GBRYIR 2012 - because Christmas is all about giving

Because this is what comes up when
you Google image "GBRYIR"

I hope you’re all enjoying your December and (like me) using the festive period as your annual excuse to eat, drink and be lazy.

And as if Christmas wasn’t enough to blow your mind once a year, now it’s time for the GBRYIR!!!! (That’s "Gav’s Book Reviews Year in Review", because we continue to love acronyms). Consider it my present to you, because I'm not getting you anything else.

It’s been a big year at GBR. We’ve diversified. We’ve had cards made. We’ve doubled our readership. We’ve started talking of ourselves in the third person. All major milestones.

But no one cares about milestones. You care about awards, right? Here you go then, you impatient, loveable lot. I've even gone link-crazy with it, because I'm so web-savvy.

Best “first”: This year saw a number of firsts for GBR. First book fair covered. First mid-week show review. The first ever 0 GBR score. But by far my favourite first was the first GBR Author Interview, with non-other than my personal man-crush Glen Duncan. He left me a voicemail when we were setting the interview up, and I still listen to it every now and then, misty eyed. Which sounds creepy. And probably is.

Most read review: For some reason, City of Thieves got a lot of love. I think it may have been because, for a short time, the pic I used came up at the top of Google Images results. So I may have to discount that as most read review. The most genuinely read review was How I escaped My Certain Fate. The first of the year, so it has a slight advantage in that it’s had more time to accrue readers, but we can’t blame it for that. In its defence, it did get an unholy amount of hits in its first few weeks as well.

I’m pretty happy with that. Maybe Stewart Lee will notice and we can become best pals now. It'd save me having to stalk him so much.

Most read post: This year’s diversification meant my most (genuinely) read post wasn’t even a review. It was the write up of seeing Wilbur Smith at the Edinburgh Book Fair. You guys couldn’t get enough of that. I’m fairly certain it was because of my very cheesy photo with him. Shame I had to spoil it all by really panning his book.

Got me weak at the knees, this one

Best book: No contest. There were three 10 GBR scores this year. One for American Gods. One for Vernon God Little. But the one book I can’t take my eyes off when I look at my bookshelf is Lights out in Wonderland.

It’s not a new book, just one I caught onto late. But I’m glad it’s in my life now. If anyone can knock Glen Duncan off top spot in my author affections, it might well be DBC Pierre. The guy can flat out write. His is the kind of writing that literally leaves your spine tingling and your heart racing. It's books like this that remind me why I read in the first place. I had to take rests to calm down. Honest to God, rests. You may have a different reaction. Because you may have bad taste in books. Which may not be your fault, but is something you should be ashamed of.

So the GBRBOTY (Gav’s Book Reviews Book of the Year) award for 2012 goes to Lights out in Wonderland by DBC Pierre. *crowd roars*

Worst book: Again, no contest. It goes to the only book I’ve felt compelled to give a 0 GBR score to. A book I found absolutely no merit in. A book I felt the need to warn you off. A book I felt guilt about panning, but thought it was the only thing I could do if I was to be entirely honest.

That book is Those in Peril. Let’s not waste any more time on it.

Best comment: GBR went comment-tastic this year, with a bunch from people I’ve never even met before. To be fair, there are an awful lot of people I've never met. The word, it seems, is spreading.

My favourite? To be serious for half a second, it was all of the ones left on this post. I was nervous writing it, but felt the need, so decided not to worry, and instead just write and see if it made me feel better. It didn’t.

Worst comment: Sorry Garth H Bairstow, but you’re a winner here. Mainly because of your apparent inability to Google a question to find the answer yourself:

Can you help. I am trying to find out in which of Wilburs books Sean Courtenay was killed by his son. Yours Faithfully Garth H. Barstow on Wilbur Smith at the Edinburgh Book Fest - "Don't tell anyone, but I've got a Kindle"

Remove content | Delete | Spam Garth H. Barstow on 05/10/12

So that’s that. Year two of GBR in the history books. We’ve come a long way since the first tentative post. (Yeah, I even linked to that one. POW!) Here’s to bigger and better things in 2013. And if not bigger and better, then at least more of the same.

