'A small part of me' is a modern novel by Noëlle Harrison.
Christina is a small girl of nearly seven when her mother leaves, and does not return. She is comforted by Angeline, someone whose presence is rather ambiguous but becomes clearer through the book.
The structure of the book is a little confusing at first, switching as it does between Christina's childhood and her adult life when she herself, separated from her husband, has only limited access to her beloved children. It also changes viewpoint, mainly - in the early part of the book - that of Christina herself and her absent mother Greta.
The chapters are short, labelled only with the person whose perspective is being taken for the next few pages; the time-frame for each can only be told from context.
I found 'A Small Part of Me' very readable, the kind of book I kept picking up when I had a few moments free. When Christina embarks on a search across the Atlantic for her long-lost mother, she also begins an internal search for her own identity. There are some moving, bittersweet moments, and a climax to the book which I didn't expect - yet it worked, making room for Christina's growing understanding of who she is, and who she cares about.
It's a gentle book on the whole, character-driven and relationship-centred with strong themes involving motherhood, and the imprint our childhood leaves on our adult lives. Yet there are also underlying deeper themes: of mental illness, and addictions, as well as the pain of being abandoned, and the hurt that often comes from the breakup of the nuclear family.
Definitely recommended, if you like this kind of book.
My slightly longer review of 'A small part of me' is here at the bookbag.
This is an excellent book by David Seamands, slightly soured as I write this entry by the discovery, on trying to find a web-site about him, that he admitted (in his eighties) to an adulterous relationship over many years. A reminder, I suppose, that we're all prone to failure, and I have no wish to judge him.
The problem is that this book, 'Putting away childish things', is about getting rid of old behaviour. It explains the importance of developing more mature attitudes, taking the mind of Christ and resisting temptation. Yet its date of writing (1982) was apparently when he was still involved with this other woman.
I've also found sites claiming that what Seamands suggests in this book is dubious, even occultic. So while I would have wholeheartedly recommended it until a few minutes ago, I now have serious reservations.
Nonetheless, I thought it an excellent book. The author takes the theme of putting aside our childish emotions that make us prone to extreme anger, sulking, resentment and the like. He suggests that when we over-react to something in adult life, it may well be as a result of some false message we heard as a child - and which needs to be healed by the Holy Spirit.
This seems entirely reasonable to me, and fits with what I've sometimes observed. It also fits with popular psychology (but then some fundamentalist Christians believe that to be occultic too. I disagree).
The book looks at what it means to have a hidden child within, at some of the 'mottoes' people carry around from their childhood, that cause them damage, at childish ideas of God and prayer, and childish concepts of the self. Then it suggests ways of surrendering these to the cleansing power of God, and moving forward to healing and wholeness.
I cannot see how these ideas could be harmful. On the other hand, given that David Seamonds apparently didn't follow his own principles, I'm not as enthusiastic about it as I was when I finished the book this morning.
Out of print but occasionally available second-hand. There's a workbook too with similar cover, so make sure you don't buy that by mistake if you don't already have the original.
This is a modern novel by Stevie Davies, a highly acclaimed writer although I had not previously come across her.
The Eyrie is a mansion converted to flats, on the South coast of Wales. The residents include the three main characters of the book: Dora, Eirlys and Hannah. The book takes the perspective of each of these three in turn, as they interact, think about the past, and come into contact with other residents.
Red Dora has had a dramatic and exciting life including fighting in the Spanish civil war. At ninety-three she is beginning to realise that her body is old and cannot last forever. And she has never quite come to terms with the untimely death of her only daughter.
Eirlys is a classic middle-aged motherly type who has never married or borne children. She's at the beck and call of her relatives, and likes to look after everyone else in The Eyrie. Hannah is the newest resident when the book opens, a young woman who has escaped from a dull marriage.
I really wanted to like this book. During the first few chapters I felt quite encouraged. Whereas some writers insist on filling in every detail of their characters' lives in the early chapters, Stevie Davies does not. She plunges right into Dora's thoughts, Hannah's arrival at The Eyrie, and evidence of Eirlys's motherly nature. This lets the reader observe and get to know them as they are. The past is only mentioned when relevant to the storyline; the conversation flows without feeling artificial.
