Books
Stop the bandwagon; I want to get off. It is simply impossible to fathom why such panoply of talented writers find it necessary to make contortions in plot and structure just to incorporate references to youth culture. Jeremy Sheldon's otherwise superb bundle of short stories is guilty of this very offence. Rather than railing against pop culture, his creations wallow in it and define themselves by it. Perhaps he is trying to distil and judge the relevance of crisp brands and the like on the public mores of Britain's young and aimless; I don't know. Though there is little evidence of such lofty aspirations. The sideways references to Anna Kournikova, Tekken and Yakult, far from being shockingly zeitgeist, are about as nauseating in their wannabe cool as a public schoolboy's impersonation of Ali G.
Though unnecessary accommodations are made to allow for such references the stories aren't ruined. You cannot fail but be won over by the wit and pace of 'The Game' and its account of renegade supermarket-sweeps in south London. The hero of 'Higher Society', meanwhile, demonstrates Sheldon's ability to build genuine depth into his characters within the confines of a very staid narrative structure. 'White Wedding', though, is a real high-point with a video-game champion trapped halfway in between his ambition and inadequacies. 'Off the Wrist' supplies neat and touching observations on the state of manhood; but on one too many occasions, however, Sheldon slides into a kind of lazy laddism. Just as the reader begins to engage with his diffident protagonist, the author appears to panic and seeks refuge in an indulgent and superficial masculinity. Of course, this is part of his males' wider inability to articulate any kind of emotion, but that doesn't stop it becoming a decided niggle as one progresses through the book.
Sheldon's collection is a peculiar fudge of life-affirming beauty and geekish sentimentality. The Comfort Zone is definitely worth reading, but you will need to do it soon. A couple more months left hanging round on the shelves of Borders and all of the author's pop-culture linkages will seem hopelessly outdated.
Inquisition tells the story of Cathan who, in the first book of the Aquasilva trilogy, saves Lepidor from the evil oppressors of the Domain. In this book, he sets out to find the Aeon, a deep-sea ship, which is rumoured to be able to control storms. On the way, he discovers the unpleasant secret behind his own past and is soon involved in a plot which seems to be spiralling out of his control.
Inquisition discusses religious and political fanaticism and the result of putting ideals first and the lives of friends second. No doubt many parallels are supposed to be drawn with the real world but to be honest, I can't be bothered. Reading the book in the first place was hard enough work. While the basic storyline is fairly good, I never managed to get involved enough with the characters to actually care if Ravenna and Cathan would get together or if they were instead tortured and burned at the stake by the Inquisition.
This probably isn't fair, I've never been into fantasy as a genre and I've only read the second book of the trilogy. Perhaps that's why keeping track of the names of the people and countries; working out what the hero was trying to do, where he was going and who was on his side seemed more effort than it was worth.
The trilogy is, however, not without interest. Audley is an undergraduate at St. John's at the moment. With two published books to his name, the first a bestseller according to the blurb on the cover of the second, no wonder I'm feeling antagonistic towards him. While the book is nothing exceptional outside the fantasy genre, Audley has successfully created his alternative world or perhaps future planet earth and with an exciting story to go with it, I'm sure that's all that's required.
13th Jun 2002