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The Blue Book
Elizabeth Barber is crossing the Atlantic by liner with her perfectly adequate boyfriend, Derek, who might be planning to propose. In fleeing the UK - temporarily - Elizabeth may also be in flight from her past and the charismatic Arthur, once her partner in what she came to see as a series of crimes. Together they acted as fake mediums, perfecting the arcane skills practised by effective frauds.
Elizabeth finally rejected what once seemed an intoxicating game. Arthur continued his search for the right way to do wrong. He now subsidises free closure for the traumatised and dispossessed by preying on the super-rich. The pair still meet occasionally, for weekends of sexual oblivion, but their affection lacerates as much as it consoles.
She hadn't, though, expected the other man on the boat. As her voyage progresses, Elizabeth's past is revealed, codes slowly form and break as communication deepens. It's time for her to discover who are the true deceivers and who are the truly deceived.
What's more, is the book itself - a fiction which may not always be lying - deceiving the reader? Offering illusions and false trails, magical numbers and redemptive humour, this is a novel about what happens when we are misled and when we are true: an extraordinarily intricate and intimate journey into our minds and hearts undertaken by a writer of great gifts - a maker of wonders.
Elizabeth finally rejected what once seemed an intoxicating game. Arthur continued his search for the right way to do wrong. He now subsidises free closure for the traumatised and dispossessed by preying on the super-rich. The pair still meet occasionally, for weekends of sexual oblivion, but their affection lacerates as much as it consoles.
She hadn't, though, expected the other man on the boat. As her voyage progresses, Elizabeth's past is revealed, codes slowly form and break as communication deepens. It's time for her to discover who are the true deceivers and who are the truly deceived.
What's more, is the book itself - a fiction which may not always be lying - deceiving the reader? Offering illusions and false trails, magical numbers and redemptive humour, this is a novel about what happens when we are misled and when we are true: an extraordinarily intricate and intimate journey into our minds and hearts undertaken by a writer of great gifts - a maker of wonders.
373 pages, Hardcover
First published August 4, 2011
45 people are currently reading
1392 people want to read
About the author
A.L. Kennedy
85 books298 followersAlison Louise Kennedy is a Scottish writer of novels, short stories and non-fiction. She is known for a characteristically dark tone, a blending of realism and fantasy, and for her serious approach to her work. She occasionally contributes columns and reviews to UK and European newspapers including the fictional diary of her pet parrot named Charlie.
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November 17, 2025It is a clever book.
This was the first ever A.L. Kennedy novel that I have read. I had a resistance to her because I was certain that she only wrote novels about the second world war. Similarly I am convinced that Beryl Bainbridge only wrote novels about the sinking of the Titanic. Anyway tbis book sat on the shekf fir a while. Even when I flicked through it and read the odd sentance here and there, to say I felt repulsed would be too strong but I certainly was not attracted. I have not so far been able to put my finger on why, still I never warmed to this book and I felt no affection for it. It is clever though.
The plot; I thought that there was a Roy Lichtenstein painting of a couple kissing, over the woman's heaf there is a thought bubble and you read that she is thinking "Don't you know that I am kissing you goodbye". However a brief search of the internet suggests that I am completely wrong about this. Anyhow that is the plot, except with two men and one woman.
Long ago one of the men and the woman worked together. He is a medium and they had a code to communicate information about the punters, suckers, needy and sorrowful people who made up their client base. This code is referenced, used, and explained during the course of the novel.
When I was a child there was a guy called Paul Daniels who performed magic tricks on TV. Well actually there was often an eleborate set up, always a lot of patter from him, with quite a small card trick at the end. Perhaps part of the pleasure of his act, as perhaps with Sancho Panza's stories or my reviews was that it finally would come to an end. Still I imagine that for mediums it is much like his tricks - a lot depends on the staging. And in his this novel the woman, who is the narrator has decided to stage her goodbye kisses on a cruise from Britain to New York. We don't quite get to see the statue of liberty, but I guess the idea of freedom from her relationships and the past is there. The cruise is a nice symbol - they are all at sea, everything is unmored, they are battered by waves, and so on.
The man takes his medium business seriously, on the one hand there is cold (and warm) reafing of people to pump money out of them; but he is aware of the reality of their psychological wounds and believes that extracting money from such people in the right setting can have a beneficial effect and not just for his bank balance. Naturally this is a modern novel so the great irony is that neither the man nor the woman are able to find reluef for their own pyschological injuries. Like I said, its a clever book, but I feel cold about it and my reading experience. I liked it, but not a lot, to misquote some old dead showman.
This was the first ever A.L. Kennedy novel that I have read. I had a resistance to her because I was certain that she only wrote novels about the second world war. Similarly I am convinced that Beryl Bainbridge only wrote novels about the sinking of the Titanic. Anyway tbis book sat on the shekf fir a while. Even when I flicked through it and read the odd sentance here and there, to say I felt repulsed would be too strong but I certainly was not attracted. I have not so far been able to put my finger on why, still I never warmed to this book and I felt no affection for it. It is clever though.
The plot; I thought that there was a Roy Lichtenstein painting of a couple kissing, over the woman's heaf there is a thought bubble and you read that she is thinking "Don't you know that I am kissing you goodbye". However a brief search of the internet suggests that I am completely wrong about this. Anyhow that is the plot, except with two men and one woman.
Long ago one of the men and the woman worked together. He is a medium and they had a code to communicate information about the punters, suckers, needy and sorrowful people who made up their client base. This code is referenced, used, and explained during the course of the novel.
When I was a child there was a guy called Paul Daniels who performed magic tricks on TV. Well actually there was often an eleborate set up, always a lot of patter from him, with quite a small card trick at the end. Perhaps part of the pleasure of his act, as perhaps with Sancho Panza's stories or my reviews was that it finally would come to an end. Still I imagine that for mediums it is much like his tricks - a lot depends on the staging. And in his this novel the woman, who is the narrator has decided to stage her goodbye kisses on a cruise from Britain to New York. We don't quite get to see the statue of liberty, but I guess the idea of freedom from her relationships and the past is there. The cruise is a nice symbol - they are all at sea, everything is unmored, they are battered by waves, and so on.
The man takes his medium business seriously, on the one hand there is cold (and warm) reafing of people to pump money out of them; but he is aware of the reality of their psychological wounds and believes that extracting money from such people in the right setting can have a beneficial effect and not just for his bank balance. Naturally this is a modern novel so the great irony is that neither the man nor the woman are able to find reluef for their own pyschological injuries. Like I said, its a clever book, but I feel cold about it and my reading experience. I liked it, but not a lot, to misquote some old dead showman.
September 29, 2016
If you've never read A.L. Kennedy before (as I hadn't at the time) then you need to know that she's an extremely clever, post-modern writer - something which had put me off her previous books. But I'm very happy to have been proved wrong as I liked this very much and found it surprisingly moving, not something I usually expect from tricksy, clever-clever books.
The narrative flips between a neutral narrator, a more typical 3rd person narrator from Elizabeth's point of view, and a stream-of-consciousness in Elizabeth's head: the latter is written not in fragmented, unpunctuated Woolf/James Joyce style but as proper sentences, albeit in italics. The reason for this does become clear at the end.
I liked Elizabeth's sharp, sometimes slyly funny voice ("being annoyed is almost indistinguishable from being right-wing... if State Socialism had been more sensible, it wouldn't have generated all those queues" p.10), but thought this was going to be a book which held me at arm's length, cold and detached.
Instead, beneath the tricksiness, the book transforms into something far more intimate, almost desperate and needy. There are points at which the story is unashamedly cruel, but it is also true and tender with, at its heart, one of the most lyrical evocations of love I have ever read.
So this is definitely a book which belied my preconceptions. The title, the tricksy page numbering (I'm not sure this would work on a Kindle), even the beautiful look and feel of the hardcover edition itself, all become crucial to the story that is being told. This isn't an easy, throwaway read - it demands your attention and concentration - but I ended up loving it.
May 10, 2013
Off Balance
“Blue Book” is off kilter. I believe Kennedy meant this purposefully. Most of the action takes place on a cruise ship that’s caught in a storm. One of the main characters is continually sick and throwing up. The storm continues for the entire cruise. Even the passengers who aren’t actively sea sick feel off balance due to the ships perpetual sway.
Please note it’s important to read the blurb about the premise of the book before plunging in or you might feel as at sea as I did. “Blue Book” is about two con artists who’ve made lots of money by being onstage psychics. They’ve developed an elaborate system of tells that they exchange in order to dupe their audience. As the book opens the couple has split up and Beth is onboard with her new lover. Her ex-partner Arthur has followed her in a stalking type of way.
