Seascraper - Benjamin Wood

I selected Seascraper as the first of the nominees from this year's list of nominees to read, as I liked the marine sound of the title. Later I found out it was more inclined towards novella length, and in fact double checked to see if the audio book version I listened to ended half way. No, no trouble there, but it was the ending which was rather open ended.

This was a quiet read, with solitude mainly that of our protagonist, Thomas Flett, a "shanker" who makes ends meet for his rather young mother, and himself, being the main companion of the reader. At just 20, Thomas, has already given up on finding a more meaningful life for him, and clearly lacks the courage to confront his rather selfish and complaining mum about dreams of his life. Then as chance should have it, a film producer visits the desolated beach side, and finds the scene ideal for a movie he has in mind to produce, where he meets Thomas. The novella then moves on to elaborate on the difficulty one finds in materialising one's dreams - be that of Flett's dream of being a folk singer, or Edgar Acheson's dreams of producing a movie out of a book he has read. We find the demons that Edgar has fought all his life, and how in possibly his last attempt at success he may have inspired a boy just sufficiently to chase his dreams, irrespective of the odds.

The novella is thin in plot, but oozes of the environment that it is fixed in. The cold sea breeze, the stench that Tom so wants to rid, the sand - but is his fate, the bleakness that the whole setting brings, makes the reader feel that she is isolated in a rather barren place, where life hardly moves, and when it moves, only through the cyclic pattern which offers no hope for a change. The success of this novel is in how Benjamin has managed to encapsulate this bleakness, cocooned in a short trip that will stay in the readers mind for quite some time. 

Rating: ****
Long Listed for the Booker - 2025 ( with the short list yet to be announced)

Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution - R.F. Kuang

The name of R.F. Kuang has been floating  in whatever small literature circles that I happen to find myself in. So much so, I found that I have purchased a copy of 'Yellow Face', more out of influence, and as buying books that 'you may find yourself wanting to read one day' is one of the pitfalls a reader is expected to thrive in. Next thing I know, I get a chance to indulge in an audio book of Babel, and I go 'why not?', as the new music coming through in 2025, so far has been quite boring, and I like to not waste my driving time. OK, enough beating about...


In no time I found myself loving "Babel". But the first symptom of there being more than obvious to one's eye (other than the death of Robin's mother, of course - which one may concede to  many reasons), is the way the beating that Robin receives from Prof. Lovell is described.

"He seemed simply, with every hard and deliberate blow, to be attempting to inflict maximum pain with the minimum risk of permanent injury. ... he only dealt bruises that could be easily hidden and that, in time, would heal completely."

 And before long, with the advent of the Hermes society, and their visit to Canton later, it became evident  to me, that the book was both interesting to read - and at the same time, troubling. Why troubling ? Initially I needed time to quietly interpret what was troubling me. In fact I shared my mind frame with the reader who read this book at the same time. Then it came to me. It portrayed the racist side of colonialism in a way that would have the readership of this book, divided. I am in no way claiming that there was no inherent racism in the act of colonialism. Hell - just 20-30 years back there was more racism than now in communities within the same country, and the country that I live in is no exception. But this book portrays racism in such a manner, I found myself feeling uncomfortable, and in a manner that divides the world, east vs. west, colonizer vs. conquered - it is this troubling feeling that kept me from writing a review of this book for almost a month. Today, having some time on my hands, I wanted to see what the rest of the world said about this book. And I found that that the division that I felt would be apparent - is, well, apparent! No need to look far. Just read the reviews of good reads, among the native speakers of English, and those who aren't. Although the book has a rating of 4.2 on average, majority of the native English speakers find the book troubling, and at least one has used the term 'trauma porn' to identify the trauma that is caused to those who share the identity. I tend to share the same sentiments. Letty or Leticia is a case point. The gap in understanding between Letty and the other three main characters is portrayed in such a manner that no bridge can ever join them. Yet, Letty was supposedly in love with Rami.

I have no explanation or solution to the troubling stance that this book left me in. I don't even claim that the author has exaggerated the nature of the divide, especially given the times in consideration. But I do think that there is at least an iota of contempt for from where this major work of fiction originated. So while granting, that this is indeed a very good work fantasized fiction, with much home truths, it leaves me troubled. The optimist in me  who everyday dreams of things becoming better for all in this world felt rather uncomfortable as the book delivers a wedge, if one dwells upon can only fester.

Rating: ****