Thursday 29 December 2022

Come Back in September - Darryl Pinckney


‘Genrely’ speaking this is a memoir but it actually reads like a Who’s Who of American literature in the 70s and 80s. And then you add New York into the mix. For me New York is like a character all of its own. I always had this theory that even if you removed every human being from Manhattan it would throb along with its own syncopated  life. But in this very erudite and intellectual memoir New York pulses with literature!  At the centre of this glitterati literati is Elizabeth Hardwick, friend and mentor to the author who has created the most detailed and palpable picture of this notable woman. So much so that I really felt I got to know her and if we were to meet I could immediately strike up a conversation based on Pinckney’s portrayal of his friend. Costarring Robert Lowell, Gore Vidal, Norman Mailer, Susan Sontag, Mary McCarthy, Hannah Arendt - you might almost accuse Pinckney of namedropping! Except that it doesn’t come across that way at all. If anything he’s in awe all of these people as much as the reader. But he is an astute observer and creates the most tangible character sketches of all the people that he meets. But it is a memoir and as much as his friendship with Elizabeth Hardwick dominates the narrative he also gives us insights in how it was to be a gay, black man in New York during those years when AIDS was such a destroyer of life. And it’s also a book about reading and writing, the highs and the lows of both those pursuits for the professional, published writers and the scribblers. There is an engrossing insight into the New York Review of Books and how it’s run, by Elizabeth Hardwick’s friend Barbara Epstein.

The book itself had a curious structure that it took me a while to get used to. Once I did I loved it. For times it reads like the meandering thoughts that we all have only here it’s all written down and it isn’t that it’s disjointed, it is that it can flit from one, for want of a better word, anecdote to another just as one thought leads to another. Ultimately it became almost conversational albeit an extremely intellectual conversation!


It offers the reader a fascinating portrait of life in the literary world during those times. It brings life to those names that may just have been at the foot of a poem as perhaps in the case of Robert Lowell. If, like me, you have a tendency to place writers on a pedestal almost as if they were celebrities of the movie star popstar status this book shows that they were living, breathing people with the same ups and downs, arguments and traumas that we all endure. Towards the end of the book Pinckney offers his journal entries for the end of the eighties which is where the book ends. 


It’s an homage to, not just a time gone by, but a time and a place gone by. Like everything New York has changed and evolved over the decades. This book captures it as an almost literary snapshot if you will. I can’t see that it’s a book with universal appeal but for those with literary inclinations and lovers of New York City it’s an engaging read.


My thanks to Ana McLaughlin of Riverrun books for a gifted copy.

Tuesday 20 December 2022

Total - Rebecca Miller

  


A collection of short stories is always a treat but even more so under the fluent pen of Rebecca Miller. This collection is diverse, yet common threads run through all the stories - intimacy, love with its many confusions as experienced by people from various walks of life, mostly women, although She Comes to Me boasts a lone, male protagonist.


I found the stories to have a very visual quality which I suppose is not surprising given Miller’s cinematic background yet they had a distinct “literary“ feel also. They are more than mere storytelling for the prose is evocative and the characterisations succinct and apt. You feel that nothing is wasted, no words no punctuation. There is as much and as little as is needed. The perfect recipe for an immersive read.


The title story is faintly dystopian in its intent perhaps yet it remains firmly entrenched in our contemporary world with perhaps an insidious warning against our device devotion. It also goes beyond that to offer reflections on  mother-daughter relationships in a powerful and striking way.


While I was reading the collection I also had the feeling of what I call the “Patricia Highsmith“ effect. That strange unsettling, unnerving sense of things just out of kilter, off balance, close but not quite normal. And in all the stories there are people you think you almost know, characters with recognisable traits and yet there is an intangible darkness that pervades them, tensions, maybe ever so slight, but they are there which I think contributes to the sense of being a little off centre. It makes the collection very compelling.


I found the collection unputdownable. Not in the sense that one has with a crime or a thriller novel but with that unspeakable pleasure one gets from reading good writing and not wanting it to stop.


My thanks to Canongate Books for a gifted copy.

Monday 19 December 2022

The One Where I Witter on about Historical Fiction with reference to - The Flames - Sophie Haydock

 By and large I’m not a person who favours any kind of compartmentalising. But I acknowledge that many people have this need and for matters of organisation it is often a necessity. When it comes to books I am always reluctant to restrict myself to preferring this or that genre but perhaps I might make an exception when it comes to historical fiction. I do like the genre and my little ‘booktennae’ respond when the genre is mentioned or I catch sight of it somewhere. Given my eclectic taste in literature why is this genre such a pull? Perhaps it is because I am a bit of a history nerd. Except that I love physical history. I love being in places of historical significance; to be in Anne Boleyn’s bedroom at Hever Castle touching the wall or the fireplace and wondering if her hand had lingered over those very spots, to walk in Hampton Court Palace wondering if I was treading the same steps as Henry VIII, St. Georges Chapel at Windsor had me overflowing as I passed the last resting places of so many persons of note and when I stood by the coffin of Richard III in Leicester Cathedral knowing I was a few feet away from his very bones gave me what I will simply call a ‘histgasm’!
But historical fiction is not physical history so perhaps my enjoyment of the genre is a way of vicariously enjoying history from the comfort of my own unhistorical home.

