Review of The Swiss, The Gold and The Dead by Jean Ziegler (Penguin, 1997)

Switzerland, despite being neutral, played an important role in the Second World War. A very profitable role. Through both its national and private banks it helped finance the Nazi war machine by laundering German and looted gold and allowing them to purchase much needed raw materials from other countries. Manganese, tungsten, chromium, iron ore and diamonds, all essential for armament manufacture, and oil vital for logistics, all had to be bought on the world market and imported, in a market that shunned the Reichsmark but welcomed the Swiss Franc. The Swiss also allowed the Germans to re-arm and transfer troops in Italy using the Swiss rail network, and they actively refused entry to refugees fleeing from all over Europe for sanctuary, handing them back into the hands of the Gestapo. After the war, Swiss banks made it all but impossible for the relatives of those whose assets were stolen and lodged in the country to be retrieved, holding onto them for their own gain.

Ziegler’s book documents these issues and sets them in the context of Swiss history more broadly and the period of the war. It is somewhat odd book in terms of its structuring and tone. The book seems to jump around an awful lot and it could have done with some restructuring and consolidation. The first chapter labours the point about the Swiss facing up to the decisions and actions of the previous generation, forwarding a moral line. This is revisited throughout the text and really seems to be overdone. And yet, the reason for such caution and explanation is revealed in the afterword. On September 20th 1998, Ziegler – a Professor of Sociology and five time elected official of the National Council of the Swiss Confederation (and subsequently appointed to the UN Human Rights Council) - received a communication from the Swiss Federal Prosecutor’s Office informing him that he was being charged with ‘treason’ infringing the ‘independence of Switzerland, and promoting foreign undertakings directed against the security of Switzerland’. Writing and talking about the history of Switzerland can clearly be a fraught undertaking, especially when many – including very large and powerful banks who fear having to return gold reserves – want that history suppressed and forgotten. In that sense, Ziegler’s book is an important one. Given the relatively limited sources he had access to, and the moral and ethical landscape he was trying to operate in, it would be good to read another, more up to date account. This is an interesting starting point, though not always for the right reasons.

Being used as a chat-up line

I visited a friend on Sunday on the way back to the airport. His brother was also visiting. He told me the following story. He’d been on a train in Britain, sharing a table with a couple of young women who turned out to be Geography students. He asked if they knew my work, which they did. He then regaled them with stories of our time in youth club. He ended with the punchline – ‘You were a great chat up line’. There is something very odd about being used as a chat-up line. I’m not sure what. Personally, I can’t believe that it would work. ‘I know Rob Kitchin, do you fancy a date?’ ‘Er, no thanks.’

Review of Still Life by Louise Penny (2005, Headline)

Jane Neal, an elderly spinster and friend to everyone in the village of Three Pines in Quebec, has been found dead on a deer trail through a copse. She’d been felled by an arrow that passed straight through her chest. The hunting season has started and it’s not clear whether the death is accidental or deliberate. Chief Inspector Armand Gamache of the Surete du Quebec has been assigned to the case. Three Pines might appear idyllic, but Gamache soon uncovers tensions and secrets amongst its inhabitants. What is not at all clear is why anyone would want Jane Neal dead.

I picked up Still Life by Louise Penny whilst in Montreal. It’s opening novel in her Chief Inspector Gamache series. The book won the CWA New Blood Dagger in the UK, the CWC Arthur Ellis Award in Canada, and an Anthony Award in the US. The book is a modern twist on the kind of cosies written by Agatha Christie and her ilk, though a police procedural rather than an amateur detective. Cosies are not my favourite kind of crime novel and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get on with the story and its telling. The cosy feel lessened as the book went on, and the read was entertaining. Part of the story hinges on an unlikely coincidence, though the puzzle itself is clever enough, and Gamache is a plausible and engaging character. Some of the characters are a little clichéd and the character of Nicole seemed underdeveloped and her subplot doesn’t really go anywhere. Overall, a book that will appeal to readers who like their police procedurals with a cozy bent.

