Category: Book Reviews

Book Review: Farewell to Eden by Sebastian Faulks – a brilliant new historical novel from the author of Birdsong

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

You often learn something in a Sebastian Faulks novel. In Farewell to Eden I learned about the establishment of the state of Israel – through the eyes of main character Philip Deval, an English army officer. We’re in 1946, and with WWII finally over, Philip, unsure what civilian life would offer him back in England, has signed up to help in the final days of the British Mandate. The Sea of Galilee glimmers, the sun’s out and it’s almost like a holiday – if it weren’t for the sudden eruptions of violence here and there. Not everyone’s happy with the British presence in Palestine, it would seem.

The events that happen, the people he gets to know will leave a lasting impression, and the story slips both back in time to years before the war and Philip’s meeting Alice, a fellow philosophy post-grad. student, as well as what happens after Philip’s stint in Palestine. We follow Philip’s life over the decades, and for a lot of the book I thought it was just a book about Philip’s coping with war’s aftermath as well as world events seen through a bystander’s eyes. Philip’s a regular nice guy, pleasant company who makes friends easily, and a good leader of men – the perfect bystander character.

First off, he has a doctorate in philosophy, so the ideal person to evaluate and consider events in the light of the wisdom of the ages. And with his great friend, Matthew, the army chaplain there are interesting conversations about politics, religion, love and life. Philip has a tragedy he has never quite managed to get over – where was God in all that? Among the cast of characters we meet a survivor of the Holocaust, so as well as what he sees in Palestine, there’s plenty to mull over.

The book begins a bit later, in 1951, with Philip having drifted into a teaching career. He fetches up at Witchelm, a small girls boarding school where he settles in as a French teacher. Again, he gets on well with pupils and staff alike. But you can’t quite help feeling that he’s a fish out of water. After what he’s seen as a soldier and now it’s netball umpiring and evening cocoa in the staffroom. Yet, Sebastian Faulks is such a master of plot and character, you know there’s a reason for everything that happens.

Every aspect of the day was strange, Philip found. The urgent running of the girls in the corridor after lunch – but on Wednesdays only. For what reason could that be? An issue of sweets or letters of home? The change of clothing on a Saturday from the grey flannel skirts and walking shoes into trousers with navy pullovers and brown plimsolls. The weekly whole-school assembly with the staff lined up in what seemed like evening dress, for which Ian Linwall had to lend him a bow tie. Why? Miss Darwood in a blue statin dress, staring at her feet, Dr Chilvers in a man’s suit with trousers, her fringe and brown bob neatly brushed as she gazed out at the school, waiting for Miss Graveney’s entrance.

Farewell to Eden is another masterwork by Faulks. The author has done a ton of research and the Palestine chunks of the book give the reader a good grounding in the history of the establishment of Israel, the factions and the politicking. So very timely when you consider recent events. And while you do learn some history this is also a brilliantly entertaining read as well. The scenes of Philip enjoying himself with Alice’s family, with his fellow soldiers, are fun. Philip has a wry humour and there’s wonderful dialogue, but action too. So lots to keep the reader amused. And then that ending – wow!

It’s always nice to discover exciting new authors – and today we are so spoilt for choice. But it’s also wonderful to read a favourite author and discover he’s still up to scratch. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Farewell to Eden and I was not disappointed. It’s a five-star read from me.

Book Review: Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors – a family of siblings coping with tragedy and addiction

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Coco Mellors second novel focuses on the lives of three sisters who return to their family apartment in New York following the news that their mother is going to sell it. I have often enjoyed books about siblings returning to where they grew up, often to deal with ageing parents and having to get over their differences. And it’s a bit like this with Blue Sisters.

First there’s Avery, the eldest, a lawyer now living in London with her wife Chiti, a picture of success; then Bonnie, a world-class champion boxer who has abandoned boxing to work as a bouncer for a night-club in L.A.; and Lucky, the youngest, a fashion model based in Paris with a substance-abuse problem.

