Review: Life and other near-death experiences by Camille Pagan


What makes a good story for you? For me, it is all about life and death, about birth and tears, about the stuffing makes up human experience. I feel  short hanged if I leave a cinema without having laughed, or cried,  or both. I remember reading Jojo Moyes’ Me Before You one Christmas Eve, tear s streaming down my face. I was sad, but I was also content because that book had transported me, because I was living a fresh human experience through the written word. An in many ways, that is what I have just experienced while reading Life and Other Near-Death Experiences by Camille Pagan.

This is the story of a young woman hit by a double blow. Everything that she takes for granted – her relationship, her health – suddenly shifts, and she does what many of us might do in the circumstances. She takes off. Fortunately for Libby she is in a fictional world where, when she runs away to spend a month of a beach she meets a supportive older woman and an attractive pilot! Her time is full of ups and downs but by the end she is coming to terms with her changed life and ready to take on the challenges it poses.

I read this straight through on a two hour train journey, so it is a fairly quick read, but a good one. Life and Other Near-Death Experiences costs from £3.99 on Kindle and is out on 1 November.

Review: Satin Island by Tom McCarthy

Sometimes books don’t make sense until right at the end. Satin Island is one where I didn’t get it until I reached the acknowledgements!

Tom McCarthy explains that he wrote this book during a residency which, ‘I spent projecting images of oil spills onto huge white walls and gazing at them for days on end.’ It all begins to make sense …

Satin Island is told by U, a male anthropologist working for a big corporation. He is working on a project, the Koob-Sassen project, which remains opaque throughout the book as to intest and purpose, opaque to U as well as the reader.

McCarthy uses images of oil spills and stories of sabotaged parachutists from news stories in this novel, all as part of U’s ethnographic work. U tries to write a book, and fails, instead coating his walls with images from the news stories and delivering the ideas he derives from these as his contribution towards the project. He feels like he has failed, but his contribution is eventually received with accolades. And we are still unclear what he has contributed to.


In some ways, as I neared the end of this book, it made me think of Don De Lillo’s Cosmopolis. Both books submerge themselves under the surface of the corporate world,but De Lillo goes deeper, faster, and his world is more insane. I loved McCarthy’s Remainder, where you get sucked into one man’s world, sucked so deeply that you don’t realise just how insane it is until right at the end. Satin Island doesnn’t work so well for me, perhaps because U is less compelling: it is hard to write a persuasive corporate drone even if he is a drone with self-knowledge. His relationship with his girlfriend Madison seems bland and unfulfilling for him, which again makes it harder to care. This book works as an intelligent and intellectual analysis of the futility of the corporate world, but if you want a good read and a great introduction to McCarthy, try  Remainder.

Review: Rebecca at the Theatre Royal, Brighton

Should you read the book before seeing the play (or film?) I don’t know – there are arguements for both! This weekend a friend and I took my 13 year old daughter to see Rebecca, the stage adaptation of the Daphne Du Maurier book. D had never read it, I had read it many years ago and had made the decision not to refresh my memories before the play. I came out, however, with a burning need to re-read the book, and the impression of the ghost of many things unsaid.

The set is often the first thing that interests me in a play .. or otherwise! First impressions count and as the curtain rose I got just the right impression. The set was part crumbling mansion, part beach and it flexed perfectly with the scenes of the story. As the play opened a corpse is lowered down and placed under a boat which then forms the centre stage, just right for the theme of the story. The cast did a great job with the musical parts of the play, songs inspired by the period and very much in line with the coastal setting. As the first half of the play progresses we meet the new Mrs de Winter, watch her meet her in-laws and the staff. This part of the play is played for laughs – Maxim de Winter’s sister Bea and her husband Giles are comic characters and the young serving boy Robert is humorous in a way that I found over-the-top and distracting from the plot. Perhaps that’s what it takes to sell a story from 1938 to audiences in 2015 – the theatre was largely full, so the recipe to turn classic novel into entertainment is working. And the dog … I nearly forgot to mention the dog! Have a look at some of the reviews on the Kneehigh Theatre site for more on whether a puppet dog is a good addition to the play.

