Book Review: A Clockwork Orange

"Brilliant and frustrating in equal measure"

There are many novels throughout history which demonstrate an authors incredible command of the English language. Take for example Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o or Vladimir Nabokov, here with have two authors who, whilst their mother tongue's are not necessarily English, have the ability to transcend this obstacle and turn this on its head. They have raised the bar for English prose making it hard for traditional English writers to surpass.
Anthony Burgess' 'A Clockwork Orange' meanwhile, isn't concerned with this. In fact, rather than let this be an obstacle, Burgess uses it as a springboard to catapult his novel to cult status. He has done what very few would even dream of executing, and that is to virtually create a new language.

And rather appropriately so, for the main protagonist of the novel is Alex, the 15 year old anti-hero whose main interests include classical music and ultra violence. The language which Burgess creates perfectly captures these adolescent years and convincingly highlights the divide between the teenage and adult generations.

That said, 'A Clockwork Orange' is not for the faint hearted. The opening scene describes Alex and his droogs (friends) searching the streets for something occupy themselves with. Upon noticing someone, they put on the charm offensive, and eventually attacking him. These scenes of violence and bloodshed are particularly vivid, if not short lived. Burgess' crude descriptions of these encounters serve to notify us of the heinous crimes they commit and the surreal circumstances in which the novel is set. 
Indeed it is one of his crimes which leads to his downfall whereby Alex is caught pilfering from a house, killing the occupant in the process. This leads Alex to be interrogated, rather harshly, by the police. During these moments, we begin to feel a slight ounce of pity for him due to his poor treatment, yet the overriding emotion is that he got his just deserts. 
He is then sentenced to the state prison where he is expected to serve time and it is during this period where his life is turned upside down. Alex is selected as a test subject for a revolutionary new technique, called the Ludovico's technique, whereby he was indoctrinated to learn that violence is bad through feelings of nausea and sickness.


It is here where the main themes of the novel lies - Ludovico's technique worked by removing the sufferer of choice, forcing them to learn that violence was bad in whatever situations it comes under. It made Alex a machine who was programmed to refuse acts of harm and even thoughts of it. Rendering him incapable of making his own choices. 
Part of the whole process of maturity is to learn from your mistakes. And whilst it may, at first, seem as if he was through the rigorous and intense techniques employed, one must remember that these learnings stem from the participants willingness to change. Alex wasn't planning to stop his criminal rampage. So he was essentially taught and forced to accept a new way of thinking, shattering the initial wirings of his brain, the ones which he had developed over the years, thus breaking the natural cycle of maturity.
To add further salt into the wounds, another source of enjoyment is also blocked - whenever Alex hears classical music, he begins to experience bouts of sickness, thus making him unable to enjoy and seek pleasure in his hobbies. Driving him to the brink of suicide, whereby Alex contemplates taking his life. Which brings about pathos and sympathy for him - Burgess paints an image that reveals the government to be inhumane. One where the government's ruthless methods encapsulates the state's need to control and coordinate people's behaviour at all costs.


Questions are asked on whether the end justifies the means; is a peaceful society really worth the negligence of humanity's precious attribute, choice? Is it correct to giving up a person's ability of free will so that a community can leave in comfort and safety? And is it right that we destroy an individual's sense of individuality for our own personal benefits?


No doubt that 'A Clockwork Orange'  is a deep, thought-provoking and revealing novel, asking some tough, uneasy and controversial questions in relation to our morals and ethics. Whether it is an immensely satisfying novel, is another matter. The main sticking point would be Burgess' implementation of a language which proves to be intensely hard to grasp in the early stages. This is due to the start being littered with it, meaning what little chance you had of understanding certain words are lost through incomprehensible sentences.
It seems as if every word, every sentence, every paragraph and every page is a constant struggle. And whilst this may work on the one hand; symbolising the persistent battle between the youth and the state. It doesn't work for the archetypal reader who seeks to read for enjoyment.
That said, there will be some who relish at the thought of a challenge and would happily spend hours on end trying to interpret the novel.Yet for those who don't have much time or patience, they may just give up the novel before reaching the climax. Which is a shame because towards the latter end of the novel, the language does let off to some extent and you are able to understand and watch the story unfold. 

