Monthly Archives: March 2012

Every Vow You Break – Julia Crouch

Following the success of Cuckoo, Julia Crouch has written another psychological thriller that is sure to be equally well-received. Crouch is one of those writers who have the kind of writing style which make her books recognisable without them being ‘samey’, much in the same way as Sophie Hannah, a writer whose work I love (and must review at some point!).

When the Wayland family decamp to upstate New York for the summer to allow Marcus to perform in a community production of Macbeth, Lara and her kids – Olly, Bella and Jack – don’t know what to expect. What they get is a dirty and dusty house in a tiny town, with only a library and a pool for excitement, excepting the theatre, which is much smaller than they were led to believe. They are met by theatre company’s director, James and his wife Betty, who have arranged a surprise for the family, one which Lara in particular isn’t expecting. Stephen Molloy, one of Marcus’ old friends, now a Hollywood star, is in the area, recovering from a breakdown caused by a stalker in LA. He and Lara were also once in love, having an affair not long after Lara’s marriage to Marcus. The meeting at James and Betty’s reawakens feelings which Lara thought that she had hidden away forever, and throws her attempts at rekindling her marriage into total disarray. Soon Stephen and Lara are getting increasingly close again, but Lara is playing with fire and doesn’t seem to realise that she could get burnt…

In addition to Lara and Stephen’s story, there is a subplot involving Lara and Marcus’ eldest children, Bella and Olly. They are 16 year old twins who, at first, seem to have normal teenaged-sibling relationship, bickering and teasing. However, it is soon implied that there is more to it than that. Bella is obviously scared of Olly, and he frequently threatens her with something. When you find out what that something is, the book takes a more sinister turn.

There is a real sense of impending danger swirling around the novel. From the strange woman who seems to be following Lara, trying to run her over and making gestures, and the louts that Olly finds to hang out with, to the discoveries that Lara makes within the house, no chapter goes by without Crouch ratcheting up the tension, which goes some way to explain the slow pace of the first half of the novel.

Crouch has a skill for writing about place. In Cuckoo this was shown in the vivid descriptions of the West Country countryside, and in this novel it is the evocation of the hot New York summer. The filthy rental house, dusty deserted streets and the close, overheated atmosphere of the small town are well-matched to the slowly building tension and the boredom of  seemingly endless days, and  Stephen’s mansion in the woods offers a refuge from both the grimy heat and her failing relationship for Lara.

Once again, Crouch has written a well-crafted and tense novel. I felt that Bella and Olly’s subplot was a little forced, but it tied in well with the overall narrative at the end. My main criticism is one that I also had about Cuckoo, and that is the denouement feels rushed. Crouch builds the tension and the atmosphere so well throughout the majority of the novel that the ending feels a little anti-climactic, especially the epilogue. I enjoyed this more than Cuckoo, and only the slightly abrupt ending, and irritating epilogue, stops it being a 4 out of 5.
 
 
3.5/5
 
 
This book was provided for review purposes by http://www.welovethisbook.com.

Tideline by Penny Hancock

I finished Penny Hancock’s debut novel on Sunday, having received it on Wednesday. My review pile is growing and I thought that Tideline would join the other books waiting for some attention. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Maybe it was the premise, maybe it was the promise of the Thames featuring as almost a character in itself, but Hancock’s novel was never going to last long on that review pile! So, without any review deadlines coming up, I’d bump it up the list and read it over the weekend.

Sonia lives in the River House, in Greenwich. Her father left her the house when he committed suicide years before, and her mother now lives in an assisted-living flat. Sonia’s husband Greg is a doctor who is frequently travelling and their only child, Kit, has just left home to go to Newcastle University, leaving Sonia alone in the house that she loves. She is becoming increasingly insular, cutting herself off from her friends, including Helen, and then she meets Jez, Helen’s fifteen year old nephew. He has come around to borrow a record from her husband Greg, but Sonia knows that she cannot allow him to leave. Inviting him in, she plies him with wine and cooks dinner for the two of them, letting Jez play Greg’s guitar and having, in her eyes, a lovely grown-up conversation. She also calls him ‘Seb’ occasionally which confuses him, although she laughs it off. When Jez is too drunk to get home, she puts him to bed in their music room, promising that he shouldn’t worry about it, that it happens to everyone occasionally.

