Good reads – Page 2 – Cristina Sanders' blog

1985 – book review

1985, by Dominic Hoey

I guess Dominic Hoey sets his street cred early on in this story by throwing in a couple of ‘cunts’, just in case readers mistake him for an IIML grad. That would be a mistake. You can’t study to write authenticity like this.

Hoey’s previous story, descriptively called Poor People With Money is about youngsters on the edge in Auckland, making bad choices and rocking the consequences on a wild ride to a village so small. It’s on my list of classics of the decade. Can he do it again?

A Different Kind of Power – book review

A Different Kind of Power, by Jacinda Ardern

I didn’t know political biographies could be like this. There’s not a nasty bone in its body. I haven’t read a book so uplifting for a long time but I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, Jacinda Ardern’s signature is kindness. No one was expecting she’d take the opportunity now she has left office and living overseas to get stuck into the dozens of goons she must have had to deal with on a daily basis.

Wonderland – book review

Wonderland, by Tracy Farr

I really hope this book smashes the awards next year. It’s a damn good story about family dynamics and dealing with life’s ups and downs in a Wellington seaside suburb in the early 1900s. Oh, and for some reason, Tracy Farr decided to stretch belief a bit to invent a scenario where scientist Marie Curie comes to lodge with this very kiwi family. She is hiding out of the public eye as she recovers from scandal and illness. Each of these very different story-lines offers a good premise, the weird thing is to put them together. What was Farr thinking? Whatever madness caused it, we need more of it in our novels.

In Ascension – book review

In Ascension, by Martin MacInnes

I was absolutely engrossed in this novel. It had everything I love in a book; it took me away to places I’ll probably never go (a deep sea trench and space, for example) and concentrated on the one storyteller with all other characters only really understood in relation to her – a deep dive into the head of a very interesting woman. Leigh is a Dutch biologist, very nerdy, interested in the beginnings of life on earth. She is also the survivor of a father’s beatings, a mother who consoled her but would not stop the beatings and a sister Leah protected so she didn’t get beaten. He died and she tried to make herself anonymous. I felt the father as an understated presence in the story. He is not the story. The story is the science.

Much of Leah’s childhood is related in a pragmatic fashion, ignoring the ‘show don’t tell’ rule of modern writing. She tells us, and moves on. She has an extraordinary life, there is lots to cover and Leigh is pretty straightforward. Her science, on the other hand, is – like most things we don’t understand – utter magic. The places she takes us are deeply compelling and we linger over the meaning behind things.

Pretty Ugly – book review

Pretty Ugly, by Kirsty Gunn

On the strength of this book I am going to build a new bookshelf in the spare bedroom, just for short stories. For guests who stay a couple of nights and might otherwise run off with an unputdownable novel. Let them fill their early mornings or sleepless nights with Kirsty Gunn. That’s what short stories are for; they’re probably not designed to be consumed all at once like I did these. I couldn’t help it. These short stories are terrific.

At the Grand Glacier Hotel – book review

At The Grand Glacier Hotel, by Laurence Fearnley

Laurence Fearnley sure knows how to write. I loved Libby’s voice in the book from the off, assured, authentic, telling a story in a way that fully engaged me. And I love the idea of The Grand Glacier Hotel – we’re a bit low on mountains up here in the north but I pictured the Chateau on Ruapehu and imagined the fading glory of such a place against the backdrop of the Southern Alps. It’s a terrific setting for a story, a touch of Hotel du Lac, a place where people go with baggage that needs to be put down for a while.

The Household – book review

The Household, by Stacey Halls

Dickens only appears in the background of this story, although the stamp of his concerns and values are everywhere. The Household is the story of historic Urania Cottage, an establishment set up by Dickens in the mid 1840s for ‘fallen women’, told through the eyes of two of the women and also their benefactrix, Angela Burdett-Coutts. So much misogyny in that word ‘fallen’ when you’d think falling is something a woman is capable of doing on her own. Expressions like The girls fell pregnant” and “…poor Lydia Rice had started a child” manage, so wonderfully, to excuse men of responsibility entirely.

At Urania Cottage the aim is to help these women rise up and help themselves by teaching them domestic skills before sending them off to Australia, God help them, to find useful jobs and husbands. Help both noble and patronising in that ridiculous Victorian way that pulls your heart.

Norwegian Wood, chopping, stacking and drying wood the Scandinavian way – book review

Norwegian Wood, by Lars Mytting

This is one of the most relaxing and enjoyable books I know. Odd, because it is full of men with axes living in freezing temperatures in remote forests, involving strenuous physical labour. All the hard work is for the benefit of the person snug by the fireside, tucked away from the harsh world outside. That’s us. The lucky readers.

Ash – book review

Ash, by Louise Wallace

I saw a cartoon recently of a woman at the sink with a mop in one hand, a baby in the other, two tugging at her skirts and her man behind saying something like, “You’re not the fun loving woman I married.” Had me chortling with the laughter of ironic truth. In the same vein of misunderstanding, you may think Wallace’s book, Ash, is about the ash that has spewed from the volcano to cover everything and how the townspeople cope with this disaster. But it’s not. It’s about being a mother. And it’s bloody good.

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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