The Hollow (by Agatha Christie)

(Amazon UK link)

'The Hollow is a light crime fiction novel by Agatha Christie.

This book is set in 'The Hollow', a large upper-class country home, in the 1940s. Lucy, Lady Angkatell, is introduced as a vague but generous hostess. She is worried about her forthcoming weekend visitors. She describes them to her young cousin Midge, in a way that left me a little overwhelmed by the details - but as the book then switches to the points of view some of the guests as they prepare to drive to The Hollow, the cast soon fell into place in my mind.

Most of the guests are relatives of Lucy's, so they know or know of each other. The main focus is on David, a brilliant doctor, and Gerda, his rather plain wife who worries a great deal about him. Also introduced early in the book is Henrietta, an artist who is different in almost every respect from Gerda, and who is clearly very important to David too.

Lucy is planning a lunch party on the Sunday, to which she has invited her neighbour Hercule Poirot, who is probably the best-known of Agatha Christie's detectives. Inevitably there's going to be a murder; sure enough, one of the characters meets an untimely end just as Poirot is escorted to the poolside for pre-lunch drinks. At first he thinks it has been staged for his benefit - an actor with red paint dripping from his limbs, someone else holding a gun - then he realises with shock that someone has actually been shot.

Thereafter the book follows the investigations of the crime, starting with the most obvious suspect and then gradually moving to each of the other guests in turn. Prior to the murder, we saw into the minds of each of them to such an extent that I felt any of them could have been motivated to commit the crime; the question is, which one did? None of them is by character an obvious murderer. Poirot and the police ask questions, follow clues, and inevitably Poirot reveals 'who did it' in his usual masterly fashion.

I first read 'The Hollow' about two years ago, and thought it was quite cleverly done, although not one of Agatha Christie's best. I hadn't spotted most of the clues, nor had I worked out who the murderer was, but it all fell into place in the end.

Recently I picked the book up again to skim through, not remembering how recently I had read it, and to my surprise I had totally forgotten who had committed the crime. Usually with this type of book I can work out who the guilty person is at least a chapter before all is revealed, but this time I was as much in the dark as I was the first time, until a couple of pages before the denouement, by which time it was fairly obvious. Even then I had forgotten what happened at the end.

I don't think this is entirely due to my poor memory, nor to the fact that I didn't find the book all that exciting the first time I read it. Certainly I found that I remembered much of the plot; I even recalled some of the false trails that were followed in the solving of the problem, spotting considerably more clues than I did first time around. However I couldn't remember at all which ones were relevant and which were simply red herrings.

On the other hand, I found some of the early chapters a bit rambling. Agatha Christie's style can be crisp and fast-paced, but in this book I felt as if she wasn't quite sure where she was going at the beginning. I felt it could have been condensed somewhat.

Still, all in all a good light read without much gore. 'The Hollow seems to be continually in print, and is widely available second-hand too.

The land of green ginger (by Noel Langley)

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'The land of green ginger' is a delightful children's book by Noel Langley. It was written as a sequel to the classic fairy tale of Aladdin. We would probably call it 'fan fiction' in the 21st century.

The story starts on the day after Aladdin's son and heir is born. The opening scene describes the Special Meeting of State which has been called in order that a name can be selected for the baby. It's clear, right from the start, that this isn't a book to be taken seriously. For one thing there are rather a lot of Extra Capital Letters scattered throughout the book. For another, we quickly learn that the Grand Vizier forgot about the meeting he had summoned and arrived late after slipping on a mat.

The important ministers are busy sucking their pencils and trying hard to think of appropriate names, peering over each other's shoulders and bickering gently, when Aladdin is summoned by his mother, Widow Twankey. She complains that her new grandson has just called her a Button-Nosed Tortoise. Aladdin doesn't believe her, but to humour her goes to see the baby. He discovers to his amazement that his son can talk fluently, and moreover that he did say that his grandmother looked like a button-nosed tortoise.

Very worried about having a day-old child who can talk, Aladdin summons Abdul, the genie of the lamp, for the first time in many years. Abdul tells him that his son (who is to be called Abu Ali) is destined to break a spell when he comes of age. The spell has turned an eminent magician into a button-nosed tortoise, and he can be found in the Land of Green Ginger, a sort of portable back garden which flies around the world landing in different places.

That's chapter one. Or rather, Chapter the First: Which Explains How, Why, When, and Where There Was Ever Any Problem in the First Place. There are thirteen chapters in all, each of them with subtitles in the style of Victorian novels. Actually, the final chapter is not called the Thirteenth, but the Twelve and a Halfth.

Chapter the Second jumps forwards to Abu Ali's coming of age, where after further consultation with the genie Abdul, he sets out on his quest to rescue the magician. He also hopes to win the hand of the beautiful Princess Silver Bud of Samarkand. Lots of humorous adventures follow, as Abu Ali comes up against the delightfully wicked princes Tintac Ping Foo and Rubdub Ben Thud.

