Thursday, 22 September 2011

Food Of Love - Anthony Capella

Published in Incorporating Writing, Issue 4 Vol 3, July 2007

Food of Love by Anthony Capella provides the reader with a raw taste of Italy. This novel celebrates Italian food as a way of life, with a culture that revolves around eating to show social status, style and knowledge. Capella travels extensively in Italy and this is evident through his writing - Food of Love is a clear and accessible reference which provides those who have not travelled to the country with an insightful and colourful illustration. This novel is also a warm and affectionate reminiscence for those who have experienced the country of Capella's subject.

This writing style enables the contrasts within the novel. References to food and to Italy are written with an enthralling, deeply authentic style with a use of Italian phrases, recipes and food based metaphors. This honest clarity is contrasted with Capella's characters where his writing is occasionally clumsy, plodding and unremarkable. In some ways this is very effective as is emphasises the main character, an American exchange student called Laura, in contrast to her new found environment. Laura's story unfolds as Tommaso enlists the help of his friend Bruno's culinary skills in order to win her heart.

As Laura is besotted with the food, and Tommaso, Bruno falls in love with her (completing the triangle), as his cooking communicates his passion. Laura's character becomes the most endearing - perhaps as she is from a culture more similar to ours or perhaps because Capella is aware of a predominantly female readership. This character is then maintained through the reader's empathy for her, caused by the passionate descriptions of the enchanting food. It is these emotive elements that make the reader more receptive to the novel as a whole.

The characters seem secondary in Capella's style to the food; a tool to illustrate his culinary descriptions. The reader is placed as an equal among the characters through the social nature of eating within the plot, the subjectivity of food and writing in the 3rd person. This is the success of the book - the reader is included in the action and seduced, echoing the characters.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly - Jean-Dominique Bauby

In essence, this novel is not primarily about its character, a medical condition or circumstance. 'The Diving Bell and the Butterfly' discusses divisions and constancy in existence, examining what experiences are integral to humanity.

Bauby's biographical account of Locked-In Syndrome is powerfully both reflective and reflexive. Describing his condition through a painstaking method of dictation, 'The Diving Bell and the Butterfly' is considered and measured, yet candidly responds to his condition through his use of language. His dictation (controlled by eye-blinks) shows dedication and intelligence in his sparkling, well referenced writing, a feat of patient-induced patience.

Bauby's humanity is evident through his writing style. Although his slow dictation removes humour and spark in his daily conversations, his character is abundant in his writing. This divide (and the gulf between his life before and after his illness) is amplified through his use of structure to contrast and compare experiences, emotions and reactions.

With a delicate, rhythmic style - snappy and poetic in turns - he outlines his existence and circumstances. This rhythm echoes Bauby's moods and refers to his memories to follow the passage of time and Bauby's ability. Slowing as his capability fades; the author begins to admit to a sense of sadness and finality.

Bauby finds his humanity through interaction - letters and visits anchor him and lead to his greatest concern being his investment in those people around him. The author shows a great tenderness for friends' co-operation, help and support; concluding that when all else is lost, emotion is a necessity. Bauby shows little bitterness towards his disability, he writes with warmth and thankfulness that through relationships he maintains his emotional ability.

Reality has become a shocking existence to both the author, those around him and eventually to the reader. Bauby makes us aware of our own existence through his narrative, describing a changing and evolving sense of self. Feeling that he 'belonged on a vegetable stall and not to the human race' (p.90), his thoughts and ideas are somehow abstracted from his physicality.

Bauby's relationship to reality is increasingly fragile.

Through dream like descriptions, Bauby suggests that reality is paired with sensation and he lacks this to root him to the world. His imagination is allowed to take over - consequentially his reality is not in the here and now. Bauby's imagination becomes a powerful tool in maintaining his quality of life, helping to overcome his isolation and loss of sensation.

Isolation here is not just bodily, but also in a lack of medical knowledge. Bauby's resulting dependence is almost childlike; exemplified by his increasing reliance on his imagination. His awareness of this makes the novel a success. The use of metaphors contrasts this unusual situation with a continuity of life, questioning the nature of humanity.

