Edward Trencom’s Nose : A Novel of History, Dark Intrigue and Cheese
Giles Milton
392 p.

Pan Macmillan, 2007

Back cover blurb:

Edward Trencom has bumbled through life, relying on his trusted nose to turn the family cheese shop into the most celebrated fromagerie in England. But his world is turned upside down when he stumbles across a crate of family papers. To his horror, Edward discovers that nine previous generations of this family have come to stickly ends because of their noses.

When he investigates further, Edward finds himself caught up in a Byzantine riddle to which there is no obvious answer.

This back cover blurb LIES. I always get as upset when what is said on the back of the book isn’t what is said inside the book. Edward’s cheese shop has been on top of the cheese shops since the 17th century. And his world is turned upside down well before he stumbles over the family papers. When I reread this blurb now, I feel angry for being lied to. It is a bad thing, of course; all they want to do is sell books! And all I want is truth. I have a bit of a problem categorizing this book, but since there are extracts set in the 17th, 18th and 19th century I placed it under Historical as well as Humour. Though, admittedly, it wasn’t that funny. It was mildly amusing at times, but it wasn’t a laugh-party. And seeing as the Guardian claims it was a comic novel, I felt very disappointed.

I can really not make up my mind about this book. It is well-written, that much is true, if maybe at times a bit over-the-top. The end was completely non-understandable until you read the first five pages again. Milton had done one of those put-in-the-end-at-the-start-to-heighten-excitement. However, this just led to me thinking that Edward Trencom and his wife had been on a ski-trip to the Alps. And he hadn’t! HE WAS IN GREECE. THERE ARE NO ALPS IN GREECE. Or, there might be, but Edward doesn’t go to them. The story of nine of his ancestors are told, and I got so confused as to who is who that I had to stop and think about it for a long, long time. At the end there was a Hubert appearing, and you were supposed to know who he was. It took three pages before I figured out that it was a Hubert that HAD appeared earlier, but fleetingly. The characters and their names were a bit of a mess.

I didn’t really like Edward Trencom. And I didn’t think he was that believable, either. There was something about him - certainly not his nose, which really sounded quite pretty - that just didn’t resonate with me. There were also a number of sex scenes that were just really weird. I don’t care about how a middle-aged 1960s couple gets it on! I just don’t! I can do without. This makes me sound like I dislike sex scenes overall; that’s not the case. The case is that I want some sort of logic in it. Somehow, at least, it should be relevant to the story in hand. And how Edward Trencom has sex with his wife against a wall doesn’t feel as though it brings the story forward. And now that I think about it, I don’t think I really liked any characters. I liked the lawyer’s receptionist, but she was only in it for three pages. Which was a pity, I think.

It wasn’t a really easy book to read, given all the weird cheeses, characters and (I assume) witticism. Sometimes they were witty, sometimes they were… not. I don’t know what Milton’s goal was, really. Did he want to write about cheese, the Byzantine or something completely different? Everything was too fleeting to get a proper grasp on. The best part of this novel was when Byron was in it for a chapter. Lord Byron is the quite the hero and can save a lot of things. Unfortunately, he couldn’t really save this book.

ps. Happy New Year, the one person reading this thing!

Gods Behaving Badly
Marie Phillips
277 p.

Jonathan Cape,
Random House, 2007

Back cover blurb:

Being immortal isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Life’s hard for a Greek god in the 21st century: nobody believes in you anymore, even your own family doesn’t respect you, and you’re stuck in a dilapidated hovel in North London with too many siblings and not enough hot water. But for Artemis (goddess of hunting, professional dog walker), Aphrodite (goddess of beauty, telephone sex operator) and Apollo (god of the sun, TV psychic) there’s no way out… Until a meek cleaner and her would-be boyfriend come into their lives, and turn the world literally upside down.

I think that in order to really like a book, the cover has to be nice. If a book has an ugly cover, it is likely that I would be put off. If it is really abysmal, I might not even give it a try. Here, Gods Behaving Badly won my heart. I love the cover. It is so creative and happy and it has so few colours and is still really effective. It is, in short, really nice. This is one of my sister’s books, and I sometimes stay clear of them, seeing as they belong to her. I would’ve left this book alone if it hadn’t been so extremely pretty. And the story reflects the cover.

It isn’t a too complicated story. It’s enjoyable but not the best thing I have ever read. The language was easy and flowed nicely. It was funny. Doctor Who was mentioned, which is an automatic plus. I am not very good at Greek mythology, and sometimes I got mixed up as to who was who. Thankfully, knowing exactly who was who wasn’t the most important thing. As long as I kept track on that Apollo had to do with the sun, it was fine. In a way it reminded me of Jasper Fforde’s later books - new takes on old characters. It wasn’t really done with the same vigour or elegance. Still, it was a good read.

