And so the year rolls on. It’s the first Saturday in April, so here I am again with another Six Degrees. It’s autumn here and we are starting to feel the change in the air. Time to get out my cool weather wardrobe again, more’s the pity! Now, I’ll get onto it … but first, if you don’t know how the #SixDegrees meme works, please check Kate’s blog – booksaremyfavouriteandbest.

The first rule is that Kate sets our starting book. This month, it’s a book I would like to read, Salman Rushdie’s memoir, Knife, in which he shares his experience of a traumatic knife attack, some thirty years after that fatwa that was ordered against him. It’s “a reminder”, says GoodReads, “of literature’s capacity to make sense of the unthinkable, an intimate and life-affirming meditation on life, loss, love, art—and finding the strength to stand up again”.

I have reviewed a Rushdie novel here, but instead of linking there, I’m choosing a poetry collection in which the poet shares her experience of a traumatic event, and of recovering from it. The poet is Susan Varga, and her traumatic event was a stroke. Her collection is titled Rupture (my review). I could also have linked on the fact that both books have stark, dramatic single word titles.

Susan Varga writes of a poet’s devastation of losing “sounds, words, sentences”. However, as I wrote in my post, it is not a bitter book, which reminded me a little of Dorothy Porter’s poetry collection, The bee hut (my review). It was the last book she wrote before she died of breast cancer at 54, and the final poem, written just two and a half weeks before she died, expresses gratitude for her “luck”.

Porter was a poet, and for her bees were a metaphor, said her partner, for “danger amid the sweetness and beauty”. I’m linking, however, to a book by someone who was fascinated by real bees, Bill McKibben’s memoir Oil and honey (my review). This book is subtitled “the education of an unlikely activist”, and is about his two main passions, one being bees, honey and good farming practice, and the other being oil, or the fossil fuel industry, and how to stop its impact on the climate. The book is both a memoir, and a manifesto about McKibben’s coming out as an environmental activist.

So, I am linking next to a novel about an eco-warrior/environmental activist, Donna M. Cameron’s The rewilding (my review). It’s a thriller by genre, but as I wrote in my review it’s about values, about the lines you draw, about the life you choose to live, and about what that means personally and politically.

Eco-warrior Nia is one of the protagonists of Cameron’s novel, but it opens with a young man, Jagger, sitting in his office deciding to do something that will lose him his flashy fiancée Lola. Just before I read Cameron, I read Willa Cather’s short story “The bookkeeper’s wife” (my review). It commences with a young man, Percy Bixby, sitting in his office deciding to do something in order to keep his flashy fiancée Stella, so it’s to Willa Cather than I am linking next.

Finally, to close this chain, I’m following two young men pondering problems in their offices to a novel with office in its title, Jane Rawson’s A wrong turn at the Office of Unmade Lists (my review). This novel is partly a time-travel book, and the office appears in the GAP between two worlds. But what makes this book an extra good link for today’s chain is that it’s also a climate change book, which links it back nicely to McKibben’s and Cameron’s books. I’m not sure, however, that I can link it back to Knife.

So, four of my six books are by Australian writers; three are about climate change and activism; and two are by poets. Oh, and four of my six are by women, which is the case in my chains more often than not.

And, have you read Knife and, regardless, what would you link to?

It’s the first Saturday in March so here we are again at Six Degrees time. My favourite season of autumn – except that it leads to winter – has officially started. It’s sunny, warm and the leaves are just starting to turn. I hope the weather is lovely wherever you are. Now, I’ll get onto it … but first, if you don’t know how the #SixDegrees meme works, please check Kate’s blog – booksaremyfavouriteandbest.

The first rule is that Kate sets our starting book. This month, it’s a book I wish I’d read – as it’s by an Irish writer and won the 2023 Booker Prize, Paul Lynch’s Prophet song – but of course I haven’t. GoodReads starts its description with, “A fearless portrait of a society on the brink as a mother faces a terrible choice”. On the Booker Prize website, there’s a reading guide for the book, which includes this question:

‘You need to relax, the GNSB are not the Stasi, they are just applying a little pressure, that is all,’ Larry tells Eilish at an early point in the story (page 28). Where does the irony lie in this statement with references to the Stasi, the secret police force of East Germany? And to what extent do you think the characters cling to the belief that a country as civilised as theirs could never descend into such a terrifying situation?

