Lisa Jewell is one of those writers whose books I will always snap up instantly, and with Invisible Girl she’s at the top of her game. It’s a hugely engaging and satisfying read.
The invisible girl of the title is seventeen-year-old Saffyre - a name which should have seemed awful, with its “creative” spelling, but I actually kind of liked it, maybe because I liked the character so much. She was magnificent.
Part of the story is told from Saffyre’s perspective. Then there’s Cate, who’s married to child psychologist Roan and mother of two teenagers, Georgia and Josh.
Thirty-three year old Owen lives with his aunt across the road from Cate and Roan, and has never had a sexual relationship. He’s seen as a bit of a weirdo and a loner. When complaints are made about him at work, Owen’s sense of anger and injustice begins to lead him down a dangerous path. When Saffyre disappears, he’s an obvious suspect.
Meanwhile, a string of sex attacks in the area strike fear into Cate’s heart in more ways than one.
I absolutely loved this book - largely, I think, because of Saffyre herself. All the characterisation is brilliant, though. It’s possible to like and sympathise with Owen even though some of his behaviour is, at best, deeply misguided - Lisa Jewell does an excellent job of sensitively depicting how he’s reached that place.
The toxic masculinity of certain characters is balanced by characters like Saffyre’s uncle, who show a very different image of what it means to be a man.
As I said at the top of the review, I found this a very enjoyable and satisfying read - highly recommended.
Tuesday, 21 April 2020
Wednesday, 4 March 2020
Book review: One Moment by Linda Green
Finishing One Moment, I really felt like I'd experienced something very special. Linda Green has woven an incredibly compelling and timely story which made me laugh, cry, fume with anger and nod in agreement so many times. By the end, I was in pieces.
The story is narrated alternately by ten-year-old Finn and fifty-nine-year old Kaz, and they are both incredibly endearing characters. Finn is different from most other boys (for one thing, he has a passion for gardening rather than football, and his hero is Alan Titchmarsh) and suffers at school accordingly - his mum, Hannah, is his most steadfast supporter and source of comfort. Kaz works in a café and cares for her brother Terry, who has schizophrenia (and an obsession with Matthew Kelly). Kaz's voice in particular, as an older working-class woman and informal carer, felt like one which is rarely heard in fiction (or elsewhere for that matter) and she was a brilliantly realised and entirely admirable character who shows great bravery and resilience.
My heart broke for both of them at times, but particularly for Finn, because how could it not? Kaz and Terry's situation too was incredibly well described and entirely believable. I very much appreciated the sympathetic and sensitive treatment of Terry's mental disorder, but the story also serves as a scathing indictment of an uncaring benefits system and the impacts of austerity.
Issues of bullying, poverty, marital breakdown, a mental health crisis and more are dealt with realistically and unflinchingly, but there is more than enough humour and humanity to ensure the tone is never too dark.
The story alternates between "before" and "after" segments (the turning point being an unspecified horrific event, the general nature though not the details of which is quickly apparent) and the structure did confuse me a little at times, particularly as "before" got closer to "after", but only a little. I suppose the suspense of Kaz and Terry's situation "before" was lessened slightly as we already know more or less what happens to them "after". But honestly, there was quite enough suspense elsewhere for this really not to matter.
Wonderful in so many ways, but most especially in the relationship between Finn and Kaz. An interesting end note from Linda Green remarks that "Finn needed a friend, and in Kaz, I like to think he found one of the best". Oh, he did.
The story is narrated alternately by ten-year-old Finn and fifty-nine-year old Kaz, and they are both incredibly endearing characters. Finn is different from most other boys (for one thing, he has a passion for gardening rather than football, and his hero is Alan Titchmarsh) and suffers at school accordingly - his mum, Hannah, is his most steadfast supporter and source of comfort. Kaz works in a café and cares for her brother Terry, who has schizophrenia (and an obsession with Matthew Kelly). Kaz's voice in particular, as an older working-class woman and informal carer, felt like one which is rarely heard in fiction (or elsewhere for that matter) and she was a brilliantly realised and entirely admirable character who shows great bravery and resilience.
