The Swell - L.G.Jenkins

 I’ve read both stories in the Crowned Worthy series by Lydia Jenkins and I love them. I’m a fan of dystopian fiction overall. I love the way that authors fuse those things we take for granted in our present world and manipulate them in various ways in a futuristic world. It can only serve to encourage us to consider the future of our societies.

The Swell is a digital novella which probably accounts for my hesitation in downloading and reading it as I prefer physical books. I never want to live in a dystopia, where there are no paper books! But I can’t really call myself a fan of Ms. Jenkins work if I don’t put aside my ereading antipathy. Reader, I did! I downloaded it.

One of the main ideas in The Swell is the opposite of inherited wealth - inherited debt. Jonathan Plank, who is 60, which means in this dystopia that he only has five more years left before his “departure“ by the Corporation. (Reminded me a bit of Logan’s Run, but they only got to live to be 30!) that’s not just five years left to live, it’s five years left to try and earn enough to pay off his inherited debt otherwise his children will inherit it. 

Jonathan is an interesting character because he is at heart a moral and upstanding man but the story shows us what despair can do to an individual - a despair borne out of love for his children and their descendants. I don’t want to spoil the plot. Suffice to say I found elements of The Hunger Games and Noughts and Crosses in the atmospheres and events described which gave rise to some interesting moral considerations in the story. Towards the end when all seems lost for Jonathan there was an unexpected twist. 

‘Make good decisions. Take it from someone who’s made a lot of bad ones.’ 

That’s the advice Jonathan is given from another character at the end of the book.The final chapter is a lovely device that works so well in a short story, a seemingly ordinary concluding chapter where the conflict and hopelessness that Jonathan carried with him seems to have been overshadowed by those values in life that we need, that we should place above others - love, honesty, friendship.

The short story is often an underrated genre. Whatever fiction genres you enjoy I think this story encapsulates so much of what is valuable about a short story. It’s succinct, thought provoking and reaches a resolution that is ultimately satisfying.

The Girl in the Eagle’s Talons - Karin Smirnoff translated by Sarah Death

 

Some years ago my mother died. She died peacefully in her sleep. On the bed beside her was a copy of The Girl Who Played With Fire. She had noted the place she’d reached with a bookmark. For some strange reason, I felt compelled to finish reading the book for her. I thought it would please her, so I did.  I had no preconceptions about the book. But, oh my, I got hooked. I was then hungry to read the entire trilogy!  And somehow in that time of deep and intense grief Lisbeth Salander was just the character I needed to give me the strength to deal with my loss. And ever, since then Lisbeth has been one of my literary heroines. I devoured the three books that David Lagercrantz wrote after Stieg Larsson‘s premature demise. I was delighted to learn that the next three books would be written by a female author. I was even more delighted to snaffle a proof from the wonderful MacLehose Press. And once I held a copy in my greedy little hands, I couldn’t put it down.

I’m not going to give away anything of the plot, Suffice to say it’s a good one! Devotees of the series will not be disappointed. And I think it works as a standalone for people who have not read the previous books. Of course it helps to know Lisbeth’s history because you can understand her better. But I found we have a more mature, maybe even slightly mellower Lisbeth, but only slightly though! She’s still kicking butt like nobody else. And we have an older Mikael Blomkvist dealing with the end of Millenium magazine as a print publication. Some other characters make a return, but I’m not going to divulge that. 

The action takes place in a northern Sweden, and we learn that Lisbeth has a niece whose mother has vanished without trace. The character of Svala is a new one but she is so clearly Lisbeth’s niece it made me chuckle. The dynamic between the two is wonderful. Karen Smirnoff has done such a good job.

The ghost of Stieg Larsson pervades the whole narrative. He’s even mentioned at one point. I felt him more keenly here than I did in David Lagercrantz’s books. It’s a complex plot that looks at conspiracies, greed and brutality. Larsson examined attitudes and violence towards women. Ms Smirnoff has taken up the mantle and continued this thematic exploration. 

The narrative sparkles along with detail and action striking a good balance. The complications that relationships bring are explored on several levels and serve to embellish the main thrust of the story surrounding the natural resources of that region and the criminal interventions that threaten to thwart the integrity of an initiative in the area of Gasskas.

It’s a thriller and it’s a mystery and it has some social comment. The translation is excellent, smooth and flowing, losing nothing, you feel, from the original Swedish. I can’t wait for the next instalment!

Gallow Falls - Alex Nye

 

I’ve read several books by Alex Nye now and what continues to astound me is the diversity she brings to her work. You simply can’t pigeonhole her in any one genre or style. I find that incredibly exciting and I will always seek out her books.

