Museum Visit - Tate Modern (Rothko and Fontana)

Upon moving to London, I was immediately overwhelmed by the amount of options for cultural enrichment, be it theater, music, or fine arts. First on my list was the Tate Modern, which I’ve never had the chance to visit. This weekend, I made what will surely be the first of many visits to this wonderful museum and cultural space. Here are a few impressions and thoughts.

I couldn’t help but look out for Mark Rothko’s work in the museum, having never actually seen any of his work in person. It was not long until I found a room to fulfil all my Rothko desires. The museum has an entire collection of Rothkos, originally commissioned for the restaurant of The Four Seasons Hotel in New York. After having completed these pieces of art, Rothko deemed them inappropriate for a restaurant, and gave the entire collection of paintings to the Tate. Sitting at the centre of the room in which these paintings have now been placed, one does feel that these paintings would have been entirely out of place in a commercial establishment. The room is ample sized, but the dim lights and the enormity of the paintings achieves an almost claustrophobic effect. Rothko himself stated that the paintings are meant to evoke a sense of enclosing walls. The strong angular lines in some of these paintings do call to mind images of doors and windows, yet the persistent shade of dark burgundies and reds suggest that there is nothing beyond these windows and doors – they merely hint at a chance of escape, of a world beyond our own, but ultimately dash these hopes. The time spent in this room was not nearly enough to fully immerse myself in Rothko’s work, but it’s a start

One of the most interesting pieces at the Tate can be found in a slightly less obvious, immersive space. Lucio Fontana’s Spatial Concept ‘Waiting’ hangs subtly in a corner of a room entitled Beyond Painting. The surprisingly simple piece of art is essentially a canvas that has one very neat and precise slash down the middle. The visual quality of the work is engaging enough, the slash allowing the canvas to eerily cave in on itself, but the concept behind the work (or behind the canvas) is what really struck me. By cutting into the canvas itself, Fontana forces us to question the nature of art itself. The canvas is often used to represent realities outside of the object itself, while here Fontana draws our attention to the art object itself. It also compels us to question the meaning of fine arts, with the slash showing us that there is, quite literally, nothing behind the canvas. While it’s hard to imagine that this was Fontana’s purpose in creating this gestural work of art, but as great pieces of art often do, the work outlives the artist’s intent.

These were only two of the many wonderful artists whose work is housed at the Tate Modern, and I would encourage all Londoners to visit this and other museums several times – appreciating art seems to work so much better when we aren’t attempting to run through all the rooms of the museum in one go. Take your time, sit down, reflect, enjoy.

Book Review: Throne of Glass Series by Sara J. Maas

I read all of Sara J. Maas’ books from the Throne of Glass series in succession, so I decided to wait until I finished all before reviewing them together. In retrospect, it would have been a better idea to relay my feelings after each individual book, because they were all quite different and my opinion of the series now seems to be hinged on my feelings towards the latest instalment. I will, however attempt to give a fair review of the series as a whole and each individual book.

1.    Throne of Glass

The first book in the series came highly recommended by booktubers and bloggers around the internet, and its presence was so pervasive that I gave it a shot, despite the somewhat off-puttingly commercial covers (obviously geared towards teens and pre-teens, to my embarrassment). I can see how it would appeal to that demographic, and still works for slightly older readers as light entertainment. Its premise derives from the classic Cinderella story, but with a slight twist. Cinderella here is not a helpless, oppressed damsel in distress, but rather a strong (both physically and mentally) and opinionated young woman. This automatically appealed to my feminist sensibilities, and successfully counterbalanced the somewhat clichéd love triangle that reared its head soon into the book. That’s not to say that the romantic plot of the book wasn’t enjoyable – the light-hearted banter between the characters was pleasant if not particularly interesting. In this instalment it had a more prominent role than in later books, which had slightly more action. This instalment of the series had a bit of a murder-mystery vibe about it, with the plot mainly focusing on the central event of the competition in which Celaena, the hero is taking part. The setting mostly remains in the castle, where Calaena is a guest whilst she is taking part in the king’s competition to be his “champion”. I preferred this set-up to the expansiveness of the later books (but more on that later). Overall, Throne of Glass was a fun, light, quick read.

