A Book A Week

Ever since reading and enjoying Hag-seed, Margaret Atwood's splendid re-imagining of Shakespeare's Tempest, I've faithfully kept track of the other installments in Hogarth Publishing's ambitious Shakespeare project. The more recent efforts have been somewhat lacking, but I've still been eagerly awaiting Jo Nesbo's take on Macbeth. I enjoyed reading many of Nesbo's Harry Hole novels years ago, so I was excited to see the master of dark, Norwegian crime novels take on Shakespeare's darker work.

True to his bare-bones approach to writing his bestselling novels, Nesbo wisely stays close to the source with his retelling. His Macbeth is set in the middle of a 1970's drug war. Chief of Police Duncan battles notorious drug lord Hecate. Hecate plans to use SWAT officer Macbeth to  see his own agenda advanced. Macbeth has always strayed into the gray area of the law and has no problem falling into a path of lawlessness.

Nesbo has a penchant for writing darkly persuaded characters with a depth and empathy that is second to none. I couldn't help but compare his Macbeth to Harry Hole. Fair or not, Nesbo's Macbeth never reached the fully drawn level that I've come to expect from him. Consequently, it was rather difficult to root for this protagonist. Still, Nesbo is a pro and managed to give his story a suspense that I've never felt in the play.

Despite a few gripes, I found myself enjoying this retelling and constantly reveling in the connections to the original work. Jo Nesbo has a signature authorial style that transcends his novels. Fortunately, this unique voice found itself front a center of this version of Shakespeare's classic. While I still think Atwood's retelling was more satisfying, Nesbo's Macbeth comes in a close second. We have a few years now until Hogarth releases their final announced novel in the collection. With a strong effort from Nesbo, I'm eagerly awaiting Gillian Flynn's take on Hamlet in 2021.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.

(2018, 15)

Ever since I read Margaret Atwood's retelling of Shakespeare's Tempest in Hag-Seed, I've been eagerly reading the other books in Hogarth Publishing's ambitious Shakespeare project. The publishing house has tasked well-known authors with writing re-imaginings of some of the thespian's most famous works. While this has been an interesting exercise, the results have been decidedly mixed. Only Atwood has managed to craft a story that truly stands on its own feet. Still, the exercise itself has been enough to keep me reading, and I was happy to receive a copy of the latest novel in the series Dunbar from the publisher.

Dunbar sees author Edward St. Aubyn have his hand at King Lear. Canadian media mogul Henry Dunbar, the King Lear of this iteration, finds himself in a retirement home/sanitarium. His two older daughters conspire against him, taking control of his company and leaving him to rot in the care home. Dunbar may be old, but he's not going to give up his company without a fight. With the assistance of a depressed former thespian Peter, Dunbar escapes his room and begins a quest to take back control from his conniving daughters.

This is the third book in Hogarth's collection that I've read. I find my reaction to Dunbar to be pretty similar to my reaction of Tracy Chevalier's New Boy. While I appreciate many of the moments in the novel, I don't think it really lives up to the standards of the play it is reimagining. To his credit, St. Aubyn gives the novel a kind of political thriller feel with Dunbar working agains forces conspiring against him and his company. Still, the story never seems to exist beyond the point of retelling Shakespeare's narrative. Dunbar can be thrilling and has some surprisingly witty characters, but I'm starting to question the artistic merit of this exercise. Jo Nesbo throws in his take on Macbeth next year, so I'm not ruling out reading more from this collection.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.
I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review.

(2017, 45)

Last year I read and enjoyed Hag-Seed, Margaret Atwood's retelling of Shakespeare's Tempest. That novel was part of an interesting exercise by Hogarth Publishing to have other well-known author's rework some of Shakespeare's greatest plays. The most recent novel comes from Tracy Chevalier, author of The Girl With the Pearl Earring.

In New Boy, Chevalier reimagines the tragedy of Othello in the form of a school yard romance during the 1970's. Osei has grown accustomed to being the outcast. His father is a diplomat who regularly moves the family from place to place, leaving Osei as the "new boy" in each new school. If being new isn't bad enough, Osei now has the distinction of being the only black kid at the all-white institution.

Osei quickly captures the attention of Dee, one of the most popular girls in the school. Dee is infatuated with Osei's unique good looks and his wise beyond his age personality. Naturally, the other boys in the school see Osei as a threat. One boy in particular sets a plan in motion to humiliate the new boy, and to ensure none of the other students accept him as one of their own.

While New Boy isn't the most riveting book I've read this year, it is still a rather interesting exercise in reinterpretation. By placing the story in a school during the 1970's, Chevalier uses Shakespeare's story to eloquently comment upon jealousy and prejudice. There are heavy implications lurking beneath the surface of this one, but schoolyard setting helps to keep an air of playfulness throughout the short book. The events that took place in Virginia this weekend brought an even more timely perspective to the story. America has an grim history of racism that we haven't been able to shake. The last year has seen numerous works of fiction comment upon that difficult history. I don't think New Boy is the most profound novel that touches on that subject, but it certainly adds to the conversation. The Hogarth Shakespeare Project continues to be one of the more interesting enterprises in publishing today. I'm happy to continue reading the books, and I look forward to Edward St. Aubyn's take on King Lear later this year.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.

(2017, 36)

As Hollywood seems to be stuck in a perpetual cycle of reboots and retellings, it was only a matter of time before the publishing industry began to follow suit. What's old is new again, and a group of authors has turned to one of the oldest and most revered storytellers of all time. The plays of William Shakespeare are set to be reimagined by some of the industry's most unique voices in a series known as the Hogarth Shakespeare project. Last year saw the start of the series with the release of Jeanette Winterson's take on The Winter's Tale, The Gap of Time. With installments by Jo Nesbo and Gillian Flynn slated to drop in the coming years, the project seems to have recruited a varied list of bestselling authors.

In Hag-Seed, author Margaret Atwood provides her own version of Shakespeare's The Tempest. Felix Phillips is no stranger to crisis. After the loss of his daughter Miranda, he sought solace in his role as theater director of the Makeshiweg Theater Festival. For twelve years, Felix captained the organization through settings of great works. Despite his productions' lackluster reviews, Felix has high hopes for this year's project. A dream of his for over a decade, Felix will finally direct his version of The Tempest.

But life has other plans for Felix. The tepid reaction to his last effort combined with his peculiar vision for this year's offering give his understudy Tony and the theater's board enough reason to relieve him of his duties. Furious and embarrassed, Felix retreats to a rural dwelling to reflect on his misfortune and plot his revenge. With only his creative intellect and the guidance of his deceased daughter to rely on, he soon accepts a job teaching literature at a local correctional facility. Devoid of the resources of his previous position, Felix and his ragtag troupe of inmates embark on finally seeing his fantasy production to fruition.

I hadn't read The Tempest since high school, so I was a bit apprehensive about tackling this novel. Fortunately, Atwood's writing kept me engaged throughout the entire book. Felix is a lovable underdog who I couldn't help but get behind. Hag-Seed works both as a standalone story and in relation to the play it is reimagining. Felix is an obvious double for Shakespeare's Prospero. As he lures his wrongdoers into his revenge scenario, Atwood relishes in the absurdity of the situation. A brief summary of The Tempest follows the conclusion of the novel, adding clarity and depth to the already fascinating story. While I'm not usually a fan of retellings, I thoroughly enjoyed Hag-Seed and can't wait to see the next installments in this ambitious project.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads.

(2016, 33)