Currently reading: Les Miserables by Victor Hugo

I try to read one 'big book' each year - a major classic of the 19th century, usually aimed in some way at my current writing. These big undertakings are interspersed with lighter reading material to provide variety, but up until now the big projects have always eclipsed every other book I read throughout the year; sometimes their impact has been profound (eg. David Copperfield, which I read in 2010).

This year's marathon novel is Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. I'm reading it partly because I enjoyed the film, partly because I need to better understand early to mid 19th century France.

I'm currently halfway through. Here are my impressions:

1. I soon discovered that the film, which I had thought complex, is the most superficial rendering of the story imaginable. The book is simply epic in scale, and I don't use that word lightly - it is panoramic and deeply profound, with a huge cast of characters (which I'll come to shortly), a plot that spans many years, and themes that cover almost every aspect of the human condition. It's like a less impenetrable version of War and Peace.
2. The characterisation is generally masterful. Jean Valjean and the Thenardiers are particularly compelling, but for different reasons. However, some of the characters, even quite major ones, are less well constructed and Cosette is only believable as an abused child (she becomes vacuous and one dimensional when she grows up). I wish Javert was more rounded because the relationship between him and Jean Valjean is fascinating.
3.  At its best, the storytelling and the language is sublime. The narrative (and some of the characters) tend towards soliloquy, but it usually works.
4. However, the bad bits of the book are incredibly boring. The battle of Waterloo, of only passing direct significance to the story, is told in a huge section six chapters long; it is useful only because to understand France in the 19th century it's essential to understand Waterloo. There is also an incredibly long and minute description of a convent, again of extremely minor significance to the story as a whole, which could be infinitely improved by cutting these sections altogether.
5. The author's own voice frequently intrudes into the story, usually to provide thinly veiled political opinions. However, such is the power of Hugo's writing that even these bits are usually compelling!

One quote that particularly stood out to me:

"... and the kings resumed their thrones, and the master of Europe was put in a cage, and the old regime became the new regime, and all the shadows and all the light of the earth changed place, because, on the afternoon of a certain summer's day, a shepherd said to a Prussian in the forest, 'Go this way, and not that!'"

This novel is proving to be quite an adventure, and although it's not all an easy ride I'm sure I will enjoy it through to the end!

Now reading: THE GREAT STINK by Clare Clark

Image from http://goo.gl/MMr20

I have just started reading The Great Stink by Clare Clark. So far I have only read the first twenty or so pages but already I can sense this will be a rare pleasure. In the first chapter, we meet the main character (William May, a mentally damaged veteran of the Crimea) as he delves deep beneath the stinking metropolis of mid 19th century London. The first few pages are a sensory punch in the face. I haven't been able to get the impression of much of a plot just yet; the pace is slow, at least to begin with, but the description is sublime.

I've been meaning to read more contemporary historical fiction, and as this is my era I'm sure this book will reward my efforts. I will, of course, write a complete review when I am finished.

Here is the blurb from the Waterstones page:

William May returns to London after the horrors of the Crimean War. Scarred and fragile though he is, he lands a job at the heart of Bazalgette's transformation of the London sewers. There, in the darkness of the stinking tunnels beneath the rising towers of Victorian London, May discovers another side of the city and remembers a disturbing, violent past. And then the corruption of the growing city soon begins to overwhelm him and a violent murder is committed. Will the sewers reveal all and show that the world above ground is even darker and more threatening than the tunnels beneath? Beautifully written, evocative and compelling, with a fantastically vivid cast of characters, Clare Clarke's first book is a rich and suspenseful novel that draws the reader right into Victorian London and into the worlds of its characters desperately attempting to swim the tides of change.

A Mountain Writer's Christmas

Mountain Craft by Geoffrey Winthrop Young, 1920

I hope you all had a good Christmas! My last two days have been spent in the traditional manner, ie. much eating and drinking, opening of presents, some reading, and very little else. Plans to go walking today were scuppered by bad weather so instead I have taken the time to examine some of my presents that are particularly relevant to this blog and my writing.

