Tag Archives: Review

The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls by Anton diSclafani

riding camp

Publisher: Tinder Press

ISBN: 978-0755395170

Publication date: 6th June 2013

Anton diSclafani’s debut novel is gorgeously-written, as I’ve come to expect from Tinder Press, and one that I devoured in a weekend.

Set in 1930, at the beginning of the Great Depression, the novel opens with 15 year old Thea Atwell arriving at The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls in the mountains of North Carolina. She is dropped off by her father who hurries back to Florida, leaving Thea feeling distinctly out of place. Coming from an unusually insular family and used to seeing only her parents, her brother and occasionally her aunt, uncle and cousin, the number of girls at Yonahlossee stuns her.

Negotiating the complicated relationships within the camp is made slightly easier when she is befriended the extremely rich and popular Sissy, and helped further by her skills on horseback. She is a daring natural horsewoman who prefers horses to people, and whose reluctance to stay within the rules of the camp come to the fore when she is riding.

There is an underlying mystery about why Thea was sent to Yonahlossee, a secret which is revealed gradually in flashbacks to her life in Florida, at her family home among the orange groves. The secret, when it finally comes to light, isn’t unexpected and yet somehow doesn’t feel like an anti-climax. The quality of diSclafani’s writing is such that, although the pace of the story is slow, even languid at times, the narrative doesn’t flag.

Thea is a brilliantly-realised character: self-assured and detached but also rebellious and passionate, fighting against the restrictions placed upon her both at home and at the camp. She is mature far beyond her years and yet still very much a teenager. One of the relationships that she develops at Yonahlossee might raise an eyebrow but the way that diSclafani set it up stops it being beyond the realms of credibility. The details about the Depression, with some girls being taken away from the camp as their families lost everything, and Thea’s family forced to sell the house she loves, add a sense of tension and highlight the uncertainty of the situation.

I loved The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls. It has fabulous writing, real emotion, a boarding-school vibe, a bit of mystery and horses – in short, it’s the grown-up version of my favourite childhood books. 

4.5/5

Thanks to Tinder Press for sending me a review copy in return for an honest review. 


Amity and Sorrow by Peggy Riley

Amity and Sorrow

Publisher: Tinder Press

ISBN: 978-0755394364

Publication date: 28th March 2013

There aren’t many books that can be described by the hashtag #GodSexFarming, but Tinder Press’ second title is one of the few. Peggy Riley’s debut novel is fascinating and disturbing look at how hard it can be to escape from a former life.

It opens with a car crash. Amaranth has been driving without sleep for days, trying to get her two daughters, Amity and Sorrow, as far away as possible from their previous home. As the first wife of a charismatic preacher at the heart of a polygamous cult, Amaranth has first-hand experience of the effect that her daughters’ father can have on people and when a mysterious fire rips through their compound, she gathers her strength and the girls and drives with no real idea of a destination.

The crash occurs just outside a farm owned by Bradley, a taciturn divorcee who lives with his aged father and surrogate son, Dust. Against his better judgement, he finds himself sheltering the three escapees, two of whom have never before experienced life in the  ’real world’. Amity tentatively embraces her new life, enjoying the novelty of being free to venture further than she had previously been allowed, but Sorrow fights it at every opportunity. Convinced by her father that she is ‘chosen’, she shows definite sociopathic tendencies as she attempts to destroy any happiness that her sister and mother find away from the compound.

Life within the cult is revealed in a series of flashbacks, revealing  Amaranth’s history and her reasons for marrying the preacher in the first place, as well as highlighting the complicated relationships, friendships and rivalries between the many women all ‘wedded’ to the same man.

Riley’s prose is lyrical and gorgeous, with descriptions that frequently made me pause and re-read. There is a particular passage where the women are spinning around in celebration that highlights Riley’s skill with cinematic imagery and also gives a suggestion of the appeal of living with so many other people who are linked by a common belief. Most of the sections of the novel set in the compound are dark and disturbing so these tiny moments of light really shine through.

The novel is a both a slow-burner and a page-turner; parts are hard to read but I couldn’t turn away. Amity and Sorrow was one of the best books I read last year and I’m thrilled that it’s finally out in the wild!

4.5/5

Peggy Riley will be appearing on the blog in April and there might even be a giveaway so keep your eyes open.

I was sent a review copy by the lovely Tinder Press in return for an honest review – thanks guys.


Tell The Wolves I’m Home by Carol Rifka Brunt

tell-the-wolves-im-home-978144721853101

The beautiful cover of the hardback

Publisher: Pan Macmillan

ISBN: 978-1447202141978-1447202141 

Publication date: 14th February 2013 (paperback)

My favourite book of 2012, Tell The Wolves I’m Home, is out in paperback today so I thought I’d post the review I wrote for the lovely Lizzie over at These Little Words, as part of her ‘Best of 2012′ series, in December.

Set in the mid-1980s, Carol Rifka Brunt’s novel is a hauntingly gorgeous debut. When June’s uncle and best friend, the renowned but reclusive painter Finn Weiss, dies of a mysterious disease, she is devastated. In the early days of AIDS awareness, the stigma attached to it means that no-one will talk to June about Finn, and she cannot reveal why she is as upset as she is. When Finn’s partner Toby gets in touch with her and explains that he misses Finn as much as she does, she is prepared to hate him for occupying part of Finn’s heart that she had thought was all hers. As they get to know each other, she and Toby realise that Finn has been more cunning that they gave him credit for.