Historical fiction requires a fusion of thorough research and expansive imagination. The writer of historic fiction has to be careful that the overlap between the two doesn’t tarnish the research because there’s always the risk that some nit picker is waiting, ready to pounce on the slightest inaccuracy. You just can’t mess with the facts. If you’re writing a novel abut the Titanic you can’t change the outcome and have the ship sail on into New York with the Strauss couple and the Astors intact. I suppose you could but that would be a whole new genre - ‘historical magicism’! But it’s also the motivation for writing historical fiction that fascinates me. In one sense some of the work is already done - characters, locations, events - it is the writer;s research and imagination that fuse the lot together. But what is the initial stimulus? A favourite period? An admired monarch or historical figure? An event from the past that consumes the imagination to the extent you simply can’t let go of it? It isn’t enough to read and research the facts. The facts are used to construct a fictional, yet plausible narrative around what is already known. I wonder, if for the writer, it is a way of vicariously getting closer to the subject matter? It certainly is for the reader. Or it is for this reader anyway! Or maybe there are parallels that enable a writer to figure something out in their own life? The conjectures are many. I actually think that authors of historical fiction are extraordinarily brave because it’s always going to be something of a gamble. So much depends on ‘getting it right’.


So what has suddenly prompted all this analysis and ruminating on the subject?  Well, I’ve just read Sophie Haydock’s The Flames. A debut novel, apparently. I say apparently because it didn’t read like a debut! It read like the work of an experienced novelist. And I loved it. It had been on my radar for ages when an author friend mentioned that she had bought a copy for her son’s 21st birthday and wondered if I had read it which I hadn’t at that point. Then it seemed to pop up everywhere on social media by which time my ‘bookstinct’ had firmly kicked in. My copy was a reward for my contribution to an online book community, a reward I got to choose, I hasten to add. But the book has been sitting on my TBR pile for weeks if not months. Then by some strange coincidence I noticed that the author of the book was at Ilkley Book Festival with……..the author who first put the book on my radar back in May. To me that augured well. So, finally, this month I treated myself to the reading of it and treat was the operative word!

The book is an imagining surrounding the lives of four women who were the muses of Austrian artist Egon Schiele. And in this substantial, powerful work the writer gives voice to these women who provided the subjects for some of the startling and explicit work of this incredible artist. The four women are Edith and Adele Harms, two sisters who lived opposite Schiele, his sister Gertrude and Vally, a model, friend, loyal to Egon yet fiercely independent.

Each woman is given her own section of the book and thanks to the immaculate plotting of the novel the crossover between their lives is seamless as we read each woman’s story and make the relevant links. What struck me was how the writer’s development of each character enabled the relevance of the reactions and interactions to be seen from each individual woman’s perspective. So the reader was privy to viewing the same event through different eyes. It was quite fascinating.

As well as being a work of historical fiction it’s also a book about art and artists. We learn much about Schiele himself, and his upbringing. He is a fascinating person, brought to life under Haydock’s skilful pen. I can’t say I warmed to him but his passion for his art was consummate. His paintings were challenging during his lifetime time and I imagine that for some they are no less so now. But I chuckled at Adele when her sister questioned her about whether she liked Schiele’s painting of her.

It’s not about whether I like it or not. It’s art.

And perhaps the real point of the book is best summed up by a present day character, Eva,

I never stopped to imagine that these models had lives of their own. Living, breathing….’

I think that what makes this such a engrossing work is how vibrant the narrative is. It is no dry imagining, these women leap out of the pages, living and breathing their lives into our consciousness in such a way that we will never forget them. And of course the novel impacts on our future appreciation of Schiele’s work, how could it do otherwise? In fact I can think of no other work save perhaps Tracey Chevalier’s Girl With a Pear Earring that propels art and history to such a palpable and accessible place. And against it all the backdrop of WW1 and the Spanish flu. 

But we’ll let Edith have the last word,

There’s only one choice Edith can make, that much is clear, to believe in love.

For without it we are nothing.

And I think this book was written with a lot of love.








Tuesday 13 December 2022

Animal Life - Audur Ava Olafsdottir - Translated by Brian Fitzgibbon - Blog Tour

I found this to be a most unusual and unique book. There were times when I felt it was less fiction than the biography of an Icelandic midwife. Domhildur is from a long line of midwives on her mother’s side and a long line of undertakers on her father’s. A paradox if ever there was one. But the whole story pivots on the yin and yang of dark and light, life and death which is motivated mostly by the letters and manuscripts of Domhildur’s late greataunt.

The narrator, Domhildur, or Dyja, as her great aunt calls her, tells us of her everyday life as a midwife living in an old fashioned apartment left to her by her aunt and when she isn’t midwifing she tells us of the expansive philosophies that she discovers within the papers of her late aunt. So if you spotted the word midwife and started having cosy thoughts about Call the Midwife you might want to think again although Raymond Nonnatus is mentioned in the narrative which somehow made me chuckle.

This is what I like to call a cerebral book. It’s not full of action and twists. It’s hard to pin down in a lot of ways which endears it to me as I enjoy genre defiant books. It’s the kind of book that has you thinking long after you’ve put it to one side - some contemporary environmental thoughts that seem ahead of great aunt’s time and some almost Zen like philosophies regarding the light and the dark of life, and the world.

The sagacity of Dyja’s aunt could even form a separate book of worthy aphorisms.

