The book has two strands that run in parallel. The first is Lacroix’s long journey north from his house in Somerset via Bristol, the home of his sisteThe book has two strands that run in parallel. The first is Lacroix’s long journey north from his house in Somerset via Bristol, the home of his sister Lucy, to the Hebrides. It’s a journey he makes without much thought of a particular destination; it’s more about avoiding being recalled to service in the army and trying to escape the memories that haunt him. Only towards the end of the book will he reveal the nature of those memories to a confidante to whom he has become close. In the course of his journey, Lacroix experiences both the best and worst of humanity, experiencing violence but also the kindness of strangers. Eventually he arrives at a remote island in the Hebrides where he is given shelter by the Frend family, comprising Emily, her sister Jane, and their brother Cornelius. One of the themes running through the book is damage – physical, mental and emotional – so it’s notable that Emily is losing her sight and Cornelius is plagued by dental pain. John himself has been left partially deaf due to the illness he suffered on his return from Spain.
The second storyline involves Corporal Calley who has been given a mission by a mysterious individual to track down and kill Lacroix as part of a cover-up of atrocities committed in the war. Calley is the most relentless of adversaries; he’s cruel, brutal and entirely without mercy, committing some horrific acts along the way. As he closes in on his prey, there is an increasing air of menace, especially since Lacroix is unaware of Calley’s mission.
At the end of the book, although some elements of the story are resolved others, in the manner of a sea fret, are left opaque for the reader to reach their own conclusion about.
Now We Shall Be Entirely Free is the first book I’ve read by Andrew Miller and I can now understand why his writing has been the subject of so much praise. At times, it’s poetic in nature. One passage that especially sticks in my mind is from a scene in which two characters finally come together in an act of intimacy. ‘A mutual falling, the grief of appetite. And in between the touching, the tender manoeuvres, the new knowledge.’ ...more
The Dictionary of Lost Words is one of the five books on the shortlist for The Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction 2021, the winner of which is The Dictionary of Lost Words is one of the five books on the shortlist for The Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction 2021, the winner of which is due to be announced soon. I listened to the audiobook version, expertly narrated by Pippa Bennett-Warner.
Although the detail of how the first complete edition of the Oxford English Dictionary was compiled was fascinating, I found the pace of the story a little slow to begin with, albeit not as slow as the production of the dictionary which commenced in 1884 and wasn’t completed until 1928! However, once Esme embarks on her mission of collecting words that have been excluded or will never make it into the dictionary, and the reader is introduced to characters such as market stall holder Mabel, and actress and campaigner Tilda, the book started to come alive for me.
Esme’s devoted father can teach her the meaning of any word she comes across but can’t provide the guidance and support of the mother she lost. Instead, Esme is reliant on letters from her Aunt Editha and Lizzie, the kitchen maid at Sunnyside, to provide womanly advice. Even that doesn’t protect Esme from making a decision that will have long-term consequences.
Partly a coming of age story told from the perspective of the fictional Esme, gradually national and world events, such as the women’s suffrage movement, emerge from the background and begin to shape the lives of the characters. Later, the First World War brings both tragedy but also new opportunities.
The book raises interesting questions about the words that get included or excluded from dictionaries, about gender and social bias, and censorship. For example, the Oxford English Dictionary‘s editor, Dr. Murray, refuses to include what he considers ‘vulgar’ words, such as the names used for parts of women’s bodies, or words ‘ordinary’ people might use whose definitions cannot be backed up by quotations from ‘authoritative’ sources.
Later, the book also addresses the treatment of the indigenous people of Australia, whose language early settlers made no attempt to learn. Interestingly, it’s an issue explored in another of the shortlisted books, A Room Made of Leaves by Kate Grenville. In fact, this year’s shortlist has a distinctly Australian flavour with many of the books having been published there first.