What doesn’t happen to everyone is waking up to a raging hangover and finding yourself locked in the spare room of your host’s house. Sonia makes an excuse for locking the door whenever she leaves Jez in the music room, and he seems to believe her at first. However it isn’t long before she needs to sedate him with sleeping pills that she has taken from her mother in order to make him stay with her. When Greg and Kit announce that they are coming home for the weekend, she must make a decision- will she let him go, pretending that it was all part of an elaborate plan for his birthday surprise, or will she move him somewhere else?

Alternated with these sections focussing on Sonia are chapters which show the fallout from Jez’s disappearance, and how it affects his family and girlfriend. The key character in these sections is Helen, Sonia’s old friend and Jez’s aunt. He was staying with her and her family whilst he auditioned for music colleges. colleges which her less diligent sons would never get into. When he doesn’t come home, his mother flies to England and the tension in Helen’s household rises considerably. She resents her sister’s accusatory tone in reference to both her methods of child-rearing and Jez’s disappearance, but the accusations don’t only come from within her home. The police seem convinced that Helen knows more than she is letting on about her nephew’s whereabouts, and her increasingly noticeable drinking isn’t helping her cause.

Hancock throws you straight into the plot with very little build-up, and it thus feels very immediate. Sonia’s chapters are told in the present tense first-person, which really works when the narrative is based so greatly on her state of mind and her thought-processes. Strewn throughout her narrative about Jez are flashbacks to her relationship with Seb, her first and only real love, at least until Jez appeared at her door. The memories are dangerous and disturbing, both to Sonia and to the reader, telling of a relationship based on domination and hero-worship. It is clear that Seb had some horrible accident, but the details are only released slowly and teasingly as Sonia remembers things that she has kept hidden for thirty years.

I did feel as if there could have been a little more explanation as to why Jez didn’t fight to escape more as he became scared, but his reactions were just about believable as they were. In addition, Sonia feels more fleshed-out than Helen - the descriptions of her deteriorating mental state are stark and unsettling, and the gradual revelations about her and Seb are satisfying. On the other hand, Helen’s character feels slightly more two-dimensional, possibly because her narrative is in the third person. However, one aspect of her character that I did find interesting and believable was her having mixed feelings towards Jez. She resents her nephew, even when he vanishes, but she is honest enough with herself to realise that, whatever her feelings towards her sister, none of what has happened is Jez’s fault. Her sons are responsible for their own lives and it is fair on no-one to compare them to Jez.

It feels strange to be describing a book with such a dark subject matter as Tideline as enjoyable, but I really did find it a joy to read. It was uncomfortable in places, especially when Sonia describes stroking the sleeping Jez, but it is never gratuitous and is sensitively written. The way in which the Thames is used to build atmosphere, in all of its dark and dangerous glory, is wonderful and really helps to build the tension. Sonia’ s fixation with the river, and the events that occurred on it, is a constant throughout the novel, one that reflects  her swirling and increasingly confused thoughts. The ending, with its shocking revelation about Seb and Sonia, was a genuine surprise, and one which I haven’t been able to stop thinking about in the days since I finished the book.

It’s a thrilling début and I can’t wait to see what Hancock writes next.

4/5

This book was provided as a review copy, but I was not paid for my review, and the views expressed are mine.


Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

I’ve been wondering how to write this review since I started Gone Girl. Gillian Flynn has written a book which is almost impossible to review without giving away major plot points. Just as you think that you have a handle on what’s going on, and who is in the right, another twist comes along and throws everything into disarray again. It’s about the complexity of relationships, and the need for revenge that springs from the hatred caused by a failed marriage. Flynn is a highly intelligent writer, and I’m so envious of her for conceiving this plot!

Without giving anything away, the premise is this. Nick Dunne met Amy Elliott at a party in New York. They were both writers, working for successful magazines, and they hit it off straight away….for an evening. 8 months later, they meet again and this time get married. They are the perfect couple: cool, clever, wealthy and in love. Amy’s parents are the authors of the ‘Amazing Amy’ series of books for children, based on their own daughter, and although Amy is used to being admired, she’s also sick of being bettered by her semi-fictional counterpart. With Nick, she is finally on top.

