Homepages: a first look

My copies of Homepages, Tales from the Irish Blogosphere arrived this morning and I abandoned the computer to sit and read. An A5 book with a lovely cover (well done Katharina), it's light enough to be carried and small enough to fit in the most carriable of man bags or under the tree at Christmas (hint, hint).



In her introduction, Catherine, compiler of the book, calls it

"Fifty stories and photographs, fifty different impressions of homes past, home comforts, homes from home and home truths."

and that it certainly is. There's a lovely scene in Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas where Jack is transfixed by the veritable feast of new things to discover. I felt the same reading this book. From the opening story Yellow Summers Behind The Wall from OneForTheRoad right through the 147 pages to where John Braine's Homeboy sits, I tore through the book this morning with a ferocity and hunger normally reserved for a new Discworld novel.

I've been introduced to new writers and reminded of those whose blogs I've neglected. I hadn't heard of Ann from For The Long Run, whose farewell to her house evoked strong memories of all the houses I've moved from. The Kitchen in Thomastown photo by Catríona Dwyer could have been taken in my next door neighbours. Devin Mungovan's The Return of the Queen, John Butler's tale of LA, The Most Exclusive Prison Cell in the World, Beth Morrissey's Home Is Where The Heart Is and Elizabeth Hutchinson's Egyptian Space Invaders all convinced me to go add their feeds to my reader, to find out what else they've done.

Equally the name of friends and familiar bloggers appear. Darren's Talbot Street, Grannymar's The Light Went Out, K8's House Proud, Annie's He is a dog, not a human, Gray Wright's Tonight I'm Going Out and Sharon's Learning at Home with Autism are all posts I remember from their blogs, but somehow, as with my own inclusion The First Time, seeing them in print, in book form, away from the screen somehow changes them, adds gravity, exposes them for the quality pieces they really are, rather than just "another blog post" on a blog.

Similarly inclusions like Andrew's Baxter, Colm's Bonfires, Twenty's Home and David Maybury's fantastic tale Landscaping served to emphasise the quality of the writers who are blogging out there, who do share their thoughts on a regular basis.

I'd love non-bloggers, those who don't understand what blogging is or indeed people who think they might like to, but lack the courage, to read this book. From Marian's O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree to Manuel's Trophy Breakfast and from photos like Red Mum's Making a Swing to Narocroc's Home Under The Stars, the collection shows the breadth of talent, the variety of interests and the opportunity everyone has to contribute something, both to the blogosphere and to worthwhile collections like this.

More than anything, it's somehow appropriate that this collection arrived today. I sat, reading and thought of home, thought of cereals and icicles, window seats and cupán tae's, of Christmas songs, of clutter and cribbage, of London, Spain, Barretstown, Blessington, Graiguenamanagh, Blanchardstown and Dorset Street, all places I've lived in the years since I met my biological mother for the first time. It's the five year anniversary today. I'll send her a copy.

You've probably seen the link to buy on enough blogs now to know where to go. However, I'd invite you to think about the people who won't get the chance to read this, who don't have a home, those people for whom this book is more important, because it's funding their survival on the streets. Focus Ireland, like so many other deserving charities need your support, so getting a collection of quality writing into the bargain is no bad thing either.

Buy and have a read. Tell people about it.

Aravind Adiga wrote the kind of book he'd like to read

Image from here.

He wrote "the kind of book I'd like to read", he told the BBC. "I like books that have ideas in them and that move and entertain."

I'm full of admiration for this year's Man Booker Prize Winner. Aravind Adiga, the 34 year old first time novelist had been given odds of 7/1 to win before the ceremony, but his book, The White Tiger in less than 300 pages delivers a simplicity of narrative complementing a complex storyline. Its strength of delivery is such that Michael Portillo, chairman of the Booker judges said "In many ways it was the perfect novel. This book changed me, it changed my view of certain things, like what is the real India and what is the nature of poverty."



Yesterday Adiga said his debut novel was set in today's India and "revolves around the great divide between those Indians who have made it and those who have not".

"At the heart of the book it is something existential," he added. "It's a quest to break out of the circumstances you find yourself in - it's a quest for freedom."

There are three books featuring aspects of India I return to time and again - Yann Martel's Life of Pi, itself the 2002 Booker Prize Winner, this one and the sprawling epic that is Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts, a book I've read once a year every year since I discovered it. It's the imagery of India I love and indulge in, a country I'm almost afraid to visit, its rampant poverty and crowded population contrasting with the spiritual homes, the scenery, food and welcome of the people. I'm almost saving a visit until I have enough money to enjoy it, enough time to spend and enough gumption to truly value the experience.

Adiga was brave and uncompromising in his writing. Rather than set it in a colourful Bollywood-esque setting or taking the stance of a morally-guiding Hindi movie, without setting it solely in the slums or in some colonial Kipling-esque form, this novel moves through an uncompromising setting of a poor,dark, socially ill India.

In an interview in May Adiga was questioned about the poverty based disparity in his novel, about the premise that one man can break out of the class system to become successful and said

"I believe the extraordinary social structure [in India] is beginning to come apart to some extent. The shameless way wealth is flaunted is extraordinary. Poor people [see] the money the very rich have. Migration of labor is increasing in a big way, especially in north India. Old traditional ties and social structure in the villages and small towns are disappearing, and social unrest and resistance are growing. The Naxalite [Maoist] movement is reviving in many parts of the country and is gaining strength.

My novel attempts to look at what kind of man would be prepared to break the structure. You can in essence say this is a warning story, a fable of things that might lie ahead for India."

I have no aspirations to write a book, simply because I doubt I'd have the commitment. I also prefer the medium of photography and film to communicate complex ideas - I tend to just write and write without reaching a conclusion. My involvement with the 4 day movie project and with Darklight has fed that hunger, but I can't help respecting and praising Adiga for his success. It's inspiring to see anyone who has the dedication to sit and put their creativity into something that will ultimately bring entertainment, or even better, a new perspective to anyone who can pick up their book.

But to write it in an individual style - without compromising your style because anyone thinks it's wrong, stupid or flawed because it doesn't match their literary aspirations, well, that's just that extra bit special. Such was the joy of his editor, Ravi Mirchandani, interviewed by Time Magazine, who said of Adiga's narrative "The voice is fantastic and it never falters".

The White Tiger is the most recent novel to reignite a thirst to travel, to see India, to see for myself a culture and a people that seems to be quickly changing but is still a world away from our own. It's almost time. I have Aravind Ariga to thank for that.