The adventurers (by Jane Aiken Hodge)

(Amazon UK link)

It’s a long time since I last read my collection of books by Jane Aiken Hodge. That’s a good thing, as it means I’ve forgotten almost everything about them. Having said that, it’s over twenty years since I last read ‘The adventurers’, but I did recall, vaguely, a horrific massacre at the start. 

The book is set in 1912, during Napoleon’s retreat from Russia. It’s not a period of history that I’m very familiar with, and anything related to war and armies tends to go slightly over my head. So it’s a testament to the author’s writing and characterisation that I read and - on the whole - liked this book despite so much war talk.

Sonia is the main protagonist. She’s a feisty young woman, just about finished with her schooling, and very fond of her governess Miss Elizabeth Barrymore. We meet her as Elizabeth - or ‘Barry’, as Sonia calls her - is trying to find her. Sonia is hiding in a barn, and hears her governess talking to her father. She is still grieving for her only brother, who was coerced into signing up for Napoleon's army a year earlier, and was killed.

There’s sudden pounding at the door, with angry, wounded French soldiers bursting in… and the massacre that I remembered begins. Thankfully there’s no gratuitous detail, and Sonia manages to keep her presence a secret since she knows there is nothing she can do. Hot on the heels of the French come an army of Cossacks, who proceed to destroy whatever is left. 

When all is quiet and the soldiers have left, Sonia surveys the devastation. It looks as though everyone is dead, and the house ransacked. She knows that she can’t stay there, and is relieved to find that her pony is still in its paddock. So she dresses in her brother’s clothes and hacks off her hair. Then she collects a few supplies, saddles the pony, and sets off to try to reach the safety of her aunt’s house. She doesn’t like her aunt, but as far as she knows, she’s her only possible refuge.

Then she loses her way, and has to stop at an inn. She meets another traveller, Charles Vincent, and agrees to partner him in a game of whist against some other patrons of the inn. She’s a very good player, and they manage to win quite a bit of money. Inevitably he discovers that she is not a boy, but suggests that they travel together, pretending to be cousins. He says she will be safer with him, and instinctively she trusts him.

That’s just the first couple of chapters; most of the book covers their travels, along with another companion whose presence is a happy surprise to Sonia (and to me, when I came across it). Charles is quite generous, but evidently has more to him than mere adventuring. He won’t say who he’s working for, and is often rather scathing about Sonia - and she, in her turn, is quite rude to him. Evidently, I thought, according to the principles of romantic fiction (even though the romance is a small part of the story) they would eventually fall in love with each other.

It’s an exciting story, with a lot of tension and narrow escapes. Sonia is plagued by memories of the massacre, which forced her to grow up in a very short period. Charles sees her as his responsibility, but loyalty to his chiefs comes first, and she finds this difficult to take.

The book is set firmly in historical context, with famous characters from the era being involved alongside the fictional ones, and they blend harmoniously, so much that I didn’t always know whether someone was a historical personality, or someone from the author’s imagination. She had a gift of characterisation, making likeable but flawed people who feel very real. She also leaves us to guess, along with Sonia and her companion, whether Charles really can be trusted.

Later in the book there are some rather unlikely coincidences: two people meet, who once had a close relationship that was severed. And, even more unlikely, one of the characters turns out to be the son of another… But while I was reading, it all feels believable and almost inevitable. The writing is excellent, the research impeccable. There’s sufficient conversation and character interaction that I didn’t have to understand all the war news and why there was so much danger, although I did take a break to read up, briefly, about this period of history.

All in all, I enjoyed rereading this, and would recommend it to anyone who likes realistic historical fiction. Sadly Jane Aiken Hodge’s books are long out of print, but they can sometimes be found in second-hand shops - which is where I acquired most of mine, over many years.

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

We solve murders (by Richard Osman)

(Amazon UK link)

On the whole, I enjoyed the first three books I read by Richard Osman, in the ‘Thursday murder club’ series. However, I didn’t plan on getting the fourth, and wasn’t even aware that he had written a book in a different series until it was chosen for the December read in our local book group.

‘We solve murders’ has a large cast of characters, and I found it quite confusing at first. The chapters are short, and at the start of the book, new people are introduced every few pages. The main character is a young woman called Amy who is the bodyguard to a well-known writer called Rosie. Rosie’s life has been threatened, so she and Amy are staying on a remote island, along with another bodyguard called Kevin.

