De fire og han som gjør galt verre: begynnelsen – Hans Frederik Follestad

De fire og han som gjør galt verre: begynnelsen av Hans Frederik Follestad var en fryktelig irriterende bok. Det som kanskje er mest irriterende er at den var akkurat engasjerende nok til at jeg tror jeg blir nødt til å lese resten av trilogien.

Og hva var det så som gjorde den så irriterende? Jo, for eksempel: Navn som høres ut som de stammer fra en vits jeg husker jeg synes var fryktelig morsom på barneskolen, den med «Hva heter den kinesiske kulturministeren?» «Syng Pen Sang» «Hva heter den kinesiske forsvarsministeren?» «Treng Mer Peng» osv. Våre helter (kremt, kremt) heter nemlig Bambo Fohrtwo, Hutte Meg Tu, Pepper Bihf og Salt Efhan, og han som gjør galt verre heter Jesper Schtadig. Som sagt. Morsomt på barneskolen, ikke fullt så underholdende nå.

Også irriterende, sitat fra bokens egenomtale:

Romanen byr på spenning og masse humor, og den er enestående i sitt slag av to årsaker: For det første er denne fantasy-romanens handling lagt til nåtid, for det andre er bokens helter svært utradisjonelle.

Den kan vel neppe Follestad lastes for, men personen som skrev det har lest fint lite Fantasy. Nåtid? Been there, done that. Helter som er svært motvillige, slett ikke spesiellt heltemodige eller beundringsverdige på det jevne og kastes inn i en verden de ikke har kontroll over og ikke helt forstår? Høres det vagt kjent ut for noen andre enn meg?

Men kanskje mest irriterende var to av romanens hoved-bi-personer, om man kan si det på den måten, den tyske Hellheimer som har latterlig mye penger og den russiske eks-militære major Aleksej. Begge snakker med aksent av verste ‘Allo, ‘allo natur. Tyskeren er en ting, han ble hovedsakelig bare litt slitsom å lese etterhvert – delvis fordi jeg ikke egentlig kan noe særlig tysk og derfor måtte konsentrere meg om å forstå noe særlig av det han sa. Russerens aksent, derimot, består for det meste av at han erstatter gramatiske endinger på norsk med «os» i annehvert ord og slenger på en «os» her og der hvor forfatteren ellers finner det for godt (ja, han sier faktisk «Jaos!» i stedet for ja ved minst ett tilfelle). Her er et lite eksempel på en rimelig typisk ordveksling dem to i mellom:

«Ah, men ich habe en til, Liebling, die grosse Überraschung av dem alle. Ich tror du kommer til å like den spesiellt godt, Line. (…) Men tilbake til zu Alfa 1 og 2, die sind meine private Soldaten, og uten å skryte; viel besser enn majorens menn. Ja, ich vil så langt gehen som å kalle dem eine vore den besten Soldaten in der Welt.»
«Hva?» utbrøt major Aleksej, og snudde seg bak mot Hellheimer med en oppgitt mine. (…) «Mine guttos ekstremt bra soldatos. Brododnja! Kallos minos guttos andre klassos soldatos!»

Og dette fortsetter altså side opp og side ned. Sukk og stønn.

Infantilt? Jepp.

Til pass for meg når jeg leser bøker beregnet på barn/ungdom, sier du? Tja, jeg trodde forsåvidt selv at De fire og han som gjør galt verre var en ungdomsbok – jeg fant den da også i ungdomsavdelingen på Trondheim folkebibliotek – de hyllene jeg ville frekventert rundt 13-14-årsalderen. Etter et første kapittel hovedsakelig bestående av vold og seksuelle hentydninger mer eller mindre skjult i underteksten begynte jeg derimot å lure – og bak på boka står det faktisk at hvis man liker Ringenes Herre og Harry Potter så kan dette være en bra bok for «voksne og ungdom over 16 år».

Jadda.

At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig: Travels Through Paraguay – John Gimlette

At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig: Travels Through Paraguay was an interesting read, in that it seems to deal pretty thoroughly with the recent history of Paraguay, a country I knew next to nothing about prior to reading this book. I am somewhat puzzled as to the title, as I never caught the reference, but it’s catchy – if not snappy – and so I suppose that’s reason enough to use it. This is not a travel book in the normal sense. True, John Gimlette travels around Paraguay, but nine tenths of the book is history of some sort. Not a bad thing, necessarily, but not quite what I expected. Still, an interesting read.

Inkheart – Cornelia Funke

Another bookcrossing goodie arrived in my mailbox this week, and caused another pause in the book I’m supposed to be reading. Inkheart by Cornelia Funke is pretty much just what a good book ought to be, it draws you in and keeps you interested enough to make putting it down difficult (towards the end, well nigh impossible). And, of course, it’s an adventure involving books and reading. Could it get any better?

(The book’s bookcrossing journal)

Diplomatic Baggage: The Adventures of a Trailing Spouse

Diplomatic Baggage: The Adventures of a Trailing Spouse by Brigid Keenan was an impulse buy at a newsagent in town, and a pretty lucky one in one respect – Keenan’s husband «AW» gets posted to The Gambia in the late eighties, and since it’s hardly the country that pops up in books most often, it was a bit like an unexpected meeting with an old acquaintance*. The family arrives in the country just about a year after we left it, and the girls go to the same school my brother and I attended. That section alone made the book worth the price for me, but also the rest of the book is interesting and at times laugh-out-loud-funny, and Keenan manages to mix humour and seriousness in a way that makes the pages fly past.

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* For those not in the know, my familiy spent a year in The Gambia in 1986/87.

Waltzing Through Flaws

Waltzing Through Flaws by Paula Sharp popped up in a box of books that I found buried in the closet. I thought we’d unpacked all the books, but obviously not. Anyway, I was exstatic to see it, as I thought I had donated it to charity and have been wracking my brains trying to remember the title in order to get hold of a new copy because I suddenly, a few months back, got the urge to reread it. I had gotten waltzing mixed up with skipping (easily done) and so any search I tried, whether on amazon, abe og google obviously returned pretty nonsensical results.

So, not the world’s greatest novel, but a pretty good read, and characters that obviously stay with you longer than you expect them to. It’s an interesting expostion of addiction (alchohol, religion, adrenaline: pick you own drug) and Paula Sharp manages to tell the story from eight-year old Penny’s point of view in a very convincing way, without sounding unrealistically stilted and without succumbing to cuteness or unneccessary naiveté.

100 shades of White

I’ve reread the Chronicles of Narnia since you last heard from me, but I really don’t have much to say about them other than that (as I said in connection with the movie review) I love them unconditionally.

I then started on 100 Shades of White by Preethi Nair, which I just bought in the Tapir spring sale (at 90% off, a pleasant surprise at the till, as I thought it was 70% off and I got 8 books for 100 kroner instead of 300 and something which I was expecting). 100 Shades of White is engaging and manages to touch a few «serious» themes before ending, I’m glad to say, on a feel-good note. I didn’t like the structure – the novel changes between two first person narrators and makes a few jumps in time – but I’d be hard-pressed to put my finger on what it was that irked me, and it certainly wasn’t irking enough to put me off noting down Nair as someone I’d like to hear more of.

Our Hearts Were Young and Gay

Our Hearts were Young and Gay by Emily Kimbrough and Cornelia Otis Skinner (it’s narrated by Cornelia, but I suppose Emiliy must have helped, as she’s listed as co-author) was a bookcrossing rabck, and a very welcome one. It will be sent on its way, eventually, but just now I think I’ll hold on to it, as I will want to reread it in the not-too-distant future. The two authors set off for a tour of Europe – or at least parts of it – in the 1920s and have the usual hilarious adventures. The book is narrated on a light note, even when the greatest «disasters» strike, and is a delight to read.

(The book’s bookcrossing journal.)

Lost for Words – John Humphrys

There seems to be a bit of a red thread going on here, what with all these language-related books, and you might suspect I have been influenced by working at the department of language and communication studies. Which I have, I’m sure. You can’t just blame my employer, though, as we got John Humphrys’ Lost for Words: The Mangling and Manipulating of the English Language in a three for two sale (or something) while on our honeymoon this summer, and I hadn’t started the job then. You might blame my employer for the fact that I’ve just read the book, though, I suppose.

Anyway, Humphrys’ book is basically a collection of examples, or at least that’s what it feels like, with a little discussion around each one and with some conclusions drawn from the evidence. It’s hard to disagree with the conclusions. It’s also hard not to laugh at times, especially when Humphrys reminds me of why I had to quit reading feminist literary theory. It’s because feminists manage to write this sort of thing in good faith and expect us to take them seriously:

Is E= mc2 a sexed equation? Perhaps it is. Let us make the hypotheses that it is insofar as it priveleges the speed of light over other speeds that are vitally necessary to us. What seems to us the possibly sexed nature of the equation is not directly its uses by nuclear weapons, rather it is having priveleged what goes fastest.

(Luce Irigaray, apparently.*)

I can understand that women feel uncomfortable being termed a «chairman» or a «fireman» or any of the other «male» words that have been and are still current in our language(s). I just think that sometimes, perhaps, the so-called feminists go over the top a bit. And that quote is a keeper**, and even if Humphrys’ book did nothing else, providing me with that would still be worth the time and money.

But it does do more. It’s funny, frequently lol funny, and it’s intelligent. In short, it’s a good read.

A thought: I wonder if I ever split infinitives? Let me know if you spot any, will you?

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* Actually, one thing this book is missing – which is a major drawback – is proper references.

**The more I read it, the more the mind boggles. Especially at these «other speeds that are vitally necessary to us».

Wedding Season (Bryllupsfeber) – Darcy Cosper

In which we follow through on a whim

In what can only be classified as a moment of pure madness, I picked up Darcy Cosper’s Wedding Season in the Norwegian translation – Bryllupsfeber – at the local supermarket. There are several reasons why «madness» is the correct classification. Firstly, I don’t read English books translated into Norwegian (comic books excluded, though I prefer the original there, too). This has to be the first time I’ve contemplated doing so for well over 10 years. Secondly, I no longer read chick-lit. There is no good reason for this, it just doesn’t appeal to me anymore.

However, for a few mad seconds it obviously seemed like a good idea. And having spent the money, I thought I might as well spend the time, and read it in order to get rid of the book again.

It’s pretty much what you’d expect. It had a somewhat surprising ending, though not the «surprise ending» I started fearing half-way through, which cheered me up. I had my moments of trying to translate the Norwegian back to English to figure out what the author could possibly have meant – as expected – but not so many as to make it tedious. I enjoyed the friendly banter of Joy and her circle of friends, I thought Cosper did a pretty good job at capturing that common history/common language thing that people who know each other well develop.

And it reminded me how excessively annoying it can be when people try to push their views on how to best live your life on you. I try to avoid doing so myself, but I’m sure I forget occasionally, and even occasionally is too often.

A Game of Thrones – George R.R. Martin

In which we cheat a bit

I’ve only read about 140 pages of A Game of Thrones, actually, at which point I wasn’t hooked, just mildly interested, which is not entirely complimentary to Martin, but I suspect it’s partly because I really wasn’t in the mood for fantasy just now. I started it despite the fact that I knew it was the wrong sort of book right now, because I got this book in a bookcrossing bookring, and felt that A. I had to give it a try and B. I needed to get it done with sooner rather than later as the point of a bookring is that several people want to read the book. However, I was quite definitely not feeling like continuing past page 140, and so thought I’d better send it on and rather request it back at some point.

However, I then went on the net and discovered that this is the first of a series where the two latest titles are not even published yet. And we all know all my patience (which isn’t a big heap to start with) is currently preoccupied preventing my head exploding because of the wait for the next (and, mercifully, last) Harry Potter novel. So starting a series that I can’t finish immediately is Not a Good Idea. So I think I’ll try to get hold of some of Martin’s independent novels instead and leave A Song of Ice and Fire as «noted» and check back in 20 years or so to see if the series is complete then.

(This copy’s bookcrossing journal)