Bel Canto

When I read Servants of the Map by Andrea Barrett, I told you that there were some authors I knew I would like, long before I actually read their works.  Well, Ann Patchett is another one.  I own almost all of her books, but this is the first I've read.  I think I waited so long because I knew the story would be an emotional rollercoaster from the description on the back.  The set up sounds completely fabricated- an evening party full of international elites is taken hostage, and the ordeal draws out over four months, while the hostages and terrorists find themselves forging relationships they never thought they would or could.  But what floored me is that the set up is based on a true story, and not as loosely as one might assume.  An actual terrorist attack in Lima, Peru, in 1996 very closely mirrors the structure, or frame, of Bel Canto.  This is important, in a book that is often criticized for being over the top in relation to reality.

I do see what the critics mean.  I think the book would have been more meaningful, in a way, if the younger terrorists hadn't turned out to be savants limited only by their lack of education.  I also wonder if the degree of the miraculous talents weren't skewed by the hostages' closeness to the terrorists.  Was Cesar really capable of becoming a world class opera singer, or did Roxane just really, really, really want him to have that capability and project it on to him?  Was Carmen really that intelligent, or did love color Gen's assessments?  We don't know.  But Patchett's style is such that I think she would have told us, if that were true.  So, there are issues.  

I also think that every book has flaws, flaws that might be tiny or might be gigantic.  The trick, or the magic, comes when it manages to make you love it anyway.  Which I do, with Bel Canto.   In a weird way, reading this book reminded me of The Secret History by Donna Tartt.  Now there's a book with legions of fans where the magic did not work for me.  All I could see were the flaws.  

There are so many beautiful moments in Bel Canto, and a focus on the good in human nature.  That's actually rarer than you would think, in the literary world.  Patchett is wordy, but her sentences flow like water and still manage to come across as concise.  She includes so much subtle humor, playing up the irony of hostages enjoying their time with their captors.  She makes a ton of sharp observations, and you learn so much by seeing how each of the main characters view the world and the others.

Final call:


In the very early stages of the book, you learn that the terrorists do not survive, and you think, "Good."  By the end, you think, "What a shame."  And that's nothing short of amazing.

Irish Details - Dublin Part 1

This morning we woke up in Portstewart, on the Northern Irish coast, knowing we needed to be in Dublin by midafternoon, and also knowing we needed to do it using multiple forms of public transportation.

And you know what?  It really wasn't difficult!  We caught a local bus a few blocks from our B&B, which took us to the Coleraine Train Station.

From here, we were able to reach the bus and train center in Belfast, and from Belfast, we could get the same coach bus line that brought us up to Belfast from the Dublin airport at the beginning of the adventure.  About five hours later, we were standing in downtown Dublin, crossing our fingers and hoping our connection with our lodging would show up to meet us.

See, instead of booking a hotel, we used VRBO.com to find a small apartment in a great location, for an extremely reasonable price.  The building we stayed in is the one just to the left of the street light in the picture above.  It was such a nice base - laundry, refrigerator, cooktop - and in a wonderful location.

The little alleyway we were off of is called Cow's Lane, which also housed a great restaurant and a very nice local bookstore.  I was in heaven  :)

For our first Dublin meal, Justin requested something from the Asian spectrum.  We lucked into this little Malaysian restaurant, located right on the river.  It was some of the most incredible food of any type we had all trip.  I had some sort of spicy, peanutty, shrimpy stuff.

A few more scenes from that first day:

The Ha'penny Bridge, a pedestrian way over the River Liffey.

The bookstore in the alley.  It was called The Gutter in homage to Oscare Wilde, whose famous saying is hanging in the window.

And this is Trinity Cathedral, one of the city's landmark buildings.  It was about one block up the street from us, and one evening, its bell tower played for around an hour.  It was quite lovely.

Irish Details - the Fifth Day

This was our last scheduled day of walking, but we decided to go off-course a little bit by visiting Bushmills Distillery, and then making up the time by catching a ride up to Dunluce Castle with our B&B hostess.

