‘the fall of light’ and other things by sarah laing

As per my earlier The Luminaries review, this review was catalysed by my writing a review for our work website. It’s still in the works (I’m not so good at the concise two paragraph type set-up that our space constraints require) so here is my more verbose, more ‘just keep typing, it’ll make sense in the end’ review of Sarah Laing’s fantastic The Fall of Light.

the fall of light

I can’t decide if it’s a fantastic or tough year to be a New Zealand writer. I suspect it’s a bit of both, for many – the Eleanor Catton effect has to be a tricky beast. There’s got to be an afterglow on the entire book industry locally – but it also has to be a bit daunting, being shelved alongside the newly christened Booker winner.

That being said, as a book industry person and writer of words myself, I feel very much compelled to call attention to other fantastic kiwi releases of the last few months. Sarah Laing’s The Fall of Light is among my favourite reads of the year, and generally I like to think that’s fairly high praise coming from a bookseller. Laing initially entered the spotlight the same way that Eleanor Catton did – winning the Sunday Star Times Short Story Competition (one of the two biggest short story competitions in the country, certainly the one with the highest circulation of the winning stories).

Laing won in 2006, and at the 2007 award ceremony (where Catton took away top honours and yours truly came second in the secondary schools division), everyone took home a copy of her debut publication, Coming up Roses, a short story collection full of delicious tidbits. I won’t say too much on that title, since it’s been a while since I’ve read it and I don’t want to do it a disservice by being unable to pinpoint the exact bits of magic, but it’s an excellent collection, that much I can say confidently.

2009, and her first novel was released. Dead People’s Music was my favourite book of 2009, I think, and that’s some stiff competition – The Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood came out that year too, but the pages of Dead People’s Music are far more well-thumbed. The book is the story of Rebecca, a Wellingtonian avant-garde cellist and her exploits as a newly arrived New Yorker – along with two other parallel storylines of Rebecca’s earlier teenage years, and the Germany-to-New York-to-the Wairarapa saga of her late grandmother, fellow cellist Klara. I adore the book. Coloured perhaps by timing – I’d only recently returned from my North American adventures when it came out, capped off by nearly three months in New York – but even upon re-reads, when the experience and parallels aren’t so fresh in my mind, it’s a wonderful read, beautifully written and constantly engaging, with the changes between main characters and temporal periods keeping things fresh chapter to chapter.

But I’m getting off topic here. Earlier in the year, I discovered that Laing had a new novel coming out. Regular blog readers may recall that I’ve mentioned it on my ‘Magnificent Winter of Books’ posts – it was the last one I discovered, and the first one that I had the pleasure of reading, with the Random House reps being particularly wonderful with the AR copies for booksellers. So it was with great delight that I read The Fall of Light over Queens Birthday weekend (this review is SO overdue), AKA Briar’s birthday weekend – and what a wonderful present it was.

Rudy is the protagonist, and I have to say always impressed when an author gets in the head of the other gender in a convincing fashion. Obviously I’m speaking with feminine bias here, but I thought that his portrayal was top-notch. According to Laing herself, she did get her husband to consult on occasion, with him confirmed that yep, this sounds like a male voice, so evidently the approval comes from across the board. With the setting being Auckland, there was even more familiarity in the settings than in Dead People’s Music – quite jarring at times, when you read about someone going for coffee at Dizengoff, when you’re sitting just down the road! Not to mention the family home itself, location never explicitly specified, but I always sort of superimposed my dad’s house over the top (big, somewhat architectural, immersed in Waitakere bush), and with Sarah herself telling the gathered fans (yours truly included) at an authorly interaction/wine/nibbles evening last week that she’d based the location on Huia, I felt somewhat justified in my imaginings. Apologies to all non-Aucklanders, the past couple of sentences probably meant absolutely nothing. Suffice it to say, there are shades of home all over the book.

As with all of her writing, the conjuring of people and places is wonderful, and she is one of those wonderful authors who makes the somewhat ordinary (in this case, in the vein of suburban tragedy, a man nearing middle age losing his job, with his wife having left him, taking their daughters with her) – which is one of my favourite writerly talents. Don’t get me wrong, I love a well-executed plot-driven masterwork as much as the next person (haven’t I waxed lyrical about The Luminaries and Margaret Atwood enough?) but I also love stories that come to me relatively simple and perfectly formed, like a continuation of what makes a good short story. Some authors make the transition with varying degrees of success – I have many feelings about certain authors’ novels as versus their short stories, but that’s another post for another occasion – but she does it perfectly.

image originally at http://booknotes-unbound.org.nz/sarah-laings-the-fall-of-light/
image originally at http://booknotes-unbound.org.nz/sarah-laings-the-fall-of-light/

