August Round Up

 Here we are again, another month and I still continue with this round up even though I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who reads it! Never mind. It exists as a diary of my monthly reading. My fears that my age was slowing down my reading were unfounded. I'm back to my average eight books a month total with a decent variety of genre.

First up was a birthday gift. Amy Jeffs' Saints. I've read her previous two books and thoroughly enjoyed therm. I won't say I didn't enjoy this, but I felt it lacked the impact that the other two had on me. It was interesting enough and as usual Amy's research is impeccable but I felt it was lacklustre  compared to the first two.

Next, in a real genre switch, was Amy Lilwall with The Water That May Come. I say genre switch because I read somewhere that this is categorised as cli-fi. Yes, you read that correctly. It's short for climate fiction, I guess. I found it to be an utterly compelling and riveting read until perhaps the latter stage is when I felt it fell off a bit. It was sent to me by the brilliant Isabelle Kenyon from Fly on the Wall Press. It's not published till October so I'm sitting on my review until then. 

William Shaw is one of those authors whose books I will always read. The Red Shore is billed as an Eden Driscoll mystery which suggests it might be the start of a new series. I've no problem with that. I've enjoyed all of William Shaw's detectives, Breen and Tozer, Alexandra Cupidi and the stand alone novels. All crime stories, all well plotted with flawed yet endearing characters. Stories that keep you guessing right till the end. Keep 'em coming, William.

I was waiting to collect a Library book that I'd reserved. And I wasn't the only person that had reserved it so I wanted to make sure I wasn't in the middle of a lengthy tome when I picked it up and I could begin it straight away. I had this book by Susanna Clarke sitting on my shelf. It suggested from the blurb that it's a Christmassy tale, but I didn't mind that. I've loved both of Susanna Clarke's books. In fact, Piranesi is on my forever shelf, it's so wonderful. This didn't disappoint. Quirky, magical, enchanting, it tells of Merowdis who can talk to trees and animals. It has the feel of an allegorical tale and I've a feeling this is going to go on my forever shelf too. (My forever shelf is those books that have such an impact on me. I want to read them again before I die).

And here's the library book I was waiting for! Sophie Haydock's Madame Matisse. I loved The Flames so I was really excited to see what she'd come up with next. Again it's art themed. I reviewed it on my blog here.

https://bookphace.blogspot.com/2025/08/madame-matisse-sophie-haydock.html

I read a Robert Harris book when I was the fortunate recipient of the entire long list for the Walter Scott historical fiction prize in 2023, Act of Oblivion. I enjoyed the book and I gave it to my yoga teacher who is a Harris fan and she reciprocated by giving me her copy of Pompeii. I thoroughly enjoyed it and found it very engrossing. I like the way it was seen through the eyes of four different characters and I think I engaged most with the young engineer, Marcus Attilius. Harris always makes his books believable. The research is incredible. And I learned a lot about aqueducts.

Next up, another Library book, Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid. I was very excited to read this as I loved her previous two books. And this was wonderful. I wrote about it on my blog.

https://bookphace.blogspot.com/2025/08/atmosphere-taylor-jenkins-reid.html

Finally, this month a book from the good folks at HQ stories Phoenicia Rogerson's Aphrodite. There was a whole spate of Greek myth influenced fiction a while back and I thought maybe the infatuation with mythology had ended. But it certainly hasn't. This was joyous. A quirky, witty romp through the lives and loves of mortals and gods with Aphrodite as the main character. I suppose I may find it irreverent but I didn't. I just love the audacity of the goddess of love! Girl Power, heck yeah!

Atmosphere – Taylor Jenkins Reid

 

It might be something of a cliché to say that this book is ‘out of this world’ but it is, and literally in parts!

If a book can make you cry, does that make it a good book? 

Maybe space stories are becoming a ‘thing’ like novels about Greek mythology became and still are a ’thing’. After all a space story won the Booker prize and whilst I don’t think this story will reach those heights, I found it to be an extraordinarily good book. And I cried.

 

Not only is it a cracking good tale but it is rich with atmosphere and some profound speculations and philosophies regarding love, life, God and more. Thematically it looks at the place of women in a male dominated world, female empowerment, attitudes towards sexuality and the impact on life choices. 

 

I suppose it could be considered an historical novel given that it is set in the 1970’s/1980’s when space travel and NASA seemed to be solely the domain of men. We learn of what it takes to become an astronaut, which is fascinating, and we also find out what happens when a mission goes horribly wrong.

 

But the book is subtitled – A Love Story – and it is very much one. I don’t want to give anything away, so I’ll say no more about. But, reader, I cried. It could be argued that it errs on the side of sentimental but, regardless of that, it seems to work. I guess it’s also about love on several levels, romantic, sexual, familial, parental, love of one’s occupation and interests. 

 

The characters, Joan and Vanessa particularly, seem to be the antithesis of Taylor Jenkins Reid previous characters, I’m thinking perhaps of Daisy Jones and the Six and The Seven Husbands of Eveyln Hugo, because they seem less flawed in a sense. Joan is almost perfect!!

 

I think this story really cemented in my mind the importance of structure in a novel. Not that I wasn’t aware of it before, but the arrangement of the timelines impacted greatly on my emotional response to the characters and the action. The story begins in 1984 during a crisis, but Reid takes us back several years to gives us the perspectives and backstories before returning, strategically, to the space drama. Each time we return there we know a little more about the characters which affords the reader a much more intense response to the event that is unfolding. It’s very powerful

 

I found it to be a compelling and absorbing story, and I defy anyone not to go looking at the night sky after they’ve read it. That is, if you didn’t already look at the night sky. 

Madame Matisse – Sophie Haydock

 

It seems that Sophie Haydock may be carving a little niche for herself as a champion of women in art. Specifically women as muses and soul mates to and of artists. Egon Schiele’s muses were the focus for The Flames and here, I think the title gives it away, the wife of Henri Matisse dominates much of the narrative, along with Lydia Delectorskaya and Marguerite, Matisse’s daughter from his first marriage. 

 

Each woman is given a voice in this latest imagining and Haydock skilfully guides us through the tangle of these women’s lives and their relationships to and with Matisse. 

And whilst Amelie and Henri are not quite Sharon and Ozzy it is apparent how large a part she played in his career. All the women have their own kind of strength palpably depicted by Sophie Haydock. I always think the mark of good historical fiction is where the reader goes scuttling off to research further because the story has piqued their interest. I became fascinated by these women, particularly Amelie and Lydia and was keen to read more about them, and after some googling to see photos too, which gave me another dimension.

 

But I would not have done that if Sophie Haydock’s story was not so beautifully written and so thoroughly researched. That period in art comes alive with all the vibrancy of Matisse’s palette and the reader is transported into the very fabric of their lives and becomes invested in all of them. She highlights their rivalries objectively and accurately one feels, the fusing of fact and fiction is seamless, immersive and completely believable. And the writing is as colourful as the paintings being described. 

One also gets a flavour of the life of an artist in 1930’s France and the context within which Matisse lived and worked. A most enjoyable read.