The Bat Tattoo

Let Me tell you something about Russel Hoban.

First off, he is dead and has been for a while. He was a very successful children's author long before he lowered his standards to write for adults. He was very popular in the 1970's and 1980's although he wrote well outside these eras.

Secondly, he wrote one of the 2 best books I have ever read in my life, that book is Riddley Walker and it is completely different from anything else he wrote.

Modern Readers with lists of triggers and fragile sensibilities would not enjoy any of his books.

One of the things he does that I like is to research his characters and their lives then bring that research into the narrative.

For example, one his characters has a "carrying book" that he carries when in show more public. That may not be the book the character is reading but its contents will provide a context to what is happening in the story.

He will mention in great detail the music playing in the background and where it fits in this cosmic accident we call reality. He will name objects and list their provenance. If anyone else did that you'd think they were being a pretentious wanker and a bore, but no he actually pulls it off and adds subtext to the narrative, he may do this several times in a story so you have these subliminal threads all going along sometimes in the foreground and other times in the background. Also in some cases from book to book. You could call them universal themes I guess? He creates intelligent, aware characters.

His books have sometimes been described and magic realism but I tend to think they are more "enhanced realism". There's no magic in this one. He ascribes contemporary personalities to concepts and ideologies and has conversations with them kind of ....

If you have't guessed already that I am a fan of his writing then I'll come right out and say it. He creates 3D stories and I love them. I haven't found another writer that does this in the same way.

And so to The Bat Tattoo. One of his later novels that carry his indelible method and rhythm. When you start you have no idea where the story is going or indeed if it is going anywhere at all. Ostensibly a story of two people at crossroads in their lives who both have a bat tattoo on their bodies. show less

That was the music in my head when I left the Coliseum. and with it came Psalm 137 and my remembered Zion. The rain had stopped, and after I crossed St Martin's Lane in the intervals between taxis and was once more in the darkness of Cecil Court I saw again the afternoon sunlight on the wind-stirred grasses of Maiden Castle. How shall I sing the Lord's song in a strange land? I thought. But then, really, that's what life is, isn't it: a strange land.

This is the second of this author's books that I have read, after the wonderful post-apocalyptic tale, "Riddley Walker". It is the modern day tale of a middle-aged man and woman, both widowed several years ago, who come together after coincidentally getting the same bat (a symbol of show more happiness taken from a Chinese vase at the V&A) tattooed on their left shoulders. It is a tale of art, loneliness, religious iconography, failure, erotica, mysterious millionaires, and an unfortunate obsession with crash-test dummies.

Highly recommended. show less

I haven't read enough of Hoban to know if there is such a thing as a typical Hoban, but I doubt there is. I find Hoban's work easy to read, his prose moves you along and he presents characters who seem consistent and convincing even though the situations they find themselves stretch into the realm of magic realism.

I wasn't overwhelmed by this book, but it was pleasant. Two middle-aged people, a widow and a widower, are drawn together by co-incidences and find they fit like two spoons. She is an antique-stall-holder he is a sculptor of crash-test dummy art, with a rich patron, and no real direction.

Nothing much happens.

Another late period masterpiece. May Hoban live forever. As usuall great observations on art, love and religion

romance,weird, surreal?

note to self. Copy from A.

Disappointing end.