Tag Archives: Relationships

March 13, 2013

Life After Life by Kate Atkinson

By bibliomouse

Life-after-life-cover

Publisher: Doubleday

ISBN: 978-0385618670

Publication date: 7th March 2013

Since winning the Whitbread Prize for her debut novel, Scenes From The Museum, Kate Atkinson has become a familiar name on bestseller lists, both with her detective series featuring Jackson Brodie and with her standalone novels. Her latest novel has been eagerly awaited by many and, although many much-hyped novels turn out to be a slight disappointment, Life After Life is definitely not one of them.

A baby is born on 11th February 1910 in a the midst of a snowstorm, strangled by the umbilical cord. She dies instantly. She is born again, in another life, and lives to be named Ursula Todd, the ‘Little Bear’. Ursula will die several times throughout her childhood, but each time another Ursula will use the “awful sense of dread” that she experiences on occasion to learn to avoid death, and darkness, for a little longer.

For the first part of the book, the chapters are short and cyclical; with each death, the narrative returns to 11th February 1910. Ursula is forced to resort to increasingly desperate measures the ensure that darkness will not fall on her young life again, at least not in the way that it has done before. By the time that World War I is over she has negotiated her way through a maze of both real and potential deaths, including drowning, falling and Spanish ‘Flu. Life is not easy for the Little Bear.

Atkinson never shies away from writing painful scenes and the situations that Ursula faces as she gets older are sometimes horrific, especially during World War II, when she both becomes, and doesn’t become, a warden with the ARP.. Ursula’s experiences in the aftermath of air raids highlight the oft-forgotten, crucial, and frequently gruesome, part that women on the Home Front played in the war.

Ursula is a wonderful character – intelligent, measured, occasionally impulsive, fallible and utterly human. It’s almost impossible not to be affected by some of the decisions that she makes, knowing that they will lead to her death, but it’s also fascinating to see where the alterations that she makes in the next version of her life will lead her. There is only one occasion in the novel that she chooses the darkness over life and it’s all the more moving because it’s the only choice left available to her.

Atkinson doesn’t neglect secondary characters, and it’s easy to love Ursula’s favourite siblings, Pamela and Teddy. Atkinson is a master of playing with perceptions and delaying truths until she feels the time is right for them to be revealed. This means that although the  fates of most of the characters stay the same throughout Ursula’s many lives, it isn’t always easy to predict what these fates will be.

In the hands of a lesser writer, Life After Life could have been terrible –  cliché-laden, repetitive and sensationalist. However, Atkinson has a skill for creating complex narratives peopled with very human characters, and for writing with a warmth which can make the most disturbing of situations readable. This is a novel in which the main protagonist dies several times, often in horrible ways. That it is a hugely life-affirming read is a testament to the talent of it’s author. I’m gushing now but it’s hard not to. The book is brilliant. Go, read it.

5/5

Many thanks to the publishers for my review copy. Needless to say, I’ll also be buying the hardback! This review was originally posted at http://www.forbookssake.com.

8 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in British, Reviews

August 30, 2012

The Snow Child – Eowyn Ivey

By bibliomouse

Publisher: Headline Review

ISBN: 978-0755380534 

Publication date: 30th August 2012 (paperback)


I wrote the review of The Snow Child months ago and for some reason it was never posted. As the paperback is out today, it seemed  fitting time to finally publish this!

The Snow Child is the story of Mabel and Jack, a middle-aged couple who left their comfortable lives in 1920s Pennsylvania and moved to the Alaskan wilderness to start a new life, alone. They are trying to escape the grief of having a stillborn child ten years before, but they cannot outrun their sadness and they find themselves growing apart as they struggle with their new life. Jack is working himself to the bone as he battles the elements and the land in his attempts to grow enough food to see them through the winter, whilst Mabel is feeling increasingly trapped in their cabin as she waits for Jack to come home each night.

One evening, as the first snow of their first winter starts to fall, Mabel is overcome with memories of how it was in the beginning of their relationship, how hopeful and happy they both were and she rushes outside. Her sudden joy is infectious and the pair of them build a snow-girl, complete with a carefully carved face and red woollen mittens and scarf. In the morning there is nothing left in the snow apart from a trail of tiny footprints heading towards the woods. When Faina, a tiny delicate girl wearing red mittens and scarf, appears in their lives, they start to wonder exactly where she came from, and if she is even real. Has she been conjured by their longing for a child, or is she another inhabitant of the frozen woods, drawn to the warmth of the cabin like the bears?