But... I simply couldn't warm to any of the characters. With some authors I feel drawn into stories right from the start, feeling the emotions of the people, gravitating to books any time I have a free moment. That didn't happen with 'The Eyrie'. I kept it by my bed, and read two or three chapters each evening, but by about half-way through it began to feel like a chore rather than a delight.
Not that there was anything to dislike, but there was also nothing that really interested me. There's quite a strong political element to the book, which felt like a not-very-hidden agenda. I wouldn't have minded if the people had been more sympathetic, or if it had been written in the ironic and acerbic style of Anne Tyler - but it wasn't.
It was fairly interesting to read of an elderly woman with a such a colourful past. Yet the theme is rather discouraging: no matter how much we stand up for our principles, no matter what excitement and thrills we have in our younger days, we all - if we last long enough - become old and frail, subject eventually to the whims of our younger relatives.
Still, it's not a bad book. If you want something to while away a few hours that can be put down any moment, and see it on your library shelves, then by all means try it.
The book 'One heart full of love' contains the transcripts of several talks and interviews by Mother Teresa, mostly in the 1970s.
I have a huge admiration for this wonderful lady who did an amazing work around the world with the poor, and established so many excellent ministries. So I found it interesting to read in her own words what she believed, and why she did what she did.
Mother Teresa evidently had a clear sense of vocation, and a longing to do God's work. She also had a deep commitment to the principles in the well-known parable of the sheep and the goats where Jesus says, 'I was hungry and you fed me... ' and that anything we do for the least of people we do for him.
But Mother Teresa does not come across as pushy. She doesn't expect everyone to join her in her work; she insists that there are poor people everywhere, including many who have plenty to eat and good homes but do not feel loved. She wants everyone to fulfil their own vocation, which may simply be loving and providing for one's family. She doesn't ask for money - she insists that God provides all the time - and she was clearly a humble, caring and dedicated person.
So I did get a good impression of Mother Teresa. This despite my Protestant background and beliefs meaning that I hesitated a little when she talked of specifically Roman Catholic doctrines. But I skimmed most of those, which were far fewer than the more broadly Christian principles she clearly espoused.
Unfortunately, the book itself gets a bit dull by around half-way through. No doubt each of the talks was inspiring to those who heard, but nobody would have listened to every one of them. She says similar things, even shares the same anecdotes sometimes. I found the first part of the book quite thought-provoking, but the second half far less interesting as it was so repetitive.
Still, I thought it was worth reading. It certainly gives a good insight into Mother Teresa's beliefs and principles.
This book with a dramatic title is by Stephen E Langer, MD, and James F Scheer. It takes as its premise that many illnesses (or, at least, their symptoms) are related to, or even caused by an under-active thyroid gland. This happens when the deficiency is not bad enough to show in blood tests but still sufficient to cause problems such as insomnia, weight gain, headaches, etc.
I thought it would be full of anecdotes about how people with different problems solved them, mainly by lifestyle and dietary changes. So I was a bit disappointed to find that although there are indeed anecdotes and success stories, in nearly every case the 'cure' was the same: take some desiccated natural thyroid. Something which is only prescribable by a doctor, not available over the counter.
So someone who thinks they have symptoms of hypothyroidism (and the authors give a simple thermometer test to determine if it's likely) have to persuade a doctor to give them a prescription for something which they may believe is not a problem. An ethical dilemma for a doctor, who will probably not have the time to read such a book.
I also found the style a little irritating in places, but perhaps that's just me. It seemed to rush through the anecdotes and focus on the success, giving brand names over and over again. That wouldn't have worried me over-much if there had been practical advice for people who didn't want to bother their doctors, but since the 'answers' were almost exactly the same in every chapter, I found myself skimming a fair bit towards the end.
I don't doubt that the authors' conclusions and suggestions may be valid, at least in some cases. But I could probably have found out just as much by reading online.