But the prologue of the book introduces, in italics, a rather detailed way of staying anonymous and hidden online, and mentions the name of Francoise Loubet. And the first chapter is rather gruesome, telling us about Andrew Fairbanks, who was a low-key influencer who finally becomes internationally known after being murdered at sea. 

And then, after a chapter involving Amy and Rosie, we meet Steve. He is probably my favourite character in the book. He’s a retired policeman who still observes (and notes down) everything he sees. He’s quite comfortable living a routine life, knowing what’s coming, and looking after his cat. He still talks to his late wife, whom he misses very much. And he’s Amy’s father-in-law. His son Adam (ie Amy’s husband) works abroad and doesn’t communicate much with his father. But Amy calls Steve to chat, every week. 

Then yet more characters are introduced: Jeff, the CEO of the company that Amy works for, and his PA Susan. Henk, Jeff’s former close friend and associate, who now works for a rival company. And they’re not all. While I mostly remembered these folk who we meet early in the book, I found it hard to keep track of many of the others. 

We soon learn that two other influencers, in other parts of the world, were also murdered… and there are clear similarities, suggesting one person behind them all. But different people were involved, although Amy was not far away from any of them. And then Amy’s life is in danger, and the plot follows a lot of flying around the world, hiding in different locations, foiling potential assassins and more. It’s a tad confusing at times, and feels a bit caricatured, with cartoon-like escapes. 

I felt a bit tense once or twice, with no idea who Amy is supposed to trust - suspicion falls on just about everyone other than her father-in-law. But there were times when I really didn’t know what was going on - viewpoints switch so rapidly that there’s no chance to get to know anyone in depth.

It’s not unusual for thrillers and murder mysteries to have rather two-dimensional characters, but there are usually hints making it clear who can be trusted. In this book, I couldn’t work anything out myself; instead I was told what Amy was thinking, or what other characters elsewhere were doing. The only person who seems to use any real deduction is Steve, and even then we don’t know what he’s seen or thought until he expresses it to someone. I didn’t much like Amy, who is tough and violent, and quite coercive too. 

I realise that this is probably supposed to be a caricature of the rich and wealthy, with money-laundering and other criminal activities going on unseen and uncaught. But a lot of it doesn’t ring true. Perhaps I’m too sheltered; I’ve never met anyone like any of the people in this book, as far as I know. And (other than, perhaps, Steve) I don’t think I want to. I also felt that, while the money-laundering aspect might be realistic, the number of shootings was too high. I never really worked out the motivation for any of the deaths. 

The threads of the story gradually come together as we are told who is genuine, who is pretending to be someone else, and who really can be trusted. There’s a good pace to the writing, and it’s not a difficult read. I quite like the author’s turn of phrase, but I didn’t find any of the humour that his other series displayed. 

I’m glad I read this book. It’s certainly different from my normal genre of fiction, and part of the reason for our book group is encouraging us to read books outside our comfort zone. But I don't think I will be looking for others in this series. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Soul keeping (by John Ortberg)

(Amazon UK link)

I have very much appreciated the books by John Ortberg which I have acquired over the years. He is an American pastor with a sense of humour, and (in my view) an excellent balance in his beliefs. There are some of his books which I read quite a while ago, so I’m now - gradually - rereading them. It had been over eight years since I read ‘Soul keeping’, so I’ve just reread it over the past ten days or so.

It’s a very thought-provoking book, in my view. It covers some rather deeper issues than the author’s other books, and as such is, in places, rather heavier than is usual with Ortberg’s writing. But he does it very well, and I am very glad that I’ve read it again.

The book is about looking after our souls - and there is some discussion, early in the book, about what a soul is. It’s not something that can easily be defined; we can’t see our souls, or measure them. Some would deny that they exist. Some confuse them with our will or spirit, and sometimes people use phrases like, ‘poor old soul’, to refer to an individual. That’s perhaps not far from reality, according to Ortberg, since he sees our souls as the entirety of who we are: more than our minds, bodies and wills, and yet not tied to any of them. 

As the book progresses, the author takes several trips to visit his friend Dallas Willard, who was his mentor and inspiration for some years. I haven’t read many books by Dallas Willard, but Ortberg isn’t the only writer to have been inspired by him. And I was particularly struck by his phrase, ‘The ruthless elimination of hurry’, which is the title of a book I read a few months ago - and which, I just remembered, had an introduction by John Ortberg.