It's a children's book of course. According to my notation in the front of the book, I bought this when I was thirteen, and probably read it shortly afterwards. I read it again as a young adult, when I went through all my books and decided which were worth keeping, although it was then boxed away until my sons were about six and eight, when I read it aloud to them.

A confident reader of about eight or nine would probably be able to tackle this alone, although it's certainly not in easy-read vocabulary. But I really think it's best as a read-aloud book since there's so much humour and word-play. There are some delightful line drawings every two or three pages by Edward Ardizzone which complement the story beautifully, and which provided much focus for discussion when I read the book aloud to my sons.

A few days ago I wanted something light and non-gripping to read while I was making jam, and picked this book out of our shelves. I read it in about a couple of hours, all told - it's a little under 200 pages - and found slightly to my surprise that I enjoyed it as much as ever. There's a delightful irony running through much of the book which was probably lost on me when I was younger.

I particularly like the section describing Abu Ali as a young man. His 'Faults' include being good-natured, honest, considerate and sympathetic... indeed, quite hopeless! Obviously not usual Emperor material. I suppose he could have turned out to be rather a boring hero with all these qualities, but somehow he's very likeable, even before he meets the two contrastingly ultra-wicked princes who are to be his rivals in the hand of the princess.

There are some tense moments towards the end of the book when Abu Ali is imprisoned, and threatened with a horrible death. But it's a fairy-tale, a light-hearted story for children, so of course it's not going to end with the hero meeting an untimely end. Even my normally sensitive son wasn't scared by the visions of pots of boiling oil when I read the book aloud. I think I probably find it slightly more disturbing as an adult, knowing about the horrors that people can and do inflict in each other in real life.

Ideal for boys or girls, children or teenagers - anyone who likes fairy tales and happy endings, and a good dose of humour. While of course it's suitable for children and there's no hint of what we'd call bad language, I suppose some might object to the way the wicked princes keep fighting and calling each other names. One is tall and thin, the other short and extremely fat. We seem to have become over-sensitive to body shapes and sizes in recent years, so if you don't like the idea of your children calling a tall thin person 'bean-pole' or 'clothes-horse', or a short fat person 'pudding' or 'tub', then I suppose you might want to keep them away from this book.

'The Land of Green Ginger' was first published in 1966; my edition is a Puffin paperback published in 1970. Unfortunately, this version does not seem to be in print any more, although it's often found in libraries and can sometimes be found in second-hand bookshops.

Amazon sell a somewhat abridged version of the book, published by Faber Classics; I gather it's fairly well abridged, and retains much of the humour of the original, but that it's rather disappointing to people who remember the full version. Perhaps it was abridged to make it easier to read, or even more politically correct - but if you can get hold of the 1966 version, then that's the one I would recommend.

Moving pictures (by Terry Pratchett)

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'Moving pictures, the tenth book in the 'Discworld' series by Terry Pratchett, shows the author at his best, in my opinion.

This book tells the story of how movies arrived in the Discworld. The Discworld is Terry Pratchett's best-known creation: a flat world populated with - amongst others - granite trolls, bearded dwarfs, friendly zombies, as well as every conceivable type of human. They live (mostly) peaceably alongside each other, in a culture somewhat reminiscent of Mediaeval England. There are watchmen who call the hour (when they remember), dank alehouses, and a filthy river. Oh, and there's a university run by wizards with an orangutang as librarian.

There are also guilds, an attempt at organising the different craftspeople of the cities. This book particularly features the guild of alchemists, who have been experimenting on a new and highly explosive transparent filmy substance called octo-cellulose.

Since the Discworld has wizards and plenty of creativity, it also has a vast number of inventions which are easily recognisable to those of us from 21st century earth, cleverly powered by 12th century technology. Cameras, for instance, look somewhat like the box brownies of the 19th century, and work by having not brownies but bad-tempered imps inside them, painting pictures of whatever they see through the peep-hole.

So, when someone has the bright idea of using a team of imps, painting extremely fast onto octo-cellulose, the concept of 'moving pictures' is born. Salamanders - creatures who absorb light from the sun and then give out light when startled - are used in another box to project the images from the octo-cellulose onto a large screen.

There is no sound, and the movies (or 'clicks' as they're known on Discworld) tend to feature brave young men rescuing frightened maidens who had been tied to trees by evil monsters (generally trolls dressed up). This is a reference of course to the early black-and-white soundless melodramatic films made in the early part of the 20th century.

The moving picture industry converges on a previously deserted town called the Holy Wood but without anybody knowing quite WHY they're doing what they're doing. People arrive there as if called by an invisible voice, and every so often strange things happen. An actor suddenly finds himself passionately kissing a girl rather than simply untying her. A sausage salesman dreams of huge posters and dramatic advertisements. One of the wizards, for no apparent reason, fries some corn in a crucible with a plate on the top, and produces some rather tasteless white puffy things that he calls 'banged grains', and suddenly everybody wants to sell them to people watching the clicks.