Those familiar with Oxford will recognize many of the places that feature in The Dictionary of Lost Words – the Bodleian Library, the Eagle & Child pub and the area known as Jericho. Although I enjoyed the book, particularly the latter part, and learned a lot along the way (such as the word ‘fascicle’ – look it up!), I regret I couldn’t quite share the Walter Scott Prize judges’ level of enthusiasm....more
Shortlisted for The Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction 2021, A Room Made of Leaves opens with that oft-used literary device, the discovery of aShortlisted for The Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction 2021, A Room Made of Leaves opens with that oft-used literary device, the discovery of a hidden cache of documents. Adopting the guise of editor, Kate Grenville explains how she came into possession of a box containing the hitherto secret memoirs of Elizabeth Macarthur, the wife of one of the most famous and wealthy entrepreneurs of late 18th/early 19th century New South Wales. I’ll confess it had me immediately searching online to find out whether Elizabeth was a real or invented character. As it happens, she did exist in real life.
I listened to the audiobook version narrated by Valerie Bader and was initially daunted when I saw it had 131 chapters. However, most are very short helping to give the impression of diary entries.
Elizabeth Veale grows up in Cornwall, her social and financial position giving her limited options in life. Marriage to soldier John Macarthur initially seems to offer a form of escape but she soon discovers she has shackled herself to a man unable to show tenderness and that she is no nearer to being in control of her destiny. What she does demonstrate is a shrewd insight into John’s character: his love of grandiose schemes, of the ‘long game’, his need to be proved right, his delight in catching other people out, and his sensitivity to any suggestion of insult. Generously, she attributes his behaviour to the traumatic experiences of his youth and a sense of inferiority.
Forced to reveal to Elizabeth the existence of a large debt, John announces he has accepted a posting to the penal colony in New South Wales as it comes with promotion. As usual, he’s full of confidence, dismisses reports of troubles in the colony and seems to have no concerns about taking wife and young son half way across the world.
I’ve only read one previous book by Kate Grenville, Sarah Thornhill the final book in her trilogy that started with The Secret River (although I didn’t realize it was part of a trilogy at the time). A theme it shares with A Room Made of Leaves is colonization and the exploitation of the indigenous people. Indeed most of the people Elizabeth encounters regard the indigenous people as ‘savages’, referring to them as ‘our sable brethren’. Only Lieutenant Dawes, a keen astronomer, makes any effort to communicate with them in their own language and understand their customs.
I think your reaction to this book will depend on how much you knew about the real Elizabeth Macarthur before reading it. If, like me, you knew absolutely nothing then your judgment of the book will be based solely on the quality of the writing and the skill with which the story is told. Unfortunately, I found the pace of the book slow at times with scenes of significance recounted only briefly and others, such as Elizabeth’s tea parties (her ‘Antipodean salons’) described in detail. It really only picked up for me towards the end when the reader is finally introduced to the ‘room made of leaves’. And, although I appreciate the author is exploring the line between truth and invention, I continue to find the artificiality of the ‘secret journal’ device unconvincing. Would anyone really keep copies of every letter they sent? Would even the most diligent diarist be able to recall conversations in such detail they could reproduce them verbatim years later?
Readers familiar with the life of Elizabeth Macarthur will be in a better position to judge the ‘playful dance of possibilities between the real and the invented’ described in the book’s blurb. Regrettably, I couldn’t feel the same enthusiasm for the book as the judges of the Walter Scott Prize – which probably means it might well win!...more
DNF at 50% The book includes arcane mathematical concepts, most of which went over my head. I got to the point where I had no idea what was going on aDNF at 50% The book includes arcane mathematical concepts, most of which went over my head. I got to the point where I had no idea what was going on and even less interest in finding out....more
There’s no doubt that The Mercies has real atmosphere with its dramatic opening scenes and the sense of folklore and traditions handed down through geThere’s no doubt that The Mercies has real atmosphere with its dramatic opening scenes and the sense of folklore and traditions handed down through generations that runs through it. The author really conveys the hardships of living in such an inhospitable environment. The daily tasks carried out by the women of the community are described in detail: butchering reindeer meat, baking bread, foraging for herbs or birds’ eggs, preparing and sowing skins into garments. Following the loss of the men of the village, Vardø becomes a community of women forced to fend for themselves in ways some consider ‘ungodly’.
If you’re looking for male characters with any admirable qualities you’re going to be disappointed, the exception perhaps being the captain of the ship that brings Ursa to Vardø. In particular, Ursa’s husband, Absalom Cornet, is cruel, brutal and unfeeling, convinced he is doing God’s work by rooting out witches. His fanaticism is chiefly directed at the Sami people, such as Maren’s sister-in-law Diinna, but it doesn’t take much persuading for some members of the community to turn on any of those who are different or whose ways they don’t understand.
