The Ice Palace: Tarjei Vesaas

Image Credit: Peter Owens
Tarjei Vesaas is considered one of the greatest writers in Europe, and when you read a novel like The Ice Palace, which Doris Lessing calls "unforgettable" and "extraordinary," then you begin to understand why.

There is an icy chill that penetrates the language - set amidst the stark frozen winter of Norway, Vesaas' prose is poetry - a haunting evocation of the frozen landscape, both outside and within us. Two young girls, Siss (the narrator), and Unn meet one evening. An unspoken bond pulls them together, and the shared burden of secrets creates an awkward evening, one from which Siss runs away from. A hurt Unn skips school the next day, and instead goes to explore the fantastic Ice Palace - a sheer mass of icy caverns formed near a waterfall. Unn is never to be seen again but Siss is bound by the memory of her friend, and recreates in herself the loneliness that she thinks Unn went through.

But really The Ice Palace is not about the plot, or the story, or something as mundane as that. The book is a sensual delight, an exploration of the haunting meaning behind words, the poetry in ice, snow and winter, and a psychological study of an 11-year-old's commitment to friendship and memory. I finished the book late in the night, and Vesaas' haunting prose created an atmosphere of suspense, and dread - so much so that it was a while before I found myself calm enough to sleep! Vesaas' themes are universal - death, guilt, acute loneliness, and isolation - all predominantly modernist themes. The Ice Palace combines all four, and provides us with a cold, haunting, and vivid insight to cherish for lifetimes to come. As Peter Owens, the publishers exhort - read it. Marvelous.

Verdict: Classic

Rating: 5/5

Update: Thanks to Peter Owens for sending the latest version of this masterpiece with a new cover, available at Peter Owens.

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan: Lisa See

Image Credit: Lisa See
I haven't been reading much lately. All my time seems to be settling into the skies of the past, and I have comfortably returned to my "I can't seem to like any book I pick up" phase. Reader's block, anyone?

But I did read Lisa See's wonderful Snow Flower and the Secret Fan a while back. A fascinating read it was too. Lisa See is Chinese-American, although she doesn't look Chinese, and her book is based on an actual tradition that existed in early 19th century China. Suffocated, and cloistered inside their houses, women of that time had no freedom - their foot binding prevented them from the simple joy of walking, and rigid male control did not allow them interactions with society as the men knew it. But these women developed a secret writing - nu shu - understood only by women, and hidden from men's eyes. Lily, one of the protagonists in the novel learns nu shu from an early age, and the book revolves around her laotong, or "same same," and the evolution of their friendship. (Laotong are kindred spirits, allocated to each other through a matchmaker, they have a contract similar to marriage, and provide each other the emotional sustenance that was lacking in many of the arranged marriages at that time).

"A laotong match is as significant as a good marriage," Lily's aunt explains in the book. "A laotong relationship is made by choice for the purpose of emotional companionship and eternal fidelity. A marriage is not made by choice and has only one purpose – to have sons."

Lyrically written, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is as much history as fiction. Lisa See extensively researched for the book, and every practice that she has detailed here did exist in China at that time. Compelling, riveting, charming, and beautiful, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is a must read.

"I am a lowly woman with the usual complaints, but inside I also waged something like a man's battle between my true nature and the person I should have been."

Verdict: I repeat again. Must Read.

Rating: 5/5

Without Blood: Alessandro Baricco

Image Credit: Kimbofo
I chanced upon this slim volume, lying hidden amidst a pile of "desperate-to-be-sold" books at the bookstore. The other books really looked like they deserved this desperation but there was something to Alessandro Baricco's Without Blood that made me pick it up.

There is a silken, mesmerizing quality to Without Blood. It begins with one of the most dramatic openings I have read - four men meet in a farmhouse, and settle an old feud with a former doctor. Nina, the doctor's daughter is the only one who survives the bloody massacre but that is only due to Tito, the youngest assassin who finds her hiding, and who in a moment of redemption spares her.

Fast forward 52 years later, and we find Nina meeting Tito. Through this conversation laced with delicate intrigue we are led to understand that Tito is the only survivor now - the others were murdered. You think the obvious - Tito is the next target. But Baricco is masterful - he draws us closer to an end that is neither predictable or common, but is wonderfully illuminating about the vastness of the human sphere. Complexly beautiful.

Without Blood can be read in just around 45 minutes or so, and it is well worth it if we can make space in our life for those 45 minutes. Because some moments from this book, especially the classic ending deserve a special memory in our time and space - they will last 52 years too.

Verdict: Outstanding.

Rating: 5/5

The Outcast: Sadie Jones

Image Credit: Fictionwritersreview

What an outstanding debut! If I ever were to write a book, this would be the sort of first book I would dream of writing. Crystal-clear poignant writing, startling psychological insights, gripping plot, characters who resonate in your consciousness, and a powerful urgency that makes you want the book to continue long after it ended. The Outcast by Sadie Jones just cannot get better as a debut.

Sometimes reading is not about the big, classic prose. It is not about 1000 pages of history-making epics. Reading is sometimes just an echo into a world not ours. The Outcast achieves the latter perfectly. Young Lewis Aldridge is damaged for life when his mother drowns in a river, while he watches, and then struggles to rescue her. The incident scars relations with his father, who withdraws into himself and treats Lewis as an "outcast" than the love that the lad craves. Alice, his step-mother tries hard but the relationship between Lewis and her is fraught with tension. Cursed with a violent temper, Lewis grows up misunderstood, much maligned, and eventually thrown into the harsh edges of society's unforgiving judgment. I have a temper myself, and at every step I found myself almost mentally wishing Lewis not to lose his temper, not to get angry, and not to retreat into the violence his damaged soul craves. Trust me, I identified with Lewis. There is only person who understands Lewis despite his torn soul - and that is Kit. But do "Kit and Lewis remain intact and find their way to each other" amid the mess and muddle of "violence, sex, parental responsibility, love and emotion?" I would be spoiling the book for you if I told you that, wouldn't I? :-)

Throughout the novel, Sadie Jones keeps the tension up. The atmosphere is claustrophobic as it builds up towards what is admittedly, in the only drawback of the plot, a very staged climax. But The Outcast is stunning. A remarkable debut, and I hope Sadie is writing more!

• Trivia: The Outcast was shortlisted for the 2008 Orange Prize for Fiction.

• Video: Watch a Felix Wiedemann directed trailer by the National Film & Television School.

Verdict: Brilliant.

Rating: 4/5

The Summer of Katya: Trevanian

I have been reading one thrilling book after another. After Last Horizon, I picked up The Summer of Katya by Trevanian, which I had bought just a couple of weeks back. It said it’s a psychological thriller and I am very, very keen on reading these. The story is about Montjean, a doctor fresh out of college in Paris, who comes to practice in the Basque countryside. He is taken on as an apprentice by Dr. Gros but Montjean finds himself with nothing more to do than grinding powders and performing small diagnoses. So the rest of the time is spent sitting under trees, enjoying the brilliant sunshine of summer and writing poetry. On one of these lazy days, Montjean meets Katya who comes running to him for help in treating her brother Paul. Thus begins Montjean’s trysts with the entirely strange family. The Trevilles, that is Paul, Katya and their father, stay in an isolated part of the village and don’t mingle much with the villagers. Montjean falls hopelessly in love with Katya but finds himself also entangled in very weird situations and circumstances.

This is one of Trevanian’s lesser known novels but I loved it for the perpetually tense atmosphere that is created even in the middle of Montjean’s romance. The characters are sketched out very well especially Paul, whom you have mixed feelings for. His acerbic wit and changing disposition like fleeting clouds make you wonder if he is the villain of the story. But the chilling finale leaves a sense of uneasiness and tingles down your spine. I wouldn’t say it was totally unexpected, at least for me, but it still chills you. The beauty of the book is that it subtly explores the different facets of the human mind without being very overt about it. The entire ambience in the novel is heavy with incident waiting to happen. Trevanian’s writing is beautiful and graphic. I was able to picture every scene vividly in my mind, and if it were a movie I had even decided the actors to fill each role and I was playing it out in my mind. I can say I read a book and watched a movie with Trevanian.

Verdict: Superb read. I am waiting to pick up a couple of his other books

Rating: 4/5