HAPPY NEW YEAR CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY TIME EVERYBODY!!!

Vernon God Little - giving in easily

Vernon God Little by DBC Pierre (Faber and Faber: 2003). In the aftermath of a high school tragedy, 15 year-old Vernon Gregory Little stumbles through the ridiculous environment of small-town Texas, put deep in a hole by the people around him through a mix of their ignorance, opportunism, ambition, desperation and depression. Seemingly the only voice of reason, Vern does what he can to stay alive and grow up just as quickly as he can.

I showed absolutely no will power with this. I was supposed to save it for a while. It wasn’t that long ago I read Lights out in Wonderland, and got a little weak at the knees about it. I wanted to give it some time before I subjected you to another hero worship of a blog post.

But then I thought, what the hey. If this is as good as I expect it to be, what is the point in delaying the fun. And if this is as good as I expect it to be, then I need to tell you about it as soon as I can, so you can get in on the fun too.

It’s not like some of you won’t have heard of this before. It won a bunch of prizes when it first came out, including the 2003 Man Booker Prize. If you were around in 2003, you’ll have already heard fawning praise for this.

But what you’ll have never heard is the GBR take on it. So here it is.

Unsurprisingly, I loved it. It was hyped up and I expected a lot from the first page to the last, and it delivered with every single word. OK, maybe not every single word, that’s probably going a bit overboard, but this was good from beginning to end.

Which is tough to do. We all know that film you go see after all your friends tell you it’s brilliant. You walk into the theatre pumped up, expectations at the top of the ladder, and you’re in a situation when pretty much nothing could possibly live up to the promise. Expect genius and you’ll probably be disappointed. Walk in with zero build up, and you’re more likely to be impressed. The film has a fairer chance. But occasionally, something is good enough to live with the sky-high billing. Embrace it. And Vernon God Little is one of those things.

The big reason (for me, anyway) is its relentless quality. DBC Pierre just doesn’t let up. Every single sentence drips with quality. He does all the difficult things pretty effortlessly – keeps a consistent voice, explores the premise carefully, paces the plot. He does all that, but that’s not what impresses me. What impresses me (as it did in Lights out in Wonderland) is his language. He does all those difficult things, spins all those plates, and he does it whilst writing with so much colour and wit and rhythm. The phrasing is just damn perfect. Intelligent. Funny. Tight. All of those things at the same time.

I smiled as I read it. Sat there in silence with a goofy grin on my face, just basking in it. Wallowing. Butterflies going nuts in my belly, scattered all over the place by the craft of Pierre.

Yeah, I enjoyed this. A bunch.

10 GBR.

Bang! Number three of the year. And this deserves it. It changed everything for me.

We’re in Sept, and there’s been three 2012 maximums, so I figure they’re still rare enough to be big news in the GBR universe. If you need reminding on what a 10 GBR score means, click away here.

Or go straight to Amazon, buy this book, along with Lights out in Wonderland, and thank me later.

Slaughterhouse 5 - skinning cats

Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut (1970: Jonathan Cape). An anti-war novel of the original anti-war age. Kurt Vonnegut introduces us to an American who flits forward and backward in time. We see him alternately as a middle aged optometrist, a captive in an alien zoo, touring the country as a revolutionary speaker, and watching Dresden burn in WWII.

There’s more than one way to be skin a cat. Odd phrase. I’d like to know who came up with it, and then make sure I don’t ever get too close to them. But it’s true, all the same.

Last week, I went on about DBC Pierre’s language. About its decadence and its beauty.

Kurt Vonnegut achieves beauty in a different way. Not for him the flurries of luxurious inspiration. Instead, his writing is stripped back to the bare bones. Clipped, economical sentences. Simple phrasing. Worlds and lives laid out in the bare minimum of space.

It’s difficult to do. It shows a great deal of restraint and ingenuity. High levels of concentration and a commitment to perfecting every sentence. But the result is worth it. The result is a book with a relentless rhythm.

For all the simplicity of the language, the plot provides a direct contrast. It’s intricate and fantastic. The protagonist is a time travelling optometrist who suffers alien abduction and learns a radical new way of experiencing life. He also trips through World War II in an increasingly absurd outfit.