The family is still reeling from the tragedy of their sister’s death a year ago. The fourth sister, Nicky, who was the nice one, the school teacher everyone loved, who yearned for a family of her own. Nicky’s story also involves dependency on painkillers, which she takes to deal with her crippling endometriosis.

The story is narrated by each of the three sisters in turn, and we get the backstory and how they eventually make their way to New York, each of them running away from something. I found Avery, under pressure from Chiti to start a family, less interesting until suddenly she wasn’t. The fashion world of top models is revealed warts and all and it suddenly isn’t surprising that Lucky is an addict. But I found Bonnie’s story and that of the disciplined world of boxing particularly interesting.

Woven through it all is the theme of addiction, different kinds of addiction and its ability to ruin families. And because Chiti is a therapist, you get quite a lot of therapy too. Sometimes I found this invaded the story a little too much. There’s also a lot of guilt. While Avery isn’t blaming her mother for her poor parenting, for not leaving her drunk of a husband, she’s feeling guilty for not helping Nicky, for not seeing her struggles, a guilt shared by her sisters. We don’t meet the girls’ mother until the end of the book, but she was really interesting too, and I wouldn’t have minded seeing a bit more of her.

Growing up, she and her sisters had everything they needed, but not what they wanted, which was space. Too close for comfort. A cliché, but it was true. They were too close to be comfortable in that home. There was one bathroom for all six of them; Prufrock may have measured out his life with coffee spoons, she always thought, but Avery measured hers in the hours she spent waiting for that bathroom to be free. At the time, she’d hated it; she and her sisters felt like lobsters packed into a murky tank, each of them jostling and bumping up against the other to reach the light above the water. All through her adolescence she longed to leave, but she stayed living in that home until Bonnie started training, Nicky went to college, and Lucky began traveling as a model. Once her sisters were all safely out, she allowed herself to flee.

The Blue Sisters is a very readable, engaging story with several great settings – including Hampstead and New York – and three well-drawn narrative voices. It’s an easy read, even if it does deal with difficult themes, and the way the sisters relate to each other, disagree, fight and come back to each other seems very real. A good read if not a great one – three and a half stars from me.

Book Review: The Way of All Flesh by Ambrose Parry – the first in a riveting mystery series set in Victorian Edinburgh

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Ambrose Parry is the pseudonym for the husband and wife team of Chris Brookmyre, an award winning crime writer, and Dr Marisa Haetzman, a consultant anaesthetist. They combine their talents and expertise to great effect in this story set in mid 1800s Edinburgh, a time when the discovery of chloroform opened the door for safer and more humane surgery.

Enter one Will Raven, a young medical student apprenticed to work for a brilliant doctor specialising in delivering babies, using ether when required. Will arrives troubled by the death of a prostitute and friend, her body contorted to suggest she was poisoned. Other prostitutes have met a similar fate. This isn’t his only problem. The night before he’s to begin his apprenticeship, he is set upon by thugs working for a loan shark. He turns up at Dr Simpson’s house filthy, wounded and dishevelled, but the eccentric doctor doesn’t seem particularly bothered, as there’s work to be done.

Our other main character is Sarah Fisher, a housemaid in the Simpson household who comes from a family of healers. She helps out in Simpson’s clinic when her long list of household duties allow, and soon forms a dislike of Raven who is surprised by her chutzpah. Sarah is just as smart as Raven, but held back by her place in society and by being a woman. Raven arrives with secrets and the burden of having to appeal to a miserly uncle to fund his studies.

Sarah tramped along Princes Street several paces behind Mina, giving her an interrupted view of the dirt that was becoming attached to Mina’s skirt. She was effectively sweeping the pavement with her numerous petticoats. Sarah added the cleaning of these to the perpetually lengthening list of chores that she would be expected to complete by the end of the day. She thought of Sisyphus and his giant boulder, condemned for all eternity to engage in an ultimately pointless task.

