Heather Evans Editorial

Well, that was short lived.

Like all summers, this one seemed like it would continue for the rest of our days. The freedom. The adventure. The lack of commitment to anything important. That feeling that you can take on the world as long as this idyllic time of summer persisted. We all regained the healthy amount of vitamin D from the sun that we had been lacking the rest of the year, and we are refreshed and reborn optimists. We were all Danny and Sandys, flying off in our car of dreams and happiness.

Alas, as Brian Adams still looks back on his summer of ’69, nothing can last forever. We all have to return to our own personal realities. And for all those Game of Thrones fans, winter has truly arrived.

I’m sorry to bring down that rain on you guys, but it is true. Look outside. It is quite literally raining. Our good ole’ pal Responsibility has come round like the Grim Reeper knocking on all of our doors, and we have to face the facts: summer is now over.

But, I had an absolutely fantastic summer. Initially, I did have a tough time. Finishing university was a bigger blow to me than expected, mainly because of the relished freedom I have been talking about.

Freedom can be terrifying, especially when you don’t know what to do with the vast quantity of nothingness you have to do. Without the structure and value of education being your backbone to all of your justifications and decisions, I felt completely lost. What the hell am I actually doing? Luckily, once I got over this fear of freedom, I now realise how amazing my position is. I can do whatever I want. The world is my oyster. I have so many plans I can now achieve and have achieved over this summer. The best thing is that this is not just limited to one season now. The rain may be falling, but nothing is holding me back from flying in that car…

Apart from the fact I don’t have a driving license (which is one of my plans I swear).

Anyway, this post is meant to be about how, since having this new found freedom, I have read a lot of books. Here’s a little list of the texts that I managed to read over this summer and my thoughts on them. Hopefully this will inspire some to keep reading throughout the wintry nights whilst maybe also guiding you towards books worth your while 🙂

The Magus by John Fowles (1965)

 As you can judge from the cover of this book, it is definitely a story that adheres to the unconventional. I picked up this text from a book exchange at Willesden Green tube station after seeing John Fowles’s name gleaming off the shelf. The Collector is one of my all time favourite books (hint hint: go and read it if you haven’t), so I thought I knew what to expect. Fowles is the king of the weird, disturbing, yet hypnotic narrative, this I know. However, I wasn’t prepared for the mind games this book has in store for its readers. I’m still in a tangled mess to whether I admired it or found it too painful a riddle to get through.

Following the character of Nicholas Orfe, a confessed womanizer and bitter pessimist, he decides to change the course of his life by taking a teaching job in Greece, leaving behind the only woman he has ever come to somewhat loving in his twisted, unsatisfied way. What he finds there is an individual called Conchis whom leads him into a well of psychological, mythological and emotional torment, changing Nicholas’ character in the cruelest way possible. I think that was the point anyway.

I think if you were to critically analyse this text, it contains fascinating themes of philosophy, history and mythology and challenges what it means to be human. However, if you are looking for a light read, this is not the book for you. I found myself repeatedly reading back sections to understand what the heck was going on, which arguably is testament to Fowles and his craft. You quite literally get lost in the maze of the book just how Nicholas gets lost in the maze of Conchis. It is probably because I didn’t give the book enough of my time but I simply didn’t understand the point of Orfe’s ordeal. For an intellectual read, perfect. But, just because the book is set in Greece does not mean this is a text to take to Corfu. There were moments of gold where I couldn’t put the book down, but this was relentlessly met with the wall of misunderstanding that I could not digest.

Rating: 6/10

Memoirs of  Polar Bear by Yoko Tawada (2014)

I know what you are thinking – who reads about polar bears during summer? My sister got me this book for our birthday in June and, well, I knew it would be a goodun’ and I couldn’t save it for the winter months. Oh, and I am so glad I didn’t.

Tawada’s book follows the narratives of three polar bears: a writer, a mother, and her son. Similar to Orwell’s Animal Farm, you forget that the narrative voice and world you are listening to is from an animal’s perspective as the emotions are so deep they feel like our own. Scrutinising our own society, this book investigates what human rights are, and should be, through evaluating our views on animal rights. Diving into historical themes of exile, the limitations of free speech in Russia and Germany, maternal madness and neglect, and capitalism and cruelty, these three individual stories that link to each other and the questions of our wider world are tear-jerkers. An utterly thought provoking read. Maybe we are closer to the animal kingdom that we dare to believe.

P.S – Can please someone else read this book so I can discuss it with you? Thanks.

Rating: 9/10

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins (2015)

The only reason I decided to read Hawkins’s The Girl on the Train is because I resent watching a film if I haven’t already read the book – because 99% of the time the book is better. I heard a mix bag of reviews about the film, so while I had the time when travelling Portugal I thought I’d give it a whirl.

To be honest, it was just a little uninspiring. The writing isn’t particularly ‘Shakespeare’ in its execution and I just didn’t care for any of the characters. They were all just a little bit annoying. Like, I didn’t even dislike one of them enough to think ‘Oh, Paula’s skills have really got me wound up here, bravo’. Nah. Despite the gripping sideline ‘You don’t know her. But she knows you.’, there is nothing gripping about the predictable story line or characters.

It did its job for a travel read, especially when boarding lots of trains yourself. Her style is easy to dip into, and classically you want to know if your theory is right regarding who did the crime (I won’t say what, I am not that devil who litters spoilers), so I read it fairly quickly. That doesn’t mean it was good though; it just meant it was predictable. It killed some time and miles. Unfortunately, I am going to use one of my most hated words. It was just distinctly mediocre. Nothing beyond average.

Rating: 5/10 

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (1892)

Finally, I actually managed to read Doyle’s iconic stories of Sherlock and Watson. I know I have just stated that I begrudge watching anything before reading its literary counterpart, but of course I have watched the BBC’s Sherlock. Who couldn’t? If I hadn’t, it certainly would have been ruined for me by the whole country, and I would miss out on Benedict. No one deserves that.

So, I let my principles slide. However, Doyle’s creation was on the syllabus for one of my modules at university (huzzah), so I could actually read it without guilt. Nonetheless, I don’t claim to have been the best student, and with Doyle being the final book covered on the course, my assignment got in the way of my genuine interest. Luckily, I did manage to read it over the summer during my internship.

You already know it is brilliant. Doyle’s writing is sharp, witty and electric just like Sherlock himself, and I would recommend it to anyone. With the individual adventures being split into digestible chunks it is an ideal book for commuters, which I found great when I was reading about London locations on the tube itself. It is a text which you can just dive into and, unlike Hawkins, all of the tales have unpredictable endings. Although I knew some of the outcomes from the TV show, it still was as engaging and humorous as hoped for. Of course it is written in a Victorian style, which could possible put readers off,  but I think that if you like the TV show and can follow Sherlock’s way of thinking, you would definitely be able to keep up with Doyle’s words.

Rating: 8/10

Anyway, here you have it. This is what I got up to reading this summer, and hopefully you might take up reading either Sherlock or Memoirs of a Polar Bear. Especially as it gets towards colder months, I don’t know what book could be more fitting.

Happy reading – hopefully I will find some crackers of books to tell you as we approach Christmas! Get it – crackers?..

Love, 

Hev xo