“MOW? STOMP: DAVID BEZMOZGIS Natasha and Other Stories

'J’flliitliar‘. flat/e,

The protagonist frerr‘ all these StUne’, is Mark Berrirarr. .‘xno eriaigrates frerr‘ l at/ia to Toronto .‘.’lill his parents at the (My: (A? ‘/,'.":ll. ill ‘Til‘: Second Strongest Man', the old and the new are sharply contrasted as a ‘.'/‘:l(}llllliff3l trained by Mark's father comes to r,oriipete in Canada. (if:(,’()llll)£lllli’:(f by a lll)lflllll()llfi KGB agent. The title story tells of Marks sexual a'.r‘i/akening and ultimate humiliation at the hands of his (L()llf;lll_ a new Russian irnrnigrant.

BCZTTICfl is

ffxrtellently written and quietly evocative. this book is peopled by recognisable characters and universal experiences. In his guest to evoke the struggle of life as a Russian .Jew in Canada. Be/mozgis has drawn upon the most poignant and emotionally scarring iiioriients from Mark's childhood and early adulthood. They're so haunting in therr simplicin that the only question that remains is why you would want to read something so depressing. iAnna Shipiiianl

NEW AGE HANDBOOK DONALD MCKINNEY Walking the Mist (Hodder Mobiusl

O

This IS drivel. in fact. it's worse. because drivel implies harmless gibberish. whereas this is the kind of pseudo- logical. wistfully happy- clappy new age rubbish that puts a lot of peOple off the idea of modern spirituality. Purponing to be a guide to Celtic

WON/W L) “(Fill if

spirituality for the I) ‘i st century. ‘.'./.'i/king the is rniiid—niirnbingl, boring, laughably in lone wrth its own f;f?l(:llli'\, and ‘.‘.rooll§,’ thinking of the highest order. Plus its links to any kind of Celtir: heritage are dubious, to say the least.

The author wrll no doubt accuse me of not allowrng my mind to he open to new ideas. In fact. the concept of a new spirituality is never more welcome than now, as people search for meaning in today's hectic world. It's Just that (:r’umbling fennel biscuits around your home. talking to faeries and washing your crystals in a bubbling burn are not the answer. l/i/a/krrig the Mist? Taking the piss. more like.

(Doug JOHHSIOHOl

SCIENCE- l-ICTION GARY GIBSON Angel Stations lTorl O...

Serence fiction often takes a terrible pasting from the riiainsti'eaiii for being geeky and gadgety. but when IIS done well it can knock spots off regular fiction for tackling big ideas. This is Glasgow writer Gary Gibson's debut novel and it tackles the biggest ideas there are —- the meaning of life. the eXistence of God and does 80 With conviction and Cunning in a twisting plot of page-turning fen'OLir‘.

The Angel Stations in Question are ancrent relics used for transponation, floating in

yttrium/(Kw a? 'o and Tai‘r‘aiw” 'l 1%.: /.‘,H/‘( t)»: ‘a , ex/ielrer“ :r’i’t‘.‘ "‘. genie frorr‘ 1 real talent.

“NIH” ‘J, dirty/Pig

Hr Ill/«Niki we; . s r: MATT TH RNE Cherry

i\‘.r’eidenfe|r: N ::« iia n,

Matt lhor‘ne's signature str‘ipi)erl—(lo=.'.rri prose. allusions to modern media and eonteinr)or‘ar’y setting all nod to his New Puritan manifesto. the [)ogme

style rules for lltliltfll. The

result is yet another book that is (:ornpulsively readable. intelligent and satirical Without being burdened by pretension. As the

title suggests. his guiikilfi.

poignant sixth novel explores the l< ss of innocence and l(f(}£1i|f;ll‘ which provokes a desperate need for fantasy and illusion. Steve is an English teacher who doesn't read books and who's made more alien to himself and others hi. being singie for 12‘ years. Cue Stexes perfect woman. Cherry

who disappears froii‘ the

narratrge, which than becon‘es wow and more surreal, t's difficult to be passionate about a book that has no redeeriiing characters but this is the point. Cher'r'i is a step, 0‘ a confused ano disilliiSioned ‘.'.Ol'l(f. a requien‘ for lost a‘trtiis;"‘

ALEX/mosh MCCALL SMITH The Sunday Philosophy Club .~~l- ~ 0000

Books

Sandy’s new heroine is another precious creation

It's impossible to separate a successful literary series from the hype clinging obstinately to it. After the acclaim and popularity that have been piled deservedly onto The No 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency and its five funny, compelling sequels, the creation of a second discerning female sleuth, applying her intuition to the corruption underlying cultivated Edinburgh, invites fresh assessment of Alexander McCall Smith‘s work.

Immediately distancing itself from the sleepy goings-on of the Botswana- set series, The Sunday Philosophy Club opens with a violent death. A young man falls from the gods of the Usher Hall, the distressing incident witnessed by one Isabel Dalhousie, well-heeled, middle-aged editor of the Review of Applied Ethics. Insatiably curious and uneasy about the received view that this was simply a tragic accident, Isabel embarks on her own investigation, aided by her niece‘s ex-boyfriend Jamie and the rigid Edinburgh morality of her housekeeper Grace.

As in McCall Smith’s previous work, the detective story structure is superfluous to wry humour, brilliantly observed exchanges between characters and gentle philosophical musings, even the title is something of a red herring. In one spare, elegant sentence, the author cuts right to the heart of a situation or character, and his new heroine is a rich creation. Most refreshingly, Isabel Dalhousie is no sexless Jane Marple. In a couple of scenes, her fastidiousness is playfully undermined by her privately lusting after the angelic Jamie. Like the amazing Precious Ramotswe, Isabel and her pals will doubtless have readers baying ravenously for another instalment. (Allan Radcliffe)

JAMES FLINT The Book of Ash oooo

'i'ii'ié'iirxix or ASH

I I I'lrul‘ r {, (.“

"I,'[),///'/ [1 /fi,"

4'- THE LIST 103