The two main characters become awkward allies in their determination to find who is murdering at-risk women when a maid Sarah is acquainted with becomes the next victim. The story bounces along with several subplots, including Simpson’s eventual use of chloroform, following a hilarious scene where the young doctors of the house and one or two others experiment on themselves. Peppered through it all are scenes of women in labour and babies being delivered. Some of these are tragic and grim, others with happier outcomes. Fortunately, the authors know when to hold back on the details, but it still makes you think how lucky we are to enjoy the benefits of modern medicine.

I loved the characters of Raven and Sarah, the way they bounce off each other, both struggling to be make their way in the medical world. Raven’s loan-shark thugs lurk, ready to do more damage, and there’s also the tension of a killer at large poised to strike again. We get a look into new technologies, in pharmaceuticals and also the burgeoning art of photography. It all brings the period to life, and descriptions of the streets Edinburgh are also evocatively rendered.

The Way of All Flesh is the first book about Raven and Fisher, and was such a brilliant read I rattled through it every chance I got. There are now five books in the series, which has garnered a bunch of nominations for Dagger Awards and the McIllvanney Prize. I love a well put-together historical mystery and this one ticks all the boxes. It’s a four-and-a-half-star read from me.

Book Review: Murder at the Grand Alpine Hotel by Lucy Foley – the new Miss Marple mystery novel

~ Judith ~ 1 Comment

I am unapologetically an Agatha Christie fan – probably something to do with fond reading memories as a teenager. I have a stash of Christie fiction salted away for when I need a relaxing read and I still find them engaging. I’ve also really enjoyed several of Lucy Foley’s thrillers, so I was both excited and intrigued when I heard she’d penned a new Miss Marple.

From the start of Murder at the Grand Alpine Hotel, Lucy Foley seems to have made several wise choices about how she set about planning the story, capturing the spirit of the earlier books but making it appealing to the modern reader. She has written in a similar style to her own previously published books, with several narrative voices, though it’s Diana Glass we warm to. She’s Mrs Bantry’s companion. You may remember Dolly Bantry, a main character in The Body in the Library, and a good friend of Miss Marple’s. Since the death of her husband and sale of her home, Gossington Hall, she has made some changes – taking on a companion and deciding to do a little travelling.

Enter Diana Glass who helps her choose what kind of trip and Miss Marple, who comes along to keep Dolly company. Not long into their stay in the Swiss Alpine resort, there’s a murder. The narrative flips to Catherine Narracott, the wife of a prominent politician, Anthony Narracott. Anthony has a veneer of charm – he’s good-looking and a war hero – while underneath is a grasping, autocratic and conniving individual. Catherine is much younger than her husband and never seems able to please him.

Other narrative voices include Anthony’s scruffy, unlikely friend Bruno Crane and Sylvia Sinclair, a movie star who has a more romantic connection with Anthony. There are more characters who seem to have an odd reason for being at the resort, including a young man anxious to talk to Catherine about her husband. Nobody’s very happy, and everyone seems to want something beyond a nice day’s skiing.

  I lift my camera and take a few photographs of the peaks that seem to surge above us.
   ‘I wonder,’ says Miss Marple, ‘if your photography is a little like my bird-watching.’
   ‘What do you mean?’ I ask.
   ‘Well, that it often proves a useful way of satisfying one’s curiosity.’
   I manage a laugh. ‘Well, I take pictures of landscapes and animals. You make it sound a little … prurient.’
   ‘Oh, I didn’t mean that. Only … I wondered if you ever experience the same thing I do. One goes to observe one thing, but people will keep getting in the way.’

There’s a modern, present tense style of writing, which keeps things humming along, but there are enough references to the Miss Marple canon to make old fans like me nod their heads and smile. The character of Dolly Bantry and in particular Miss Marple ring true, and while she doesn’t do a lot to start with, her sharp eyes taking things in, as the story progresses and the body count rises, she swings into investigating in true Miss Marple form. We’ve also got a setting away from Miss Marple’s village, like quite a few of the earlier books, so I wonder if there will be more novels like this, planting our elderly sleuth in an interesting environment.