‘ Instead of being humble towards the other living creatures he shares the earth with and its plants, man wants to have everything for himself. He wants to own the fish in the sea, icebergs and freshwater rivers, he wants to own waterfalls, he wants to own islands, he would even like to own the sunset if he could. Possessions make man forget that he dies. When a person finally understand what matters, he has often started to ail and hasn’t long to go.‘

Wow, powerful words with a lot of truth in them. But if that sounds heavy, and it is potent, fear not, for the narrative is balanced with some lighter moments especially the exchanges with Dyja and her sister. It’s not a character driven narrative but there are a few other characters who play an important part. One is the electrician who offers a parallel with himself and Dyja as he is one of four electricians in his family and she is one of four midwives in her family. Unwittingly he furthers the great light/dark contemplation. 

You could say we work in the same sector then since you’re a mother of light, both of us work in light.’ 

He then goes on to say, ‘ In fact I’ve always been scared of the dark.‘ 

The novel is set around Christmas time which seemed to be salient, fuelling more thoughts about life. and that seems to be what the book does. There isn’t really a plot are such unless we consider Domhildur’s progression as she starts to redesign her apartment but I also saw that as her emerging from her own darkness into a new light. It’s not a long book either. it’s well written, very poetic in places and the translator, Brian Fitzgibbon, has done a brilliant job.

But perhaps I’ll let great-aunt have the last word.

‘It is said that humans never recover from being born, that the most challenging experience in life is coming into the world and at the most difficult thing is to get used to the light.‘

My thanks to Pushkin Press for a gifted copy of the book and a place upon the blog tour. Please do check out what other bloggers have to say about the book.




Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir
 is a prize-winning novelist, playwright and poet. Her novels have been translated into 33 languages, and have won the Nordic Council Literature Prize, the Icelandic Literary Prize, the Prix Medicis Etranger and the Icelandic Booksellers Prize. She lives in Reykjavík.



Brian Fitzgibbon translates from Italian, French and Icelandic. Recent translations include Woman at 1000 Degrees by Halgrimur Helgason as well as Hotel Silence and Miss Iceland by 
Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir.

Thursday 8 December 2022

The Darlings of the Asylum - Noel O'Reilly - Blog Tour


Whilst not a new subject for a work of fiction, I was reminded quite forcibly of Victoria Mas’s The Mad Woman’s Ball, Noel O’Reilly’s take on the subject is atmospheric, similarly gothic and quite immersive. I found the opening sequences riveting, as the tension was racked up and the inevitable outcome for Violet unavoidable. I could see there was a deal of research undertaken which was consistent with accounts of Victorian asylums. That women were placed in asylums, often by their families, for reasons that couldn’t be further from insanity is well documented. Here it is suggested Violet is incarcerated because of her desire to become an artist and her reluctance to marry a man she didn’t love. Deeper in the book we find that the situation may not be that ‘simple’.

Overall this book didn’t cover any new ground for me, I had a sense almost of deja vu. Nevertheless I found it an enjoyable read and I was frantically turning the pages towards the end to see what happened. I very much enjoyed the tension experienced in that sequence of the book. So I liked the beginning and I liked the end, what did I think of the middle?!?! To be honest I found it too lengthy and inconsistent in terms of Violet’s standing as a patient when compared with the other inmates and the nature of her mental state. But in another sense I thought it was trying to capture the drugged, fuzzy headed state these poor women found themselves in. I'm reluctant to say too much for fear of spoilers but the titular 'Darlings' is most chilling. And the ending was a killer twist which added to the Gothic feel of the story as a whole.

Violet was an interesting character. I liked her and I was rooting for her. Dr. Rastrick was suitably sinister and potentially more insane than any of his patients! I found myself indifferent to the majority of other characters with the exception of some of the asylum inmates who broke my heart.

I think the book captured the mood and strictures of the time, especially for women, very well and it also has much to say on attitudes towards art and artists of both genders.

My thanks to HQ stories for a gifted copy of the book and a place upon the blog tour. 

Wednesday 7 December 2022

The Wheel of Doll - Jonathan Ames

If the dark,noir narrative of A Man Named Doll, tickled your Chandleresque yearnings, you’ll be delighted with this next story in the series. I’ve read the first book so I know the detail of Doll’s backstory.Some of it is dealt with in the second book, but I don’t think it impacts on the readers’ enjoyment not to have read the first. However I’m pretty sure most readers will want to!

The mood created in the first story is maintained and developed here as Happy Doll continues on his rather precarious journey as a private investigator, only here he is unlicensed after the shenanigans he created in A Man Named Doll.


Sometimes I feel Happy could be renamed Hapless as things just don’t work out the way they’re supposed to!! And I marvel at his physical endurance because here again, his poor body is subjected to much abuse, although he does appear to retain all of his major organs this time!


Happy and George continue to present as the perfect couple! 😉 Even when Happy has to leave George with a friend as this book’s action takes place outside LA for much of the time. Who is George, I hear you ask? Aha, have a read of the book to find out! 😉



A NAME FROM PAST

When Mary DeAngelo walked into Happy Doll’s office, she brings with her the scent, sandalwood perfume, a whole lot of cash, and the name of his old flame: Ines Candle. 


LURED HAPPY INTO A TRAP

Ines is living rough up in Washington State, and Mary wants her found. Happy hits the streets to track her down, but soon he realises he has been used. Now somebody is hunting them.


CAN HE FIGHT HIS WAY OUT?

Soon, two people are dead, and Happy is in big trouble. But he’s been here before, and he knows that the only way to be safe is to get even…


And that just about sums it up. With a strange paradox of seemingly every day detail yet extraordinary action and seemingly impossible situations, Jonathan Ames has created another entertaining, high octane thriller. Perhaps not for the faint hearted, or those who object to sustained recreational drug use but for those prepared to take the risk this is an exciting and darkly humorous read. A well judged narrative pace with some entertaining characters with Happy always at the centre of everything. You can’t help but like him no matter that some of his actions are questionable. And you find yourself always rooting for him to come through. I can’t wait for the next Happy Doll story,


My thanks to Pushkin Vertigo for a gifted copy of this book. 

