Tag: family secrets

Book Review: Guilty by Definition by Susie Dent – an enthralling mystery for word lovers

~ Judith ~ 1 Comment

How to head up a book’s chapters is a big decision for any fiction author. Do you give them enticing titles or apposite quotes, or just leave them numbered? Susie Dent begins each of the chapters in Guilty by Definition with an interesting word and a dictionary-style description. Some are really old, like “mathom, noun (Old English): a precious thing; a valuable gift”; others more recent, like the verb “broggle (seventeenth century): to poke with a pointed instrument”; and there’s one or two that are quite new, like “zugzwang, (twentieth century): the obligation to make a move, but every move is detrimental”.

The main characters in the novel are lexicographers, editors for the Clarendon English Dictionary, so words are their thing. Not just words and their meanings, but their history, their earliest known usage and how they have changed over time. This alone would have been quite interesting as the characters are all engaging, have secrets and things happening in their personal lives. The team of four are headed by Martha, whose sister Charlie was a PhD student who went missing a decade before. Martha had escaped to Germany for a decade and hasn’t been long home, slotting back into the house she grew up in with her widowed father.

She’d known there would be ghosts in Oxford. Martha wasn’t afraid of any headless horsemen, or nuns haunting the local ruins; it was Charlie, always Charlie she was afraid would find her. There had been times in the first year after her sister’s disappearance when Martha’s heart would stop as she spotted her through the crowd: the long blonde hair, the shapeless cardigan draped over a thin cotton dress. She’d hear a laugh, throaty and sudden, or catch a movement, a walk, a twist in the shoulders, and she’d be certain. Just for a moment. Then the illusion would shatter and the person she knew to be her sister would resolve into a stranger.

Also working at Clarendon we have Alex, a stylish older woman with a penchant for nice things; Safiya, a lively young woman who shares a flat with others her age; and Simon, who misses family life since his divorce. Their boss is Jonathan, a Shakespearean expert who is television’s go-to commentator for all things to do with the bard. He has good looks and charm in spades, perfect for the media.

They’re all just puddling along, lost in the rarified world of words, when a cryptic letter, penned by someone calling themselves Chorus, has them reaching for their pencils to decipher its clues. The letter starts them off on a quest to investigate Charlie’s disappearance, something Martha feels very sensitive about, as you might expect. Charlie was the golden girl of the family, and with Martha’s mother now dead, her father is still apparently grieving all this time later.

Then there are the postcards. This Chorus seems to be sending them not just to the core group at Clarendon, but other witnesses they visit to ask about Charlie. Seemingly quotations from Shakespeare, some of them verge on “poison pen”. There are more letters, and some wonderful scenes as Martha and co. delve into archives, visit old acquaintances, and uncover some disturbing facts about Charlie. We see Oxford in all its glory – old ruins and scholarly institutions, May Day celebrations, cafés and watering holes, leafy parks ideal for cycling. I was often googling as I read for images so I could imagine the settings all the better.

It all adds up to a wonderful read, erudite and witty, but not without its darker moments, as you’d expect of a good whodunit. Which this is. If you love cryptic crosswords, this will be a delight, but there’s still plenty to enjoy without trying to figure out the clues. I am thrilled to see that Martha will be back next year in another mystery in the series – Death Writ Large, out next March. Guilty by Definition is a four-and-a-half star read from me.

Book Review: Would You Rather by Maggie Alderson – a beach read about a grieving widow with a grievance

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

I picked up this book for a light holiday read, intrigued about the story of a woman coping with loss and redefining her life in order to move on. In this case, we’ve got Sophie who has two terrible things happen to her in one day. First Matt, her husband of thirty years, tells her he’s not going to move house with her after all, but stay on in London with his mistress. She’ll be off to their new house in Hastings on her own! And then Matt gets hit by a truck while riding his bicycle and killed.

Suddenly Sophie is an angry wronged wife and a grieving widow all at once. Thank goodness she has the support of her friend Rey, who helps her adjust to her new life, and she soon makes friends with her new neighbours: Agata in her nineties and Olive who calls a spade a spade, both of them widows too. Also among the huge cast of characters are Sophie’s sons, Jack who lives in Australia and Beau, the spitting image of his dad and just as big a hit with the ladies. Beau has also inherited his father’s talent as an artist, making his own brand of jewellery and working as a waiter to pay the bills.