After the drama of the opening chapters, I found the pace of the book lagged a little as the focus moves to charting the gradual development of the relationship between Maren and Ursa from dependence, to trust, to friendship and affection. Indeed, it’s only in the last quarter of the book that the events leading up to the witch trials are introduced. When they are, there are some truly chilling scenes.
I listened to the audiobook narrated by Jessie Buckley. I thought her narration was excellent and, although I’m no expert, her pronunciation of the Norwegian names sounded convincing to me. On the other hand, because many of the women in the village had names that sounded similar, I did find it a challenge to remember who was who on occasions. Perhaps this is a case where it would have been easier if I’d seen the names written down.
I can see why The Mercies has received such critical acclaim even if I couldn’t quite share the same overwhelming enthusiasm myself....more
The Wanderers is the second novel in Tim Pears’s West Country trilogy. Like the first book, The Horseman, it was longlisted for The Walter Scott PrizeThe Wanderers is the second novel in Tim Pears’s West Country trilogy. Like the first book, The Horseman, it was longlisted for The Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction. (The author recently made it three out of three when the final book in the trilogy, The Redeemed, made the shortlist for the 2020 prize.) I listened to the audiobook version, superbly narrated by Jonathan Keeble, who really captured the rhythm of the writing and created distinct voices for the various characters.
The end of The Horseman saw young Leo leaving his home to head westward, filled with guilt that an innocent act should have resulted in dramatic consequences for his family. Penniless and without the means to sustain himself, he is rescued by a band of gypsies. There follows a wonderful section of the book in which Leo is introduced to gypsy culture and travels with the Orchard ‘tribe’. Once again, his bond with horses and his riding ability form a key part of the storyline. Learning that the gypsies do not intend to travel further westward, he parts company with them in a thrillingly opportunistic way. Once more Leo finds himself travelling alone, reliant on his own enterprise or the kindness of strangers to feed him and provide him with shelter.
Throughout the book, the author populates Leo’s journey with a wonderful cast of characters, such as the patriarch of the Orchard family and an old shepherd. Often he meets people living on the margins of society. For example, an ailing hermit, a veteran of the Boer War who senses the country is moving towards war once again.
During his travels Leo is educated in country ways such as the care of sheep, and how to forage and live off the land. These are described in realistic detail – in some cases, perhaps rather too realistic for those on the squeamish side! As in The Horseman, there are wonderful descriptions of the landscape through which Leo passes. The author vividly depicts a way of life that progresses at a very different pace to our own, one much more aligned with the seasons. Of course, the reader knows it’s a way of life that will shortly be changed forever by the coming of war.
Meanwhile, back on the estate, Lottie feels increasingly invisible as her father’s attention is diverted elsewhere. She fears being sent away from the estate and the countryside she loves so much and being unable to pursue her interest in nature and biology, not considered suitable subjects for a young lady in her position. She clings to the hope that Leo, the only person who seems to understand her passion for the natural world, will keep his promise to return.
The book ends at a turning point for Leo, and for the country. I’m looking forward to finding out what happens in The Redeemed, the final book in the trilogy, which will pick up Leo’s and Lottie’s story in 1916....more
I’m almost ashamed to admit that this is the first book I’ve read by Isabel Allende mainly because she’s known for her works of magic realism which isI’m almost ashamed to admit that this is the first book I’ve read by Isabel Allende mainly because she’s known for her works of magic realism which is a genre I’ve been unable to get along with. However, when I saw the description of this book, especially that it was partly set during the Spanish Civil War and its aftermath, I thought this might be my opportunity to experience her writing. I listened to the audiobook version, skilfully narrated by Edoardo Ballerini.
The book, translated by Amanda Hopkinson and Nick Caistor, vividly recreates the chaos and confusion of the Spanish Civil War and its terrible toll on Spanish citizens, tearing apart families and communities, plunging others into homelessness, poverty and hunger, and forcing many into exile. Mixing historical events with both real and fictional characters, each chapter of the book opens with an excerpt from the works of renowned Chilean poet Pablo Neruda.
