The White Lioness

The White Lioness is a rather interesting novel in Henning Mankell’s Inspector Wallander series because the plot develops via two parallel strands, one set in the familiar Wallander setting of Ystad and the Skane region of southern Sweden and the other set in early post-apartheid South Africa. Gradually, these two threads are weaved closer and closer together until eventually the story becomes one and the action really moves up a gear.

On the hunt for the killer of a completely innocent woman, Wallander finds himself both hunting, and being hunted by, an ex-KGB operative who has been training a South African hitman in preparation for a high profile assassination and who has no qualms about using maximum levels of violence to preserve his own safety. In a fog-bound chase, Wallander practically loses his senses and goes to ground, hiding himself from colleagues who, concerned for his well-being are also on the lookout for him. Eventually, Wallander’s gambles pay off and he is able to close the case and transmit vital information about the assassination hit to South Africa . But all does not go quite according to plan and Wallander finds himself in a race against time to get the full message through.

The way that the double storyline and settings are brought together mean that this novel is always moving forward in interesting ways and allows the plot to unfold on multiple levels. Wallander is typically tortured by his own thoughts and failings. This is (of course) skillfully written and thoroughly enjoyable.

I Am The Secret Footballer

I first saw ‘I Am The Secret Footballer’ last Easter in a bookshop in Norwich but I only just got a copy of it (for Christmas). I was really looking forward to reading this supposed insight into the real world of top-flight professional football but I found the book somewhat disappointing, largely because the anonymous author really comes across as being obnoxious and arrogant. A lot of the book is taken up with stories of how, with the vast amount of money that he earned, everything was possible – there are tales of trips around the world, always involving expensive restaurants, champagne and women – but The Secret Footballer always try to slightly distance himself from the worst excesses (but rather unconvincingly). In the final chapter we find out that he is pretty much out of money and depressed but it is impossible to have much empathy with his situation given what has happened before.

Ultimately this is all rather shallow and superficial. It tells you little that you couldn’t guess at and, perhaps because of the anonymity, doesn’t allow any real connection to be made with the author. I’d be fascinated to know who he is though…

The Business of Dying

‘The Business of Dying’ is author Simon Kernick’s first novel. It was recommended to my wife by her father and has been sitting waiting for me to pick up for quite while (I was told I probably wouldn’t like it that much but should give it a try…). Basically, this is an example of what I would call an easy-reader. It’s an action/police/crime thriller in which the main character is both criminal and crime investigator (he’s a policeman who moonlights as a hit-man). So, there are a couple of story threads that are wound together as he investigates one set of crimes and then comes under the spotlight himself for his own crimes. Perhaps inevitably, the two story-lines end up merging together as his desperate run for freedom leads him to cast caution to the wind to pursue those that he is chasing.

I’ll certainly read more of Kernick’s books (there are several waiting for me in the house already) but I won’t expect the depth of, say, Henning Mankell. Based on this first example, I think Kernick is the sort of book I would take away as a holiday read.

Alex’s Adventures in Numberland

Alex Bellos’s ‘Alex’s Adventures in Numberland’ is a marvellous book about mathematics, recommended to my elder daughter by her GCSE maths teacher last year. She didn’t read it, but when I saw a copy in the local Oxfam shop I grabbed it and, now having read it, am so pleased that I did. I can see absolutely why an inspirational maths teacher would recommend this book to his pupils although I can also see why most of those pupils would not consider reading it!

The book is a really good overview of why maths is relevant, important, fun, inspiring etc. It’s the sort of book that makes you want to study the subject much further, just for the sake of doing so. I particularly enjoyed the section on the maths of gambling but all the topics covered were interesting. I definitely recommend this one.

Animal Farm

I first read George Orwell’s ‘Animal Farm’ 23 years ago but recently I’ve come across a lot of references to it in connection to cliques and power-struggles relating to an internet messageboard that I spend a lot of time on. So, it seemed like a good idea to re-read it and remind myself of the point it makes – basically that power corrupts and that the maintenance of power relies on the presence of a group who are willing to be led but insufficiently astute to rein in the excesses of their leaders until it is too late.

It’s an easy read; you have to suspend reality of course to allow the notion of a farm run by talking animals not to interfere with the message, but the message comes through clearly. But then, that’s what you would expect from a classic book.

Brain Rules

I read John Medina’s book ‘Brain Rules’ after accidentally stumbling upon a recommendation by one of my colleagues. They made it sound like an interesting and inspirational guide to the way that the brain works with specific relation to teaching and learning so it was obviously a book that I should read.

Much of the content of Brain Rules was familiar to me but it is simply set out and not over-complicated so it provided an easy to read reminder of some points that I ought to be taking more notice of. Sections on topics such as memory and attention span were pretty stark reminders that lectures (which I give lots off) really ought to be designed taking into account the way that the brain works – for example, in 10 minute blocks with each block being on one point, clearly stated at the outset and then elaborated and reinforced.

I came away with a desire to take one of my lecture courses and to perform a complete re-design from first principles – I think this would be a very interesting process. However, in reality, time will probably only allow me to keep some of these ideas vaguely in mind as a general influence on the way I work.