Would You Rather follows Sophie’s story as she gets on with life, her work as a food stylist, and the questions she suppresses about the ‘other woman’. We also follow Beau who has overheard something at the funeral which has him digging into his father’s past. When he gets a rude awakening from girls he’s treated badly, he’s also on a learning curve. Then there’s Juliet, the mistress, a successful jewellery designer. She’s mother of little Cassady when we meet her, and is determined to live life according to her own terms.

Sophie saw her the moment she lifted her eyes from the eulogy to look at the congregation.
Standing at the back of the packed venue, looking straight at her, was a woman about twenty years or so younger than her, not particularly striking, yet Sophie knew exactly who she was. Juliet.
Or Gillette, as Sophie thought of her. She’d certainly cut her like a razor. Slashed everything Sophie had thought she’d known about her life into ribbons.

These stories are all set to intersect in a fairly predictable way, although the characters have so much going on in their lives there’s lots to keep the reader interested. Sophie decides to keep Matt’s devastating decision to herself, which is difficult when his brothers and their wives are still a part of her world. There were five Crommelin brothers, all it seems larger than life and in their own way full of charm.

The story carries the reader through the dilemmas faced by its three main characters with lots of colour thanks to its attractive settings: seaside Hastings and elegant parts of London with its art auctions, jewellery stores and fabulous parties. I must say I got a little sick of all the parties. There’s plenty of wine and descriptions of sumptuous food too as you might expect with several characters who are terrific cooks and another who is a winemaker.

I did feel sorry for Sophie though. How is someone supposed to grieve or turn their life around when having to keep their chin up at parties? While there were plenty of lessons learnt and positive hopes for fresh starts, ultimately I couldn’t help finding these characters, with the descriptions of their lavish homes and lifestyles, all a little bit shallow. So while I am often up for a feel-good, second-chances story, this novel was disappointing. I’m still not sure why the book is called Would You Rather, but it’s a two-and-a-half star read from me.

Book Review: The Life Cycle of the Common Octopus by Emma Knight – an perceptive coming-of-age novel set in Edinburgh

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

I had no idea what to expect from this novel. Neither the title nor the cover gives a lot away, but I was soon caught up in the story of a young girl embarking on student life in Edinburgh. Pen and bestie Alice are from Toronto, and although neither wish to cramp the other’s style, they are there for each other as each explores opportunities as first year students together. They become friends with Jo, whose family have a country house they can decamp to, and whose brother, Fergus is soon attracted to Pen. All three girls, particularly Alice, are gorgeous in their own way.

Alice wants student life to be about experiences as much as study. She’s also hoping to land a role in a play and then, if that goes well, a part in an Edinburgh Festival production. She’s larger than life, a bit of a party animal and open to a dalliance with a lecturer – just another box to tick off. Pen, on the other hand, is quieter, more studious and intellectual. Studying in Edinburgh gives her a chance to connect with an old friend of her father’s, a famous author of mystery novels, Lord Elliot Lennox.

Pen wants to be a journalist, so talking to a writer makes sense. But she’s also digging around for reasons behind her parents’ divorce. Why did her father fall out with his best friend, a friend remembered with her middle name? Was there something between him and Lennox’s wife, Christina? Pen writes to Lennox asking to visit him in his stately home, and finds herself welcomed into the family by his wife Christina. She strikes up a friendship with George, a niece with a young baby, and is soon smitten by older son Sasha. But often while she’s there, Elliot Lennox stays in his study, only surfacing for meals.

She and Pen had been friends since well before they had discovered the need to construct an outer shell, like that of an invertebrate animal, to protect the soft inner substance of the self. Childhood friendships often lose their hold at that point, when one sees that the person one loved has learned to disguise herself and will no longer be reachable, or at least not often. What made Alice feel certain, as Pen helped herself to the roll of toilet paper on her desk to wipe her nose, that this friendship could take them through every stage of their lives, cushioning them against the bone-crushing loneliness of being human, was that they did not have to pretend with each other. Silently, she vowed to remember this.

So we have a couple of story threads: Pen’s student life on campus and her growing interest in Elliot Lennox and his family. There’s also her own family issues, too, and secrets from the past. The writing is nicely turned, and thoughtful. But Pen is an introspective sort, so we get a lot of introspection. Lots of Pen making herself miserable about the Lennox family, and what they all think of her, and about Sasha in particular. Just as well Alice is busy getting into strife and dealing with the fallout. This helps give the plot a bit of action.