Well! Having considered a number of ways to go, I decided that here was the link for me, the Stasi! So, I am linking to Anna Funder’s nonfiction book, Stasiland (my review), for which she interviewed several Stasi men, as well as other East Germans who suffered at Stasi hands. It’s an unforgettable book.

And, it won the Samuel Johnson Prize in 2004, now the Baillie Gifford Prize for Non-Fiction, which, according to the website, “rewards excellence in non-fiction writing, bringing the best in intelligent reflection on the world to new readers”. Twenty years after Funder, in 2024, the winner was Richard Flanagan’s Question 7 (my review), which I described in my post as “a humane book, a book about who we are and how we are, about what we do to each other and why”

But, subject matter is not my link. Instead, I’m linking from Flanagan’s book about a question to a book whose title is a question, Hartmann Wallis’ Who said what, exactly (my review), though I admit there’s no question mark on the cover. Hartmann Wallis is one of the pseudonyms used by painter, printmaker and writer, Robin Wallace-Crabbe. Wikipedia says he uses this pseudonym to muse on subjects like “art, love/lust, loneliness and animals; usually with a tone of disdain regarding cruelty toward animals and our fellow man”. This is worthy of a link, but so is the fact that his book was illustrated by Phil Day. I have reviewed a few books where Day’s hand has been, including his own, A chink in the daisy chain.

However, I was surprised and delighted to notice that Phil Day is acknowledged as the artist of the beautiful rabbit on the cover of Melanie Cheng’s The burrow (my review). I assume it’s the same Phil Day – I’ve not been able to confirm it – and am making him, and The burrow, my link.

Now, I must move away from Australian authors as I shouldn’t be completely parochial, as good as our authors are! So, my next link is to another book in which a mother grieves for a child, albeit the child is 11, not a baby as in The burrow. The book is Maggie O’Farrell’s Hamnet (my review).

And finally, ok, I’m sorry, but I’m going to do it, I am returning to my first author, Anna Funder and her book Wifedom (my review), which does in non-fiction, what O’Farrell does in fiction, which is to bring into the light, the forgotten wife of a famous, much-lauded writer, Eileen O’Shaughnessy, wife of George Orwell.

So, five of my six books are by Australian writers, but their subject matter and settings roam widely and across some big questions. Four of my six books are by women. I guess there is a loose link back from last book to Prophet song, in that Lynch’s book is dystopian as are some of Orwell’s works.

And, have you read Prophet song and, regardless, what would you link to?

It’s the first Saturday in February so it must be Six Degrees time, and this month, I’m not going to engage in any chatty intro but just get into it … as always, if you don’t know how the #SixDegrees meme works, please check Kate’s blog – booksaremyfavouriteandbest.

The first rule is that Kate sets our starting book. This month, it’s a book I probably should have read – being a classic – but haven’t. It’s Pierre Choderlos de Laclos, Dangerous Liaisons, an epistolary novel published in 1782.

Now, commenting on last month’s Six Degrees, one of my most loyal commenters here, MR, who often ponders on the – let’s say – quality of my links, suggested that I just list the books and let those of you who read the post work out the reasons. So, this is what I’m doing this post. I did think about giving the reasons in a follow-up post, but have decided that’s pushing the friendship a little too far so I am providing the answers at the end (after the image gallery). I’ve tried not to make the links too hard, and for some there are multiple ways the books could be linked.

