Two Women in Rome - Elizabeth Buchan

 An intelligent novel that fuses the dual narrative of two seemingly disparate women within a patchwork of history, religion, politics, espionage and love. Not necessarily in that order! A highly emotive novel, as we explore alongside our two protagonists, the complexities of their existences. And in our beleaguered times  - an opportunity to vicariously enjoy Rome from different decades.

Lottie and Nina, neither of them native Italians, separated by time in the Eternal City. Secrets and questions decorate the timelines of both women. Buchan’s writing is considered and substantial. It’s a deceptive piece of work, for the reader can be carried along by merely the story itself yet there are numerous ideas and concepts of depth and intensity lurking with its chapters. The style is fluent with a well constructed plot that allows you to figure out some aspects, but not all.

The atmosphere of a 1970’s Rome is palpably created alongside a more contemporary Rome although there is almost a timelessness about these sections. And the unravelling of both womens’ lives is a measured and controlled affair. It’s not a a pacy book, rather it echoes the patience and attention to detail that is the meat of the archivist’s role, (Lottie is an archivist), and that of a landscape gardener, (Nina is a gardener - amongst other things - no spoilers here). The relationships of both women are dissected cerebrally by themselves and the author.

Italian art, too, comes under the microscope with an attention to detail that allows the reader to almost see the brushstrokes. And a function of art to tell a story is well explored in the novel.

It is not a book that tries to answer all the questions, it acknowledges  the integrity of its readers to ponder some of the whys and wherefores, for example why does Lottie become so involved, so determined to explore every last detail of Nina’s life? And I think that once you ‘have’ the story there is much to revisit and consider.



        

The Pull of the Stars - Emma Donoghue

                 

     

 ‘Influenza delle stelle - the influence of the stars’ 

Sounds almost romantic doesn’t it, the derivation of the word influenza? But nothing could be less romantic than this gruelling account of a maternity ward in the midst of the Spanish flu pandemic of 1918. It’s a kind of retro Call the Midwife meets Contagion, some palpable and visceral descriptions of the birthing process in a 1918 Dublin hospital consumed by the Spanish flu. Historically fascinating to read of a previous pandemic and consider the parallels with the situation we’re facing.

There’s something almost spooky about Donoghue’s prescience for a novel started in 2018 before anyone had heard of Covid-19. The book is divided into sections titled red, brown, blue, black which is apparently the colour a patient’s skin turns as their flu progresses. A hint too that the outcome of the book may not be the happiest.

For all that the subject matter is largely bleak the author’s knack for narrative draws us into the life of Nurse Julia Power and encourages us to view this situation from her perspective. Obviously WW1 imposes its presence on the book too opening up considerations of PTSD and its management. Julia lives with her brother, Tim, damaged by the war.

There’s an almost claustraphobic feel as the ‘action’ takes place mostly in a small ward over three days but that seems crucial to understand the constraints of working in the situation. The trinity of key characters, Julia, Bridie and Dr. Lynn are all drawn with the hallmarks of Emma Donoghue’s skill in characterisation. With deft descriptions and pertinent dialogue she creates the very essence of these people and what makes them tick. Power’s compassion dominates her actions yet leads her to a poignant introspection as to her future and maybe the future of her country. ‘How would we ever get back to normal after the pandemic?’

I suppose we can look at that with some kind of reverse prophecy because the country did get back to a normal, maybe a new normal so there’s a hint of optimism. But the conclusion of the book was unexpected and open ended. And indeed I think the book as a whole is asking its reader to think about  broader  implications that go beyond a pandemic; poverty and religion, social class and political affiliations.

It’s a substantial work. Not an uplifting story. If you’re looking for something light and fluffy you won’t get it. You will get a depth of emotion, plenty of heartbreak but all dealt with so competently from the pen of one of Ireland’s finest contemporary authors.

My thanks to NB magazine for a gifted copy.