Emma Knight is insightful on student life, that age when there’s so much to explore and experiment with. Both girls get things wrong, and help each other to move on. But there’s also an underlying thread about parenthood, particularly the demands on mothers, the difficulty of being your true self when there are others depending on you. Christina is a case in point, running a huge estate and keeping everything ticking over so her husband can write books. And she’s a mother on top of that. Which is where the octopus analogy comes in, in case you’re wondering.

This is a book you have to be patient with, it nearly lost me about half way through, but enough happened to keep me curious – particularly about what happened all those years ago and with whom. And the honed writing helps too. I wish I had been at eighteen as clever as Pen with the smart delivery of opinions, which even sparks Elliot Lennox’s approval. But it does make for a somewhat wordy novel, at times. I think Emma Knight is an author to watch, though, and will happily seek out her next book.

I read an advanced reading copy of The Life Cycle of the Common Octopus, courtesy of Netgalley. The book is due for release in bookshops on 10 April and it is a three-and-a-half-star read from me.

Book Review: Three Days in June by Anne Tyler – a charming novella about marriage, laced with humour and insight

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

If I had to choose a favourite author, (heavens, what a decision!), Anne Tyler would definitely be on my shortlist. I’ve been reading and rereading her for decades. So picking up her latest book, Three Days in June, I was instantly in my happy place, absorbed in a seemingly ordinary story about ordinary people, and which was unsurprisingly fascinating.

This time we’ve got Gail, who is sixty-one, an assistant school principal who’s about to lose her job. So she’s not happy about that. She leaves work in a huff and then finds her ex-husband, Max, on the doorstep with a cat from the shelter he helps out at. Max is visiting for their daughter’s wedding the following day, but can’t stay with Debbie because her fiancé Kenneth is allergic to cats. Gail isn’t happy about this sudden imposition either, and no way is she about to adopt a cat. No, thank you!

The cat soon settles in, and so does Max, and the former couple get caught up in the wedding arrangements – the wedding rehearsal, shopping for clothes and so on. But the hint of an indiscretion on Kenneth’s part has Gail worried that Debbie is making a huge mistake. She should know. The story flips back in time to the events that eventually led to Gail’s and Max’s divorce.

The clock gathered itself together with a whirring of gears and struck a series of blurry notes. Nine o’clock, I was thinking; but no, it turned out to be ten. I’d been sitting there in a sort of stupor, evidently. I stood up and hung my purse in the closet, but then outside the window I saw some movement on the other side of the curtain, some dark and ponderous shape laboring up my front walk. I tweaked the curtain aside half an inch. Max, for God’s sake. Max with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, and a bulky square suitcase dangling from his left hand.

Anne Tyler packs a lot into this little book. We get a good deal of character development and insight into the family. There’s the usual gentle humour, which is always a plus, and the characters are wonderful. I instantly warmed to Max, also a teacher, working in a school where he doesn’t earn a lot and rents the same flat he’s lived in for years. He’s a scruffy, gentle bear of a man who doesn’t get in a flap. Early on you feel he’s a good fit for Gail, who’s a bit uptight and pernickety and not so good with people.

There’s also Debbie, a lively, determined kind of girl who doesn’t shirk from speaking her mind. There’s also Gail’s mother, who’s rather amusing in her little digs at her daughter, plus the well-to-do and at times hoity-toity in-laws. The way the different family members bounce off each other is very realistic but also delightfully entertaining.

Three Days in June is classic Anne Tyler – a lovely, warm-hearted read that charms from the first page to the last. I couldn’t help thinking it would make a nice little film, a cut above many wedding movies, that’s for sure. If you’re feeling in the mood for an uplifting read it’s well worth picking up. And check out Tyler’s backlist – she’s had a host of book award nominations, winning a Pulitzer for Breathing Lessons. Three Days in June is a four star read from me.

Book Review: The Bee Sting by Paul Murray – a riveting novel about a family in strife

~ Judith ~ 2 Comments

This is a superbly clever book that seemed to me particularly clever in that its cleverness isn’t at first all that obvious. One thing obvious about The Bee Sting is that it is very long. I don’t often go for long books. They have to have instant readability for me to want to persevere, because of the reading time involved. But once I embarked on this story of a family going through a tough time in small-town Ireland, I just couldn’t stop, because the writing is just so lively, character-driven and, at times, funny.