Beth gives in to Arthur’s need to see her and they meet in secret to re-hash what went wrong between them as well as renew their dysfunctional relationship. To increase the sense of a spinning world Kennedy switches between writing in the past and the present and alternately switches between first, second and third person depending on what she’s trying to express. It’s disconcerting but then that’s what she intended. There’s a true shocker of an ending.
I’ve only read one other book by Kennedy, “Day”, and I loved it. “The Blue Book” while intriguing isn’t nearly as good. I love Kennedy’s uniqueness and her willingness to experiment but this didn’t quite work in my opinion.
This review is based on an advanced reading copy received from the publisher.
(Disclaimer added as required by the FTC.)
“Blue Book” is off kilter. I believe Kennedy meant this purposefully. Most of the action takes place on a cruise ship that’s caught in a storm. One of the main characters is continually sick and throwing up. The storm continues for the entire cruise. Even the passengers who aren’t actively sea sick feel off balance due to the ships perpetual sway.
Please note it’s important to read the blurb about the premise of the book before plunging in or you might feel as at sea as I did. “Blue Book” is about two con artists who’ve made lots of money by being onstage psychics. They’ve developed an elaborate system of tells that they exchange in order to dupe their audience. As the book opens the couple has split up and Beth is onboard with her new lover. Her ex-partner Arthur has followed her in a stalking type of way.
Beth gives in to Arthur’s need to see her and they meet in secret to re-hash what went wrong between them as well as renew their dysfunctional relationship. To increase the sense of a spinning world Kennedy switches between writing in the past and the present and alternately switches between first, second and third person depending on what she’s trying to express. It’s disconcerting but then that’s what she intended. There’s a true shocker of an ending.
I’ve only read one other book by Kennedy, “Day”, and I loved it. “The Blue Book” while intriguing isn’t nearly as good. I love Kennedy’s uniqueness and her willingness to experiment but this didn’t quite work in my opinion.
This review is based on an advanced reading copy received from the publisher.
(Disclaimer added as required by the FTC.)
May 4, 2013
After the first chapter, I thought I would like this book. After the first three chapters, I thought I could like this book if I stuck with it. After another two chapters, I thought I could at least tolerate the story to the end. After getting a quarter of the way through, I just couldn't take it anymore. The second-person writing, the hidden identities and relationship, the special number references, etc, are surely intended to make this story intriguing and clever. Unfortunately, the devices are applied in a self-conscious, unsubtle, and heavy way that bogs the reader down and grinds to dust any interest the reader might have had in finding out the point of the story.
April 16, 2013
Well, this is the first book in 2013 that I am not going to finish reading. There are only a few books each year that for one reason or another, I will not finish (never more than four), but I simply do not have it in me to force myself to continue on past this quarter of the novel. It opens, at first, with the promise of a very different sort of novel. The reader is directly addressed (the second-person “you” appears frequently). Looking past this very distinct style choice, the words themselves feel very purposefully chosen and as the young man running across an island gives way to the narration (of sorts) of Elizabeth [Beth], who along with her boyfriend, Derek, are queueing up to board a transatlantic cruise. They stumble into Arthur, a seeming sort of con-man, who it soon becomes evident that Beth is more familiar with than she initially lets on.
Despite some glimmering hints of intriguing wording, the use of stream-of-consciousness quickly becomes overwhelming. After eight pages the originator of these thoughts (Beth) sums them up as simply “nonsense”! With a TBR pile that grows almost daily, I cannot calmly enjoy a book that openly acknowledges its time-wasting purpose! Beth’s unreliability as a narrator is evident, too, which makes her hard to connect with. The print version also has two different sets of page numbers which is highly distracting and takes longer than it should for this to be explained (they refer to the book within the book).
All the “slick” writing devices aside, this book offers little to actually connect with. As soon as Kennedy captures the readers’ attention, she quickly squanders it with nonsensical tangents. The characters aren’t likable or sympathetic enough to sustain interest - not even enough to just skim the remainder the novel. I love reading, but I don’t love reading something that seems to revel in wasting a reader’s time, mixed in with some surprisingly graphic language.
Despite some glimmering hints of intriguing wording, the use of stream-of-consciousness quickly becomes overwhelming. After eight pages the originator of these thoughts (Beth) sums them up as simply “nonsense”! With a TBR pile that grows almost daily, I cannot calmly enjoy a book that openly acknowledges its time-wasting purpose! Beth’s unreliability as a narrator is evident, too, which makes her hard to connect with. The print version also has two different sets of page numbers which is highly distracting and takes longer than it should for this to be explained (they refer to the book within the book).
All the “slick” writing devices aside, this book offers little to actually connect with. As soon as Kennedy captures the readers’ attention, she quickly squanders it with nonsensical tangents. The characters aren’t likable or sympathetic enough to sustain interest - not even enough to just skim the remainder the novel. I love reading, but I don’t love reading something that seems to revel in wasting a reader’s time, mixed in with some surprisingly graphic language.
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February 28, 2024It's always frustrating when first-rate prose-crafting skills are enlisted to unworthy ends, and even worse when the raw material of a good novel is emblobbed all over with the posturings and gimmicks of arid postmodern game-playing, and that certainly happens here. My full review: https://www.stevedonoghue.com/review-...
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June 15, 2012And Carol Birch reviews it at the Guardian (or the Grauniad as we used to call it) here.
Surely putting the word 'fake' in front of 'medium' is a tautology?
Surely putting the word 'fake' in front of 'medium' is a tautology?
November 30, 2014
After reading Oatley's book Such Stuff as Dreams on the psychology of fiction I understand that for a piece of fiction to be taken into the mind of a reader and become a simulation within their own mind they have to touch their reader. There are a few writers who do this for me to the extent of shaking my understanding and opening me up to new understandings, the poetry of TS Eliot, Blake and McCaig, and the writings of David Almond, Phlip Pulman and AL Kennedy are among them.
Kennedy crafts her prose with the heart catching precision of a poet, never a word wasted and many challenging. The Blue Book is packed with phrases such as 'kind hotel' is a fresh pairing that sparks memories of good times had in hotels, a posh hotel in Salzburg where room service was exemplary, we watched an epic thunderstorm and decided to have a child, of pools and understanding staff.
Elizabeth Barber, also know as Beth, is boarding a ship for a cross Atlantic cruise to New York with her completely adequate boyfriend Derek. Her friend paid for the trip but couldn't make it. Whilst waiting interminably to check in for boarding Elizabeth is asked to take part in a simple numbers trick with a street magician, and later he corners them on board, takes his meal with them and verbally assaults Elizabeth. But all is not as it seems and the book and the story are masterful sleights of hand.
The Blue Book is a puzzle box, extremely clever, revealing and deeply moving, it speaks both overtly and in its form of the nature of reading, of charlatan trickery and the probabilities that fake mediums use, whilst never losing contact with the painful history Elizabeth is trying so hard to run from and the difficulties of loving for real. The close reading the puzzle asks of the reader is rewarding and enlightening, teaching as it entertains. It is full of gut level punches and revelation.
Kennedy crafts her prose with the heart catching precision of a poet, never a word wasted and many challenging. The Blue Book is packed with phrases such as 'kind hotel' is a fresh pairing that sparks memories of good times had in hotels, a posh hotel in Salzburg where room service was exemplary, we watched an epic thunderstorm and decided to have a child, of pools and understanding staff.
Elizabeth Barber, also know as Beth, is boarding a ship for a cross Atlantic cruise to New York with her completely adequate boyfriend Derek. Her friend paid for the trip but couldn't make it. Whilst waiting interminably to check in for boarding Elizabeth is asked to take part in a simple numbers trick with a street magician, and later he corners them on board, takes his meal with them and verbally assaults Elizabeth. But all is not as it seems and the book and the story are masterful sleights of hand.
The Blue Book is a puzzle box, extremely clever, revealing and deeply moving, it speaks both overtly and in its form of the nature of reading, of charlatan trickery and the probabilities that fake mediums use, whilst never losing contact with the painful history Elizabeth is trying so hard to run from and the difficulties of loving for real. The close reading the puzzle asks of the reader is rewarding and enlightening, teaching as it entertains. It is full of gut level punches and revelation.
February 20, 2015
. . Note goodreads win. did not finish!!!!
There is an audience for this. He or she is creative, has an attention span (does not get frustrated), and probably some literature education background. Or an obnoxious undergraduate who references authors and writers, not because he likes reading but because he thinks it impressed women (sorta like that good will hunting see re: 'how do you like dem apples'). To me this had too many devices which segmented an intriguing plot, and destroyed any potential for character development. The pacing was fine, but the use of second person you, which effective in night circus but not here, was misleading and crowded the already stream of consciousness style. I was lost with present versus past. I was further lost by the use of first second and third person. Look, this was the author's creative way of using ill employed method with the goal of making us, the reader feel at sea.
