All The Light We Cannot See

Power of Sound

There was, admittedly, a reluctance to read this book, in spite of its Pulitzer and many more awards, because World War II holds little interest now. Anthony Doerr’s All The Light We Cannot See is a beautiful and delicate novel set in evil times, but still bringing out the goodness in so many people; a love story waiting to happen, tragically the two people meant for each other, meet much too late.

Marie-Laure lost her sight at the age of six, but her loving father makes sure she is as self-sufficient as possible.  A locksmith at the Museum of Natural History in Paris by profession, a maker of intricate little puzzle boxes as a hobby, Daniel LeBlanc makes a detailed scale model of their area in Paris, so that his daughter can get a feel of it; he buys her expensive Braille books and also takes her with him to work, where she learns a lot from the scientists working at the Museum.

The Museum also hides under massive security, a priceless but cursed diamond, the Sea of Flames. Whoever keeps it cannot die, but it will take a toll on their loved ones.

Parallel to the life of the LeBlancs is that of German orphan Werner Pfennig, who along with his sister Jutta, lives in an orphanage in the coal-mining town of Zollverein. He and Jutta find a broken short-wave radio, which Werner manages to repair, revealing his extraordinary skill with radio circuitry. He and Jutta listen to many programmes, including a broadcast from France hosted by a man who shares stories about science, simplified for young listeners. This broadcast becomes Werner’s way out of his sad existence.

 When the Germans occupy France, the LeBlancs are forced to move to the beautiful coastal town of Saint-Malo, with a ‘crazy’ uncle Etienne and his kind housekeeper Madame Manec.  Marie-Laure is happy for a while, till the Germans march into the town and destroy its fragile peace. 

Werner’s technical wizardly helps him escape the orphanage and gain entry into an elite Nazi military school which is brutal in the extreme. Werner’s best friend Frederick, the gentle bird lover, is broken by the school’s savage regime, but he survives again due to his skill and is sent to the front to trace enemy radio broadcasts.

Daniel is arrested by the Germans, denounced by a greedy neighbor and disappears. Madame Manec, with Etienne and Marie-Laure runs an efficient but dangerous Resistance operation from their home.

In 1944, when the War is gradually coming to an end, with deaths and broken spirits on both sides—Doerr depicts the suffering of the Germans too—Werner finally lands in Saint-Malo, to find and destroy the radio that has been transmitting intelligence information and helping the Allied Forces against the Germans. At the same time, a sadistic German military officer, Reinhold von Rumpel, suffering from cancer arrives searching for the Sea of Flames, that can save him.

Werner and Marie-Laure’s paths briefly converge and a connection is briefly forged that is beyond the madness, cruelty and destruction around them—these two strange kids, the blind girl with a thousand freckles and the pale German boy with a shock of snowy hair, brought together by the power of radio waves that offered them both hope and redemption.

An emotionally stirring story, with wonderfully etched characters—even the minor ones like Werner’s giant buddy in the army and the Saint-Malo baker, who inserts secret messages into her loaves of bread. People who find the strength to fight tough circumstances, their courage is never acknowledged by history--- only by fiction.

All The Light We Cannot See

By Anthony Doerr

Publisher: Scribner

Pages: 530

A Brief History Of Seven Killings

Savage Times

The writing career of this year’s Man Booker prize winner Marlon James is a study in persistence. His first book was reportedly rejected by over seventy publishers. His third, A Brief History Of Seven Killings, bowled the judges over and was picked unanimously—the first time an author from Jamaica won this prize.

The extraordinary novel is spans three decades and uses the true story of the attempt on the life of reggae star Bob Marley (referred to only as “the singer”) as a peg to hang a probe into Jamaican society. The language moves from slang to formal sprinkled with so much swearing, that the author said in jest that he would not recommend readers gifting it to their mothers.