This is a circular style historical novel by Emma Dally. It begins in 1990 then back-tracks to 1920. That enables it to look at the grandparents and parents of Josie, the woman introduced at the start of the book.
I usually quite like this style of book. Sure enough, it was readable and reasonably interesting, at least to start with. There are a variety of characters, with the main ones being readily distinguishable. In addition, and it felt as if the settings were believable.
Unfortunately, there is far too much detail, much of it irrelevant (in my view). Rather than having intertwined sub-plots, it reads like a family history with isolated incidents. Even the significant ones are just recounted in a few pages without any build-up or emotion.
It's good for an author to know the entire history of her characters, of course. But somehow the book feels as if it was giving the author's outline. It tells us everything remotely related to the characters, but without any gathering together to turn it into a story.
More of a problem for me is that none of the characters are particularly sympathetic. I couldn't relate to them, and I didn't feel any emotion while reading this book. Still, the style is easy to read and I kept going to the end, albeit skimming a little in places.
At the end there is supposed to be a dramatic revelation. But even that was disappointing as there were no twists or turns at all. The secret, held for decades, had become obvious to me during the course of the book.
Not really recommended - it isn't a bad book, if you like this kind of thing, but I doubt if I'll read it again.
'The Pilgrim's Regress' is an intriguing allegorical book by CS Lewis, best known for the 'Narnia' series. It's obviously meant to be a parody of 'Pilgrim's Progress'; the hero is called John, and he - like Bunyan's hero - sets out on a long journey, where he meets various characters and dangers before discovering the reality of God. John's upbringing is in the land of Puritania, where the 'Landlord' is a shadowy being who has produced lengthy rules that everyone is supposed to follow.
However the language is more modern (and thus easier to read) than Bunyan's. The people John encounters are not so much temptations of the flesh as philosophies of life, from the middle ages up to the 20th century. He has to find his way through romanticism, Marxism, even common sense, and realise that the only answer to his ongoing search is in Christianity.
Running through the book is John's longing to find an island, which he has seen in the distance. Lewis, in his introduction to the book, says that he realised after writing it that not everyone has this deep, almost nostalgic longing for something unobtainable.
Nor is everyone aware of the many pseudo-Christian (and unChristian) philosophies that have often led people astray through the ages. So he gives an outline of what each allegory means at the start of each chapter, making it simpler for ordinary people (whom Lewis would probably consider uneducated!) to understand.
It's still a fairly academic book, peppered in places with Greek and Latin quotations, and unsubtle references to lesser-known theorists. I didn't understand them all, but that didn't detract from the overall enjoyment of the book, or the points being made.
Recommended in a low-key way for anyone with at least some classical education and an interest in this kind of book.
'Balancing hormones naturally' is a book I picked up inexpensively a few years ago, but had never read until recently. It's by Patrick Holford and Kate Neil, two fairly well-known British nutritionists.
I'm no chemist or biologist, but I found the explanations of how hormones work to be interesting (even if I skimmed a few of the more technical places). There was a useful self-help questionnaire to indicate possible 'female' problems such as allergies, candida, or hormone imbalance.
There is plenty of common sense advice in this book. It includes explanations of how nutrition can help in balancing hormones at each stage of life. It also has some recommendations for lifestyle changes that might help to improve health.
Moreover, the writing isn't too technical or heavy, I finished the book in a couple of days, just reading in odd moments. On the whole I found it interesting and generally helpful.
All in all, recommended.
It was eight years since I'd read 'An Alien at St Wilfred's', a short novel by Adrian Plass, and I remembered finding it enjoyable and thought-provoking.
It's the story of a little alien called Nunc. Not that it's science fiction - not at all. It's a light but thought-provoking story about David Persimmon, the likeable (if bumbling) Vicar of a traditional Anglican church.
Nunc appears one day in his church, and asks David to gather together three or four people who will meet with him regularly. Far from being bewildered or scared by this unlikely command from a glowing small white alien, it seems the most reasonable thing to do - as do all of Nunc's requests.
