

We open our mouths and out flow words whose ancestries we do not even know. We are walking lexicons. In a single sentence of idle chatter we preserve Latin, Anglo-Saxon, Norse; we carry a museum of words inside our heads, each day we commemorate peoples of whom we have never heard. More than that, we speak volumes — our language is the language of everything we have not read. Shakespeare and the Authorised Version suface in supermarkets, on buses, chatter on radio and television. I find this miraculous. I never cease to wonder at it. That words are more durable than anything, that they blow with the wind, hibernate and reawaken, shelter parasitic on the most unlikely hosts, survive and survive and survive.
It is a grey winter afternoon, glittering with car lights, street lights, gold, red, emerald, the black rainy pavements gleaming, the shop windows glowing Wagnerian caverns. Gordon, talking, sees and takes note of all this. He talks of events that have not yet come about and sees light and texture, the kaleidoscope of fruit outside a greengrocer, the mist of rain on a girl's cheek. A newspaper kiosk is a portrait gallery of pop stars and royalty; the traffic glides like shoals of shining fish. And all this will go on, he thinks. And on, and on.A note about the title -- I had no idea what the reference was, until I got to the middle of the book, Claudia's time in Egypt with Tom. A Moon Tiger is one of those green mosquito coils that we used to burn when camping; here it is a perfect metaphor for memory and Claudia's narrative of the past. The Moon Tiger burns beside the bed while she and Tom make love and spend hours talking about their lives, both past and possible future. When they finally drift off, "the Moon Tiger is almost entirely burned away now; its green spiral is mirrored by a grey ash spiral in the saucer." This image suggests to me that through the historical lens, the green and living experience of the past is turned into a pale imitation of itself in the retelling. Or perhaps it is suggesting that the possibilities of a happier life for Claudia had been burned away in Egypt with Tom's death. I am sure many more interpretations could be added.
I enjoyed Consequences when I read it; that's what made me want to continue reading her work. However, I've found that Moon Tiger has stuck with me more, and that I have really been reflecting on both the issues that Claudia brings up and the style in which Moon Tiger was written.
It's similar; they are both about a family of women, and the sweep of history over the 20th century and how it affected very particular individuals. The style of Moon Tiger is less straightforward than Consequences, in that it does not move chronologically, as well as slipping in and out of first person and third person narrative (quite effectively). And with Consequences, we are following quite a number of people through generations; Moon Tiger is all about Claudia! But they were both great reads.
Other Views:
Dorothy at Of Books & Bicycles discusses some themes
It sometimes seemed to Molly that the library was a place of silent discord and anarchy, its superficial tranquility concealing a babel of assertion and dispute. Fiction is one strident lie-- or rather, many competing lies; history is a long narrative of argument and reassessment; travel shouts of self-promotion; biography is just pushing a product. As for autobiography... And all this is just fine. That is the function of books: they offer a point of view, they offer many conflicting points of view, they provoke thought, they provoke irritation and admiration and speculation. They take you out of yourself and put you down somewhere else from whence you never entirely return. If the library were to speak, Molly felt, if it were to speak with a thousand tongues, there would be a deep collective growl coming from the core collection up on the high shelves, where the voices of the nineteenth century would be setting precedents, the bleats and cries of a new opinion, new fashion, new style. The surface repose of a library is a cynical deception.
There are so many shadows in this room, she thought. Candlelight creates a further dimension. No wonder people used to believe so fervently in ghosts. Space seems suggestive, packed with possibility. It's Caravaggio as opposed to David Hockney. The Fulham kitchen had become a glowing cavern, its mundane furnishings muted, turned into vague murky shapes. The light picked out faces, hands, the red intensity of wine, the white cascade of wax from candles. Everyone had acquired a new presence; Lucas and Simon were craggy Hogarthian characters, Ruth was romantically pretty. When you can't see things clearly, thought Molly, they are open to interpretation. What is that shape in the corner? The small dark blob on the dresser shelf? What elegant hands Lucas has.
Mmmmmmm. Tea. As I just saw on a colourful poster, "Tea: Crack for Vegans". ;)
It's a really long starting place; I'd probably try one of her short story collections like The Little Black Book of Stories first to see if you like her style. Or Possession, which I still preferred to this book, even though I did find this one absorbing.
gnoegnoe said...
I'm curious about the A.S. Byatt book. Is it anything like Possession or something completely different (and how so)? I guess it's about books again?
Bart's Bookshelf said...
Ooh, I've got Knife in my TBR pile and read good things about it. I'd like to ask, what you thought of the other fairy characters in this book.
I enjoyed the way all of the characters were individuals in this story. Bryony, who becomes Knife, is a strong lead, but there are also other fairies who are quite different from her in personality. Thorn, the Queen's hunter who takes Knife on as an apprentice, is a tough talking, straightforward kind of gal. Wink, Briony's foster mother, is a meek and rather scatter brained individual who is nonetheless eminently loveable. There is even a faery librarian who is quite protective of her books :) Each character fits in to the parameters of the world that's been created but it is not a homogeneous community despite the fact that the Oakenwyld is made up entirely of female faeries.
This story has a light tone, but with some serious issues (loyalty, bravery, independent thought, responsibility to one's community, etc.) in the plot as well. As mentioned, it is aimed at middle grade readers, so it doesn't have a sense of darkness or sexuality; but it is still dense with ideas and a well developed romantic storyline so that adults will enjoy it as well. (at least this one did!)
Eva said...
One more question!What did you enjoy most about Faery Rebels? There are so many YA faery books right now; did this one stand out?
I loved this one for the characterizations and the use of the traditional idea of fairies as little tiny winged creatures living alongside us. And then the breadth of the world created from that kernel of tradition. The writing was also excellent, smooth and well constructed with no awkwardness.
thedarkinthedark said...
It looks from the page you link to that the cover for Knife is way cooler than the other. Which do you feel portrays the book more accurately and why?
But here are a few other opinions:Simon was suddenly realising: I'll never have enough time to read all the books I want to. Even if I read every hour, every day of my life and if I took breaks only to eat and sleep enough to keep me alive... I'd still never read everything. There were too many novels out there. They stretched into infinity and usually he would find that thought consoling ('I'll never run out of stories to distract me! To fill up my time!') but today the thought of reading and reading and never getting to the end; of never really getting anywhere... this thought actually made him shiver.
US Cover