My heart broke for both of them at times, but particularly for Finn, because how could it not? Kaz and Terry's situation too was incredibly well described and entirely believable. I very much appreciated the sympathetic and sensitive treatment of Terry's mental disorder, but the story also serves as a scathing indictment of an uncaring benefits system and the impacts of austerity.
Issues of bullying, poverty, marital breakdown, a mental health crisis and more are dealt with realistically and unflinchingly, but there is more than enough humour and humanity to ensure the tone is never too dark.
The story alternates between "before" and "after" segments (the turning point being an unspecified horrific event, the general nature though not the details of which is quickly apparent) and the structure did confuse me a little at times, particularly as "before" got closer to "after", but only a little. I suppose the suspense of Kaz and Terry's situation "before" was lessened slightly as we already know more or less what happens to them "after". But honestly, there was quite enough suspense elsewhere for this really not to matter.
Wonderful in so many ways, but most especially in the relationship between Finn and Kaz. An interesting end note from Linda Green remarks that "Finn needed a friend, and in Kaz, I like to think he found one of the best". Oh, he did.

Thursday, 13 February 2020
Book Review: The Magnificent Sons by Justin Myers
The Magnificent Sons is a coming out story, but with added layers and twists. Jake D’Arcy, regarded as the boring one by his boisterous family, has never really fitted in. Despite a lifelong lurking suspicion that he might not be entirely heterosexual, Jake has firmly repressed it, acquiring a long term girlfriend and a group of straight mates. His flamboyant young brother Trick (Patrick) is the gay one in the family, coming out on his seventeenth birthday to the surprise of literally nobody.
While everybody’s cool with Trick’s sexuality, nobody has ever considered that Jake might not be 100% straight, and his dawning acceptance - and announcement - of his bisexuality is a shock to those around him.
Jake’s parents’ struggles with him being bisexual feel real, though Amelia’s asking him if that meant he fancied everybody didn’t necessarily seem like something she would say. Though maybe it’s forgivable in the circumstances. Justin Myers does a really good job of rendering Jake’s feelings of slight disconnection from both the straight and gay worlds, and other people’s discriminatory or simply uncomprehending attitudes - still a thing, even in these days of pansexuality and sexual fluidity. Likewise, the effects on other people - notably Jake’s girlfriend and brother- are not minimised. The tense relationship between the two brothers is a key element of the plot.
It’s often hilariously well-observed (colleague Harry’s predilection for compound-noun insults was spot on) and the characters are really believable, I found I could visualise them all so clearly - Jake’s family, friends, and the people he meets on his journey of self discovery... (which sounds far more dull and worthy than it actually is). Trick and his pals Kia and Hot Will are particularly memorable.
A really enjoyable read - thanks!
While everybody’s cool with Trick’s sexuality, nobody has ever considered that Jake might not be 100% straight, and his dawning acceptance - and announcement - of his bisexuality is a shock to those around him.
Jake’s parents’ struggles with him being bisexual feel real, though Amelia’s asking him if that meant he fancied everybody didn’t necessarily seem like something she would say. Though maybe it’s forgivable in the circumstances. Justin Myers does a really good job of rendering Jake’s feelings of slight disconnection from both the straight and gay worlds, and other people’s discriminatory or simply uncomprehending attitudes - still a thing, even in these days of pansexuality and sexual fluidity. Likewise, the effects on other people - notably Jake’s girlfriend and brother- are not minimised. The tense relationship between the two brothers is a key element of the plot.
It’s often hilariously well-observed (colleague Harry’s predilection for compound-noun insults was spot on) and the characters are really believable, I found I could visualise them all so clearly - Jake’s family, friends, and the people he meets on his journey of self discovery... (which sounds far more dull and worthy than it actually is). Trick and his pals Kia and Hot Will are particularly memorable.
A really enjoyable read - thanks!
Friday, 10 January 2020
Book review: My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell
"If it isn’t a love story, then what is it?”
At fifteen, Vanessa Wye had a sexual relationship with her forty-five year old teacher, Jacob Strane - a relationship that has been the defining element of her life. Now, years later, other girls have come forward to say they were abused by Strane and to urge Vanessa, too, to speak out. But Vanessa can’t relate at all to those other girls. She was different; she was special. She was the one he truly loved.