Through a compassionate translation from the French, Bauby's expressive details are able to combine in synergy - his dark humour and sincerity form a modest and open culmination. Although the author is clearly rooted in French culture his experiences are universally emotive. Bauby's writing is accessible and understandable, clearly communicating locked-in-syndrome through a beautifully crafted, skilful writing style.

Like Water for Chocolate - Laura Esquivel

Published in Incorporating Writing Issue 4 Vol. 4

'Like Water for Chocolate' is a compelling, fresh and honest love story by Laura Esquivel. The plot centres on Tita who as youngest daughter is bound by tradition to care for her mother. By increasingly challenging her family's traditional rules and expectations Tita finds her own identity. Tita is the domestic stereotype breaking free of her contextual constraints; the kitchen is her territory where she recreates the foods of her culture, taking ownership of them through recipes and creation.

Revolution is a main theme in this novel. Set during the Mexican Revolution, 'Like Water for Chocolate' is deeply rooted in this context, and epitomises Magic Realism in its Latin American culture and post modern enchantment to celebrate of the wonder of everyday life. 'Like Water for Chocolate' was translated to English in 1992 after its success in its original Spanish (published 1989). Both the novel and its subsequent film version achieved critical acclaim as Latin American culture began to thrive in English speaking countries. The success of Esquivel's writing is within her emphasis of both the deeply culturally bound, and the universal experiences such as food, love and passion. Tita and her contemporaries are rebellious, both in conjunction with the Mexican Revolution and on a more personal level.

A balance between revolution and tradition is evident through the characters of Dr. Brown and Morning Light; the rationalised scientist and the alternative healer, who teach and inspire each other. The awareness of internal and external existence illustrated by these characters is crucial to the novel. Tita's moods affect the tastes and experience of her menus in contrast to the food's restorative and nurturing effects. This reasoned approach to the mythical reflects the application of tradition in contemporary society and relationship between the characters and food within the plot ricochets between cause and effect. Food is deeply embedded with associations from memory, tradition, and culture.

Tita creates dishes which have unprecedented effects on those who eat them, her food creates a magic spell which heightens the senses and communicates in a deep and powerful way. Tita personifies the complex relationship between people, life and food, which is an awareness that seems to fluctuate in contemporary society as we battle with ideas about nutrition, diet and social aspects to nutrition.

Esquivel's writing is very tactile and luscious to illustrate how Tita's cooking intrinsically links food and emotion. Tita oscillates between love and passion, and a distinction between these two is never clearly defined. Rejecting John's gentle adoration for Pedro's forbidden excitement, is the all consuming passion that she finds true love? 'Like Water for Chocolate' refers to boiling water to make hot chocolate, which is also a well known phrase to suggest passion. These twin meanings indicate a heat, arousal and expectation concurrent to revolution. Food acts as a direct metaphor for passion - as an aphrodisiac, or simply within the physical pleasure of eating.

The plot revolves around Tita's recipes. Each chapter pivots around a traditional recipe (which is not necessarily for food), explaining method and relevance which helps the reader to empathise with the culture. The novel is structured around the months of the year and these instalments indicate change and continuation, but the contents are not confined to this timeframe. This structure reinforces the idea of knowledge circling and being handed down the generations and through this recurrence, making the novel more identifiable. These staccato bulletins create informality and punctuate the swollen, intense lyrical verses.

Focussing on recipes (in contrast to food) indicates domination and authorship. The ingredients listings signify Tita's choices and her attempts to control a situation that she feels powerless in, much like the way that Chencha's lies enable her manipulation of events. Each food is symbolic, and by breaking down a menu (and the novel) into component parts we are able to understand it better. These recipes therefore develop the novel through structure and imagery, reflecting Tita as being about her and by her, fleshing out the recipe book she writes within the story. The recipes also help to highlight stereotypes in this novel's characters, such as the emphasis of the clash of maternal traits between Nancha and Mama Elena.

Esquivel's 'Like Water for Chocolate' is a humorous, chaotic and celebratory novel which rejoices in an exploration of topics that it is fundamentally unable to define. It cleverly opens up a specific culture with accessible anchors, reminding us of the importance of honest pleasures as 'when the talk turns to eating, a subject of the greatest importance, only fools and sick men don't give it the attention it deserves'.

