Product Description

If Julian Barnes' new collection of stories has a theme it is 'rage in age'. Among the Chinese, the lemon is the symbol of death. At the 'lemon table' (a coinage of Sibelius, protagonist of the final story) it is permissible - indeed obligatory - to talk about death, and each of Barnes' characters is facing death, but each in a very different way. The settings range from eighteenth-century Sweden and nineteenth-century Russia to the 'Barnet Shop', a hairdressing salon where an old man measures out his life in haircuts, or a South Bank concert hall where a music lover carries out an obsessive campaign against those who cough in concerts. In "Knowing French", an eighty-four-year old woman, a former teacher 'incarcerated' in an old people's home, begins a correspondence with an author - "Dear Dr Barnes" - that enriches both their lives. In "Appetite", a woman reads elaborate recipes to her sick husband as a substitute for sex. In 'Hygiene' an old soldier makes his regular trip to town to do errands for his wife - stilton from Paxton's, rubber rings for Kilner jars, Elizabeth Arden powder - and to spend the afternoon with a tart called Babs. These stories are wise, funny, clever and moving.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #276429 in Books
• Published on: 2004-03-04
• Original language: English
• Binding: Hardcover
• 213 pages

Sunday Express, 13 March
‘These stories may be short but they are also most incredibly moving’

Observer, 20 March
'Barnes has created a collection of acute observations which shows him to be at the top of his game’

London Review of Books
'The stories are unsentimentally affecting; Barnes is here, as
ever, both very clever and extremely funny'

Customer Reviews

Hairdressing has never been so good
This is an exceptional collection of stories...they all recount different aspect sof ageing... and none better than the opener which tells of three visits to the hairdressers'. It documents the same man visiting firstly as a child, then as a young man and then as an OAP. The little microcosm of the barber's chair tells his story and also the story of a social change. Brilliant. Barnes is at his prime.

One Note Wonder
This collection brings together eleven stories written over a span of roughly ten years, six of which were originally published in The New Yorker, and the remainder in venues such as Granta and the TLS. Originally titled "Rage and Age" (per the Dylan Thomas poem), the collection is thematically focused on aging and death and Barnes has said that the stories were intended to counter the notion that life calms down or gets serene in old age. While the collection certainly counters that myth, the thematic concentration results in a certain repetitiveness when the stories are read back to back.

The fairly forgettable "A Short History of Hairdressing" tells the story of a man's life through the framework of three visits to the barber, one as a child, one as a adult, and one as an old man. Set in 19th-century Sweden, "The Story of Mats Israelson" ponders the unconsummated love between a sawmill manager and the wife of the town pharmacist. As is so many period pieces, the two are locked into their social roles unable to express their feelings to each other, leading the a lifetime of yearning for what might have been. Thankfully, this ennui is dispelled in "The Things You Know," in which two widows meet for breakfast. Each is determined to sugarcoat their memories of married life, but each also knows certain nasty truths to the other's marriage, making the entire story very spiky and harsh.

In "Hygiene", a WWII veteran makes his way to London for the annual banquet of his old regiment. This affords him the chance for a yearly meeting with the same prostitute, a tryst which is his sole way of demonstrating his existence to himself. The Russian writer Ivan Turgenev is the protagonist of "The Revival", which reflects upon a brief period of happiness in his later years, spurred by his platonic love for an actress. "Vigilance" is easily the best story of the collection, dwelling on a middle-aged gay Londoner whose anger and frustration with his relationship is sublimated, only to emerge with venom at concert-goers who fail to be suitably quiet. It's both quite funny and sad at the same time. Much less successful is the French-set "Bark," which revolves around a scheme to finance the building of public baths by which twenty or so investors put up the initial funds, and the last living one inherits the proceeds.

"Knowing French" is built on a clever conceit, that an elderly woman reading her way through the library's fiction in alphabetical order, has come to Barnes' much lauded novel "Flaubert's Parrot." She then initiates a correspondence with him, of which we are only privy to her side. It's an effective evocation of the "problem" of elder homes, for which not all elderly people are suited. In "Appetite", a woman reads recipes to her Alzheimers-stricken husband, whose only responses are barks of indignation at vague recipe directions or lewd outbursts. "The Fruit Cage" tackles the confusion of a middle-aged man whose 80-year-old parents suddenly separate. The final story is, "The Silence", in which a fictional version of Finnish composer Jean Sibelius jots down fragmentary reflections on his life and career.

Ultimately, the stories are a clear warning to the reader that one's old age is not likely to be dominated by grandchildren and warm fires, but rather by nostalgia and brooding over mistakes of the past, words left unsaid, deeds left undone. In that sense, the stories are quiet affecting. However, they are perhaps best read one a month or so, as the same note tends to get struck -- albeit by very different characters in very different settings.

Superb Short Stories of Wide Range and Impeccable Style
I am writing this little squib to call attention for those of you music-lovers who may read my and others' reviews of classical music CDs to the story 'Vigilance.' It is a hilarious and ultimately unsettling story of a Londoner who has made it his life's work to shame and quiet those people at classical music concerts at the Barbican, Festival Hall and the Royal Albert who cough during performances. One initially sympathizes with his irritation but becomes more and more aware that his bête noire has made him just the least little bit unhinged.

One can also add a commendation for what is probably the best story here, praised liberally by press reviewers, 'Knowing French.' Barnes is a superbly informed, superbly polished writer whose works have never one word too many and are very much worth getting to know.

Scott Morrison