Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut

I am happy and sad.  Happy because I had not read this novel before.  Sad  because, now I have finished it, I have read all of Kurt Vonnegut's novels.  They ain't making them like that anymore.  *Sigh*

Bluebeard is subtitled The Autobiography of Rabo Karabekian. It is the story of a one-eyed man (one-eyed both physically and metaphorically). We have met Karabekian before in Breakfast of Champions and tangentially in Deadeye Dick.  As with quite a few Vonnegut novels, this tale starts near the end of the narrative timeline.  The story then alternates between the present and the past.  As is also the case with other Vonnegut novels, this is also an inter-generational tale.

Rabo Karabekian is the child of two survivors of the Armenian "genocide" in Turkey during the First World War.  The elder Karabekians make their way to California via Egypt, having lost a fortune on the way, and start a family.  Later, Rabo shows some talent as an artist and, through a convoluted sub-plot, becomes apprenticed to America's foremost illustrator.  It is a hard and bitter apprenticeship, and finally Rabo eschews realism, preferring to specialise in abstract expressionism.  For one reason or another, he becomes a successful artist and a wealthy man.  Despite this, Rabo is haunted by regret, bitterness and disillusionment.  And then a certain person comes into his life ...

Thematically, Bluebeard is about the artificial extended families most of us manage to cobble together in the course of our lives.  Rabo says:

My parents were born into biological families, and big ones, too, which were respected by Armenians in Turkey.  I, born in America far from any other Armenians, save for my parents, eventually became a member of two artificial extended families which were reasonably respectable, although surely not the social equals of Harvard or Yale:
1. The Officer Corps of the Unites States Army in time or war,
2.the Abstract Expressionist school of painting after the war.

Of course, Rabo is not exactly correct in his generalisations: he also belongs to a little group of friends, with a kind of rotating membership, that is very important and influential in his life.

Vonnegut's characters are always deeply flawed, each in their own particular way.  There is is hope and despondency, rancor and good will, and yet each individual seems to contribute positively to the synergy of the group, producing unexpected outcomes in many cases.

Vonnegut meticulously builds up the layers of his tale, adding twists and turns that surprise or shock the reader. The dialogue is crisp and sharp, enhancing the insights into character and motivation already provided by the narrator. The alternation of narrative between the past and the present keeps the story rolling along while providing welcome respite.

Bluebeard is a reference to the Perrault fairytale about the one forbidden thing.  Apart from giving the book its title, it also provides Vonnegut with a device and a metaphor that runs throughout the novel.

I am  glad I read Bluebeard, and that I left it for last. Despite its dose of existential pessimism (and which of Vonnegut's tales doesn't contain it?), Bluebeard was hopeful enough and well-written enough to provide a pleasing full stop (for now) to my career as an amateur imbiber of Vonnegut novels.

Pyramids by Terry Pratchett

Cast your mind back to the late seventies and early eighties.  Remember when pyramids were all the rage?  Claims were made about their ability to keep razors sharp or to aid in personal physical rejuvenation.  Nonsense, perhaps, but there were people who truly believed in this stuff.  Maybe they still do.  Terry Pratchett used this phenomenon as the slender basis for the seventh novel in the Discworld series.

In this book, pyramids every bit as impressive as those of Egypt line the river of the desert kingdom of Djelibeybi.  Yes, they can put a sharp edge on anything, including rolling pins (or so it is written), but their main power is to take time from the future and flare it off harmlessly into the atmosphere in the present.  As a result, nothing has really changed in Djelibeybi for almost 7000 years, and there are people who want to keep it way.

Teppic, the son of king Pteppicyon XXVII, makes the extraordinary decision to acquire a trade in the world outside of the kingdom.  When Teppic returns from his apprenticeship seven years later he becomes the pebble that starts an avalanche of change.  What will become of Djelibeybi and its ancient culture? Whatever happens, it will probably have something to do with quantum.

Pyramids is an enjoyable book. While it lacks the memorable characters of the other Discworld novels, its structure is noteworthy.  There are multiple story lines running throughout the book.  These branch, intertwine, merge and branch again.  Pratchett frequently interrupts the main story with digressions to the numerous sub-plots, and here we meet more than a few minor players.  The reader has the opportunity to engage with these characters more thoroughly than they would in a strictly linear narrative; as a result, the story has a charming depth and diversity.

While it is not amongst the best of the Discworld novels, Pyramids is subtly comical and is sure to provide a satisfying reading experience.

The Man Who Knew Too Much by G.K. Chesterton

The Man Who Knew Too Much is an entertaining and surprising collection of stories - surprising because ... well, you will just have to read the book to find out why.  Let's just say it will challenge your notions of justice.

Horne Fisher is an accidental sleuth.  Possessing a razor-sharp intellect, Fisher is able to solve the numerous murder mysteries he happens upon in the course of his life.  He does this through acute observation, deductive logic and by drawing on his intimate knowledge of the intrigues of politics at the highest levels.  You see, Fisher is related to, or acquainted with, many powerful men, including the British Prime Minister, various cabinet members and those who attend them, and is aware of much of their dirty laundry.  This knowledge is a source of some pain and anguish to Fisher, and he calls himself "The Man Who Knows Too Much" because of it.

In the first tale in this collection of eight short stories, the reader meets a young and green journalist called Harold March.  During a ramble in the countryside, March makes the acquaintance of Fisher.  The two then witness an automobile accident, and so begins the first of the mysteries with which they will be involved in one capacity or another.  March plays little part in the adventures beyond being an incidental amanuensis to Fisher or an unwitting contributor to the solution of some of the mysteries.

The stories are set shortly after the First World War, and many of them involve political intrigues involving several northern European countries.  Chesterton intimates that another war is immanent.  In this he was correct but about fifteen years out in his reckoning - Chesterton died in 1936 and did not witness the Second World War.

Even though the stories are specific to their time, they are general enough to have a kind of timeless quality and be read with some satisfaction by a 21st century reader.  One story is jarring to modern sensibilities: the supposed true villains of the plot are the Jewish bankers of the time.  They are described in a very derogatory manner, and one wonders if this reflects Chesterton's own view or only that of his character.

If you like mysteries, The Man Who Knew Too Much is sure to satisfy.

Something Rotten by Jasper Fforde

Something Rotten is the fourth and final installment in the first series of Thursday Next novels. 

Readers of Fforde will be know this series takes place in an alternative reality that looks an awful lot like our own, except:  the year is 1985, there are vampires, werewolves and all manner of other supernatural beasties, and some people have extraordinary powers - such as the ability to travel through time or to enter into the fictional realities inside books.  In the previous book, The Well of Lost Plots, Thursday went into hiding inside a trashy novel called Caversham Heights.  

It is now over two years later:  Thursday has given birth to and started rearing a son, fathered by her now absent husband  Landen.  She decides it is time to come back to the real world and recover what she can of her old life.  If only it were that simple.  Old enemies resurface in new ways, and Armageddon may be just around the corner.  Can a croquet match really save the world from destruction?

Something Rotten is a much better book than its two predecessors.  The plot is well-constructed, the narrative is pacy throughout, with quite a few twists and turns to keep the reader interested and attentive.  Fforde adds extra life to the proceedings with wit and humor, and there is more than a few laughs to be had. 

I you haven't read anything by Jasper Fforde, I recommend The Eyre Affair, the first book in the series.  It can be read as a stand-alone novel; but once you have the taste, you may well want to consume more.  If The Eyre Affair is the tantalising entrée, then Something Rotten is the satisfying dessert.