That's really how this series of books works: brilliantly written scenarios that seem believable (well, somewhat believable anyway, given the conditions of the Discworld), with humorous references to circumstances on earth. The books are enjoyable and amusing even without knowing what all the references are, but all the more fun when the reader realises what is meant. In 'Moving Pictures' there are many references to classic films, some of which I can spot, others of which I didn't know about till reading online where there are sites dedicated to spotting them.

This book isn't just a clever play on words and situations, however. There's also quite a philosophical thread running through it, beginning with a very old man, the last remaining inhabitant of the Holy Wood before the movie industry arrives. This old man performs regular mystical chants, something he's done all his life, to keep 'something' from happening. He learned about this from the previous keeper, who learned about it from someone else... but there is nobody for the last keeper to pass on his knowledge to.

And so, something begins to emerge from the hills, when the keeper dies and the chanting ceases. Something which gradually infiltrates people's minds, and draws them in. Something which has 'memories', which makes people do the strange things they've never done before - and which work. It's quite an ominous force, the style is almost suspenseful in places. The inhabitants of Discworld are taken over by an unstoppable and destructive force, which creeps up on them slowly but inexorably. If it wasn't for the humour, it would be a little frightening.

We have all the Discworld series, collected over several years. Recently I've felt they tended to be a bit samey, churned out to satisfy the demand of customers. Not that any of them are bad, but somehow I feel they've lost most of the sparkle that seemed to shine through the books written in the late eighties and early nineties. However I love this book! 'Moving Pictures' is the ninth Discworld book, and one of my favourites.

Some characters appear in previous books, and some reappear in later books, but it's not necessary to know who they are to enjoy this one, which could well be read as a standalone novel. There are some classics: the sausage-inna-bun salesman Dibbler, who pushes his way into Holy Wood to become the equivalent of executive producer; the flea-ridden wonder-dog Gaspode who suddenly starts talking, and dreaming about rescuing people from burning houses. The hero of the book, Victor, isn't in any of the other books. He begins as a perpetual student wizard who never wants to pass his final exams, and then finds himself right in the centre of the moving picture industry.

Probably most Pratchett fans will have read this book before, but it's well worth a re-read. I first read it about ten years ago, shortly after it was published; recently I read it again, and found myself chuckling out loud at some places where I'd quite forgotten the clever allusions. It also provoked me to think about the whole movie industry - the way people get sucked in to glamour and pretence, maybe to escape from the reality of life.

If you haven't read Pratchett before, then you'd probably still enjoy this if you have any interest at all in the film-making world, or simply if you want a light read that's deeper than it seems at first glance. It's intended for adults, but teenagers often enjoy these books too. My sons started reading Discworld book from about the age of ten or eleven; they didn't understand everything in them, but that wasn't a problem, and they've re-read most of them as they've grown older.

Highly recommended.

Blessing the Church? (by Clifford Hill)

(Amazon UK link)

I've actually met Clifford Hill. He spoke at our church some years ago, and I found his talk very interesting. So when someone gave me one of his books, I was eager to read it, to see if his writing style was as good as his teaching.

'Blessing the Church?' is a fascinating account of the charismatic movement in the British churches during the 20th century. The book is an attempt to paint a fair and balanced picture of an issue which has caused deep division within the established church, and to show where something positive (the awareness of God moving in today's society) can sometimes branch out into potentially dangerous waters. It's actually written by four authors - mainly Clifford, but there are chapters by others, who are also known as authorities within the Christian world.

The first chapter gives a potted history of European society in general during the 20th century. It looks at the way we've moved from being a mostly family-based culture to one which is far more individualistic, and the way that hard work now seems to be considered a chore; moreover discipline of any sort seems to be considered old-fashioned. By the end of the 20th century we expected instant communication, microwaveable ready-meals, rapid transport, and any amount of entertainment at the switch of a button.

Probably more changes took place during the technological revolution of the last century than have ever happened in the world before. So it's not surprising, perhaps, that within many churches people have stopped wanting to study the Bible in depth and understand it in context; instead they expect instant answers, individual experiences, services that entertain rather than being challenging.

The book guides us through various moves of the Holy Spirit, including the charismatic renewal of the 1960s that swept aside many denominational boundaries, up to the early 1990s when the so-called 'Toronto Blessing' emerged in a Vineyard church near Toronto airport in Canada. Th author looks, in a balanced way, at what happened in various situations of (apparently) Spirit-led drama within the church - who was involved, how it started, what the result were. Many non-charismatics are critical of these movements, so it was particularly interesting to me to read the thoughts of someone well known as a charismatic believer.

The book has a surprisingly pleasant, easy-to-read style, and I found some of it quite gripping. I expected to read a few pages at a time over a couple of weeks, but I finished it in two days. I didn't find it at all heavy or deeply theological. Instead it focussed on common sense, on clear explanations of Biblical principles, and on the facts of what happened in the churches.

Plenty of names and places are mentioned; to me this suggests extensive and thorough research, and that the authors were totally sure about the claims they make in the book, some of them quite negative. If they were not certain, they could potentially have been taken to court for libel if their claims had not been true.