The Readers’ Room - Antoine Laurain translated by Jane Aitken, Emily Boyce and Polly Mackintosh

 This is an exquisitely crafted book with a subtle balance of black comedy and intriguing mystery which was difficult to second guess. Suffused with an indefinable sense of quirkiness Laurain entertains with his masterful story telling.

A mystery identity threatens to put the ‘who’ into ‘dunnit’ and the world of publishing and book awards is slightly mocked, although in a very loving way.  

‘When the manuscript of a debut crime novel arrives at a Parisian publishing house, everyone in the readers’ room is convinced it’s something special - and the committee for France’s highest literary honour, The Prix Goncourt, agrees.

But when the prize shortlist is announced, there’s a problem for editor Violiane Lepage: she has no idea of the author’s identity. As the police begin to investigate a series of murders strangely reminiscent of those in the book, Violiane is not the only one looking for answers. And she’s beginning to wonder what role she might play in the story …’

Having read that blurb and believing yourself prepared for what follows it was riveting to begin a book that opens with the protagonist in the company of Marcel Proust and Virginia Woolf! Sure to capture the attention and imagination of literary folk right away!  That opening delighted me and the delight didn’t cease throughout the book.

A crisp narrative that never falters along with the intrigue of the premise particularly when the police come a-looking for Violaine. Little incidents and events of eccentricity are intertwined amidst the main thrust of the potential crime suffused with a smattering of romance balanced by a need for retribution.

One has to admire Laurain’s ability to come up with a fairly convoluted plot that he deals with  so concisely in a book that is possibly half the length of some similar plots of complexity. And there’s no sense of being short changed.

His characterisations enjoy the same skill as his plot and narrative, there’s a sense of completeness about the characters he depicts especially Violaine.

I suppose I found the ending slightly anti climactic but I suspect I was enjoying the book so much I wanted it to go on for longer! And I’m not sure there was anywhere else for the story to go without comprising its integrity.  All was explained.  

Let us not forget the work of the translators here - Jane Aitken, Emily Boyce and Polly Mackintosh - who have sustained, throughout, the essence of Antoine Laurain.

My thanks to Isabelle at Gallic Books for a gifted copy.

The Trawlerman - William Shaw

 

I will admit to being a recent convert to William Shaw’s books. My first was a Breen and Tozer story and on the strength of that the lovely Ana McLaughlin at riverrun books gifted me a copy of not just The TrawlerMan but Grave’s End too! I’ve just finished the former and subsequently ordered the rest of the Alexandra Cupidi series.

So, when there are so many good crime writers out there what is it about this author that has had me impatiently adding to my overloaded TBR shelves? Sit back, settle down and I’ll tell you.

A sense of place for one. The depiction of London in the sixties in A Song From Dead Lips was palpable and I’m old enough to remember it! The bleak, the unique properties of Dungeness sent me hurtling back to my childhood for I will never forget driving across the shingle, seeing those incredible huts and houses and the feeling that I’d entered another civilisation and wishing I could live there. I remain fascinated by the place so to see it as a location for The Trawlerman was exciting and urged me to read on from the opening pages. Mentions of Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch, all places from childhood, simply evoked, not just a flood of memories but emotion too.

Complex, yet plausible plotting with a satisfying attention to detail. Pieces of a jigsaw; where you manage to get all the edge bits first and then start working on the inner part of the puzzle searching for those elusive pieces so it all makes sense. Clever, precise. As a reader you admire the connections. It isn’t necessarily a book of twists and turns, it’s far more a cerebral, rational and logical dissection of a chain of interlinked events.

Character driven; the heart of this book is Alex. One of the reasons I’m so anxious to read the previous books is to find out what exactly she’s been through to render her in the extreme state of stress she suffers in The Trawlerman. Flawed yet human. But she’s so bright and perceptive, an intuitive police officer, vocational, weighing up the right and wrongs. Using that sixth sense to try and put her finger on what isn’t quite right about a person or a situation. As a reader you start to trust her instincts rather than trust your own.

