Reviews round-up

The critics’ verdicts on Peter Carey, George Dyson, and Judith R Walkowitz.

The Chemistry of Tears by Peter Carey

Writing in the Telegraph, Lucy Daniels is impressed by Paul Carey's deft treatment of the Victorian era. His 12th novel takes its inspiration from Jacques de Vaucanson's fraudulent invention of the mechanical duck and follows a modern-day conservator of London's Swinburne museum who becomes obsessed with recreating the duck from the original drawings, an allegory, says Daniels, for the author's craft as a historical novelist: "Carey is drawn to the age of invention; his stories are filled with them and exquisite forgeries. Storytellers and inventors have a natural bond: one character here is a collector of vicious fairy tales who has invented a washing machine. The novel itself, after all, is something mechanically produced." She praises the expert way in which Carey blends historical truths with myths, but notes that the book is more "subdued" in tone than the novelist's previous high-energy works.

Richard Davenport-Hines is less enthusiastic about the novel in the Spectator, questioning Carey's consistency: "There are first-rate scenes and characters from both narrations, but not invariably". Whilst some scenes delight, others are "drearier", he says. He too notices the "subdued" nature of the book in comparison to Carey's back-catalogue, but for him (unlike Daniels), this detracts from the overall narrative: "There are neat descriptions of lush German landscape, but none of the elating richness of Carey's spectacular Australia-based novels. Readers who revelled in his mid-life exuberance will find him at the age of 69 sombre and apprehensive".

"The Chemistry of Tears" will be reviewed in a forthcoming edition of the New Statesman.

Turing's Cathedral by George Dyson

George Dyson's attempt to throw light on the invention of the first computer is well received by Evgeny Morozov in the Observer. In 1945, polymath named John von Neumann helped set up the Electronic Computer Project at Princeton's Institute for Advanced Study, already a hotbed of scientific talent. Indeed, Morozov recommends that "Dyson's book is worth reading for its treatment of the institute's early history alone". A comprehensive account of the conditions under which von Neumann was working is provided, says Morozov, as Dyson gives "ample social and cultural context". Yet despite this, Morozov criticises the book for being weighed down with painstaking theoretical detail: according to Morozov, "Dyson ... bombards the reader with a mind-boggling stream of distracting information that adds little to his tale" and sometimes "makes mystical claims that no serious historian would endorse".

Writing in the Telegraph, Manjit Kumar also suggests that Dyson's work is swamped by technicality: "Faced with the tricky task of balancing technical details with keeping the narrative accessible for the non-computer buff, Dyson ends up probably not giving enough detail to satisfy the aficionado but too much for the lay reader." Nevertheless, Kumar is generally satisfied with the book: "Turing, Von Neumann and their colleagues may have let the genie out of the bottle, but Dyson has done the difficult job of reminding us of how much we owe them and how far we have come in such a short time".

Nights Out: Life in Cosmopolitan London by Judith R Walkowitz

In the Independent, DJ Taylor tempers his praise of Walkowitz's attempt to present a diverse array of Soho stories that typify the area's history, highlighting the significant case studies that have been missed out: "There is very little about the sex trade ... not a great deal about organised crime, and nothing at all about the area's long-term function as a kind of sub-branch of the literary world's ground-down Bohemian end". Although he concedes that "Walkowitz's forte ... is the case study and the Soho recreation that reflects some wider trend", Taylor is put off by Walkowitz's tendency to stray into "academic cipher": "Where she stops being informative and becomes unintentionally hilarious, on the other hand, is in her use of jargon".

In this week's New Statesman, Sarah Churchwell also picks holes in the book, noting that Walkowitz spends little time examining the area's queer history: "she by no means ignores the gay experience, but surely such a definitive aspect of the district's history should not be elbowing for space". She is, however, less critical of Walkowitz's language, claiming that her "scholarly lily-gilding is, happily, infrequent".

Peter Carey. Photo: Getty Images
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“Minoan pendant”: a new poem by Mark Granier

“Yes – I press my nose / to the pleasantly warm glass – / it’s a copy of one I saw / cased in the cool museum”

Yes – I press my nose
to the pleasantly warm glass –
it’s a copy of one I saw
cased in the cool museum –
gold beaten to honey, a grainy
oval dollop, flanked by two
slim symmetrical bees –

garland for a civilisation’s
rise and collapse, eye-dropped
five thousand years: a flash
of evening sun on a windscreen
or wing mirror – Heraklion’s
scooter-life buzzing and humming –

as I step in to browse, become
mesmerised by the warm
dark eyes of the woman
who gives her spiel and moves
softly and with such grace,
that, after leaving, I hesitate

a moment on the pavement
then re-enter with a question
I know not to ask, but ask
anyway, to hear her voice
soften even more as she smiles
and shakes her hair – no.

Mark Granier is an Irish poet and photographer. He is the author of four collections of poetry, most recently Haunt (Salmon).

This article first appeared in the 16 June 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Britain on the brink