So what's it about?
The reconnection between two people that used to have a psychic rip off gig (sounds so interesting, no?) are reunited on a swaying boat were neither can abandon the restrictions of the environment.
I'm not going to tell you how they meet or why they are on the ship. But let's just say it's never grand to see your previous bf in a trader Joes, let alone on a boat with your current partner, particularly if that previous relationship was a bit dysfunctional. A skilled writer with restraint would have put some feelings in this sort of collision of worlds, but i found it flat and uneventful.
Concluding remarks and why I really disliked the book.
There are readers who will love and gush over this. It was well written, but not my cup of tea. The literary adventurous will most likely curl his or her fingers around is binding and love it. Me I'm a simple night reader and this turned into a sea sickening, stomach churning read that failed to capture my attention and just sorta whimpered out once I found my bearings. It's an interesting style (needs to be used correctly), and i truly haven't seen it used much and especially with much success. And the ending, yes it was surprising and interesting, but really at that point I wanted to just throw it across the room.
To be completely honest I just hated how a good concept was squandered and stabbed like a dress on project runaway (Michael c I'm talking about you). It was heavily suppressed by too much creativity and not enough editing (i am restraining myself from making a textile comment here). This could have been hauntingly original but it was tragically obnoxious, and redundant if you consider this style reflecting house of leaves (a story with in a story... Etc. Etc).
Disclaimer i wrote this on my phone at one am...excuse those typos, yo.
There is an audience for this. He or she is creative, has an attention span (does not get frustrated), and probably some literature education background. Or an obnoxious undergraduate who references authors and writers, not because he likes reading but because he thinks it impressed women (sorta like that good will hunting see re: 'how do you like dem apples'). To me this had too many devices which segmented an intriguing plot, and destroyed any potential for character development. The pacing was fine, but the use of second person you, which effective in night circus but not here, was misleading and crowded the already stream of consciousness style. I was lost with present versus past. I was further lost by the use of first second and third person. Look, this was the author's creative way of using ill employed method with the goal of making us, the reader feel at sea.
So what's it about?
The reconnection between two people that used to have a psychic rip off gig (sounds so interesting, no?) are reunited on a swaying boat were neither can abandon the restrictions of the environment.
I'm not going to tell you how they meet or why they are on the ship. But let's just say it's never grand to see your previous bf in a trader Joes, let alone on a boat with your current partner, particularly if that previous relationship was a bit dysfunctional. A skilled writer with restraint would have put some feelings in this sort of collision of worlds, but i found it flat and uneventful.
Concluding remarks and why I really disliked the book.
There are readers who will love and gush over this. It was well written, but not my cup of tea. The literary adventurous will most likely curl his or her fingers around is binding and love it. Me I'm a simple night reader and this turned into a sea sickening, stomach churning read that failed to capture my attention and just sorta whimpered out once I found my bearings. It's an interesting style (needs to be used correctly), and i truly haven't seen it used much and especially with much success. And the ending, yes it was surprising and interesting, but really at that point I wanted to just throw it across the room.
To be completely honest I just hated how a good concept was squandered and stabbed like a dress on project runaway (Michael c I'm talking about you). It was heavily suppressed by too much creativity and not enough editing (i am restraining myself from making a textile comment here). This could have been hauntingly original but it was tragically obnoxious, and redundant if you consider this style reflecting house of leaves (a story with in a story... Etc. Etc).
Disclaimer i wrote this on my phone at one am...excuse those typos, yo.
September 6, 2021
Todavía no estoy segura de lo que leí... quiero releerlo para antes de dar una opinión. Pero sí puedo decir que el libros es bello y que la edición impresa vale mucho la pena.
February 25, 2017
The Blue Book is a complex, fractured story. It centres on middle-aged Beth, who is taking a cruise with her boyfriend, Derek, who may be about to propose. But it also jumps into Beth's past, when she was the lover and professional partner of Arthur, a fake medium, and in turn visits scenes from Arthur's past - and their history together. Some chapters seem entirely random and don't take on real significance until much later. The book is written mainly in the third person, but it occasionally inhabits Beth's head, so we see her thoughts in close-up, first-hand, stream-of-consciousness detail. It also appears to address the reader (or is it one of the characters?) directly, and there are playful details such as wrongly numbered pages - a little reference to the numerical code Beth and Arthur use to communicate with one another.
I'll address the main positive of this book first: the writing is simply sublime. As soon as I began it, I was finding lines I wanted to quote or write down on almost every page. Kennedy's use of language is brilliant, original and sometimes very offbeat (she frequently merges words together to create new meanings), but comes off as effective and innovative rather than deliberately 'quirky'. The plot, however, is more of a problem. The main set-up of 'love triangle on a boat' is comical, probably more so because this is a literary novel, yet the premise - at first glance - sounds like either pure trash or pure farce. To draw something intriguing and sometimes frightening out of this is no mean feat, to be sure, but there's no denying it's restrictive. Perhaps for this very reason, the narrative is choppy, and while I found the chapters detailing Beth and Arthur's work together interesting, there were others - scenes from the protagonists' childhoods, Arthur's solo work with wealthy customers - that bored me.
I loved how the reader is able to see Beth's thoughts in their purest form, and I liked her, but I often found the way the characters behaved around one another frustrating in the extreme. Every tiny thing seems to be fraught with difficulties and hugely overcomplicated - I wanted to reach into the book and knock some sense into them. I couldn't really figure Arthur out, either. I felt like Kennedy was hinting that he had some sort of mental health issues throughout the book, but never quite got at what these were. At points, he appears to be completely detached from reality and some of his monologues read as though he has severe learning difficulties. Kennedy is clearly an accomplished writer, so there's obviously some point to this, but - I'll be honest - I didn't understand what it was and I struggled to make sense of him as a character. His eccentricity seemed to jar alongside the intensely sexual nature of his relationship with Beth.
I skimmed through a number of reviews of this book after finishing it, and this passage from Katy Guest's review in The Independent particularly stood out to me: 'Some books are brilliant, challenging, memorable and bold, but the experience of reading them is quite unpleasant. A.L. Kennedy's latest is just such a book.' I wouldn't quite say The Blue Book was an unpleasant read, exactly, but I certainly found it impressive more than enjoyable. I can imagine many readers tiring of Beth and Arthur's hand-wringing over their relationship long before the final twist that makes sense of their (or, at least, Beth's) debilitating angst. The late deployment of this twist, and the suffocating sense of past trauma and emotional damage permeating the whole book, reminded me a lot of The Sense of an Ending, and my feelings about both books are similar - while beautifully written, they lack the power to truly engage or convince. I would read more by Kennedy, but I'd need to feel there would be more to hold my attention than just the language.
I'll address the main positive of this book first: the writing is simply sublime. As soon as I began it, I was finding lines I wanted to quote or write down on almost every page. Kennedy's use of language is brilliant, original and sometimes very offbeat (she frequently merges words together to create new meanings), but comes off as effective and innovative rather than deliberately 'quirky'. The plot, however, is more of a problem. The main set-up of 'love triangle on a boat' is comical, probably more so because this is a literary novel, yet the premise - at first glance - sounds like either pure trash or pure farce. To draw something intriguing and sometimes frightening out of this is no mean feat, to be sure, but there's no denying it's restrictive. Perhaps for this very reason, the narrative is choppy, and while I found the chapters detailing Beth and Arthur's work together interesting, there were others - scenes from the protagonists' childhoods, Arthur's solo work with wealthy customers - that bored me.
I loved how the reader is able to see Beth's thoughts in their purest form, and I liked her, but I often found the way the characters behaved around one another frustrating in the extreme. Every tiny thing seems to be fraught with difficulties and hugely overcomplicated - I wanted to reach into the book and knock some sense into them. I couldn't really figure Arthur out, either. I felt like Kennedy was hinting that he had some sort of mental health issues throughout the book, but never quite got at what these were. At points, he appears to be completely detached from reality and some of his monologues read as though he has severe learning difficulties. Kennedy is clearly an accomplished writer, so there's obviously some point to this, but - I'll be honest - I didn't understand what it was and I struggled to make sense of him as a character. His eccentricity seemed to jar alongside the intensely sexual nature of his relationship with Beth.