An easy to read narrative. That always seems like a paradox to me when you’re grappling with a complex plot. But I read this book in one day. That’s partly because it belongs to that exciting genre of fiction that I call ‘The UnPutDownAbles’ and also because the writing is so crisp and assured. It flows along like a fast flowing river carrying the reader with it.

Now if you’ll excuse me I have another William Shaw book I want to read before the others arrive through my letterbox.

The Perfect Lie - Jo Spain

 

A new Jo Spain book is always a treat. She is sublime mistress of the plot twist so the anticipation is high and that can be a dangerous thing if there is a failure to deliver. Fortunately Ms. Spain DOES deliver. And how.

‘Five years ago, Erin Kennedy moved to New York following a family tragedy. She now lives happily with her detective husband in the scenic seaside town of Newport, Long Island. When Erin answers the door to Danny's police colleagues one morning, it's the start of an ordinary day. But behind her, Danny walks to the window of their fourth-floor apartment and jumps to his death.

Eighteen months later, Erin is in court, charged with her husband's murder. Over that year and a half, Erin has learned things about Danny she could never have imagined. She thought he was perfect. She thought their life was perfect. ‘

Geographically a departure from her previous books there is also a sense of departure from the tried and tested crime/thriller formula of offering a tantalising prologue that may or may not be littered with dead bodies or the confessions of flawed psychopaths. Here we begin with a happy, loving couple but before you’re barely ten pages in one of them is no more. And the other is in prison charged with murder! No mucking about then?!

I always like to call Jo’s books ‘onion’ books. Layer after layer is peeled off as the truths emerge. It’s almost a ménage à trois between reader, writer and plot! I often have the sense, as a reader, of being skilfully manipulated to arrive at certain conclusions only to be thwarted by a plot twist that can have you chuckling at the audacity and berating yourself for not seeing it. It was happening here a lot. Now there were things that I successfully figured out. Is that because I have developed an affinity with Jo Spain’s style and plotting? Or was it simply because I was allowed to by the writer?!

After the first two ‘bombshells’  the book then concentrates on unpeeling the layers of the past and allowing us to piece the jigsaw together. At times it was like a drip feed, slow and steady, yet the reader frenziedly turns the pages in a desperate sprint to find exactly what has happened. The title gives you a clue. A lie? One lie? Only one? Or is it to be - which one?

Considering their complex plots Jo’s books are easy to read. I think. I’m never quite sure!  Is it because I am just racing through to find the answers?
Her characters are often difficult to fully warm to but I think a reader needs to stay objective. We learn that Erin is flawed by events of the past and I found myself feeling so sorry that she was so far away from home when tragedy strikes. And as we get to know Danny posthumously we realise he has his demons. So although on the surface this is ‘just’ a crime novel there were some deeper considerations of family and distance, truth, friendship, inherited wealth, the perception of women in certain situations, (I’m trying to hard not to give too much away here!) and even the political situation in the USA.

I’ve enjoyed all the Jo Spain books I’ve read so far. This is the fourth. And I’ll  await the next eagerly.

My thanks to New Books Magazine for a gifted proof.

White Eye of the Needle - Chris Campbell Illustrated by Sandra Evans - Blog Tour

 This is an engaging collection of poems that includes lockdown thoughts in amongst  - non-lockdown thoughts! I found it interesting because it serves to place the events of this last year into one’s life space as if it were something expected, almost, not some unique and unprecedented event that threw us all off balance! Somehow putting it into words achieves a precarious balance, cerebrally,  and so you read of holidays in Italy, city farms, skiing and honeymoons alongside poems that speak of self isolation, social distancing and digital connections. 

There’s some insightful observations. I particularly liked;

‘Middle aged partners, singletons, drink
In one hand, experience in the other-‘

’Time doesn’t slow down to save me,
So why should I speed up to save time?’