The mood of the play took a twist at the end of the first half and the the second part was in many ways more in line with the spirit of the novel, but still there is always the issue that you can fit far more detail into a book than a play. Mrs Danvers was marvellously evil, the new Mrs de Winter’s transformation from innocent to tainted took place, and Maxim de Winter became exposed as we saw his torment. The cast did a good job as the action moved to a climax and the impossible situation that Rebecca has left as her legacy played out. But still, the book is so much more.

Watch the play, then re-read the book, or read it for the first time. The play is good – it takes you from laughter to tears – challenging the emotions is one of my key requirements for theatre – but the book is better. I’m off for a quiet read…

First draft: Artist

He stares at the brush, at the row of primary coloured paint pots on the table in front of him. Ask him to cover a wall in magnolia and he knows what to do. Tell him to paint on paper and he is floored. Flawed. That’s why he’s here, flaws too large to cover with paint or paper, no amount of filler will…

“Go on. Paint whatever you want.”

He doesn’t want, stopped wanting months back, maybe years. She holds it out to him, chubby handled wooden brush, fine bristles metal bound, OT written in black marker in case he wants to take it out of the room. Wants. He doesn’t know what he wants. He’s still staring at the brush when she comes round again, places her hand on his, warm on cold, her soft skin on his callouses. A shiver runs through him.

“Which colour?” she asks, but she’s already guiding the brush to the yellow. “Just make a mark. It’s sometimes the first stroke that’s the hardest. Just let it flow from there.” And the paint trails from the brush, down the side of the pot, across the table and the paper is instantly marred. If there had been something that he had wanted to paint, it would have to fit with the fresh streak of sunshine that has been forced upon the page. Not his mark, and she’s moving on now, talking to the man across the room who has clearly been before. He is working on a half started canvas, making purple marks that, if he squints, might be flowers.

He stares at his page, paint continuing it’s sprawl without his input, drips falling from the brush. Spoilt.

“What about some blue?”

She’s back, and he pushes into her touch this time, until she forces the sunshine brush into the pot of blue, yellow smears into the pristine darkness.

“No!” He jerks his hand away, brush still in blue, jar teetering, tipping. Blue paint spreads, runs to the edge of the table and he backs away, chair scraping until he stands and it falls. She’s looking at him. The flower painter has paused to look too, brush in the air and Sam’s gaze is suspended as the purple paint pools on the end of the brush, until enough has moved to form a drop which falls, and movement starts again

“I’ll get a cloth,” she says. “Never mind. Accidents happen.”

He stands as she wipes.

“It’s okay. Just a spill.

Look, I’ve cleared it up.

Try again.

Do you want a clean piece of paper?”

The phrases brush the surface of his mind, and he watches her put a blank sheet on the table. She doesn’t try to put a brush in his hand this time, doesn’t try to touch him again. He’s still standing, can’t sit, can’t be here, can’t listen to her encouraging murmurs which build until he lunges forwards, swipes at the paint until the pots spin across the table, paint flies, crimson drips falling to the floor, on his hand, his shirt, as he stumbles back and the chair seizes at his ankles. He crumples and all he can see is red.

Review: The Crossing by Andrew Miller and The Other Side of the World by Stephanie Bishop


I’ve just read these two books and I think between them they do a great job of examining the challenges that becoming a mother places on self and identity. In The Other Side of the World Charlotte struggles to reconnect with the woman she was before children, and to find the time and energy to paint. Her husband, Henry, cannot face the thought of another English winter. Set in the 1960s, Charlotte is strangely contemporary. She is a painter until she becomes a mother, twice in quick succession. The uprooting she experiences as the family emigrates echoes the way in which she herself has been uprooted. This is an atmospheric story about travelling to the other side of the world in the 60s. The writing conveys the changing identity of becoming a new mother, losing yourself and finding your changed self. The scenery is vivid and Bishop does a good job of sharing both how the male and female lead characters feel. A good read, packed with emotion, the ending challenges every mother who has ever felt that her role is too much.


The Crossing is a strange book – but well worth a read. It asks questions about identity and motherhood and running away.  The writing, the language is restrained, and some part of it seems very male as it describes Tim and Maud’s growing relationship, and the birth of their daughter Zoe. In other ways the writing reflects Maud’s character: she is presented as a career woman, a woman who is attractive without knowing it, and ultimately it questions Maud’s role and ability as a mother.

