A Night at the IFOA

In which our fearless heroines Ragdoll and Zesty, brave the most inclement of cold winter weather in order to partake of a little night reading.

Ragdoll and I seem to have foregone the pleasure of IFOA in fall, turning it into a full year enterprise instead. Last night kicked off our first night of readings for the 2007 season. (I would say "year" Dear Reader, but "season" implies far more glamour.)

The first reader of the evening was Vikram Chandra who read from his latest novel Sacred Games, which conveniently enough, can also be employed as part of a fitness regime, as it is of such a weight and size as to be entirely appropriate for muscle buidling. How shall I get through this book when I come to it? Vikram! You're makin' a girl reee-eeead!

Mr. Chandra read three very good excerpts from the book. The first focused on two police officers who visit the owner of a girlie bar who pays them off to keep one step ahead of the raids. The second excerpt was narrated by one of the main protagonists, a prominent Hindu gangster and the beginnings of his plot for revenge after he ends up in jail. The last excerpt, and my favourite, was about a hair dresser and her clientele. I generally prefer to go to readings having not read a book, and Mr. Chandra made a stellar case for my continuing this practice. Not only does he have a tremendous gift for dialogue and observation of the human condition, but he expertly brought his setting of Bombay to life with minimalist execution.

The second reader of the night was Neil Smith, who read from his collection of short stories entitled Bang, Crunch. He read about half of a short story that focused on a character named Ann, and the events surrounding the birth of her baby girl, whose father is a gay man and her best friend Jacob. The story itself touched on various junctures in their relationship and Ann's pregnancy. Despite how disjointed the excerpts were, when pulled together as part of the entire story, they worked magnificently and Mr. Smith has a genuine gift for humour as well as observation of the female condition.

The last reading of the night was the best. Colm Toibin read from his collection of short stories Mothers and Sons. All the stories focus on this relationship and he read a piece entitled A Song. He began the reading talking about the importance of music in Ireland and how despite the encroachment of modern day music, particularly hip hop, the Gaelic tradition is as strong as ever, with youngsters regularly signing up for lessons to learn from masters.

He then talked about how the singers in this scene got ticked off one year and held their own singing only festival, and how as a result, a famous female Irish singer came. I believe he said it was Maura O'Connell, but I'm not entirely sure. She didn't participate in the festival, but Mr. Toibin was present for an impromptu performance in a local pub, which by his indication, left everyone spellbound. He mentioned the song she sang, a traditional Irish ballad of treachery and loss and how he then went to Australia and played this song as part of a radio show he was doing. After the show, there was a man on the phone who desperately wanted to talk to him. The man indicated that his mother had sung him the song and that he hadn't heard it in nearly 50 years.

And then Mr. Toibin read his story, and by the end of it all his recounting of the above made complete and total sense. How? Well, you'll just have to get the book!

I of course have a chum called Ragdoll who gave me her copy and I got it signed by Mr. Toibin myself!

That's love y'all. That's love.