I found it a very revealing book. Much of what it said confirmed what I'd been feeling about some of the strange things emerging from some churches. I was also very interested in the parallels drawn between society as a whole and the microcosm of the church, progressing through the 20th century.

I'm not certain if I agree with everything that was said - but that's not a problem. The authors were quite willing to admit they might be wrong; they do not claim to be the final authorities. God is God, and he may sometimes surprise us. But for most of the book I found myself in agreement with the conclusions, even nodding emphatically as I read.

Definitely recommended.

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant (by Anne Tyler)

(Amazon UK link)

'Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant' is a novel by the popular American writer Anne Tyler. It was written in the early 1980s.

Pearl Tull is dying. She's eighty-one, and still in possession of her senses, although she finds it hard to speak. As she lies in her bed, she's aware of her middle-aged bachelor son Ezra; but as she's nearly blind, she can't actually see him. Her thoughts drift back to the past.

She thinks of her oldest son Cody, remembering how she and her husband Beck decided that one child was enough, until Cody developed croup. Back in 1931 it was quite a serious condition and they had decided it would be better to have another child, just in case something happened to Cody. However Cody lived, and after Ezra arrived they worried about him too, so Jenny was born.

Of course Pearl never stopped worrying about her children. She realised eventually that each child simply led to more worries rather than being a potential replacement for an older sibling. And as she ponders their childhood, she thinks back to her own life and the difficulties she had with the children, particularly after her husband Beck left her unexpectedly. Cody is an extravert, pushy and materialistic, who is nonetheless irrationally jealous of his younger brother. Ezra is a quiet, slow-moving person, who doesn't have an unkind word for anybody, although he can be extremely stubborn at times. Jenny is bright, efficient and mostly cheerful, loving both her brothers and often clashing with her mother.

And so the Tull family are introduced with their different personalities in the first chapter. The rest of the book follows them as they grow up. It's a nice example of a 'circular' novel: a book which starts with a situation (Pearl on her deathbed) and then back-tracks to events leading up to it, only returning to the original scenario in the final chapter. I used to find books of this sort frustrating. I would race through them, trying to find what came next, and would feel cheated if there were only a few pages coming chronologically after the first scene.

But as I've grown older, I've begun to appreciate this thoughtful style of writing which looks at people's backgrounds, and which doesn't give any big surprises at the end. Anne Tyler (a prize-winning American novelist) is an expert at this kind of character-based novel which gives readers a series of glimpses into the lives of ordinary people, made extra-ordinary by the astuteness of her observations.

One of the pieces of blurb on the back of the book announces that 'Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant' is 'Funny, heart-hammering, wise...' I think that's a bit of an exaggeration, personally. There's certainly some gentle humour in places, but nothing I would have called funny. Nor did I find any of the book to be 'heart-hammering'.

We know in the first chapter that Pearl lives until she's over eighty, that her husband vanished years previously, and that her three children have survived whatever illnesses and traumas they experienced as children, and are now adults. One is at her deathbed, another arrives soon afterwards, so they haven't even been estranged. There are a few mild tensions in the book, but nothing that made my heart speed up - and it doesn't take much for me to feel disturbed.

As for wise - well, there's certainly some wisdom in the writing, in the way Anne Tyler so cleverly draws the relationships within the family, and gradually reveals more and more depth to them. There's wisdom too in the gentle way she changes viewpoints, so we see differing perspectives without any abrupt break. The book starts with Pearl's thoughts, but gradually we see more and more behind the eyes of each of her children, and it works well. I could relate to Pearl as a generic mother, to Ezra as the quiet yet immovable character, and to Jenny as a busy, fairly helpful person. But I never did quite get into Cody's mind, nor understand his strange and sometimes irrational behaviour when relating to Ezra.

It's not gripping, it's not particularly moving, it's not exciting, and it's not particularly humorous. But it's well-written, it's a good reflection on family life, and it's a pleasant way to while away a few hours. It's based in the United States, but I didn't find that jarring as I do in some American novels. Overall I thought this a good book which I may well read again one day.

Recommended.

Bread alone (by Judith Ryan Hendricks)

(Amazon UK link)

'Bread alone' is an unusual novel by Judi Hendricks, also known as Judith Ryan Hendricks.

I really didn't expect to enjoy this book. It's not one I'd have chosen, as it's more-or-less in the 'chick-lit' genre, but someone gave it to me. So in an idle moment I picked it up, thinking it would while away a few hours over the next week or so....

I was pleasantly surprised. This is a charming book, the first novel by Judi Hendricks. It's told in the first person by Wyn Morrison, a young women in her late twenties who lives in California in the USA. As the book opens, she's about to attend an interview at a job recruiting agency, and we quickly learn that she's having problems with her seven-year marriage to David.