The story moves between the four points of view of Cass and PJ, teenage children of Dickie and Imelda. Dickie has taken on the family business built up by his father, a car dealership that has, until the recent economic downturn, been a reliable money maker. So much so that the family are among the most well-to-do around town. But now times are tough and Dickie doesn’t know how to fix it. Instead he’s spending his days in the woods with his weird mate Victor, building a bunker in case of an apocalypse.

Dickie was always the smarter son, but less successful with people than his famous footy-playing brother Frank. Everyone remembers Frank, not just for his flair on the sports field, but because of his charm and good-looks. His sudden death a couple of decades before in a car accident only made him seem more of a hero. At the time he was all set to marry Imelda. Dickie with his lack of social finesse and looks that were nothing to write home about seemed like a consolation prize.

Over the course of the book, we discover how Imelda came to marry Dickie instead, as well as both their back stories, Imelda’s coming from a family of ne’er do wells, a violent father with criminal tendencies. Imelda is astonishingly beautiful, which is how she caught Frank’s eye. Marrying Dickie so young and having children soon after, she’s never had a job, but is a brilliant shopper. As money troubles start to bite, she’s in a permanent fury, cross with Dickie and selling off anything she can online to keep at least some money coming in.

Meanwhile Cass has reached that age when everything – her family and life in a town where everyone knows everyone’s business – has become utterly impossible. With her best friend Elaine, she’s plotting to leave as soon as she can. Trinity College in Dublin beckons, but can she keep her studies up enough to pass her A levels when Elaine hauls her off to all kinds of pubs and clubs while they should be studying?

Most days they went to Elaine’s after school, but sometimes, for a change of scene, Elaine would want to come to Cass’s instead. She liked to hang out in the kitchen talking to Imelda – that’s what she called Cass’s mother, ‘Imelda’, so casually and naturally that after a while Cass started doing it too. You are so working those jeggings, Imelda, she’d say. Oh, you think so? Cass’s mam/‘Imelda’ would say, and she’d lean over with impossible willow-like grace to examine the back of her own thighs. I wasn’t sure about the stripes. The stripes are what make it, Elaine would say conclusively, and Imelda would look happy.

Cass’s mother was a famous beauty. She too had blonde hair and green eyes. It’s so weird that she’s your mam, Elaine said. Doesn’t it make more sense that I should be her daughter?

PJ is also having a tough time. His parents aren’t there for him, Cass is eternally cross with him and he’s not socially adept either, parroting facts he’s discovered supplied by his active and curious brain. With the failing of his father’s business, all the town knows about it so school can be hard. He loses himself in violent computer games, leading him to an online friendship. But is that new friend as genuine as he pretends to be?

I hadn’t expected to care for these four characters as much as I did. But Paul Murray takes you right inside their heads, revealing their secrets. In the background we’ve got a support cast of interesting support characters, among them dodgy opportunist Big Mike, Imelda’s great aunt Rose who can see the future, and Ryszard, the handsome charmer and baddie of the story.

While the novel carries you along entertainingly enough, there is a clever plotting that takes the book to the next level. There are very long chapters that build things up, and then very short ones that ramp up the tension. There’s clever stuff with the prose too, the personalities of the main characters reflected in the style. Imelda’s point of view, for instance, is written without punctuation, perhaps an echo of her fierce and furious way of thinking and speaking. There are no quotation marks for speech either, but somehow you soon get used to it and wonder, why do we ever have them in the first place?

Then there’s the ending. I wasn’t going to mention that as I’m still thinking about it, but WOW. Enough said. I’m certainly glad to have read The Bee Sting, even if it was very long, and yes, I’ll look out for more books by Paul Murray, for the writing alone. The Bee Sting is five star read from me.

Book Review: Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout – a welcome return to the world of Bob Burgess

~ Judith ~ 6 Comments

The Burgess Boys was the first novel by Elizabeth Strout I ever read. I was soon a fan of Strout’s particular way of storytelling, never missing a book since and catching up with Olive Kitteridge, Lucy Barton and co, the small towns of Amgash Illinois, or as with this book, Crosby, Maine.

