Sunday 20 January 2019

The Heart’s Invisible Furies by John Boyne: Review



In 1945 in the closing days of the war, a pregnant sixteen-year-old girl, Catherine Goggin, is cruelly denounced from the pulpit by her local priest and literally thrown out of her small Irish village. Fortunately Catherine is a force to be reckoned with and despite boarding the bus to Dublin with hardly any money and nowhere to go, getting the heck out of Goleen and away from its small minded inhabitants isn’t all bad. With little other choice to be had, her baby boy, Cyril, is adopted at birth by the wealthy Avery family, and it is he who tells the story.

From Dublin to Amsterdam to New York and back to Dublin, we follow Cyril Avery’s life at seven-year intervals as it unfolds, through childhood, his unrequited love for his friend Julian, adulthood and the near-impossibility of living as a gay man in Ireland, love, relationships, loss and change, all set against the sweeping social and political backdrop of postwar Ireland and the wider world.

It’s hilarious, tender, bawdy and heartbreaking, often all at the same time. Laugh out loud moments abound (the “one of them” conversation with a former colleague and then conversation with Laura’s parents in the hospital were particular highlights, but there are many more). Cyril’s childhood is handled with a light and humorous touch, which does not obscure the awfulness of being constantly reminded by his eccentric and remote adoptive parents that he’s not their real son and therefore doesn’t count; notwithstanding his own observation that his childhood was “reasonably happy”.  Tragedy is never far away though and right from the start John Boyne pulls no punches in depicting the discrimination, hatred and outright violence which Cyril and others all too often experience.

Throughout, his real mother Catherine - an amazing woman in so many ways - intersects occasionally with his life, their true relationship known to us the readers but not to them. I was hoping so hard for a moment when they would learn the truth, because Cyril needed Catherine in his life so badly (well, who wouldn’t?). 

Cyril, an everyman in some respects, does some undoubtedly awful things as he slowly flounders towards being able to live his life honestly, but retains his fundamental decency and goodness. 


I adored this epic story which had me in laughter and tears on numerous occasions. Read it! 

Thursday 17 January 2019

Proud (edited by Juno Dawson): Book Review



I was so excited to read this book (just look at that cover!) and I’m happy to report that Proud more than lived up to expectations. It is an inspiring and hugely enjoyable collection of short stories, poetry and artwork which I believe will mean a great deal to many young (and not so young) people. 

Editor Juno Dawson’s pulls-no-punches introduction recalls the dark days of Section 28, which today’s young people will thankfully know, if at all, only as a historical disgrace. We’ve come a long way since then, which is not to say we don’t still have a long way to go.

From a lottery-winning teenage couple hiding out in a Travelodge (On the Run) to a queer football team (The Other Team) to a modern high school version of Pride and Prejudice (I Hate Darcy Pemberley), there’s a huge amount packed into this book. Relationships blossom and comings-out are accomplished, sometimes with a little help from penguins or phoenixes. (Phoenices?) There’s humour, sadness, gallons of compassion and creativity. I would hesitate to pick favourites, but I did find Tanya Byrne and Moira Fowley-Doyle’s stories to be very moving; I also loved Cynthia So’s delightful The Phoenix’s Fault which has the feel of a folk tale. The artwork which accompanies every piece also adds a fabulous extra dimension (I loved those by Frank Duffy, Kate Alizadeh and Leo Greenfield especially.)

There are lots of authors here I haven’t heard of - some are appearing in print for the very first time - but the standard is uniformly high. Brief information is provided at the end on all the authors and illustrators (from which I learned that Karen Lawler has a dog named Buffy).


Although I’m not in the YA age range (not by a long chalk), I found this book to be an absolute joy to read and I’m sure I will be returning to read it again.... now, how about a follow up including some more of the brilliant writers Juno mentions in her introduction??

Friday 11 January 2019

The Department of Sensitive Crimes by Alexander McCall Smith: Book review



Scandinavian crime, à la Alexander McCall Smith, is - as you might expect - an altogether much nicer, gentler affair than the Scandi noir of recent times. 

Ulf Varg - both his names mean “wolf” - possibly the kindest man in the Swedish police force, works in the eponymous Department of Sensitive Crimes, where anything a bit odd seems to end up. Ulf loves Nordic art and his dog, Martin, who he has taught to lip read . He’s also rather too fond of his colleague Anna, though that is unfortunately fraught with complication...

There are of course no gruesome murders to be investigated; the most violent thing that happens here is a market trader being stabbed in the back of the knee. There’s also the mysterious disappearance of a young woman’s imaginary boyfriend, and some mysterious, even wolfish, goings-on at a spa. Plenty for the thoughtful, reflective Ulf and his colleagues - Anna, the conscientious Carl, fishing-obsessed clerical assistant Erik and annoyingly loquacious Blomquist - to be getting on with. As is usual for this author, none of the mysteries or solutions are especially mind-blowing, but that’s not really the point. 


Fans of Alexander McCall Smith (I would count myself as one, although I haven’t read everything he’s written... there’s a lot of it) will delight in the gently meandering style and philosophical musings. The Department of Sensitive Crimes is the first in a series featuring Ulf Varg - I look forward to future instalments.