The time-frame moves forwards and backwards in a way that could be annoying, but it's so cleverly done using Wyn's memories and emotions that I didn't find it disturbing at all. A picture slowly emerges of a girl with a pleasant childhood until her father dies suddenly in her late teens. She had a happy marriage to a good-looking and successful businessman who really wanted a wife on display, to further his career and look after him. 

Wyn doesn't have much idea what she wants for herself in life, but she's basically quite contented with her lot. She sometimes finds David's business lunches and entertaining a bit overwhelming, but goes along with them since she loves him and likes being married to him.

But David has changed. He doesn't want life to continue as it has done, and he becomes too friendly with another high-flyer in his office. Wyn believes all his excuses about staying late for meetings, so when he announces one day that he wants them to separate, her world is torn apart. She has no idea what to do, but starts by going to spend a couple of weeks with her best friend in Seattle.

The book is about Wyn gradually coming to terms with herself, thinking about what she really wants, and learning to make a stand about things that matter to her. I found her very believable, perhaps because her character is rather like mine: primarily wanting peace and harmony, quite prepared to go along with other people's plans and trust them rather than risk conflict. Which of course can lead to ostrich-like behaviour, withdrawing or hiding in order to avoid problems.

The style of the book is typically American, reminding me a little of Anne Tyler in the racy, fast-paced descriptions and conversations. In the first few chapters I felt a bit of culture shock since everybody appeared to spend their time rushing around, going out to eat, or buying takeaways, or - at best - heating frozen pizzas in the microwave. A far cry from my own experience of home-cooked family meals.

But Wyn does these things because she has plenty of money, and because it's the way she's learned to live in her marriage. At heart she's a home-lover, and her passion is baking bread. And here's where this book stands out rather oddly from similar novels - it contains recipes. Not a large number; I think there were four in all, as well as some general explanations about how to make yeast starters, and how to make 'real' bread rather than the plastic sliced stuff sold by supermarkets.

I wouldn't have believed it possible to include recipes within a novel without a break in the story, but somehow Judi Hendricks does it. They sounded so good that I was tempted to leap up and bake them, but by that stage I was finding the story so interesting that I didn't want to leave it. I learned a lot about bread, and was inspired to read more about baking as a result!

There's a bit of humour, too. Wyn's style is understated, with irony and some wordplay. She doesn't think a lot of herself, and is surprised when other people actively like her. Of course I was rooting for her to get together with the right guy. Yes, there's a bit of love interest, and one or two mildly explicit scenes towards the end, although they too were tinged with humour.

In addition, it's a thought-provoking novel. Wyn has never had a very good relationship with her mother; when she remarries, Wyn almost feels betrayed as she had always idolised her father. But gradually she learns more about her parents' marriage, and this perhaps more than anything else enables her to grow up and become an adult in her own right.

The strangest thing of all is that the whole book is written in the present tense, yet I didn't even notice until I was over half-way through! I think this is because the first page has a date at the top ('Los Angeles, 1988') so reads a little like a diary entry, and then after the job interview it launches into Wyn's reflections about the past. It's the first book I've read which works - really works - in this tense, without in any way being distracting.

Who would like it? Probably anyone who enjoys character-based novels without a whole lot of action. But I think it has a wider appeal than that, too. Not if your choice of reading is horror or thrillers, perhaps, but then again - it's not quite like anything I've read before, switching as it does between reflections on marriage, family life, careers.. and baking. I think it would be ideal for reading on holiday.

Recommended.

Return to Drumveyn (by Alexandra Raife)

(Amazon UK link)

I have been enjoying Alexandra Raife's novels, and am gradually acquiring them all. Each is complete in itself, although 'Return to Drumveyn' includes some characters from previous books.

This one features Cristi, a young woman who was abandoned by her Brazilian mother when she was nine years old, when she was taken to live in Scotland with relatives of her mother's husband's first wife. She has been brought up as a beloved daughter in a farm community called Drumveyn, and has just finished an arts degree course in Edinburgh when she receives some startling news about her Brazilian family.

Until that point Cristi was completely estranged from her birth family, since her grandfather threw her mother out when Cristi was a small girl. She decides, in light of her news, to fly out to Brazil to meet her aunts and uncles. She hopes she might make contact with her mother, or possibly with the maid who looked after her until she was taken to Scotland.

The scene moves to Brazil, where Cristi discovers a completely different lifestyle as part of a wealthy landowning family. In one sense she's spoilt - able to buy anything she likes, with servants and chauffeurs to do her every bidding - but in another sense she feels trapped, missing the freedom she was used to, not able to wander around alone, nor expected to do any kind of work at all. She finds it disturbing too that she can't read the faces of her relatives, although she finds herself very attracted to her charming cousin Luis, who looks after her well.

So Cristi has to decide what to do. Should she stay in Brazil, living at the ranch as part of her genetic family, or should she return to Scotland to the people who brought her up?

Culture shock happens to her at two levels. Firstly there's a big contrast between the culture of a Scottish glen and that of a Brazilian city; secondly there's an even greater difference between a simple life on a farm, albeit with reasonable comforts, and the luxurious lifestyle of the rich. Her values become increasingly important to her as she has to weigh up the love of her adopted family against the strong pull of her nationality and the deep attraction she feels towards her cousin.