Murder at the Grand Alpine Hotel is a light, enjoyable mystery with a nice 1950s feel – World War II still casting a shadow, the role of women explored, and the feeling from several characters’ points of view that things need to change. There are red herrings and plot-twists, just as you’d expect, and while I still prefer the original Miss Marples, this is still well worth picking up. A three-and-half star read from me.

Book Review: May We Feed the King by Rebecca Perry – a poetic and original novel from the Booker shortlist

~ Judith ~ 1 Comment

I don’t often get around to reading the entire Booker shortlist but I do like to read at least one or two before the winner is announced. This year there are several that have caught my eye, and this one looked particularly interesting. May We Feed the King is set in a palace over two time frames. Beginning with an unnamed museum curator, we follow her work bringing to life the home and world of a largely forgotten king. She takes her time dressing the rooms, which she aims to look as if someone from the period has just walked out.

We’re in the Medieval era and the work is to commemorate the 750-year anniversary of the palace. There’s a lot of research involved and the curator is devoted to getting everything just right. She has recently suffered a personal loss, and she’s a withdrawn sort of person, which at times makes the people paying her nervous. Only the archivist seems to inspire any softening of her reserve.

In this way she is not completely dissimilar to the King, the reluctant monarch, unprepared and suddenly on the throne following the death of a brother. Both his brothers seem to have taken to leadership with gusto, the eldest having a reputation for bravery and a willingness to go to war, the middle brother learning the ropes and following his advisors’ suggestions. But our new King would rather stroll through the garden, avoiding calls from his advisors to act.

We follow the King’s story which is told in snippets, often asides of what a courtier saw, what an attendant heard. Facts and the truth are hard to pinpoint, while rumour and gossip run amok. And you can hardly blame people, when the King is so reluctant to put himself forward, to make a declaration or even to present an opinion. Just one attendant seems to have earned his trust, a young man who was there when his brother died.

When the King’s shock has settled, he finds that his other feelings come into focus.

Loneliness, like a terrible cave.

His companions from before he was King, select though they were, now bow to him, and won’t turn their backs to leave a room. When he is able to receive their company in his chambers, they are stiff and uncomfortable, despite his assurances.

There are men who seek to attach themselves to power, and there are those who do not. For some, a King is the cure, and for others, he is the disease.

We feel for this king, suddenly having to do a job he has no aptitude or ambition for, as well as the curator trying to find the truth of his time. Was it really like this? How can we be sure that this or that happened as it has been portrayed? These are the thoughts that the author seems to be playing with. It’s a different kind of story that might make you rethink what you imagine when you visit a museum or heritage site or even think about history.

May We Feed the King is beautifully written in a straight-forward, elegant style that suggests thought has been given every word as well as the way the text is arranged. Dialogue is mostly revealed as reported speech. Paragraphs are separated by spaces. So it’s easy to rattle through the book quite quickly, but I felt I could easily read it again and find more to enjoy and more to think about, and with such lovely language, why not? A five-star read from me.

Book Review: Country People by Daniel Mason – a quirky tale of family, friendship and finding your way

~ Judith ~ 2 Comments

It is so refreshing when you come across a writer who is just such a good storyteller, has a wonderful way with language, and a completely original idea that just works. This was the case for me with Daniel Mason’s new book Country People.

The story is told from the point of view of Miles, forty-something, a man who has never quite finished his PhD, which is something to do with Tolstoy, but keeps shifting its focus. When his wife Kate is offered a visiting professorship at a college in Vermont, the idea is this will be the perfect opportunity to complete that dissertation. So they pack up the kids (Wesley and Olive) and their dog Giuseppe, which is the kind bred for truffle digging, and leave California.

The story follows their time in Vermont, through the seasons, as Miles finds endless distractions and slowly builds a sense of community. Kate, a warm-hearted and engaging teacher soon makes friends among her colleagues. But she worries about Miles, who is charming and can strike up a conversation with anyone, but seems a bit lonely. She never seems frustrated at his failure to complete his studies, or build a career, which might upset other spouses.

