Showing posts with label Mark Haddon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Haddon. Show all posts

Friday, August 16, 2024

The curious incident of the author who couldn’t read or write / Mark Haddon on long Covid and overcoming five years of brain fog

 


‘The words would swim’ … Mark Haddon. Photograph: Joel Redman

The curious incident of the author who couldn’t read or write: Mark Haddon on long Covid and overcoming five years of brain fog


A heart bypass in 2019 followed by a Covid infection left the novelist unable to read a book, let alone write one. Five years on, he recalls the steps that have helped him back on the right path

Mark Haddon
Friday 16 August 2024


It has been a peculiar and exasperating five years. I’m a writer. I do other things but writing feels like my main reason for being on the planet. Thanks to a triple heart bypass, some underperforming psychiatric medication and long Covid, however, I’ve been unable to write for most of that period. Much of the time it’s been impossible to read as well.

A book that changed me / How a feminist anthology taught me that outsiders can pull together

 

Mark Haddon


A book 

that changed

 me 


How a feminist anthology taught me that outsiders can pull together

This article is more than 9 years old
Mark Haddon
Thursday 20 July 2015

I grew up on a diet of Carry On films, Benny Hill and my parents’ Daily Telegraph. The Spare Rib Reader helped me articulate an unease that I had felt for as long as I could remember

Friday, November 4, 2022

10 of the Best Novels and Short Stories about Dogs

Picasso


10 of the Best Novels and Short Stories about Dogs

Novelists and short-story writers have created some classic narratives about man’s best friend, the dog. But what are the very best stories and novels about dogs? Where should we begin in assessing the classic, canonical literature that features dogs?

From Homer’s Odyssey onwards – where the hero’s faithful hound remembered him upon his return to Ithaca – the annals of literature are full of famous literary dogs. Here are ten of the best works of fiction to feature our four-legged friends.

1. Mark Twain, A Dog’s Tale.

My father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, but I am a Presbyterian. This is what my mother told me, I do not know these nice distinctions myself. To me they are only fine large words meaning nothing. My mother had a fondness for such; she liked to say them, and see other dogs look surprised and envious, as wondering how she got so much education …

This 1903 tale is one of several stories on this list which are told from the dog’s perspective. The dog in question is sold to a new owner and is sad to leave her mother behind, but the family she goes to live with are kind to her. One day, a fire breaks out in the nursery of the house – and the dog comes to the rescue …




2. Eleanor Atkinson, Greyfriars Bobby.

Bobby slipped out, dry as his own delectable bone, from under the tomb of Mistress Jean Grant, and nearly wagged his tail off with pleasure. Mistress Jeanie was set in a proud flutter when the Grand Leddy rang at the lodge kitchen and asked if she and Bobby could have their tea there with the old couple by the cozy grate fire …

Perhaps the most famous novel ever written about a dog, Greyfriars Bobby (1912) is a Scottish tale about the faithfulness of dogs towards their owners. Written from the perspective of the Skye terrier which gives the novel its title, the novel also features Auld Jock, Bobby’s owner, who has a close bond with his pet terrier.

When (spoiler alert) Jock dies, Bobby refuses to leave his master’s side, even when Jock is buried. Bobby ends up guarding Jock’s grave, by day and night, thus neatly symbolising the two main features associated with dogs: fidelity and vigilance.

3. O. Henry, ‘Memoirs of a Yellow Dog’.

But you needn’t look for any stuck-up literature in my piece, such as Bearoo, the bear, and Snakoo, the snake, and Tammanoo, the tiger, talk in the jungle books. A yellow dog that’s spent most of his life in a cheap New York flat, sleeping in a corner on an old sateen underskirt (the one she spilled port wine on at the Lady Longshoremen’s banquet), mustn’t be expectcd to perform any tricks with the art of speech …

In this 1903 story from one of America’s greatest writers of the short story, the yellow dog of the story’s title recounts his life, his owners, and his love for his master (and his dislike for his master’s wife). Man and dog really do have a stronger bond in this story than man and wife – but we won’t spoil the ending …

4. Rudyard Kipling, ‘Garm – a Hostage’.

First published in 1899, this short story from the writer who also gave us the poem ‘The Power of the Dog’ – tells of a man whose friend gives him a bull-terrier as a ‘hostage’. However, ‘Garm’ – the name the narrator gives to his newly acquired dog – misses his original owner, who visits his beloved terrier on a regular basis. This is another tale tinged with sadness, but shot through with the strong bond between a man and his dog.






