Wonder words

Wonder Boys

By Michael Chabon

Loving a book and then watching the film adaptation is like setting yourself up for a fall, isn’t it? So why not do it the other way round? I love Curtis Hanson’s movie Wonder Boys, and have done since the first time I saw it years ago. I sprung it on a group of friends, all of whom hated it. But I didn’t give up, and have watched it once a year or so ever since.

I always knew I wanted to read the novel on which it is based. Wonder Boys is, after all, a story about novels, writers and stories. Delving only deeper into this narrative, in the way it was originally conceived could only be a good thing. And indeed it is. Michael Chabon’s excellent novel is a sort-of literary screwball comedy. Where American Pie is dumb and dirty, Wonder Boys is dumb and dirty, but with a kind of grace. Chabon manages to drive forward his lumbering plot with pace and wit – and plenty of teasing. The story follows a creative writing professor and novelist, dreading the visit of his editor because his new novel simply isn’t ready. In fact, it’s sprawled into a 2,000-page mess. The editor arrives on the weekend of a literary festival, during which our hero becomes embroiled in all sorts of mischief along with his editor, two students, his in-laws, his lover and her husband.

The novel is perfectly conceived: taking place over one hectic weekend, it is exciting; that the weekend in question is when many things fall into and out of place for our hero is the real treat. We see a man demolished, systematically, by others but mostly by himself. We love him throughout and certainly, as he realises his folly and slips into emotional humility, at the end. This is a perfect novel.

The second chance

The Fourth Hand

By John Irving

Irving’s awful A Son of the Circus burnt me. Although I loved several of his previous books, I steered clear for years. A one-dollar price tag on a copy of The Fourth Hand was enough to lure me back – and thank heavens it did. The novel is a triumphant study of redemption that features a cast of endearing and despicable  characters. The plot hangs together much better than those of some of Irving’s earlier works and the characters feel much more real. While critics of Irving could slate him for creating inauthentic, comical characters just to have someone to mock, he has silenced them with this book.

The story follows Patrick Wallingford, a television journalist and playboy whose hand is bitten off by a lion, an event that changes the course of his life and sets the seeds for his ultimate return to humility. Along the way we meet his hand transplant doctor, whose idiosyncrasies are well conceived and often hilarious, Wallingford’s various lovers, and the wife of his hand donor. Irving’s trademark is the creation of hyper-real situations and, while he will not disappoint fans of that here, the set-pieces in this novel are perfectly grounded and genuine. Everything is slightly ridiculous, but never once over the top – not even the sentimentality.