Maud’s love of sailing drives the book. Along with her career as a research scientist, sailing seems the closest she can come to have a passion, and Miller’s book really took off as I read Maud’s struggles with a storm at sea. Like The Other Side of the World, there is ambiguity in the end. Maud is no longer the same person, no longer in the place where she started. Both books acknowledge that in becoming a mother one is no longer the same. And both expose the uncertainty in becoming someone new.

 

Review: Tenacity by JS Law


I’m never going on a submarine. I mean, it’s not like it was on my bucket list, but now I’ve read JS Law’s thriller in which he conveys the close quarters and claustrophobic atmosphere so well, I’m steering clear.

Tenacity is Law’s debut novel, and it tells the story of female naval investigator Danielle Lewis, known as Dan, as she tries to untangle the suicide of ‘Whisky’ Walker on board the HMS Tenacity just days after his wife Cheryl has been attacked and killed. I downloaded the book (out now in eBook, November in hardback) after meeting James Law at the Festival of Writing where he was running a session on dialogue.

Law’s story is impressive in itself: he has risen through the ranks of the Royal Navy, starting as an apprentice and spending the latter half of his career in the submarine service. He brings his experience to this book in a positive way – plenty of authentic detail, not too much explanation for the uninitiated. I think one of the strongest points of this book is the atmosphere: Lewis’s time on a submarine is critical to untangling the plot. She is surrounded by hostile men, in a community that protects its own, against a backdrop of a hostile environment, metal walls lines with pipes, while her bunk is amongst the bombs. In that setting the whispers and suppressed violence turn into outright attacks. Lewis wraps up the case, as required by fictional detectives, but many threads are left open, and I’ll be watching out for the next in the series where Danielle Lewis moves away from the submarine setting.

Tenacity costs from £6.49 for the eBook at time of writing.

Blindsided: Surgery, Couting Down

tiny bite through skin and bone meet brain

excavate the tumour centre until it collapses in on itself,

then draw it out

A shiver runs me through

I try to stop thinking about death, but what else do you do, stripped naked, inadequate pastel gown, cold plastic under me, knife poised above.

Horripilation

i can’t look up the risks again, scant reassurance, my phone and watch locked away, my clothes and shoes taken. No escape.

 

Hunger gnaws

 

cover one eye, then the other. when it’s done, whenif I wake, will i see the same? dead nerves, or merely crushed for time. will i bounce back?

 

Permanent damage Permanent damagPermanent damagPermanent damagPermanent damage
Permanent damagPermanent damagPermanent damagPermanent damage
Permanent damage Permanent damage Permanent damage
Permanent damage Permanent damage
Permanent damage

 

some improvement

Or

a blade through my nose, cutting into my brain.

so easy not to wake from that knife.

nothing

 

a wire in my arm now,

 

‘count back from 10’

 

10 my heart is breaking out of my chest

9 i don’t want to do this

8 air tears through my face

7 it will go wrong

6 leaded limbs won’t …

5 stop this please i want to get off

4 i’m going to die

3 i …

2

1

man exposed

Blindsided: In Magnetic Resonance Imagery

i have an appointment slot date meeting engagement rendezvous

to see / pour voir the blind seer

Have you read the guidelines to

my buttons, zip, belt buckle seized by unseen force, body pulled against cage walls

decide, resolve; to arrange the time of

remove all metal parts?

action of coming together

hollow at the base of the throat above the breastbone hoofprint of horse or deer

narrow opening shut close lock bolt contract

We were thinking of pacemakers, aneurysm clips

drink crystallised water cells align

wedding ring,

make ready, arrange, settle, place

hearing aid

head strapped in place

shrapnel.

i breathe seek calm seek

False teeth?

metal fillings? is amalgam magnetic?

Do you have any tattoos?

last thought transmission error as i vanish

Would you like some music?

return to white metal womb

Do you suffer from claustrophobia?

duly fitly sucked into

Hold this buzzer.

present yourself

Don’t move

place for assembling of troops

count the tracks

leaving my body want to leave it behind,

à point, to the point

some substitute teacher is in my classroom right now, guiding year eleven closer to their future

I am leaving them unguided

to pass through King Lear

while Jack White tells me love is blindness

rays resonate, scanning for the disease that’s in my flesh

[punctum: see point]

magnetic field align my protons, radioblast shoves them, adrift in my body, return to natural state

except … (somewhere in my head) quiet violence exists

[battle, fight between armies or fleets]

anschluss   annexation  realign my cells

[datus: given]

until …

[agree, settle]