She never identifies herself as a victim, reframing the experience as a great love affair. Nevertheless, it’s clear to the reader from early on that Strane is a textbook abuser, preying on Vanessa’s vulnerability and naïveté and constantly testing how far he can safely go, skilfully grooming and manipulating her to ensure her compliance and her silence.
In one of their earliest interactions, he says “I will ruin you” - it’s one of the only true things he ever says to her.
Vanessa as an adult of thirty-two is clearly deeply damaged, her potential unrealised, numbing her feelings with drugs, alcohol and sex with men she despises yet in some twisted way needs for validation.
We follow both Vanessa’s life in the present day - as further allegations about Strane come to light - and her memories of the past. As we follow the development of her “relationship” with him, it becomes very hard to read at times, as Vanessa narrates her story with unflinching and at times brutal honesty. And when rumours inevitably begin to fly around the school, the response of the authorities is appalling, compounding the harm.
Throughout, the reader can see what Vanessa, unable to face the reality of what Strane did to her, cannot. Instead she insists unconvincingly on her own power, her instigation, her willing participation... though on some level she knows full well how wrong it is, how wrong it has always been, and how badly it has damaged her. Even then she cannot attach the blame where it truly belongs, blaming her own darkness, her eagerness to “hurl herself into a swamp”, to become Lolita to Strane’s Humbert Humbert. (Nabokov’s work is a theme throughout.)
My Dark Vanessa is a dazzling, devastating exploration of the damage caused by abuse. The subject matter makes it a hard read at times, but it’s an important and powerful one.
At fifteen, Vanessa Wye had a sexual relationship with her forty-five year old teacher, Jacob Strane - a relationship that has been the defining element of her life. Now, years later, other girls have come forward to say they were abused by Strane and to urge Vanessa, too, to speak out. But Vanessa can’t relate at all to those other girls. She was different; she was special. She was the one he truly loved.
She never identifies herself as a victim, reframing the experience as a great love affair. Nevertheless, it’s clear to the reader from early on that Strane is a textbook abuser, preying on Vanessa’s vulnerability and naïveté and constantly testing how far he can safely go, skilfully grooming and manipulating her to ensure her compliance and her silence.
In one of their earliest interactions, he says “I will ruin you” - it’s one of the only true things he ever says to her.
Vanessa as an adult of thirty-two is clearly deeply damaged, her potential unrealised, numbing her feelings with drugs, alcohol and sex with men she despises yet in some twisted way needs for validation.
We follow both Vanessa’s life in the present day - as further allegations about Strane come to light - and her memories of the past. As we follow the development of her “relationship” with him, it becomes very hard to read at times, as Vanessa narrates her story with unflinching and at times brutal honesty. And when rumours inevitably begin to fly around the school, the response of the authorities is appalling, compounding the harm.
Throughout, the reader can see what Vanessa, unable to face the reality of what Strane did to her, cannot. Instead she insists unconvincingly on her own power, her instigation, her willing participation... though on some level she knows full well how wrong it is, how wrong it has always been, and how badly it has damaged her. Even then she cannot attach the blame where it truly belongs, blaming her own darkness, her eagerness to “hurl herself into a swamp”, to become Lolita to Strane’s Humbert Humbert. (Nabokov’s work is a theme throughout.)
My Dark Vanessa is a dazzling, devastating exploration of the damage caused by abuse. The subject matter makes it a hard read at times, but it’s an important and powerful one.
Friday, 22 November 2019
Blog tour review: The Mother I Could Have Been by Kerry Fisher
The book....
Why would you walk away from the one person you can’t live without?
As a child, Vicky Hall never had the sort of family she wanted. The least important person in her new step-family, ignored by her mother in favour of her two younger half-siblings, Vicky was always an afterthought. Sitting alone at her graduation ceremony at the age of twenty-one, she vows to create her own family and her own life, one which is full of the love and attention she has always craved.
When Vicky meets William and falls pregnant in Greece that summer, it isn’t planned. But the two of them believe they can make it work, showering their child with the love which they believe should be enough.
But when her son Theo is two, Vicky leaves him in the care of her mother-in-law, walks out of her front door and drives to a hotel where she takes a room for the night. She doesn’t return.
