Yellow Dogs and Black Swans

I like Martin Amis (London Fields is one of my favorites) but, to be honest, have always found reading his books to be a bit of a chore.

I have come to expect a challenging and mostly unpleasant read from Amis, but his latest, Yellow Dog, really crossed the line for me. Reading it, I got a constant sense of him, as an author, sneering 'I dare you to spend time with these characters, and figure out what the hell is going on." There's a rogues gallery of sinister, depraved characters ranging from tabloid journalists, pornographers, hit men, and vengeful ex-wives, in a hopelessly convoluted third rate gangster plot. Imagine watching Snatch or Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels on shuffle. There's a few borderline sympathetic characters too, but Amis seems to have nothing but contempt for them. Maybe I'm becoming a bit of a softy in my old age, but it's nice to have a little bit of compassion and humanity sometimes.

That said, you can't deny that Amis has an incredible way with words. He has a great eye for the simplest things. For example:

"Xan was too old for fashion, for cuts and styles; but his trousers, now, were alternately flared and drainpiped by the wind."

That's the kind of thing I look for when I read Amis. But why does he have to be so pretentious and nasty?

In the meantime, I'm about halfway through Black Swan Green by David Mitchell, which is the perfect antidote to Yellow Dog. I originally bought for my Dad for Christmas, who lent it to my sister, who in turn lent it to me.

Mitchell is an incredible author - I've read #9 Dream and Cloud Atlas and loved them both. Cloud Atlas in particular, was a great read, weaving together six seemingly unrelated stories (and writing styles) into one novel. It sounds pretentious, but Mitchell managed to pull it off effortlessly, while at the same time, making you care deeply about the characters.

Black Swan Green is a much more straightforward story told from the point-of-view of a thirteen year old boy growing up in England in 1982. I was fourteen in 1982, so, in many ways, I guess I can really relate to this story. I loved the references to playing Millenium Falcon on a swivelling chair and listening to Roxy Music LPs. Mitchell really captures the essence of what its like to be boy at that awkward age - that sudden awareness of what's going on around you and the helplessness of knowing that you can't always control it. Mitchell is great at giving the reader clues about what is going on in the boys surroundings (his parent's marriage in particular), even if the boy himself is oblivious. You find yourself really caring about this character - really wanting him to make the right decisions and to be a good kid.