, mind-expanding ridiculousness? What is wrong with you?

WATERLOG, by Roger Deakin
An academic with a lifelong interest in the environment reads the famous short story The Swimmer by John Cheever, and decides to re-enact the narrative of that story by “swimming across Britain”, taking in lakes, rivers, canals, public swimming pools and the odd estuary along the way.

His account of these exploits has become famous as one of the most lyrical and beautiful pieces of creative nonfiction to have come out of Britain since the War. Deakin was a very observant man, and noted the wildlife he encountered, be they otters, wild flowers, fellow swimmers or local anglers with loving, even ecstatic detail. Like his friend Robert McFarlane, he had a passionate love of the English countryside, and feared for the dwindling wild places, now under threat as never before from the implacable forces of capitalism and the rush to profit.

Roger Deakin died tragically young from a brain tumour in 2006, thereby depriving the world of a unique and beautiful mind. We can’t afford to lose people like him...

THE UNKNOWN TERRORIST, by Richard Flanagan
A Sydney pole dancer saves the money she earns from her faintly dubious work because she is determined to lift herself into something more substantial, more meaningful. She is well on her way to achieving this when she has a one night stand with an attractive young Arab. They following day she’s reading the paper when he is named as a possible, (probable, definite?- it doesn’t matter, the media has already made up its collective mind) Al Qaida member. Then, CCTV footage emerges which appears to show him, and a young woman, cuddling outside his apartment. The press pull out all the stops to identify the mystery girlfriend, and The Doll (which is how Flanagan describes her) knows it’s only a matter of time before they track her down.

Richard Flanagan has carved himself a rep as one of Australia’s leading novelists, having won numerous awards including the Booker, and here he is at his best, with a sensitive and highly skilled analysis of hope, despair and a media that cares little for anything beyond ratings. Superior thriller-writing...