My parents managed to find two books that I've been seeking for several years. The first is Mountain Craft by Geoffrey Winthrop Young, first published in 1920. This book was compiled from articles written by many leading mountaineers of the period, and can be viewed as the distillation of all mountaineering wisdom from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The impact of this book cannot be overstated. Similar projects had been undertaken before (ie. the Badminton Library volume on mountaineering), but never before on this scale and with this level of authority and confidence; in addition, previous books often relied heavily on opinion and tended to be light on facts backed up by evidence.

Geoffrey Young began the Mountain Craft project as a reaction against a spate of deaths in the British mountains, and due to the large numbers of climbers who died in the Great War. A new emphasis on safety emerged after 1918. Mountain Craft was the first complete instructional book on the subject written by experts with the specific intention of educating climbers and improving safety. Oscar Eckenstein contributed huge amounts of valuable data that in the present day provide vital insights into the craft of climbing over ninety years ago.

I briefly studied this book several years ago at the Alpine Club library but have always wanted my own copy. Nowadays they are rare, but now my growing mountain library boasts its own copy that I can study whenever I wish.

While skimming through yesterday I came across some real nuggets of wisdom:

"An axe as described weighs 3lb., and will be equal to any work usually met with on a mountain expedition. If the balance and the curves of the head come out well, it will cut ice clean and without any recoiling jar to the arms. Notches on the underside of the head of the axe, often seen in shop axes, are very objectionable."

"The coat should be of stout tweed. I use a specially made 'Double Twist' Scotch Cheviot, treated with alum, which renders it showerproof."

"A good pair of London-made boots will cost, pre-war, from £2,10s, to £3, and are worth the money. Never let your boots out of your possession."

"If you do not wish to feel cold, avoid getting hot."

There are also plenty of occasions when the writers of the late 1910s look back sneeringly on the Victorian era--particularly the 'gully period' of rock climbing which, it is claimed, held back the development of rock climbing for many years. In the early 21st century we now view this as a natural stage that climbing had to go through before it could progress, but it is interesting to read the perspective of men who actually lived through that age.

The second book I got for Christmas was a 1947 copy of Dickens' Scenes of London Life, taken from the original Sketches by Boz. It's illustrated by the amazing Cruikshank which add brilliant touches of period authenticity. I can't wait to read it given its relevance to the work I am doing on Alpine Dawn.

Caleb's List by Kellan MacInnes: book review

Caleb's List by Kellan MacInnes

Caleb's List by Kellan MacInnes (on blogger here and Twitter @KellanMacInnes) is a story with two equally important threads. Firstly, the author is an HIV/AIDS survivor who found the strength to rebuild his life through a love of hillwalking and the outdoors. Secondly, there is The List ... not Munro's List that every Scottish mountaineer is familiar with, but Caleb's List of twenty peaks visible from the top of Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh ("The Arthurs"). This book is an enchanting and meaningful blend of these stories. As Kellan climbs the peaks on Caleb's List, we learn about the life of Caleb himself and the deeper truths of the landscape all around.

Caleb Cash was a mountaineer who lived in Edinburgh at the end of the 19th century and start of the 20th. Unlike the upper middle class climbers of the era who had ample leisure time and funds at their disposal, Caleb was a humble geography teacher and therefore his mountaineering exploits tended to be less ambitious. Nevertheless, he was a true lover of the Scottish landscape and an early champion for environmental conservation. Caleb is vividly brought to life and I found it tremendously refreshing for a Scottish mountaineering book to focus on one of the unknown pioneers of the sport. For example, although I am a dedicated student of the history of climbing, I had no idea that Caleb Cash had explored the Cairngorms years before the Scottish Mountaineering Club. He was also a 'keen but appreciative critic' of the Ordnance Survey and pointed out many inaccuracies in the early maps of the Highlands. This man may not be remembered as universally as Sir Hugh Munro, but he certainly made his mark.

The wider historical and cultural context is also explored in a very engaging way, not only in the text itself, but also in the frequent illustrations and diagrams. The author is fascinated by the earliest history of exploration in the Scottish hills. The story takes us back to the Little Ice Age when the mountains were capped with ice throughout the summer. Early mapping, road-building, scientific experiments, and shieling life are all here.