Thursday 24 November 2022

Madly, Deeply - The Alan Rickman Diaries

 

 I always feel there’s something slightly underhand, immoral even, about reading someone else’s diaries. As a journal/diarist myself I would be horrified if anyone were to read my words. For me, anyway, the diary fulfils several goals. It’s an aide memoir when you need to remember when, where and with whom you did what and why! And it’s like a conversation you have with yourself, no holds barred, chastising both yourself and others, triumphant when things go right , whingeing at the unfairness of life, critical of those who interrupted your own personal rhythms, a place to expound your own theories and philosophies of subjects, metaphysical, existential and downright prosaic et cetera et cetera. But did that stop me reading Alan Rickman’s diaries? No it didn’t!


I did wonder whether those of us who are diary keepers respond to someone else’s diaries differently from those who are not diarists. I found myself understanding many of Mr. Rickman’s comments that were not always complimentary about friends and colleagues but I can imagine people that don’t keep diaries feeling outraged perhaps. I also wonder how much editing went on of entries that might be deeply contentious.


Something I found fascinating as someone who tends to be a little starstruck at times was the multitude of entries referring to “famous people“ who are his friends. People like Emma Thompson and Ruby Wax with whom he did everyday things like meet for lunch or go round their houses. These diaries offer us a personal insight into people we know only from their work on stage and screen.


It was interesting also, to read his take in response to events I had only read about in the news. I remember being sad, objectively, reading about the death of Natasha Richardson but for Alan Rickman it was devastating because she and her husband, Liam Neeson, were good friends of his. 


It was very revealing to read of Mr. Rickman’s thoughts about his own art and craft, the highs and the lows, the creative frustrations and the ultimate successes alongside those irks that all of us have from time to time with plumbers and electricians and the problems of owning property!


And I found it profoundly moving as Mr Rickman descended into his terminal illness how the entries became brief, monosyllabic almost. And after reading I felt sad that we’ve lost a man so talented, so creative and so intelligently critical of himself and the world he inhabited.


I was fortunate enough to win a copy of this book from a Canongate Books draw! My diary entry for that day was very upbeat! 😉 

The Judas Tree - Amanda Jennings - Blog Tour

 


 In spite of the fact that this turned out to be an e-read rather than a physical book with its annoying split lines and non-uniform font sizes not to mention the publishers mark every few pages I could not put this down! I was riveted.


Psychological thrillers are plentiful these days but I think what makes this story stand out is that it has some points to make as well as being an entertaining and page turning read.


Let us examine the blurb for a moment……


‘At a bleak boys’ boarding school in Cornwall in the eighties when bullying is rife, Will and his best friend, Luke, are involved in a horrific incident that results in Luke leaving.

Twenty-five years later their paths cross again and memories of a painful childhood come flooding back to haunt them both.

Will’s wife, Harmony, is struggling after a miscarriage that has hit her hard, and wishes Will would open up about what happened. But as Will withdraws further, she finds herself drawn to the charismatic stranger from her husband’s past, Luke, and soon all three are caught in a tangled web of guilt and desire . . .’


One of those rare things  - a blurb that encapsulates concisely all the salient points about the book!


The main characters, Harmony, Will and Luke are skilfully constructed and developed.But the bit part players are no less fundamental to the novel. It’s a fast paced narrative so critical for a psychological thriller but the pace never obscures the issues at the heart of this story. Issues that will put your emotions through the wringer.It’s dark but ultimately redemptive.

I suppose what chills the most is the deep-rooted effects of bullying and the deep scars that can be left not to mention the devastation of miscarriages. The balance between the domestic/psychological thriller element and the wider topics is well executed. I also thought it was well plotted and there were hints all the way through which keeps the reader on their toes and always guessing.

What I also found interesting is that this book was originally published in 2014 under a different title – the Judas Scar. A reissued publication from HQ stories that will hopefully catapult the book towards a new audience. At the end of the book the author offers a perceptive and fascinating insight into the provenance of the story and her writing of it.


My thanks to HQ stories for a place upon the blog tour.

Wednesday 23 November 2022

A Tale for the Time Being - Ruth Ozeki

 


This is my second Ruth Ozeki book this year and both of them have been Canongate Books readalongs . And I am much the richer for the experiences. This is a quite extraordinary novel steeped in Zen and quantum philosophy and expanded within the delicate, expansive prose that is the hallmark of Ruth Ozeki’s writing. An exploration of time – of pasts and presents. Two of the protagonists in the novel, Ruth and Oliver, made me wonder whether there was an autobiographical slant to the story. Did the author come into possession of a Japanese teenager’s diary? Or is it a way of emphasising the writer’s personal stance on writing and time? It’s a fascinating device, for sure.


It is a deep novel that touches on some fundamental aspects of contemporary life yet also encompasses timeless, enduring truths and philosophies. There are abundant footnotes to explain the Japanese words and there are several informative appendices dealing with some of the ideologies covered in the book. It’s a multilayered narrative with letters, diaries and straightforward first person storytelling. It’s rich, evocative and profoundly thought-provoking.