But I never forgot the wonderful character of Bob Burgess, the self-deprecating legal-aid lawyer, working the cases that don’t bring in a fat pay-cheque. He’s got plenty of history with his well-to-do, more confident brother, Jim – another lawyer and winner of a famous case people still talk about.

In Tell Me Everything, we catch up with Bob, who in the previous Lucy Barton book (Lucy by the Sea) has become Lucy’s friend. They take walks most days together, Bob having a furtive cigarette. Our other Elizabeth Strout character of note, Olive Kitteridge also enters the plot, having a story she wants to share with Lucy. Bob brings Lucy to visit the elderly Olive in her care facility, and Olive immediately detects that Bob is in love with Lucy. This is awkward, as Bob is married to Margaret, a church minister, and Lucy has settled in Crosby with her ex-husband William.

Lucy is a famous author, though a quietly unassuming one. Olive finds her a bit mousey but the two soon get along well, sharing stories of ordinary folk. They’re often rather sad stories, but the two feel they are worthy of sharing, as being otherwise undocumented lives. I feel this is Elizabeth Strout’s goal too – to write about ordinary folk, their burdens and their hopes, their failures and secrets, as well as the talents they don’t know they have. Some are more ordinary than others.

When elderly Gloria Beach goes missing from Shirley Falls, suspicion lands on her son Matthew, a strange, shy, reclusive man who has always lived with his mother. Bob finds himself reluctantly agreeing to defend Matthew against what seems to be an imminent charge of murder. Again, what is on the surface hides a grim set of family secrets, “lives of quiet desperation” indeed. So Bob has a lot going on with the legal case and his feelings for Lucy. A terrible illness in his brother’s family throws more light onto his relationship with Jim and events from the past.

Forty-five minutes away on the same morning that Susan was reading about Gloria Beach in the Shirley Falls newspaper, here, in the smaller town of Crosby, Bob was having a cigarette. It was a windy day with muted sunlight that was trying to press through the cloud covering, and Bob was standing beside his car in the back parking lot of that same old inn that had gone bankrupt and had vines growing over its windows. Last night his wife had sniffed his shoulder and said, “Bob? Don’t tell me you’re doing that again. Please don’t tell me you are smoking again.”
And he had lied!
He had lied.
Now Bob thought, Keep moving, so that the smoke wouldn’t stick to him, although the wind seemed to twirl itself around and not go in one direction. As he took a step forward, his phone in his pocket started to ring and he stepped right into the smoke he had just exhaled, and he thought, You idiot. Meaning himself.

Poor old Bob. He’s such a nice guy but gets caught up in everyone else’s troubles. He’s what Lucy calls a “sin-eater” – he seems more ministerial than his wife, Margaret, who he’s beginning to have some doubts about. On top of everything else, Margaret is having a difficult time with a partitioner.

I rattled through Tell Me Everything, particularly interested in the murder case and wanting to find out what had happened. But there’s nothing sensational here, it’s all very much like real life, another tragedy in an already tragic family. How Bob spots what happened and deals with it reveals an astuteness that is easily hidden within his seeming ordinariness.

Tell Me Everything is another terrific addition to the canon of novels about characters I have come to care about. They’re so realistic with their good points and bad, but Olive, Lucy and Bob are all people who take an interest in the lives of others, even people they hardly know. The stories of these people that come to the surface are often somewhat bleak, heartbreaking even, but they’re nonetheless fascinating. Tell Me Everything‘s a four-and-a-half-star read from me.

Book Review: The Twins by L V Matthews – a twisty psychological thriller with dark family secrets

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

This novel is the sort of psychological thriller that has you hooked from the beginning. Yes, it’s about twins, and I know there have been so many stories about twins, you often feel you’ve heard them all before. But that didn’t stop me picking this one up and getting immersed in the story of Margot and Cora.

For twins, the two couldn’t be more different. Margot is quiet and responsible, a dedicated nanny to a well-to-do London family. She has a comfortable life and makes sure everything is as it should be for her young charges. It’s a twenty-four seven kind of gig, but you get the feeling Margot is creating a warm and loving environment because that seems to have been absent in her own childhood.

Cora on the other hand lives in a cramped flat across town with a flatmate, and the two are complete hedonists, living on the edge, while Cora will stop at nothing to get that big break as dancer. She’s confident, a bit crass, breezy and somewhat heartless. Glimpses of her at school, a decade before, reveal she’d been in with the in-crowd, while Margot lingered in the background, friendless and the butt of jokes.