But this is not just a book about hillwalking and history. At its heart this is powerful landscape writing that explores the strong bond between a person and the hills they love. Nature is also a key theme. I detected a clear link to Robert MacFarlane's work, which is really the greatest praise I can give this book; it makes you smell and taste the Highlands.

The author writes with skill and considerable authority. Not only has he climbed every peak on the list (some of them many times during his extensive hillwalking career), he has also made it his business to learn everything that can possibly be learned about Caleb Cash and his world.

If the book has any fault, I would say it does not focus enough on Kellan's own extraordinary journey, which is itself an inspiration. However is not enough to detract from the 5* rating I believe this book wholeheartedly deserves.

This is not a 'ripping yarn' about mountaineering catastrophe; it doesn't feature celebrity climbers, the highest peaks or the hardest climbs; and it certainly is not about breaking records or doing any of the things that commonly make it into contemporary mountaineering books. However, in a quiet, unassuming, and utterly enchanting way, this is one of the best books on the Scottish Highlands I have read in a long time.

You can find the book on Amazon, or direct from the publisher Luath Press.

Now reading: Caleb's List by Kellan MacInnes

Caleb's List by Kellan MacInnes

Chris Highcock recently attended the launch event of a new book about the Scottish mountains: Caleb's List by Kellan MacInnes. He kindly sent me a copy signed by the author as he thought it would be right up my street (or up my hill), and he's right!

From the publisher's website:

Edinburgh. 1898. On the cusp of the modern age. Caleb George Cash, mountaineer, geographer, antiquarian and teacher stands at the rocky summit of Arthur’s Seat.
His reason for standing there was to chart which mountains were visible from his point on the summit – The Arthurs. He came up with a list of twenty mountains (all over 100ft/300m high), including Schiehallion and Ben Lomond. Caleb’s list was first published in 1899, eight years after Munro published his list of mountains over 3000ft, and since then it has been all but forgotten.
This book tells the story of how Caleb’s list came about and provides directions and route descriptions for those wishing to climb the mountains on the list. More than just a climbing book, this is also the story of a survivor. The author was diagnosed with AIDS at the age of 33, and becoming an ‘Arthurist’ has helped him carry on with life.

This sounds like a mountaineering book with a difference, and for me it has the added interest of a late Victorian Scottish mountaineer as a central figure. I'd never heard of Caleb George Cash before so I'm sure this book will prove an education. I will be writing a review on this site as soon as I've finished reading it.

The Last Mountain by Malcolm Havard: book review

The Last Mountain by Malcolm Havard

I came across Malcolm Havard's book by chance on Amazon, and downloaded it on impulse. I'm an indie author of mountain fiction myself so wanted to do my bit to support the genre.

The Last Mountain is written from the point of view of Melvyn, who can only be described as an anti-hero. He is selfish, arrogant, lazy, and yet also ambitious. He is a financial and emotional drain on his long-suffering partner Fi. Despite his less admirable qualities, the story is simply riveting from the start; the reader sees Mel's bad decisions piling up, higher than you would have believed possible. Conscience versus ambition is a key theme here. There is a constant sense that Mel is going to deeply regret many of the things he has done.

The Last Mountain is a mountaineering story set in the Himalaya. Mel and Fi stumble across an expedition to climb an 8,000m peak, but something isn't quite right and things soon start going wrong. Given the tight 1st person POV, leisurely description and evocative building of setting aren't really this book's strengths, but on the other hand the environment is recreated vividly in the characters of the sherpas. This is very much a character-driven story. Many of the characters are unsympathetic in various ways, but this can be seen as a reflection of Mel's self-centred and arrogant personality. The only really sympathetic character is Fi.

At the start of the book I found myself thinking that perhaps Mel's bad qualities were overdone a little, that his character was too extreme, but actually as the book progressed and Mel was put through living hell, it balanced out. This is not a feel-good book; it's bleak and uncompromising, but it asks difficult questions about life and death in the mountains, and how bad choices can escalate to disasters. The stream-of-thought POV works well and provides an intimate window into Mel's troubled world.