I’m not going to say much more about the story itself, except it’s as harsh and beautiful as the writing.* Eowyn Ivey has lived in Alaska for most of her life and she has a simple and stark style which is perfectly suited to descriptions of the vast, unyielding wilderness and the pioneer life that Jack and Mabel are attempting to live. The descriptions of the environment around Wolverine River are terrifying in their bleakness, but also vivid – as someone who’s never visited Alaska, I feel as if I can really  imagine the wilderness that confronted Ivey’s characters, which is a testament to the quality of the writing (visiting Northern Norway last year also probably helped a little in terms of huge expanses of frozen land.)

Based on an old Russian fairy-tale, Snegurochka, Ithe Snow Child is a work of magical realism which brilliantly walks a fine line between being magical and realistic. It is also a stark reminder that, despite the common wish to have a ‘fairy-tale ending’, very few fairy-tales have a truly happy conclusion.

*You might need a tissue. Especially you, Mum.

I was sent a review copy but all the views are my own and I wasn’t paid for the review. Actually, someone sent me a copy to my home address, which is a bit of a mystery. Can someone own up please?

2 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in American, Recommended, Relationships, Reviews

August 2, 2012

Don’t Look Back by Karin Fossum

By bibliomouse

Publisher: Vintage

ISBN: 978-0099452133

Publication date: 3rd July 2003 (paperback, translation)

I’ve read lots of Scandinavian crime fiction in the last couple of years – Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö, Jo Nesbø, Stieg Larsson, Camilla Lackberg and Yrsa Sigurdardottir to name a few – but Karin Fossum had passed me by until recently. Don’t Look Back is the first of her novels to be translated into English, although it is her second novel featuring Inspector Sejer, and it won the Glass Key Award in 1997 for Nordic crime writing.

Set in a small town north of Oslo, at the foot of Kollen Mountain, the novel starts with a terrifying scenario – six-year old Ragnhild accepts a lift home from a strange man who promises to show her th baby rabbits at his house. Soon the police are with the girl’s distraught parents, when she arrives home, unharmed. The release of tension when she turns up is immense, only to be shattered a few pages later when Inspector Sejer gets a phone call about a dead body that was found lying by the lake by the search party hunting for Ragnhild.

The dead girl, fifteen-year old Annie Holland, also lived with her parents in the town. A promising athlete and good student who regularly babysat for some of the town’s younger children, she seemed on good terms with everyone who knew her, although she has been withdrawn for her last few months. Initially there are few clues and, as with many small towns, everyone thinks that they know each other, but Sejer and his young assistant Jacob Skarre start to uncover the many secrets and tensions brewing under the seemingly calm surface of the community.

This is definitely a book for fans of the police procedural, and maybe not one for lovers of frenetic action and dramatic chases. Sejer and Skarre painstakingly interview Annie’s friends and neighbours, slowly gathering evidence about her murder, and several suspects emerge as they talk to people. Can Annie’s ex-handball coach explain why she quit the team so suddenly? Why What is Annie’s backpack doing in her on/off boyfriend’s shed? What is Annie’s mother’s first husband hiding? Annie’s death is not the only crime to have taken place in the town of  Granittveien.

I really enjoyed Don’t Look Back, despite its pace being a little slower. This pace actually suits Fossum’s wonderful inspector, Konrad Sejer, who is steady, intelligent and thoughtful without being boring. He has recently been widowed and missed his late wife terribly, lives alone except for his dog, and has a grown-up daughter and a grandson, Matteus, of whom he is very fond. I was afraid that starting with the second book in the series might mean that  it would be hard to get a sense of his character but Fossum is very good at small details which make her characters come alive and I get the sense that we will learn a little more about Sejer, and Skarre, with each novel.

Fossum’s excellent characterisation is also used to convey the devastation caused by Annie’s death. Her family are very well drawn, from her superficial and rather stupid elder half-sister to her rather hideous mother, but it is her father whose reaction to her death is the most upsetting. As with Susan Hill’s portrait of grieving parents in The Pure in Heart, Fossum has created a compelling and heart-rending picture of a distraught father who is struggling to deal with the loss of his child and the changed dynamic of his family.

If you want an excellently-written detective novel with elegant writing and clever characterisation, I would recommend Don’t Look Back. Don’t expect a cheerful read though – there is a quiet sense of sadness that pervades the whole book, though, and the ending is as chilling as that of  Gordon Reece’s Mice. I’m looking forward to exploring more of Fossum’s writing, starting with the first in the Sejer series, In the Darkness, which was published in July.