One particularly magical thing about Sarah Laing is that in addition to being a fabulous writer, she is also a graphic artist, and is behind the design of all three of her books’ covers (don’t quote me on that, but I believe that it’s true?). But TFoL is even more special – the book also contains gorgeous black and white ink-wash illustrations throughout, which add a whole other layer to the story and the reading experience, portraying Rudy’s near-death-experience influenced dream sequences. When I first read the book, I was so plot-hungry that I did somewhat skim over the images, apart from appreciating their gorgeous execution – but having had a more in-depth explanation from Sarah herself the aforementioned writer evening thing, I feel compelled to go back and examine the pictures more thoroughly in the context of both the book and what she’s described

I’ll probably post a link to my ‘official’ review when it goes up, but in the meantime, I urge all you folk to go get your hands on a copy now – it’s a lurverly trade/C format (unlike her earlier two which were released straight to B format but beautifully designed nonetheless), with pretty foldy bits and all that jazz. I generally far prefer a nice TPB to a HB, and this is no exception (can you see my book nerd showing?) – get it! And more than any other novel I’ve read recently, I seriously do beseech you to get a real copy rather than the ebook, because your Kindle/Kobo/Sony/whatever just won’t do the illustrations justice.

I also feel the need to mention her comics – I thoroughly recommend checking out her Let Me Be Frank quartet, which you can (I think) find out more about over at her wordpress blog – also entitled Let Me Be Frank. I picked up #3 and #4 at the soiree thing last week, and they are both fantastic. Enough to make me seriously think about buying Metro magazine a lot more often, in part just for the comics… hop to it, and investigate it yourselves. Her next publication is, all going to plan, a graphic novel about Katherine Mansfield and herself, and having seen a few initial sketches and draft panels, I’m very excited. I mean, it’s basically a law to be a Mansfield fan as a Kiwi writer, so I’m just living up to my expectations, right? Right?

2013 and the winter of the magnificent book releases

Interrupting the regular poetic and health related programming to bring you a bit of what this blog was originally intended for – BOOKS. Today I realised that yet another of my various favourite authors has a book coming out this year, just to add to my literary excitement of the months ahead. So, in chronological order, here are the upcoming releases that I am most excited about – the four new releases (one for each of the four coming months!) that are making 2013 my favourite publishing year in, well, years. And if there are any upcoming releases that you’re excited for, let me know in the comments!

The Ocean at the End of the Lane Neil Gaiman. June 18th.

Well, if you’re at all switched into the online literary world, you’re probably aware that Neil Gaiman has a new release that is so close I can almost taste it. His first marketed-at-adults book since Anansi Boys, no less. I haven’t managed to get my hands on a reading copy yet, sadly, but will be devouring it as soon as it arrives. Soon, soon… watch this space for an actual review. Initial thoughts – the title is wonderfully whimsical. When I first heard it, I was a combination of jealous and inspired. Page count looks to be quite short, which could mean two things, for the most part – it will either be small and perfectly formed, or it may leave me wanting more. Or both, I suppose. Only time will tell.

The Fall of Light. Sarah Laing. July 5th.

This is the release I only found out about today. Her first novel, Dead People’s Music, was possibly my favourite release of 2009 (reliving the kiwi experience of New York after getting back home through her words rather than mine… bittersweet). And I may or may not have one of those opportunities that booksellers do have, from time to time, to get my nose into it before the actual book hits shelves. It’s like Random knew it was my birthday this weekend (which it is, feel free to buy me books!)…

The Luminaries. Eleanor Catton. August 2nd.

I think this is probably the one I’m most excited about. Eleanor Catton is probably my favourite NZ writer of the moment (which is a tough call, especially with the Sarah Laing book on my plate at the moment, but still…) – and by moment, I mean ever since I read her first novel The Rehearsalwhich was released in 2008, and is absolutely brilliant. If you haven’t read it, fix this immediately. She is not to be trifled with, and if VUP do get a reading copy to the store soon, I will be so many different kinds of grateful, I don’t even know what I’ll do. Except, you know, read it, and squeal, and all that.

Maddaddam. Margaret Atwood. September 3rd.

And to wrap up my Amazing Book Winter, there is the new book from none other than the titan of the word, the mistress of my literary heart, the incomparable Margaret Atwood. She is, without doubt, my favourite, favourite author. Maddaddam is the third and final installment what is now the Maddaddam trilogy, which kicked off with Oryx and Crake in 2003. And which is, incidentally, probably my favourite book ever. Oryx and Crake and the follow-up The Year of the Flood were intertwined, but at the same time stand-alone novels, occurring over the same – or at least similar – time-frame, whereas it sounds as though Maddaddam is set after both of the other novels – so whether it will feel more like a sequel than its own entity remains to be seen, but you can bet your sweet bippy that I will let you know what I think. SO. EXCITED.

So that’s my four big releases, the books that’ll make this year worth wading through – what about you, o fine readers?