Unforgettable

Although I read a fair bit, I’m the worst person to ask for off the cuff recommendations. I might remember the author’s first name or last but rarely both and will have only a vague idea of the title ‘ something to do with the sea or the ocean. Or maybe not. But water’s definitely in it. At least I think it is.’ In this respect, my blogs have proved self-serving, forcing me to revisit books and offer some commentary on them. So when I do involuntarily remember an individual book, a long time after it’s been read, that’s probably because there was something strikingly original about it. I’ll never forget, many years ago now, the physical jolt that the reveal of The White Hotel by D.M. Thomas gave me. The same thing happened on reaching the denouement of Lionel Shriver’s 2003 novel We Need to Talk About Kevin. With the latter, as with the announcement of George’s Clooney’s engagement, I even remember where I was and what I was doing: Portugal. The poolside. Eating a panini. ( Obviously a highly alliterative moment) Similarly, I recollect how Melvin Burgess’s YA novel Junk with its descriptions of teenage runaways falling into heroin addiction and prostitution stopped me in my tracks when it forced me to completely re-think what was appropriate material for this age group. Yet memorable books don’t have to employ shock tactics. I’ve mentioned before Katherine Rundell’s  Rooftoppers – lyrical, poignant and whimsical – then there’s the quiet but powerful mundanity of Stoner by John Williams, the political allegory of Jim Crace’s Harvest and so on…

In my darkest moments ( creatively, you understand ) I worry that basically my own writing is competent rather than inspired and that I’ll never produce anything that even comes near to being memorable. This feeling is inevitably exacerbated whenever I finish a novel like one of those listed above. It’s not just that I think they’re ‘good’. These books have a boldness of vision which makes me feel, rightly or wrongly, that the writers didn’t give a shit about what anyone else thought of their work or what was selling at that time. Of course I won’t know until well into the future whether Kevin MacNeil’s ‘The Brilliant and Forever’ will fall into this category but I reckon it might well do. The novel’s title is the name of a prestigious literary competition held on a Scottish island and a fair amount of the narrative comprises the short stories entered by the competitors: arguably a bit of a cop-out for a novel. In addition, one of the protagonists is Archie, a talking alpaca. And if that’s not enough, near the end there’s a twist of humongous proportions which takes the novel to a different level.

A friend’s funeral recently included amongst numerous other wonderful features, The Grim Reaper on a motorbike, a vicar on roller skates ( not a real one – there was not a trace of religion at the event ) and the floral tribute spelling ‘DAD’ with an E inserted before the A. Maybe a few eyebrows were raised but so were many smiles and it’s an occasion that will never be forgotten by those present. I’m not really sure what the link is between memorable novels and funerals: perhaps it’s simply that my friend shared that ‘not giving a shit’ attitude that I reckon makes for unforgettable people as well as books.