The book tells the story of Victor Dalmau, a young doctor who is caught up on the Republican side in the Spanish Civil War and is forced to flee to France with Roser, the wife of his brother who was killed fighting against the forces of Franco. Although I had heard of Pablo Neruda, I had no idea of his role in helping refugees from the conflict to emigrate to Chile, the country whose description as the ‘long petal of the sea’ inspires the book’s title.
There are vivid scenes aboard the SS Winnipeg, as Victor and Roser make the dangerous and uncomfortable voyage across the Atlantic, through the Panama canal, into the Pacific and their eventual arrival in Chile. There Victor pursues his ambition to become a doctor, alongside running a tavern (named Winnipeg in honour of the ship that carried them to safety), and Roser builds a career as a musician. Having entered into a ‘marriage of convenience’ in order to secure their entry into Chile, Victor and Roser pursue separate relationships whilst at the same time finding there remains a strong connection between them. Their past life in Spain is not completely left behind either despite the thousands of miles that divide them from their homeland and from people they believed lost forever.
Alongside the fIctional story of Victor and Roser’s new life in Chile, the book describes the political changes in that country from the end of the Second World War onwards, including the rise to power of Salvador Allende (a distant relative of the author), his subsequent overthrow and assassination, and the coming of the brutal Pinochet regime. I’ll admit that, at times, my attention wandered during this part of the book as it felt more like a history lesson – albeit one influenced by the author’s own heritage – than a story inspired by the characters she had created. However, the book was redeemed for me by the final section which charts, in the most powerful and emotional way possible, the final years of the lives of Victor and Roser.
Spanning decades and a number of generations, A Long Petal of the Sea is an epic family saga that vividly demonstrates the emotional turmoil and suffering caused by war but also serves as an insight into turbulent periods in the history of both Spain and Chile....more
The first thing I would say is I think the blurb on Goodreads reveals way too much of the plot. And, although I enjoyed Then We Take Berlin, I wasn’t The first thing I would say is I think the blurb on Goodreads reveals way too much of the plot. And, although I enjoyed Then We Take Berlin, I wasn’t entirely a fan of its structure. At times, it seemed like (at least) three different books all rolled into one. (I see I made a similar comment about Friends and Traitors by the same author).
Then We Take Berlin opens in 1963 as Joe Holderness travels to New York to be offered a job by a colleague of Frank, a buddy from his days in Berlin after WW2. I enjoyed Joe’s wide-eyed reaction to seeing the sights of New York for the first time. The job he’s offered will involve him returning to Berlin and making use of his knowledge of that city. However, it will be a long time before the reader learns more about what Frank and Joe got up to in post-war Berlin and even longer until the mission Joe is offered takes place.
Instead the book goes back in time to 1941 to reveal Joe’s wartime childhood, including his experiences at the hands of a violent father. Events occur which mean Joe is brought up by his grandfather, Abner, and Abner’s girlfriend, Merle. It’s during this time that Joe is tutored in the dubious skills that will prove to be of such value in the future. Later, after the war has ended, he’s called up for National Service and Joe’s facility with languages is spotted by the British Secret Service. The result sees him embark upon an entirely different kind of education.
Then, in what I thought was one of the most powerful sections of the book, the story moves to Germany and introduces a new character – Nell. Evacuated during the war from her home in Berlin to live with her uncle, the end of the war brings her by chance to the site of a wartime atrocity. Using her powers of persuasion and a few untruths, she gains work as an interpreter for the Allied forces and begins documenting the identities of survivors. She is nevertheless determined to return home to Berlin because, as she frequently says, “I am a Berliner”.
Eventually the story of Joe’s exploits in post-war Berlin takes centre stage as he and some comrades with connections in the right places take advantage of the flourishing black market. But have they got in over their heads? There’s an impressive amount of detail about the Berlin of the time which is clearly the product of a lot of research.
As the book reaches its climax we’re back in the year 1963 and Joe finally undertakes, albeit with reservations, the job he’s been contracted to do. Events move along at pace and woven into the story is an iconic moment in history that takes place in West Berlin. The author gives Nell a pivotal role in this, as signalled in the opening chapter. The last few chapters of the book are full of tension and the ending leaves enough loose ends to make a sequel irresistible.