'Return to Drumveyn' is perhaps a bit over-crowded with characters and family relationships, particularly in Scotland where the author bases many of her books. Each novel she writes seems to pick up on a minor character from a previous one, and makes mention of people who were featured as main protagonists in earlier books. So there are quite a few to catch up on, as this is her ninth novel.

I've read all the others, although not recently, so I had a vague memory of who was who, and I still found the sheer number of people a bit overwhelming at times. I think this aspect could be really quite confusing for someone who hasn't read Alexandra Raife before. What's more, some of the returning characters seemed to me to be extraneous to the plot.

Still, it was a very enjoyable read. Cristi is a sound and likeable young woman with a good balance of strengths and weaknesses, and I could quite see why she falls for Luis the gorgeous cousin. He contrasts neatly with Dougal, the young farmer in Drumveyn who was Cristi's best friend all through her childhood. I could understand too how she is so struck with her Brazilian ranch, and how torn she feels between her genetic roots and her adoptive family.

Inevitably in a book of this length (it's about 500 pages) there are many subplots running alongside each other, and some controversial issues lightly explored. For instance, Cristi makes contact with an elderly woman who works amongst Brazilian orphan children, and learns a lot about the huge gap between rich and poor in that country. There's also an interesting thread back in Scotland where her adopted brother Nicholas decides he wants to meet his birth mother.

All in all, it's a book about integrity and family values, and although there are a lot of complex marriages and re-marriages referred to, and even a relationship triangle or two, I found it quite heartwarming. The blurb on the back says that it would appeal to fans of Rosamunde Pilcher, and I think that's probably true. Alexandra Raife doesn't write with the brilliance and astuteness of Pilcher, nor does she get in the skins of both the elderly and the very young. But her families are charming, her situations interesting, and the book is a pleasant read for a holiday or a peaceful weekend.

Recommended.

Stress Family Robinson (by Adrian Plass)

(Amazon UK link)

'Stress Family Robinson' is a light fictional novel by Adrian Plass. It's the story of the Robinson family, told by their fifty-something-year-old close friend Dip Reynolds. Dip is privileged to be almost part of the family, so much so that she sees them without their 'visitor' masks. She observes unwashed dishes and family squabbles, and sees both the advantages and disadvantages to family life.

The Robinsons are supposedly a typical family, although I find them a tad caricatured. Mike, the father, is mostly placidly laid-back. But every so often he decides the family needs more organising, and embarks on a campaign of list-making and rota-producing, which lasts all of 24 hours before he lapses back into the usual chaos. His wife Kathy is much more volatile, with a face that displays every hint of emotion, usually either despair or delight.

Mike and Kathy have a 19-year-old son Jack who's caught at the end of being a teenager and the start of being an adult, a 14-year-old son Mark who's a typecast sullen self-centred teenager, and a six-year-old daughter Felicity who's delightfully innocent and loving.

As the book opens, the Robinsons are about to go away on a three-week trip to America. Dip, going to help them with last-minute packing, finds them panicking because they haven't even started, and then going through what Felicity calls the 'Packing Argument', which apparently takes place prior to every holiday. This consists of Mike suggesting a structured and organised method of sorting out the suitcases, followed by Kathy rejecting his idea as impractical, and then saying she'll do it all herself.

Eventually they get away, leaving Dip to look after their home, and feed the stick insects. She also has to solve a big problem: a rather easily hurt friend rings, and makes it clear that she and the Robinson family are supposed to be having a meal with him that evening, to celebrate his fiftieth birthday. Dip doesn't know what to say - the Robinsons being on their way to the airport, and clearly having forgotten all about it - and ponders telling a 'white lie'.

This is a straightforwardly told story, with a no-frills approach that's surprisingly endearing. Dip is an unmarried upright sort of lady, who (we gradually learn) is deeply lonely inside and longs to be loved. Every so often she reveals that she still has fantasies - mostly of a chivalrous nature, though not entirely - and that she finds it difficult to show her true feelings. The more she gets involved with the Robinson family, the more they help each other in being honest and open.

It's also a Christian book. Adrian Plass is one of the best-known modern Christian authors; the Robinsons are a church-going family with a real belief in God, but they fail totally to live up to what they see as 'ideal' Christians. As such it's a valuable book for Christians, getting inside the skins of real (or almost-real) people, showing that it's quite possible to love Jesus and still make a lot of mistakes. The teenagers fight with each other, and Mark often argues with his mother. Felicity asks pointed questions (why do they only say 'grace' before a meal when they have special visitors?) and Mike exasperates Kathy by suggesting that they pray when she wants to shout and scream.

It's a humorous book too. One of Adrian Plass's hallmarks is to use his dry sense of humour to demonstrate people's weaknesses gently, and to show how ridiculous some situations can be. For instance the Robinsons sometimes find themselves in the middle of a heated argument, getting angrier and angrier, shouting accusations against each other... having completely forgotten the initial trigger for the argument. Ahem. Rather pointed.

