August, and the only prize that matters has rolled round again, kicking, screaming, blowing the odd raspberry and generally making a spectacle of itself. While the Man Booker judges champion their favourites in secret, arguing for this book or that behind firmly closed doors, the Not the Booker panel has to do its espousing right out in the front yard - that is, in the reader reviews.
Ewan Morrison's Tales from the Mall - now on the nominations list despite a flurry of controversy over whether it was, in fact, a novel - had been reviewed an impressive 33 times at the point of writing. The book, says lwaddell, "presents a comprehensive look at an increasingly prominent urban space that has been, until now, under-examined in fiction … [it is] ultimately a sad commentary on the current priorities of a society which favours plastic wrapped, infantilised consumerism over neighbourhood and community." LornaJWaite calls it "a dazzling, rigorous analysis of space, place, economics, visual design and advertising but also a compassionate listening and retelling of the experience of working people, gleaned from oral histories and interviews with mall workers," and credits it with "a structural and textual integrity like Scottish granite with a layer of bejewelled quartz." Yowzer! If that doesn't make you read it, I don't know what will.
justwilliamsluck has provided us with a paean to another nominated book, Keith Ridgway's Hawthorn and Child. "The combined narratives of each chapter satisfy on their own in the same way that an unresolved short story can," he says. "The fact that there is not one but several of them and that they all inhabit the same world and share some of the same characters is what actually made the book such a success to me. So good that I read it twice. And now I can't wait to see what Ridgway will produce next. He's joined my list of must-read writers." So, a fan! And he's in good company. This is on my must-read list too.
And finally, what the Not the Booker's for: introducing you to great-sounding books you'd never otherwise have heard of. MerysAch's review of The Heat of the Sun by the oxymoronic David Rain is marvellously tempting. "A friend once told me she felt envious of anyone reading a certain classic American novel for the first time, as she knew they had that wonderful story ahead of them, just waiting to be discovered," s/he says. "The Heat of the Sun leaves me with the same sentiment. Once finished it brings that bitter-sweet feeling of satisfaction at finishing the book, while knowing I will miss the characters tomorrow." Sounds like the perfect summer read.
If we've mentioned your review, mail me on sarah.crown@theguardian.com and I'll send you something excellent from our cupboards. More next week; thanks again, meanwhile.