Although only around 400 pages, the book has a lot of chapters, many of which are extremely short. Having taken a quick peek at my copy of The Unfortunate Englishman, I see that it also has many short chapters so this must be a deliberate style choice on the part of the author. The audiobook version has over two hundred chapters and I’m guessing its narrator, Lewis Hancock, must have been pleased when it was finally time to say “Chapter 206”. Talking of the narration, Lewis Hancock does a great job coping with the different accents required – Russian, German, American, etc. – although I did have difficulty at times recognising it was Nell speaking.
Then We Take Berlin is an entertaining spy thriller with a charismatic central character and, despite my reservations about its structure, I definitely intend to read the next two books in the series at some point....more
I listened to the audiobook version expertly narrated by Theo Solomon and Karise Yansen, both really capturing the Jamaican patois. The book alternateI listened to the audiobook version expertly narrated by Theo Solomon and Karise Yansen, both really capturing the Jamaican patois. The book alternates between 1948 and Lawrie’s arrival in England aboard the Empire Windrush from Jamaica, and 1950 which finds him working as a postman.
It becomes clear from the sections set in 1948 that he found a very different welcome from the one he expected. He and his fellow passengers are greeted not with open arms but placed in a cramped shelter and faced with overt racism as they seek employment. Only Rose, a volunteer at the shelter, offers any sign of friendship, but she has motives of her own. Then Lawrie meets Evie and their romance soon blossoms, although as the reader learns, Evie has secrets of her own. Anxious to raise sufficient money to marry Evie, he earns extra by transporting black market goods for his landlady’s son, Daniel Ryan, plus occasional gigs playing clarinet in a jazz band.
I thought Lawrie was a wonderful character. He’s sincere, polite and his tenderness towards Evie is touching. The way he is treated by the police when he comes under suspicion for involvement in a crime is shocking.
The atmosphere of post-war bomb-damaged London is brilliantly evoked. With rationing still in place, think spam fritters, fish paste sandwiches or, for a treat, egg and chips in a local cafe.
Part mystery, part love story, This Lovely City demonstrates London was anything but a lovely city for many black people. The book is a revealing insight into the stigma of illegitimacy and the prejudice faced by people of colour, in particular by the Windrush generation; sadly they have faced other injustices in recent years. The audiobook version provides a bonus final chapter that will get you tapping your feet....more
I was introduced to Attica Locke’s writing through reading her first published crime novel, Black Water Rising, and since then I’ve eagerly consumed iI was introduced to Attica Locke’s writing through reading her first published crime novel, Black Water Rising, and since then I’ve eagerly consumed its successors, The Cutting Season and Pleasantville. I read and reviewed the first in the author’s new ‘Highway 59’ series, Bluebird, Bluebird in 2017. Heaven, My Home is the follow-up to that book, once again featuring black Texas Ranger, Darren Matthews.
A number of story lines from the previous book are picked up, including Darren’s troubled relationship with his mother, his concern that certain of his past actions may come to light and continuing doubts about the state of his marriage to wife, Lisa. However, there is sufficient recapping for readers who either have not read Bluebird, Bluebird or who have but need a reminder about events in the earlier book.
Darren is a realistically flawed character. Not everything he’s done is right, even where it was with the best of intentions. In this book he faces difficult moral dilemmas again. He possesses a strong sense of justice which fuels his determination to find the missing boy when no-one else besides Levi’s distraught mother seems bothered. Perhaps it’s because the boy reminds him of his younger self. But is there truth in the accusation that his blind spot is his instinct to protect black people accused of crime?
The book has the author’s signature blend of crime mystery and exploration of contemporary political themes such as racial tension and corruption in high places. In particular, the book exposes the history and treatment of Native Americans whilst also touching on the scourge of white supremacy and raising questions about how the past is represented, especially if that past involves unsavoury events. Once again, the author creates a vivid picture of small town America highlighting the contrast between the lives of rich and poor, black and white.
Darren eventually homes in what may have happened to the missing boy thanks to a number of clues, one of which at least turns out to be a load of baloney. I have to say the motive behind it all, when revealed, was rather complex and not quite as gripping as in previous books. However, the way in which the other storylines were woven into it compensated for this.