I skimmed through a number of reviews of this book after finishing it, and this passage from Katy Guest's review in The Independent particularly stood out to me: 'Some books are brilliant, challenging, memorable and bold, but the experience of reading them is quite unpleasant. A.L. Kennedy's latest is just such a book.' I wouldn't quite say The Blue Book was an unpleasant read, exactly, but I certainly found it impressive more than enjoyable. I can imagine many readers tiring of Beth and Arthur's hand-wringing over their relationship long before the final twist that makes sense of their (or, at least, Beth's) debilitating angst. The late deployment of this twist, and the suffocating sense of past trauma and emotional damage permeating the whole book, reminded me a lot of The Sense of an Ending, and my feelings about both books are similar - while beautifully written, they lack the power to truly engage or convince. I would read more by Kennedy, but I'd need to feel there would be more to hold my attention than just the language.
January 28, 2016
A.L. Kennedy "Das blaue Buch" - Buchbesprechung oder auch: Ich bin ein Fan der Langeweile
Ich hatte "Das Blaue Buch" von A.L. Kennedy bereits Weihnachten vor einem Jahr bekommen (oder war es sogar vor zwei Jahren?) und es lag eine Weile in meinem Regal und ich konnte mich nicht aufraffen, es zu lesen, weil ich ahnte, dass es keine leichte Lektüre werden würde (nicht, dass ich immer auf leichte Lektüre stehe, im Gegenteil, aber es gibt so Zeiten, da kann ich mich einfach nicht aufraffen, ein Buch in die Hand zu nehmen, durch das ich mich unter Umständen, was man von anderen so gehört hat, quälen muss).
Schon der Anfang macht einem deutlich, dass man sich in ein Buch begibt, welches andere Sphären auslotet. Es geht nicht darum, eine Geschichte von A-Z zu erzählen, sondern es geht um die Tiefe. Vielleicht bleiben wir bei A, vielleicht kommen wir bis B, egal, wie weit wir kommen, es wird tief getaucht werden. "Aber hier ist es, das Buch, das du liest. Offensichtlich. Dein Buch - jetzt fängt es an, es ist berührt und aufgeschlagen. Du könntest es anheben, wenn du wolltest, überlegen, ob es wohl mehr wiegt als eine Taube, oder ein Turnschuh, oder wahrscheinlich ein gutes Stück weniger als ein Laib Vollkornbrot. Diese Möglichkeiten bietet es dir."
Um ein Buch wie "Das Blaue Buch" zu lesen ist es gut, dachte ich mir, ein wenig freie Zeit am Stück zur Verfügung zu haben, damit ich nicht beim Tauchgang verloren gehe. Dieses Jahr während der Weihnachtsferien war es dann so weit. Ich begann es und las es in einem Rutsch, innerhalb von drei Tagen, durch. Vorher hatten mir noch zwei Lesefreundinnen meines Vertrauens mitgeteilt, dass sie sich hindurch "gequält" hätten, beziehungsweise die eine hat sich nicht gequält, sie hat es einfach wieder weg gelegt. Ich war also auf einiges gefasst.
Ein Paar geht auf eine Kreuzfahrt. Dass der Mann ein Langweiler ist, kapiert man irgendwie sofort. Dass die Frau mit ihm zusammen ist, weil sie sich von Langeweile Sicherheit erhofft, die sie braucht, weil sie, wenn nicht zerbrochen, so doch sicher angeknackst ist, kapiert man auch schnell. Dass das nicht gut gehen kann, weiß irgendwie jeder. Zumal in Büchern. Ich glaube, im richtigen Leben geht es öfter gut, weil im richtigen Leben die Handlungen nicht aufgelöst werden müssen und der Begriff "gut" generell pragmatischer interpretiert wird.
Den Rest der Besprechung findet Ihr unter http://lobedentag.blogspot.de/search/...
Ich hatte "Das Blaue Buch" von A.L. Kennedy bereits Weihnachten vor einem Jahr bekommen (oder war es sogar vor zwei Jahren?) und es lag eine Weile in meinem Regal und ich konnte mich nicht aufraffen, es zu lesen, weil ich ahnte, dass es keine leichte Lektüre werden würde (nicht, dass ich immer auf leichte Lektüre stehe, im Gegenteil, aber es gibt so Zeiten, da kann ich mich einfach nicht aufraffen, ein Buch in die Hand zu nehmen, durch das ich mich unter Umständen, was man von anderen so gehört hat, quälen muss).
Schon der Anfang macht einem deutlich, dass man sich in ein Buch begibt, welches andere Sphären auslotet. Es geht nicht darum, eine Geschichte von A-Z zu erzählen, sondern es geht um die Tiefe. Vielleicht bleiben wir bei A, vielleicht kommen wir bis B, egal, wie weit wir kommen, es wird tief getaucht werden. "Aber hier ist es, das Buch, das du liest. Offensichtlich. Dein Buch - jetzt fängt es an, es ist berührt und aufgeschlagen. Du könntest es anheben, wenn du wolltest, überlegen, ob es wohl mehr wiegt als eine Taube, oder ein Turnschuh, oder wahrscheinlich ein gutes Stück weniger als ein Laib Vollkornbrot. Diese Möglichkeiten bietet es dir."
Um ein Buch wie "Das Blaue Buch" zu lesen ist es gut, dachte ich mir, ein wenig freie Zeit am Stück zur Verfügung zu haben, damit ich nicht beim Tauchgang verloren gehe. Dieses Jahr während der Weihnachtsferien war es dann so weit. Ich begann es und las es in einem Rutsch, innerhalb von drei Tagen, durch. Vorher hatten mir noch zwei Lesefreundinnen meines Vertrauens mitgeteilt, dass sie sich hindurch "gequält" hätten, beziehungsweise die eine hat sich nicht gequält, sie hat es einfach wieder weg gelegt. Ich war also auf einiges gefasst.
Ein Paar geht auf eine Kreuzfahrt. Dass der Mann ein Langweiler ist, kapiert man irgendwie sofort. Dass die Frau mit ihm zusammen ist, weil sie sich von Langeweile Sicherheit erhofft, die sie braucht, weil sie, wenn nicht zerbrochen, so doch sicher angeknackst ist, kapiert man auch schnell. Dass das nicht gut gehen kann, weiß irgendwie jeder. Zumal in Büchern. Ich glaube, im richtigen Leben geht es öfter gut, weil im richtigen Leben die Handlungen nicht aufgelöst werden müssen und der Begriff "gut" generell pragmatischer interpretiert wird.
Den Rest der Besprechung findet Ihr unter http://lobedentag.blogspot.de/search/...
September 22, 2011
i don't know why i keep reading these contemporary novels . another major disappointment . i really wonder if any of the reviewers who spoke so highly of this book actaually read it
although the story sounded entertaining enough about a woman on a cruise to America with her anaemic boyfriend meeting a past boyfriend who was involved with her in a business as fake mediums the actuality is baffling and endlessly tedious . the author likes to play games with the reader and it is all very tiresome . when it came to some reminiscense of the civil war in Rwanda relayed by one of the victims of this charade of communicating with the dead the book hit the floor . the author is apparently also a stand up comedienne who has appeared at the Edinburgh Festival . that should tell you all you want to know . oh you are so clever and cutting edge ... about as cutting edge as Jonathan Ross .
the book itself has blue edged pages and is packaged like Gideons Bible which i liked but it is a pity it is wasted on this post modern nonsense
although the story sounded entertaining enough about a woman on a cruise to America with her anaemic boyfriend meeting a past boyfriend who was involved with her in a business as fake mediums the actuality is baffling and endlessly tedious . the author likes to play games with the reader and it is all very tiresome . when it came to some reminiscense of the civil war in Rwanda relayed by one of the victims of this charade of communicating with the dead the book hit the floor . the author is apparently also a stand up comedienne who has appeared at the Edinburgh Festival . that should tell you all you want to know . oh you are so clever and cutting edge ... about as cutting edge as Jonathan Ross .
the book itself has blue edged pages and is packaged like Gideons Bible which i liked but it is a pity it is wasted on this post modern nonsense
July 20, 2014
The covers are blue. The endpapers are blue. The edges of the pages are dyed blue. There is an attractive palmistry diagram picked out in gold on the cover. Thankfully, the text is black on a standard white background. You begin to read and are surprised to find the book talking to you in the second person. You are annoyed that the book would presume to know your emotions and to pass judgment on the quality of your character. Still, there's a bit about rocks you quite like, so you press on.
Soon, you meet an English woman on a boat who refuses to admit to herself that her boyfriend is also English and so she talks to herself in italics for what seems like fifty pages. She meets a skeevy man on the boat who is skeevy in an unapologetic English way, but she cannot get away from him without the assistance of vomit. Then, the scene shifts to a spiritualist whom you nearly forgot about and the sequins are a welcome change.