The Twins begins with a mishap during a family holiday on a yacht which sees Margot lose the medication that keeps her anxiety at bay, and slowly memories start to creep back. These are events from her late teens, when something terrible happened involving the death of the twins’ younger sister Annie. Desperate to know more, Margot toys with the idea of seeing a therapist, an idea that Cora vehemently opposes. What is the secret that Cora wants to keep from Margot?

…I then look at the sea out of the porthole, exhale, and tell myself that I’m safe here. Looking after people is what I’m good at: routine and order and consideration. There is no need to feel anxious.
‘Margot?’ someone calls from above. ‘Can you bring up the oysters?’
‘Absolutely.’
I busy myself with tending to others. People don’t realise you’re not talking to them about your own life if you’re putting food on their tables, if you’re doing their laundry, if you’re smiling at their stories. I like living their lives because it’s easier than living my own.
My life has ghosts.

The story flips between the two sisters as we watch Margot attempt to reclaim the past, questioning her grandmother, in a care-home, her own memory now patchy. She trawls the internet to find the one person who might help her – Cora’s high-school boyfriend and Margot’s secret crush. Meanwhile Cora trains for a role in a dance performance that echoes parts of their story.

As more and more shadowy secrets rise to the forefront of Margot’s mind, you can’t help but feel for her and worry that when she finds out the truth it will be worse than not-knowing. She’s a much more sympathetic character than Cora, who seems like the dark to Margot’s light. Besides which, Margot’s grip on her life seems more and more rickety. This really racks up the tension.

Altogether, this is a nicely escapist read that keeps you hooked. However there was one point at which I wanted to throw the book across the room – a twist that I wasn’t expecting, not at all. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to finish the book after that. But I’m glad I did. It all comes together quite well and it makes the book seem rather more psychologically interesting than it might have been.

So if you like a good twisty, suspenseful read, this one’s worth persevering with, even if it is about twins. There is a really nasty character who makes a good villain; and the story plays with the fickleness of memory and the effects of trauma to create an interesting psychological situation. The plot really keeps you on your toes as a reader, so The Twins definitely does the job. A four-star read from me.

Book Review: The Mischief Makers by Elisabeth Gifford – an imagining of the life and creativity of Daphne du Maurier

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

As a girl, I remember being given a number of Daphne du Maurier’s books and enjoying them immensely – particularly Rebecca and The Scapegoat. There were adaptations of her novels and stories that appeared on TV – I’ve seen several versions of Rebecca, and then there was Hitchcock’s The Birds. I read her darker, spookier short stories too. She always struck me as a master storyteller and remarkably original for her time.

Elisabeth Gifford explores what made du Maurier tick in her new novel The Mischief Makers – how she got her inspiration as well as her family life, before and after marriage. It also describes the encouragement she got from J M Barrie, her Uncle Jim, the author of Peter Pan and guardian to her five cousins, the Llewelyn Davies boys.

I’m not sure how Elisabeth Gifford managed to write such a nicely concise and well put together story because there must have been such a lot left on the cutting room floor. The du Mauriers and J M Barrie are all such fascinating people. As a young girl Daphne was often at the theatre, her father, Gerald du Maurier, one of the outstanding theatre actors of his time. It was during a run of Barrie’s The Admirable Crichton that her parents had met, her mother starring opposite Gerald. Daphne’s grandfather was the author of Trilby and creator of the character Svengali, the evil mesmerist whose name lives on.

But one by one they have grown too old for tales of Peter Pan. Now Uncle Jim can also be found sitting with Daphne and Angela in the nursery, perched like a crumpled bird on the fender, mesmerising them with secret islands, prompting them as they swoop from chair to chair or swim like mermaids across the carpet. All night long Daphne continues to swim and fly through the night in her sleep. And it becomes clear to her that she has a secret only Jim knows: she may look like her sisters but really she is one of the boy cousins whom she has long idolised, longed to be there with them when the stories were first told in Black Lake Woods. She is part of Jim’s little gang, living on the edge of magic and adventure. She is really a wild boy, dancing at the edge of Neverland, thumbing her nose at the rest of the dull old world.