It’s unthinkable.
What kind of mother does that?
The kind who is hiding a story you can never imagine.
The Mother I Could Have Been is a heartbreaking story of impossible decisions and second chances, from the bestselling author of The Silent Wife and The Woman I Was Before. Perfect for fans of Jodi Picoult, Liane Moriarty and Diane Chamberlain. The review... I've loved all the Kerry Fisher books I've read - she's really good at shining a light on family relationships - and in The Mother I Could Have Been, she seems to be going from strength to strength. It's a story which takes a piercing look at the mother/child relationship - from various angles - and the all too easy ways in which apparently unbridgeable rifts can develop. The reality of how the same events within a family can perceived in devastatingly different ways, unintended hurts festering for years, is portrayed to great effect.
The story focuses on two characters - Vicky and Caro, and I loved both of them - at least, once Vicky had grown into herself a bit. Some of her earlier decisions were hard to stomach, yet it was possible to understand how as a young person she'd taken actions which she would later come to profoundly regret. I was rooting for both of them - and for young Theo perhaps most of all - in their fractured family situations, although it was clear there could be no easy answers. And there aren't, but nevertheless the story is satisfying and ultimately hopeful. And just a cracking good read too. Loved it. The author...
As a child, Vicky Hall never had the sort of family she wanted. The least important person in her new step-family, ignored by her mother in favour of her two younger half-siblings, Vicky was always an afterthought. Sitting alone at her graduation ceremony at the age of twenty-one, she vows to create her own family and her own life, one which is full of the love and attention she has always craved.
When Vicky meets William and falls pregnant in Greece that summer, it isn’t planned. But the two of them believe they can make it work, showering their child with the love which they believe should be enough.
But when her son Theo is two, Vicky leaves him in the care of her mother-in-law, walks out of her front door and drives to a hotel where she takes a room for the night. She doesn’t return.
It’s unthinkable.
What kind of mother does that?
The kind who is hiding a story you can never imagine.
The Mother I Could Have Been is a heartbreaking story of impossible decisions and second chances, from the bestselling author of The Silent Wife and The Woman I Was Before. Perfect for fans of Jodi Picoult, Liane Moriarty and Diane Chamberlain. The review... I've loved all the Kerry Fisher books I've read - she's really good at shining a light on family relationships - and in The Mother I Could Have Been, she seems to be going from strength to strength. It's a story which takes a piercing look at the mother/child relationship - from various angles - and the all too easy ways in which apparently unbridgeable rifts can develop. The reality of how the same events within a family can perceived in devastatingly different ways, unintended hurts festering for years, is portrayed to great effect.
The story focuses on two characters - Vicky and Caro, and I loved both of them - at least, once Vicky had grown into herself a bit. Some of her earlier decisions were hard to stomach, yet it was possible to understand how as a young person she'd taken actions which she would later come to profoundly regret. I was rooting for both of them - and for young Theo perhaps most of all - in their fractured family situations, although it was clear there could be no easy answers. And there aren't, but nevertheless the story is satisfying and ultimately hopeful. And just a cracking good read too. Loved it. The author...
Kerry Fisher is the bestselling author of five novels, including The Silent Wife and The Secret Child. She was born in Peterborough, studied French and Italian at the University of Bath and spent several years living in Spain, Italy and Corsica. After returning to England to work as a journalist, she eventually abandoned real life stories for the secrets of fictional families. She now lives in Surrey with her husband, two teenage children and a naughty Lab/Schnauzer called Poppy.
Friday, 20 September 2019
The Dark and Cloudy Skies by Jenny Maxwell: Review
I first read this a number of years ago, and it made quite an impression on me, to the point where I spent some years trying unsuccessfully to remember the title and author. (The closest I got for a while was "It was a dark and stormy night", which was obviously incorrect.) Anyway I finally figured it out, found it was on Kindle (hurrah!) and settled down for a re-read. Turned out I didn't remember much about it at all, but I enjoyed it just as much second time round.
It was published in 2001, apparently, but feels a bit earlier, perhaps only because the main character and her sister are called Joan and Sheila - not names I would usually associate with young women in 2001. Even in the 80s and 90s when I grew up, I didn't know anyone of my own age called Joan and Sheila, although no doubt some existed.