But then it is time to go your husband's mother's house for his birthday. You bring the chocolate cake you made to his bizarre specifications. Your mother-in-law is a more avid and a wider reader than you. Her leisure time does not, generally, involve the changing of diapers, and so the overflowing bookcases in her house are not a pretense to intellectualism, but an invitation to conversation.
Her chili is delicious and your cake is well received. While the men struggle with the metal puzzles your husband got as gifts, you announce that you are suffering the Reader's Dilemma. Your mother-in-law looks at you quizzically.
"I'm reading this book I'm not enjoying, but I kind of want to know where it goes," you say, and she explodes with sympathy having faced the same problem many times before. She wants to know what your book is about.
"I don't know. I think it's one of those things where two characters run around and their stories are supposed to intertwine eventually." That's all you can remember of the blurb that sold you on the book and so you splutter to describe what you've read so far. Everyone in the room makes a face. You have convinced them of the frustrating nature of the book.
But you are still taken with the design of the book as an object. You describe it in glowing terms and your mother-in-law is excited until you get to the part about the palmistry diagram. She makes a "pft" sound and turns away from you. She is a humanist, a rationalist, a scientist. Later you will remember a story about a neighbor's dead dog that she told over dinner to illustrate her impatience with the improbable. In connecting these events, you will feel the thrill of snapping a puzzle piece into place.
But for now, you divvy up the cake and take your babies home where they will laugh and cry and fall over many times before you can get them to bed. You sit in the dark and in a moment of peace, you remember all the other books calling to you from your own, more modest shelves. The covers are plain black or utilitarian library bindings, but you can feel desire for them boiling in your chest. You make a plan about what to do with the book.
As you rise to take a shower you think these words. You stumble over the puzzle piece metaphor because you think it's cliche, but you let it stand. When you reach for your towel you realize you don't have an ending. Frankly, the whole endeavor strikes you as a bit too clever for it's own good. You decide to think of something in the morning, but you have no intention of doing so.
Soon, you meet an English woman on a boat who refuses to admit to herself that her boyfriend is also English and so she talks to herself in italics for what seems like fifty pages. She meets a skeevy man on the boat who is skeevy in an unapologetic English way, but she cannot get away from him without the assistance of vomit. Then, the scene shifts to a spiritualist whom you nearly forgot about and the sequins are a welcome change.
But then it is time to go your husband's mother's house for his birthday. You bring the chocolate cake you made to his bizarre specifications. Your mother-in-law is a more avid and a wider reader than you. Her leisure time does not, generally, involve the changing of diapers, and so the overflowing bookcases in her house are not a pretense to intellectualism, but an invitation to conversation.
Her chili is delicious and your cake is well received. While the men struggle with the metal puzzles your husband got as gifts, you announce that you are suffering the Reader's Dilemma. Your mother-in-law looks at you quizzically.
"I'm reading this book I'm not enjoying, but I kind of want to know where it goes," you say, and she explodes with sympathy having faced the same problem many times before. She wants to know what your book is about.
"I don't know. I think it's one of those things where two characters run around and their stories are supposed to intertwine eventually." That's all you can remember of the blurb that sold you on the book and so you splutter to describe what you've read so far. Everyone in the room makes a face. You have convinced them of the frustrating nature of the book.
But you are still taken with the design of the book as an object. You describe it in glowing terms and your mother-in-law is excited until you get to the part about the palmistry diagram. She makes a "pft" sound and turns away from you. She is a humanist, a rationalist, a scientist. Later you will remember a story about a neighbor's dead dog that she told over dinner to illustrate her impatience with the improbable. In connecting these events, you will feel the thrill of snapping a puzzle piece into place.
But for now, you divvy up the cake and take your babies home where they will laugh and cry and fall over many times before you can get them to bed. You sit in the dark and in a moment of peace, you remember all the other books calling to you from your own, more modest shelves. The covers are plain black or utilitarian library bindings, but you can feel desire for them boiling in your chest. You make a plan about what to do with the book.
As you rise to take a shower you think these words. You stumble over the puzzle piece metaphor because you think it's cliche, but you let it stand. When you reach for your towel you realize you don't have an ending. Frankly, the whole endeavor strikes you as a bit too clever for it's own good. You decide to think of something in the morning, but you have no intention of doing so.
June 2, 2013
A.L.Kennedy is one of those writers who's books always intimidate me. She is not the easiest read, and her characters are not the easiest to connect with. Her intensity is daunting, even though her levity is always evident (she has a second career as a stand up comic.) But I find myself always, always picking up her books, not only for the sharp observations, not only for her fierce honesty, but because of the writing.
Her latest novel takes us into a world of magic, fortune telling, and mediums. The narrator, Beth, is embarking on an ocean cruise with her boring boyfriend, when she has an encounter with a annoyingly chatty man in the line as she's boarding. She, of course will have repeated encounters with this man as she moves about the ship alone; bad weather has caused her boyfriend to take to his bed. And slowly, through Beth's stream of consciousness, she reveals her past as a fake medium with the chatty man. What A.L.Kennedy gives us, rather than the expected sea yarn of other authors, is an examination of the world of mediums, an exploration of the people who would knowingly deceive the fragile and bereaved, and shows them to us in an nonjudgemental light. She doesn't do right and wrong, and indeed shows us how the predators can actually do good, bringing closure and helping victims through their grief. She takes you into the heart of things and guides you with absolute honesty.
And the writing, ah the writing.
She describes the passenger emergency drill on the ocean liner,as a "huge release of the bewildered"
After listing the multitude of activities available to passengers, says "there is an overwhelming sense that she has entered an environment prepared for people who are quite terribly afraid of being left to their own devices."
And then passages like these, which actually make you stop, reread, linger, and savor. Standing on the balcony of her ocean suite, Beth
"can see the calm metal side of the ship. Out of her sight it must drop into the water, clean down and vanish, angle in through the cold and the dark until it meets the rest of itself, folds and seals monumentally into the hard depth of a keel, Around them the yellowish spill of their lights spreads across gently progressing water: a careless halo pouring out into the night, showing the white gleam where they cut the water's skin."
A lovely novel, worth the work, leaving me waiting for her next book.
Her latest novel takes us into a world of magic, fortune telling, and mediums. The narrator, Beth, is embarking on an ocean cruise with her boring boyfriend, when she has an encounter with a annoyingly chatty man in the line as she's boarding. She, of course will have repeated encounters with this man as she moves about the ship alone; bad weather has caused her boyfriend to take to his bed. And slowly, through Beth's stream of consciousness, she reveals her past as a fake medium with the chatty man. What A.L.Kennedy gives us, rather than the expected sea yarn of other authors, is an examination of the world of mediums, an exploration of the people who would knowingly deceive the fragile and bereaved, and shows them to us in an nonjudgemental light. She doesn't do right and wrong, and indeed shows us how the predators can actually do good, bringing closure and helping victims through their grief. She takes you into the heart of things and guides you with absolute honesty.
And the writing, ah the writing.
She describes the passenger emergency drill on the ocean liner,as a "huge release of the bewildered"
After listing the multitude of activities available to passengers, says "there is an overwhelming sense that she has entered an environment prepared for people who are quite terribly afraid of being left to their own devices."
And then passages like these, which actually make you stop, reread, linger, and savor. Standing on the balcony of her ocean suite, Beth
"can see the calm metal side of the ship. Out of her sight it must drop into the water, clean down and vanish, angle in through the cold and the dark until it meets the rest of itself, folds and seals monumentally into the hard depth of a keel, Around them the yellowish spill of their lights spreads across gently progressing water: a careless halo pouring out into the night, showing the white gleam where they cut the water's skin."
A lovely novel, worth the work, leaving me waiting for her next book.