4/5

1 comment   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Detective/Crime, Recommended, Reviews, Scandinavian

July 12, 2012

The Pure in Heart by Susan Hill

By bibliomouse

Publisher: Chatto and Windus

ISBN: 978-0701178949

Publication date: 2nd June 2005 (paperback)

The second in Hill’s crime series featuring Chief Detective Inspector Simon Serrailler, The Pure in Heart is another assured piece of sensitive and absorbing writing. Called back from a holiday in Venice when his severely disabled youngest sister, Martha, contracts pneumonia, Simon finds himself heading up the investigation into the disappearance of a nine year old boy, David Angus, who has vanished without a trace. Glad to have something to distract him from the feelings that last year’s shocking murder stirred up, Simon throws himself into the case with the help of Nathan Coates, newly promoted to Detective Sergeant.

As with The Various Haunts of Men, this novel concentrates more on the community of Lafferton and its reaction to the crime than actual police work. Simon himself is far more present in this novel than the first in the series, and he reveals himself to be highly contradictory. He can be generous, lively and amusing but also cold, distant and intensely private, which causes problems when Diana, a woman with whom he had a casual affair in past years, develops possessive tendencies despite his indifference and, indeed, disgust.

Cat Deerbon, Simon’s sister, is the heart of the novel. Pregnant with her third child, she finds herself deeply upset by David’s disappearance, especially in addition to her family’s own situation with Martha. The disintegration of David’s family is also profoundly affecting. The portrait of a grieving family is shown in such intimate detail that it feels almost voyeuristic. Details such as his mother adding cold water because she shouldn’t be allowed the luxury of a hot bubble bath whilst her son is missing are brilliantly and sensitively observed.

As readers might have gathered, it’s not a cheerful book and although I didn’t personally find it as upsetting as The Various Haunts of Men, I can imagine that anyone with children might find the descriptions of David’s captivity and his mother’s grief highly emotive. However, the quality of Hill’s writing prevents the depiction of such naked emotions from feeling gratuitous. There are many loose ends remaining at the end of the novel and this might be frustrating to some readers; for me, it just made me hanker for the next book  (which, luckily, was waiting for me on the bookcase). The Pure at Heart wasn’t as satisfying as Serrailler’s first outing but, as one in a series, it’s a excellent read.

4/5

This review was originally written for New Books Magazine September/October.

1 comment   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in British, Detective/Crime, Recommended, Relationships, Reviews

July 9, 2012

The Various Haunts of Men by Susan Hill

By bibliomouse

Publisher: Chatto and Windus

ISBN: 978-1856197144

Publication date: 3rd June 2004 (hardback)

I recently agreed to review the second in Susan Hill’s Simon Serrailler series for a feature in New Books Magazine, with a really tight deadline, thinking that I’d read the first book already. It turns out that this was completely imagined and the 560 pages of The Various Haunts of Men were still to be tackled. I have to admit that I was a little daunted at the prospect – I’ve read so many crime novels recently that the idea of reading two more in a fortnight wasn’t exactly appealing. However, I prefer to read series in order so I picked up Simon Serrailler’s first outing and got on with it.

As so often happens, I’m really pleased that I did. Much like Ruth Rendell, who is quoted on the front cover, I loved this book. I should have known that it would be excellent as the other two books by Hill that I’ve read have both been brilliant. The Woman in Black was a novel thrust upon me when I was about 12 as a set text at school and I liked it then; I’ve read it since and picked up so much more atmosphere and detail than the first time around.  Similarly, Strange Meeting was a text on a World War I module for my BA and, despite it being one of several novels that we had to read, it was the one which I’ve since re-read for pleasure. Hill’s writing is always a joy to read and often belies the horror of her subject matter.

Set in the fictional cathedral town of Lafferton, The Various Haunts of Men is ostensibly about the disappearence of a middle-aged woman who vanishes one foggy evening. There are few leads as Angela, the missing woman, lived alone and kept very much to herself. Once these leads dry up, the case is downgraded in priority and only Detective Sergeant Freya Graffham thinks that there is more to the case than meets the eye. She is proved right when there are more disappearences, although the missing persons have nothing to connect them other than vanishing whilst up on The Hill. D.S. Graffham, along with her Detective Constable, Nathan Coates, is determined to find out whether Lafferton has its first serial killer.

