Songbirds of Florence by Olivia Spooner
Like a very many others, Songbirds of Florence is in my Christmas shopping basket. It’s a gift for a darling Italian friend, who is far too busy this week to read my posts. I think everyone is buying this book (and it was still at number one on 14th December, so they really are) for one simple reason. Because it will make the recipient feel good. Merry Christmas!
Continue reading “Songbirds of Florence–book review”Pātea Boys, Ngāti Pātea, by Airana Ngarewa
I want to give this book to all the manu-ing bros and cuzzies who are living overseas to remind them what home feels like on the skin. Listen to me, I’m not even Māori. Airana Ngarewa just has that effect on me.
These short stories in Pātea Boys (Ngāti Pātea in the te reo version) are mostly funny yarns, bookmarked by vaping aunties, drenched with boys leaping into water for the sheer hell of it. Airana makes Pātea sound like the best place to spend a childhood, as timelessly cool as its number one hit: Poi E which has taken up residence on loop in my head and threatening to break through at inappropriate moments (actually, perhaps no moment is inappropriate for Poi E). There’s a tint of rose-coloured nostalgia cloaking the old town: harmless fun, boys besting each other: the meanest manu, the fastest race, the most near-death experiences, best prank. But it’s not all a laugh. We go back to a young girl running light-footed through forest in the dark, an ancestor of these kids, one who slips past the colonial forces to light a signal fire. There’s a sentient historic waka sunk on the river bank finally rescued from the mud after over a century by a couple of idiotic, bantering kids. Life is not all dive bombs and kai, but these are the things remembered.
Continue reading “Pātea Boys – Book review”The Writing Desk, by Di Morris
I bought this hardcover book on sight at the launch. I want it on my bookshelves immediately to start showing to people. The book itself feels like a treasure, a brand new presentation of an old world, with heavy shiny paper, crisp print and a sharp layout, illustrating a family story from the 1850s to the current day. There are old photos and copies of telegrams, letters, tickets, and all sorts of ephemera, full-page background designs in a range of heightened sepia and all overlaid with panel-squares of exquisite drawings and minimal text, just enough to tie a story through all the pictures. And what a story.
Continue reading “The Writing Desk – Book Review”The Mess of our lives, by Mary-anne Scott
I’d never given much thought to hoarding, but after reading Mary-anne Scott’s new book I’m seeing it everywhere. In the press. A memory of an uncle’s bedroom stacked with pillars of newspapers. I passed a couple of young boys on bikes, one of them saying: ‘I’m going to grandma’s. I hate it, the place is full of stuff.’ We get close to what being ‘full of stuff’ really means in The Mess of our Lives. This is no organised collection of things. It’s just a house so full of junk a woman keeps buying that the front door barely opens and there is no access to any of the rooms other than by tunnel to her armchair and TV. A nest for a bed. A barely functioning bathroom and a kitchen with rodents. But there is more in this book than a mother’s disorder. There is the effect it has on her kids.
Continue reading “The Mess of our Lives–book review”Sewing Moonlight, by Kyle Mewburn
This is such a beautifully written book. So elegant, with space to breathe between the lines. I had the feeling, when I finally put the book down, of having been read to while I sat with my eyes closed.
It’s the early 1920s when our man in exile, Wilhelm, sails across the world from Germany and up the Clutha River until his progress is stopped dramatically. There are lots of ways to arrive in a town and this bizarre arrival has a strange ring of truth. He decides this is a sign he should give up the travels and put his feet on the ground here, in a place called Falter’s Mill. It’s as good a place as any to build a new life from scratch and find happiness.
Continue reading “Sewing Moonlight – book review”Talking in Ōkiwi Bay
It was a real honour to be invited to speak at the Eastbourne Historical Society’s 2024 AGM, held yesterday. This is a very active society full of researchers, historians and writers whose lives revolve around the eastern bays of Port Nicholson, and yes, I felt a decided frisson in the meeting being held on the edge of what was Ōkiwi Bay, the stomping ground of my man, Ōkiwi Brown, himself. Or their man Ōkiwi Brown, I should say. They were a delightful audience, many bought a copy of my book and I do hope they jump right into the text and start arguing with it. I’ve already had one great lead to follow up – ‘who shot Burke’s wife?’ was a question from the floor I couldn’t answer (love those) but has me buzzing now. I’ve posted a transcript of the talk, here: Turning History into Fiction.
Continue reading “Turning History into Fiction”The bookshop Detectives, Dead Girl Gone, by Gareth and Louise Ward
A disclosure before I write this review. I know these guys. They are good friends and their bookshop is my local. I love the shop, I love the staff, and I love them. They are terrifically supportive of local writers. That makes writing an honest review of The Bookshop Detectives either very difficult or absolutely lovely and, (well, you can guess what is coming as I don’t review books I don’t like) this is one hundred percent the latter. It’s terrific.
Continue reading “The Bookshop Dectectives, Dead Girl Gone – Book Review”Ōkiwi Brown, by Cristina Sanders
*Currently on the Longlist for the Ngaio Awards!*
The Burke and Hare anatomy murders terrified Edinburgh in the 1830s – innocents smothered and packed fresh for the anatomist’s knife. Burke was publicly hanged before a crowd of thousands. William Hare, after turning king’s evidence against his erstwhile partner, was released. Somewhere south of Dumfries near the small river port of Annan, he was set down from a cart and told to walk on to England and never return. There, he disappears from history.
The Girl From London, by Olivia Spooner
I started this on a Tuesday night and ended up crying in a café on Thursday morning. I can’t remember when I’ve been so moved by the ending of a story. There is a book within the book. When the former ended a bit too neatly I was a slightly disbelieving, until I realised that actually, well, I’m giving no spoilers, but it’s a war story, after all. I’m not usually known for my tears.
The whole story ties in well with my current interest in stories of those who immigrated to New Zealand down the years, and why they came. Children evacuees from London bombings? I had no idea. Can you imagine sending your children out of a bomb zone, and not to the close countryside, which would be wrenching enough, but through a war-infested sea to an unknown land at the far ends of the earth? And yet people did.
Continue reading “The Girl From London – book review”Gracehopper, by Mandy Hager
I think Gracehopper is a lovely title for this book. Grace was born during an earthquake in Taiwan and her kiwi mother is rescued by the New Zealand authorities and brings her home. The mother has some serious issues and is reluctant to discuss the past. Grace, with obvious Asian parentage, hops around her, wanting to know her own history but reluctant to send her mother over the edge (again). She breathes. Jeet Kun Do is her stability. Energy in. Hold. Spread the peace. Energy in. Hold. Spread the peace. It is a graceful martial art.
Continue reading “Gracehopper – book review”
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