Nao’s story delivered through her conversational diary will tug at your heart, she endures so much. And Ruth takes her role as anonymous confidante to the ultimate. There are some unforgettable characters –  104-year-old Jiko , so wise, so influential. Nao, herself, and her father whose true integrity is only revealed towards the end of the story all weave their way into Ruth‘s life on Vancouver Island. 


Both Ruth’s story and Nao’s seem to punctuate each other, almost as if they are coexistent. There is a sense of magic running through the story, inexplainable occurrences that imply a strange karmic connection between both writers - Ruth and Nao. 


Like many works of substance it is futile to try and pin it down,  for thoughts keep presenting themselves long after the book is closed and a review is written! But surely that is the mark of an extremely good book?

 

My thanks to Canongate Books for a gifted copy and the opportunity to be part of the readalong.

Tuesday 15 November 2022

Lucy by the Sea - Elizabeth Strout

 


Part of me dreaded a spate of covid-19/lockdown novels although I understand the need to express the tangle of emotion that the situation provokes in so many of us. But having just finished this novel of Elizabeth Strout’s I feel it just might be the definitive pandemic novel. It’s so astute and perceptive to the needs of the individual and the many that I felt completely blown away by it. It’s a Lucy Barton novel. I’ve read them all now and I love them. Olive Kitteridge puts in an appearance too which further endeared the novel to me! But I think it would have worked as a pandemic novel whoever the characters may have been, the fact that it is Lucy Barton just adds to the richness because for the first time the reader has a shared experience with the characters in the novel.  We can examine put own feelings and reaction to lockdown and compare them with Lucy’s and William’s. It’s a strange thing but it brings us closer to the character.

In Oh William we learnt of Lucy’s marriage and divorce from William but we also saw the strength of their friendship. This is further explored in Lucy by the Sea as she and William enter lockdown together in a Maine beach house. Strout uses the lockdown situation to explore relationships and examine them in close proximity but she also ensures that there is no falling out of touch with the wider world - events like the riots in the Capitol and the murder of George Floyd are referenced. Ongoing situations from the previous book are developed and a satisfying sense of continuity prevails.

Strout’s  style, as ever, delights. The almost confidential, conversational easy flowing narrative belies the earnest and sober states that are being written about. And we can see that Lucy has existed in a kind of lockdown all her life, but her utterance at the conclusion of the book was so profoundly true in its simplicity and clarity that it fair took my breath away!

‘We are all in lockdown, all the time.We just don’t know it, that’s all.’

Lucy is older now, not as old as me yet! But I will be sad when there are no more Lucy Barton novels. I’ve come to view her as an acquaintance of sorts whose intrinsic vulnerability and self doubt I can relate to and so much comfort and reassurance is derived from such characters.

Like Flies from Afar - K.Ferrari translated by Adrian Nathan West

 

Oh this is delicious, darkly humorous, violent and irreverent but oh my goodness what an entertaining and immersive read it is. Wonderfully translated by Adrian Nathan West Like Flies from Afar follows the rather unpleasant Luis Machi through a torturous few hours after he discovers a corpse chained in the trunk of his flashy BMW. Nouveau Riche, self-made Machi who snorts his way through life and tosses people aside like discarded tissues is consumed by thoughts of who could possibly have set him up in this way. He is as crooked as the day is long so it’s unsurprising that somebody might be out to get him. But in this bitingly sharp, satirical Argentinian noir Ferrari has concisely taken us on a rollercoaster ride that you don’t really want to stop no matter how distasteful some of the subject matter is. In some ways it reminded me of Pascal Garnier. You know you shouldn’t but you’re almost rooting for the protagonist to succeed. And sometimes you can’t believe that anybody has the audacity to behave as Machi does much less an author finding the words to shock and entertain in one fell swoop. It’s crisp, muscular writing that gives you just enough detail to let your imagination run free. And that ending! Oh what a stroke of genius! This is the kind of story that could be made into such a good film. Provided it got past the censors that is!


Thanks to my local library for not just having a copy on their shelves but reserving it for me.

Conversations with Friends - Sally Rooney


This book seemed to be all over social media for a while. This can do one of two things to me. It can send me scuttling off in the opposite direction as I flee most manner of potential hype. Or it can set my bookometer into motion so that I can do nothing until I have my grubby, little hands upon the book. You’ve probably realised that with this book the former applied. I did go on to read Normal People not long after it was published.  I enjoyed enough.  But it was the TV adaptation of Conversations with Friends that sent me bookwards.  I enjoyed the screen adaptation immensely. I had also watched Normal People on TV which I didn’t feel was anywhere near as good as the book.So my logic told me that if I enjoyed the “Conversations …” series the book would be even better!  Was it?

For a debut novel ‘Conversations…’ is impressive. It is an erudite, intellectual novel populated by sharp and acerbic characters. The exploration of relationships is piercingly perceptive and the understanding of the characters is so acute you feel they are people you’ve come across at some point in your life. There were times when I couldn’t stand any of them for various reasons -  apathy, judgemental, opinionated, needy but there were also times when all four of them broke my heart. A curious paradox. Or is it? Isn’t that what people in real life do to us all the time? And I think that’s what made the novel seem very real. What I didn’t get, though, especially given that ‘Conversations….’ is the title is why the entire novel lacked any kind of speech marks. I get the rebellious writer thing - wanting to eschew all the constraints of grammar and punctuation. But then go the whole hog. Ditch the capital letters and full stops, do the entire e e cummings thing or have I missed something fundamental? I understand that some people will have the opinion that the omission of speech punctuation forced the reader to attend more closely to what was actually being said. That’s an interesting concept and I guess as readers we are also individual. That wouldn’t apply to me. Maybe that’s paradox because obviously I noticed there weren’t any but I don’t think the inclusion or omission would have any effect on how I processed the writing. 