2.     Crown of Midnight

If I’m being honest, I can hardly remember what happened in the sequel after reading the long-winded third and fourth book, which expanded on the world of the novels so much. I remember enjoying it, despite the fact that there isn’t a whole lot happening at this point. Or maybe there is? Wouldn’t I remember? I do remember that it got a whole lot grittier, and there were definitely some intense and surprising parts.

3.     Heir of Fire

The third instalment of the series takes this world to a whole new level, but I wasn’t really ready for it. Maas’ ambitious world-building, or rather exponential world-expanding, is to be commended, but somehow it felt a bit jarring for me. I had grown used to the setting of the palace in the first two books, and although I understand how that might get boring for readers, it was somehow too sudden, when in the third book we are suddenly catapulted into an entirely different setting, with a whole host of new characters, villains, and love interests. I like a sense of stability in the series – like how Harry Potter always returned to Hogwarts where his next adventure took place.  The third book not only changes the setting, but changes the perspective of the novel, and often. We are introduced to Manon Blackbeak, a witch, whose life will obviously have some bearing upon the main characters eventually, but I found myself impatient with her storylines at first. It was a bit too much snarling and snapping, and showing off just how evil and gruesome these witches are. Later on, when the character is given much more nuance, her POV chapters become much more interesting as well. Caelana also changes quite a lot in this instalment – although her character development is somewhat uneven throughout the series. I was relieved to see that despite her new outlook on life and her newly acquired powers, she retained the attitude and bad manners that made her an interesting character in the first place.

4.     Queen of Shadows

At this point in the series, when the lack of action sometimes allowed for me to slow down and deliberate the writing style of the novels, I realised that there were some annoying ‘writing ticks’ and some strange inconsistencies throughout. For example, I had the sense that the historical background for the novels (yes, I know it’s fantasy) was somehow inconsistent. It may be an alternate reality, but it has to have some kind of consistent world that possibly resembles a certain time period in our own history. Here, Aelin goes out and grabs herself some breakfast, dies her hair with hair dye from the market, and she’s basically got a swanky downtown loft apartment with a fridge and fully functional waterworks. Yet other elements of this world seem slightly medieval. It felt like the author was just including whatever element would make a scene easier to write, and that’s not the best way to go. I also noticed that Maas has some favourite phrases, and boy does she love to pepper her writing with them. It made me wonder why her editors didn’t at least hint to her that she should invest in a thesaurus. The word incarnate makes an appearance every couple of pages – “the swaggering assassin incarnate”, “despair incarnate”, “death incarnate”, “the Wolf incarnate” etc., etc. Her characters also seem to have a “killing calm” come over them fairly often, a times inexplicably achieved alongside their own professed anger and outrage. That said, the fourth installment wasn’t all bad. We finally got a lot more backstory about Caleana, and also had a glimpse behind the motivations (or lack thereof) of the king, who had previously seemed like a very generic and impenetrable villain.

Overall, these books were enjoyable, quick reads, if one turns a blind eye to the inconsistencies and the writing style. 

Book Review: The Fire Sermon by Francesca Haig

There’s a chance that many readers will pass over The Fire Sermon, thinking that their appetites for post-apocalyptic YA novels with kick-ass female protagonists has been satiated. Yet it would truly be a mistake to miss out on this particular specimen of the genre.

The novel is set in a world rebuilt four-hundred years after a nuclear destruction of some sort rendered the entire landscape of the planet barren. The ecological hardships have, of course, also brought with them social turmoil. If it weren’t difficult enough to rebuild society after such a wipe-out, the blast has also altered human DNA, so that all humans are now born as part of a pair, twins, who are labelled Alfas and Omegas, and segregated accordingly. One twin, the Omega, often has a physical defect, while their Alpha twin is perfectly formed. They may be separated in early childhood, but they are forever connected in death – for if one dies, the other dies as well. This creates obvious complications in a society that seeks to segregate the two groups.

This premise was enough to pique my interest, but what Haig does with it, kept me going with the book. Beneath the post-apocalyptic adventure there is a persistent vein of psychological exploration – Zach, one of the main antagonists, is especially probed to discover what drives his actions. This renders him much more interesting than the often two-dimensional villains who cherish simple grievances and often don’t have consistent or clear motivations for their actions. The novel also extensively explores the effects of solitude and solitary confinement on the psyche, through the characters Cass and Kip, which also results in interesting revelations.