I’ve read reviews of this novel which criticise it for the slow pacing and, whilst I recognise that this isn’t the most rip-roaring of novels, I do think that those reviewers are missing the joy of Hill’s writing and plotting. Although the crime aspect kept me interested, the real point of the seems to be the way that the reader gets to know the town and its inhabitants, many of whom will be featured throughout the series.

There’s Angela Randell, who lives alone but is in love with a mystery man for whom she buys expensive and, potentially, inappropriate gifts; Debbie Parker, a depressed young woman who seeks answers in the alternative therapies on offer in nearby Starly, and her flatmate Sandy who worries about her friend being taken in by charletans. Karin McCafferty, a professional gardener, discovers she has cancer but refuses her doctor’s advice and also turns to  alternative medicine, and Dr. Cat Deerbon who has to find the line between being Karin’s doctor and her supportive friend, as well as dealing with tensions surrounding the increase in  Cat’s mother Muriel, herself a retired doctor, is heavily involved in local activities and it is through the choir that she meets Freya Graffham, recently moved from London after a messy divorce. Freya discovers that she already knows Muriel’s son, Simon Serrailler – he’s her D.C.I., and she is also, inconveniently, in love with him. All of these characters are vividly brought to life and, although some are featured more heavily than others, none feel redundant or superfluous.

It’s the strength of Hill’s characterisation and the sense of community that it invokes which makes the crimes in the novel so affecting. And they are emotional, from the disappearances of characters that the reader has come to care about to the shock ending. Ah, that ending. If anyone remembers the first ever episode of Spooks they might know what I mean when I say that the denouement of this novel was shocking. I think it’s fair to say that I was a wreck by the end of the novel, and Mr. Mouse had serious reservations about me reading any more of the series. To be fair, even thinking about Bambi makes me teary, so I’m not the best measure of  the emotional power of anything, but I’d definitely advise you to have tissues to hand when approaching the ending.

I don’t really have anything bad to say about The Various Haunts of Men, which is slightly dull – sorry! As mentioned in my post about my favourite books of the first 6 months of 2012, I promised myself that I’d finishing writing this review before reading The Risk of Darkness, the third in the series. That didn’t happen, mainly because I just couldn’t not read it once it was on the bookcase. Bearing in mind the size of my TBR pile, this says a lot about this series. One word of warning – I would strongly recommend reading these in the correct order as I think the emotional heft would be lessened otherwise.

Go! Read!

4.5/5

3 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , , | posted in British, Detective/Crime, Relationships, Reviews

June 30, 2012

My Favourite Books of 2012, so far.

By bibliomouse

I can’t believe it’s almost July – how did that happen?  (Yes, I realise that it has a lot to do with time passing, so no pendantry please!) I’ve picked some of my favourite books of the year so far – 6 were published in 2012 (well, 5 really, but the paperback of Drowning Rose was in 2012 so I’m counting it) and 2 are rather older, but it was high time I discovered them. As always, I’ve been far better at reading than I have at writing, so only 4 of them currently have reviews, but the others will be coming soon.

Tell The Wolves I’m Home by Carol Rifka Brunt

I finished this during the week and I don’t think I’ve recovered yet. Set in mid-1980s America, when people with AIDS were vilified and feared, it’s the story of June and her friendship with her late uncle’s partner, Toby. Many novels are described as ‘beautifully written’, but this one really does have moments where the writing stops you in your tracks because it’s so gorgeous and heart-breaking. I’ll be writing a full review of this soon, but it had to have pride of place in my ‘novels of the year so far’ list.

The White Lie by Andrea Gillies

This was the first book that I reviewed for For Books’ Sake and I was so lucky to get it. An elegant and fascinating tale of family secrets set in the Highlands of Scotland, you can find my full review here.

Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel

There isn’t much I can say about Wolf Hall that hasn’t already been said, but I’m so annoyed with myself that I took so long to get around to reading it! I can’t wait for the library to have Bring Up The Bodies in stock.


Drowning Rose by Marika Cobbold

Another of my reviews for For Books’ Sake and another fabulous book. Cobbold has a real skill for characterisation and I loved the grown-up Eliza. See my full review here.

Tideline by Penny Hancock

A review copy sent to me Simon and Schuster, I had no idea what to expect from Tideline, but I was really pleasantly surprised when I couldn’t put it down. The proper review’s here.

