What a
strange couple of months. I read 10 books in June. In July I read 2, and I’ve
only read 2 again so far in August. Somebody it seems has stolen my reading
mojo. I plan to steal it back though pretty soon – I’ll have little choice; I
move into my new house in a few days but my internet and Sky television and in
fact most of my furniture will all be a week or so behind me. I figure that if
all I have in my (shiny new) house for a while is my bed and my Kindle then I’ll
have plenty of time to catch up on
some reading and consequently some blogging.
For now
though I really want to talk about
Michel Faber’s The Book of Strange New
Things because oh my goodness did I love that book. SO MUCH AMAZING YOU
GUYS. I’ve wanted to read it since it’s hardback publication, but I didn’t
because well, we all know I have this thing about hardback books especially the
larger ones like this one. I could have got it on the Kindle I know, but I didn’t
and I don’t know why other than sometimes I just kind of have this instinct to have
an actual physical copy of something in my hands. Sometimes I just feel way
ahead of time that an ebook just won’t cut it. So, I waited like the patient
girl I am (and stop laughing right now because ‘patient’ is totally an accurate
description of me, thanks very much) for the paperback publication.
And then I
fell in love.
This is the
kind of book that makes you feel things. All the things. It’s the kind of book
that gets under your skin and gets you right in the gut and you’re just aware
the whole time you’re reading it that you’re reading something amazing and then you finish it, and you
kind of don’t know what that is. Does that make sense? Like, I finished this
book and was totally and utterly bowled over but not I’m here and I’m trying to
explain why. And I kind of don’t know how.
Faber is an
extraordinary writer, or rather his writing in The Book of Strange New Things feels to me to be extraordinary; I haven’t
actually read his other stuff. Yet. This book makes me want to, so badly. His
use of language is so stunning it makes me want to cry a little (seduce me with
pretty words), the imagery is beautiful, the characterisation breathtaking, the
whole thing just out-of-this-world kind of good. AND THAT IS NOT EVEN A PUN.
Buy why
Josephine, I hear you ask; don’t just tell us it’s fabulous, tell us why.
ALRIGHT
THEN.
Well. I
loved the whole premise of this and what Faber did with it. Looooved it. This book was (is) an incredible exploration of religion, one that I think would appeal
to you whatever your beliefs – I recommend this book to you whether you’re a
firm believer in any kind of higher power or whether you’re an atheist. I do. I
just want you to read it, whoever you are. Go forth. The way Peter goes about teaching the inhabitants
of this planet about God and Jesus – they’re so receptive and so hungry for
knowledge that it’s almost too easy - juxtaposed alongside his wife, left
behind at home with nothing but her own faith to guide her and struggling, is
so damn clever. So clever and so
moving and so good.
It’s a book
a refreshingly flawed protagonist - and I won’t lie here, there were at times I
wanted to get hold of Peter and shake him
oh my goodness - and also it’s a really clever take on the whole sci-fi thing. Science
fiction is a thing here, obviously, and it’s a big thing because let’s be real the
very premise of this book is a dude trying to spread the word of God to aliens, but it’s not the thing, you know? This isn’t a book
about aliens or about space travel or any of that stuff, not really. It’s not a
book you should shy away from because ‘science fiction is not your thing.’ It’s
a book about human nature, about morality and faith and relationships and love
with an ending that will make your heart stutter in your chest.
The ending.
Oh my goodness the ending. I had a
conversation with Jen whilst walking along Regent’s Canal with a latte when I was
about halfway through this book, and that coloured I think, the way I looked at
certain elements of the whole thing, specifically Peter’s relationship with his
wife Bea who has been left behind on earth but you know, I think the ending of
this book would have gotten me in the same way regardless. It hit me like a
sucker punch, a beautiful beautiful sucker punch.
I believed in
this book. I did. And it’s set on another
planet. This guy is telling bible stories to a species without faces who speak a language he can’t even begin to comprehend
and I believed in it. Every word. I can’t stop thinking about it. I want to
shove it in the face of everyone I know and say READ THIS DAMN THING WILL YOU
and if that doesn’t tell you something, well, I’m afraid I don’t know what else
to do.
It is, quite simply, The Book of
Strange New Things.