Joan Ferguson, known to her supermarket workmates as “Dozey Joan”, isn’t too good at reading and writing, or at standing up for herself. She’s good at thinking, though, and trying to make sense of the often confusing world around her.
When Joan is kidnapped at knifepoint by a mentally ill young man, who has incorporated her into his delusion of the “Dark Universe”, the experience is hugely and lastingly traumatic, but the world created by Nicholas Parry is also strangely compelling. In his disordered mind, Joan is not Dozey Joan, but the Empress of the Dark Universe, a figure to be worshipped. (Unfortunately, he wanted to kill her to get her back there.)
Joan’s ordeal is awful, but it’s a small part of the book. The really important part is what happens in her life afterwards.
We see everything through Joan’s eyes and it’s enthralling. Her voice is distinctive, engaging and believable. Joan doesn’t understand some things - sometimes that makes her angry - but other things she understands very well indeed. Joan’s always been told, and believed, that she’s stupid. As a result, people have written her off. But it becomes apparent that there’s much more to Joan than meets the eye.
An excellent read with an unusual and likeable protagonist. A book which deserves a wider readership than it has probably had.
It was published in 2001, apparently, but feels a bit earlier, perhaps only because the main character and her sister are called Joan and Sheila - not names I would usually associate with young women in 2001. Even in the 80s and 90s when I grew up, I didn't know anyone of my own age called Joan and Sheila, although no doubt some existed.
Joan Ferguson, known to her supermarket workmates as “Dozey Joan”, isn’t too good at reading and writing, or at standing up for herself. She’s good at thinking, though, and trying to make sense of the often confusing world around her.
When Joan is kidnapped at knifepoint by a mentally ill young man, who has incorporated her into his delusion of the “Dark Universe”, the experience is hugely and lastingly traumatic, but the world created by Nicholas Parry is also strangely compelling. In his disordered mind, Joan is not Dozey Joan, but the Empress of the Dark Universe, a figure to be worshipped. (Unfortunately, he wanted to kill her to get her back there.)
Joan’s ordeal is awful, but it’s a small part of the book. The really important part is what happens in her life afterwards.
We see everything through Joan’s eyes and it’s enthralling. Her voice is distinctive, engaging and believable. Joan doesn’t understand some things - sometimes that makes her angry - but other things she understands very well indeed. Joan’s always been told, and believed, that she’s stupid. As a result, people have written her off. But it becomes apparent that there’s much more to Joan than meets the eye.
An excellent read with an unusual and likeable protagonist. A book which deserves a wider readership than it has probably had.
Friday, 12 July 2019
Blog tour review! The Dead Wife by Sue Fortin
The book....
SINCLAIR WIFE DEAD! HUSBAND CLEARED!
Police have ruled out suspicious circumstances in the
investigation into the death of Elizabeth Sinclair, wife of charismatic
entrepreneur Harry Sinclair, found drowned in the lake of the family’s holiday
park.
It’s been two years since the Sinclair case closed but when
reporter Steph Durham receives a tipoff that could give her the scoop of the
year, she’s drawn deeper and deeper into the secretive Sinclair family.
Elizabeth’s death
wasn’t a tragic accident. And the truth will come at a deadly price…
The review...
I've read and enjoyed previous books by Sue Fortin (The Birthday Girl stands out as one I particularly relished), so I jumped at the chance to read and review her latest.
In The Dead Wife (the title does feel a bit blunt), main protagonist Steph writes for a travel company but hankers after a more exciting and challenging kind of journalism. Sent by her employer to cover the reopening of a Lake District resort, she certainly doesn't expect to be approached beforehand by the mother of a woman who tragically drowned there two years earlier. Sonia Lomas is convinced her daughter Elizabeth, the wife of one of the brothers who run the resort, was murdered..... but nobody believes her, the police included. And she wants Steph to investigate.
At the resort we're swiftly introduced to Harry, Elizabeth's grieving widower; eldest brother Dominic, quickly established as the sort of person who kicks dogs; and Owen, the alcoholic youngest brother. Then there's Pru, the matriarch.