The Various Haunts of Men by Susan Hill

I’ve been struggling with the review of this one for weeks now. I thought that it would be a well-written crime novel and wasn’t, in any way, prepared for the emotional impact that it would have. The first in the series of novels featuring Simon Serrailler, I would strongly recommend reading this before any of the others. I’ve told myself that I’m not allowed to read the third in the third in the series until I finish the review of this one, so it should get written very soon! (EDIT: the review’s here now)

Heart-Shaped Bruise by Tanya Byrne

This is a fabulous Y.A./crossover novel, both gritty and emotional. Told through diary entries, it is the story of Emily Koll, an inmate awaiting trial at the Archway Young Offenders’ Institute. Emily is mouthy, cynical and troubled but ultimately sympathetic. Read the full review here.

The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey

I can’t believe that I haven’t reviewed this yet, I really thought I had. This will be remedied soon, as it’s a lovely book which is soon to be out in paperback. Reminiscent of icy fairy-tales, it’s the tale of a middle-aged couple who have moved to Alaska to find peace and the mysterious girl from the woods who befriends them. It is lyrical, sparse and as icy as the landscape. (EDIT: the review’s now here).

So there we go, my favourite books of the year so far. I know it’s cheating to include two books that weren’t published this year, but I just loved Wolf Hall and The Various Haunts of Men too much to leave them out. I hope that the rest of the year is as enjoyable as the first half has been!

3 comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in Lists, Recommended, Reviews

May 14, 2012

The Sick Rose by Erin Kelly

By bibliomouse

 

Publisher: Hodder

ISBN: 978-1444703856

Publication date: 29th March 2012 (paperback)

I reviewed Erin Kelly’s first novel, The Poison Tree, last summer and, whilst I could see the strength of the writing and plotting, I just wasn’t overcome with enthusiasm for it (unlike almost everyone else who reviewed it, I must add). It was a different matter with her second novel, The Sick Rose, which I found to be far more enjoyable.

Kelly weaves her tale from three different narrative threads, which come together in a genuinely shocking climax. The two main characters are Louisa and Paul. Louisa is a 39 year old expert in rare plants working at Kelstice, a fictional country house in Warwickshire, restoring its neglected garden to its former glory. Paul is a 19 year old petty criminal who arrives at Kelstice to join its other youths there on community service. However, his participation is slightly different – he has been placed 300 miles away from his home in Essex, in the hope that he won’t be tracked down before he can testify at his former friend’s murder trial. The tentative and risky developing relationship between Louisa and Paul is told in one of the narrative threads, set in 2009/10.

The two other narratives are flashbacks, showing Louisa and Paul in their former lives. Louisa’s strand shows her in 1989, as an 18 year old who shuns university to work on a market stall selling alternative remedies in Kensington Market. She meets her match in Adam Glasslake, whose death she is still mourning in 2009. Paul’s flashback tells of his early teenage years, from his witnessing his father’s death, which leads to a crippling phobia of blood, to his ‘friendship’ with Daniel. It’s this relationship which both led Paul into the world of petty thieving, and also to Kelstice, as he ran from Daniel’s father Carl.

Both main characters are well-drawn, especially Paul, who is a believable mix of the childish and the mature. As a boy who had to look after his mother after his father’s death, he grew up quickly, in some ways, but occasionally the fact that he is only 18 come shining through, making him seem vulnerable and real. The slow feeling of suffocation that he feels as Daniel and Carl invade more and more of his life is vividly described and provide a powerful contrast to the feelings of freedom that he feels at Kelstice. I felt that the character of young Louisa was similarly well developed, especially in terms of her jealousy and the all-consuming nature of first love. The older Louisa, however, felt slightly less convincing. She is almost 40 but still acts like a teenager for much of the time. This does reflect the fact that she shut off emotionally when her love affair with Adam ended in tragedy, but is a little distracting.

As regular readers will know, one of the things that annoys me most is a disappointing ending. So many thrillers are fantastic until the last couple of chapters, where everything suddenly speeds up and ends up feeling rushed. Thankfully, Kelly has avoided that and the denouement is satisfyingly shocking (and surprisingly emotional). The epilogue felt a little contrived, but I’m so happy that the climax was not condensed into one chapter that I’ll put that down to the semi-Gothic tone of the novel.

 I enjoyed The Sick Rose and would recommend to people looking for a psychological thriller in the Barbara Vine mode.

3.5/5

Thanks to the author for sending me a copy of the book. All views are mine and I wasn’t paid for the review.

Leave a comment   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in British, Psychological, Reviews

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,233 other followers