Unfreeze the P's - Bobby Baker

Published in Inside Out Magazine, Issue 1

Bobby Baker is a painter turned performance artist, making work which celebrates the everyday by emphasising the wonder of the ordinary to reveal and inspire. Baker's work reflects her own life experiences, often referring to her domesticity through using culinary props. Her work is very inclusive; it is understandable and relevant to any audience. This seems to be especially effective in 'How to Live', a culmination of experiment-based collaborative work with Professor Richard Hallam, a clinical psychologist at Queen Mary's Hospital.

Humour and instruction slowly reveal the basics of psychotherapy, as per her own unique interpretation. Through her light touch, she explores the principles of therapy in a straightforward and credible manner. The piece is an antidote to pop-psychology and the self-help boom, which Baker believes replace religion in contemporary society. Baker's style is borrowed from instructional videos and so the work is a parody aesthetically as well as within its content.

'How to Live' discusses Baker's own experiences of Dialectical Behaviour Therapy, a type of CBT. In this, you are initially taught life skills - Baker's piece teaches her patient (a frozen pea) a set of such skills to develop a 'life worth living'. These skills, and the work as a whole, are for those with mental health experiences of their own, those without direct knowledge, and frozen vegetables. This aims to help the audience procure a greater understanding of the therapy and perhaps enrich, or unfreeze, their lives a little.

The pea represents all the P.'s of psychology, and also Baker's perceived insignificance and isolation as a patient. The pea's therapy is a very warm, human one - personifying him and suggesting that patients are dehumanised. This could be due to the type of therapy or that the patient - through illness, lack of knowledge or pop-psychology media hype - can feel distant to their treatment.

Baker found that therapy made her more aware of herself and her surroundings, the imagery that she was already using and that which was consequently developing. She aims to encourage this understanding in her audience, believing that through presenting her own experiences she encourages others to follow. Ideas and memories can then produce new associations and thought patterns within this artistic context.

'How to Live' shows how psychotherapy can turn a period of difficulty and distress into a positive and enriching experience. It makes psychology more accessible as this science becomes increasingly prevalent in society. It supports the medical profession (Baker has been involved with initiatives such as the launch of the Mental Health Helplines Partnership).

Bobby Baker's new project, 'A Model Family', is concerned with psychological issues in the family, drawing on Baker's own experiences to consider aspects of mental health care and attitudes to people who are mentally ill. This piece is in development as part of Bakers' AHRC Creative Fellowship at Queen Mary University of London, where it previewed in May, with the final piece's production planned for 2009. Baker's work can be explored in more detail at www.bobbybakersdailylife.com

Company of Liars - Karen Maitland

For Dreamcatcher Magazine, Autumn 2008

Karen Maitland's historical thriller, Company of Liars, discusses the boundary between fact and fiction; immersing historical fragments in a contemporary filmic thriller - reminiscent of The Canterbury Tales, through to The Hounds of the Baskervilles and Final Destination.

The novel follows the journey of a group of outcasts through Mediaeval plague ridden Britain. With new members of the collective joining through the journey, each is united in their need for support and to escape the plague; yet each character carries their own secrets and is running from their own pasts, fears and pursuers. These pursuers quickly become characterised as a 'wolf'; as a hunter, a debt collector from the church, through to a mythical symbol of individuals' deepest anxieties.

The characters create distance, both metaphorical and actual. As outcasts, the characters have a chosen, and been forced to be distanced from society. The evolution of their group creates safety, yet one that is still internally fragile. The pace is controlled by a drive for distance, anonymity and safety - as the 'wolf' gains on the company the narrative quickens, ebbing back to a resigned fatefulness as Camelot returns home. The ebb and flow of the narrative (which encircles Camelot), echoes the sense of separation and yet also stalks the main protagonist in a playful manner, hinting at Narigorm's childlike impact on the unfurling events. Whereas Camelot acts as narrator at times, Narigorm's omniscience suggests that she represents fate, and so she dictates the narrative. With suggestive control over the other characters, she questions the roles of fate and choice - in parallel with the overriding theme of the novel - the line between myth and reality.