The people David chooses are quite a muddle: there's Hartley, an unusual person who thinks fairly literally, cares deeply about the church (which he cleans) and cannot easily look after himself. There's Dick Craven, a hardened cynic who is also David's best mate in the parish. And there's Dot, a lovely elderly lady who loves Jesus and other people, but is not gifted with diplomacy, preferring always to speak the truth.
During the half-dozen meetings this group has, they get to know each other better and also discover various hangups and unfinished emotional business in their lives. It sounds heavy, but it's written in Adrian Plass's usual light-hearted style, so that the serious points are hidden until they leap up and strike you. All the characters are slightly caricatured, but that's not a problem in a book like this; probably everyone can recognise types of people they know within the pages of this book.
I smiled, I had tears in my eyes a couple of times, and I thoroughly enjoyed re-reading this book - most of which I had forgotten. Mainly of interest to those in churches, particularly those feeling a bit fed up with life. But the situations are so ordinary that I would think anyone could read and enjoy this.
Highly recommended.
I hadn't read 'The Foundling' since 1999, and I like to re-read all Georgette Heyer's historical novels periodically, so this one was my choice for this past weekend.
It features the Duke of Sale, otherwise known as Gilly. He's a likeable, unassuming man of twenty-four, who has every comfort possible in life - and yet feels rather fed-up. He can't help wondering what it would be like to be an ordinary person, who could do whatever he liked at any moment rather than being surrounded by well-meaning relatives and servants who plague him with advice, entreaties and good wishes.
Almost the last straw comes when he is persuaded that it's arranged for him to marry an old friend, Harriet, rather than falling in love.
So when his cousin Matt mentions a serious personal dilemma, Gilly seizes the opportunity to travel incognito, without letting anybody know, to see if he can solve the problem. He does not expect to come across a teenager running away from home, and a beautiful (but empty-headed) girl of 17 who will run off with anyone who promises her a purple silk dress. But he quickly learns to exercise ingenuity and use his considerable diplomatic ability to extricate himself from several tricky, and sometimes dangerous, situations.
I suppose it's a bit of a silly story in a way. Some of the subplots are unlikely, and some of the characters are rather caricatured. But in a way that adds to the enjoyment. Heyer is a mistress of irony, and her plots are so well structured that everything seems quite believable at the time of reading. I knew how it would end, of course, but had managed to forget most of the details since I last read it, and found it almost impossible to put down once I had started.
Highly recommended. Re-published frequently, so still in print - but easily available second-hand too.
(You can also read another, slightly longer review of 'The Foundling' written eleven years after this one, when I re-read it again)
'Honor and Evie' is a modern novel by Susannah Bates, an author I had not previously come across.
It's the story of two cousins. Honor is the daughter of wealthy parents, given every advantage in life. She is academic in an unassuming way, and she has the ability to be diplomatic in any circumstances. So her cousin Evie is an unlikely best friend. Evie's parents are not well-off; her father is a struggling artist, and Evie is something of a rebel.
At eighteen, Honor and Evie are very close, sharing each other's lives as much as possible despite their differing circumstances. But when Honor goes to Oxford University, and Evie takes a job as a waitress in a dumpy café, they inevitably find that their interests diverge.
When Evie falls in love with someone who finds Honor more attractive, it seems as if their friendship is threatened. Most of the book is about the girls' lives in their early twenties, as Honor takes the predictable path of marriage to someone sensible, and Evie discovers that she's really a career girl.
In many ways, this is exactly my kind of book. The characters are well-drawn and sympathetic, there's not too much leaping about of viewpoint, and there are a few weightier issues explored. The author does a good job of portraying the good and bad sides of all characters, including the minor ones. It isn't a deeply emotive book, either; perhaps it's not meant to be.
There were one or two places where I skimmed a little: mainly discussions about business, journalism and finances. This didn't really detract from my enjoyment of the book but it did make it easy to put down at times. Having said that, it only took me about four days to read over 500 pages. I won't be pondering it in weeks to come, but I enjoyed it and will no doubt re-read it again in a few years.
Recommended.
I wrote a longer review of 'Honor and Evie' at The Bookbag.