Through the character of Piper, the novel also examines the difficulties of leadership and sacrifice for the greater good. Piper sheds light on the very real issues with an idealistic view of this fractured world; Cass may harbor hopes of protecting all the innocents of her world, but it seems she has a difficult lesson coming her way. Many novels would paint the pragmatic strategist character as ultimately lacking in moral fiber, but at the end of the book, it seems that Haig wants to remind us that nothing is quite so black and white.

Although I greatly enjoyed it, all the philosophical and psychological exploration in the novel does detract somewhat from the action. The plotting of the story is quite simple: continual pursuit and travel through this destructed world in the first half, and little respite until the second part, in which our heroes take off on a quest of their own. It’s not the twists and turns of the plot, or the revelations (which most readers I’m sure could see a mile off even before Cass used her seer powers), or the fast-paced adventure that renders this book a great read, but rather the very real emotional, psychological, and moral explorations demanded in such a world.

You may feel that the market is over-saturated with post-apocalyptic YA novels with strong female leads, but Francesca Haig’s The Fire Sermon is still worth a read, as it offers a completely different world with its own set of rules, and a different style and perspective than that of others in this genre.

You can buy the book here.

Check out other reviews of the book on Good Reads.

Book Review: To All the Boys I've Loved Before / P.S. I Still Love You by Jenny Han

There's nothing like a sweet contemporary YA book for summer relaxation. I decided to read Jenny Han's novels after graduation and a slew of work placements as a reward for my hard work these past months (pats shoulder). Han's duology has made the rounds with book bloggers and vloggers, and after only hearing good things about it, I had to see what the fuss was about. 

Initially the intimation that there might be a love-triangle set-up (or even more than one)  put me off, as so many YA novels have featured this element of late (see this rant on Book Riot for more on this subject). Yet I found that it worked in these novels. When reading YA as an adult, one must attempt to recall what it was like as 15 or 16-year-old experiencing love for the first time. If I remember correctly, it was more than plausible for a girl at that age to have feelings for multiple boys. This is the age when many girls are simply in love with the idea of being in love, and Han's novels capture that feeling perfectly. These are not momentous ever-lasting love stories. This is not Romeo and Juliet. But it has a sweet realism to it that nonetheless provides perfect literary escapism.

However, if this were simply a high school love story, it would not have kept me interested to the degree that it did. Two additional elements made these books worthwhile for readers of all ages; the family background and the subtle humour in the narrator's voice. The protagonist, Lara Jean's family is less than perfect, but still endearing in its disfunctions and quirks. The family characters were fleshed-out well and made me want to spend time at their home, baking cookies and lightly poking fun at each other. The humour in the novel was not of a laugh-out-loud kind, yet it lightened the tone of the book and often made me smile. 

Overall I would recommend these novels to anyone looking for a glimpse into the past, when high-school love and family drama were the sole occupants of one's mind. 

Buy the book online here and here. 

See other reviews of the books on Goodreads (here and here).

Cover Art Envy - The Many Faces of To Kill a Mockingbird

Cornerstone recently published a new version of To Kill a Mockingbird, for it's 50th Anniversary, while the sequel to the book, Go Set a Watchman, is set to come out this summer with an equally appealing cover. Let's take a look at the various covers of Harper Lee's classic:

1960 - The original dust jacket, which would inform all further designs with its iconic tree motif.

1982 - It seems a bit outdated now, but it definitely reminds me of middle school, where the library was  well-stocked with this version.

1989 - Arrow's first verison of the book, featuring the iconic mockingbird and a black cover that hints at the difficult and dark issues explored in the novel.

2004 - Vintage Classic edition with elegant minimalist cover art.

2006 - The American cover looking ahead to the 50th Anniversary of the book's publication evokes the original with its tree design and color scheme. 

2010 - Another American edition for the 50th Anniversary includes a variety of the important symbols of the book. 

2010 - Arrow's cover for the 50th Anniversary reminds us of the carefree and adventurous spirit of the protagonist, Scout. 

Which cover do you like best? :)

Not Your Average Assigned Reading: 3 Awesome Books from Your School Days

There is nothing like compulsory reading to instantly put you off any form of literature. Something about the fact that you're forced to do it, makes even interesting, easy or engaging books seem to drag on forever. However, there are some books out there on student reading lists that defy even the great pressure of required reading – those books that you remember long into adulthood as that one novel you actually enjoyed in high school.