The Mediaeval charm is ruthless in its detail, yet the resulting pace and tone is sometimes disrupted by the distinctly modern structure. This disruption is successful; it reminds the reader to question beliefs to redefine fact and fiction, opening up the narrative to reflect contemporary and (somewhat regrettably) universal themes. The gulf between belief and what is proven, worries about outsiders and continual flux in culturally specific morality are as relevant now as in the Middle Ages. This acts to immerse the reader further into the plot - our understanding of the novel is fractured between historical accuracy and mythical fiction which develops a tension where fact is questionable and surprising and myth to be expected. Company of Liars eloquently immerses the reader in a world full of myth and superstition and keeps on the edge between belief and cynicism, suspending expectations.

As the novel queries fear and explores myth, it questions if our imaginings are worse than the reality of humanity. Superstition makes belief easier and humanity quantifiable. Company of Liars emphasises the universality of fears (contradicting successfully as it is deeply contextually bound), the novel is relevant and highly readable.

Ashes of the Amazon - Milton Hatoum

Published in Incorporating Writing, January 2009

At times, Ashes of the Amazon soars in scope, style and storytelling but on occasion Milton Hatoum's new work also leaves you feeling a little short changed.

The novel has the elegant lyricism found in novels skilfully translated from their Brazilian roots, and with this is a robust humour and a light-filled, honeyed hue. The author's occasional uses of cliched literary devices are a stark contrast to this background; puncturing the well paced and engrossing plot.

Ashes of the Amazon establishes itself quickly with a rapid merging between characters. Dreamlike and fleeting, the reader is introduced to the interconnecting protagonists with a simplified differentiation of good and bad. This gushing narrative quickly relaxes into an anecdotal tone that permeates the novel.

As we become more aware of the characters the long time scale of the book is unveiled, and with it the impact of its narrator, Lavo, on the speed and tone of the novel. As Lavo grows up through the course of Ashes of the Amazon, he becomes increasingly prominent within the narrative; with increasing consequence within the plot as he learns more about the characters and becomes more worldly. Although, in one sense, this could be considered a coming of age novel for its narrator, Lavo's friend Mundo is the real protagonist. This is the story of his artistic rebellion, and the mysteries surrounding his family.

Set in the city of Manaus, we watch as the city shifts with a new generation that moves away from the tradition (prized by their parents) to become a shifting, urban landscape. Manaus' residents are from old families, constant in the area and making up a very tight-knit community that is almost incestuous. Mundo's father, Jano, has established himself and his Jute plantation (Vila Amazonia) in the community and is betrayed by his son's wish not to join in the family business. This is a time of societal and cultural shifts, with the forest giving way to the city and the old families being dispersed.

Despite the novel being set in a city, the tight and inherited community is intimate, somewhat claustrophobic and increasingly irrelevant to the new generation. This intimacy often exaggerates an isolation of the characters, exaggerating relationships. Ashes of the Amazon maps the scope of emotion; violence saturates Mundo's adolescence and each character exhibits different forms of love that are original and unique, yet the novel carefully sketches the universality of basic emotional needs.

The scope of the novel opens up with Mundo's travels to Europe, which shifts Ashes of the Amazon to a very different, contextually defined landscape much more relevant to a readership outside of the South Americas. As Vila Amazonia and Jano's mansion are lost, and with them their history and culture, Manaus becomes much more consistent with a contemporary idea of a 'city', commenting comprehensively upon Globalisation and the loss of habitat often associated with it. The developing landscape provides a parallel timescale to the characters, adding depth to the understanding of pace within the novel and to the characters relevance to their surroundings and their family history.

Commercialism, synonymous with globalisation, affects Mundo deeply; the tension between business and making art, in parallel to Aranas' (Mundo's mentor) move from art to selling furniture, fuels his rebellion and underpins his splurging of his inheritance from the estate. As destruction breeds creation, it is necessary for Mundo to leave the old family traditions behind, and for Jano's richly decorated, art laden mansion to be cleared to make way for the new.