Bushmills claims to be the oldest distillery in Ireland, at least for one that's been in continuous production.  Their original license was issued in something like 1604!  In any case, the grounds were lovely, and the products tasty.

Some British pound notes are printed by the Bank of Ireland.  These notes have the Bushmills building on the reverse side.

At the end of the tour, you're welcome to a complimentary tasting of whiskey.  If I remember correctly, the one on the left is a Reserve that you can only get there, at the distillery.  I like bourbon, so I suspected I'd like this stuff, and I was right, I do!

Next, we were off to Dunluce Castle.  Unlike Dunseverick, this one is mostly there.  Dunluce was the seat of the O'Donnells.  They abandoned the castle sometime in the 1600s, when part of the kitchens fell into the sea, taking people with it.  

Above is the view from the courtyard and stables, looking down to the main residential portions of the castle.  The next photo shows the interior of the castle itself.

You can see how precariously a great deal of the castle is perched:

As we were wrapping up our time here, it started to rain.  Not just drizzle, but actual strong rain with a nice cold breeze to whip it around.  We contemplated walking the 9 miles to our B&B for the night, or the 3 miles to the nearest town to catch a bus, but neither seemed like a great idea (at this point, Justin was starting to feel pretty rough from a stomach bug, and I had a deep blister the size of Kansas on my foot).  Staff at the castle advised us that buses do come right by the castle's gates, but the next one wouldn't be there for another two hours.

We could have been in an uncomfortable position, but fortunately for us, an adorable little tea shop sits right outside the front gates of the castle.  We had some wonderful soups and frou frou drinks while we waited for the bus.

These were chai lattes, and very delicious on a cold day.  The cottage also had a peat fire, which was just the perfect thing.

After this, we were able to catch the bus with little fuss and make it out to Portstewart for our last night in Northern Ireland.  The weather was a little better, with sun breaking through betwixt and between rain showers.

This was the view from the little fast food restaurant we found dinner in, on Portstewart Strand.  This is looking westward, toward Mussenden Temple.  A nice, relaxing way to end a long day.  So, it turns out we didn't walk much at all on our last day of hill walking, but that was okay.  Other walkers doing the same itinerary were staying at our B&B and told us it was a miserable slog, so we're glad we skipped it!

Irish Details - the Fourth Day

This day, we finally hiked along a waymarked trail, the Ulster Way.  This was a 10-mile day, and I was doing it on pretty beat-up feet.  But we made it, and in good time!

This walk started out at Ballintoy village and ended at the Giant's Causeway.  There were a few neat stops along the way, including St. Gobbans, which is thought to be the smallest church in Ireland.  Although it sounds like no one's ever checked to be sure!

Yep, it's small!  Right after this, the trail passed around a headland through a hole in the rock face.  This was a really neat stretch of trail, although a little crazy, too.  Back before the church, it looks like a high tide would have made the way impassable.

After this, we walked for quite a way through sheep fields.  It amazed me then and it still amazes me now to think of sheep grazing a few yards away from the ocean.  In fact, I'm guessing they're responsible for these complex spiral paths ...

Soon, we came upon what little is left of Dunseverick Castle.  I believe this isn't even part of the castle proper, but more of an outbuilding or a kitchen.  The castle itself has fallen into the sea, an unfortunate side effect of building that close to the shore.

Soon after Dunseverick, we seemed to walk up and up, around headland after headland, each one a little higher than the last.  Eventually we passed an area called Half Moon Bay, if I recall correctly.

We started somewhere out there in the middle distance, along the flat part of the coast, so you can see how far we've come.  (We were barely half way at this point!)

After a few more miles of lonely rugged coastline, we began to meet more and more people.  This is how we knew we were getting close to the Giant's Causeway.

This is one of the most well-known attractions in Ireland, an area of the coast with hexagonal granite columns stretching out into the sea, in legend the home of the giant Finn MacCool.