The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets’ Next

After quite a gap from the second book in the series I finally got round to completing Stieg Larsson’s Millennium trilogy – The Girl Who Kicked The Hornets’ Nest. This one starts with the series’s ‘heroine’ Salander critically ill in hospital and Mikael Blomkvist having to show huge resourcefulness to continue his investigation into the secret group within the Swedish Intelligence Service including finding a way to enable Salander to be connected to her network of computer hackers. The ruthlessness of those trying to silence Salander soon becomes apparent and it is a case of everyone having to make careful judgements about who can be trusted and how to communicate with perceived allies. Blomkvist’s investigation reaches its peak just as Salander stands trial and the whole secret organisation tumbles to the ground as all of the loose ends within the trilogy are neatly tied together.

I think I enjoyed the first two books in the series more than this one, perhaps because there was only really one possible finish to the overall story although there was one point in this book when I it seemed that events would take spectacular turn in a direction I was expecting. But in the end, the central characters avoided death and came out on top and all the ‘baddies’ got their come-uppance.

Critical Mass

Despite having come across a fair amount of the material before and it being perhaps a little too long, I really enjoyed reading Philip Ball’s book “Critical Mass – How One Thing Leads to Another”. This book ranges through a wide variety of topics, including economics, the spread of culture, social behaviour and traffic looking at how methods that are better known within traditional fields of physics are bringing new insights when deployed to explore these areas. The book has a strong basis in outlining the history of the development of statistical physics, phase transitions etc. which I found fascinating and made me wish that I was able to study physics now (with the benefit of experience) rather than over 25 years ago (when I knew almost nothing). It also covers a lot of interesting models that use individual agent-based models to capture the behaviour of the multiple interacting agents that make up many social systems (such as financial markets, traffic flows etc.) – just the kind of thing that I wish I could do…

Philip Ball is one of those writers who, when I read his work, I can sense a great command of English and a clarity of expression that makes the material flow off the page. As a bonus, one of the best things about discovering this book was the accompanying discovery that Ball has written quite a few more or topics that also interest me (Water, Patterns, Music) so I can tell that I’ll be working my way through his output over time.

Arctic Chill

Arctic Chill is, I think, the fifth of the Icelanic writer Arnaldur Indridason’s crime novels featuring Inspector Erlendur. I enjoy these novels but they tend to simply tell the story of a case investigation without having any particular subtlety or mystery. In this book, Erlendur is investigating the murder of a school-age boy who has an Icelandic father and a Thai mother. The focus of the novel is on the place of immigrants in Icelandic society, the potential for the murder to be racially motivated and the possibility that child abuse could be involved somewhere along the line. The story trundles along without twists and turns and in the end the case is resolved. It’s not one of the most gripping Indridason novel and I am finding that the further I get into the series of novels the less depth comes through. Having said this, Indridason’s detective and his assistants are good characters and there is something fascinating about the Icelandic setting.

A Life Too Short

Last week I finished reading “A Life Too Short” – Ronald Reng’s award-winning biography of the German goalkeeper Robert Enke. Enke was a top young goalkeeper in German football (at Carl Zeiss Jena and Borussia Moenchengladbach) before moving abroad to play in Portugal (Benfica), Spain (Barcelona), Turkey (Fenerbahce) and Tenerife before returning to Germany to play for Hanover 96. Whilst the footballing aspects of Enke’s life are interesting, they are really just the backdrop over which Reng describes Enke’s battle with depression – always simmering away but triggered most violently by the way he was treated during his time at Barcelona and his subsequent, rapidly curtailed, loan move to Turkey. Enke’s story is a cycle of ups and downs – (surprisingly) up at Benfica, down at Barcelona and further down at Fenerbahce, then slowly and surely back up again at Tenerife and Hanover before a final desperate spiral into irreperable self-doubt and darkness abruptly ended on the day that Enke walked in from of a train to end his life at the age of 32.

As noted above, this is an award-winning book, but it is not the writing as such, but the candid way that Enke’s life and his inner struggle is recounted (using his diaries which he kept so that one day he could write a book about his problems) – the story of the book, that makes it fit for an award. Reading about Enke’s career and home-life (“happily” married but losing a daughter, Lara, early in her life and adopting another, Leila, not long before he took his own), and in particular about the peculiar trials and pressures of being a goalkeeper, gives a sense that it is perhaps not surprising that even a talented top-level sportsman can suffer as Enke did. But the “story” and the issues are certainly transferable. There is one particular section, that describes how Enke felt about his work and the expectations that others placed on him, that seemed frighteningly like my own feelings about my work at times.

There’s no post-life analysis in “A Life Too Short”. The book tells the story of this tragic, flawed life and you know the way it ends from the outset. But then the end comes. The dark cloud descends and finally the pain is over, and no-one who is left behind, whether they knew Robert Enke or just heard his story or read the book, can really make sense of the life that was too short, but, sadly, in terms of its inner struggle, not at all uncommon.