 James imagines the stories of the gangland shooters, and in the style of oral history has many people contributing to the vivid narrative—including a ghost.  It is as satisfying a book as it is tough to read. Right at the start its seventy-five characters are listed and the reader has to keep track and they swoop in and out, using their own distinctive patois. For instance, the evil criminal Josey Wales, says of his meeting with CIA agents, “I don’t tell him that yo tengo suficiente español para concocer que eres la más gran broma en Sudamérica. I chat to him bad like some bush naigger and ask dumb question like, So everybody in America have gun? What kinda bullet American fire? Why you don’t transfer Dirty Harry to the Jamaican branch? hee hee hee.” The book is a veritable babel of voices in settings that are brutally violent and call out comparisons to the films of Quentin Tarantino.

Jones encapsulates the nexus between organized crime and politics in 1970s Jamaica (a Mumbai reader would find parallels in the city, the way ghetto boys are attracted to crime); the attempt on Marley’s life was allegedly triggered by the 1976 election campaign, the most violent in the country’s history. The CIA, anti-Castro Cubans, Columbian drug cartels further muddied Jamaican waters.

It is an ambitious novel, well-researched, sharply observed and fearless; it challenges the reader to pick up all the strands and try to make sense of the chaos. It certainly won’t encourage anyone to book a Caribbean cruise!

A Brief History Of Seven Killings

By Marlon James

Publisher: Riverhead

Pages: 704

The Survivor

Across The Border

Many thrillers using the current scenario of international political skullduggery have Arab or Afghan terrorists as villains, but The Survivor is a rare book, in which the focus is on Pakistanis.

This is the fourteen Mitch Rapp thriller by Vince Flynn, who passed away after having written just a few pages, and the book was completed by Kyle Mills. Not having read any other books by Flynn it’s hard to say whether Mills has delivered on style, but publishers and fans must have been happy because Mills will write two more Mitch Rapp books.

Rapp is a CIA assassin, who is legendary in espionage circles for having carried out many successful hits and also being virtually indestructible. He is a patriot and will go to any lengths to destroy enemies of the US and protect his country. He lost his pregnant wife in an attack on his life and is even more of a loose cannon now. But there is also an attempt to humanize him and not portray him as a remorseless killing machine. He is a man of his word, is wonderful with children, and unflinchingly loyal to his friends and associates. His relationship with his senior, Stan Hurley, who is dying of cancer, is depicted with compassion. Rapp also accords total respect to his female boss, Irene Kennedy, with not an iota of insubordination, which is in sharp contrast to the way the feudal Pakistanis or the boorish American Senator Ferris treat her. In different times, under different circumstances, he would have been a better man.

Of course, these books work if the reader takes for granted that the Americans are the good guys and that it is okay for CIA hitmen to kill anybody who steps in their way. If you start questioning why the CIA plants moles all over the world and gathers information using fair means or clandestine, then Mitch Rapp, Irene Kennedy and their small band of globetrotting assassins do not come out smelling of roses.

But in The Survivor, Pakistan’s ISI turns out to be a worthy opponent and comes close to toppling the CIA, weakening the US and controlling the Middle East. Mills has a fairly good fix on Pakistan’s internal politics and has fun pushing Americans against the wall, since it is their money that funds their enemies. The US sends aid to Pakistan and it ends up with militant groups and corrupt bureaucrats to carry out their anti-America activities.

In the earlier book, The Last Man, a CIA agent Joe Rickman who had an encyclopedic knowledge of the workings of the organisation—just where the agents and deep ‘assets’ are, which diplomat or politician is being bribed and so on—went rogue. He was killed by Rapp, along with his Pakistani cohort General Durrani, but Rickman planned the destruction of the CIA from beyond the grave.

He left encrypted files to be released at timed intervals and as CIA’s network starts unraveling one secret agent at a time, in this book, it’s a race between the CIA operatives and he ISI’s devious, power hungry chief Ahmed Taj to reach the priceless cachet of Rickman’s information before it blows up in the face of America.

Flynn and Mills may have written Mitch Flynn as a jingoistic and rougher version of James Bond, but at least this book gives credit to the Pakistanis for being just as smart and ruthless. They unscramble data faster and reach their targets before the Americans. However, Rapp is the ‘hero’ so he gets to win, though most of the info-gathering work is done by the IT wiz Marcus Dumond and the political heavy-lifting done by the unflappable Irene Kennedy.

