Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #215603 in Books
• Published on: 2009-01-01
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 256 pages

Synopsis
Four years after "Mothers", "Granta 104" sets its sights on fathers. Look out for Hisham Matar on his father, who was kidnapped while living in Egypt and imprisoned by Muammar al-Gaddafi in Libya; Helen Epstein on 'fatherhood' within the prisons of San Francisco; a dictator who has styled himself as the Father of the Nation; Rawi Hage on Beirut, as seen through his father's eyes; becoming a father again in middle age; and, Junot Diaz on Latin American 'Big Men'. It also features writers, including Margaret Atwood and Ali Smith, on their favourite pictures of their fathers.

Customer Reviews

Granta's new direction?
`Here is the space - now tell us the story,' Granta's new editor, Alex Clark, concludes her introduction to Granta 104, making clear that her magazine is not just a place for established writers, but new voices too. Boldly she backs up her rhetoric, affording space to such hitherto unknowns as Justin Torres and Daniyal Mueenuddin in this debut issue. Indeed this is where Granta 104 stands tall, with Mueenuddin's beautifully written short story `Provide, Provide' possessing the scope, ambition and elegance one might expect from a more distinguished name. Torres's tautly written piece, `Footsteps', was deeply impressive too.

Elsewhere, Ben Markovits on his relationship with his high school basketball coach is a compelling piece of sports writing. David Goldblatt on the brutal murder of his father was shocking, and yet I felt that there were important parts of the story that were left out. Writers, such as Joseph O'Neill and Ali Smith, writing on portraits of their fathers worked well, and the photo essay on Runcorn wrestlers at once amused and confused me (yes, it's funny; but what on earth was it doing in a literary magazine!?!). Even Francesca Segal's essay on her father and the geography of his New York neighbourhood, which I found at times sprawling and somewhat tenuous, was ultimately moving.

In sum, a promising debut, although it would seem clear from this reading that Granta is taking another distinct editorial direction. Can youth sustain it though?

Jumbo's 'human father'
Alex Clark has taken on the job of editing Granta, starting from this edition, the first ever female editor in the magazine's history. It feels to me as if there is slightly too much commissioned work in this edition, whereas, as far as I can remember (and I've got every edition, from No.1 onwards) Granta has never before struggled to provide veracity for a given theme. Where a theme exists it has always been a loose excuse for a subject, and all the better for it, but here it seems a tad too willed and determined. Let's hope this is a temporary phenomenon. I'm certain Granta aficionados would prefer themes to be second place to the quality of the writing.

I would agree with what another reviewer has said about the fiction, see below, but another favourite for me is Caterpillars by James Lasdun, which provides an atmospheric and retributive story of a man humiliated by nature and circumstance - a little vignette of spite.

A short story by Emma Donoghue about the African Elephant, Jumbo, who was sold to Barnum's circus by London Zoo in 1882 has a wonderfully imaginative narrative from the point of view of Jumbo's zoo keeper, Matthew Scott, who accompanied his charge in exile to America (they had already been together for 30 years). Jumbo's history is entwined with that of his keeper who might be said to have become the human 'father' of Jumbo, when he rescued the baby elephant from an African shooting party and `brought him up' in captivity. The photograph of Jumbo shows a beautiful creature at the height of his magnificence.

Of the portraits of fathers, I found Jon McGregor's short piece about his father's defence of a black boy after spotting him in trouble with a crowd of white youths, on the way home from a football match, moving and perceptive, and Adam Mars-Jones's portrait of his father, who was a judge, is affectionate as well as gently mocking. Michael Bywater's Memoir of his father, Comrades, is bleakly funny and briskly energetic, though it tells the most eviscerating of tales. Most of these `portraits' are brief, but often moving.

As well as the fiction and essays in this month's selection there is the extraordinary Photo Essay by Kevin Cummins of members of the Runcorn Wrestler's Association, including female members: Stacy K, Purple Haze and the Pink Assassin. I don't know why these photographs should feel quite so sad as well as strange.