On paper the synopsis sounds like a regular run-of-the-mill affair novel. Two best friends, once lovers, meet up with a married couple and become friends. One of the best friends has an affair with one of the couple. But the thrust of the book is more about the interrelationships, the dynamics between all of them and how each individual character deals with the situations they’re in. It’s compelling and it’s fascinating as each of the characters cross paths with each other in various ways and their frequent failures to understand where the other is coming from.


So, was the book better than the series? In many ways the series was very faithful to the book there was swathes of dialogue lifted straight from the text. But there was some juxtaposition of events and locations. But overall I think I prefer the book! That’s usually the case.I’ve got mixed feelings about this desire to translate work of fiction to the small, or the large screen. I like that it can bring a new audience to an author and maybe inspire them to seek out the books for themselves. That can only be a good thing.


Sunday 6 November 2022

Urgent Matters - Paula Rodriguez - Blog Tour


Argentinian crime noir? Not a term you’re familiar with I’ll be bound. But I bet you said the same at the advent of the Scandi noir phenomenon. If this novel by Paula Rodriguez is anything to go by Argentinian noir may be the next big thing.

However I experienced a bothersome paradox while reading this. Murder is no laughing matter and this story deals with some serious issues, but I found threads of humour running through the story. A black comedy noir maybe?


The title derives from Saint Expeditus, the patron saint of……. urgent matters….. and this Christian martyr could almost be considered as another character in the story. In truth I found it hard to warm to any of the characters, except maybe Evelyn suffering those dilemmas of puberty that provoke sometimes inappropriate responses and actions. But I’m wondering if this was intentional on the part of the author? One of the other characters I enjoyed though was Monica. The paradox was a fine balance of comedy and sobriety. The characterisations are all solid and drive the narrative forward.


Hugo, partner of Marta, father of Evelyn, is on the run for murder. But he happens to be on a train which crashes in Buenos Aires. He escapes the wreckage. No one is sure if he’s dead or alive including those closest to him. The novel revolves around the investigation involving the police, his family, the local mafia and considers how corruption seems to be at the heart of all and impacts on whether justice can ever, ultimately, be served.


A spiders web of characters react and interact across the novel which is admirably translated from the Spanish by Sarah Moses who has retained the South American flavour of the prose and with the author create a palpable picture of Argentina.


The novel exposes the shortcomings of the media and the police that in turn lay bare the frailties and the egos of those affected by the entire situation. But there are no neat resolutions at the end of the novel either, the reader is left to ponder the outcomes of subtly implied conclusions. I found it absorbing and quite compelling in places, disjointed in others, as indeed life can be, especially when people are propelled into extreme circumstances.


It’s a promising debut novel from an erstwhile journalist and writer who has confined herself to non-fiction up to this point and I await her future work with interest.


My thanks to Pushkin Press for a gifted copy and a place upon the blog tour. 


Thursday 3 November 2022

The Fugitives - Jamal Mahjoub

 My previous encounter with this writer was via one of his Crane and Drake novels, The Trenches,  under the name Parker Bilal which I enjoyed immensely. So I was thrilled to get my hands on a copy of The Fugitives thanks to Canongate Books.


Interwoven with an engaging humour The Fugitives tells the story of the Kamanga Kings, disbanded now but a cult jazz band from the Sudan. The thoroughly likeable Rushdy who is the son of an original band member is instrumental (no pun intended) in responding to a request from Washington DC inviting the group to perform by encouraging them to reform, albeit with a different lineup. And so the action takes place in the Sudan and in the USA subtly allowing the reader to grapple with the differences between two cultures, two nations.


The book is as entertaining as the music that the mighty Kamanga Kings play, jazz aficionados will love it. It’s original and treads a tightrope between humour and the serious. It achieves an almost perfect balance between expansive humanity and abrasive politics. Trump is president need I say more? So themes of Islamophobia and racism are present. But somehow, in spite of the gravity of such themes the book never presents as too intense or oppressive.


The characters just leap off the page at you, quirky, imperfect, but human and real. Rushdy is the cement that glues them all together and if sometimes the action borders on the almost farcical it is Rushdy who brings us back to the most serious. I loved him because he doesn’t always see what’s right under his nose but his motive seems so pure and well intended the way he flounders made me want to give him a big hug.


There are some wonderful observations in the book - ‘ When life begins to fade, it’s the bright moments that stand out.’ uttered by the ageing Alkanary, another of my favourite characters perhaps because she was older and I could identify with her.

Some of the soul-searching exchanges between Rushdy and his best friend Hisham contain similar truths - ‘We should be living in the present, thinking of now, and of the future, not tying ourselves to a dream our parents had.’


The music too is palpable and it’s almost as if the book has a syncopated beat that runs through it to mirror the musical numbers that the Kings play. It’s a celebration of music, of jazz and of how unifying music can be. 


As a story it’s an absolute delight, with some cliffhangers (almost literally!), it entertains and it seeks to provoke some consideration from the reader on a variety of themes. I really enjoyed the writing. It was one of those books that left me with a sense of satisfaction when I concluded it.