I listened to the audio book version of Heaven, My Home and thought J D Jackson did a great job as narrator. He was able to create sufficient distinctiveness between the various male characters and voiced the female characters in a way that didn’t jar. (His delivery was quite slow so I found increasing the speed to x1.25 worked well without impacting on clarity.)
I really enjoyed Heaven, My Home and there were a few plot threads left unresolved that I’m hoping will be carried over to a future book....more
The Offing is quite different in style from the author’s Walter Scott Prize-winning The Gallows Pole which I read the year it was shortlisted. It is mThe Offing is quite different in style from the author’s Walter Scott Prize-winning The Gallows Pole which I read the year it was shortlisted. It is much gentler in tone but still quietly powerful. For anyone who’s wondering about the title, the offing is the name for the distant stretch of sea where sky and water merge.
The Offing involves a chance encounter between young Robert Appleyard, who has set off to explore the country beyond his home in a small mining village near Durham, and Dulcie, an older woman living in a cottage on the outskirts of Robin Hood’s Bay in North Yorkshire. It leads to a friendship that also becomes an education for Robert. Dulcie introduces him to unfamiliar foods such as lobster, to wine and to her favourite nettle tea. But she also feeds his mind, lending him books of poetry by John Clare and novels by D H Lawrence and others.
For Robert, what starts as a temporary stay turns into a summer in which his mind and his horizons are widened by Dulcie’s unique take on the world. In return for her hospitality he works on clearing the meadow threatening to overwhelm her cottage and on restoring a nearby shack fallen into disuse. What he finds there unlocks memories of the past for Dulcie as well as setting Robert on a new path in life, one he never thought would be open to someone with a background like his.
I loved the descriptions of the natural world and the glorious meals Dulcie prepares for Robert. More than anything, I loved Dulcie – for her generosity, wit, independent spirit, wisdom and determination to live life by her own rules. As she says, “After all, there are only a few things truly worth fighting for: freedom, of course, and all that it brings with it. Poetry, perhaps, and a good glass of wine. A nice meal. Nature. Love, if you’re lucky.” Dulcie sees the potential in Robert that he can’t see himself and is intent on nurturing it as she once nurtured the talent of someone else.
I listened to the audiobook version narrated by Ralph Ineson. His deep, husky voice and northern accent were a good match for the slow unwinding of the story and its rich descriptive passages.
As well as being a compelling story of an unlikely friendship, The Offing is a love letter to the natural world, to poetry and to living life to the full. Highly recommended....more
When I heard Anne de Courcy talk about her book at Henley Literary Festival recently she described Chanel’s Riviera as a ‘biography of the Riviera’. IWhen I heard Anne de Courcy talk about her book at Henley Literary Festival recently she described Chanel’s Riviera as a ‘biography of the Riviera’. I think that’s a fair description because readers expecting the majority of the book to be about Chanel may be disappointed. Yes, Chanel does feature a lot but in sections of the book she is either on the periphery or absent entirely. For example, she spent periods during the war in Paris rather than on the Riviera.
What the book does well is conjure up the glamour and hedonism of life on the Riviera for the rich and famous before the war. The author describes how it became a haven for writers and artists like Picasso, Ernest Hemingway, Somerset Maugham, H G Wells and Jean Cocteau, as well as society figures such as Winston Churchill and, later, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.
The mood changes suddenly following the outbreak of war. The book depicts the arrival of refugees from Northern Europe, including Jews fleeing persecution, and the food shortages that followed the fall of France in 1940 as supplies were diverted to Germany. Life for many living on the Cote d’Azur became really tough and the author uses material from diaries and contemporary sources to tell the harrowing stories of individuals.
Other than her reputation as a designer, I knew very little about Chanel’s life before reading this book. It was interesting to learn of her rise from humble beginnings to doyenne of the fashion world. However, I can’t say everything I learned made me warm to Chanel as a person. For instance, I was shocked to learn of her anti-Semitic views.
In the book the author addresses claims that Chanel collaborated with the Nazis. For example, she suggests Chanel’s taking of a senior German officer as a lover was principally aimed at trying to gain the release of her nephew who was being held as a prisoner of war by the Germans. However I found myself wondering if ‘the will to survive’ was sufficient justification for some of Chanel’s actions.