The novel opens with Nick going downstairs on the morning of their 5th wedding anniversary to find Amy making pancakes for him. Told in the first person, Nick’s narrative makes it clear that he is uneasy about his anniversary, and uncomfortable, but before we are told why, the chapter ends and the narrative switches to Amy’s diary entry for the night she met Nick for the first time: “Tra and la! I am smiling a big adopted orphan smile as I write this”. Something must have gone seriously wrong between the two of them to go from Amy’s ecstatically happy entry to Nick’s uncomfortable avoidance of his wife, but Flynn doesn’t let you know what it is immediately. She teases and tantalises, the narrative alternating between Nick’s present-day narrative and Amy’s diary entries.

By the end of the third chapter, Amy is gone, vanished. Her dress is still on the ironing board, ready to be pressed for their anniversary treasure-hunt, an Elliott, and now Dunne, tradition. It is at this point that the book becomes hard to write about, because almost every chapter contains a twist or a turn, the story snaking around and around until it’s hard to see who is right, or wrong, or where the narrative is going. That isn’t to say that it’s overly complicated or confusing; rather that, to use an over-used phrase, it’s a real page-turner. The story keeps on moving and it’s a hard book to put down, which surprised me because if I came across characters this unbearable in any other book, I’d have probably had to force myself to finish it. Nick and Amy both made me want to throw the book through the window at regular intervals, but they worked in the context of the narrative. Nick’s sister, Margot, is more likeable – she’s funny, intelligent and neurotic. She’s the kind of woman who would probably be described as ‘feisty’, but in a good way. The two laywers, Tanner and Betsy Bolt, add a nice touch of humour with their pretty double act and antics with jelly beans.

If I had a criticism of Gone Girl, it would be that the ending, whilst not an anti-climax, only just works. Flynn makes her protagonists’ actions convincing and in character, but it’s one step away from being ridiculous. That having been said, the whole book is faintly melodramatic so the ending isn’t a big change of tone. I just feel as if Flynn could have taken a different direction with it, and it would have been a little more convincing.

All in all, this is the first thriller in a long time that I’ve had such a hard time putting down. I hated the two main characters and thought that the twists and turns were exhausting but these things worked, in  perverse way, to make the novel ultra-readable. I’ll definitely look out for the two previous novels by Flynn, Dark Places and Sharp Objects.

4/5

Published on the 24th May in the UK.

I won an advance proof copy of this novel. The views are all my own and I wasn’t paid for the review.


Good in a Crisis – Margaret Overton

A moving, witty, hopeful and occasionally frustrating memoir from an American doctor and writer.

 Good in a Crisis, rather than being an autobiography of Overton’s whole life, is a memoir that concentrates on her life after her divorce. Her husband leaves her and her two teenage daughters after cheating for ten years. In a new apartment with her younger daughter and ageing dog, Overton turns to internet dating to rediscover her confidence. Her recollections of the subsequent dates are mostly hilarious, as she finds that there really are quite a few screwballs out there. One does start to wonder why she goes through with some of the dates – she’s an intelligent woman and yet seems, frustratingly, to have next to no self-awareness when it comes to men and dating.
This isn’t just a dating memoir. Overton also writes about how, whilst she was recovering from the divorce, she discovered that she had a brain aneurysm which could have killed her, had it not been for pioneering and risky treatment. Her daughter had a serious accident whilst at college, her mother developed dementia following an operation and a close friend died, all in the space of a few years. Overton’s reaction to these life-changing events was to discover that, whilst as a doctor she knew how to take care of other people, she wasn’t great at taking care of herself. This, she decided, had to change.
 
I did think that Good in a Crisis was a good read. Overton’s writing is full of humour (and swearing), but it is also thoughtful and meditative. When it comes to writing about certain incidents, her style becomes very matter-of-fact. I suspect that this is a coping mechanism, as the events that she is describing are traumatic and obviously still painful, but it jars slightly with the overall tone. However, these somber parts are balanced by sections which made me snort with laughter. A thought-provoking book, but perhaps not as focused as it could be.
 
3/5 
 
EDIT: Overton’s own blog is interesting, especially the post on the Guardian’s choice of excerpt. Apparently I’m as guilty as them for referring to the book as a dating memoir. I do understand why she would say that it is about surviving a near-death experience, but there are a lot of dates… 

This book was provided for review purposes by www.welovethisbook.com.

 
 

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