Blues People - LeRoi Jones (Amiri Baraka)

 


I first came across LeRoi Jones in my pocket poet edition of the Beat poets which I bought in 1973, which contains his poem Way Out West which he wrote for Gary Snyder. So he’s always been in my consciousness as one of the ‘Beats’. In that poem he refers to Nat King Cole underlining his appreciation and understanding of the importance of music within the common consciousness. Criticised for communism, anti Semitism and homophobia during his lifetime Jones remained outspoken regarding his beliefs. So I was intrigued when Canongate Books offered me the opportunity for a gifted copy of ‘Blues People’ republished this year.


‘ The middle-class black man bases his whole existence on the hopeless hypothesis that no one is supposed to remember that for almost three centuries there was slavery in America, that the white man was the master and the black man the slave. This knowledge, however, is at the root of the legitimate black culture of this country. It is this knowledge, with its attendant muses of self-division, self-hatred, stoicism, and finally quixotic optimism, but informs the most meaningful of Afro-American music.‘ 


LeRoi Jones seminal work on ‘Negro music in white America’ is an erudite and intellectual consideration of the development of blues and jazz. But it is also a condensed and passionate history of African Americans from the early days of that living genocide, known as slavery, through to 60’s America. This updated version contains a introduction by Jones, (who changed his name in 1965 to Amiri Baraka) in 1999. 


It’s a powerful work that also exists as a sociocultural history of a people but intertwined with the development of some niche genres of music. Music has always been unifying force at numerous levels. It can express, as most art forms can, the most intense feelings and passions. 


‘What was so powerful and desperate in this music that guaranteed its continued existence? The music was an orchestrated, vocalised, hummed, chanted, blown, beaten, scatted, corollary confirmation of the history’


Blues, jazz, soul, R&B are all dissected within this deceptively slender volume. It’s a book that will assist any attempt to learn and understand about the history of black America. And it’s almost as if the music is the tool with which that history is being told and unfolded. It’s a substantial piece of work that seeks to analyse in depth without bias towards any one musician or genre. It allows the reader a detailed overview of blues and jazz which is fascinating. But it also offers the reader food for thought that is particularly pertinent within the context of #BlackLivesMatter in our contemporary world.


My thanks to Canongate Books for my copy.


Wednesday 2 November 2022

The Garden of Evening Mists - Tan Twan Eng

 


This is a quite breathtakingly beautiful novel about one woman’s attempt to find closure for the atrocities she and her family suffered at the hands of the Japanese in World War II. It’s a multilayered book and really defies any meaningful synopsis. On one hand it is an ambitious work and on another it presents as a work with some staggeringly simple truths. So many themes are explored within the expansive, poetic narrative. It examines memory, those we choose to remember and those we choose to forget. It explores the futility of war and conflict. There’s the politics and history of south east Asia contained within its pages The book is full of love and hate and prompts us to reflect on how the two can often become entangled into one indefinable emotion. The book is in some ways a study of paradoxes, the devastation of war combines with the creation of beauty exemplified by the garden of Aritomo. In fact it’s a sublime observation of yin and yang at work. 

There is a collision of cultures, Malaysian, South African, Chinese, Japanese. There are secrets and revelations, there are mysteries solved and unsolved. There is violence and there’s peace. And running through it all is the garden. Aritomo’s garden, which symbolises so much of how life could be, should be lived?


Yun Ling is the constant in the story and in many ways it is her story. But like many stories there are numerous others who play a part, appearing and disappearing, fading in and fading out. And I think the story shows how people touch our lives, for good and for bad and how their actions leave footprints on our souls. It’s a haunting story. Something else I find fascinating was that as I began to read I believed this story to be the work of a female writer. It isn’t. And I was impressed by the sensitivity and empathy toward the female perspective. Despite some of the disturbing incidents in the book, overall I found it to be a book of peace and calm.


I’m not surprised that it was shortlisted for an award. It is not a run-of-the-mill novel. It is a work of literature. I was lucky enough to take part in Canongate Books readalong which offered me the opportunity to read and reflect upon the book in sections which is not normally how I like to read but it seemed perfect for this particular book.

Friday 28 October 2022

The Winter Garden - Nicola Cornick

 What seems to start as a pleasant little histfic about Gunpowder Plot conspirator Robert Catesby soon morphs into a tidy, dual timeline, supernatural, almost cosy crime caper. It’s a pleasing balance sure to engage lovers of historical fiction and those who like a little otherworldly intrigue.


For me the mark of good historical fiction is whether the reading of it makes me want to find out more. I did. I knew of Robert Catesby and his part in the Gunpowder Plot on a superficial level, this book just made me want to find out more about him, Anne his mother, and his wife Catherine.


The story is told from the perspectives of two engaging female characters. Anne Catesby mother of Robert, and Lucy, an erstwhile professional musician whose career is curtailed due to debilitating post viral syndrome.


It is the titular winter garden that links the two women. The garden is in the former home of Catesby and now owned by Lucy’s aunt Verity, another indomitable female character in the story. Lucy convalesces in the Gunpowder Barn at Knightstone and has visions of a woman in a Tudor dress.


Both stories have suspenseful moments , both very different but the weaving the two story lines appears seamless. The historical research is sound, giving us a fair impression of what it must have been like for  families forced to subdue their true religious beliefs. The archaeological details also present plausibly. The two male characters, Finn and Johnny, demonstrate a keen passion for their undertaking. Their stories start to bubble alongside Lucy’s adding to the sense of mystery within the story. It would be a disservice for potential readers to detail too much more of the plot so I’ll say no more!