Daphne married Major Frederick (Tommy) Browning, himself an interesting man, a career soldier who set up the first British Airborne Division that was instrumental in the defeat of Germany during WWII. Knighted for his war work, Daphne became known as Lady Browning, although the strain the war put on their marriage was one they struggled to recover from. And of course Daphne’s immersion into her work as a writer, her determination to live quietly in Cornwall, which at times cut herself off from her husband, even, at times, her children.

But it’s the stories of her cousins, the Davies boys, and their recollections of their guardian that is really interesting. Peter as an older man is constantly engrossed in letters and memorabilia, trying to make sense of his childhood, whether or not they were simply used by Barrie, and the tragic death of his brother Michael as a young man. Was Barrie somehow at fault?

Daphne sees similarities between Barrie and herself, as writers stepping into imaginary worlds, discovering their characters in the people they meet, as well as in themselves. She even seems to feel Rebecca watching her, a somewhat disturbing presence. This insight into the mind of Daphne the writer is illuminating and fascinating. You also get a strong sense of what people went through in the last century with two world wars, and the social changes that followed, as seen through Daphne’s eyes.

The Mischief Makers is quite a tour de force, a brilliant read, particularly for a life-long Daphne du Maurier fan like me. The writing is pared back and straight-forward, mostly written from inside Daphne’s head, but with some extra chapters slipped in from earlier family experiences, the results of Peter’s research. It all comes together to create an overall picture of a very complex woman and her world. I wonder if we’ll see the book among those long-listed for the Women’s Prize for Fiction this year. It’s a five-star read from me.

Book Review: The Family Remains by Lisa Jewell – a twisty, psychological thriller sequel that will have you hooked

~ Judith ~ Leave a comment

Lisa Jewell often explores dark family secrets in her psychological thrillers. This is never more so than in The Family Upstairs, the 2019 novel about the Lambs, a well-to-do family and the interlopers who make their home with them, upending their lives. Mrs Lamb has felt the need to do something useful with the Chelsea family’s wealth, and takes in the Thomsen’s, as well as a couple of homeless musicians. Their London riverside house is luxurious and roomy, but David Thomsen exploits the Lambs, and the children, Henry and Lucy Lamb; Phin and Clemency Thomsen, get caught up in a situation that ends in murder.

The sequel, The Family Remains picks up the story of the younger generation, having been reunited in the first book and who are now trying to each build a future. This includes Libby Jones, the daughter Lucy had as a teenager, brought up by adoptive parents and who inherited the house in Chelsea. But the shadows of what went before still linger and there’s a sense that Henry and Lucy in particular are still looking over their shoulders.

When a bag of bones is found by mudlarkers on the riverbank, DI Samuel Owusu traces them back to the old Lamb residence and all the things that Henry and Lucy hoped would be forgotten about forever may now come to light. But Henry and then Lucy are on a quest to find Phin, Libby’s father, supposedly working in a safari park in Botswana, but who has high-tailed it, for some reason, to Chicago.

So while Henry and Lucy are hunting down Phin, DI Owusu is trying to piece together the life of Birdie Dunlop-Evers, a former member of a pop-group, reported missing in the 1990s. The story also works in the story of Rachel, a jewellery designer, who is told at the start of the book of the death of her estranged husband. We’re well aware of the particularly nasty type of guy Michael was – we met him in the earlier book when he was married to Lucy.

Lucy is a lovely-looking woman. When I saw her last year for the first time since we were teenagers, I was taken aback by the loveliness of her. She has a face that tells stories, she looks all of her forty years, she barely grooms herself, she dresses like a bucket of rags, but somehow she still always looks lovelier than any other woman in the room. It’s something about the juxtaposition of her amber-hazel eyes with the dirty gold streaks in her hair, the weightlessness of her, the rich honey of her voice, the way she moves and holds herself and touches things and looks at you. My father looked like a pork pie on legs and my lucky sister snatched all her looks from our elegant half-Turkish mother.

Golly, there’s a lot going on here, so never before was there a better reason to read the earlier book before the sequel. But somehow it all makes sense, and even if it’s a while since you read The Family Upstairs, you never feel completely bamboozled. Yes, you will have questions, loose ends and half-forgotten pieces of the overall puzzle. But Lisa Jewell will have you hooked, never the less, as I was.