Finally, it's deeply thought-provoking. Dip has always longed to have children, so she delights in being able to spend some time taking care of Felicity, who adores her. But the enjoyment goes along with deep responsibility: what should she say when Felicity is distraught after falling over in a race at school Sports Day? Should she murmur platitudes, or give a lecture about how the important thing is to take part and that winning doesn't matter? As a parent myself I was impressed with the way Dip deals with Felicity on this and many occasions in the book, and the humility with which she admits her own failings.

There's not a whole lot of plot. The theme is Dip learning about family life while revealing some of her insecurities, and considering whether at some point she might go and live with the Robinsons. But there are plenty of incidents and a lot of deep conversations. Family relationships are explored in a variety of ways, although I have to admit that the number of dramatic situations in a short space of time made it feel a bit more like a TV soap than anecdotes from a real family.

Who would like it? Initially I thought that almost anybody who was interested either in Christianity or family life in general (or both) would enjoy this book as a light-hearted probe into the things that make different people tick. My teenage sons have read and enjoyed it, although I doubt if it would be of much interest to anyone under the age of about eleven or twelve. But I know of one or two people who I expected to like it who found it too emotional, or totally unrealistic.

I've read it three times myself since it was first published in 1995, and was pleased when a sequel ('The Birthday Party') appeared a couple of years ago. But I don't find more in it each time, as I do with some books. Instead it's a light read that takes a few hours, which I can pick up or put down as I want to.

Still, I would recommend it if you would like something undemanding with some good insights into family life.

You can also read my latest review of 'Stress Family Robinson' on this blog, after re-reading in 2010.

The silver chair (by CS Lewis)

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(Amazon UK link)

The silver chair' is the sixth in the 'Narnia' series of books for children, written by CS Lewis.

The story opens with Jill Pole crying behind the school gym, because she has been bullied. No, it's not a school story, as the author hastens to reassure us. This is just the background to Jill starting to talk to Eustace Scrubb, another pupil in the school.

Eustace used to be a most unpleasant child but recently has become much nicer. Out of curiosity she asks him what made him change, and he tells her a strange tale about being transported to another world with his two cousins.

The bullies discover where Jill has been hiding, so she and Eustace run away, and to their amazement find themselves somewhere totally unexpected, near the top of a high cliff. Eustace is terrified of heights, but Jill - who has no such fear - goes close to the edge, and disaster ensues... or so it would seem.

Jill is told that she has been brought to this place for a quest: to find a missing prince. To do so, she is given four important instructions, which she must learn and repeat daily, and follow absolutely. Then she is taken to the country of Narnia, where she and Eustace are given plenty of advice, and taken to meet one of my favourite characters in fiction: Puddleglum the marshwiggle. They set out on their journey, and several adventures follow.

This is a children's book, only 200 pages long, but as with all the best children's books it's just as enjoyable for teenagers or adults, and can be enjoyed at many levels. The adventures are exciting and fast-moving, as the children meet - amongst others - giants and a witch, but the characters are a great deal better developed than those in many books of this length. Eustace and Jill aren't nasty children, but they squabble and bicker, and inevitably forget about their instructions when more interesting distractions come their way.

Puddleglum is a wonderful character. Marshwiggles are not-quite-human people who live in the marshes in Narnia, eating eels and living in wigwams, observing the world from a generally pessimistic viewpoint. Puddleglum reminds me rather of Eeyore in the 'Winnie-the-Pooh' books, with his constant depressing observations combined with a determination to look on the bright side, for the sake of cheering everyone else up. One of my favourite lines occurs when the three travellers are standing at the top of a cliff which has a river running along the bottom of it:

'The bright side of it is,' said Puddleglum, 'that if we break our necks getting down the cliff, then we're safe from being drowned in the river.'

I'm not sure that young children would appreciate the irony in such humour, but as an adult I thoroughly enjoy it.

As with all of CS Lewis's fiction, 'The Silver Chair' can be read as a straightforward adventure quest, or as a simple battle between good and evil, or as a story with underlying allegorical meanings. The Christian analogies aren't so obvious in this as they are in some of the others; as a child I wasn't really aware of them at all, but they're certainly there. The most obvious one is that of following the given instructions, even when they don't seem to make sense, rather than being tempted by the comforts and pleasures that the world has to offer.

This is the sixth in CS Lewis's 'Narnia' series for children of which the best-known is 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe'. Although each of them could be read as a standalone book, it's probably best to read 'The Silver Chair' directly after 'The Voyage of the Dawn Treader', the book which describes Eustace's first journey to Narnia, and his gradual change to a nicer person.

The intended audience is children of about eight and above, and this is probably about right from the point of view of the average level of children reading to themselves. The vocabulary isn't difficult, but it certainly isn't simple and a beginner reader might struggle to understand it. Of course a fluently reading younger child could easily tackle this, and it makes an excellent read-aloud book.