A colleague of Kate’s suggests he visit her husband, who has an orchard and who shows Miles how to scythe a field, which he can justify as research – Tolstoy’s peasants scythed. He helps out with the school production of a Shakespearean play directed by a flirty young thespian and meets a random collection of odd characters who are committed to discovering a hidden world. But none of these people are the kinds of people he imagines Kate would approve of, so he finds himself keeping secrets from her.

Seventeen miles away, at a gas station, they found themselves in a land of culinary abundance. What exotic flavours! What strange delectations! Raised in the land of the unprocessed and organic, attending public schools that maintained their own gardens, never had the children tasted of the Slurpee, the Twinkie, or the Pepperoni Pizza Cracker. Pringles they knew, but only at a distance. The friendly werewolf smiling on the chicken-flavoured puffs was still a stranger. Could they guess the central ingredient of the Corn Nut? Who was this Sara Lee of such extraordinary industry? Or “Slim Jim,” and why were his meat sticks packaged in the same colour scheme as Pennzoil?

One thing I really liked about the book was that in spite of some of their odd ideas, all the characters are kind. Miles and his family are all good sorts too, which makes a welcome change as often contemporary fiction is peppered with characters who have issues, who rage or who are just unpleasant. But here the author, like Miles, seems to find the good in everyone and yet still make them really interesting. And when disaster strikes, they all come together when they need to.

The other thing I really enjoyed was the way you read through the seasons and the setting changes to suit that, along with the local activities. Swimming in the river, autumn harvesting to skiing lessons and everything in between. It kind of meanders a little, but in an enjoyable way, and is never boring, before building up to a brilliant conclusion. Maybe this is also because Miles is good company, and that Mason is such a witty writer. All in all, this was a great read, and a new author for that must-read list. Country People is a five-star read from me.

Book Review: My Father’s House by Joseph O’Connor – terror and courage in German occupied Rome

~ Judith ~ 3 Comments

My Father’s House has been on my radar since it was short-listed for the Walter Scott Prize. With a second book in the trilogy already out (The Ghosts of Rome) and the third (The City of Echoes) due early next year, it was high time to pick it up. I was fascinated by the story of the daring escapades of the Escape Line, the underground network of unlikely comrades, knowns as The Choir, who worked to get Allied escaped prisoners, diplomats and refugees out of Rome during the German occupation. But also just as interesting were the characters of those involved, in particular, the Vatican priest who led their mission.

The occupation began in September of 1943 led by Gestapo chief, Obersturmbannfüher Paul Hauptmann, who is under pressure from Himmler to get results. It doesn’t take long for him to notice that one particular priest, Hugh O’Flaherty, gets about a lot and has some interesting friends. Among them singer and the Irish diplomat Delia Kiernan, Jo Landini a countess, and Sir D’Arcy Osborne, a British envoy to the Vatican. It’s fascinating that the Vatican City was a safe haven, a tiny, neutral and independent state within Rome. This made it a kind of bolt-hole when a bombed and terrorised Rome became unsafe for so many escapees.

The book opens with Delia driving through the night to get one of The Choir, Major Sam Derry, to hospital when he falls dangerously ill with appendicitis. He’s dressed in a Nazi uniform, the car is struggling and there’s a curfew on. So plenty to ramp up the tension. Derry is an important cog in the wheel of their work, as an important mission looms – the Rendimento. Money accumulated by the group needs to be dispersed among the safe houses around Rome to get the escapees out before an expected clamp-down by Hauptmann in the new year. Dated for Christmas Eve, there’s an expectation that German forces will be a little thin on the ground, so a good time for the plan.