March reviews

A pretty varied month of reading. A Beautiful Place to Die and The Main were the stand out books and although there's not much to split them in terms of being interesting and entertaining reads, The Main shades it as my book of the month.

Spitting on a Soldier's Grave by Robert Widders **.5
Berlin at War by Roger Moorhouse ***.5
The Burning Girl by Mark Billingham ***
He Died With His Eyes Open by Derek Raymond ****
A Beautiful Place to Die by Malla Nunn ****.5
The Main by Trevanian ****.5
People Who Walk in Darkness by Stuart Kaminsky **.5

Review of The Big Short by Michael Lewis (Penguin, 2010)

In The Big Short Michael Lewis traces the lead up to the global finance crash by charting how a handful of people saw the crash coming and made a fortune betting on it happening. Lewis has an engaging writing style and uses both personal narrative and a focus on key individuals to draw the reader in and ground and localise what was a complex and somewhat opaque historical event. He succeeds very well in this regard and the book provides a compelling genealogy of the years immediately before the crash and some interesting insights into the psychology and internal politics and rivalries of Wall Street traders. For me, however, the book fell a little short. By pursuing a personal story narrative, Lewis tends to ignore the wider contextualisation of the crash - the politics and political economy of finance, especially in the US; the financialization of Western society; and the organization, globalization and interdependence of the finance system. More broadly, the economics and sociology of finance - on Wall Street, on Main Street, and on Acacia Avenue – is lacking; how and why property bubbles form and the pattern and logic of investments made. Moreover, the book is implicit in its moralising, failing in many ways to castigate all involved, including those that were shorting the system – they are held up and admired for their foresight in getting rich at the banks’ expense as they collapsed and were rescued. Rather than trying to stop the madness and heading off the impending crash by publicising their knowledge and going to the authorities, they bet on the crash happening even though they knew what the likely consequences of a crash would be, and they actively encouraged some of the madness by creating a new market for such bets (but they’d be wildly rich, so what did it matter?). Nor is there enough reflection on normative questions on how the system should be reconfigured and run; rather Lewis reveals some of the shortcomings, but leaves it to others to think about what should change. That said, The Big Short is a very engaging and compelling read, even if it does leave you shaking your head in frustration at the madness, arrogance and greed of Wall Street banks and the people who run them.

Lazy Sunday Service

I gave a reading to north Kildare crime book clubs last Tuesday in Leixlip Library. About 20 people turned up on the night, all of them women - which is an interesting tell on the membership of book clubs and, no doubt, the broader reading public (the picture right is not from the night, but one I borrowed off the internet). We had a pretty lively discussion that went on beyond the alloted hour and a half slot. The great thing about these sessions is that you learn a lot about about how people perceive your work and also you as a person and writer. You also get some interesting feedback on the stories themselves and also some suggestions as to how to improve them. Two ideas that I liked were about humour and character and subplot threading across books. I'll probably take those two up. Many thanks to those folk that did turn up and chatted away.

Posts this week:
Review of The People Who Walk in Darkness by Stuart Kaminsky
How useful is your work?
Planning permissions and planning debates
Cash or readers?

Cash or readers?

I'm visiting my brother in the North of England for the weekend. We've been in town shopping. I couldn't help ducking into two discount bookstores. The selection was limited and random, but I picked up Steve Mosby's The Cutting Crew for two pounds from one shop and a copy of Anarchy and Old Dogs for a pound from the other. A pound for a brand new book that actually had two pounds stamped on it in big letters on the front. I thought two pounds was a bargain. I always feel guilty buying books below cost as I want the author to be probably rewarded for their labour. I justify it to myself because I buy over 100 books a year, so a large chunk of my disposal income goes to authors and publishers, and I write a review of all books I read which might help persuade others to try their work.

Buying books at these prices got me thinking about authors and what is best from their perspective. I suspect that at two or one pounds the author is getting nothing or little in terms of recompense. So, is it best to sell fewer books but make more money, or to sell more books and have more readers rather than recompense? Cash or readers? I'd be readers, but then I'm trying to live off of book royalties. It would be interesting to get other views.