Sleepless grips and never lets go until a harrowing, yet redemptive end that literally had me teary, no mean feat. And as I reluctantly read to the end of the short epilogue, wishing for more, I was struck by the sensation that this brilliant thriller succeeds exactly as did that classic film Bladerunner.

One of 2010’s best novels bar none. 4 stars.

• Mr Rosenblum’s List, by Natasha Solomons, has a cover prefiguring a novel of the sensibility of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society. And so it proves to be. After WWII, German refugee Jack Rosenblum begins compiling a list, his all-encompassing guide to assimilating in Britain. Battling prejudice and his past-obsessed wife, he risks all to make his mark in the English countryside. Solomons writes generously and quietly, building up a character-based story that holds its amusing charm throughout. But the central characters, whilst engaging, fail to grip, and this debut stays stuck in its smooth groove. 2½ stars.
• Gene Wolfe sits near the top of my science fiction firmament – his multi-volume New Sun, Long Sun and Short Sun series are amongst the most brilliant genre examples I’ve read. But in recent years his works have grown less compelling. Having skipped the last few, I felt I should read his latest, The Sorcerer’s House, and I’m most glad I did, though my overall assessment remains unchanged. In this outing, Wolfe is nothing if not ambitious. He tells this fantasy tale, the story of a likeable rogue squatting in a house that gradually reveals hidden aspects and weird occupants, through letters. Such a dangerous technique, the epistolary one, but Wolfe carries it off with aplomb and a savagely humorous style that requires constant reader attention. The plot itself unwinds into a standard fantasy trope but I loved the constant oblique twists. The end result is a quirky, fun read that never graduates to anything more serious, held back by the breezy mood. 2½ stars.

• The Face on Your Plate: The Truth About Food by Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson, a companion read to Jonathan Safran Foer’s masterpiece Eating Food
• I’ve been hanging out for Michael Lewis’s latest, The Big Short: Inside the Doomsday Machine
• Unlike many, I didn’t grow besotted with Yann Martel’s Life of Pi, but I sure am keen to try Beatrice and Vergil: A Novel
• My sole foray into crime fiction is Stuart Neville’s much-hyped The Twelve
• After almost but never quite reading Gene Wolfe’s last few unheralded novels, I’m determined to give The Sorceror’s House a go
• Elizabeth Kostova’s sophomore The Swan Thieves: A Novel arrives accompanied by mixed reports
• The Relentless Revolution: A History of Capitalism, by a historian I’ve never tried before, Joyce Appleby, matches a current interest of mine
• The Financial Lives of the Poets, by Jess Walter, is another novel set in the fascinating financial world
• Ditto Adam Haslett’s Union Atlantic
• James Hansen’s Storms of My Grandchildren: The Truth About the Coming Climate Catastrophe and Our Last Chance to Save Humanity promises to inform and inspire equally

• Wake by Robert J. Sawyer
• Julian Comstock: A Story of 22nd-Century America by Robert Charles Wilson
• China Miéville’s The City & The City
• Cherie Priest’s Boneshaker
• Palimpsest by Catherynne M. Valente
• The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi

• ‘What the Heck Are You Up To, Mr. President?’: Jimmy Carter, America’s ‘Malaise,’ and the Speech that Should Have Changed the Country is an intriguing single-topic book by Kevin Mattson, an Ohio historian. He tells the story of the critical speech given by Carter on July 15, 1979, covering the energy crisis causing petrol station queues across the country. As Mattson portrays the event, Carter’s sober speech about the problems arising from energy-guzzling American habits was at first highly popular but quickly gave rise to a dramatic backlash against the president, one that was later seen as the turning point in Carter’s loss in 1980 to Reagan. Mattson writes engagingly and his analysis seems sound to me. Especially ironic is the fact that Carter’s prognosis was correct then and is correct now. This book is recommended but only if you have an interest in the era.
• A South African friend insisted I read Spud, a comedic bestseller in that country, written by John van der Ruit. Written in diary form, it’s one of those ‘lives of a thirteen-year-old’ novels, akin to Bridget Jones. Though I dreaded the read, it turned out to be thoroughly absorbing in a light but clever way. Stylistically, think Alexander McCall Smith set in South Africa just after around the end of apartheid. The author has splendid control of pace and a vivid sense of imagination. Not earth shattering but would appeal to many.
• The Spirit Level : Why More Equal Societies Almost Always Do Better is an important book. Written by Richard Wilkinson & Kate Pickett, it postulates that many of a society’s attributes of healthiness – happiness, mortality rates, health, violence levels, etc., a whole heap of them – correlate staggeringly highly with that society’s level of inequality. Put bluntly, Sweden and Japan are much better countries to live in than America and Australia, because, so the authors claim, the first two countries have a far less divisive gap between rich and poor. The authors write clearly and convincingly, at least on the central thesis – the data, displayed with great clarity, seems to support their thesis. As to reasons why this should be so, I’m not completely sure of the notion that unequal societies breed resentment and psychological pressures that spill over into poor health and lowered morals. I’ve always felt that societal inequality is something to be battled and this book certainly reinforces my intuition. Highly recommended.