Presently Ugo would call the group to order and play the keynote on a harmonica. As the singing began, which usually happened ten or fifteen minutes after the last of us had arrived, sometimes white-faced and breathless, up the haunted steps, his practice was to systematically make his way around the table, from one of us to another, talking in whispers or showing scribbled notes on lavatory paper, which he would tear up and burn in the stove when we had memorised them. Rome was of course a nest of spies in those months; Hauptmann’s Gestapo had planted microphones widely. It was common knowledge that they had taken over the telephone exchange, that every operator was now an SS agent, every call monitored, every meeting of more than six people covertly photographed. A secured radio transmitter at Nazi Headquarters in the fashionable hotel neighbourhood had a direct channel to Hitler’s lair, the Berghof at Obersalszberg.

With Derry ill, Hugh is anxious to find a replacement for the Rendimento, and this becomes a part of the plot, leading up to the night itself. But the story is told in an unusual way, swapping between the characters of The Choir and even a bit with Hauptmann himself. Some of these appear as transcripts from BBC interviews, parts of a memoir, as well as regular narrative. It keeps things interesting and also gives insight into the lives and characters of the key players.

I also really enjoyed the dialogue. Hugh, a big-hearted man, can be blunt and witty, Delia has the charm of the Irish, D’Arcy the languid insolence of someone of his class. Then there’s the Italian candle-seller, Enzo Angelucci, who knows Rome as well as anybody and has the passion of a man whose city is under siege. Hauptmann himself is well-imagined – a ruthless narcissist – but with an ability to shake off the horrors of his day by vanishing to his bolt-hole, a lakeside house in woodland, dreaming of catching his priest.

While Joseph O’Connor admits in his author’s note that this is a novel and that he has fictionalised much of what happens to suit the story, you can tell he’s done a heap of research and knows his subject well. You get an authentic feel of what Rome was like, its cobbled streets and dark alleyways, the bomb craters and riverside. While we get a satisfying ending – a glimpse of The Choir two decades later with a This Is Your Life TV episode – there’s still a way to go with the war. So plenty more work for the Escape Line. I will very much look forward to the next two books.

My Father’s House handily suited one of the tasks in the 52 Book Club challenge – a book “inspired by the top-grossing movie the year you were born”. For me this was Spartacus (yes, I know that’s a long time ago), similarly set in Rome and also with rebels and fugitives. The book was the perfect choice for me – and a terrific five-star read.

The Eights by Joanna Miller – a immersive story of female friendship at an Oxford college in the 1920s

~ Judith ~ 3 Comments

Debut novelist Joanna Miller recreates the struggles of women to be taken seriously at Oxford in the post-WWI era. At the time, the women’s suffrage movement had won the vote for British women over 30, with some provisos. You would think a university like Oxford would be at the forefront of social movements and ideas, but sadly this is not the case for the young women at the heart of The Eights. While some professors were happy to have women in their classes, others point blank refused, or were deliberately obstructive.

The book follows four female students over the course of their first academic year. Dora, Beatrice, Otto (Ottoline) and Marianne have little in common, apart from the fact that at St Hughs, their rooms are on Corridor Eight. This is what makes the book interesting as each of them has come to study from completely different backgrounds. And that this is the first year that women can be conferred degrees at Oxford. Before that, while they were allowed to study, no degrees were awarded when they finished the same courses as men.

It’s 1920, Britain is still reeling from the war, and young, eligible men are in short supply. Which is the only reason Dora’s mother thought Oxford a good idea. Here at least there are plenty of young men and very few women. She just wants to see Dora married off to someone suitable. Dora is however grieving for her lost love, Charles, and for her brother, both lost to the trenches.

Dora’s mother is not the most sympathetic, but not as bad as Otto’s mother who doesn’t care for her daughter a bit. Otto is the oldest of the four students, comes from wealth, runs with a rather fast set, drinks a lot and is in no hurry to marry. She’s also brilliant at mathematics. Beatrice, also super bright, has mother problems too. Her mother is famous suffragette, still furiously campaigning for women’s rights and good on her for that. But poor Beatrice, tall and ungainly, struggles to win any maternal feelings from her.