5. Jack London, The Call of the Wild.

The 100 best novels / No 35 / The Call of the Wild by Jack London (1903)


London (1876-1916) was the first writer to become a millionaire from his writing, and although he wrote a vast number of different books including an early dystopian novel (The Iron Heel) and a novel set in the days of early man (Before Adam), he is best-known for his two short novels set in the Yukon Territory in Canada during the Gold Rush, The Call of the Wild (1903) and White Fang (1906).

The first of these is probably the most famous and widely read, and focuses on a dog which is stolen from its home in California and made to work as a sled-dog in the snowy wilds of Alaska. As the novel’s title suggests, The Call of the Wild is about the canine protagonist’s transition from a life among civilisation to the relative freedom he finds among the wilderness of the Yukon.


6. Virginia Woolf, Flush: A Biography.

Although it’s subtitled A Biography, this short 1933 book is as much fiction as non-fiction. However, its subject was real enough: the Victorian poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s pet dog. The cocker spaniel, Flush, is acquired by Barrett Browning and taken from the countryside to London, where he lives among the London literati before travelling out with the Brownings to Italy. This is Woolf’s funniest book, and although it’s wildly different from The Waves or Mrs Dalloway, it shows off her distinctive modernist style.




7. Franz Kafka, Investigations of a Dog by Franz Kafka.

Midnight Madness / Franz Kafka’s “Investigations of a Dog: And Other Creatures”


Kafka is a master of the weird, the unusual, the not-quite-right, his stories and novels haunting us long after we have finished reading them. And although he’s well-known for longer works like The Castle and The Trial, he was also a master of the short story form, including the long short story (witness his masterpiece, ‘The Metamorphosis’).

"Investigations of a Dog" (German: "Forschungen eines Hundes") is a short story by Franz Kafka written in 1922. It was published posthumously in Beim Bau der Chinesischen Mauer (Berlin, 1931). The first English translation by Willa and Edwin Muir was published by Martin Secker in London in 1933. It appeared in The Great Wall of China. Stories and Reflections (New York City: Schocken Books, 1946). Told from the perspective of a dog, the story concerns the nature and limits of knowledge, by way of the dog's inquiries into the practices of his culture.

"Investigations of a Dog" was written in September and October 1922, soon after Kafka ended work on his unfinished novel The Castle. Similar to other Kafka stories such as "A Report to an Academy", "Josephine the Singer", and "The Burrow", the protagonist is an animal.

The unnamed narrator, a dog, recounts a number of episodes from its past, in which it used quasi-scientific and rational methods to resolve basic questions of its existence that most of its peers were content to leave unanswered, such as: "Whence does the Earth procure its food?".

Many of the seemingly absurd descriptions employed by the narrator express its misapprehension or confusion about the world, centering on dogkind's apparent inability to realize (or, some passages suggest, unwillingness to acknowledge) the existence of their human masters: the narrator is shocked into scientific investigation by witnessing seven dogs standing on their hind legs and performing to music (a troupe of circus or performing animals), and spends much time investigating "soaring dogs", tiny dogs lacking legs who silently exist above the heads of normal dogs while sometimes constantly talking nonsense, and what actions or rituals summon forth food.




8. Richard Adams, The Plague Dogs.

Everyone knows of Watership Down, Adams’ bestselling 1972 novel about a group of rabbits, but his 1977 novel The Plague Dogs is not as well-known. The novel focuses on Rowf and Snitter, two dogs which escape from a government research station in the Lake District in northern England.

They survive among the wilds of Cumbria, which Adams describes with great power and skill, but there’s a price on their backs – especially as it’s feared they may be carrying a deadly strain of plague which they acquired at the research station …

9. Philip K. Dick, ‘Roog’.

This story was written in 1951, and is an early work by the prolific science-fiction author – and a patron saint of the counterculture – Philip K. Dick (1928-82), best-known for writing the novel that inspired the film Blade Runner as well as other classic novels and stories such as ‘The Minority Report’ (also made into a film) and for the alternative-history novel, The Man in the High Castle.