It’s a well constructed novel as one might expect from an experienced  novelist like Nicola Cornick, well paced, with attention to relevant details and enough intrigue to carry the reader willing along, to seek the truth and answers from those in the past…….and the present.


My thanks to HQ stories for a gifted copy and a place upon the blog tour.



Thursday 20 October 2022

All Island No Sea - Chris Campbell - Blog Tour


What I love about Chris Campbell’s work is that he takes the ordinary, the unexceptional, the mundane even, and elevates them poetically into something of greater depth. He has a way of placing events into perspective as he did with his previous collection White Eye of the Needle (reviewed on my blog last year)

https://bookphace.blogspot.com/2021/05/white-eye-of-needle-chris-campbell.html

This new book offers us his take on an eclectic mix of topics from moving house to the beauty of the natural world. It’s unpretentious and honest work with the poet uncannily putting his finger on the salient.

I especially loved That Which We Own where concepts of ownership are delicately explored’

Do you own a tree if it stands
in your garden? Is a shirt
yours if it hangs from your rack?


and

‘I don’t possess nature, I only borrow
clothes. I transfer money, my food
‘belongs to me only while I eat -‘


I found Ostrich poignant where the poet considers his granddad who would have been ninety nine.

‘…I wonder if your rhubarb still grows;

if your books now gather dust on
somebody else’s shelf?’


They are poems that strike a chord within us and persuade us to reflect on our own lives and situations in ways perhaps that had not occurred to us before.

I also enjoyed Morning very much where the poet describes morning under canvas and considers whether the reality we are in at that moment is the only reality.

‘We see the trees converse,
                            swaying after staying
up all night
and our beds at home are forgotten
like distant                    relatives,
as if we were meant to exist here all along.’


There is no sense of being preached at, no attempt at dogmatism, it’s as if the poet is saying, “Here’s what I think, how about you?” It’s a gentle, harmonious collection of thoughts and ideas to be savoured and pondered over time. And of the title? My first thought was ‘No Man is an Island’. But it refers to a specific poem midway through the collection of a metaphysical nature and could easily merit a blog post all of its own! Powerful images. 

All Island, No Sea’ is inspired by the arrival of a newborn into Campbell’s family, an upheaval of a house move, and the love for his family which invigorates his life. It also combats how he feels about his own body across the passing of time with a humour and fun that characterises Campbell’s poetry as a whole.

Author Biography:

Chris Campbell is a former journalist living in Bristol. He now works in PR and is a Rotary GB&I Young Writer National Final judge.

‘All Island No Sea’ is Chris’ third poetry book following ‘White Eye of the Needle’ (2021) and ‘Bread Rolls and Dresden’ (2013). His poems have appeared, or are forthcoming, in Dreich, Indigo Dreams’ The Dawntreader, The Waxed Lemon, Streetcake, Yuzu Press, Green Ink Poetry and Lothlorien Poetry Journal. Chris won The Portico Library’s ‘Poetry Prize’ (2021) and has featured on BBC Radio Bristol. Visit www.chriscampbellpoetry.co.uk.



My thanks to Isabelle Kenyon for inviting me to the blog tour and to Chris Campbell for a gifted, signed copy.

 

Monday 17 October 2022

Harvey’s Hutch - Philip Dodd


 It’s often astounded me today how celebrities, for want of a better word, feel that after a short time in the public eye they are compelled to offer their life story in book form. I have held the belief that a true autobiography should be attempted towards the maturer years as it is only then that a true reflection of life‘s journey and it’s lessons can really be effectively written about. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve read and enjoyed some of these autobiographies and been thoroughly entertained but often been left with the feeling that the lives I’m reading about are only half lived and there’s more to come. The other thing that strikes me is that when you remove the celebrity aspect of these books what you have left is………. ordinary lives of ordinary people or extraordinary lives of extraordinary people because really we’re all rather unique. And I think that if we were all compelled as part of some dystopian direction to write our own memoirs we would all come up with our own anecdotes and observations that might be interesting and entertaining to read.


And that brings me neatly to the subject of this blog piece, this charming memoir of Philip Dodd – Harvey’s Hutch. It’s not an autobiography, as such, it is very much a memoir where Dodd likens memories to mirrors in a quite captivating way and demonstrates how a pivotal event in a younger life can impact irrevocably on their future life. Here the four-year-old Phil finds that Harvey, much beloved rabbit, has disappeared in the night through a hole in the wire mesh of his hutch. 


Dodd’s memory mirrors allows us glimpses into his life and his philosophies of life. It’s a gentle lyrical consideration of people and events that may have contributed to the person he has become. It’s full of relatable anecdotes, well relatable if you’re a certain age I guess! I am! And so it was sheer delight to read of life in the 60s with  Ready Steady Go, the progress of the Beatles (Liverpool feature strongly as Mr Dodd’s hometown), the crumbling of Oxo cubes and the sobering reminder of how the war shaped our parents. I thrilled at some of the parallels between my life and this writer’s. From a hutched pet in early years to the desire to pursue literature, the impact of family and friends from our younger years and that profound sense of loss when beloved grandparents pass away.


It’s a memoir of honesty and earnest belief. I found something so profoundly refreshing about the lack of desire to impress the reader that is so often present in other such works and it was also very moving. it  is taking those things that happen in our lives and giving them a credibility that is uplifting when you read because you can identify and think, oh yes, I remember. We all have mirrors, they hold the reflection of our very souls. Not all of us have the capacity to commit them to a full length book as Philip Dodd has done. And done so very well.


My thanks to Librarything and the author himself for my gifted copy.