The story is told largely from Steph's perspective, but also follows the brothers and incorporates flashbacks to events leading up to Elizabeth's death two years earlier. Elizabeth, it seems, had something of a talent for trouble...
Although I did have a good idea who the "baddie" was prior to the reveal, it was a very enjoyable read, with a likeable heroine in Steph and an evocative setting in the Lakes... and a sense of genuine jeopardy at times.
Many thanks to the author and Rachel's Random Resources for the opportunity to participate in the blog tour!
The author...
Sue
Fortin is an award-winning USA Today and an Amazon best-selling author, an
international bestseller and has reached #1 in the Amazon UK Kindle chart. Sue
writes mystery, suspense and romance, sometimes combining all three.
Sue was born in Hertfordshire but had a nomadic childhood, moving often with her family, before eventually settling in West Sussex where she now lives with her husband, children and grandchildren.
Sue was born in Hertfordshire but had a nomadic childhood, moving often with her family, before eventually settling in West Sussex where she now lives with her husband, children and grandchildren.
Social
Media Links...
Tuesday, 18 June 2019
Blog tour! Book review: Birdie and Jude by Phyllis H. Moore

The book...
A moving novel of loss, regret, denial, and
discovery on Galveston Island, from the author of Opal’s Story and The
Ember Months.
Birdie has lived to regret many of her decisions, but she doesn’t regret
offering a stranger, Jude, shelter from an approaching hurricane. Their
serendipitous meeting will form a bond that will change their lives forever.
In a character driven story with memories of the protests and inequality
plaguing the 1960's, Birdie’s reached middle age and questions her life. Jude
is striking out on her own, but has been derailed by a fatal accident claiming
her only friend. Although their backgrounds and lives are vastly different,
they recognize something in the other that forges a friendship.
As their relationship solidifies, they share glimpses of their pasts.
Birdie is a product of the '60's, an aging hippie, with a series of
resentments. She had a sheltered childhood in an upper class family. Her
parents longed to see her make the Texas Dip at the Mardi Gras ball. Jude, however,
entered foster care as an infant. Her parents, victims of a murder/suicide,
left her and her siblings orphaned and separated.
There is something about their connection that strikes Birdie as
familiar. Can souls know each other in different lives? Birdie struggles with
the awareness that she has had regrets and hasn't lived an authentic life,
while Jude faces an uncomfortable truth about her own. It has all the feels.
The review...
The unusual dedication at the beginning immediately both intrigued and stirred the emotions, and I wanted to know its connection to the story - which was not immediately apparent.
When Birdie Barnes finds Jude - a young woman in crisis - on the beach while walking her dog, it's the beginning of an unusual cross-generational friendship, one which will have profound effects for both women. Birdie has always rebelled against the expectations placed on her by her parents and society; Jude's life has been hard from the start and it's safe to say, hasn't got easier. Both women have secrets they're not telling. But why, when they clearly haven't met before, does Jude seem so strangely familiar?
While I enjoyed the beginning of the book, it took a bit longer for the story to really grab me. By the second half, though, I was totally engaged, by Birdie's story in particular, aspects of which I could definitely relate to.
The story is set in a place I knew nothing of: Galveston Island off the coast of Texas. (Well, only the Glen Campbell song...) I felt I knew it a bit better by the end, though, and definitely got a strong sense of place arising from the narrative.
I did feel the story took time to get going, but the strength of the book lies in the complex and subtle characterisation of the main characters, especially Birdie.... not always likeable, but never less than interesting.
Thanks to the author and Rachel's Random Resources for the opportunity to read and review!
Purchase Links...
Author Bio…
Phyllis H. Moore wants to live life experiences more than once: doing it, writing about it, and reading about it. The atmosphere of the south draws her in and repels her. The characters are rich with dysfunction and redemption, real. She’s had two careers and two retirements. Both careers gave her inspiration for her novels: The Sabine Series, Sabine, Billy’s Story, Josephine’s Journals and Secrets of Dunn House, Opal’s Story, Tangled, a Southern Gothic Yarn, and The Bright Shawl, Colors of Tender Whispers, The Ember Months, Birdie & Jude, and an anthology of spooky short stories inspired by real places and events, The Bridge on Jackson Road. In 2018 she also released a new genre for her, A Dickens of a Crime, a Meg Miller Cozy Mystery. She has authored one nonfiction book, Retirement, Now What? Phyllis has been published by Caffeinated Press in the anthology, Brewed Awakenings 2, Fifteen Tales to Jolt Your Mind Awake. She blogs on her web site http://www.phyllishmoore.com. Follow her on Pinterest and Facebook.