This is another story told from the point of view of a dog. Boris believes the garbage-men who come to collect the trash from his owner’s house are aliens invading from another planet. He calls the strange creatures ‘Roogs’, but his attempts to warn his owners about the alien invasion are futile. But Dick leaves enough doubt in our minds that the dog may, after all, be right, and the ‘garbage-men’ may not be all they seem – as usual with Dick’s fiction, our understanding of reality and everything we take for granted is given a good shake.




10. Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.

Perhaps no pick of the best novels and stories about dogs could be without this more recent example, this 2003 mystery novel loosely inspired by the Sherlock Holmes adventures and featuring a teenage protagonist, Christopher, who goes in search of the neighbour’s missing dog. Although people tend to assume that Christopher has Asperger’s, Haddon has refuted this, and the book makes no reference to it. Instead, as Haddon has said in a blog post, the novel is about being an outsider.

INTERESTING LITERATURE


Sunday, November 26, 2017

Best books of 2017 / Part three

Best books of 2017

Part three

From moving memoirs to far-reaching fiction, the wonders of science and the lessons of history, novelists, poets and critics pick their best reads of the year

Sat 26 Nov 2017

Maggie O’Farrell

Anything is Possible; Goodnight Stories for Rebel Girls

Maggie O’Farrell.
good-night-stories-for-rebel-girls-book

We were spoilt this year by another brilliant and devastating Elizabeth Strout book, hot on the heels of 2016’s My Name Is Lucy Barton. With Anything Is Possible (Viking), Strout turns her clear, incisive gaze on the intricacies and betrayals of small-town life. I’m now dreading the hiatus until the next Strout. Goodnight Stories for Rebel Girls (Penguin) has been the definitive book of the year in our house, for both parents and offspring. It offers celebratory, non-judgmental paeans to the varied lives of influential women. Anyone needing an antidote for certain oversexualised, underoccupied screen heroines need look no further.






Sebastian Barry

Smile; Conversations with Friends

Sebastian Barry
Smile Jacket

A book that made me feel I really was in the presence of a master (and indeed there’s a touch of The Turn of the Screw about it, strangely enough) was Roddy Doyle’s new novel, Smile (Jonathan Cape). In quite another world of experience, but just as Irish for all that, Sally Rooney in Conversations with Friends (Faber) seems to be Truman Capote (with his sharpest scalpel) reborn, with more than a dash of the high intelligence of Elizabeth Bowen.







Jessie Burton

Madame Zero; Anything Is Possible; The Hate U Give; Priestdaddy

Jessie Burton
Priestdaddy

I’ve read some brilliant books this year, but a few stand out for me. Fiction-wise, Sarah Hall’s short-story collection, Madame Zero (Faber), was astonishing: humane yet otherworldly, disturbing, sexy and strange. The woman is a genius. Elizabeth Strout graced us with Anything Is Possible (Viking), her follow-up to My Name Is Lucy Barton. I’m addicted to Strout’s compassionate scalpel and in awe of her powers. She makes the small seem majestic. I also adored The Hate U Give, by Angie Thomas (Walker), a book full of life and laughter, told through the eyes of a young black girl in inner-city America who testifies against the police after a tragic shooting. In the nonfiction world, I wept with laughter at Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy (Allen Lane), her memoir of growing up with a Catholic priest for a dad. So weird, so wonderful. I just kept reading the passages aloud.



Charlotte Mendelson

Independent People; The Sparsholt Affair; Stranger, Baby

Charlotte Mendelson
sparsholt-affair

Can’t we talk about all my unread new books? I’m a late adopter; the more I’m told to read something, the longer it dawdles downstairs, waiting for that unquantifiable moment of ripeness. Or the stacks of disappointing fiction, mostly crime, or the few joys, none recent – Halldór Laxness’s Independent People? Elizabeth Strout? No? Fine, then. I’ve just started The Sparsholt Affair (Picador) by Alan Hollinghurst, my favourite living novelist. It had better be good. Emily Berry’s second poetry collection, Stranger, Baby (Faber), is witty, devastating, brilliant.