And then he watches Dresden burn, and picks through the aftermath.

The whole book is set up to make the horror of Dresden scream out. It’s not mired in pathos. It’s couched in ridiculousness. More comedy than sentiment. The point is clear – it’s all a bit pointless. All the death and suffering and ruined lives – none of it serves a higher purpose. None of it is necessary. None of it has any wider meaning.

It’s an original way of making a well worn point. And you can see why it had so much impact when it was written. It doesn’t whine. It simply takes the bloodshed and surrounds it with an absurdity that leaches into every corner of the book.

It’s good. It’s a classic and it deserves to be.

But (crucial question) did I enjoy it?

Yes, but not outrageously. It’s clever, and it’s original, and it’s compelling in places. It still has relevance. But I didn’t fall off my seat when reading it. I wasn’t blown away like I was with DBC Pierre last week. All the power of the simple language, all the imagination; it raised my eyebrows and it made me think. But it didn’t make me howl.

I was impressed. But my socks remained firmly un-knocked off.

7 GBR

Good solid score. If you haven’t read this, you should. It’s a short read, and a worthwhile one.

Next week, a modern western. More new territory.

Lights out in Wonderland - take a deep breath

Lights out in Wonderland (Faber and Faber: 2010) Despairing at the state of modern civilisation, a man decides to kill himself. And then realises he doesn’t need to do it straight away. Cue a mission stretching from London to Tokyo to Berlin (but mainly Berlin) in which he hunts down the most spectacular good-bye he can construct.

“Large or small is the only choice in human life, my friend.” That’s a helluva quote. I probably should ask permission from someone before I reproduce quotes, but this book is so packed full of them that I couldn’t help myself.

“But this night like a moonlit churchyard – this is my night.” There’s another.

I could go on. There are tons of points in this book where I just stopped and breathed. It might be just my own perversion, it may be that not everyone shares it, but the language and the phrasing in this book made me gasp.

It’s beautiful. It really is, and it runs like a seam of gold through every page from beginning to end. It hits high notes again and again and again. It's relentless. Reminded me of when I first fell in love with Glen Duncan. But more.

Which is apt for this book. Rich language for a rich plot.

It’s a story built around decadence. Around a man hunting down a high luxury ending to his life, a spectacular gesture to the world. It thoroughly explores the limbo between decision and action. It picks apart the nature of capitalism (not in a way I fully agree with, but methodically all the same). It brings in fickle Gods and different flavours of bliss. All using the kind of language that makes me so jealous I could cry. I didn’t. But I could.

We can all make a gorgeous sentence. A single pretty idea expressed perfectly. A few can even make whole paragraphs. But to stretch out a whole book with this sort of language, working in the confines of a well structured and compelling story – that’s bloody impressive.

I read up a little on DBC Pierre. It’s not his real name. His real name is Peter Warren Finlay. He’s Australian, but he’s lived around the world, and he’s had a colourful life. Wikipedia describes him as part of the original jetset. It’s a background that gives portions of Lights out in Wonderland a vaguely self-portrait feel. In more recent times, he’s cleaned up a little, and wrote his first book on the floor of a studio flat in Balham, which is about a mile from where I’m sat now.

Still, a chat about Balham aside, I’m sure we’d have absolutely nothing in common if we met. I like my local pub. Getting home in time to watch a Law & Order before bed on a Tuesday night. Spending my weekends in the sorts of places where it’s OK to wear jeans. I’d probably find DBC Pierre pretentious, and DBC Pierre would probably find me a bore.

Which biographical details lead to me to liking this book all the more. It’s compelling escapism. An insight into other worlds. An introduction to rare people.

And all done with that language. That beautiful language.

You know what’s coming.

10 GBR

The fourth GBR maximum of all time. Second of 2012. Puts this guy in the company of Wodehouse, Waugh, and Gaiman. There’s a dinner party, right there.

Apparently GQ called DBC Pierre’s first novel “one of the 100 best things in the world” in 2003. 100 best things. That’s a wide category, and some accolade for a new book. The fact I have about five other books lined up on my shelf before I can get around to it makes me sad.

Next week, a first crack at Kurt Vonnegut.