Marianne has no mother at all, and has come on a scholarship. She disappears odd weekends to help her widowed, clergyman father, she says, but the reader soon knows she’s hiding a secret. We don’t find out what that is until the end of the book, but other secrets bubble to the surface for all of them, one way and another. Meanwhile there are endless rules, tests and exams and even bells. Discipline is rigid, while the young male students seem to get up to all sorts of hijinks, and drinking, seriously a no-no for the girls, is quite the done thing for the lads.

She is aware she looks ridiculous in her academic dress. Which genius decided that women should wear the floppy cap sported by students four hundred years ago? It is impossibly itchy. She has tried a jaunty angle, pulling it down around her ears or wearing it at the back of her head. Nothing works. Oddly enough Marianne, long-necked like a goose, looks as if she was born wearing one. The last few days have revealed that Marianne exhibits both empathy and a dry wit, a surprisingly appealing combination to Otto, but today Marianne seems anxious again, wringing her hands until her knuckles glow like pearls.
‘It’s just a talk, we’re not going down with the Titanic,’ Otto whispers in her ear.

Each character is nicely developed and faces her own challenges, disappointments and triumphs. They learn more than what’s on their syllabuses and the story nicely ambles along. Miller has done a lot of research and recreates the geography of Oxford with care, also peppering the book with snippets of news articles, notices and rules from the time, which give the book a nice authentic feel. While there’s some romance, it isn’t the main part of the story, which is as it should be. Our characters didn’t come to Oxford to get married off in their first year.

I found The Eights is a charming, entertaining and at times moving story and the pages whipped by. I’d be happy to find out what happens to Dora, Marianne, Beatrice and Otto next – I do hope they finish their degrees and go on to do wonderful things. Altogether this is a brilliant debut, and a four-star read from me.

Book Review: The Newer World by Sebastian Barry – life beyond the American Civil War for a man born into slavery

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

Sebastian Barry is one of those writers who can create such perfect sentences you pause in your need to find out what happens next just to enjoy them again. So I was happy to throw my hat in the ring for his new book, The Newer World, when it was offered on Netgalley.

The story kind of follows on from Barry’s earlier books set in America around the time of the Civil War (Days Without End and A Thousand Moons). Characters from those books cross paths with our main character in this one – Tennyson Bouguereau, a man born into slavery. We’re in rural Tennessee, where Tennyson grows up with his twin sister Rosalee, losing his parents in one act of brutality after another. The Civil War and the end of slavery brings hope of freedom, but there are many in the area who supported the Confederate cause and don’t see the freed slaves as anymore deserving of a decent life than before.

The farm where Tennyson and Rosalee work is owned by the Magan family, who only just make a living from their land. But at least they are more kindly than other landowners. Luther Magan even allows the children to be educated and passes on a patch of land to the twins when he dies. His son Elija (Lige) however signs up for the Union during the war, which marks the Magans out among their neighbours. The war seems to bring out the worst in them, and when Tennyson defends the Magans property and his new friends (Lige has opened his home to Cole, McNulty and Winona, from the earlier books), he must leave abruptly, or risk being lynched.

So begins a tale of new beginnings and abrupt departures as Tennyson attempts to make a life for himself. A sympathetic lawyer named Briscoe helps him on his way and Tennyson makes the journey to Nashville where his singing voice lands him an opportunity to join a touring choir. A new friend, George, helps him adapt to his new life. As a reader you realise how basic a slave’s life could be as Tennyson learns about cleanliness and to dress in a suit, his old rags thrown away.

Still, it seems that whatever Tennyson learns and however much he adapts, freedom doesn’t equal acceptance in a white dominated society, and danger and injustice hover around him. But you can’t help feeling hopeful, particularly when he falls in love and is appreciated for his singing voice. Nothing is plain sailing, though, and Tennyson must make a terrible choice, between love and the obligations of friendship.

Barry does an amazing job of recreating the period and the people, his main character feels truly authentic and his struggles really tug on your heart. He’s also a witness to an America putting its colonial stamp on its land which is truly illuminating. For all he endures, he’s a survivor and by the end of the book, you can’t help but feel that there might be another story for Tennyson, and another book. I’d certainly be keen to see how his story continues. Another masterly work from Sebastian Barry, The Newer World is a five-star read from me.