What makes the novel so fabulous is the quality of the writing. There are paragraphs that I had to read several times because the writing is so gorgeous, and June’s narrative voice is pitch-perfect. Insecure, baffled by her sister’s distance and somewhat isolated from her schoolmates, she thinks that she has hidden her greatest shame, her love for Finn, from everyone, not realising how obvious it was to those who mattered. She is self-aware enough to admit that there are less than altruistic motives to some of her actions, but at other times her naïvety is immensely touching. She is brave and imperfect and is my favourite ‘heroine’ since Cassandra Mortmain.

It’s been several months since I finished reading Tell the Wolves, and I still get emotional thinking about June, Toby and Finn. Carol Rifka Brunt has a beautiful way with words and a real knack for getting inside the heads of her characters, and I very much hope that she won’t make us wait too long for her next novel.

tell-the-wolves-im-home-978144720214101

The equally lovely paperback cover

5/5

Huge thanks to the publisher for sending me a review copy of the book.


A Treacherous Likeness by Lynn Shepherd

treacherous likeness

Publisher: Corsair

ISBN: 978-1780331676 

Publication date: 7th February 2013

Tom-All-Alone’s was one of my favourite books of 2012 so I was really excited to see that Lynn Shepherd’s third novel also featured Charles Maddox, the detective and great-nephew of the ‘great thief-taker’ from Murder at Mansfield Park. 

Shepherd’s previous book ended with a man leaving a card for Charles and the elder Maddox being taken ill. When Charles returns the call, he finds that he is visiting Lord Percy, the only remaining child of  Percy Bysshe Shelley and Mary, author of the (in)famous Frankenstein who now, frail and elderly, lives with her son and daughter-in-law.The Shelleys want Charles to stop the publication of some letters which would harm the reputation of the dead poet, something that Lady Jane has spent years working to clean up. The letters belong to Claire Clairmont, Mary’s step-sister and one-time lover of Lord Byron, who is reviled and feared for the potential power she holds over the family.

Accepting what he believes will be a relatively simple commission, Charles once again finds that nothing is what it seems and that there is a lot more to the animosity between the two parties than the Shelleys had let on. Suspecting that his great-uncle knows more about the affair, he trawls through Maddox’s case notes from thirty years before whilst the man himself lies insensible, struck down with an illness that is mystifying the household. As Charles gets drawn further into the lies and intrigue that surround the history of Shelley, Mary and Claire, he discovers that there are many reasons that Maddox was so keen to cover up his part in it…

As with Tom-All-Alone’s, Shepherd’s research is impeccable. The atmosphere that she creates feels authentically chilling and she doesn’t shy away from describing squalor and seediness. The pace doesn’t flag throughout the novel and none of the multiple threads of the story ever feel confused or arbitrary. Despite the numerous narrative voices employed by Shepherd, all feel authentic and they work together to create an engaging whole. I particularly appreciated the introduction of Maddox Sr’s case notes as a way of enabling the use  of his voice whilst he is essentially out of action.

Charles is still a great character, naïve and street-smart in equal measure, able to conduct a complex investigation whilst being utterly unaware of what is going on under his nose. I defy anyone to read the novel and not feel an overwhelming urge to shake him several times. Shepherd excels at writing villains, and there are plenty to choose from here, from the unbearable Lady Jane to the twisted Shelleys, each seemingly as bad as the other. There are also genuinely moving moments, especially, as in the previous novel, those involving the fate of infants unfortunate enough to get caught up in the tangled relationships of the adults around them.

The notes at the back give suggestions for further reading and indicate the extent of Shepherd’s research and the love she has for the period. This is turning into a brilliant series and I’m really pleased that Shepherd’s next book will also feature Charles and his investigations.

4/5

Thanks to Corsair for sending me a review copy!


The Beauty of Murder by A. K. Benedict

beauty of murder

Publisher: Orion

ISBN: 978-1409144519 

Publication date: 14th February 2013

A K Benedict’s debut is a thriller set in Cambridge which combines murder with time-travel.

Stephen Killigan, a young lecturer just arrived at Cambridge, finds himself in the middle of a murder investigation when he drunkenly stumbles over the dead body of a beauty queen who disappeared a year earlier. The police look for the body and find no sign of it, and Killigan is suspected of either being a hoaxer or a madman. When the body of a young choir boy is found the day after he goes missing but looking as if he has been dead for a year, Killigan is upgraded from a hoaxer to a murder suspect.

Cambridge is a city with enough idiosyncrasies and history to make it an effective setting for a thriller like this, and the author’s knowledge of the city means that the level of local detail is impressive and adds to the atmosphere of the novel. The villain, Jackamore Grass, is well drawn – arrogant and intelligent, he has been waiting for a worthy opponent and, in Killigan, he thinks he’s found him. The use of the different voices throughout the novel keeps the narrative interesting and the plot zips along a good speed.

There were some niggles though – the occasional anachronism grates, especially as most of the novel was well-researched. Some of the characters seem a little flat and underdeveloped – the police inspector, Jane Horne, is a good example of this. There are some attempts to make her a more rounded character by giving her concerns beyond her job, but it feels a little perfunctory. The dialogue is sometimes forced and Killigan himself crosses the line between witty academic and pretentious twit more than once.

It is a largely well-written, easy to read and compelling thriller which would make a good introduction to a series, but isn’t quite as clever as it thinks it is.

3/5

I was sent a review copy by http://www.lovereading.co.uk in return for an honest review. A shortened version of this review also appears on that site.


The Snow Child – Eowyn Ivey

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?


Don’t Look Back by Karin Fossum

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 HeartFossum 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 MiceI’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


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,233 other followers