Mark Haddon

Division Street; Kumukanda; Black Country

Mark Haddon
Kumukanda

For reasons I don’t quite understand, poetry and I have been at odds with one another for a couple of years. I couldn’t bring myself to read an entire collection and I regularly gave up on poems that dared to go over the page. I simply couldn’t see the point. Then, a few weeks ago, I was sent a Red Cross parcel by Chatto & Windus which contained debut collections by three poets and they blew me away: Division Street by Helen Mort, Kumukanda by Kayo Chingonyi, and Black Country by Liz Berry. I have fallen in love with poetry again. Chatto clearly have some kind of secret hotline to my heart.







Lionel Shriver

The Fall Guy; The Dinner Party; Beautiful Animals

Lionel Shriver
Dinner Party

You could not go wrong with James Lasdun’s The Fall Guy (Jonathan Cape), a riveting psychological thriller with a protagonist actually as creepy as Ian McEwan’s stalker in Enduring Love, though (at first) more subtle. In Joshua Ferris’s entertaining collection The Dinner Party (Viking), most of the characters are comparatively sane, but no less deliciously ghastly. Lawrence Osborne’s Beautiful Animals (Hogarth) is both impossible to put down and beautifully written: a great combo.






Hilary Mantel


On Balance; Missing Fay

Hilary Mantel
Missing Fay

The poem Nativity, if it stood alone, makes Sinead Morrissey’s On Balance (Carcanet) a sweet Christmas choice, but it is only one of a number of thought-provoking poems in her sixth, prize-winning collection. Morrissey floats the reader glimpses of desires unmet, memories still fluid; the stories swim beyond the edge of the page, buoyed up by possibility. Adam Thorpe’s Missing Fay (Cape) is an intricately crafted novel, sharp-eared, current and full of heart, about a lost teenager in a lost England.









Jackie Kay

Kingdom of Gravity; First Time Ever; Days Without End

Jackie Kay
First Time Ever

Nick Makoha’s Kingdom of Gravity (Peepal Tree Press) is a bold and brilliant poetry debut that does not avert its gaze from trauma and atrocity (exploring along the way the brutal rule of Idi Amin and the civil war) and yet is light on its feet and fills you with hope. Peggy’s Seeger’s substantial and absorbing memoir First Time Ever (Faber) is fabulous, taking us back through British folk and reminding us of why we love her songs. Sebastian Barry’s Days Without End (Faber) totally captivated me – the voice is compelling and immersive and tells a story that we don’t get to hear. Barry faces up to the history of the settlers in America and the slaughter of the Sioux during the American civil war. It is a masterpiece; hypnotic and strange, full of its own music.







Cornelia Funke

The Omnivore’s Dilemma; What a Fish Knows

Cornelia Funke
What a Fish Knows cover

The Omnivore’s Dilemma (Bloomsbury) by Michael Pollan is, like all of his books, wildly entertaining and enlightening, challenging perceptions. For sure, you will never again look at the products in your supermarket in the same way. Or at the fields of a farmer. Numerous books have shown me how utterly ignorant I am about most creatures I share this planet with, but none humbled me more than What a Fish Knows (Oneworld) by Jonathan Balcombe. Many of us have a soft spot for dolphins and whales, but Balcombe makes it embarrassingly clear how absolutely ignorant (and arrogant) we are when it comes to the vast world of our oceans and their inhabitants.







David Nicholls

Priestdaddy; Respectable; The Red Parts; Days Without End

David Nicholls
Respectable

This year I read a series of fantastic memoirs. I loved Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy (Riverhead), in particular the depiction of her father, a gun-toting, guitar-wielding Republican pastor. Written with a poet’s precision, it’s funny, raucous, thoughtful and angry in turn. Lynsey Hanley’s Respectable (Allen Lane) is a sharp, insightful look at social mobility, and Maggie Nelson’s The Red Parts (Vintage) is a harrowing but clear-eyed examination of crime’s emotional fallout. As for fiction, I came a little late to Sebastian Barry’s Days Without End (Faber) but it really is an amazing achievement, especially the brilliantly sustained first-person voice. For page after page, I found myself thinking, how does he do this?




THE GUARDIAN