Her current work is Gallow Falls, a crime thriller. And reading it you’d think that Ms. Nye has been writing crime stories all her career. A missing teenager is at the heart of the story. It’s a great plot, tight, well executed with some multi dimensional characters that allow a depth to the crime story that is often lacking. It’s not just about the crime it’s about the people ensnared in its spider web. Ex cop Callum McGarvey is wrested unwillingly from his quiet, country life by a good friend who awards him the mantle of private investigator, not a role, he relishes. The friend, Joan, is a wonderful character with a tenacity that ensures momentum. Laura, a young archaeologist, is the character with whom the author creates a deep sense of unease as she works in solitude at Gallow Falls, excavating a Bronze Age broch where a number of unpleasant incidents suggest somebody doesn’t want her pursuing her goal. This trio of characters are determined to seek out the truth of what happened to Robbie MacBride. There are sub plots and a fine menu of red herrings that has the reader jumping to wrong conclusions. My suspicions grew firmer as I reached the latter part of the book but I could not determine the details. Yet looking back I guess all the clues were there or at the very least hinted at. 

The Scottish landscape and countryside also play a very important part in the story, particularly for Ruthie, who sees all, but says nothing. She understands and knows the woods like the  back of her hand. Location also provides some of the atmosphere for the book too. It’s almost like an additional character. It’s a story that will have you turning page after page desperate to find out what’s happened. 

Often crime stories form part of a series with the crime solving personnel appearing in each story. I think there is the potential for Callum McGarvey to be one of those people! But I’m not sure that Alex Nye would be happy, confining herself to one genre! What’s the betting she might even go down a science-fiction or fantasy path next?

The Marriage Portrait - Maggie O’Farrell

 You know that when you get your hands on a book by Maggie O’Farrell, you’re in capable hands. There are some writers who inspire an implicit confidence that when you pick up their work you just know it’s going to be good.

 It seems to be quite in vogue for authors of historical fiction to take, perhaps, a lesser-known person from history and using the known facts create an illuminating fiction around them. I can think most recently of Elizabeth Fremantle with Disobedient, which tells of Artemisia Gentileschi. Maggie O’Farrell has taken Lucrezia Medici and catapulted her short life into a wider consciousness with this enthralling story

16th century Italy is recreated down to the last detail and is a testament to the extensive research that must have taken place. We are there with Lucrezia from her conception almost and we’re rooting for her all the way. She is a maverick amongst her siblings, unique, intelligent, and alert to the cunning machinations of the Italian Renaissance Court. So many royal marriages in times gone by were arranged and purely political and it was nothing for a groom to marry another sibling if the first intended expired. Such is the case here when the very young Lucrezia marries the Duke of Ferrara.

A finely honed imagination is at work here and that combined with the historical research and the sparkling narrative produces an absolutely enthralling story that I don’t think you’ll want to put down once you start it. The book was shortlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction. It was a Guardian Book of the Year and a Reese’s Bookclub pick. And it’s easy to see why.

The story was inspired by Robert Browning’s poem, the Last Duchess. and O’ Farrell uses this as another ingredient in this recipe for Renaissance reverie. At times, there is a curiously fairytale sense as we navigate the narrative,  indeed, Lucrezia’s father has a menagerie in the bowels of his palace, and the very young Lucrezia has some kind of bond with the captive tiger, a metaphorical empathy, perhaps?  And if Browning was writing a poem about a portrait, O’ Farrell has created a portrait of words, an animated landscape almost, the visual quality of the writing is intense.

It’s a novel of high quality, rich, one of those books that fills you up to overflowing with the glorious prose and leaves you slightly deflated when you come to the end. (Although the end was a corker, let me just say!)

My thanks to Tandem Collective for a gifted copy of this book. And I can only apologise for being late with my review.

The Good Liars - Anita Frank

 

I read The Lost Ones a while ago.  It was a “big house“ story which I love with myriad themes and which satisfied a variety of genres. This latest book from Anita Frank does similar. The big house is not as big and whilst there are some spine tingling moments it is not as spooky which suits me fine as I don’t do scary too well. We are still in a similar era,  just post World War I.

‘In the summer of 1914 a boy vanishes, never to be seen again. Now, in 1920, the once esteemed Stilwell family of Darkacre Hall find themselves struggling with the legacy of the First World War. Leonard bears the physical scars, while his brother Maurice has endured more than his mind can take. Morris‘s wife Ida yearns for the lostdays of privilege and pleasure and family friend Victor seems on willing to move on. But their lives are thrown into further disarray when the missing boy’s case is reopened – and this time they themselves are under police scrutiny. As the dead return to haunt the living, old resentments resurface and loyalties are tested, while secrets risk being unearthed that could destroy them all.’

A missing person is at the heart of this engrossing story set around Darkacre (how fabulous a  name is that, Dickens would be proud!) Hall. The residents are all coping with the fallout of war; physical, mental and emotional scars affect them all. It becomes clear however that everything is not as it seems with a complex chain of events that reinforce this for the astute reader who may be doing all kinds of mental gymnastics to figure out exactly what is going on. I have to confess I did in part figure out a few things but not the finer details.