Last week’s movies:

• I saw Avatar in 3D, my first experience with this medium. It was a blast! The crisp storyline: on the baffling planet of Pandora, humans control the minds of synthetically created natives, and in this case a newcomer, crippled Jake Sully, penetrates the native society and becomes one of them, dramatizing the battle between humans and local people. Written and directed by the blockbuster star director James Cameron, it’s sweet, sweet magic from the opening frame: perfect plotting; fine acting, especially by Sam Worthington in the lead; breathtaking choreography and camerawork; seamless switches between animation and real human acting; a timeless if humdrum story with a moral. Writing about it somehow demeans the film; it demands to be experienced as a sensory and imaginative treat. I found myself breathless, muttering phrases like ‘this is reminding me how good film can be.’
• Catching up on 2009 movies missed on the big screen, I began with Katyn, directed by Polish director Andrzej Wajda, dramatising the murder of 12,000 Polish officers in World War II, an action ordered personal by Stalin in order to wipe out the Polish intelligentsia. For two generations this calumny was then blamed on the Nazis. Based on a Polish book, the film dovetails various stories, the most moving ones being of waiting women. The Polish actors are superb, the setting atmospheric, and the script tight. Why then did I find Katyn to have less impact than I’d expected? Perhaps because I knew the essence of the tale, perhaps because the ending holds no surprise at all, perhaps because the different character strands often peter out.
• Folks whose views I trust highly recommended Synecdoche, New York, penned and directed by the febrile Charlie Kaufman. And it did intrigue, as one would expect of a tale of a theatre director whose downward spiralling life prompts him to produce a Hollywood play about his own life, a project that quickly grows to absurd proportions. Themes such as capricious fate (there is much in common with A Serious Man), life’s purpose and storytelling run riot. Philip Seymour Hoffman is in superb form (when is he ever not?) and the rest of the cast works well. But the plot is a mess and increasinglyI  could not judge if I was meant to muse, laugh or cry. Nothing makes sense, even at a symbolic level. Most disappointing.
• Beautiful Kate, based on a US novel transplanted into an Australian bush setting, is the scripting and directorial debut of actress Rachel Ward. A worldly but damaged writer returns home to visit his dying father, tended by a younger sister, and in the process begins to unravel the family tragedy of years earlier. Ben Mendelsohn puts in a great performance as the son, as do Bryan Brown and Rachel Griffiths. The script is tight, the camerawork is lovely, and no sentimentality is dredged up to cope with the film’s dark secrets. Raw and demanding, it was an absorbing viewing.
• Of all this week’s films, the one to fill me with awe and tears was The Soloist. Based on a nonfiction book, the storyline is simple: a jaded reporter spots a former cello prodigy living on the Los Angeles streets and senses a story, but nothing turns out as the reporter wishes it would. The script and direction (by the impressive Joe Wright) rocket along, making no concessions with scene cuts. The nightmarish ‘down and out’ streets of LA are stunningly filmed. But what gives the film special impact are two riveting performances: Jamie Foxx is unforgettable as the saintly but disturbed music lover, and Robert Downey Jr. gives his best ever performance as the empty wise guy. This would have reached my 2009 Top 10 if I’d seen it last year.

Last week’s music:

• It Feels So Good When I Stop is an offbeat release from Joe Pernice, the brilliance behind the Pernice Brothers. It’s essentially a soundtrack to Pernice’s novel of the same name, with the added twist that he sings other people’s songs that are mentioned in the book. I love the Pernice Brothers’ honed melodic feel and bittersweet vocals, so I snapped this up despite misgivings. Tribute albums fade away so fast. And so it proved with this one. The first track is a lovely rendition of Plush’s ‘Found a Little Baby,’ this is followed by terrifically tuneful versions of ‘I Go To Pieces’ (Dell Shannon) and ‘I’m Your Puppet’ (Dan Penn & Spooner Oldham), then there a few increasingly twangy songs that are well executed but bland. Add in a mystifying, weird version of ‘Chim Chim Cheree’ and I experienced a sense of letdown. Beautifully done, yes it is, but hardly worthwhile in any fundamental sense

Current reading/listening/viewing:

• Another eclectic fiction mix: Parrot and Olivier/Peter Carey; Spud – The Madness Continues/John van de Ruit; Fever and Spear/Javier Marias; A Gate at the Stairs/Lorrie Moore; and The Long Fall/Walter Mosley. Nonfiction: In the Company of Crows and Ravens/John M. Marzluff & Tony Angell
• Music: The Blue Ridge Rangers Rides Again/John Fogerty; Logos/Atlas Sound; and Evil Urges/My Morning Jacket
• Planned movies: Bright Star and Up in the Air

New stuff to track down and then read/hear/see:

• Michael Lewis writes wonderful, smart books. The Blind Side isn’t one of his best but it was good enough to make me want to see the movie version, hopefully coming soon. Hope they don’t turn it into a saccharine flop
• I don’t know why but this book attracts me: A Good Talk: The Story and Skill of Conversation/Daniel Menaker
• Susan Linfield’s Washington Post review of Worse than War: Genocide, Eliminationism, and the Ongoing Assault on Humanity by Daniel Goldhagen is quite critical, but I’m immediately taken by the apparent scope and passion of the book.
• Spotted in a bookshop, another of those ‘existential How To’ books I’m a sucker for: The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything/Ken Robinson
• Still mulling over Testament: Paris/London/Keith Jarrett. More importantly, Freedy Johnston, sweet-tuned singer-songwriter close to my heart, has his first new release in nearly a decade, Rain on the City

• Robert Harris’s Lustrum is the second of two novels recounting the life of Roman philosopher/orator/lawyer/politician Cicero. Harris can write smoothly and entertainingly about any subject, modern or ancient, Lustrum being a good example. It’s an enjoyable and intriguing read, although the five-year period covered by this book is telescoped at the end, at which time the man Cicero sheds some of his heroic qualities, so I felt a trifle flat upon turning over the last page.
• Another fine writer, this time of nonfiction, is Tracy Kidder. I can’t say I’ve read more than a couple of his books, but I was drawn to Strength in What Remainsby the rave reviews highlighting both his narrative skill and palpable morality. And so the book delivers, in this story of Deogratias, who arrives in New York at age 24 with $200 in his pocket and not a word of English, after spending a horrific, long period dodging death during the Burundi massacres. Life in New York proves as difficult as life in Burundi. This is an artfully constructed work that somehow captures his subject’s feelings during events so harrowing they’re hard to imagine. The picture that shines through the author’s words is the hesitant, solid courage of Deo, who continues to suffer from hellish memories but somehow carves out a new, caring life.
• A few years ago, Barry Dickins – poet, raconteur, tabloid columnist and journalist, author of thirty books – received ECT shock therapy for acute depression in a Melbourne psychiatric clinic. Unparalleled Sorrow, his memoir of those days and the days after, is a freeform, irksome mess. Not easily recommended, it is nonetheless a rare, candid and penetrating glimpse into ‘the black dog’ and modern psychiatric treatment. The sadness that pervades every paragraph is hard to bear

Last week’s movies:

• Nowhere Boy is a small-frame drama accorded tremendous heft by tackling John Lennon before the Beatles came into being. I’m wary of biopics but this one sparkles throughout: a tight, unsentimental script; fine acting (Aaron Johnson as Lennon absolutely rings true); spot-on music of the times(including a marvellous studio scene of John, Paul and George recording as The Quarrymen)

Last week’s music:

• Waxing Gibbous/Malcolm Middleton – another witty, often morose but always intriguing release from Arab Strap founder Middleton. Songs vary from self-strummed ditties (I saw him live last year in this format, quite wonderful) to bombastic band pieces. Always the words hold centre stage and the best tracks (‘Carry Me’ and ‘Don’t Want to Sleep Tonight’) are moving
• The Century of Self/And They Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead - the first album by this independent American band that I’ve listened to and I’m grateful I did. Graced with two songwriters and singers (who sound best when singing or roaring together, Clash-style), they seem to me an individualistic mix of prog, stadium rock and punk. They don’t hesitate to include instrumental tracks and to experiment, but the wild, churning tracks are the ones that will stick in my head. A wonderful discovery.

Current reading/listening/viewing:

• My current reading diet is most varied. On the fiction front: Parrot and Olivier/Peter Carey; Spud/John van de Ruit; Fever and Spear/Javier Marias. Nonfiction: The Age of Wonder/Richard Holmes; The Spirit Level/Richard Wilkinson & Kate Pickett; “What the Heck Are You Up to, Mr. President?”/ Kevin Mattson
• I keep lending Colm Toibin’s Brooklyn to friends, must get it back (it’s just won the Costa award for best novel)
• Not much music on the go, need to stock up: It Feels So Good When I Stop/Joe Pernice and Logos/Atlas Sound
• Planned movies: Avatar, Bright Star

New stuff to track down and then read/hear/see:

• Animated action/sci-fi Avatarin 3D. The appeal comes from all sorts of directions: sci fi, a rarity these days; great graphics; novelty value of 3D; some fine reviews; and even political controversy (see this post and this onefrom Andrew Leonard). Jane Campion’s films always captivate, even the less stellar ones – Bright Star, her take on part of Keats’s life, has recently opened in Melbourne. Fresh from the triumph of Juno, Jason Reitman must be given a go with his new comedy flick Up in the Air, starring George Clooney. Stephanie Zacharek found it lightweight but the trailers seem genuinely funny, especially to a veteran airport denizen like me. Quite how The Roadwill translate from Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic masterpiece is hard to imagine but it’s a must-see. An intriguing documentary (see the NYT review) might not make the big screen here - In Search of Memory: The Neuroscientist Eric Kandel. Missed onscreen so wait for DVD: Where the Wild Things Are/Spike Jonze and Away We Go/Sam Mendes
• Belatedly, from Andrew O’Hehir’s deliciously principled ‘best of 2009′ list [add link], some movies I’ll keep an eye out for, unsure if I’ll even be able to get them here on DVD: Branson, Il Divo, The White Ribbon, and 35 Shots of Rum
• William Boyd has a reputation for intelligent thrillers but I gave up a few years ago after a few disappointments. Well, Ordinary Thunderstorms, whilst ending up on few 2009 Best Of charts, was recommended by a number of those ‘my favourite’ lists, and seems to have a classic thriller plot.
• Laura Miller of Salon has a column recommending a book a week. Heaven forbid that I should slavishly follow her advice, but I’ve always found her judgement to be good, and on December 28 she recommended two books as ‘captivating’: The Privileges/Jonathan Dee and The Unnamed/Joshua Ferris
• Two leftfield nonfiction books that somehow got my attention while doing ‘best of 2009′ reading: Worlds Made by Words: Scholarship and Community in the Modern West/Anthony Grafton; and The Great Cities of History/John Julius Norwich (ed.). Also Fantasy Freaks and Gaming Geeks/Ethan Gilsdorf
• In my quest for new rock music, three rather daring (I think) selections: Do Make Say This/Other Truths (see this post-rock band’s review on Pitchfork) and Self-titled/The Amazing. Just as much a leap in the dark, though I know some of her past music: Magic Neighbor/Lisa Germano. Someone I haven’t purchased for some time: Testament: Paris/London/Keith Jarrett. And for the voice, man: The Blue Ridge Rangers Rides Again/John Fogerty

In Transition, Banks is at his best stylistically, changing voices, capturing dialogue well, and riffing in full flight whenever he can. The plot twists and buckles, the author always in charge. The business of world shifting is handled evocatively and entirely plausibly. I haven’t had this much fun streaming through a smart, complex, plot-and-character-driven sci-fi blinder for years. Highly recommended.

• Stewart O’Nan’s Songs for the Missing
• Ward Just is a much-praised novelist virtually unknown in Australia – I’ll try his latest, this year’s Exiles in the Garden
• I hope the latest Ian Rankin – The Complaints, featuring a potential new series character - is better than his last rushed effort
• The Song Is You, a music-infused novel by an author I’ve never sampled
• The brilliant Denis Johnson’s attempt at noir, Nobody Move
• I Am Not Sidney Poitier, a comedy by a prolific, much praised American novelist, Percival Everett, new to me
• The Iron Heart by stylish local crime/thriller writer Marshall Browne
• Iain Banks’s near-future sci-fi thriller Transition
• James Ellroy’s hyperkinetic, mammoth trilogy closer, Blood’s a Rover
• Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking, my only nonfiction for the month

And a wonderful, unique book it is. The underlying concept is so bold as to be unbelievable, but Miéville renders it utterly real through the skill of his writing. Inspector Tyador Borlú lives in the rundown, European city of Besźel but in the same physical space, or rather, meshed together, is a completely different city named Ul Qoma. Citizens in either country learn to not see their opposing city members and a guardian group guards against a ‘breach’. At the start of The City & the City, Borlú investigates a woman’s murder, seemingly a routine crime, but quickly it becomes apparent that a cross-existence crime must have occurred.

The author’s prose is wild and poetic, his narrative control absolute, the weird place completely compelling. Given the amazing nature of the book’s world, there is tons of technical explanation to provide, and this is done at leisure and with great aplomb. The inspector is a wonderful character and the plot spirals into increased complexity and wonder. I was entranced from start to finish. While The City & the City is really only for sci-fi or fantasy readers, it comes highly recommended.

• George Williams in the Weekend Australian calls Iain Banks latest, Transition, seemingly a thriller-science fiction cross, ‘dark and stylish’.
• Ever reliable Age reviewer Andrew Riemer says Clive James ‘reveals admirable poise, erudition and authority, whatever the subject matter’ in his new The Revolt of the Pendulum: Essays 2005-2008.