Phyllis is a retired social worker and former owner/operator of a small bed and breakfast. She’s lived in the rural areas and cities of south Texas. She currently lives on Galveston Island with her husband, Richard.
Social Media Links...
Friday, 31 May 2019
Book review: Stanley and Elsie by Nicola Upson
I love Nicola Upson’s “Josephine Tey” novels, in which a fictionalised version of the Golden Age crime writer investigates mysteries. Here, though, Nicola has turned her attention to other real-life people, and I suspect stuck much closer to reality than in the Josephine stories. Indeed, the extraordinary true story of the Spencers and those around them needs little embroidery, and must have proved an almost irresistible subject for a novel.
The artist Stanley Spencer, his wife Hilda Carline, also an artist, and the remarkable sagas which surrounded them, neighbour Patricia Preece, and her lover Dorothy Hepworth, are seen here largely through the eyes of their long-standing (and often long-suffering) maid - and subject of two paintings - Elsie Munday. The perceptive, vibrant and down to earth Elsie is, with the possible exception of Stanley and Hilda’s daughters Shirin and Unity, by far the most likeable character and the first half of the book is entirely from her perspective. Later, we also begin to see the viewpoints of other characters. The lifelong relationship of Preece and Hepworth would surely make a fascinating book in itself.
I loved this story, about people of whom I previously knew little, though I now feel considerably better informed. I love it when a book teaches me something, and Stanley and Elsie had me frequently looking up more information, particularly about the distinctive art of Stanley Spencer and Hilda Carline. My researches led me to clips of the recent documentary “Stanley and his Daughters” - if anyone knows where I can watch the whole thing, please tell!
Nicola Upson is a wonderful writer and has excelled here in creating the world of Stanley and Elsie, evoking a real sense of the artworks and the rural locations of Burghclere and Cookham. I now really want to visit the chapel, though unfortunately it’s a bit far away from my home in Scotland.
An excellent read.
The artist Stanley Spencer, his wife Hilda Carline, also an artist, and the remarkable sagas which surrounded them, neighbour Patricia Preece, and her lover Dorothy Hepworth, are seen here largely through the eyes of their long-standing (and often long-suffering) maid - and subject of two paintings - Elsie Munday. The perceptive, vibrant and down to earth Elsie is, with the possible exception of Stanley and Hilda’s daughters Shirin and Unity, by far the most likeable character and the first half of the book is entirely from her perspective. Later, we also begin to see the viewpoints of other characters. The lifelong relationship of Preece and Hepworth would surely make a fascinating book in itself.
I loved this story, about people of whom I previously knew little, though I now feel considerably better informed. I love it when a book teaches me something, and Stanley and Elsie had me frequently looking up more information, particularly about the distinctive art of Stanley Spencer and Hilda Carline. My researches led me to clips of the recent documentary “Stanley and his Daughters” - if anyone knows where I can watch the whole thing, please tell!
Nicola Upson is a wonderful writer and has excelled here in creating the world of Stanley and Elsie, evoking a real sense of the artworks and the rural locations of Burghclere and Cookham. I now really want to visit the chapel, though unfortunately it’s a bit far away from my home in Scotland.
An excellent read.
Sunday, 3 March 2019
Review: The First Time Lauren Pailing Died by Alyson Rudd
Since early childhood, Lauren Pailing has experienced glimpses of other lives she might have lived - homes and mothers recognisably her own, yet slightly different. When Lauren dies for the first time, in an accident aged thirteen, she is able to somehow slip sideways into one of those other lives, into a world where Lauren Pailing is still alive. But that’s not the only time Lauren Pailing dies.
This book was so far up my street it might have been written just for me. The “other worlds” concept is endlessly fascinating and while there is an element of speculative fiction here, the main focus is on the people - on Lauren herself (themselves?) and the effects of her (their) death(s) on those around her, branching off into further possible worlds. Despite the narrative slipping in and out of different worlds, it somehow manages never to be confusing.