I have to say, it's lovely.  But, it was a little underwhelming after three days of exploring just as rugged and just as lovely coastlines.

  

I did enjoy the rock formation known as the Camel - it's fairly realistic, as far as these kinds of things go!

We ended the day with a really nice tea in our room at the B&B, quite a good restorative.

The pictures were never particularly successful, but this B&B had plenty of bird feeders in their backyard and our room was positioned to see them.  I had a great time watching, and even caught a few life birds that I saw nowhere else on this trip, including the European Goldfinch, and a Common Redpoll.  I'll try to do a separate post for those!

Two Booker Prize Winners: Hotel du Lac and The Bone People

I'm so far behind in reviewing books that you're getting a two-fer.  These books both won the Booker Prize, and they both left me a little cold.  So why not pair them here.

First up, Hotel du Lac by Anita Brookner.  This was a very late addition to my 2015 Challenge List, one I never told you about.

This is a slim little volume, certainly eligible for my "Perfect Little Books" shelf.  But I don't think it's going to get there, not quite.  This is a Booker Prize winner, so my opinion of it takes me a little by surprise, although from what I read, many thought it was not the strongest book in the year it won.

Don't get me wrong, I more or less enjoyed reading it.  But I do feel a failure to connect with much of the book's intellectual heft.  I think, maybe even hope, that it's because I've grown up in a different era from Edith, the main character.

This book is very much about the feminine world, i.e., the world as inhabited by females.  I don't think you can accuse Anita Brookner of feminism, though.  She spends a lot of time looking at women with personality problems who happily or unhappily fill the roles society has provided for them.  Except, maybe Edith, who by the end of the book, has bucked society's expectations of her not once, but twice.  (Although I don't know that returning to England to continue in her mistress role is really that avant garde.  Women have been mistresses for millenia.  You could argue it's a traditional role.)

Edith spends an increasing amount of time in the book conversing with Mr. Neville.  It's a good chunk of these talks, and Edith's observations on other characters, that sometimes remain opaque for me.  Edith's saying words, and Neville responds with more words, and I understand them all individually, but taken together I'm not always sure what they are getting at.  This is just intermittent, though.

Final call:


Really, this is a three and a half.  The writing is artful, but didn't really speak to me.  I wouldn't put it high on your list.

And now, for The Bone People by Keri Hulme.

This is a really cool book in a lot of ways, with so much potential. Sure the narrator is an author stand-in, and she has all these super-duper-but-unrealistic-to-find-in-one-person talents. But I really like the concept of the three main characters all needing something from each other to heal, and seeing how Kerewin builds bridges despite being hurt and volatile herself. I like the weird artsy stuff that blends its way into the narrative. I like the strange little inventions that Kerewin and Simon create. There's a lot of humor in the book, although a lot of it's grim or sarcastic.

I do not appreciate at all how the abuse was handled. I read the book as each of the three - Kerewin, Joe, and Simon - having to face crisis and come through transformation in order to heal emotionally. But Simon really got the short end of that stick. Kerewin, and Joe especially, take their failings out on Simon. Then they both go through their own near-death experiences and are "saved" by some mystical processes that aren't really clear. They come out the other side, somehow, wiser and more in tune with their Maori heritage. (Joe's story requires some extremely wild leaps of imagination, too.) So these two are supposed to be redeemed, I guess, by all this.

Now take Simon. He's 6-7 years old, he's a mental mess for good reason, and he's often drunk or drugged out of his mind in the story. Joe abuses him. At first you think it's "just" a whack here and there. Later, you realize it's serious and frequent beatings. Then, Joe very nearly kills him and does cause permanent damage to Simon's hearing and facial structure. Jeeeeesus. I don't think there's a character under any sun in any universe that can come back from that, for me. Certainly not by flinging himself off of a cliff, experiencing some strange interactions with an old guy, and then inheriting the old guy's secret Maori god-thing while being miraculously healed himself.