3/5

Book Review: Perks of Being a Wallflower

"Be ready to strap yourselves in for Chobsky's roller-coaster ride of emotions"

Dealing with those awkward moments during our adolescence, Stephen Chbosky's debut novel does for teenagers, what Purple Hibiscus did for the shy, isolated and lonely demographic. It must be said that both novels share many similarities; they are each their respective authors' first work, the narrators are both teenagers and they share the themes of love, maturity and change.

That said though, Chobosky's work is entirely different from that of his contemporary. We follow Charlie, the narrator and freshman at his school. through a series of letters addressed to us. From the outset, we are given an inkling of Charlie's separation from his peers; detailing how we will listen and understand, whilst at the same time, not doing this only so that we can sleep with someone.
It is this sense of desperation to know that people like us exist which prompts us to acknowledge that there is a lot of mistrust and broken promises in Charlie's encounters with other people. We immediately pity him, and the very fact that he entrusts us with his deepest and most touching secrets helps add a personal dimension to the story, We hold a connection towards Charlie, we begin to form a close bond with him, and eventually we feel what he feels, we experience what he experiences and we want what he wants.

For instance, Charlie's one and only friend early in the novel commits suicide. Inevitably leaving Charlie down and distraught. He is a emotionally fraught teenager, and with news of this magnitude, one can only expect Charlie to go through a downward spiral of regret, hurt and depression. What bothers him the most though is the fact that he couldn't understand why Michael would do such a thing. The counselor has suggested that it may very well be to do with problems at home, but Charlie dismisses this for he 'could have talked to me'.

To add salt into the wounds, this incident wasn't the only one in which he has lost a loved one. Charlie recounts how his Aunt Helen, his 'favourite person in the whole wide world', passed away and blames himself for her death.
Moments such as these are when you feel like screaming into the book, telling Charlie that it isn't his fault and that he shouldn't make too much of it. Parallels can be drawn with a viewers reaction to a TV programme or a movie, revealing just why Chbosky's is both also a screen writer and film director.

The epistolary style was, initially and admittedly, rather grating at first because it proved to break up the flow of the novel. It made it hard to immerse yourself into the narrative, but given time, this feeling subsides allowing you to enjoy the novel. In fact, you begin to realise that far from being an hindrance, the epistolary style actually helps convey the story more realistically. Taking into account that Charlie is a wallflower; someone who listens, observes and understands, but doesn't standout, the style acts as a means of communication between him and the reader.

Upon reading further into the novel, we are confronted with the many trials and tribulations that he faces. When Charlie befriends Patrick and Samantha (Sam), he is educated on the intricacies of relationships. Whilst holding strong feelings for Sam, opening up to her with this, she let's him know clearly that he is too young for her.
Far from resulting in their relationship breaking down from this revelation, it indeed seems to have made it stronger due to the honest and straight-to-the-point approach.
As Charlie's friendship becomes stronger and stronger with Patrick and Sam, he is led into their inner circle of friends and is invited to various parties. It is at one of these events where he discovers Patrick 'fooling around' with the school's football player, Brad. Soon enough, Charlie understands what is happening and realises that some things must be kept a secret from the world as they are not ready to accept it just yet.

Along with attending parties, Charlie also watches them perform regular dramatisations of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. He becomes involved more and more in their lives and others too, helping Mary Elizabeth, the editor of a journal, write it. This leads him to become closer to her, and eventually, they go on their first date. It is at this point where Charlie is in utter bliss because he feels important - he is a part of people's lives and plays some value in them.
Although this moment doesn't last as Charlie struggles to keep his frustrations in check. He is in a one sided relationship with Mary Elizabeth who dominates the conversations and fails to value Charlie as a partner. Which inevitably leads to him looking for a way out of it.
However our hearts pour out for Charlie as he picks the worst moments to reveal his pent up anger and frustrations. During a game of truth or dare with his friends, Patrick challenges Charlie to kiss the prettiest girl in the room, to which Charlie chooses to snub Mary Elizabeth and instead opts for Sam. Needless to say, things erupt from there as Patrick suggests to Charlie that he should stay away for a while.

This makes Charlie alone, isolated and separated again. With no friends and hardly anyone to talk to, he reverts back to his previous self, struggling to cope and understand other people.

That is until he sees Patrick in need of help after being attacked by Brad and his football players. This incident instigates Charlie to instinctively jump to Patrick's aid, fending off his assailants and preventing any further harm from being done.
What happens from here on in is that Charlie is now able to endear himself to his friends again; is accepted to their circle and enjoy their company. Everybody forgives him now including Mary Elizabeth and Charlie realises that what matters most is not based on how important you are to others, but how important you are to yourself. He has learnt the value of self esteem and that, whilst his friends may not necessarily always be around with him, they will always be in his heart, in his thoughts and in his memories.