Still, it’s a fast-paced and exciting read, with quite a few tense action sequences. Plus, India gets an honorable mention as Pakistan’s good and stable neighbour!

The Survivor

By Vince Flynn & Kyle Mills

Publisher: Atria

Pages: 400

The Japanese Lover

Love And A Little Magic

When Isabel Allende’s The House of the Spirits came in 1985, it became an international bestseller. The Chile-born, California-settled author’s sprawling, emotion-soaked epics (most of the 21 novels she has written) have been full of, history, memory, romance and magic realism.  Her new novel The Japanese Lover was eagerly awaited, and it has all the ingredients the reader has come to expect from her work, but somehow, it turns out less than satisfactory, like a dish that looks delicious but lacks that one spice that will make it perfect.

The novel is intriguing and has a fresh twist every few pages, but there is also a rushed, breathless feel to it, as if the writer wanted to cram in a lot more but was hampered by a looming deadline, like this were a first draft waiting for more layering.

The book moves back and forth from the World War II era to the present.  A young Moldovian woman, Irina Bazili, with a terrible secret, comes to work at a home for senior citizens, in San Francisco. Called Lark House, the place is rather jauntily described thus: “Founded in the mid-twentieth century to offer shelter with dignity to elderly persons of slender means, for some unknown reason from the beginning it had attracted left-wing intellectuals, oddballs, and second-rate artists.”

She makes herself indispensable with her hard work and honesty (she refuses the legacy of a French dandy as “ill-gotten” gains) and is summoned by the latest entrant, Alma Belasco. A rich and sophisticated woman, she could afford a better place, but prefers to stay at the humble Lark House, away from her mansion and her caring family.  From being secretary and general helper, Irina becomes a close friend of Alma and attracts the undying love of Alma’s grandson, Seth Belasco.

In putting together the Belasco Family history, as an excuse to get close to Irina,  Seth discovers more about his grandmother’s secrets—most importantly the mysterious Japanese lover, Ichimei Fukuda, whom the old lady still goes off to meet; she receives letters and gifts from him and the reader is told the story of the great love of Alma’s life that transcends all boundaries.

Alma, was sent away by her Polish-Jewish parents to their relatives, Lillian and Isaac Belasco, to protect her from the horrors of impending Holocaust.  Lonely and grieving for her family,  Alma latches on to the Belasco’s compassionate son Nathaniel and the Japanese gardener’s son Ichimei.  (Her wise uncle observes, “Childhood is a naturally unhappy period of our existence, Lillian. It was Walt Disney who invented the notion that it has to be happy, simply to make money”—vintage Allende)

After Pearl Harbour, all Japanese families are thrown into distant camps, maybe not as cruel as the ones the Nazis built for Jews, but just as traumatic for a proud and diligent race. Alma and Ichimei keep in touch through letters and the children’s friendship develops into a romantic passion that consumes them both,  but cannot end in marriage in those racially intolerant times.

While covering the lives of Alma and Ichimei and their families, Irina’s tragic past is also revealed, which prevents her from returning Seth’s love.  It’s heartening to note that most men in Allende’s book are strong, supportive, unselfishly devoted. Most of all Nathaniel, who puts aside his own life so that Alma can thrive. Even a burly black cop who makes a fleeting appearance, is wholesomely kind.

Allende is tempted to put in too many contemporary problems into the novel—from the WW-II concentration camps to illegal abortions, sex slavery, child pornography, homosexuality, the AIDs epidemic; even minor characters are given a back story—but they read like random notes the book could have done without, since the central love story is not given the attention it deserves. In spite of all the adoring adjectives used to describe Ichimei "a wonderful man, a sage, a saint, a pure soul, a delicate, considerate lover,” he hardly ever seems like a real person. At one point Allende writes that he is a fakir who can "control his pulse rate and his temperature” but this astonishing ability is never put to the test, though Ichimei’s training in karate (a bit of a Japan cliché; there’s a samurai sword too!) and his green thumb are emphasized.

In spite of its flaws, the book is very readable and highly recommended. It might goad the reader to look for Allende’s earlier books, some of which are beautiful, robust and magical.

The Japanese Lover

By Isabel Allende

Publisher: Atria Books

Pages: 336