Noel Woodward

Jeff Gordinier takes you on a rip-roaring adventure through the lush jungles of the Yucatán peninsula, past the glistening beaches of Tulum and to the frigid depths of the Arctic Circle – all in search of the best ingredients that would coalesce to give birth to some of Noma’s most iconic, sumptuous and sometimes rambunctious dishes. Infused with the verve and vivacity of the force of nature himself – René Redzepi – Gordinier’s masterful prose is on display – a veritable smorgasbord that will inspire, tantalise and ignite a fire that propels you onwards. I‘ve followed Noma’s trajectory over the past couple of years and have always fantasised about being able to get onto that waiting list. But alas, the sudden announcement about its closure has extinguished that dream and has sent shock waves across the industry, which I’m sure, will continue to reverberate for many more years to come. However, there’s always a silver lining – the pop-ups are still a thing! But I digress. Gordinier’s work – from writing about food to interviewing Keanu Reeves – has led me down a path that is brimming with creative passion and imbued with excitement, heart, and an insatiable desire to connect with people. And in René Redzepi’s words, “Creativity is the ability to store the special moments, big or small, that occur throughout your life, then being able to see how they connect to the moment you’re in. When past and present merge, something new happens.” I went in to learn more about Redzepi. I came out discovering a masterful storyteller. For that, I am grateful.

There aren’t many books out there that definitively explore the nature of friendship and passionate platonic love – one that blossoms and blooms but also withers and wanes. And it’s definitely safe to say there aren’t any with video game developers – as protagonists – in the mix! Enter Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin. A charming boy meets girl story that evolves into a fierce relationship that spans three decades – in the author’s own words, “I have a hard time describing the book, but it’s broadly about love, art, video games and time.”  Gabrielle Zevin is completely in tune with the times and orchestrates a sprawling, evocative and vivid tale – with twists and turns not entirely different from the many virtual worlds she envisions as part of the narrative. The premise. Sadie & Sam are friends, partners and collaborators. But above all else, they love video games. As they grow older, drift apart and then get together again, they decide to start developing their own games. Fleshed out in the form of vignettes – from childhood to their late thirties –  Zevin weaves a delicate yet extremely imaginative yarn that often dives deep into the narrative process of game development and the importance of storytelling – albeit through a completely different medium.  There are moments of joy, sadness, despair, arrogance and insecurity layered within themes that explore identity, culture, and fear of the other. But above all, there’s a deep reverence for and great understanding of the art of creation that not only exists as part of the story, but also seeps into the visually textured description of some of the games that Sadie and Sam develop together.  Zevin incorporates nostalgia, heart and portions of her own upbringing and experiences in the book – which is a creation in itself – and so do our protagonists, whose stories and lives are intertwined within these rich and immersive worlds – that in my opinion, would make gorgeous games in themselves. (They actually went ahead and made one of them! Brilliant!) Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow is a modern masterpiece and one for the ages, with Zevin examining the fragility of relationships, the power of collaboration and the oscillating nature of the creative process. A rare gem that takes you on an inspiring, tender and thought provoking journey through time – one that comes full circle at the end. P.S. There are some shout outs to her inspiration, at the end of the book, and Indie Game made the cut. Great documentary. Go watch it!

‘How High We Go in the Dark’ is a hauntingly beautiful genre bending read that accentuates the horrors of climate change – a world blighted by natural disasters and a terrifying plague that escapes from the depths of the permafrost – while focusing on the will of humanity and the power of resilience. Written before the Covid Pandemic, Sequoia Nagamatsu’s prescient narrative immaculately captures a sense of atmosphere and unfurls a deeply layered and richly textured landscape, all recounted through short vignettes – from how the outbreak began to humanity’s response, spread across a 6,000 year period – ostensibly disparate yet interconnected events. From Amusement Park rides being used to euthanise sick children to Elegy Hotels, the many narratives are as much about death and destruction as they are about grief, acceptance, family and a collective sense of being. ‘How High We Go in the Dark’ refuses to pigeonhole itself into a particular category and renounces the age old tradition of labelling works. With nuance and subtlety, the collection of stories manages to oscillate between pure sci-fi to historical fiction – a heady concoction that is both fantastical and relatable at the same time. Nagamatsu reaffirms the case for non-linear story arcs that make the reading experience all the more engaging and exciting. A sublime piece of speculative fiction – with a dazzlingly rewarding end – that dances, swirls and soars in search of hope and possibility, ‘How High We Go in the Dark’ is a magnificent achievement – one that will continue to transcend time & space as it hurtles its way across the galaxy. P.S. This reminded me a bit of another speculative fiction story - Little Fish. Should give it a whirl.