As a climber I noticed a couple of small errors ('Stannage' instead of 'Stanage' and 'Peaks' instead of 'Peak', although the jury is out on that one!) There were also a few typos that I noticed here and there, but overall the presentation and formatting was professional.

The climbing parts of the story reminded me a little of the film Vertical Limit: personal conflicts and frequent disasters in a Himalayan setting. However, while Vertical Limit is ridiculous and often scoffed at by climbers, I felt The Last Mountain stayed on just the right side of the line between believable and unbelievable. Some of the situations may seem unrealistic at first glance, but then again true stories of mountain disaster often contain similar scenarios.

The one area where I think the story misses the mark is the character of Pete. He came across as far too extreme. I found myself unable to take him seriously as I was unable to empathise with his point of view. He just didn’t seem like a real person to me. That said, his actions in the climax of the book are open to interpretation; how much of it is real, and how much of it is in Mel's mind?

Ultimately I think it's all in Mel's mind, and that's the greatest strength of this story: an awful, disastrous misadventure with accumulating guilt, seen from a perspective that is completely open to interpretation. Read the book three times and I suspect the reader will draw three different conclusions. The ending is a shock but strangely poetic.

This book perhaps isn't destined to become a classic of the genre, but it is written with considerable courage and skill. It's at once shocking and unputdownable. Just another 'ripping yarn' this book certainly is not, and in a genre which has recently been accused of being formulaic, The Last Mountain breaks the mould.

Review: The History Of Pendennis

The History Of Pendennis by William Makepeace Thackeray

My rating: 3 of 5 stars
The History of Pendennis is the second of Thackeray's novels that I've read, and to my mind not quite as good as Vanity Fair. The central themes are powerful and skillfully woven into the story--namely, that happiness is always flawed and that there is no such thing as perfection--but the characters seem to lack vibrancy and I felt the ending wasn't as brave as it could have been. Thackeray spends an entire novel building Pen up as a deeply flawed and realistic character, yet in the final chapters his redemption almost seems to happen because Thackeray realised his readers wanted it.

Ultimately this is still a masterpiece of literature, with moments of genuine power and piercing insights into the tragedy of the human condition, but I've had to give it 3 stars purely because Vanity Fair is better!

Thackeray vs. Dickens

A big part of my reserach for 1848 has involved reading the fiction of the period. Most of my research for other projects had focused on the late 19th century, but this time I've had to step fifty years back in time. The 1830s and 1840s are associated in the popular imagination with quaint images of Dickensian London: honourable beggars, penniless yet happy paupers, magnanimous old gentlemen, and romantic gaslighting. Although Dickens has a big part to play in developing my understanding of the period, I wanted to broaden my perspective a little and try to find some alternative views of the fiction being produced in the period.

Enter W.M. Thackeray. A contemporary of Dickens, and in many respects his rival, Thackeray produced several lengthy novels in the serialised format popular at the time. His two greatest works are Vanity Fair and The History of Pendennis. I read Vanity Fair first of all, and although I initially found it a little difficult to get into (possibly because the style jarred with the Dickens I had been reading immediately beforehand) I soon came to appreciate that, in fact, Thackeray's more cynical view of the world offers the perfect counterpart to Dickens' slightly implausible storylines.

I'm now reading Pendennis and the impression is strengthened: Thackeray has striven to create novels without heroes; his main characters are deeply flawed and exhibit unpleasant behaviour. Dickens' heroes, for example David Copperfield, are often portrayed as having superficial flaws only. While Dickens is the champion for the beautiful aspects of the human spirit, and has created novels of tremendous power, I can't help thinking that Thackeray arrives at deeper truths by being more willing to accept the darker side of every character.

While factual research is very important in the prewriting stage for any novel, I'm a firm believer in the power of fiction to bring the facts to life in the writer's mind. No textbook on the grimy conditions of industrial London can compare with a vivid description in a contemporary novel.