Showing posts with label nadine gordimer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nadine gordimer. Show all posts

Thursday, 14 June 2012

Nadine Gordimer, The Pickup


nadine gordimer the pickup


Strange book, strange ending.  I actually said this out loud right after I finished The Pickup.

I wanted to read some of Nadine Gordimer's fiction for quite a while.  I love her essays (as you can see for yourself here and here), I respect and admire her writing style.  What convinced me, though, was Gordimer's claim that her novels contain more truth than her non-fiction.  A proud claim, almost a dare.  I just couldn't resist.

The Pickup didn't shatter my world.  It did not provide a life changing revelation, it didn't even make it to my list of the best books of all times.  I doubt if a year from now I'll be able to recall any details.  Still - it is a damn good book.  Definitely not fluff.

A well-connected South African girl meets a guy, an illegal immigrant who soon is on his way to deportation.  In a rather dramatic twist, she decides to follow him to his homeland, a desert village in an unnamed Islamic country.  A clash of cultures provides background to musings on life, love, values, society and the usual 'what it's all about' questions.  Read the book if you want to find out how the story ends.

The tale would do with a more clearly defined ending, but somehow one feels that here the story is not so important.  I'm convinced the plot is just an excuse to philosophy - and I take my hat off to Gordimer for precisely this reason.  Stories, I think, tend to be banal, questions about the human condition are universal.

The Pickup is a language feast, but I've learnt to expect this when reaching for any Gordimer's book.  Kind of poetic, but not quite, with a note of melancholy and metaphysical heaviness but without pseudo-scholar linguistic parades.  Just the right balance between descriptions, action and the inner workings of characters' minds.  Still, there's one thing that stands out even more.

I've read quite a few books about the Arab culture written by Westerners, Western women in particular.  They all read like horror stories - traumas, slavery, lack of freedom, male dictatorship, you know the drill.  The Pickup is the very first instance where being a Western woman married to a Muslim is not presented as a nightmare.  More, in an astonishing role reversal, it is the Islamic male that feels trapped and unhappy within his culture, while the Western woman fits right in.  I was halfway through the book before I realised this, but to me, it is the most profound contribution that this piece of writing brings.  If we want to do away with the demons of the  East-West conflicted culture clash, we could start with producing more books like this one.

One more thing - a review on the cover claims that The Pickup is a modern Romeo and Juliet story.  This is the ultimate proof that being a reviewer for The Times doesn't mean you're always right.

Sunday, 6 May 2012

Nadine Gordimer, The Essential Gesture

nadine gordimer the essential gesture


Reading Nadine Gordimer has a refreshing effect on someone (eee... me) whose day-to-day occupation consists mainly of writing for so-called writing platforms (marketplaces in sketchy disguise).  Professionally I'm often in touch with people who cling for their dear lives to the idea that there is no difference between a writer and a copywriter.  Sparks fly, no need to add.  And my frustration mounts.  Then enters Nadine Gordimer in her non-fiction outfit and reminds me what is a function of a writer - in her usual powerful, beautiful style.  Hint:  this function is NOT selling crap to people.  For this reason I will always love Nadine Gordimer, but praises for her definitely shouldn't stop here.

Gordimer has always been a fighter against apartheid, against censorship, against all sorts of observable injustices.  I haven't read much of her fiction - one book perhaps, and I can't even remember the title - but her non-fiction has always left me breathless.  She's political, oh yes.  Yet, I have a feeling that she's not being political for politics sake, but because in some circumstances it is not possible to remain human without being political.  I sense tremendous amount of compassion in her writing, as well as courage to defend the truth as she saw it, even if it happened to be an inconvenient truth.

The Essential Gesture is no different.  It is subtitled Writing, Politics and Places and this rather neatly sums up what the book is about.  I've grown to consider essays on writing and opposition to apartheid a standard Gordimer's fare, what's new here (for me) is travel writing. The book includes a few short travelogues, among which The Congo River stands out as the best piece of travel writing I have read so far, anywhere.  I didn't expect it but hell - give me more of such surprises, please!

If I were to find a fault in this overall amazing essay collection, it would be this:  some pieces are slightly too detailed, too involved, too remote to identify with for a foreign reader.  I'm guessing they were written for South African audience (some are actually records of Gordimer's speeches), so I'm not really complaining, only...  observing.  Let's blame the editor - he's the one who made the selection, not entirely relevant to international readership.  Even so, it's only a minor glitch, don't let it scare you off the otherwise fantastic book.

Wednesday, 28 December 2011

Nadine Gordimer, Living in Hope and History: Notes from Our Century

nadine gordimer living in hope and history: notes from our century

Literary Nobel Prize tends to be a good book recommendation...  but wait, didn't I say just that in my last post?  I did, but Nadine Gordimer gives me a good reason to repeat it.  Living in Hope and History is my second encounter with this delicious writer and I'm looking forward to reading more. 

If you've read any more of this blog, you also already know that I love essays - another reason to savour Living in Hope and History.  Essays collected in this book can be roughly divided into two main groups:  those on writers and those on evils of apartheid (sometimes combined in the same piece).  There's more than that - as it should be in works written over a few decades - but sooner or later one of the two subjects surfaces.  I'm damn glad it does. 

While I'm not too hot on the apartheid bit (simply because of not being very familiar with it), I fell in love with Gordimer's deliberations on writing and a writer's position in today's society.  She makes the profession sound noble, more than that, she inspires writers, potential or otherwise, to strive for nobility.  

'Nobility' can mean something different to each individual, but for me it has much to do with the truth, with speaking of the truth loudly and clearly, unafraid of its inconvenience or unprofitability.  I spend a lot of time in virtual company of affiliate marketers presenting themselves as 'writers' and often end up bitter and disappointed under heavy showers of self-explanations these people create in defence of their profession.  Then along comes Gordimer, with her powerful words on writers as speakers of the truth (whatever this truth may happen to be) even in the face of adversity and I feel like I've just been given a breath of the fresh air.  There are people in the world who speak the truth even if their books are banned or burned, even if they themselves are being imprisoned, exiled, persecuted.  They don't give up.  They keep on repeating the politically incorrect truths because ultimately - the truth is more important, more powerful than politics.  Compared to that, all marketers of the world can go hang, they are not worth anyone's time and definitely not worth my upset. 

If, by any chance, you happen to be a writer struggling to oppose ever-present selling out or simply in need of inspiration, then Living in Hope and History is a must for you.

If you are anyone else, it will simply be a highly enjoyable, well-written book.

Oh, if you are a 'writer' who employs his skill in affiliate marketing, do not read it.  It will only make you sad.