Sixteen Trees of the Somme – book review

Sixteen Trees of the Somme, by Lars Mytting

There is something about Norwegian writing that reminds me of Irish literature. It’s so centred on place, it’s the being there that grounds the story. We are different here, these stories say, our culture is wrapped around our traditional ways based on a history, geography and climate that are distinctly our own. It’s like the country itself has a voice. We are beginning to understand this power in New Zealand writing and could take lessons from these countries, for sure. Lars Mytting’s voice is profoundly Norwegian. There is always the expectation of snow on his boots and trolls under the woodpile.

Sixteen Trees of the Somme has a long reach. The base of the story is a Norwegian farm – mostly in the snow but summer visits occasionally – and it’s a mystery and a history and a resistance story and has love and travel and coming of age, a history of gun making and an obsession with trees and their particular wood and so many other things. Lots of secrets to unravel. It kept me spellbound.

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The Chthonic Cycle – book review

The Chthonic Cycle, by Una Cruickshank

First a huge congratulations for the presentation of this book and it’s glorious fold out covers, featuring Sasha Francis’s artistic impression of its themes. It sums them up, natural forces, re-birth, jewels, fossils, water, all strewn together across the page, interconnected and tantalising. Most of the stuff pictured I don’t recognise and nor would I if it were under my feet – how many of us have walked past a lump of ambergris in the sand or sat on a rock hiding a small fortune of ammonites? This book is full of things you may have missed.

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The Demolition of the Century– book review

The Demolition of the Century, by Duncan Sarkies

Tom is in insurance. Things turn bad when he checks up on a highly insured horse that dies unexpectedly and is quickly buried. There are sock-fulls of cash involved. He’s also got a failing marriage and a young boy, Frank, who he is meant to be collecting from school, but he is late because the gangsters are after him. I feel no sympathy for this character. Yet.

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Offshore – book review

Offshore, by Penelope Fitzgerald

I don’t know how I missed this book as a teenager, I would have loved it. Since then, I have lived in London and married a bloke with a boat on the Thames, not one we lived on full time, as the people do in this book, but an old 45 ft pilot launch from Scotland that we would motor from Chiswick Quay Marina to Kew and Richmond. Getting up to Isleworth we’d moor up for the weekend and wait for the water to drop so we could check the boat’s bottom before getting tanked at the London Apprentice. Trips down to Battersea were always a bit more dodgy with the racing tides and looming, very solid bridges. The Battersea Reach is where this book is set and the characters full time boat dwellers, which makes them a breed of their own.

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The Royal Free – book review

The Royal Free, by Carl Shuker

OK, so don’t shoot me for asking the question, but is this book even a finished novel? What is Carl Shuker trying to do here and why doesn’t he just tell the story? I know why his editors let him do it – because it is clever and edgy and wildly confusing in a way that makes you think it’s your problem for not getting it, not the fact that the book is so disjointed you could have it served up for dinner with no idea what beast it was. It’s experimental, for sure. There are literary nods and references, clever but incidental. So why is it on my list of books I love?

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Creation Lake – Book Review

Creation Lake, by Rachel Kushner

Very nearly an excellent book, but…

I’m intrigued from the start with Sadie, our kick-ass narrator. She’s a singular character, I’ll risk a bit of woke chastisement and suggest she felt masculine: decisive, job-focused, practical. Her job has no ethical element to it, she abuses trust for financial gain. A drinking driver, but she tells us she knows how much she can take, and a slovenly eater – warm beer, fast-food, the rubbish piling up around her. She’s very low on empathy, callously uses men for advantage, talks about her body like it’s a weapon. Got a breast enlargement and knows how to use it. Fantastic mercenary women agents have been turning up for a while, from Tomb Raider to Black Doves (mostly male creations I think), but these usually have an compassionate flip-side, perhaps to feed the male fantasy. Sadie is just unbalanced. This makes her interesting. Her narration is straight-forward.

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The Essex Serpent – book review

The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry

We haven’t changed so much since Victorian times. They chased after mysteries, fell in love inappropriately, refused to be pigeon-holed, got passionate about causes, died bright-eyed of lingering illnesses, and tried to make the world a better place for the less fortunate. The Essex Serpent is very much a character story with a perfect selection of characters: each distinct, with their own needs and foibles, each with their own way of engaging with the others. If that sounds a bit trite it absolutely is not: there is no feeling of a manufactured band here, this is not one of those dreadful ‘found families’ stories. They just meld together all over the place and it’s magic.

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There are rivers in the sky–book review

There are rivers in the sky, by Elif Shafak

I bought this book because of the insanely pretty cover (the silver drops are embossed) and for the fact that there is a woman called Zaleekah in it. My sailboat is called Zuleika, a name from the same root. I thought I could find a bit more about the name, it’s not common. And yes, I did. I also learned heaps about the ancient city of Nineveh in Mesopotamia, the rivers Tigris and Euphrates, and lots about the world’s earliest poem, Gilgamesh, which was carved into stone tablets. The ruse for this story is that water falls from the sky and is recycled over and over again. We meet the first raindrop when it falls on a Mesopotamian king and it resurfaces again for our three storytellers: a slum boy in Victorian London; a Yazidi girl who travels to war torn Iraq in 2014 and a miserable woman in 2018 London who is ungrateful to her rich relatives. I don’t know why these three narrators. The drop of water seems a tenuous selection process.

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Songbirds of Florence–book review

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!

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Pātea Boys – 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.

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