As the author recounts, partly what kept Chanel free from the retaliation meted out to others accused of collaboration was the reopening of her Paris store following its liberation in 1944 and the offer of a free bottle of her iconic perfume for every US soldier to take home to their wife or sweetheart. That and being able to produce papers demonstrating her friendship with Winston Churchill.
Chanel’s Riviera is clearly the product of extensive research. For me, the most interesting element of the book was seeing the impact of the Second World War on an area of France which had hitherto been the playground of the rich and famous. #NonficNov...more
Amazingly, the story at the heart of The Warlow Experiment is rooted in historical fact. A Mr Powyss of Moreham in Lancashire really did publish an adAmazingly, the story at the heart of The Warlow Experiment is rooted in historical fact. A Mr Powyss of Moreham in Lancashire really did publish an advertisement offering a reward of £50 a year for life to any man willing to live for seven years underground without seeing another human face. And, as in the novel, the successful applicant was required to “let his toe and fingernails grow during the whole of his confinement, together with his beard”.
John Warlow is a complex character. He is a violent man who physically assaults his wife, Hannah. As a farm labourer living close to poverty the idea of earning £50 a year for life is something like a dream and it is his sole motivation for undertaking the assignment. A man of little imagination, he has no conception of the toll the experiment will take on his physical and mental health.
The social gulf between Warlow and Powyss is illustrated in the accommodation Powyss has prepared for Warlow in the cellar of Moreham House. It’s filled with books but Warlow is barely literate, struggling to make sense of a few pages of Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, another individual enduring isolation. But there’s no Man Friday to act as a companion to Warlow, unless you count a frog that manages to enter the cellar or, latterly, a cat. Warlow’s accommodation has a bath but he never uses it and he is puzzled by the frequency of the delivery of clean linen. His meals (a replica of what is being served to Powyss) are lowered to him in a dumb waiter but are rarely to his liking. He’s happy with the beer and tobacco, though. Ridiculously, Warlow’s rooms are also furnished with a chamber-organ, Powyss’s thought being, one supposes, that Warlow can while away the time learning to play it – when he’s not reading Voltaire that is.
One of Powyss’s requirements is that Warlow keep a daily journal, expecting it to contain insights into Warlow’s experiences that can be used in the scientific paper he intends to write. The entries Warlow manages, before he gives up keeping it altogether, are brief and definitely not full of insight.
Warlow’s descent into madness is disturbing to witness but unsurprising. He quickly loses track of time. Unable to tell night from day, his only clue is the meals delivered to him. His discovery that Powyss has installed a listening device only increases his sense of paranoia. Ironically, Powyss becomes increasingly disturbed by the noises he hears, contributing to his growing doubts about the morality of his experiment.
I mentioned earlier the gulf between Warlow and Powyss but, in fact, there are similarities. Powyss’s life is one of solitude, albeit luxurious solitude. He appears emotionally repressed, welcoming no visitors to Moreham House. He has little social contact aside from his servants, the exception being occasional visits to a London brothel. He is an obsessive collector of plants and spends much of the day in his study immersed in his books or dreaming of the fame his experiment will attract. Like Warlow, he appears to have no conception of the impact the requirements of his experiment will have on his subject.
No record exists of the outcome of the real life experiment so this element of the book is entirely the product of the author’s imagination. The concept that actions have consequences is dramatically played out as Powyss becomes infatuated with Warlow’s wife, with disastrous consequences. Mayhem, melodrama and murder follow against the backdrop of an age of popular revolution as parts of the citizenry, including some within Powyss’s household, rise up in pursuit of the same rights as their counterparts in France.
I thought Mark Meadow’s narration was absolutely superb. He created distinctive voices for each of the many characters – both male and female – so I was never confused about who was speaking. His voicing of Warlow was particularly memorable, especially during Warlow’s periods of madness, really bringing to life the author’s evocative writing.
The Warlow Experiment explores many issues – social, economic, scientific, psychological – as well as being a really engrossing story. And in case you thought experiments in social isolation were a thing of the past, a Spanish extreme athlete recently spent 500 days in a cave with no human contact in pursuit of a world record. ...more
In this fictionalized account of the life of Bram Stoker, the author adopts some of the literary techniques of Stoker’s famous novel, Dracula, includiIn this fictionalized account of the life of Bram Stoker, the author adopts some of the literary techniques of Stoker’s famous novel, Dracula, including the use of diary entries, letters and transcripts of conversations as well as more traditional third person narration. As Stoker struggles – with limited success – to achieve his literary aspirations, some of the fun is spotting names and places that will later find their way into Dracula.
