Morvern Callar

Rating:
Summary: A Distant Portrait
Review: Another in the wave of new Scottish fiction that has followed in the wake of Irvine Welsh's success. Like "Trainspotting," this is a slang-laden, drug-assisted look at a modern Scottish youth--although in the country (Oban) and not the city, and the drug is ecstasy, not heroin. The Morvern of the title is a 20ish supermarket employee whose steady boyfriend has just committed suicide. Instead of reporting the death she covers it all up with great composure so she can use his bank account and pretend that he has left her. At first we get the some rather ordinary exposition of her and her friend partying and whatnot. Then a trip to a youth resort in Spain with all the attendant debauchery--sex, drugs, and raves--is given. It's very clear that her life is bleak, and she's out to grab what little pleasure she can. (A great non-fiction book which gives insight into how people like Morvern come into being is Nick Danziger's "Danziger's Britain.") It's a bit hard to identify with a character so totally alien to me, especially as the reader is not allowed into her head, and it's a bit hard to tell exactly what its all supposed to accomplish. I suppose the reader is supposed to key into the themes of alienation, confusion, running away, and soforth, but the deadpan prose somehow dulls one to the larger picture. Which is not to say it's bad writing, because it's actually quite good, but somehow the tone creates an emotional distance between the reader and Morvern. It might be one of those books that women are more likely to connect with. If so, the story continued is "These Demented Lands," which is even less compelling. Best to pick up Warner's "The Sopranos" instead.

Rating:
Summary: A Distant Portrait
Review: Another in the wave of new Scottish fiction that has followed in the wake of Irvine Welsh's success. Like "Trainspotting," this is a slang-laden, drug-assisted look at a modern Scottish youth--although in the country (Oban) and not the city, and the drug is ecstasy, not heroin. The Morvern of the title is a 20ish supermarket employee whose steady boyfriend has just committed suicide. Instead of reporting the death she covers it all up with great composure so she can use his bank account and pretend that he has left her. At first we get the some rather ordinary exposition of her and her friend partying and whatnot. Then a trip to a youth resort in Spain with all the attendant debauchery--sex, drugs, and raves--is given. It's very clear that her life is bleak, and she's out to grab what little pleasure she can. (A great non-fiction book which gives insight into how people like Morvern come into being is Nick Danziger's "Danziger's Britain.") It's a bit hard to identify with a character so totally alien to me, especially as the reader is not allowed into her head, and it's a bit hard to tell exactly what its all supposed to accomplish. I suppose the reader is supposed to key into the themes of alienation, confusion, running away, and soforth, but the deadpan prose somehow dulls one to the larger picture. Which is not to say it's bad writing, because it's actually quite good, but somehow the tone creates an emotional distance between the reader and Morvern. It might be one of those books that women are more likely to connect with. If so, the story continued is "These Demented Lands," which is even less compelling. Best to pick up Warner's "The Sopranos" instead.

Rating:
Summary: high hopes....mixed feelings
Review: Being an avid reader of all Irvine Welsh novels I was intrigued by Morvern Callar (being a recommendation book from the amazon.com scottish fiction library). Heck, there is a brilliant quote from Irvine right on the cover...I thought this would be right up my alley. Unfortunately it only meandered around the alley...the abrupt start throws you headlong into Morvern's life which was a bit bizarre as it becomes glaringly obvious that this book was written by a man who doesn't quite know how to write convincingly as a girl (the reader from Maryland has it right...enough with the baths). Aside from the [small] character glitch, the story is a smooth progression of random events and as my faith in the novel begins to rise it grinds to a screeching halt and I'm left with questions which go unanswered...as if Warner was getting a bit bored and decided to call it a day.

