The next big thing?

 

Keeping up with the next best thing can be an exhausting business. Writers, readers, broadcasters and journalists are ready to crown the new great talents in an effort to look authoritative and influential, fuelled by more than a smidge of desperation. After all, no one wants to be the one who let the latest and greatest slip by without their noticing. What’s left after the hype and frenzy has dissipated is another matter.

 

Currently being salivated over is Dan Vyleta, a young academic with the twin research disciplines of crime and Eastern Europe. You can probably guess something of the novel already. Set in Berlin, a year after the end of the 2^nd World War the book is part noir, part conspiracy thriller. Pavel is an American soldier, a long way from home in one of the century’s bitterest winters. Looking for black market medicine he meets Andrews, a German orphan; their friendship is interrupted by the dead body of a Russian spy and from here it’s Oliver Twist meets The Third with prostitutes, spies, mistresses and a gang of thieving children. Regardless of the hype, it makes for an intriguing set up and those who like their literary fiction with a pulsating heartbeat might want to take a look.

 

Continuing with the post-war crime noir theme, Michael Chabon returns with The Yiddish Policeman’s Union. It’s as quirky a title as ever and could be the book that brings him the levels of adulation over here that he gets from American readers. The set up may take some explaining so be patient; it’s an alternate history detective novel which imagines that Alaska became the home for displaced Jews after the 2^nd World War (“the frozen chosen” as they become known). Dense, complex and bursting with Yiddisah, if it sounds curious, it is, so much so that the newly-redeemed Coen Brothers have it ear-marked as their next film.

 

For a literary experiment that’s easier to digest, Not Quite What I Was Planning comes highly recommended. Based on a comment Hemingway made that the best story he ever wrote was six words long (“For sale, baby’s shoes, never worn”), online storytelling magazine Smith has asked readers for their autobiography in six words. The results are fascinating; funnier and more disturbing than anything that fits in a text message has any right to be. Some of the contributions are from famous writers (Joyce Carol Oates, “Revenge is living well, without you”; Joan Rivers, “Liars – hysterectomy didn’t improve sex life) but most are from amateurs (“Found true love, married someone else”; “Caring for parents. Life is circular”). Thrillingly addictive, it could be the most highbrow toilet read there is.

 

And finally, something to rediscover. Persephone Books are one of Britain’s most interesting publishers, specialising in reprinting neglected books of the 20^th century, be they novels, journals or even cookery books. As recognisable as an old Penguin paperback, each book has a simple grey jacket and unique fabric end papers but what lies inside is just as intriguing, especially for those bored of what’s currently in their bookshops. Recent authors republished have been Katherine Mansfield and Dorothy Whipple; next up to be resuscitated is Winifred Watson’s Miss Pettigrew Lives For The Day, a sort of Cinderella for grown up and a fabulous recreation of London in the 30s. Perhaps, if Persephone are right, the next big thing doesn’t have to be new at all.