The core of the novel is the relationship between Bram Stoker and the bombastic Sir Henry Irving. When famed actress, Ellen Terry, arrives on the scene it creates an even more turbulent triangle. Poor Florence, Bram Stoker’s wife, is rather left out in the cold as the Lyceum Theatre becomes central to Stoker’s life. Not to mention attending to the whims of Sir Henry Irving, an equally all-consuming occupation, the main qualification for which seems to be the ability to consume large quantities of alcohol.
I loved the descriptions of the theatrical performances and all the backstage goings on. There is a great episode where Oscar Wilde attends a performance and provokes a very raucous after show party. The author also throws in some supernatural elements and it’s all set against the backdrop of a London stalked by Jack the Ripper.
The last, quite long, section of the book transports the reader ahead a number of years and has a distinctly melancholy tone as age and infirmity catch up with the main characters. I found the end of the book poignant and rather moving.
I listened to the audiobook version, narrated by Anna Chancellor and Barry McGovern. To be fair, the latter does the majority of the narration with Anna Chancellor contributing a couple of sections purporting to be recordings of Ellen Terry’s recollections of Sir Henry Irving. These are wickedly funny and delivered in Anna Chancellor’s inimitable style. Where Ellen Terry appears elsewhere in the book, she is voiced by Barry McGovern rather than by Anna Chancellor, even in chapters told from the point of view of Ellen Terry. However, I can’t fault Barry McGovern’s representation of the rich, plummy tones of Sir Henry Irving or the soft Irish lilt of Bram Stoker.
Shadowplay is inventive, imaginative and full of Gothic atmosphere. I can definitely see why it has earned a place on The Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction 2020 shortlist....more
The author is clearly fond of similes; in fact, so fond that waiting for them at the end of a sentence became somewhat distracting at times. DependingThe author is clearly fond of similes; in fact, so fond that waiting for them at the end of a sentence became somewhat distracting at times. Depending on your point of view, the examples that follow are imaginative, laboured or simply perplexing.
‘She shrank like a caterpillar on its back’ ‘Nofar’s guilt, like a Persian cat, rubbed her legs fleetingly, sat for a brief moment on her lap, then moved onward.’ ‘Smiles have a way of catching a person’s eye, like a red balloon gliding in the sky and drawing the glances of people below.’ ‘Her thoughts, like pizza-delivery boys on their motorcycles, reached the most remote streets.’ ‘Love is a very delicate thing, the truth can trample it like a hippopotamus running wild.’ ‘The words were like a can of petrol thrown on the small ball of fire in her stomach.’ ‘Her face was red and swollen, but to Lavi she looked like a wonderful grapefruit.’
I wasn’t entirely convinced by the introduction of a secondary storyline and a new character, Raymonde, in part two of the book. Although consistent with the theme of the book – that lies take on a life of their own and are difficult to take back – I struggled with the nature and context of her deception. It was more deliberate and studied than Nofar’s spur-of-the-moment outburst. I suppose it could be argued that, in sharing the stories of her dead friend, Raymonde was at least ensuring they would be heard.
I also found it hard to identify with the characters in the book or become engaged in the central relationship between Nofar and Lavi, which seemed a little on the creepy side to me. Although never stated, the book is set in Tel Aviv but I didn’t get a particularly strong sense of place; much of the action is confined to Nofar’s family’s apartment or the dingy alley beside the ice cream parlour where she works. The exception was a night time scene in which Nofar looks out over the city from the roof of the family’s apartment.
I felt the novel worked best as an exploration of lies and their consequences. Pretty much all the characters in the book lie in one way or another. Some are motivated by a desire for attention or sympathy, others to show off or to make believe they’re living a different, more exciting life. Their lies range from the ‘white lie’ to out-and-out deceit or, as in Nofar’s case, to false accusation. The book also demonstrates the way lies can take on a life of their own, make the teller vulnerable to manipulation and unwittingly compromise the integrity of others....more
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