Whether you've read these in your school days or have yet to tick it off your list of must-read classics, these three required reads are worth a second look.

1. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Sweet and short with a moral message to boot. Having read this as an adult rather than a pre-teen like most people, I can assure everyone that it is worth the read no matter your age. It may be written from the perspective of the young girl Scout, but the themes it deals with, such as individuality and community, race, family and ethics are very much engaging for adults as well. With the beautiful new 50th Anniversary Edition out, and the newly discovered Harper Lee novel Go Set a Watchmen (which is somewhat of a sequel to Mockingbird) coming out in the summer, there is no better time than now to rediscover this classic.

You can purchase the book here.

Take a look at the GoodReads reviews here.

2. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

Despite its title, many student do not have 'great expectations' when it comes to this classic Dickens novel. Dickens gets a bad rap for being a bit to sickly-sweet in his rags-to-riches stories of orphans and cast-aways, yet this novel is distinctly different. Aside from the seemingly compulsory Dickensian poor-boy main character, there are some truly great (and truly creepy) supporting characters. Miss Havisham for example, is one of those characters that will forever be etched in your mind once you read the evocative description of this spiteful old lady – no wonder someone decided to write a whole novel about her back-story!

You can purchase the book here.

Take a look at the GoodReads reviews here.

3. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

This book hardly needs introduction, as the new Baz Luhrman movie and the plethora of 20's/Gatsby-themed parties that followed provided quite the promotion for this classic American novel. But despite it's somewhat clichéd status, there is real depth in this book. The florid prose style of F. Scott Fitzgerald will surely motivate even the most un-literary to undertake some kind of creative writing endeavor, while the decadence of the era (though presented in a negative light) will provide for some light-hearted indulgence.

You can purchase the book here.

Take a look at the GoodReads reviews here.

Book Review: I, Claudius by Robert Graves

Having studied Greek and Roman literature for an entire term, I have been craving some fiction that could transport me to these times – albeit without the ancient language or dry non-fiction accounts. Yet as someone who has not delved into much historical fiction before, I found it incredibly difficult to find a somewhat credible, yet entertaining read. Then a friend suggested I read the classic piece of historical fiction: I, Claudius by Robert Graves.

The title is somewhat deceptive, as the story does not actually revolve around the rule of Claudius, but rather recounts the events leading up to his accession to the Roman throne, through his perspective. Claudius is an interesting choice for a narrator: as a stammering cripple, he’s no ordinary fictional hero. I’d like to say that his physical hindrances are made up for by a clear moral integrity, but this is not entirely the case. Within the context of his family, Claudius is quite sane, smart and well, a lot nicer then the rest. But, perhaps wisely, he never really attempts to act out against the inequalities and brutalities that surround him on a day-to-day basis. He is, rather, a reclusive historian, recording the events around him dispassionately. Perhaps it would have been slightly incongruous within the setting, to have a moralizing hero, amidst the excesses and grotesque habits of the royal family. Graves’ choice of narration – a contemporaneous mock first-person history – is also a clever one, as Claudius never has to go into minute detail, describing the day-to-day lives of his subjects. His portrait is made with broad brushstrokes, with wide leaps in narrative and time, allowing Graves to take great liberties with history.

Overall, the narrative is engaging, despite becoming repetitively brutal and nonsensical towards the end. There seems to be no respite from the evils of the all-powerful, over-privileged ruling class, as the novel continually ups its perverse ante. Starting with the rule of Augustus and the behind-the-scenes machinations of his wife Livia, which already raise eyebrows and provide conflict, the novel only descends further into debauchery through the rule of Tiberius, and finally crazy Caligula. The latter is such a ridiculously unjust and cruel ruler, that these passages almost seem comic. Caligula is presented as a man who has forever stayed in the happy years of his childhood, playing pretend by acting like a God and waging pretend-wars against the sea. Yet this childlike manner is coupled with an immense bloodthirst and unchecked power, which together create the ultimate villain. The physically weak, but mentally sharp Claudius does not really provide an antithesis to this obscene villainy, yet we empathize with him and cheer him on in his attempts to evade death.

After an entire novel devoted to villains, it remains to be seen whether the sequel to I, Claudius provides a proportionate counterpoint in the hero, Claudius.

Buy the book online here. 

See other reviews of the book on Goodreads.