Rating:
Summary: Rural hedonism meets today's dance culture
Review: Morvern has a crappy wee job in the supermarket which she hates, she's skint but her blokes got a bit more dosh and so when he kills himself having jist completed a novel Morvern firsts hides his body in the loft and raids his bank account and then publishes his book under her name and lives the high life off the proceeds partying on the Spanish costas. Alan Warner has with this novel produced an update on Irvine Welsh's Trainspotting; the heroin culture in Scotland's inner cities is no more the drug culture has spread to even the most rural towns of Scotland but it has changed from the destructive heroin to the free love of ecstacy. We also see the ravages of society post-thatcherism; where Trainspotting's Rent et al knew they were a subversive element in society Morvern ill- educated and with weakened family links seeks only hedonism and doesn't view herself as the destructive element in society she is. Warner has a new novel published soon and I look forward to more from him and the rest of the rebel inc.crew.

Rating:
Summary: A lame attempt
Review: Novels compose a literary category which is supposed to tell stories not untold them. If the main topic of the novel is focused in the character it fails badly get into her mind and explain its workings. We never know which are the causes or reasons for her behaviour. Such detached reaction to the suicide of a steady boyfriend at least needs some background. Now, if the main topics is how the plot evolves, the author also gets a big "F minus". The rave scene is barely depicted, nor what was the purpose of having the suicide boyfriend writing a novel to be posthumously plagiarized by her, or what about her bizarre friendships, just to name a few of the carelessly untied knots.

Why the two stars then? Well at least to read a novel in which most of the written words are the names of music bands and their songs is original, but to my knowledge a multimedia novel is category that is not available here in Amazon.com nor anywhere. So unless you download the songs in your MP3 you also fails to see comprehend the forces that move Morvy.

Rating:
Summary: Maybe you should just see the movie
Review: The following is a synopsis of one of the scenes in _Morvern Callar_. It doesn't involve major characters and it doesn't reveal a plot point, but it does give something of the book's tone.

It's Hogmanay. The narrator and her social circle have gathered in a local hotel. Midnight passes, then closing time, so the police come to make them leave. One man buys several whiskies and wants to take them with him but the police won't let him, so he pours the whiskies down the throat of his fish, takes the fish outside, and drinks the whiskies out of the fish's mouth.

If that baffled you, you should probably skip the book entirely. In short, it's so Scottish it probably won't travel well.

Rating:
Summary: blokes can't 'do' women.
Review: When I picked up this book I had high expectations,seeing that it had received good reviews.It opened quite spectacularly as well, on a rather surreal note.But as I read on, I couldn't help wondering what the point was in this rather incoherent, rambling tale.The book seemed like a sloppy, haphazard collection of incidents that didn't make much sense or assist character development. The central character herself was unbelievable and I found it impossible to identify with her or understand her actions or even sympathise with her plights.It seems to me that the writer had tried too hard to create a hip,cutting edge story and the end product was strained and gimmicky. Some incidents were quite mirth-provoking, however,that's why I gave it two stars.

Rating:
Summary: Really...
Review: You almost never know what kind of impression something's left on you until you see how the same thing's effected - or not effected- someone else.

Alan Warner tempts a polarization of Albert Camus and Irvine Welsh, but only because of Welsh's notoriety and nationality, both of which might or might not disappear. But comparisons seem to falter with Morvern Callar - it's so dedicated to its influences and targets (whatever they are- detective novels, late 70's/80's rock, raves, scottish life), that it's difficult to single one out without pigeon-holing it, or worse, missing it altogether.

Anyone concerned with 'flat tones' should reread the scene where Morvern's bathing (yes, again) in a river with her best friend, Lanna, and hears that Lanna not only slept with Morvern's boyfriend right before he committed suicide, but used a number of positions and drank one of his condoms. Just before this, Morvern was hiding the boyfriend's body parts around the valley.

Morvern Callar's something that will outlast what it's being attached to now, and probably for the same reasons it's seen as paling in comparison, which are similar to the reasons that provide Morvern with such a strange, compelling, and vivid character - according to the layers of personality that unfold in her.