The historical research is extensive and convincing. The narrative sparkles along at just the right pace.  The characters are well defined and catch the readers’ interest. It wasn’t easy to like some of them, but then I don’t think we needed to. It’s storytelling at its best engaging the readers attention and demanding that they play their part. The twist towards the end is great. I did have my suspicions and I was pretty pleased with myself when they were partly confirmed.

It’s not without some distressing moments, but they are crucial to the plot. The sense of tension within the household is sustained throughout. As a reader I felt quite edgy at times. It’s a book with abundant imagination. And because it seems to cover several genres, it should satisfy a wealth of readers.

I haven’t read Anita Frank’s second book, The Return, but I’m pretty sure that omission is going to be rectified soon. 😉

My thanks to the HQ stories publicity team for my gifted copy.

Anatomy of a Killer - Romy Hausmann translated by Jamie Bulloch

 

As always Romy Haussman defies, not genre per se, but genre convention. This is a story about a murderer, a serial killer. Another one, you might be thinking? But when it’s in the hands of Ms. Haussman you just know it’s going be different. She seems to have that uncanny knack of turning events upside down and inside out.

Walter Lesniak, a renowned academic, is arrested on suspicion of several murders of young girls in the Berlin area. His daughter, Ann, refuses to believe he is guilty of such heinous crimes. She is determined to prove his innocence. 

With no punches pulled an enigmatic, yet informative prologue launches the reader into this immersive thriller. As one might expect from Romy Haussman, the plot is intricate, detailed and requires the readers’ full attention. 

The narrative takes us back to the past and into the present seen through Ann’s eyes primarily but there are sections that are of somebody else’s voice. Other devices used are interview transcripts, newspaper articles and some writings from Ann herself as a child that describe her appreciation of a range of human emotion. They are, quite endearingly, written from the child’s perspective. Hats off to the translator, the inimitable Jamie Bullock, who has done a fantastic job throughout the whole book, but I love what he’s done with these pieces from Ann where there’s missing punctuation and some childlike spelling. 

I think another aspect of Hausmann’s writing is that it’s rarely linear storytelling. The psychological make up of the characters plays a large part in how the narrative plays out and shows the author to be an astute observer of human behaviour. But it also shows an understanding of the psychological thriller genre, and how you can, in a sense, attempt to manipulate your readers into thinking things are a certain way when actually they’re not. As you read, you find yourself asking questions of Ann and her state of mind. And you will never ever sure if a father is guilty of the crimes which has been accused. That is curiously unnerving and throws you off balance.

It’s a substantial work. And it’s a curious phenomenon in a lot of ways because it’s one of those books that you don’t want to put down, you want to carry on reading in that way that many thrillers and crime stories have you do simply to find out what happened, or who ‘Dunn it’ yet you’re not often required to think a great deal along the way. It’s an entertaining exposition.  But here, there is more depth in terms of character and motivation that has you thinking all the way through. I’m not going to give away any of the salient points or twists of the plot but the final denouement is an eye-opener. And again it gets you thinking. It is such a satisfying experience to read a Romy Hausmann book. 

My thanks to Ana McLaughlin at Quercus Books for a gifted proof

Euphoria - Elin Cullhed translated byJennifer Hayashida

 I think in reading a book like this the reader has to remember that it is a work of fiction not fact. The author takes enormous pains to emphasise this at the start of the novel, but I found it all too easy to become caught up in the narrative and wonder if this WAS how it happened. I’ve referred to Plath’s journals just to check things!

I guess this is such a bold book in attempting to inhabit the mind of one of the world’s greatest poets in marital combat with another of the world’s greatest poets!! The writing is muscular and substantial, and seems to convey the paradox of Plath’s power and weakness both emotionally and intellectually.

The novel focuses on the final year of Sylvia Plath’s life and in this respect it  does follow the sequence of events historically at least. And I imagine the majority of folk coming to this book do so because they have an interest or some knowledge of both Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes, bringing their own perceptions with them. Are those perceptions matching those depicted in the story?

Something I think Cullhed has achieved is to show Plath as a multifaceted person, so real. There were times when I actively disliked her which I found unnerving because I’ve always admired her, certainly as a poet. I had the sense that Plath was on a rollercoaster headed towards disaster and a lot of it was of her own making. I wanted to yell at her to stop! As if that could have changed anything. Ted Hughes doesn’t come across as particularly likeable and yet he was up against a formidable force. I thought the depictions of the children were very real as well.

But how about the reader who comes to this book with no prior knowledge of either Plath or Hughes? What then? They would read a powerful novel of a disintegrating relationship between two people, a contemplation of marriage, motherhood, and how to resolve the mundane every day requirements of those states with a powerful and deep creative force. But however you come to it, it is a book of complexity. I also had the sense of the author’s understanding of Plath’s style, and it was written in a way that Sylvia Plath might have written it herself. The prose is poetic. The novel ends ends significantly, I think, before the tragic event of 11th February1963.