I steamed through this novel in a couple of days, desperate to know if things would work out all right in the end. There’s always the sense that even though Henry and Lucy and even perhaps Phin, have been driven to do desperate and even quite bad things, they were very damaged children. We still feel for them, as well as Rachel, getting caught up in a relationship with a monster. It’s a twisty, original psychological thriller and as such a compelling read, but it’s very empathetic too.

And the characters are just so interesting. DI Owusu is a really nice guy, thoughtful, intelligent and sympathetic, which helps balance out the potential darkness and selfishness of Henry. Rachel’s story takes us into a character who has lived for the moment when it comes to relationships and suddenly in her thirties, feels it’s time to make a commitment. If only she hadn’t settled on Michael. But it’s Lucy I really enjoyed the most – she is so fragile on the one hand and yet has had to be strong and think on her feet for her children.

It is probably the characters and their unique situation that prompted so much demand from readers for the sequel that Lisa Jewell hadn’t planned to write. Which is probably why her books are so good, so moreish. Whenever I feel like a book to unwind with, she’s a top choice. If only I could make them last a day or two longer. This one’s a four-star read from me.

Book Review: When We Were Orphans by Kazuo Ishiguro – an unsolved mystery and a journey back to pre-war Shanghai

~ Judith ~ 1 Comment

I’d had this book on my bookcase from a decade or two before, and thought I’d revisit it in audiobook form. But the writing was just so engaging, the narrative voice of the main character drawing me in, I got the paperback out after all, the better to absorb it all at my own pace.

When We Were Orphans begins with its main character, Christopher Banks, having recently moved to London after graduating from Cambridge, when he bumps into an old friend from school. Over the course of their conversation it emerges that Christopher was considered a bit of odd character as a boy, while the two think about what they want to do with their lives. And it seems that Christopher has always wanted to be a private investigator. We’re in the early 1930s, the Golden Age of the detective novel, which is what may have inspired him.

This may seem a little ridiculous, but Christopher is deadly earnest, and soon sets about fulfilling his ambition. But the big mystery that has dogged his life so far has always been the disappearance of his parents when Christopher was a young boy. The story flips back to his childhood in Shanghai, where his father had a job with a company that was involved with the trade of opium.

It is slightly surprising to me, looking back today, to think how as young boys we were allowed to come and go unsupervised to the extent we were. But this was, of course, all within the relative safety of the International Settlement. I for one was absolutely forbidden to enter the Chinese areas of the city, and as I know, Akira’s parents were no less strict on the matter. Out there, we were told, lay all manner of ghastly diseases, filth and evil men. The closest I had ever come to going out of the Settlement was once when a carriage carrying my mother and me took an unexpected route along that part of the Soochow creek bordering the Chapei district; I could see the huddled low rooftops across the canal, and had held my breath for as long as I could for fear the pestilence would come airborne across the narrow strip of water. No wonder then that my friend’s claim to have undertaken a number of secret forays into such areas made an impression on me.

Eventually, Christopher makes his way back to find his parents, which he is confident he can do, now that he’s become renown as a top detective. He does this regardless of the fact that China has been invaded by Japanese armed forces and nothing from his childhood is the same. Among the expats he meets there is Sarah Hemmings, a girl he’d found attractive at one time, now married to Sir Cecil, an aging diplomat who she is attempting to inspire into stopping the tide of war. Delusion among the expats seems to be catching.

Christopher ploughs on looking for his parents – surely they can’t really still in the house where they were taken all these years later? But he is convinced he will succeed, as is everyone else – he’s a famous detective after all. Yet he’s also something of an unreliable narrator – Ishiguro contrasts the workings of Christopher’s mind, his blindness to reality, with the chaos all around him. Is he a symbol of British interests in the East, of colonialism and the imagined superiority of the British Empire? There are a lot of ideas at play here.

When We Were Orphans was shortlisted for a Booker Prize although it hasn’t been a favourite with the critics.. I found the plot lagged a little towards the end, while the ending itself seemed a little rushed. But I did enjoy the world the author created and the characters, though obviously flawed, are still interesting and engaging enough to spend time with. Ishiguro sets up wonderful scenes, and creates settings you can really visualise. The writing is as it always is with Ishiguro, fabulous. I am glad I picked this up for a second time – another reason to hang on to those old books bought decades before, just in case. Even so, it’s probably only a three-and-a-half star read from me.