But ‘soul keeping’ is not just about slowing down. It’s about looking after our souls in a variety of ways. There is a chapter pointing out how difficult it is to do so in today’s busy, technology-filled noisy world. Our souls are often forgotten in our day-to-day lives, and it’s all too easy for them to shrink, to become damaged or broken. Metaphorical language, to be sure, but I found it resonated all too well. 

The second - and main - part of the book focuses on what our souls need, and I found these chapters particularly relevant. Our souls need us to look after them, and they need a sense of centering on God as often as possible, remembering whose we are. Our souls need time to rest and relax, and freedom from the opinions and judgement of others. And so much more. We’re encouraged to ‘bless’ rather than ‘curse’ other people - to wish them well, and encourage them rather than being critical or boastful. And the final chapter in this section reminds us of the importance of gratitude in our daily lives, rather than feeling as if we’re entitled to more. 

Alongside the teaching sections of the book are further anecdotes, some relating to the author’s family and other situations, and some to his repeated journeys to visit Dallas Willard. Dallas grows older and frailer, and yet stays constant in his positive, joyful attitudes. The last chapters remind us that there’s a ‘dark night of the soul’ that can affect people in different ways, and that if we’re going through this kind of thing, it’s not our fault.

It’s a book for Christians, but could be of interest to people on the fringe, or who are interested in knowing more about what a soul might be. There are many quotations and examples given from the Bible, which mentions the soul a surprising number of times; Ortberg takes his principles and definitions from the Bible, while setting his recommendations and advice firmly in the 21st century.

All in all, I thought this an excellent read, one I would recommend to anyone interested in the health of their soul.

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Good Omens (by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman)

(Amazon UK link)

I first read ‘Good Omens’ by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman back in the mid-1990s. I then read it aloud to my sons, who were teenagers at the time, in 2000, and we all enjoyed it very much. Since then it had sat on our shelves, borrowed several times by various friends, but not something I felt like rereading again.

Then, a few months ago, we watched the excellent adaptation of ‘Good Omens’ with David Tennant as the demon Crowley, and Michael Sheen as the angel Aziraphale. As far as I could recall, it kept very close to the book, although with a twenty-five year gap I couldn’t be certain. So I decided I should read the book again.

Due to the popularity of the series (which aired on BBC 2 as well as Amazon Prime video), the plot is probably well-known. There are several different strands to the story, as was common with Pratchett’s writing, and it’s a bit confusing, at first, working out what’s going on. It starts with a mix-up in a hospital - the baby destined to become the antichrist is given to a random British couple, who call him Adam. Their baby is given to an American diplomat and his wife. This section was followed very closely in the TV series.

We meet Crowley and Aziraphale and get some idea of their off-on friendship/rivalry, but without the different scenes over the millennia that the series was able to do. I’m not sure I ever had much of an idea of what either of them would look like when I first read the book, but although I’m not a visual person, I was definitely imagining David Tennant and Michael Sheen in all their scenes. Both the angel and the demon are unaware that the babies have been switched, and don’t realise their problem until eleven years later, supposedly a week before Armageddon, when a hound dog from hell is supposed to find his master…

Then there’s Anathema Device, an American witch who is descended from another witch called Agnes who wrote a book of extensive prophecies. These prophecies are called ‘nice and accurate’, and - when understood in more up-to-date situations - have all come true. Anathema has followed guidance in these prophecies to move to the UK. She has rented a cottage in the village where Adam and his family live, as that’s where she was guided, though she has no idea that he is supposedly a foul fiend. 

Finally there are four ‘horsemen’ - or, since it’s the 20th century, motorbike riders - who appear now and again. War is an angry woman, who travels around inciting anger and violence, though nobody realises that she is responsible. Famine looks like a sleek businessman, and has built up quite a business in junk and ultra-processed foods that make people obese without nourishing them. He also offers popular diet plans. The third rider, Pollution, has replaced the classic Pestilence, and revels in ordinary dirty and rubbish. And the fourth rider is familiar to Discworld readers. 

Adam, without either demonic or angelic prompting, has grown up to be an ordinary, creative and sometimes badly-behaved boy with a strong leadership ability. He has three close friends, and is the recognised (though unofficial) chief. This is mainly because he has the best ideas and the most persuasive arguments. He’s also kind, with a strong sense of justice. He’s very keen on ecology and saving whales, and other good causes. 