This is perhaps what Chbosky wants us to appreciate the most. That through maturity, through change, through this constant state of flux, the one thing that remains constant is the love that we hold and the love that others hold of us.
He doesn't hand it to us on a plate though, but instead spirits us away on the Charlie's journey through adolescence. Whilst at times it isn't easy for us; through the epistolary style breaking up the flow, to the simplistic language sounding repetitive - or Charlie; through the loneliness, the lack of love or the mistakes; one cannot doubt that these elements, these aspects only serve the purpose of creating the searing, intense, honest and raw emotions to which both we and Charlie experience.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower does what few novels are able to achieve - it provides a powerful tale, it illustrates the rough ride that is the teenage years, but most of all connects with the reader.

4/5

Book Review: A Week in December

"Faulks' latest effort will make you laugh, make you cry. It will make you gasp, make you sigh. It will frustrate, but will excite. In the end though, it will be a sheer delight."

Daring to be ambitious, Sebastian Faulk's novel attempts to deal with far reaching themes and issues which plagues society today, The very fact that Faulks have written previous novels such as 'The Girl at the Lion D'or', 'Birdsong' and 'Charlotte Gray', which were all set in France, reveals Faulks to be a bold author; not content with writing within himself, he traverses' across new pastures by removing himself from his comfort zone and setting this novel in contemporary London.
This decision alone should be applauded as it could potentially spell disaster if it were to go wrong. Thankfully though, it doesn't.

Opening with a rather modest beginning, Faulks delicately leads the reader into his novel, with an overview of London. He evokes images of London's famous football teams, Arsenal, West Ham and Chelsea; and the soon-to-be iconic Westfield shopping district. It seems inviting as we are immediately drawn into the novel through the relevant nature of it.
However it isn't the aesthetics which is of most interest, but the emotions and characters within them that is. In this opening chapter, we read a touching, short segment whereby the scene of a 'solitary woman' pays her respects to her deceased grandfather. Whilst  it may be a passing event in the novel, the incident belies its stay acting as a subtle indication of Faulks' ability to touch and move even the most coldest of hearts.

The novel charts the daily lives of various characters during a week in December: Gabriel Northwood, John Veals, Jenni Fortune, Vanessa Veals, R. Tranter, Hassan al-Rashid, Farooq Al-Rashid, Amanda Malpasse and 'Spike' Borowski.
Whilst treated separately, the stories of each of these characters, bar two, eventually converge together under one place, the fabled dinner table. This is handled by Sophie Topping, the wife of the recently elected MP, who is holding a big dinner for her husbands' political party.


It is at the dinner where the sparks fly, with Roger Malpasse, Amanda Malpasse's husband, verbally attacking John Veals, the hedge fund manager for the debt that they are running up. He exposes Veals, and other bankers as selfish, detached and morally incorrect individuals - announcing that "the little tossers will be the only ones who won't pay back a coin".
In truth, one can observe Roger Malpasse as acting as one of Faulks' mouthpieces in the novel. He challenges John Veals, and bankers in general for being irresponsible with their handling of money. Indeed, Veals himself acknowledges what we all thought to be true, by explaining that they do it because they are a 'bunch of cunts'.

Faulks does nothing to shatter this image too as Veals is described as a joyless character - it is extremely rare to see or read about him laughing. He is depicted as a man who has little interests that extend beyond the point of making money. He hardly partakes any hobbies, parties or holidays. Doesn't live an especially extravagant lifestyle, and most shockingly of all; regards his family as nothing more than objects. It almost seems as if he lives a life removed from his family, highlighted by the separate dialogues between him and his wife.

Hassan al-Rashid, is similar to this as he plays the role of a young adult, disillusioned with the Western world. The son of Farooq 'Knocker' al-Rashid, the founder of the pickle empire; Hassan struggles to find identity and joy during his teenage years. Like Veals, Hassan relationship with his family is fractured. He argues with his father over the possibility of a true Muslim state, whilst also shunning his mothers advances to rekindle their close relationship from long ago.
He yearns for belonging, which attracts him to an extremist group hell bent on wreaking havoc and destruction. This culminates in him playing an integral role in a terrorist act of titanic proportions. Whether this is carried out remains to be seen as Hassan goes through a rollercoaster ride of emotions, confiding in his close friend and 'non believer' Shahla.