April 17, 2015
this review refers to the audiobook version.
it isn't often that a novel leaves me feeling as if the book itself is patting me on the shoulder--sort of a "there, there, dear" pat--while i sit in a sort of stunned incomprehension about what just happened. but A. L. Kennedy is not by any means a run-of-the-mill sort of novelist, and this novel is certainly not a run-of-the-mill book.
this book does address "you" quite directly sometimes. whether the you is you, the reader, or another character in the book, is not certain to me; but i will say that it's a creepy act this voice-of-the-book does, worming its way into your own life. which, in the usual run of book reading, is supposed to not be a part of the bargain. it's the book's characters, or maybe its writer, who is supposed to be doing the revealing stuff. being a reader is all about being a voyeur, not about being scrutinized.
but there's the book, patting me on the shoulder again.
i'll let the NYT reviewer do the heavy lifting on the facts of the book, such as can be known. or inferred. for me, i'm going to run out and buy a print version so i can read it.
oh, and here's another couple goodies:
interview with A. L. Kennedy on this book
A.L. Kennedy's blog
the audiobook version, by the way, is absolutely wonderfully read. i can't toss enough rose petals in the path of the reader--she read with great expression, sensitivity, variety. it cannot have been an easy book to perform--not in the least for all the erotica it contains--but because of the fast-shifting emotion of the characters. the audiobook is highly recommended. but there are some games at play here--word games, number games--for which i think the print version will be needed. and anyway i want to read it again, starting now.
it isn't often that a novel leaves me feeling as if the book itself is patting me on the shoulder--sort of a "there, there, dear" pat--while i sit in a sort of stunned incomprehension about what just happened. but A. L. Kennedy is not by any means a run-of-the-mill sort of novelist, and this novel is certainly not a run-of-the-mill book.
this book does address "you" quite directly sometimes. whether the you is you, the reader, or another character in the book, is not certain to me; but i will say that it's a creepy act this voice-of-the-book does, worming its way into your own life. which, in the usual run of book reading, is supposed to not be a part of the bargain. it's the book's characters, or maybe its writer, who is supposed to be doing the revealing stuff. being a reader is all about being a voyeur, not about being scrutinized.
but there's the book, patting me on the shoulder again.
i'll let the NYT reviewer do the heavy lifting on the facts of the book, such as can be known. or inferred. for me, i'm going to run out and buy a print version so i can read it.
oh, and here's another couple goodies:
interview with A. L. Kennedy on this book
A.L. Kennedy's blog
the audiobook version, by the way, is absolutely wonderfully read. i can't toss enough rose petals in the path of the reader--she read with great expression, sensitivity, variety. it cannot have been an easy book to perform--not in the least for all the erotica it contains--but because of the fast-shifting emotion of the characters. the audiobook is highly recommended. but there are some games at play here--word games, number games--for which i think the print version will be needed. and anyway i want to read it again, starting now.
July 23, 2012
DNF, and skipped to the end to see the "twist".
Terrible waste of time and money this. The only reason it's not going in the charity bin is the beauty of the book itself. It'll compliment any bookcase.
And that's the only reason I give it two stars.
Terrible waste of time and money this. The only reason it's not going in the charity bin is the beauty of the book itself. It'll compliment any bookcase.
And that's the only reason I give it two stars.
February 13, 2017
I read this on a plane journey and I picked it because it featured a journey (albeit on a boat). There were elements I struggled with - the pacing and sentence structure, but they became what I loved the most. Such a cleverly woven story that lingers in the mind. I wish I could write like this!
July 2, 2023
Read for class and wanted to like it so badly.
And I did, for a bit. Then I just wanted it to be over.
And I did, for a bit. Then I just wanted it to be over.
July 2, 2023
Astonishing magic trick of words. Favorite meta novel so far. And flirtatious indeed.
July 23, 2025
What a story. I am deeply impressed and deeply touched
July 26, 2024
A wonderful novel, very light on plot but heavy on precisely noticed detail and a worldview unlike any I've encountered before. She's also advising my MA project, so I've got some bias, but she pulls a few tricks in this book I've not seen done anywhere else.
November 25, 2012
AL Kennedy The Blue Book
The ‘story’ in this book is, at a superficial level, a simple one. A woman, Elizabeth, has a holiday on a cruise liner with a man, Derek, who wishes to marry her. Also on the liner is another man, Arthur, who is a rather superior confidence trickster who she has assisted in the past, and with whom she has been emotionally involved. Derek is ill for most of the voyage, which allows Elizabeth and Arthur to meet.
But that isn’t what the story is about, of course. No book from AL Kennedy would be that simple. Arthur regards himself as a medium, enabling those he helps to reconcile themselves to the loss of departed husbands (it is mainly women he helps). Elizabeth has come to see the falseness of this help, has rejected it, and tried to free herself from Arthur. Elizabeth and Arthur are damaged souls, and their history that damaged them is revealed as the story progresses. A Blue Book is a collection of facts, data, usually issued by governments or official bodies. The Blue Book that Elizabeth gives Arthur at the end of the book reveals the horrifying event that made her what she is.
Blue Books are often collections of numerical data. There is much play with the number codes that Elizabeth and Arthur use to communicate privately during their performances, and these codes spill over into the book itself. At the bottom of each page there is a conventional page number, and at the top of each page there is also a number. It is usually the same number as the page number. But then we find 888 following 24, and on the page following 888 is 26. What is this number 888 telling us? The numbers are discussed (around page 130 in my edition), although they’re not, of course, set out as a kind of lookup, you have to work at it, and sometimes it all seems more obscure than when you started. It seems that a number can mean several things. The numerical equivalent of a homophone or homonym? 8 may be an accident, or it may be No. Perhaps this makes this book sound unattractive, but it isn’t. The book is beautifully written, lyrical, and thought-provoking.
The book explores the relationship between Elizabeth and Arthur. If ever two people can be described as having fucked each other’s minds up, it is these two. They are bad for each other, and they know that, and talk to and about each other in a stream of unconsciousness that is fascinating. Sometimes people say about a book that they couldn’t put it down. Sometimes you’re only too pleased to put this book down and stagger away to the gin and tonic, or whatever your restorative is, but you can’t help thinking about it, and you have to go back and read on. And re-read the pages before the page at which you put the book down to resolve your confusion. This is not a linear novel. And there are passages addressed to ‘you’. The reader wonders after a time who ‘you’ is (the author’s and reader’s common understanding?).
Kennedy doesn’t tell everything at once. Insights are hinted at, and she plays games with you: she can be misleading, and the revelation of the truth is in itself enlightening. Her novels are always dark. She can be very funny, but it’s not the humour of laughing out loud. It’s the fun of a rather sad wit.
The description of what might be called their lovemaking is explicit, although lovemaking is really an even more inappropriate word for what happens between Elizabeth and Arthur than usual. But it is convincing, and you can understand why they have to behave to each other in the way they do, while at the same time being grateful that you haven’t yourself experienced this kind of nihilistic coupling. At least I was.
But for all this, it’s a remarkable book, beautifully written, showing what Elizabeth and Arthur are. It’s not an easy book, and it’s often painful, but it is honest.
There’s a very good review in the Guardian by Carol Birch, who wrote Jamrach’s Menagerie.
The ‘story’ in this book is, at a superficial level, a simple one. A woman, Elizabeth, has a holiday on a cruise liner with a man, Derek, who wishes to marry her. Also on the liner is another man, Arthur, who is a rather superior confidence trickster who she has assisted in the past, and with whom she has been emotionally involved. Derek is ill for most of the voyage, which allows Elizabeth and Arthur to meet.
But that isn’t what the story is about, of course. No book from AL Kennedy would be that simple. Arthur regards himself as a medium, enabling those he helps to reconcile themselves to the loss of departed husbands (it is mainly women he helps). Elizabeth has come to see the falseness of this help, has rejected it, and tried to free herself from Arthur. Elizabeth and Arthur are damaged souls, and their history that damaged them is revealed as the story progresses. A Blue Book is a collection of facts, data, usually issued by governments or official bodies. The Blue Book that Elizabeth gives Arthur at the end of the book reveals the horrifying event that made her what she is.
Blue Books are often collections of numerical data. There is much play with the number codes that Elizabeth and Arthur use to communicate privately during their performances, and these codes spill over into the book itself. At the bottom of each page there is a conventional page number, and at the top of each page there is also a number. It is usually the same number as the page number. But then we find 888 following 24, and on the page following 888 is 26. What is this number 888 telling us? The numbers are discussed (around page 130 in my edition), although they’re not, of course, set out as a kind of lookup, you have to work at it, and sometimes it all seems more obscure than when you started. It seems that a number can mean several things. The numerical equivalent of a homophone or homonym? 8 may be an accident, or it may be No. Perhaps this makes this book sound unattractive, but it isn’t. The book is beautifully written, lyrical, and thought-provoking.
The book explores the relationship between Elizabeth and Arthur. If ever two people can be described as having fucked each other’s minds up, it is these two. They are bad for each other, and they know that, and talk to and about each other in a stream of unconsciousness that is fascinating. Sometimes people say about a book that they couldn’t put it down. Sometimes you’re only too pleased to put this book down and stagger away to the gin and tonic, or whatever your restorative is, but you can’t help thinking about it, and you have to go back and read on. And re-read the pages before the page at which you put the book down to resolve your confusion. This is not a linear novel. And there are passages addressed to ‘you’. The reader wonders after a time who ‘you’ is (the author’s and reader’s common understanding?).
Kennedy doesn’t tell everything at once. Insights are hinted at, and she plays games with you: she can be misleading, and the revelation of the truth is in itself enlightening. Her novels are always dark. She can be very funny, but it’s not the humour of laughing out loud. It’s the fun of a rather sad wit.