So, here goes:

• Starting book: Pierre Choderlos de Laclos, Dangerous Liaisons
• Link 1: Jane Austen, Lady Susan
• Link 2: Maria Edgeworth, Leonora 
• Link 3: Elizabeth von Arnim, Vera 
• Link 4: Jane Caro, The mother 
• Link 5: Bonnie Garmus, Lessons in chemistry
• Link 6: Peter Carey, The chemistry of tears

Now, for the link reasons. Dangerous liaisons is an epistolary novel, as is Jane Austen’s Lady Susan. (Both were also published in the 18th century.) Maria Edgeworth’s Leonora, is about a coquette visiting friends, as is Lady Susan, albeit in this case the coquette is not the titular character but Leonora’s friend. (Leonora is also an epistolary novel, and is written by an English-born woman.) Elizabeth von Arnim’s Vera has a woman’s first name as its title. (It was also written by a woman, who is English, though she wasn’t born in England.) Jane Caro’s The mother is about a coercive control by a husband, which is also the idea behind Vera, though coercive control wasn’t known as that then. (Jane Caro is also a woman, though that’s a very broad link!) Bonnie Garmus’ Lessons in chemistry is a debut novel by a 65-year-old-woman, and was The mother. (Like Caro’s novel, it also has a mother-daughter thread, though that’s not the main idea.) And for my last link, I’ve made it super-easy. Peter Carey’s The chemistry of tears has “chemistry” in the title, as does Garmus’ book.

How did you go? Did you find some links I didn’t?

And, have you read Dangerous liaisons and, regardless, what would you link to?

Woo hoo, a new year – and a Happy New Year to you all – but our old-faithful Six Degrees meme continues on. I’d like to thank Kate for keeping on with this meme as it’s the only one I like to do, and I do like being part of the Six Degrees community. Now having done that little bit of emotional blackmail, on with the show … as always, if you don’t know how the #SixDegrees meme works, please check Kate’s blog – booksaremyfavouriteandbest.

The first rule is that Kate sets our starting book. This month, it’s another book I haven’t read. I did buy it with the best of intentions when Kate announced it, but then forgot to bring it to Melbourne with me. The book is last year’s Booker Prizewinner, Samantha Harvey’s Orbital. As most of you surely know it is a novella about six astronauts orbiting the earth in their spacecraft. 

I had many thoughts about this one, starting with another prize-winning novella with a single-word title, Arboreality. However, in the end I chose another novel about confined protagonists, though in this case it’s one confined protagonist. The book is Amor Towles’ A gentleman in Moscow (my review), whose aristocratic protagonist is under house arrest in a hotel in Moscow (in Bolshevik Russia).

Towles’ novel is an intriguing book. Why did an American investment banker write such a book. Towles, whether you believe him or not, said he had no central theme. He simply wanted to create a work that would be “satisfyingly cohesive” but “prompt varied responses from reader to reader, and from reading to reading.” One of my responses was that the novel belonged at least in part to the comedy-of-manners tradition – and, no, I am not linking to Jane Austen but to another recent-ish comedy-of-manners, Madeleine St John’s The women in black (my review).

Setting is my next link, because The women in black is set in a Sydney department store. Kim Kelly’s Ladies’ Rest and Writing Room (my review) is also set in a Sydney department store, albeit three decades earlier, in the 1920s.

OK, so now my next link might irritate some, but Kim Kelly’s name is alliterative on “K”, and so is my next author Kirsten Krauth. I’m linking to her debut novel just-a-girl (my review). GoodReads describes it as “A Puberty Blues for the digital age, a Lolita with a webcam”. It’s one of the first novels I read that looked at social media and its (potentially dangerous) use by teenage girls.

My next link picks up on the issue of the digital age and its impact on our lives, though Sebastian Smee‘s main interest is our inner lives. I’m linking to his Quarterly Essay, “Net loss: The inner life in the digital age” (my review). Among many things, he talks how modern digital media encourages children to “present performative versions of themselves online”, which links nicely with Krauth.

However, it’s the inner life issue that is the basis of my final link. The reason I read Smee’s essay is because it inspired a member of my reading group to recommend we read Anton Chekhov’s short story “The lady with the little dog” (my review). As I wrote in my Smee post, Chekhov’s Gurov discusses his inner and outer lives, making clear that the inner life is where “everything that was essential, of interest and of value to him, everything that made the kernel of his life, was hidden from other people”. This is the inner life that Smee explores.

So, we’ve gone from outer space to inner lives this month! And my links have been three male and three female authors. We’ve spent time in some confined spaces, and, without planning it, I started and ended in Russia.

Have you read Orbital and, regardless, what would you link to?