Martini
Frank Moorhouse
Knopf, Random House

Spanish director Luis Buñuel drank them, Ian Flemming's character James Bond immortalised them and Dorothy Parker wrote about them:

'I like to have a martini

Two at the very most

After 3 I'm under the table

After 4 I'm under the host.'

The martini is a nostalgic beverage that takes the drinker back to a time when alcohol was sipped and enjoyed slowly rather than hastily guzzled in a desperate attempt to get drunk. A sophisticated drink that defies alco-pop lolly drinks and fluorescent-coloured jelly shots with its less-is-more approach, it has stood the test of time, becoming a classic drink for adult tastes.

Obviously the martini has a long history, but long enough to sustain an entire book devoted to its life? Frank Moorhouse's Martini is a homage to a drink that has been enjoyed through the years, particularly by the author himself. In his book he reveals a trusty friend that has seen him through trying times and happy memories. Through the pages seeps his own story and reminiscences about old friends, loves, and mistakes made. Part history, part instructional guide, part memoir, this book will teach you a thing or two about the trusty, yet complicated martini.

Under the surface of this clear liquid lie countless rules and a multitude of do's and don'ts imposed by purists worldwide.   The martini police are out there and it's not just Moorhouse.   They're everywhere, watching whether you guzzle or sip, eat one peanut at a time or a handful.

Moorhouse believes shaken or stirred, vodka or gin, olive or a twist of lemon are all acceptable variations for the martini, but everything else is starting to push the boundaries. Anymore than three olives is turning a beverage into a snack; anything short of filling the glass to the very top is an insult to the guest; and shaking the cocktail above your head is just plain wrong.  

"I have a theory that when men lift a cocktail shaker above their heads or when some guy at a meeting leans back with his hands behind his head, they are engaging in ape behavior, that these postures allow the male sweat pheromones to reach the male or female in their company. A display of maleness which says "look at me, smell my power."

Witty and frivolous, Martini is the perfect Saturday afternoon read to be enjoyed with a perfectly chilled martini, three olives and a small bowl of nuts. If you're on a leather couch in a dark bar (perhaps a piano playing in the background), you'll enjoy it even more.

Anabel Pandiella

Classic Martini

Add 6 parts gin and 1 part dry Vermouth to a chilled shaker filled with ice.

Shake until icy cold.

Pour to the brim of a chilled triangular martini glass and garnish with olives.

The History of Love
Nicole Krauss
Penguin Books

The History of Love is the kind of book that echoes in you endlessly. Tender and poignant it is filled with moments of raw humanity; its characters continually battling the mystery of their existence, and the inevitably of their mortality.  

The main protagonist is Leo Gursky, an elderly Jewish man desperately trying to ensure that he is not forgotten. He purposefully drops his change on the floor to gain the attention of passers-by and makes meaningless conversation with strangers in an effort to be remembered. So deep is his desire to be noticed that he even models nude for an art class, although he does draw the line at smearing himself in cow's blood for performance art, even though they promised it would be kosher.

But while he attempts to be noticed, Leo's life is lonelier than ever. His only friend is Bruno who lives in an apartment upstairs and his only relative a son, a famous writer, who doesn't even know he exists. Having survived the horrors of the Holocaust and escaped to America, Leo attempts to find his lover to commence his new life. The life that results is a solitary one that sees him resigned but not without hope.

The story of Leo's life is delicately woven with that of Alma Singer, a young girl living with her mother and brother Bird. Named after a character in her mother's favorite book The History of Love , Alma too is also desperate to make her mark on the world, mainly as a famous explorer. She is also unwittingly attempting to hold her family together. Her mother, grieving the death of her husband, is barely able to get dressed in the morning and her brother is convinced he has been chosen by God to be the Messiah. When her mother is asked to translate The History of Love into English by a mysterious stranger, Alma is convinced he is the saviour her mother needs to help her forget her father. But as she becomes immersed in the story in which her namesake has the starring role, questions start to arise about her parents and their love for the book, the existence of the book itself and why this stranger wants it to be translated.  

As The History of Love is translated chapter by chapter, Alama and Leo's worlds start to collide, along with that of the mysterious stranger. With cleverly constructed twists and subplots, and paragraphs so delicately pieced together they read like poetry, each chapter reveals another layer in this profound story.

This book takes the reader into a world where the best of humanity stands alongside the worst. Resoundingly sad (but never apathetic) this is a novel that captures the very core of humankind in all its sadness and kindness, its doom and fortune. While we all strive desperately to be individuals, we are all, in essence, exactly the same. And while our modern world has brought us technologically closer together, we have never before felt so disconnected from each other.

Like Leo and Alma, we all need human contact, even if it's just for the promise of being remembered. Or to know we're special.

Anabel Pandiella

Star
Pamela Anderson
Atria Books, Simon & Schuster

Commercial fiction often gets a bad rap when compared to its more literary counterparts. Nonetheless, a look at the bestseller list shows the popularity of the genre worldwide. I've always been of the opinion that it doesn't matter what people read, as long as they're reading! So without trepidation I happily picked up Pamela Anderson's Star .

Our protagonist is Star, a wholesome yet sexy and ambitious waitress who dreams of making it big. Within the first hundred pages Star manages to have her first lesbian encounter with her friend Brandi, land the cover of a national men's magazine, and catch the attention of an LA producer. Star is destined to be, well, a star. After that I'm not really sure what happens as I had to put it down. I decided that finishing the book would either cause me irreversible psychological damage or it would put me off reading for life.  

At last year's Sydney Writers' Festival Judith Curr, the publisher of Star spoke about publishing commercial fiction alongside more independent African-American fiction and non-fiction under her imprint Atria.

"It buys me time to publish the literary fiction which requires more work to build a relationship between the writer and the reader," said Curr.

Celebrity authors require little publicity and marketing to catch the attention of readers. Everyone knows who Anderson is and everyone knows what they're going to get when they pick up her book. The money that Star makes the company means resources can be put towards developing lesser-known authors.

What I can't understand is why we can't publish good commercial fiction AND new talent at the same time. Sure, splashing a celebrity all over the cover might sell more books but what about the fact that publishers are wasting their readers' time?

Star is tedious, predictable and irritatingly boring. Its only redeeming feature is that you support new, emerging literary talent by purchasing it. Can't someone just start a charity instead? I'd gladly contribute without having to put myself through the pain of this hideous book.

Anabel Pandiella