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A review by thomasgoddard
Lanark: A Life in Four Books by Alasdair Gray
4.0
I know, I know. I said I wouldn't do it this year, give half stars, but this one really stumped me.
He weaves in his political feelings about bodies governing, from far and on high, the lives of the people they are meant to be helping. (He wanted an independent Scotland)
He uses his own upbringing to give a heavy authentic weight to the character. (Similar upbringing to my own)
There’s elements of fantasy and oppressive impoverished reality. (A strong juxtaposition)
This isn’t a book you read once. It is a book to read again and again. It's a book that I wish I had written. Same as Gormenghast. Same as The White Hotel. Same as a lot of these similarly eccentric novels that don’t seem to see the light of commissioning editor’s desk lamps these days. (I can only think that Susanna Clarke is a wild exception)
I think there’s this element of decadence to the older novels that is lacking these days. Even Clarke is a sort of cleansed reduction of the heady and vital work that used to get shipped to bookshops. Smaller publishers are doing great work, but the last ten years has been a bit of a lacklustre decade for vibrant fiction. At least, for my tastes... It's the same in cinema too. Television has gotten better, but the rest has really taken a nose dive.
Maybe I’m just getting old.
Or maybe I just miss the books that were a little filthy and crude and full of themselves. Books with characters you can dislike.
I’m in a funny mood. Wild hyperbole abounds. There are, of course, a wealth of great works being produced. I just wish that more of them were a bit more smutty and raw. Leave in the blood. Be unpleasant! Any suggestions for truly contemporary work that has the same vitality as this one, please send me a note. Many thanks.
Lanark is a trip into strange worlds. A look at a childhood that still has a familiar flavour enough to remind me of my own, despite being a few decades out. It is a wonderful book, strangely plotted out to entice and mystify.
Rating: (4.5)
He weaves in his political feelings about bodies governing, from far and on high, the lives of the people they are meant to be helping. (He wanted an independent Scotland)
He uses his own upbringing to give a heavy authentic weight to the character. (Similar upbringing to my own)
There’s elements of fantasy and oppressive impoverished reality. (A strong juxtaposition)
This isn’t a book you read once. It is a book to read again and again. It's a book that I wish I had written. Same as Gormenghast. Same as The White Hotel. Same as a lot of these similarly eccentric novels that don’t seem to see the light of commissioning editor’s desk lamps these days. (I can only think that Susanna Clarke is a wild exception)
I think there’s this element of decadence to the older novels that is lacking these days. Even Clarke is a sort of cleansed reduction of the heady and vital work that used to get shipped to bookshops. Smaller publishers are doing great work, but the last ten years has been a bit of a lacklustre decade for vibrant fiction. At least, for my tastes... It's the same in cinema too. Television has gotten better, but the rest has really taken a nose dive.
Maybe I’m just getting old.
Or maybe I just miss the books that were a little filthy and crude and full of themselves. Books with characters you can dislike.
I’m in a funny mood. Wild hyperbole abounds. There are, of course, a wealth of great works being produced. I just wish that more of them were a bit more smutty and raw. Leave in the blood. Be unpleasant! Any suggestions for truly contemporary work that has the same vitality as this one, please send me a note. Many thanks.
Lanark is a trip into strange worlds. A look at a childhood that still has a familiar flavour enough to remind me of my own, despite being a few decades out. It is a wonderful book, strangely plotted out to entice and mystify.
Rating: (4.5)