However some parts are quite frightening for a sensitive child, so I'd recommend parents reading it first to check suitability. I didn't read it myself until I was about ten, and I found it a little scary even then. My sons were six and eight when I read it to them, and while the six-year-old loved it (and read it to himself shortly afterwards) my older son found it a quite disturbing. So I had to be careful not to read it at bedtimes.

Definitely recommended.

Coming Home (by Rosamunde Pilcher)

(Amazon UK link)

'Coming Home' is a saga novel by Rosamunde Pilcher, one of my all-time favourite writers.

It's the kind of book that doesn't fit easily into a genre. It's perhaps primarily a coming-of-age book. But at the same time it's a historical novel set initially in the prelude to World War II, and it's also something of a family saga. It's the third of Rosamunde Pilcher's long novels (over 1000 pages in paperback) and unique amongst them in that it focuses on a young girl rather than an elderly lady, and is based in the 1930s and 1940s.

The novel opens with Judith, an independent and sensible girl in her teens, preparing to go to boarding school as her mother and little sister Jess depart to live with her father in Singapore. We see the world through Judith's eyes, and I found her easy to relate to as she deals with the pain of saying goodbye, and the feeling of disorientation as she spends her term-time constantly with other people, and then her holidays at the rather bleak house owned by her Aunt Louise.

Teenage issues are lightly and sensitively touched upon, although they would probably seem unbelievably naive to a teenager today. For instance, Judith at 14 knows almost nothing about sex, so when she comes across a classic dirty old man she has no idea what he wants, but is terrified and feels violated, leading to nightmares that haunt her for years.

Judith settles fairly well into life at her new school, making friends with a 'landed gentry' family who invite her to spend a weekend with them, and who become the main focus of her life until she leaves school. She also decides to make the best of her time with her aunt, until tragedy strikes out of the blue, and she must uproot yet again. Throughout the book there's an underlying theme of Judith's need for a permanent home, although she's not the kind of person who's always longing for things to be different. Indeed, she's a matter-of-fact girl who takes life as it comes, and seems to exert a positive influence on most of the people she meets.

When she leaves school, just under half way through the book, World War II is just beginning. Judith has to make some difficult decisions - whether to go out to stay with her family, as planned, or to remain in the UK and take up war work. She gradually becomes more responsible and mature, learning about love and men in mostly gentle ways, with heartbreak along the way. But still there is a longing deep in her heart for somewhere she can call ‘home’. How her longing is resolved, and how the various sub-plots come to conclusion, is the topic of this thought-provoking book which delves into the heart of Britain in war-time. Perhaps a little slow-moving to start with, it soon becomes exciting and un-put-down-able.

The first time I read 'Coming Home' (probably about six years ago) I didn't like it as much as Rosamunde Pilcher's other novels. This is partly due to the war background, which is realistically described where appropriate, and partly because it took a while to get going. I found myself skimming descriptive sections, and then horrified at some of the things that happened to Judith. One of my personal nightmares is the thought of leaving a child not just at boarding school, but the other side of the world, without any contact other than letters for four years or more.

However I recently decided to read it again, and this time - knowing roughly what would happen - I took it more slowly. Even with several hours free at the weekend (and I read fairly fast!) it took me about six days to finish. While I still wouldn't rank it quite with the other saga novels by this author, I enjoyed it a great deal more than I did last time.

Reading more carefully than I did the first time, I could see how cleverly the author  builds up to the various events, slotting Judith's (fictional) life in seamlessly with real events from history. A fair number of letters are included in the book, describing events from different perspectives, and one of them is credited as having been based on a real letter written at the time, describing an actual escape from a dangerous situation.

There are several other significant characters in the book, most of whom Judith meets while staying at her friends' house. Rosamunde Pilcher is a wonderful observer of human nature; she brings everyone to life without apparent effort. Each one felt realistic to me, despite being set in a period before I was born, and mostly moving in the kind of circles I've never met.

There's some inevitable class distinction between the wealthy upper-middle classes and the people who work for them, but it's gently done; the nanny is called by her first name and eats with the family. The nearby farmer's son goes riding casually with the daughter of the household, who rather despises her brother's dull boarding-school friends.

Also of course it provides sound historical background to World War II, a period which Rosamunde Pilcher lived through at similar age to Judith. Indeed her schooling, training and war experience were remarkably similar to Judith's. This is no doubt why the book feels authentic rather than heavily researched; just the right amount of naval or military detail is included where appropriate, rather than an overwhelming amount of information.

All in all, I'd recommend this to anyone with interest in the war years, or to anyone (adult or teenager) who enjoys character-based family novels with a fair amount of action. While there is some romance, it's fairly low-key and mostly secondary to Judith's need for security and a home. The ending is perhaps a little too tidy, but I don't find that a bad thing; I'm not keen on books that leave me wondering what on earth will happen.

Definitely recommended.

If you prefer a film to a DVD, then 'Film review: Coming home' is my review of the three-hour TV drama version of this book, produced in 1998.