Bibliography
The Circling Song - Nawal El Saadawi
This is the second El Saadawi I’ve read recently, and I have to say it was a difficult read. It’s the only novel she’s written in this style, and while I can see how that style has garnered her fans, I find it more difficult to read. This arises at least in part from El Saadawi’s desire to explore the circle of repetitive violence and abuse that is inflicted on Egypt’s women by Egypt’s men, through the persons of Hamido and Hamida, twin siblings who transform from being themselves to being each other and back again, through an associative and surrealist sequence which ultimately brings the author back to the place where she began to write (which is the point, as the title indicates).
There seems to be a plot, at least initially, formed by Hamida falling pregnant after suffering rape at the hands of an unidentified male in her village; her mother tries to get her away from the village on the train; her father sends Hamido after her with a knife, so that blood may wipe out shame. Hamido’s pursuit of Hamida, then, would seem to be the plot, but this is when the surrealist part of the narrative comes in and the reader enters a more allusive, symbolic world rather than one that follows any strict narrative logic.
This kind of writing produces powerful images, made even more powerful by their repetition in different contexts; I was particularly touched by the image of a weeping woman turned into a statue and always having been a statue, which reoccurs a couple of times. But it’s hard work if you aren’t comfortable reading without a narrative thread, and it’s brutal and grinding to read, because it attempts to sum up the lot of Egypt’s women through repetition, repetition, repetition. If you can bring yourself to read it, do - but other El Saadawi is more approachable if you’re not familiar with her work.
The Tough Guide to Fantasyland - Diana Wynne Jones
This is a Diana Wynne Jones classic (first, I think, brought to my attention by owlfish, who quoted its definition of Stew approvingly), and I’ve been picking away at it, a couple of chapters at a time, over the last few months. It’s essentially a piss-take of all the conventions of the Fantasyland novel, and a bit of a dig at the people who write them - highlighting, for instance, the way that nobody ever gets serious pneumonia, and any fevers are magically cured by a day’s rest and some herbs. Oh, and the fact that landlords will almost inevitably be plump and hearty. Possibly genial. It’s an affectionate but sharp satire of the fantasy genre as a whole, written very much by someone who loves the possibilities but has read enough bad fantasy to want to clip some writers and editors around the ear. For that reason alone, every aspiring fantasy author should probably read this and make sure they ain’t doing it wrong. I suspect I haven’t read quite enough fantasy to appreciate all of the tropes and trends that get affectionately mocked in the Tough Guide, but I’ve read enough to enjoy the overall outline, and I expect most of you have too. It’s a fun, light read and definitely good fun if you’ve not read it before.
This is the second El Saadawi I’ve read recently, and I have to say it was a difficult read. It’s the only novel she’s written in this style, and while I can see how that style has garnered her fans, I find it more difficult to read. This arises at least in part from El Saadawi’s desire to explore the circle of repetitive violence and abuse that is inflicted on Egypt’s women by Egypt’s men, through the persons of Hamido and Hamida, twin siblings who transform from being themselves to being each other and back again, through an associative and surrealist sequence which ultimately brings the author back to the place where she began to write (which is the point, as the title indicates).
There seems to be a plot, at least initially, formed by Hamida falling pregnant after suffering rape at the hands of an unidentified male in her village; her mother tries to get her away from the village on the train; her father sends Hamido after her with a knife, so that blood may wipe out shame. Hamido’s pursuit of Hamida, then, would seem to be the plot, but this is when the surrealist part of the narrative comes in and the reader enters a more allusive, symbolic world rather than one that follows any strict narrative logic.
This kind of writing produces powerful images, made even more powerful by their repetition in different contexts; I was particularly touched by the image of a weeping woman turned into a statue and always having been a statue, which reoccurs a couple of times. But it’s hard work if you aren’t comfortable reading without a narrative thread, and it’s brutal and grinding to read, because it attempts to sum up the lot of Egypt’s women through repetition, repetition, repetition. If you can bring yourself to read it, do - but other El Saadawi is more approachable if you’re not familiar with her work.
The Tough Guide to Fantasyland - Diana Wynne Jones
This is a Diana Wynne Jones classic (first, I think, brought to my attention by owlfish, who quoted its definition of Stew approvingly), and I’ve been picking away at it, a couple of chapters at a time, over the last few months. It’s essentially a piss-take of all the conventions of the Fantasyland novel, and a bit of a dig at the people who write them - highlighting, for instance, the way that nobody ever gets serious pneumonia, and any fevers are magically cured by a day’s rest and some herbs. Oh, and the fact that landlords will almost inevitably be plump and hearty. Possibly genial. It’s an affectionate but sharp satire of the fantasy genre as a whole, written very much by someone who loves the possibilities but has read enough bad fantasy to want to clip some writers and editors around the ear. For that reason alone, every aspiring fantasy author should probably read this and make sure they ain’t doing it wrong. I suspect I haven’t read quite enough fantasy to appreciate all of the tropes and trends that get affectionately mocked in the Tough Guide, but I’ve read enough to enjoy the overall outline, and I expect most of you have too. It’s a fun, light read and definitely good fun if you’ve not read it before.