The book takes us slowly through the last week as the end of the world approaches. It’s clear that this is going to be a battle between the angels and the demons, primarily, although neither Aziraphale nor Crowley are keen for it to happen. They’ve both become quite fond of the earth in the millennia where they have been there, living in human form, and neither wants to see a lot of violence.

I knew, of course, that everything would be averted at the last minute; that Adam would surprise all concerned by his plans, if he were to rule the world. Having seen the TV series recently, I recalled quite a bit of the plot and some of the details. But I enjoyed rereading it again, perhaps understanding some of the complex scenes a bit better for having watched the adaptation.  There are some extra scenes in the TV series which were not in the book, and I can see why they were included, but the book is complete in itself.  

There are, as was typical with Terry Pratchett, several subtle (and not-so-subtle) references to literature or history, or similar; I smiled a few times, and almost laughed aloud at an unexpected reference to an old nursery rhyme. I appreciated the odd humorous moment in what was, at times, quite a tense book. 

Of course it's not to be taken seriously - this is essentially science fiction, after all. But there are Biblical references amongst the other literary ones, and the authors evidently had at least some understanding of the book of Revelation. While it might seem, at first glance, to make something of a mockery of it, there are some important and thought-provoking aspects for anyone wanting to look more deeply at the book. 

Definitely recommended. 'Good Omens' has been reprinted several times, and can often be found lurking in second-hand bookshops. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

An accidental life (by Titia Sutherland)

(Amazon UK link)

I’ve been rereading my collection of novels by Titia Sutherland which were published in the 1990s over the past six months or so. It’s nearly two decades since I last read ‘An accidental life’, so - unsurprisingly - I had entirely forgotten what it was about. As I’ve liked the other books by this author very much, I was looking forward to read it.

However it has a most depressing opening chapter. Some men have been out hunting - and I have never begun to understand the appeal of this violent activity. So I was quite ready to sympathise with Philip, whose stomach is turned by the dead animals shared around. He’s evidently rather low, and in his ponderings we learn that he’s had to hide something from his wife and family. And then he does something drastic…

The action then switches to Ellie, recently widowed and quite angry about it. She rejects the idea of an accidental death, and is convinced her husband was having an affair. She was an actress before marriage, but never very successful. Now she teaches English and drama at a local convent, and finds it very fulfilling. 

Ellie has three children: Cassandra, who is a university student, Luke who is seventeen and retaking an A-level, and nine-year-old Harriet. Cassandra has a memory of something she has hidden from everyone, and often seems to clash with her mother. Luke is rather depressed, and not sure he wants to study music although everyone else expects him to, and he’s evidently quite talented (though not brilliant). And Harriet refuses to believe that her father is dead…

Ellie’s brother-in-law Alex is an executor, and half in love with her too, though he tries to hide it. And there are other local friends who play their parts; Titia Sutherland had quite a gift for characterisation, and I didn’t have any trouble recalling who was whom.

The story is cleverly written, with many flashbacks into the past taking up whole chapters. They’re mostly Ellie’s memories, as she thinks about her marriage. She was very happy in the early days and not sure she wanted children, although she has also found motherhood quite rewarding. I found the pace good, and the people mostly believable, although I felt frustrated that they weren’t more open with each other. Evidently they got under my skin.

The writing is good, and the story eventually reaches its conclusion. But I felt that it took far too long for Ellie to understand what the reader knows from the first chapter. I began to wonder whether she would ever work it out. She knew something was wrong, but seemed to hassle her husband rather than encourage him to talk, and be willing to listen.

I also found it rather a depressing story.  With all the secrets and half-truths, characters misunderstand each other, and the tragedy is perhaps inevitable - but it feels, now, a bit dated. The knowledge would still be shocking to someone like Ellie, but I think less likely to lead to shame or the need to hide, even thirty years after publication. 

But even given the rather less accepting era and the society in which Ellie and her family move, it’s not a pleasant topic for a novel. I didn’t like the first chapter, and I was shocked at an incident towards the end, which seems entirely unnecessary to the story, and really not needed for the development of the character concerned. 

So while I liked some of the people, and found it very readable, I’m not sure I’ll want to read this again. Perhaps I will, in another decade or so. I have recommended the other books by Titia Sutherland, but really wouldn’t recommend this one. Then again, I liked it very much when I first read it… 

Maybe the author was experimenting with something heavier than her other books; I don’t know what reception it had when it was first published. She didn’t write any more, as far as I know, and her books are now out of print (though fairly readily available second-hand). 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews