“A celebrity is one who is known to many persons he is glad he doesn’t know.” (Lord Byron)

This week I thought I’d look at book recommendations from my celebrity friends.  That’s a total lie of course, I don’t have any friends.

Youve-ended-friendships-over-book-disagreements

Stylist magazine is given out free on public transport, and a couple of weeks ago it featured an interview with Hayley Atwell, where she recommended The History of Love by Nicole Krauss.

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As we are all in thrall to celebrities these days and do whatever they suggest (is there any woman left alive who doesn’t regularly steam her vagina, as recommended by our favourite emotionally labile conscious uncoupler, Gwyneth Paltrow?) I thought I would follow Hayley’s suit.

The History of Love is Nicole Krauss’ second novel, a multi-layered story set predominantly in modern-day New York, but with frequent reminiscences back to pre-war Eastern Europe. Leo Gursky is an elderly man who lives alone and has a chronic fear of not being noticed, leading him to small acts of flamboyance: deliberately knocking over things in stores, nude modelling for an art class. Many years ago, the Nazi invasion of Poland separated him and the woman he’d loved since he was 10 years old.  He follows her to the US, but they cannot be together:

“The truth was I’d given up waiting long ago.  The moment had passed, the door between the lives we could have led and the lives we had led shut in our faces.  Or better to say, in my face.  Grammar of my life: as a rule of thumb, wherever there appears a plural, correct for singular.  Should I ever let slip a royal We, put me out of my misery with a swift blow to the head.”

Meanwhile, across the city, teenage Alma’s grieving mother is translating The History of Love, a book Leo wrote but is unaware was ever published.  As Alma becomes drawn into the history of the manuscript and the real people fictionalised therein, the stories interweave, expanded by the surrealism present in the translated manuscript:

There was a time when it wasn’t uncommon to use a piece of string to guide words that otherwise might falter on the way to their destinations […] Sometimes no length of string is long enough to say the thing that needs to be said.  In such cases all the string can do, in whatever its form, is conduct a person’s silence.”

There is also a great deal of gentle humour, such as Leo’s description of his aged best friend:

“the soft down of your white hair lightly playing about your scalp like a half-blown dandelion. Many times, Bruno, I have been tempted to blow on your head and make a wish. Only a last scrap of decorum keeps me from it.”

The History of Love crams a lot into a short space (less than 260 pages in my edition). It is a warm, humane contemplation of love, loss, the ties that bind, memory and identity.  Krauss does all this with a light touch which keeps the novel highly readable, and truly moving.  Nice recommendation, Hayley Atwell.

As I was thinking about books and Hayley Atwell, this reminded me of the TV adaptation of William Boyd’s Any Human Heart, in which she starred with Matthew MacFadyen.

boydAny-Human-Heart

A quick google of “Matthew MacFadyen favourite novel” and I have my second recommendation, A Perfect Spy by John Le Carre.  A Perfect Spy is Le Carre’s most autobiographical novel, telling the story of Magnus Pym, the eponymous agent:

“In build he was powerful but stately, a representative of something. His stride was agile, his body forward-sloping in the best tradition of the Anglo-Saxon administrative class.  In the same attitude, whether static or in motion, Englishmen have hoisted flags over distant colonies, discovered the sources of great rivers, stood on the deck of sinking ships.”

Following the death of his shyster father Rick, Pym retreats to the Devonshire coast to write the story of his life. Meanwhile, his controllers try to piece together the same story. What emerges through his damaged childhood, private school, Oxford and the secret service is a man with a permanently shifting sense of self, a tenuous identity that makes him so perfect for duplicity:

“Never able to resist an opportunity to portray himself on a fresh page, Pym went to work. And though, as was his wont, he took care to improve upon the reality, rearranging the facts to fit the prevailing image of himself , an instinctive caution nevertheless counselling him restraint.”

A perfect spy indeed. But A Perfect Spy is not an espionage thriller.  Instead it is a detailed portrait of a man who struggles within the forces that surround him: his dodgy father, his spymasters, his country, and tries to find intimacy and meaning whilst utterly defeating himself at every turn.  Pym’s feelings towards his spymasters are those of fear, contempt, hero-worship and love:

“a handsome English warlord who served sherry on Boxing Day and never had a doubt in his life” who summarises Pyms life as “concentric fantasies…defining the truth at the centre”

and across the Iron Curtain “Axel was his keeper and his virtue, he was the altar on which Pym had laid his secrets and his life.  He had become the part of Pym that was not owned by anybody else” who says of Pym “sometimes I think he is entirely put together from bits of other people”

What Pym is left with is a life built on so many versions of the truth that he’s forgotten which hold true meaning for him.  A Perfect Spy is bleakly funny and sad, a deeply felt study of what it means to be a man at a certain time in British history. Its elegiac quality is not only for Pym, but for a nation, and the damage inflicted both by people on each other and by governments on citizens, at home and abroad.

“Putting down his pen, Pym stared at what he had written, first in fear, then gradually in relief. Finally he laughed. ‘I didn’t break,’ he whispered. ‘I stayed above the fray.’”

You can listen to John Le Carre discussing A Perfect Spy by downloading the podcast from BBC World Book Club here.

To end then, something that captures my own conflicted feelings about being British.  On the one hand I’m glad I live in a country where this is a thing, on the other hand I think every last participant is completely insane:

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28 thoughts on ““A celebrity is one who is known to many persons he is glad he doesn’t know.” (Lord Byron)

  1. Great book recommendations, but… steam it?!? Good heavens! Sometimes I’m glad I’m getting old…

    And haha, loved on the vid how at the end of each run they show someone being carted off on a stretcher. The true British spirit! 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    • I know! I’m sure Gwyneth’s advice was well-intentioned but I sincerely hope there’s not a single woman who paid any attention to it!

      I can’t believe people risk such injury, but then cheese-rolling is a serious business 😀

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I loved the Krauss. And I also love your bloggy mix of serious thought and the seriously anarchic and wacky. Paltrow’s advice sounds even more bizarrely dangerous than the cheese rolling, and created a disturbing vision of a kind of mixed sporting event of a combination of the two.

    Moving hurriedly to just cheese rolling, I think the spectators might be a weird as the rollers. ‘what shall we do today darling?’ let’s go and watch some people injure themselves ‘ ‘good call!’

    Liked by 1 person

    • Haha! The thought of a rolling/steaming sporting event is truly disturbing. You’re right, spectating at the event is an odd choice, when you think you could see some gruesome injuries. It definitely wouldn’t be my preference for a fun day out, I’m far too squeamish!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I’m just reeling from that thing about Gwyneth – and I googled it (a little nervously, I confess) and you weren’t making it up…. The women is seriously strange. But I’m glad you got some good book recs – I keep thinking about reading more classic spy lit.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Nope, definitely not making it up, I’m not imaginative enough to come up with something so wacky 😀
      In may ways A Perfect Spy isn’t a spy story as there’s no espionage, but it is an excellent study of the fall-out from spying.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. I’m sorry but me too, I’d never heard of vagina steaming and had to go to google. I’m not sure if I’m comforted by the fact she’s having it done at a spa and not hopping up on the kitchen surface and traumatising the kettle, or if it’s worse someone else is doing the job. I dread anything at the doctors that involves taking off my knickers, even if it’s potentially lifesaving and important routine test.

    But yes, back on topic, I read Karl Ove Knausgaard because a tweet from Paul Bettany told me how great it was.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Do you know, I’d assumed she was doing it herself, but she’s paying someone for that nonsense? As you say, I’m not sure if that’s better or worse!

      Good recommendation from Paul Bettany – at least there are some celebrities we can rely on for sage counsel 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  5. I love this post! I too have no friends so I rely on recommendations from famous folk as well as stalking blogs like yours 😉

    You teach me so much! Gwynnie’s vagina, books that sound marvellous like The History of Love, TV adaptations AND the fact that a mankini is perfectly acceptable attire to chase cheese.

    Never change my dear! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I just couldn’t get into The History of Love. From memory I read most of it but didn’t finish… I don’t know why, it’s most unlike me.
    Must admit, I did love Stylist magazine when I was in London last year – the perfect read for a train ride. Wish we had something similar in Aus (but I imagine there’s not enough people to sustain such a thing here).
    Cheese rolling is on the agenda for my next British visit, obvs.

    Liked by 1 person

    • It’s definitely not for everyone – one of my friends read The History of Love for her book club, and she hated it, although she wasn’t really sure why.

      We have a different magazine for every day of the working week here, but Stylist is the only one I read – it doesn’t take itself too seriously (and gives me book recommendations). I would hope Sydney/Melbourne/Brisbane could sustain a magazine? I do forget how ridiculously crowded London is, but I think the free magazines are given out in Manchester & Edinburgh too.

      Its definitely better to be a spectator than a participant in cheese rolling – it’s a dangerous pastime, you don’t want your holiday to end up with a rearrangement of your bones!

      Liked by 1 person

      • For years we had a newspaper (very lightweight articles) that was free on the trains but it folded last year – not enough readership to sustain. I guess people look at their phones at the end of the day rather than attempting to read a newspaper on a crowded train…
        The thing that made me laugh in that video clip was the commentator who just ends up saying “Ouch….ouch ouch….ouch.”

        Liked by 1 person

        • That’s very true – I think most of the free magazines are downloadable, and although I sometimes feel depressed at the sight of everyone staring blankly at their phones, it does cut down on litter – probably the paper copies will be phased out.

          Ouch is probably the understatement of the year 🙂

          Like

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