(I’m no longer host)

All done now.

sound again

Blindsided: Zoetrope

[zoetrope n. wheel of life, from the Greek  ζωή zoe, life, and τρόπος, tropos, “turning”]

 

 

la ténèbre n’est point ténèbre devant toi

la nuit comme le jour est lumière

 

la ténèbre, c’est toujours ténèbre sans la vue

la nuit et le jour sont sans lumière

Contrast chart

lights on

 

 

 

 

 

 

lights off

 

 

 

 

 

 

lights on

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lights off

 

 

 

 

 

lights on

 

 

 

 

 

 

lights off

 

 

 

 

 

no lights

 

 

 

 

 

dot of light dart on black

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lights in my eyes

 

 

 

 

 

lights in the sky

 

 

 

 

 

 

blinding light

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

darkness

grey: cloudy, overcast,

dull, dim, dark,

sunless; gloomy,

dreary, dismal,

sombre, drab,

bleak, cheerless,

depressing, glum;

misty, foggy, murky

 

zebra flicks through the grass, shadow dancing on his side

until he’s gone, safe,

scent on the wind only clue

 

 

black, jet, death

charcoal, battle

fishscale glauca

gris blade

gunmetal, gunship

starred explosion

 

zoetropic images flicker,

running man, child entranced

then dance away

 

 

 

grey: characterless, colourless, nondescript, unremarkable, faceless; lifeless, soulless, passionless, spiritless,

insipid, flat, bland,

stale; dull,

uninteresting,

unimaginative,

 tedious,

monotonous,

anonymous

 

ttttap tap tap, film flickers through the reel of my

childhood

we really wanted a

video camera

 

 

ocean, knife, slate

spanish, steel

stone, ash

 

 

grey: unofficial, informal, irregular, back-door

 

 

train passes, rattle on rails, windows flicker and i can

see right through it,

world beyond

 

tanker, skin, platinum

sunbleached oak

silver, white, aglow

 

They checked my colour vision today

and contrast

black on white, then fading shades of grey.

the op’s next week, i said.

 

We’re just getting a baseline, he said, didn’t look at my face, showing me image after image until it all blurred, him and me, shades of grey.

 

i want black and white back.

i had a letter from the school again. They said that they hoped i was doing okay.

They are having a night out if i’d like to come.

 

i wouldn’t.

 

 

Just wait there, please. We’re going to test your visual field next. I need you to sit in the dark for thirty minutes so your retinas can adapt.

 

 

 

 

Sorry, we have to start again.

 

 

Kelly gets up, goes out, works, returns.

i wait.

Kelly tries to offer sympathy.

i don’t want it.

 

2

3

1

4

3

1

5, there isn’t 5, is there?

2

4

3

1

3

2

1

2

1

Was there supposed to be a light?

 

 

So it looks like the left eye is a little worse that the right.

 

i know

i …

can’t be there, white guy, black chair, black man, white coat, light out, lights on, glare defeats me.

 

stumble out, half sight no good as i ricochet down the corridor.

 

Did you know it is pressure on the inner side of the nerve that causes damage to the outer side of your vision? It crosses over, you see.

 

inside, outside,

 

i burst out of the hospital, daylight too bright, can’t drive home, can’t face the walk when

half my world is gone.

Running man

 

References and credits:

  1. La ténèbre from Taizé
  2. Zoetrope inspiration for word definitions derives from oed.com and etymonline.com accessed 1 April 2015.
  3. Zoetrope image from https://github.com/ndrwhr/andrewhoyer/blob/master/blog_archive/2011-09-28-building-the-zoetrope.md accessed 1 April 2015.
  4. Contrast chart image from https://www.good-lite.com/Details.cfm?ProdID=617 accessed 1 April 2015.
  5. Pelli Robson chart from http://www.psych.nyu.edu/pelli/pellirobson/ accessed 1 April 2015.
  6. Photo of Goldman field tester fromhttp://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/18/Goldmann_Perimeter.png accessed 1 April 2015.
  7. Drawing of Image of Goldman field tester http://www.perimetry.org/PerimetryHistory/images/Aubert5.gif accessed 1 April 2015.
  8. Running man from https://www.pinterest.com/pin/379920918534931445/ accessed 1 April 2015.