The description of what might be called their lovemaking is explicit, although lovemaking is really an even more inappropriate word for what happens between Elizabeth and Arthur than usual. But it is convincing, and you can understand why they have to behave to each other in the way they do, while at the same time being grateful that you haven’t yourself experienced this kind of nihilistic coupling. At least I was.
But for all this, it’s a remarkable book, beautifully written, showing what Elizabeth and Arthur are. It’s not an easy book, and it’s often painful, but it is honest.
There’s a very good review in the Guardian by Carol Birch, who wrote Jamrach’s Menagerie.
September 21, 2015
. . Note goodreads win.
DNF
There is an audience for this. He or she is creative, has an attention span (does not get frustrated), and probably some literature education background. Or an obnoxious undergraduate who references authors and writers, not because he likes reading but because he thinks it impressed women (sorta like that good will hunting see re: 'how do you like dem apples'). To me this had too many devices which segmented an intriguing plot, and destroyed any potential for character development. The pacing was fine, but the use of second person you, which effective in night circus but not here, was misleading and crowded the already stream of consciousness style. I was lost with present versus past. I was further lost by the use of first second and third person. Look, this was the author's creative way of using ill employed method with the goal of making us, the reader feel at sea.
So what's it about?
The reconnection between two people that used to have a psychic rip off gig (sounds so interesting, no?) are reunited on a swaying boat were neither can abandon the restrictions of the environment.
I'm not going to tell you how they meet or why they are on the ship. But let's just say it's never grand to see your previous bf in a trader Joes, let alone on a boat with your current partner, particularly if that previous relationship was a bit dysfunctional. A skilled writer with restraint would have put some feelings in this sort of collision of worlds, but i found it flat and uneventful.
Concluding remarks and why I really disliked the book.
There are readers who will love and gush over this. It was well written, but not my cup of tea. The literary adventurous will most likely curl his or her fingers around is binding and love it. Me I'm a simple night reader and this turned into a sea sickening, stomach churning read that failed to capture my attention and just sorta whimpered out once I found my bearings. It's an interesting style (needs to be used correctly), and i truly haven't seen it used much and especially with much success. And the ending, yes it was surprising and interesting, but really at that point I wanted to just throw it across the room.
To be completely honest I just hated how a good concept was squandered and stabbed like a dress on project runaway (Michael c I'm talking about you). It was heavily suppressed by too much creativity and not enough editing (i am restraining myself from making a textile comment here). This could have been hauntingly original but it was tragically obnoxious, and redundant if you consider this style reflecting house of leaves (a story with in a story... Etc. Etc).
DNF
There is an audience for this. He or she is creative, has an attention span (does not get frustrated), and probably some literature education background. Or an obnoxious undergraduate who references authors and writers, not because he likes reading but because he thinks it impressed women (sorta like that good will hunting see re: 'how do you like dem apples'). To me this had too many devices which segmented an intriguing plot, and destroyed any potential for character development. The pacing was fine, but the use of second person you, which effective in night circus but not here, was misleading and crowded the already stream of consciousness style. I was lost with present versus past. I was further lost by the use of first second and third person. Look, this was the author's creative way of using ill employed method with the goal of making us, the reader feel at sea.
So what's it about?
The reconnection between two people that used to have a psychic rip off gig (sounds so interesting, no?) are reunited on a swaying boat were neither can abandon the restrictions of the environment.
I'm not going to tell you how they meet or why they are on the ship. But let's just say it's never grand to see your previous bf in a trader Joes, let alone on a boat with your current partner, particularly if that previous relationship was a bit dysfunctional. A skilled writer with restraint would have put some feelings in this sort of collision of worlds, but i found it flat and uneventful.
Concluding remarks and why I really disliked the book.
There are readers who will love and gush over this. It was well written, but not my cup of tea. The literary adventurous will most likely curl his or her fingers around is binding and love it. Me I'm a simple night reader and this turned into a sea sickening, stomach churning read that failed to capture my attention and just sorta whimpered out once I found my bearings. It's an interesting style (needs to be used correctly), and i truly haven't seen it used much and especially with much success. And the ending, yes it was surprising and interesting, but really at that point I wanted to just throw it across the room.
To be completely honest I just hated how a good concept was squandered and stabbed like a dress on project runaway (Michael c I'm talking about you). It was heavily suppressed by too much creativity and not enough editing (i am restraining myself from making a textile comment here). This could have been hauntingly original but it was tragically obnoxious, and redundant if you consider this style reflecting house of leaves (a story with in a story... Etc. Etc).
Read
June 24, 2016A wildly imaginative but hugely considered story of love. It's a bit difficult to get through the first bit, but if you suspend your desire for explanation, all will be revealed... well almost all. Both the protagonists are magicians (of a sort) after all. And what greater magic trick is there than the trick of falling in love.
Consider these passages from the start of the book:
p. 38 Love. Such a terrible world -- always demands you should be the accomplice, should comply -- can't say it without that sense of licking, tasting, parting your lips to be open, to welcome whatever it is that slips in beneath your breath, and then you find yourself closing to keep it, mouth it, learn its needs -- this invisible medicine, this invisible disease. It takes a hold.
p. 39 But eventually you're wholly free of thinking and can begin to uncover who you are with him, touch against touch. And you make beauties together. You and whoever he happens to be. It does seem wrong to say so, but who he is can seem slightly irrelevant. Not in a bad way -- although it does sound bad -- the specific identity of the gentleman does not, to be honest, matter that much.
p. 40 ...this is not love, this is not in any way that word. This is safe. You are safe. You are lucky and not confined -- not really -- it's rther that you enjoy prudent limitations, almost always have. You are not unaware of love's damages, that chaos and realise you have been spared, are sparing yourself. You get to pursue what are not relationships, more a series of hobbies, indoor games for raining evenings and afternoons.
... [on falling in love] He has, in the course of doing nothing, suspended you in want and want and want. And through you come reeling these dreadful truths: that you respect him and fully intend to be proud of him hereafter and to see him both happy and well -- and you'll need him kept warm in the winter and cool when it's hot and will let no ugly breeze come near him and no wander be permitted to annoy him and you wish for him to be comfortable, at the very least comfortable for ever. And these are desires that ache in your deeper than sweating, or bending, or sucking, or any of the thin and predictable memories or the fantasies that might defend you from the present, too present reality of him. The tiny idea of naming him darling is almost unsurvivably arousing.
p. 41 It won't be sex, it will be speaking. And -- God help you -- it will also be admiration, tenderness, concern -- this excruciating list of necessities which are all chained to making love. You will make love. You are in love. You weren't when he was leaning in the doorway. Then he stepped over here and you were.
You are.
Consider these passages from the start of the book:
p. 38 Love. Such a terrible world -- always demands you should be the accomplice, should comply -- can't say it without that sense of licking, tasting, parting your lips to be open, to welcome whatever it is that slips in beneath your breath, and then you find yourself closing to keep it, mouth it, learn its needs -- this invisible medicine, this invisible disease. It takes a hold.
p. 39 But eventually you're wholly free of thinking and can begin to uncover who you are with him, touch against touch. And you make beauties together. You and whoever he happens to be. It does seem wrong to say so, but who he is can seem slightly irrelevant. Not in a bad way -- although it does sound bad -- the specific identity of the gentleman does not, to be honest, matter that much.
p. 40 ...this is not love, this is not in any way that word. This is safe. You are safe. You are lucky and not confined -- not really -- it's rther that you enjoy prudent limitations, almost always have. You are not unaware of love's damages, that chaos and realise you have been spared, are sparing yourself. You get to pursue what are not relationships, more a series of hobbies, indoor games for raining evenings and afternoons.
... [on falling in love] He has, in the course of doing nothing, suspended you in want and want and want. And through you come reeling these dreadful truths: that you respect him and fully intend to be proud of him hereafter and to see him both happy and well -- and you'll need him kept warm in the winter and cool when it's hot and will let no ugly breeze come near him and no wander be permitted to annoy him and you wish for him to be comfortable, at the very least comfortable for ever. And these are desires that ache in your deeper than sweating, or bending, or sucking, or any of the thin and predictable memories or the fantasies that might defend you from the present, too present reality of him. The tiny idea of naming him darling is almost unsurvivably arousing.
p. 41 It won't be sex, it will be speaking. And -- God help you -- it will also be admiration, tenderness, concern -- this excruciating list of necessities which are all chained to making love. You will make love. You are in love. You weren't when he was leaning in the doorway. Then he stepped over here and you were.
You are.