Of course, at the end, Simon still loves Joe, and Kerewin, who is indirectly responsible for the final savage beating. Warped love is all Simon knows and he isn't the best judge of what's good or right in the world.  What 6 year old is??? I think that's what angers me - that Simon bears it all in this story. No mystical healing potions for him, he's left with his horrible scars and lost hearing and a devoted love for those who did the damage. While the very culpable adults are absolutely healthy and just feel guilty every once in a while when they notice Simon's face. The author doesn't seem to see him as a real boy at the end, just this construct to help Joe and Kerewin finally get in touch with each other and their inner Maori. Which I guess is fine, but don't think the average reader will appreciate it, given the sensitivity of the topic.

Final call:


Another Booker Prize winner that comes close, but just sorta misses the boat at the end.

Irish Details - the Third Day, Part 2

Ok, we left off with the donkey braying us into Carrick-a-rede.  This is an attraction centered around a rope bridge that allowed salmon fishermen to reach a small island from the mainland.  Now it's tourists who cross the bridge.

Here's Justin, taking his chances:

I thought I might get a little weirded out by the crossing 80 feet above the sea, but it really wasn't unnerving.  On the island, I was pleased to see that several nesting seabirds were close enough for wonderful photographs.

This is a Northern Fulmar.  Fulmars and some other birds, like albatrosses, are known as "tubenoses" - look ,you can see the unique structure just above the bill on this bird.

And this the closest I got to a Razorbill. Razorbills are alcids, similar to Puffins.  Such interesting, elegant lines they have.  From this vantage point you could also see Larrybane, a cliffy bay that was apparently used as a set piece in HBO's very popular Game of Thrones series.

  

With this, we were off to Ballintoy to find dinner and some time off of our feet.

Ahhh, this'll do the trick!  Justin ordered the biggest burger in Ballintoy, if not the world, and I had a really good chicken curry.  We also learned that tobacco onions are really frizzled onions.

After this we caught a ride to Bushmills, where we crashed out, then woke to start what became our second-most grueling day of hiking!

Irish Details - the Third Day, Part 1

We were really looking forward to the third day, when we made the transition from Ballycastle to Bushmills.  Only (!) eight miles of hiking to get there.

What I did not realize was that the hike started out with 2-3 miles of uphill walking.  It was a relatively gentle slope, but still.  I needed a break!

This day was primarily walking on back country roads, and it wasn't long before we ran into a large group of Rooks.  These are large-ish black birds that have a very medieval look to them, to my eye.  Like they're totally prepared to go after your eyeballs if you sit still too long :)

Right about this time it also hit me that perhaps these birds are the source of the word "rookery," as we saw the birds were grouping around their nests.

Ireland is also the land of extensive and well-kept hedges.  We followed this road, until we reached a farmstead, turned in, and walked out along a fence line into a patch of woods known as Clare Wood.  Something we noticed throughout our time in Ireland is that land is held differently, at least in that many open fields could be accessed by walkers with no problem, despite it being technically private land.

Clare Wood had an entirely different feel than any other habitat we were in this trip.  Deeply quiet, green above and below, just very Druidy feeling, lol.  This was obviously a pine plantation, though, as the trees were in rows.  We heard an interesting bird song as we entered.  At first I thought it was some kind of owl, but eventually realized it was a Eurasian Collared-Dove singing.  We also heard a Cuckoo.  American cuckoos have really wild songs, but this one sounded like the namesake clock.  Finally, it all makes sense :)

This shot shows the view over the countryside, across the Moyle Sea, and to the western end of Rathlin Island - where we were Puffin gazing just yesterday!

Some sights along the way down to Carrick-a-rede Rope Bridge:

An interesting butterfly that remains unidentified.  (Sorry, I only had the energy to figure out birds!)

A bin of what I assume are seed potatoes, waiting to be planted in the nearby field.

And a guard donkey, busily letting everyone know we're close by.  What was our destination today, you wonder?  We were heading to Carrick-a-rede Rope Bridge, and then to the village of Ballintoy for dinner and to wait for our ride to Bushmills.  I think I'll save that for the next post, though!