Ashes of the Amazon is a novel of smoke and mirrors; it is layered with facade, and with symbolic burning (with the burning of art and burning passions). As the characters' passions and preoccupations cool towards the end of the novel, so too does our empathy for the narrator.

This novel could have wisely and tenderly imparted a contemporary and neatly contextualised moral debate if more finely structured. Instead, the starry-eyed eloquence in some sections of the narrative descended into a cheap thrill as Hatoum lost confidence and favoured a tacky and immature resolution to the novel. A disappointing end to a promising and intriguing novel.

On Chesil Beach - Ian McEwan

Published in Incorporating Writing, Issue 5 Vol 2, April 2008

An intricately crafted tale of tension and morality; Ian McEwan's new work On Chesil Beach is a beautiful and eloquent achievement. This is a book to devour, re-read and ponder - densely packed with insight and accessible reflections of relationships and intimacy.

The novella follows the relationship between Edward and Florence. We first encounter the couple on their wedding night - the pivotal point of their relationship. The tension of this scene is born of the early 1960's, of each individual finding their place in both this changing society and their relationship. In their honeymoon suite, Edward and Florence negotiate consummating their marriage - a long awaited moment for Edward whilst a nightmarish scenario for his new bride.

The couple are deeply in love, yet the expectations of their first sexual encounter show the intricate interplay between sex and love, and the implications for the couple. As their relationship (and the readers' understanding of the pair) delves beyond their newly-wed ideal we discover their characters afresh and further understand the facades in action. What isn't said is far more important here than what is. These pretences and conformities, whilst most often of the little white lie variety, open up a gulf between the characters and become a separate entity in the relationship. McEwan unfolds each protagonist delicately, encouraging revisits to On Chesil Beach to unveil further motivations and meanings.
Flitting between crisp reporting and woozy nostalgia, McEwan creates empathy for both protagonists in his enticing use of tone and pace. The sense of tension is ruthless, ebbing in and out to its crescendo. The structure and pace of On Chesil Beach is fluid and musical, its echo found in Florence, an aspiring musician. As she becomes more self-assured, the pace quickens and even in her eventual absence she dominates the tone. Edward, in contrast, is an historian, thinking factually, and this is clear through his responsive, analytical narrative. The (almost fated) deep attraction between Edward and Florence is explored through his studies. The recurring activities and consequences of humanity and the inevitability of change are both universally and personally understood; rights of passage are socially and historically enforced. As Florence reflects, stood on the shore, the wedding night is 'a minor theme in a larger pattern', both for the characters and as a critique of human relationships in general. Perhaps stereotypical to gender, these aspects of each protagonist complement each other and succinctly develop each character. On Chesil Beach may not be so successful were it more lengthy. It is McEwan's commanding insight and the resulting intensity which give the novella its power.

Twin standards plague this relationship. Florence has been brought up straddling tradition and revolution (i.e. her father's driving lessons encouraging her independence) yet she is trapped by her refined loneliness. The English stiff upper lip and the expectations and implications of marriage cage the couple; Florence craves the freedom to explore their own interpretation of marriage. Both characters are deeply lonely, but they are lonely together. Unable to talk about her emotions even with Edward, her most intimate confidante, Florence's character explores the contrasts between sex, love and intimacy both as a reflection on past values and a critique of modern morality. As a reflection of Florence's blossoming individuality, Edward's mother thwarts explanation and preconceptions; dominating the narrative through her absence (like Florence by the end of the novel). The pretences, secrets and lies are symbolised within this character, an exaggeration (or matured glimpse) of Florence - despite the clear and nagging contrast between the two families. This is a fresh and almost comical Freudian reference (that men look for their mother when picking a wife). Edward's mother is a surprising addition by McEwan, she is a crisp and distinct breeze in an otherwise very stereotyped, intertwined and almost fragile narrative.

At worst, sex is used by authors as a gimmicky sales pitch. On Chesil Beach, however, uses it as realistically as possible - it is crude, loving, vital and minor in turns. Both in symbolic and representative ways, McEwan has achieved a narrative built around (but not exclusive to) sex: as an indicator of real humanity.