I finished this book in tandem with the news that Sinéad O’Connor had died, which moved me very much as I was a fan of hers too but somehow it seemed fitting.

My thanks to Canongate books for a gifted copy of this paperback.

Those People Next Door - Kia Abdullah

 

I think my neighbours may be a little bemused by the fact that I keep giving them enormous great smiles and enthusiastic waves.  I am always on good terms with them, always exchanged greetings and chats over the fences but after reading this book, I am so, so happy they are my neighbours!

The Khatuns move to a new neighbourhood for a variety of reasons but things start to go horribly wrong when their neighbour removes an anti-racist banner from their front garden. They place the banner inside their window, but the next morning the window is smeared with paint. What follows next in this engrossing novel appears to be an account of a domestic battle spiralling out of control, a war of action and words between two incompatible neighbours, but it develops into nailbiting legal thriller that has you on the edge of your seat. And the twist at the end is a master stroke. I certainly didn’t see it coming.

It’s a very powerful read as well as being a thriller it does raise some interesting issues regarding racism or perhaps prejudice to be more accurate. I’ve not read any of Kia Abdullah’s stories before but I was impressed by the way she dealt with these issues head-on in a way that seems very real. I think the story also highlights the fact that people are not always ready to look at the bigger picture, they’re not always ready to talk and discuss things calmly and appreciate that there can often be more than one point of view and that things are not always as they seem and can be misunderstood. The power and danger of social media as well doesn’t escape this novelist’s eagle eyed pen.

Also, I’m a sucker for a good courtroom exchange so I loved those particular sequences in the book. I think the book also has something to say about friendship and loyalty. I found the narrative well paced and the suspense was well balanced. I did find it hard to warm to many of the characters apart from perhaps Jamie, (and Molly the dog!) But I often think it’s important for a reader to remain impartial in a book like this. And it sure kept me guessing right to the end.

My thanks to Natasha Gill at HQ stories for my copy.

The Beasts of Paris - Stef Penney

 

I’ve read the Tenderness of Wolves and I was blown away by the sheer power of storytelling and this recent novel from Stef Penny has done nothing to dilute that opinion. Boy, she can spin a good yarn.

‘Anne is a former patient from the women’s asylum La Salpetriere, trying to carve out a new life for herself in a world that doesn’t understand her. Newcomer Lawrence is desperate to develop his talent as a photographer and escape the restrictions of his puritanical Canadian upbringing. Ellis, an army surgeon, has lived through the horror of the American Civil War and will do anything to avoid another bloodbath.

Each keeps company with the restless beasts of Paris’s famous menagerie, home and prison to the glamorous predators that draw visitors from all walks of life. Yet these fearsome animals are innocents alongside the looming dogs of war.

In a city under siege through one, terrible, freezing winter, three characters meet, fight their demons, rebel and lose their hearts in this dazzling historical epic of love and survival.’

And so the siege of Paris in 1870 is the backdrop for this sizzling tale of love and idealism and like the most impressive of fireworks starts slowly and explodes into an astonishing, breathtaking conclusion. The concept and breadth of the novel is ambitious and the volume of historical research required to create such a palpable and believable scenario is beyond impressive. Belief is the cement of historical fiction and I never doubted for a moment that I was in the heart of a Paris torn apart by siege and revolution. The plot is vast and tight for the most part and weaving their way within its labyrinth are Lawrence, Ellis and Anne. Lawrence and Ellis are not native Parisians or even Frenchmen. They bring their North American culture to the narrative. Anne, an inmate of the Saltpetriere hospital when the novel begins, is enigmatic and mesmerised by a tiger in the Paris menagerie. Is that where the book gets its title? The Beasts of Paris? I love an enigmatic title, and this one can be taken whichever way you like. The lesser characters are really not lesser at all so good are the characterisations.

There are no punches pulled. Conflict means casualties and there’s plenty of that for Ellis the surgeon. Desperate times provoke desperate behaviours sometimes in the most surprising of people. Tragedy is never far away. All three main characters have their challenges and I wouldn’t want to give too much away for the potential reader, but there are surprises and redemptions, hope even as the story progresses and hurtles towards its culmination.

This is one of those books where you can’t wait to find out what happens but you also dread coming to the end of it you so want the experience to continue. It is superlative writing and there was something so refreshing about somebody who is telling a story with a beginning a middle and end just like we’re told to do! There’s no attempt to be clever or different, no messing with structure or genre, not that there is anything wrong with alternatives but it’s good sometimes to just snuggle down and read a damn, good story.

My thanks to Ana McLaughlin at Quercus Books for a gifted copy.