The Newer World can certainly be read as a stand-alone novel and is due for publication on 10 September. With thanks to Netgalley and Faber & Faber, in return for an honest review.

Book Review: The Cromarty Library Circle by Shona MacLean – a novel about life in a Scottish town on the brink of change

~ Judith ~ 4 Comments

This book could almost be titled Love in the Time of Cholera, or possibly The Book Group if those titles hadn’t already been taken. The Cromarty Library Circle takes us to 1830 and a small coastal town in the north of Scotland, where a group of its more genteel citizens decide to start a small library, a kind of book group where each member chooses a book. These are purchased, read and passed on to the next in the circle, which also meets regularly to discuss them.

I must say I quite like the idea of this kind of book group. The circle includes the minister, Alasdair Mackay and his younger wife Rachel; the local gentry, Sir William Mackenzie, also with a younger wife, Charlotte, who is a friend of Rachel’s. There’s Janet Cameron, the hotelkeeper, and her bank-teller son Ludovic, and the spinster sisters Elspeth and Anna Rose. There’s a quaint old antiquarian and a young romantic-minded schoolteacher. The Hossacks, representing new money, are the owners of the rope works.

The story follows the problematic marriages of the Mackays, which is mostly happy, and the Mackenzies, which isn’t. We’ve got the predatory Farquhar Hossack, a thorough ne’er do well, and also medical student, making life uncomfortable for Ludovic, whom he’s bullied since childhood, and Ludovic’s sister, a young black girl brought back from a sugar plantation by Sir William. In the background, an abolitionist bill is slowly making its way through parliament, and this drives some dire predictions around future prosperity by those who have made their fortunes on the back of slavery.

Ludovic is friends with John, the schoolteacher, and Stanislaus, the clockmaker’s apprentice. Stan’s a refugee from Poland following the Russian quashing of an uprising, a former count now making his home in Cromarty. I enjoyed their discussions about the wider world – Ludovic dreaming of America, Stan dreaming of home, while John mostly seems to dream about the fine-looking ladies of the library circle.

‘But why are you not there?’
Despite the young man’s great intelligence, James often had to remind himself that Stanislas had much to learn about life in a Scottish town. He laughed. ‘Me? Because I am neither great nor good. And there are amongst the chosen ones a goodly few whose memories stretch back forty years and are not inclined to forgive what they have been so careful not to forget.’ What they would neither forgive nor forget was James’s youthful enthusiasm for the French and their revolution that had, in his younger days, drawn him to Paris itself.
‘But you have read more than those people. You have read more than anyone in this town.’
James took out his eyeglass and pointed it at Stanislas. ‘Not quite, Stan. Miller, the stonemason, has read more than anyone else in this town, and I can assure you, they haven’t invited him to join their number either.

The story is charming in its portrayal of these characters, all brought to life in a believable way, with their worries and foibles. But the issue of wealth from plantations worked by slaves casts a dark shadow. Also in the background there’s the emigration ships, preparing to take people to Canada and beyond. These are people who have lost their crofts due to the land enclosures – sheep replacing small-scale farming. Also in the harbour are the quarantine ships – an attempt to stem the spread of cholera which has been slowly creeping up the British Isles.

I loved these characters, their stories each coming to dramatic points throughout the book in a more than satisfying way. The stranglehold on people’s lives by duty and a strict social hierarchy, which I kind of expected. And also the power of the minister and his barbed comments about behaviour from the pulpit, which I hadn’t. But I’m also impressed by MacLean’s dept of research into the politics and concerns of the time which adds depth to the novel and creates an interesting world.

There is both joy and sadness in the story, and the feeling that while our characters have been through a lot by the end of the book, they have much more to face. But perhaps they are finally strong enough to weather the storms coming. The Cromarty Library Circle is a terrific historical novel and a five star read from me.