It is these moments which really make the novel stand out. Hassan's discussions with Shala are both insightful and witty; probing the credibility of supposed Islamic states such as Saudi Arabia, and, in a repeat of his argument with his father, the tangibility of an true Islamic state ever existing.

At the opposite end of the spectrum is Gabriel Northwood. Here is a character who, unlike most of Faulks' other creations, does not conform to stereotypes. He may be a lawyer, but as Gabriel accurately describes himself, this doesn't automatically make him wealthy. In fact, he is struggling to make ends meet, barely being able to pay for a night out with his client, Jenni Fortune.
What Gabriel may lack in financial status, he more than makes up for in character. He is, perhaps, Faulks' favourite character, with most work being done on describing him. Gabriel is observant, intelligent and learned. He, like his client, and eventual girlfriend, have had troubles of the past. They have both had experienced relationships which have damaged them.

In Gabriel's case, it was with a married woman called Catalina, the wife of a diplomat. Having initially met through a charity dinner, and at Catalina's persistence, they kept in touched, and ended up in an affair. He reflects on their relationship as a moment of bliss, where he fell in love. He savoured every moment of her, and in his own words, 'made the evening worth living for, the day worth rising to greet'.
What she brought in was happiness in an otherwise downcast life. Yet, his love was bordering on obsession, which prompted Gabriel to tearfully break off his ties with her.

Without a doubt, Gabriel is the stand out character. We cannot help but root for him as he plays the role of the underdog. There is so much going for him; intelligence, charm, and a sense of humour; but as is the tragic case, he leads a pedestrian life. Believing that books are the key to understanding life; what he doesn't notice is that he fails to put the lessons learned and apply them in reality. Had he done so, then perhaps he would've led a happier lifestyle.
Perhaps what makes him most likeable is that the we can relate to him. Just like him, we have all had periods where we have had to let go of those people or things closest to us. We all have some form of untapped potential that is just waiting to be noticed by potential suitors,but as is the case, these opportunities ever rarely come round, and even rarer are they taken up.

Faulks may not bring anything new to the table, playing towards the usual preconceptions that bankers are filled with greed and terrorists are marginalised sections of society. Even the portrayal of Gabriel follows this path for he is ultimately limited to the image others have of him. As early as the beginning, he is termed to be melancholy by Sophie Topping. And as we all know too very well; first impressions count.

In addition to contemporary themes such as extremism, greed and loss, there are small inklings of class divide.
Judging from the the intertwined narratives of wealthy characters such as the Veals, the Malpasses, the al-Rashids, and contrast this with those of Gabriel Northwood, Jenni Fortune, we begin to see that they are each treated separately - with the upper classes taking up more reading space than the lower classes, perhaps postulating the belief that those better off are viewed as the more predominant members of society. In addition Faulks begins to subtly reveal another issue surrounding society today.
He goes as far as to reveal that the affluent treat those below with scorn, with the rule set as: 'a billion or bugger all'.

The novel suffers from being plagued by a large cast of characters. For instance we find ourselves following the narratives of characters such as Amanda Malpasse and Jenni Fortune. Yet unlike John Veals, Gabriel Northwood or Hassan al-Rashid, they are only described what is otherwise a fleeting moment. Faulks fails to develop these characters properly, with the most glaring error being found in Roger Malpasse, Faulk's voice-piece for the public. Meaning we fail to fully resonate with him during his speech towards the end of the novel where he exposes the greed of bankers, making what should be a major talking point into just a minor tone.

The pacing of the novel is also another let-down. An example would be Ralph Tranter, the book reviewer in the novel, whilst initially intriguing and interesting due to his hilarious put downs of other modern authors; one cannot help but feel whether his place at certain points are relevant. When the novel is concerned with the wider issues such as terrorism, and is reaching a pivotal part, Faulks suddenly veers off track to switch the narrative to Tranter. To be discussing serious problems at one moment, to then instantly change it to more comedic matters, serves to break the flow. Making it harder to enjoy, appreciate and absorb their stories resulting in there being greater difficulty to following the on-running themes throughout.

Yet such is the majesty of Faulks' writing, his ability to describe his characters, his skill in conveying a convincing and compelling storyline that all these faults are overshadowed and can be overlooked. It may not be as refreshing as hoped, but then again, how could it when we live in an age where we are fed news 24/7?

4/5