The Necropolis Railway
Andrew Martin
231 p.

Faber & Faber, 2002

Back cover blurb:

When railwayman Jim Stringer moves to the garish and tawdry London of 1903, he finds his duties are confined to a mysterious graveyard line. Perplexingly, the men he works alongside have formed and instant loathing for him. And his predecessor has disappeared under suspicious circumstances. Can Jim work out what is going on before he too is travelling on a one-way coffin ticket aboard the Necropolis Railway?

Admittedly, I am not that good at crime literature. I have only read a handful of crime stories, despite having seen several dozens of TV-shows involving murder and the solving of thus. I have read one Christie and maybe a few other similar books. It is not a genre I am extremely well-acquainted with. So, that said, it is obvious I didn’t choose to read this book because of the murder itself. And I think that is good, because the murders are not very prominent. There are several murders, and they are discussed a bit, but I was never really that concentrated when it came to the murders themselves. I didn’t really care who’d dunnit, as you can say.

This book is set in the beginning of the 20th century, which is a period I find very interesting, and this book has really brought out the atmosphere of the time. When reading it, I could almost feel the grime and dirt from the London streets: it was captivating. The main character is likeable and was believable as well. I never went “you can’t figure that out like that!”, which is something I oft do when watching, say, Midsomer Murders (I do, however, have utmost faith in Tom Barnaby as well).  The language of the novel captivated and pulled me in. I can’t say that the plot was the best thing with this book, but it was presented in such a way that I was intrigued. The murder mystery is parallell with Jim’s growing attraction to his landlady. Of course, I got an impression that he was attracted to every other characer in this book, but then again, I am a pervert. Everything is rounded off with descriptions of trains, how trains work, how trains of move, how it is working with trains, &c. If I had understood what they wanted to say with these descriptions, I would be able to drive a train no problem. Unfortunately, I didn’t. But at least I know now that The Railway Magazine is sixpence a month.

Händelser vid vatten
Kerstin Ekman
467 p.

Bonnier Pocket, 2000
(first published 1993)

Back cover blurb:

I början av sjuttiotalet är Svartvattnet en tynande norrländsk by bland många andra. Då händer något. Ett dubbelmord långt ute i väglöst land.
Det går arton år innan någon börja ana sanningen om det som skett. Och då blir det lika farligt igen därute i myrlandet. Händelsen har blivit en mörk kraft med verkan in i många människors liv. Det är dessa människor Kerstin Ekmans roman handlar om, deras försök att rädda minne och sammanhang fast de bor i den skugga av glömska som ligger över landsbygdens byar och små samhällen.
Men i lika hög grad är det en roman om ett landskap. Människan har farit illa fram med det. När de stora skogsbolagen drar sig tillbaka är det alltid förändrat av hyggen, vägnät och grustäkter. Kvar är de namnlösa platserna i starrens rike, gungande våta tuvor och sorlande vatten under marken. Vattnet viskar och jämrar, isande klart eller sugande svart. I sommarens bleka nattljus tycks händelser och platser sväva och vandra, lika svårgripbara och tvetydiga som människors minnen och handlingar.

If I had been given a free choice, I would not have read this book. The back cover blurb shows what an incredibly pretentious book this is. It has its good sides, of course, but I can’t say I really enjoyed it. Its language was hopelessly complex, seemingly only because it can be complicated. It belongs to a kind of books I dislike: the pretentious, self-content kind. These books give out philosophical questions as often as they describe how an older woman rapes a sixteen-year-old boy. There is a lot of sex in this book, and it is seldom I have read any sex-scene I have been so disgusted with. Ekman’s language may be beautiful, but it is too coarse and chopped to please me. Sometimes it is difficult to discern what it is about, all due to the language.

In fact, it is difficult to know what happens, full stop. Ekman claims the story is about a murder, but the murder is ignored for fifty pages atime, and when it is discussed, it is far from satisfactory. The characters are sometimes lost, sometimes found. Towards the end of the novel, some of the characters I would have thought were main characters are completely forgotten and we don’t get to know what happens to them, or why this happens. One of the characters, a man called Dan, is in the second half of the book constantly referred to as a bastard who did something horrible, but when it comes down to it, we never get to know what it is he has done. And seeing as he is one of the most important characters of the first half of the book, I think Ekman owes us an explanation.

At places, this book is lovely and it is a joy to read, but for the most of the time, it’s a drudge to read. If I hadn’t read it for school, I might even have put it down. If I hadn’t chosen this book (before I realised what kind of a book it was) for an extremely important individual oral presentation, I would have skimmed the pages instead of paying attention. That way, I wouyld have gotten rid of the misery quicker. Now, I didn’t, and now I know too much.