I vaguely remember firing this up on my Kindle a couple of years ago but somehow never got around to reading VanderMeer’s cerebral sci-fi eco-horror thriller. Cut to 2018, and Alex Garland – hot off the critical success of ‘Ex Machina’ – teams up with Netflix to release an adaptation of the book – the first in ‘The Southern Reach Trilogy’, which recounts an expedition by a team of four women who set out to explore a mysterious new ecosystem, called Area X. While visually stunning and conceptually provocative, the psychologically esoteric and philosophically perplexing nature of the film did catch a lot of viewers – including myself – off guard. But here we are. Five years later. And with me having blazed through it in under 3 hours. ‘Annihilation’ is a fantastically pieced together work of fiction that is as unnerving as it is delightful – revelling in its ability to be ambiguous and pushes the reader to draw their own conclusions. Coupled with some slick, fast paced writing chops and tense nail biting sequences, VanderMeer masterfully conjures up imagery that is both hauntingly beautiful and vividly terrifying – evoking a sense of awe and dread of the unknown. The gorgeously atmospheric and refreshingly original, ‘Annihilation’ will leave you clamouring for answers as you are led into a thought provoking labyrinth – coming out on the other side, not really quite the same.

Oh boy. What a book. Long listed for this year’s Booker Prize, this intimate, ambitious, and sprawling work of fiction continuously evolves, morphs and coalesces into a living breathing entity unto itself, Martin MacInnes’ ‘In Ascension’ is nothing short of being a literary masterpiece. Everything is connected. Inextricably so. It is the nature of things. “Galaxy’ comes from the Ancient Greek for milk. People looked at the density of stars and saw birth, maternal sustenance scattered across the sky.” Forged to take the reader on a thrilling and mind bending escapade – with discovery being a potent & provocative literary device – this slow burn novel soon transforms into a shining light. However, for a book that revels in its ability to invoke a sense of awe and wonder, I was slightly taken aback by the rather long and unnecessary blurb. I urge you to skip past any mention of it and head to the first chapter. But here’s a spoiler free variant. Thank me later. An exploration of familial tensions, trauma, abuse & existence through the lens of a Dutch marine biologist – who traverses the world to pursue her passion all the while ostensibly stumbling upon the building blocks of life. “It’s a mistake to think of our origins, of all life’s origins, as belonging only to the past. It’s still there.” Apart from cementing his position as a gifted storyteller, MacInnes is extremely adept at world building – deeply layered and richly atmospheric – juxtaposed with narratives that depict and investigate the human condition as well as the relationships that bind us together. Clocking in at around 500 pages – do not let that deter you – I found the experience to be exhilarating as I blazed through with an alacrity unlike any other – a testament to the author’s breathtakingly beautiful and impressively lyrical writing style. “I imagined a life of this, in close contact, as I saw it, with the stuff of the world”. ‘In Ascension’ is a hauntingly nuanced and astonishingly dazzling novel that catapults you from the depths of the ocean to the vastness of space, and plays out in parts as an extraordinarily riveting and nail biting eco-thriller only to surprise us all as it magically transfigures into a sci-fi epic for the ages. There aren’t many books that leave a lasting impression and compel you to start reading them all over again once you turn the final page. This right here, has got what it takes. Oh boy. What a book. What are you waiting for. Buy it now! P.S. A big shout out to Willow – over at Books & Boa – for urging viewers to dive headfirst into the marvellous depths of MacInnes’ genius.