May 17, 2012
Our protagonist is Beth, who is going off on a cruise with her boyfriend Derek. She feels that Derek is about to propose, but she still has feelings for her previous lover, Arthur, and so she's apprehensive about how she should react to this proposal. Through flashbacks we learn more of her relationship with Arthur, who she worked with in a psychic medium show - though the act was all about observation rather than genuine clairvoyance.
Sounds like a simple little tale really, doesn't it? Well, this simple little tale required an awful lot of dense angst-ridden writing to be told. Though written mainly in the third person, a lot of it is written from inside Beth's mind (fortunately these bits are in italics, so you can at least keep track of it). However, for me there's just wasn't enough happening to justify the pages and pages of stream-of consciousness type emotional gumph there was to wade through.
This felt like an author makiing an effort to show as all how clever and cutting-edge she was. She has the book itself assume a role in the narrative and address the reader directly. She messes around with the numbering of the pages which I'm sure would have revealed something or other if I'd only I'd cared enough to work it out. What's wrong with finding a good story and telling it simply? Do we really need such gimmicks?
It wasn't all bad. Some of the writing is actually quite beautiful - there's just too much of it. The ending was very well done, and there a twist in the final pages that almost persuaded me to award an extra star. But even the great ending can't make up for all the times I picked up this book with a sigh, forcing myself to plough through a bit more just so I could get it finished. I'll give it two stars; it probably deserves more, but I'm afraid this just wasn't for me.
Sounds like a simple little tale really, doesn't it? Well, this simple little tale required an awful lot of dense angst-ridden writing to be told. Though written mainly in the third person, a lot of it is written from inside Beth's mind (fortunately these bits are in italics, so you can at least keep track of it). However, for me there's just wasn't enough happening to justify the pages and pages of stream-of consciousness type emotional gumph there was to wade through.
This felt like an author makiing an effort to show as all how clever and cutting-edge she was. She has the book itself assume a role in the narrative and address the reader directly. She messes around with the numbering of the pages which I'm sure would have revealed something or other if I'd only I'd cared enough to work it out. What's wrong with finding a good story and telling it simply? Do we really need such gimmicks?
It wasn't all bad. Some of the writing is actually quite beautiful - there's just too much of it. The ending was very well done, and there a twist in the final pages that almost persuaded me to award an extra star. But even the great ending can't make up for all the times I picked up this book with a sigh, forcing myself to plough through a bit more just so I could get it finished. I'll give it two stars; it probably deserves more, but I'm afraid this just wasn't for me.
October 19, 2014
Auf igendeine Art fühle ich mich mit A.L. Kennedy verbunden. Das kommt bestimmt daher, dass wir am gleichen Tag Geburtstag haben, denke ich mir. Ich bilde mir ein, dass, wenn ich Literatur schreiben würde, die Texte denselben Sound hätten wie ihre. Oder ist es einfach so, dass Kennedy so schreibt, dass sich JEDER Leser auf ganz persönliche Art mit ihr verbunden fühlt? Weil sie einfach ziemlich tief in die menschliche Seele schauen kann.
Egal, jedenfalls berührt mich Kennedys Stil, ich liebe diese Mischung aus Innerlichkeit, Poesie, Traurigkeit, ganz großartigen sprachlichen Bildern, die geradezu in die Magengrube gehen, und trockenem, schwarzem, selbstironischem Humor. Und ich mag, wie sie Erzählungen und auch diesen Roman aufbaut: Worum es eigentlich geht, das versteht man erst mit den letzten Zeilen, wenn sich alle fragmentierten Symbole und Bilder zusammenfügen und die Geschichte plötzlich eine ganz andere Dimension bekommt.
Ich verstehe allerdings auch, was Leser gegen "Das blaue Buch" einzuwenden haben. Kennedys Art zu erzählen wird hier schon zu einer gewissen Geduldsprobe. Viel innerer Monolog, viel verwinkelte Seelenschau ist da, die äußere Handlung bleibt vor lauter Subjektivität oft vernebelt, und Zeitsprünge machen es zusätzlich schwer, alles zu einem logischen Ganzen zusammenzufügen. In den Erzählungen muss der Leser naturgemäß nicht ganz so lange im Dunkeln tappen wie hier.
Man muss das mögen. Und ich mag es.
Egal, jedenfalls berührt mich Kennedys Stil, ich liebe diese Mischung aus Innerlichkeit, Poesie, Traurigkeit, ganz großartigen sprachlichen Bildern, die geradezu in die Magengrube gehen, und trockenem, schwarzem, selbstironischem Humor. Und ich mag, wie sie Erzählungen und auch diesen Roman aufbaut: Worum es eigentlich geht, das versteht man erst mit den letzten Zeilen, wenn sich alle fragmentierten Symbole und Bilder zusammenfügen und die Geschichte plötzlich eine ganz andere Dimension bekommt.
Ich verstehe allerdings auch, was Leser gegen "Das blaue Buch" einzuwenden haben. Kennedys Art zu erzählen wird hier schon zu einer gewissen Geduldsprobe. Viel innerer Monolog, viel verwinkelte Seelenschau ist da, die äußere Handlung bleibt vor lauter Subjektivität oft vernebelt, und Zeitsprünge machen es zusätzlich schwer, alles zu einem logischen Ganzen zusammenzufügen. In den Erzählungen muss der Leser naturgemäß nicht ganz so lange im Dunkeln tappen wie hier.
Man muss das mögen. Und ich mag es.
June 12, 2013
There where some parts in this book I really enjoyed, especially those parts where A.L. Kennedy speaks direktly to and about the reader. I love how she writes about those little anxieties everybody has, about love and growing up and all those feelings people might think are "unique" to them - but really, everyone else feels that way too.
I also liked it when the story acutally made some progress, which happend not as often as I'd have wished, for there where seemingly endless monologues of both the main characters to get through, where all they did was whingeing about their feelings - or they just described what they felt, page after page after page desriptions of how they felt in the past about someone and how they feel now and blah and blah and they could've just said: Miserable. I feel miserable. And thus they would have safed their inclinded reader a lot of boring stuff to sift through.
The writing was beautiful at some parts and downright boring at others and unfortunately the plot itself wasn't gripping enough to keep me entertained. I lost interest somewhere in the middle and found myself annoyed with every single person on that goddammed ship everytime I tried to read on. I'm awfully glad I've finished it now, so I can put it aside and off my bedside table and stop feeling guilty for not ending what I begun.
June 3, 2013
At the library with my kids, I saw this on the New Fiction shelves and had to have it, as I have a very high opinion of Kennedy. And this book won me over with its very first page -- an intimate address to the reader from the book itself (an address that is achingly beautiful when read again after reading the book through to the end.)
It is hard to write much about this book without spoiling anything. Untangling the relationships between and identifying the characters within is sometimes frustrating, but necessary, I believe. Because at least one of the characters is a sometimes con artist. Another is a child of a magician, which is a sort of con as well, isn't it? This book is about magic, real magic and cheap magic, the difference between conning and helping, between intimacy and deduction, guilt and self-flagellation.
It's A.L. Kennedy, so you know there will be darkness, loss, and alienation. This fore-knowledge will not prevent the pain from being staggering when it hits.
Ultimately, it is about our need to lay ourselves bare, for the worst of our shortcomings to be known, so that we can be forgiven.
So that we can be loved.
It is hard to write much about this book without spoiling anything. Untangling the relationships between and identifying the characters within is sometimes frustrating, but necessary, I believe. Because at least one of the characters is a sometimes con artist. Another is a child of a magician, which is a sort of con as well, isn't it? This book is about magic, real magic and cheap magic, the difference between conning and helping, between intimacy and deduction, guilt and self-flagellation.
It's A.L. Kennedy, so you know there will be darkness, loss, and alienation. This fore-knowledge will not prevent the pain from being staggering when it hits.
Ultimately, it is about our need to lay ourselves bare, for the worst of our shortcomings to be known, so that we can be forgiven.
So that we can be loved.
December 22, 2012
This book was seriously tedious. There was a thread of an interesting love story with a quirky interestingly damaged hero, a glimpse of potentially intriguing plot about mediumship in the modern day, but it was all bogged down in a lot of superfluous words and one too many "cool" literary devices (book within a book, use of the 2nd person "you", switching viewpoints, jumping around in time, stream of consciousness...you name it!). For a book about love, betrayal and talking to the dead it was really plodding! On a character level, the heroine for all her dramatic cursing and streaming of her tormented consciousness never becomes really real to us, and the boyfriend's stubborn petty obnoxiousness is sufficiently offputting that the heroine's choice -- between boring boorish "Mr. Wrong" and glamorous but tormented and tormenting "Mr. Right" -- isn't particularly suspenseful or interesting. As for the surprise ending, it's certainly moving, but not sufficiently tied to the bulk of the story to make the rest of the book emotionally interesting.
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