I found the style and structure quite refreshing in these days of convention defiance and obsession with being different and experimental (not that those are necessarily bad things) to see rhyme used almost effortlessly, although I’m sure it was not effortless! I especially enjoyed Synchronised Buskers where the end of one rhyming couplet led thematically into the next. Hit the Slopes is a great example of concrete poetry which I can remember from the olden days, when I was a student, being hailed as innovative and almost risqué in terms of defying poetry convention!

I liked Mr Cat for it mirrored my own observation of flora and fauna evading the impositions of lockdown with an almost blissful unawareness.

’No one will disrupt your kingdom, Mr. Cat…..’

I loved Illustration which compared ones hunger for books and reading to a meal of several courses.

‘The cover,
your placemat,
bookmark like cutlery,
an illustration to savour
like dessert’

Illustration? That brings me nicely to the art work in the collection. I’d like to say a word about the delightful illustrations by Sandra Evans. Sometimes it’s easy to overlook such things when you are programmed to focus on the etymology! But these drawing are a perfect complement to the poems. Understated - not attempting to dominate or drive attention away from the poetry. They reminded me a little of those adult colouring books that were all the rage a few years back. I could even picture myself at some in the future colouring in as I re read the poems!

My thanks to Isabelle Kenyon for inviting me to the blog tour and to Chris for a gifted copy of the book with a treasured personal post it note message. 

Featherweight - Mick Kitson

This was one of those delightful books where I had no preconceived notions nor expectations. The writer was unfamiliar to me but there was something about the book which appealed - what I like to call a ‘je ne sais quoi’ book.

It was an absorbing, easy to read, historical fiction tale of a female pugilist which I understand is based on real characters and events. And, anorak that I am, I did some googling and I now have an adequate knowledge of William Perry, aka Bill Perry, aka The Tipton Slasher. There is a statue of him in Tilston and The Champion of England pub was in West Bromwich, Spon Lane to be exact. But I digress. I am supposed to be writing about the book! But I do believe it is a mark of a good historical fiction that motivates the reader to find out more.

Here’s some blurb.

‘Annie Perry is born beside the coal-muddied canals of the Black Country, at the height of the industrial revolution. The youngest in a large Romani family who cannot afford to keep her, when she is eight years old Annie is sold as a servant to the famous and feared bare-knuckle boxer Bill Perry, The Tipton Slasher.

Bill is starting to lose his strength, but refuses to give up his crown. When it looks like a fight might become Bill’s last, Annie steps into the ring, fists raised in his defence. From that moment she is determined to train and follow in Bill’s footsteps, to learn to fight for herself. But Annie has been doing this all along.

A whole new world opens up for Annie, one of love, fortune, family and education, but also with danger. One wrong move, one misstep, and her life will be changed for ever.’

Featherweight offers the reader an exacting view of Victorian life in the Black Country, where the population seems accepting of their situation for the most part with occasional resistance in the form of the politically motivated Chartist movement and the financially motivated highwaymen movement!! I hope those aren’t spoilers.

You can’t help warming to Annie, her pragmatism and practical intelligence balanced with the loving side of her her nature. You admire, too, the spirit of someone  who seems to understand her situation from a young age and complies without objection. Her ability to manage Bill could be described as her ‘aBILLity’! She dominates the story and carries the reader with her all the way. Her decisions are our decisions.

Despite the harshness of the depicted life there is a warmth that runs through the book. The loyalty of the characters towards one another is somehow refreshing and the sense of community is strong.

The book opens with an enigmatic prologue which I confess I forgot all about as I became so thoroughly immersed in the story ‘proper’. When I reached the Epilogue it was a jolt that had me feverishly turning the pages back to the beginning and smiling at the symmetry of the tale. There is a dual narrative with Annie as narrator in some parts and a straightforward third person story telling in the rest. It works quite well. The historical research is thorough and convincing. The class divide is clear without the need for emphasis or exaggeration. But Annie transcends it all to overcome life obstacles and pitfalls.

My thanks to Canongate Books for a gifted proof.