My Friends, by Hisham Matar
Any book that offers a description of a face ‘like a landscape liable to bad weather‘ has got my love. This is a writer with poetry in his soul. ‘We shared the city the way honest labourers share tools,’ he says of two young men finding their way around London. He describes a nurse who ‘would gently tuck in my bedsheet like a skilled cook filleting a fish.’ This is classy writing.
Continue reading “My Friends”The Grimmelings, by Rachel King
Undersong: the sounds of a landscape
Chapters in The Grimmelings begin with a curious word or two, just to set the scene. ‘Undersong‘, one of the words to introduce Chapter Four, describes the background noise we live with, all the time. Can you hear it? I’ve got traffic drone at the moment. I’d rather the undersong of the lake, which I’ll call ‘Flitsplish’, as I have a bit of the Scottish in me. Rachel King’s book itself has an undersong: it’s the rhythm and poetry of the best children’s stories. I was mesmerised from the first line.
The same evening Josh Underhill went missing, the black horse appeared on the hill above the house.
Classic.
Continue reading “The Grimmelings–book review”Prophet Song, by Paul Lynch
When I described the plot of this book to my hubby – about a country turned to anarchy, the tyranny of a government and brutality of the rebels –he said it could never happen in modern Ireland. This surprised me, as we were living in London during the troubles, had felt the bombings personally. It wasn’t so long ago. And Hitler’s rise to power less a century ago illustrates how a modern country can turn on itself in a heartbeat of time. Why assume sectarian violence has gone away? And yet Ireland, today, seems such a peaceful place. Paul Lynch’s book imagines how, still, it could turn. Horribly, given the increasingly polarised state of the world, I found his scenario felt entirely possible.
Continue reading “Prophet Song – book review”The Fraud, by Zadie Smith
The Fraud is an ambitious book, not one to take lightly. It encompasses the true story of an identity fraud trial in the 1800s, where a man returning from the colonies supposes to be not an East End butcher, but the lost son of a wealthy family. The family say he isn’t. Others, including a loyal black servant and the masses, believe he is.
Continue reading “The Fraud – book review”Absolutely and Forever, by Rose Tremain
This is a slim book about first love, and Rose Tremain is at her absolute pitch-perfect best. Oh! That aching yearning of waiting for a boy and the need to know everything about him and be with him all the time. Marianne, at fifteen, has fallen in love with Simon. Her mother says: ‘Nobody falls in love at your age, Marianne. What they get are “crushes” on people’. But her mother could not be more wrong. I can’t think of any better description of love than Marianne’s: the narcissism and obsession, the fear and frenzy of it. She’s fizzing with love.
Continue reading “Absolutely and Forever”Lola in the Mirror, by Trent Dalton
Trent Dalton has done it again – Lola in the Mirror is Boy Swallows Universe in all its unmitigated glory, but in Lola in the Mirror we have a girl hero who’s on the rocks, fighting to gain a place in the world. This was one of my favourite books of 2023 and I do recommend it for the feisty characters, twisting plot, adversity, love and gorgeous writing all wrapped up in a thrilling read. Yes, it is sentimental and the homelessness described is packaged with optimism. Barbara Kingsolver did this with her brilliant Demon Copperhead; she gave the narration of a deprivation story to a gustsy kid with smarts. Perhaps such optimism doesn’t live in broken cars in junk yards. Or, just perhaps, it does.
Continue reading “Lola in the Mirror – book review”Bird Life, by Anna Smaill
This is a book set in Tokyo. The descriptions of the city are detailed and fabulous, from the vending machines to the ritual greetings and the culture of shopping for therapy, the tingling sounds and twinkling sights of Shinjuku, Ikebukuro, Asakura; all totally immersive. The plot (though there isn’t much of a plot, this is more psychological exploration) follows a few months in the lives of two women, Dinah and Yasuko: both of whom have fairly alarming psychosis. The narration alternates between these women, and although we are told they are very different – one is Japanese, middle-aged, charismatic; the other a dowdy kiwi not much older than the other’s son (and hold that thought) – their disconnected mental states and inability to offer any rational opinion do make them feel a bit like they speak with the same voice. They both teach English to Japanese students at the same language school and quickly become intimate friends.
Continue reading “Bird Life”The Seventh Son, by Sebastian Faulks
There are books that are a joy to read for their elegant writing, and books you devour for their clever plot. This was both for me. I could feel it calling from my bedside table as I went through my day. It’s centered around interesting, provocative subjects – mostly genetics and anthropology –which gives it lots of potential for a book club read, and kicks off a conversation that starts: what if this really happened? However…
Continue reading “The Seventh Son – book review”Ingenious Pain, by Andrew Miller
This book was recommended by a good reader to me, one with a shared love of historical fiction. It’s by Andrew Miller, who later wrote the fabulous but misnamed Pure about the stink of a cemetery in Paris in 1785, which I thoroughly recommend for a wallow in atmospheric history. Ingenious Pain not so much. There are flashes of writing that evoke time and place brilliantly, like: “Candlemas, 1767. The streets perfumed with coal smoke and frost, the night sky richly hammered with stars.” Perfect. A whole description in fifteen words. But these word-riches are not as frequently distributed as in Pure, and don’t flow as easily. I will still recommend Ingenious Pain, but if you’re only going to read one Miller, make it Pure, for sure.
Continue reading “Ingenious Pain – book review”The Bone Tree, by Airana Ngarewa
I met Airana at a book festival. He’s a presence – full of youth and energy and a willingness to be in the moment. He speaks the reo in a voice that carries across an audience and compels you to listen. No wonder his debut book is so gripping. I reckon when this guy has a story, you’ll want to sit up and listen.
The Bone Tree is, yes, another story of a dysfunctional Māori family living on the edge. In this case, they’re toppling over. There is little relief and no laughs; it’s the story of the misery of a good kid – I was going to say ‘who deserves better’, but of course all kids deserve better than this. The Bone Tree is narrated by Kauri, also called Cody by fat-tongued white folk, the implication being that his name is never written down. He lives in a totally dilapidated house on a bit of land in the ‘wopwops’. When his mum dies, dad carries her body out to bury her somewhere on the land, and later the kids do the same for the dad. Kauri’s dad, a violent alcoholic, has left him with a bad shoulder and a scar under his right eye, and maybe the boy’s life will be better without him. When the little brother, Black, gets sick, Kauri is the sole caregiver with no sense of how to save him. His main focus is to hide the fact the the kids are alone, to prevent CYPS from taking Black into care. This fear of the authorities underlies the whole story and it is malignant and irrational and yet, for this child, is the bedrock of his belief. He eventually walks to the city and is given food and Māori medicine, and his brother continues to decline.
Continue reading “The Bone Tree – book review”
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