Ted Curtis By Theft and Murder (2003)
The author warned me that this one might not be entirely to my liking, although it was admittedly a vague warning based on his own reservations about the book. I bought it anyway, because Ted Curtis is honestly one of the best writers I've ever been lucky enough to know in person and I had assumed the warning would be mostly authorial self-deprecation.
Anyway, By Theft and Murder is journalism in so much as that it's an account of time spent in Palestine witnessing first hand the atrocities perpetrated on the Palestinian people by the Israeli authorities; which didn't strike me as being too far removed from Ted's comfort zone - if that's really an appropriate term - of autobiographical fiction, or possibly autobiography with knobs on, whatever you would call it. The problem however - if we're to acknowledge that there's a problem - was that the unforgivable shit Curtis saw in Palestine is probably not that easy to write about, because some subjects are just too fucking awful to work even as reportage, never mind sardonic one-liners. Ted's usual style, as deployed to such powerful effect in The Darkening Light, is dour and quite introspective, lightened with a touch of gallows humour. I get the feeling he may have accordingly struggled to write this one, a narrative which by definition needs to be read and therefore can't really afford too much stylistic indulgence, so it comes across as an uneasy hybrid of the author's usual dispassionate observation with something a bit more Radio 4, or which would at least communicate to readers of those newspapers which fold out to something the size of a picnic blanket.
Additionally, Curtis's narrative doesn't take up all of the book, being supplemented by three appendices of additional material which seem, at times, a little disjointed - although Susan Barclay's account is very much appreciated.
The important thing is that books such as this mean that the information is at least getting past the checkpoints; and while By Theft and Murder wasn't all I hoped it would be, the bottom line is that this is an account of actual events, including innocents squished by bulldozers, and my wibbling bullshit about whether or not it's a page turner in the tradition of Dan Brown is neither here nor there, particularly as that which is reported herein still goes on, still hasn't been resolved, and continues to be reported in terms of how those with the least economic power are the real menace.
As Ted Curtis himself acknowledges, By Theft and Murder probably isn't perfect, but I can see that it needed writing.
The author warned me that this one might not be entirely to my liking, although it was admittedly a vague warning based on his own reservations about the book. I bought it anyway, because Ted Curtis is honestly one of the best writers I've ever been lucky enough to know in person and I had assumed the warning would be mostly authorial self-deprecation.
Anyway, By Theft and Murder is journalism in so much as that it's an account of time spent in Palestine witnessing first hand the atrocities perpetrated on the Palestinian people by the Israeli authorities; which didn't strike me as being too far removed from Ted's comfort zone - if that's really an appropriate term - of autobiographical fiction, or possibly autobiography with knobs on, whatever you would call it. The problem however - if we're to acknowledge that there's a problem - was that the unforgivable shit Curtis saw in Palestine is probably not that easy to write about, because some subjects are just too fucking awful to work even as reportage, never mind sardonic one-liners. Ted's usual style, as deployed to such powerful effect in The Darkening Light, is dour and quite introspective, lightened with a touch of gallows humour. I get the feeling he may have accordingly struggled to write this one, a narrative which by definition needs to be read and therefore can't really afford too much stylistic indulgence, so it comes across as an uneasy hybrid of the author's usual dispassionate observation with something a bit more Radio 4, or which would at least communicate to readers of those newspapers which fold out to something the size of a picnic blanket.
Additionally, Curtis's narrative doesn't take up all of the book, being supplemented by three appendices of additional material which seem, at times, a little disjointed - although Susan Barclay's account is very much appreciated.
The important thing is that books such as this mean that the information is at least getting past the checkpoints; and while By Theft and Murder wasn't all I hoped it would be, the bottom line is that this is an account of actual events, including innocents squished by bulldozers, and my wibbling bullshit about whether or not it's a page turner in the tradition of Dan Brown is neither here nor there, particularly as that which is reported herein still goes on, still hasn't been resolved, and continues to be reported in terms of how those with the least economic power are the real menace.
As Ted Curtis himself acknowledges, By Theft and Murder probably isn't perfect, but I can see that it needed writing.
No comments:
Post a Comment