The other worlds differ in subtle or not so subtle ways. In one, Britain has never had a woman prime minister (though the USA does have a ferocious female president). Another, intriguingly, has no cats. Other differences are less remarkable - names differ slightly, kettles take longer to boil.
Moving, thought-provoking and beautifully written. I loved it.
Friday, 15 February 2019
Book review: Slayer by Kiersten White
Being chosen is easy.
Making choices is hard...
“I hate Slayers. What they are. What they do.
And I hate none of them as much as I hate Buffy.”
I was excited to read a new novel - the first in a series! - set in the Buffyverse, and Slayer definitely didn’t disappoint.
What’s left of the Watchers’ Council - just a handful of people - occupy a castle in the Irish countryside. The remnants of old families - Zabuto, Post, Wyndam-Pryce and others - and the teenagers and children who will take up the mantle in the future - whatever future that may be.
Protagonist Athena (known as Nina) and her twin sister Artemis are the daughters of the late Merrick Jamison-Smythe (Buffy’s first watcher, before Giles) and his wife Helen, a prominent Council member. Artemis - their mother’s favourite, it seems - is training as a Watcher, but Nina, who nobody ever seems to take very seriously, is repelled by violence and more inclined towards healing than killing - she’s the castle’s medic.
The last thing Nina ever expected was to be called as a Slayer...
The stage is set for a story of danger, death, love, loyalty, a mysterious prophecy and a Coldplay-loving demon named Doug.
I’ve been rewatching Buffy with my daughter recently (we’re up to season 5) and it was hugely enjoyable to read this story in the same world, though much later. While the original characters appear only via dreams there are many references to spot (Wesley Wyndam-Pryce is, by the way, considered a disgrace to his heritage).
Excellent read and I can’t wait for the next!
Tuesday, 5 February 2019
Book review: The Twelfth Juror by B.M. Gill
I read this, along with a few other novels by the same author (now, it seems, largely forgotten) a long time ago and recently came across it while clearing out (rather unsuccessfully) boxes of books in my loft. Unsuccessfully because, rather than throwing them out as intended, I keep going “ooh, forgot all about that one” and sticking them back on my bookshelves to reread. Anyway I knew I’d read The Twelfth Juror away back in ye olden times, but although I had a feeling I’d enjoyed it at the time, I couldn’t remember anything else about it. A quick reread seemed appropriate.
Published in 1984, it won the Crime Writers’ Association Gold Dagger Award for that year (beating, incidentally, The Tree of Hands by the mighty Ruth Rendell). So, that seemed promising. And anything courtroomy appeals to me.
Former newsreader, now distinguished TV presenter, Edward Carne stands in the dock, accused of murdering his wife, Jocelyn. His fate will be decided by a jury of twelve supposedly unbiased men and women. But one of those people, at least, has a closer connection to Carne than he is willing to disclose...
The story is interesting and well written but some things made me glad the book is now out of print. The characterisation of Blossom - “the Chinese girl” as Quinn describes her - feels uncomfortable and more than a bit racist. (Apparently, she glides about in green silk exuding “oriental calm” and dispensing sexual favours.) And the references (no spoilers) to “sexual deviancy” are horribly jarring. I know it was 35 years ago but it was 1984, not 1954, for goodness sake.
I did guess - more or less - the truth, though I can’t congratulate myself too much on that as I have read it before and though I didn’t consciously remember it, it was no doubt lodged in my subconscious somewhere. That said, I suspect I may have guessed anyway.
As courtroom dramas go it isn’t the best I’ve ever read (there are few surprises in court and I would perhaps have liked more of the interplay between the jurors) but it is an enjoyable read and, as I said, well written. The ending is quite powerful. However some things really don’t sit well with me (and I’m sure didn’t in 1984, either) so on that basis I can’t necessarily recommend it - but it’s definitely an interesting curiosity.
B. M. Gill - real name Barbara Trimble - wrote over 20 crime, thriller and romance novels under the various names of B. M. Gill, Margaret Blake and Barbara Gilmour. She died in 1995.
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!
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