The Book Tower

I’m about a third of the way through Jonathan Littell’s The Kindly Ones, a novel of nearly 1000 pages in length that is an at times painfully disturbing account of the Second World War from the point of view of an SS officer. The book is strange reading; often almost grimly fascinating, at others turgid, laborious and almost unreadable. I’m going to waver my review until when (and if) I finish it. There’s genius in there somewhere, and the novel has already received many glowing notices. I understand where Littell is coming from and where he is going, I’m just finding it hard to stick with him.

The Kindly Ones continues my run of difficult fiction this year, which started with Roberto Bolano’s 2666. Another extremely long novel, the late Spanish author’s swansong has been described by many as a masterpiece. This is possibly the most inpenetrable novel I’ve ever picked up, the kind of novel where you’re still working out what it is actually about when you’re turning the 800th page. Compared to 2666, The Kindly Ones is a breeze, but I’m glad I’ve read 2666. If the reader is an explorer then this is the Everest of books. Or maybe the Moon.

If this wasn’t enough, I’ve also worked my way through David Peace’s extraordinary Red Riding quartet, which although a definite masterpiece is still the most unsettling series of books I have ever read. I followed with The Damned United, Peace’s account of Brian Clough’s short term as manager of Leeds United in 1974. The writing style is as distinctive as his earlier fiction, although where Red Riding blended multilayered voices with brutal landscapes and dreams with brutal characters, I found The Damned United less effective. Expecting an account of Clough’s struggle with Leeds, the reader is treated to more staccato dialogue, confusing jumps between different narratives and Peace’s poetic style, although it’s often the poetry of the nightmare. I found the Clough story, in Peace’s hands, almost too difficult to bear.

David Peace is like a friend I don’t really like very much but can’t resist. I hang around with him more than I should. I listen to his voice and it gets under my skin; I admire his style but I want rid of it after too long. Then I go back for more.

Next week I’m on holiday but it won’t end there. I’m taking another Peace novel with me, Tokyo Year Zero, the first of his Tokyo trilogy. Also packed is The Secret Speech, Tom Rob Smith’s sequel to the acclaimed Child 44. This is a new crime series of novels set in 50s Soviet Russia. Some may call it dark fiction, but it’s really quite light compared to what I’ve been reading lately.