Love Songs and Lies (by Libby Purves)

I've read all of Libby Purves' novels and enjoyed them to varying degrees. Her earlier work was fairly punchy, sometimes addressing current issues in unexpected ways, leaving me sometimes with my preconceived ideas altered, pondering for days. Her more recent books have been gentler, and I'd read reviews suggesting that 'Love Songs and Lies' was a return to her earlier style.

It was certainly written in an interesting way, narrated in the first person by Sally and adopting almost the style of a biography, with a few author asides here and there; not annoying ones, as in Victorian novels, but almost making the book feel more real. Sally, at the start of the story, is a student about to start living in a run-down house with two friends - Marienka and Kate - and the rather gorgeous and highly intelligent Max.

Sally falls head over heels in love with Max - or at least with his image - but tells the story from the vantage point of thirty years in the future, so it's clear that she realises it was silly, that Max wasn't all he seemed, that any relationship was doomed. However at the time it was real to her; she lived for every hint of affection. And Max is a nice enough guy, but rather manipulative, as everyone else quickly realises.

The novel then moves forward a bit to Sally's marriage, her life as a song-writer and as a mother, and her struggles to find out what really matters to her. She goes through good times and bad, tragedies and shocks, and there's a kind of honesty about her, so we see her faults and mistakes quite clearly, yet they make sense from her perspective at the time.

So it's cleverly written, and I found it fairly gripping - I read it in just two days, and it's not a short book (nearly 400 pages). However, I didn't really relate fully to any of the characters. Marienka is a caricature of a wild fun-loving (but very loyal and caring) person, Kate is rather a shadowy solid, down-to-earth motherly type. Max himself is by turns adorable and shallow... which is probably how we're meant to see him, alternately through Sally's eyes as a student, and her more mature understanding eyes as a middle-aged adult.

But the very mixed narrative - the narrator seeing her young self from a distance - makes Sally seem a distant kind of person too, and despite hoping her life would turn out all right, I never quite got inside her head. Nor were there any really thought-provoking issues raised. The book touches on the problems of single mothers in the seventies, of poverty and pride, of family loyalties and the ties of friendship.

There was also the theme of lies - or at least of concealed truths, one of which has a thread running through the book. But although there are one or two sudden and slightly shocking events, there was nothing to make me think about it further once I'd finished.

Oddly enough, this book does not seem to have been published in the USA.

You, Me and Him (by Alice Peterson)

"You, Me and Him" is a modern character-driven novel about relationships by Alice Peterson.

Josie and Finn's marriage has been going through a stressful time, although they very much love each other. It doesn't help that their six-year-old son George has ADHD and is extremely difficult at times. They love him dearly, but their lives (particularly Josie's) have been disrupted since his birth, and although Finn wants another baby, Josie isn't sure at all. Then she discovers that she's pregnant, and panic sets in.

Finn is a successful doctor, and also a great father who understands his son well - except that he's often too busy to spend time with him. Then Josie becomes resentful and Finn becomes defensive. There's another man in the picture, too. Clarky, Josie's childhood friend, lives nearby and is George's godfather. Finn and Clarky don't much like each other .

It's not often that I fall in love with a book within the first few pages, but it happened to me with this one. The story is told in the first person by Josie, and I found myself relating to her strongly, right from the start. I did wonder if there was going to be an 'agenda' to the book, pushing acceptance of ADHD, with lots of detail about possible causes and treatments. Clearly the author knows a great deal about this condition, but I thought she managed to avoid pushiness. George is a likeable, intelligent lad who knows that his brain doesn't work like other children's.

All in all, much better than the average light chick-lit; instead it was quite thought-provoking, often moving, and very satisfying to read. I began it on Saturday morning and could barely put it down once I'd started.

Highly recommended.

(I wrote a longer review which is here at The Bookbag site)

The Hobbit (by JRR Tolkien)

I've read 'The Hobbit' at least three or four times - first when I was about ten, most recently to my sons - and that was probably about twelve years ago. So it felt like time for a re-read. Of course JRR Tolkien is now widely known due to the enormous appeal of the film versions of 'Lord of the Rings', but there are people who still don't realise that 'The Hobbit' was the precursor, for children, to that incredible trilogy.

Bilbo Baggins is the hero of the story, a quiet, unassuming and respectable hobbit who enjoys peace, comfort and good food. His mother was from a rather dubious family, albeit very wealthy, but his father was the epitome of respectability, and Bilbo hasn't any thought of leaving his pleasant home at Bag End.

A hobbit (for anyone who hasn't seen the Lord of the Rings films) is a human-like species, but rather shorter than most people and with huge hairy feet. They also live rather longer than the average human. Bilbo, at fifty, is now a young adult hobbit. He is sitting outside after breakfast one morning, smoking his pipe and relaxing, when Gandalf appears, quite unexpectedly.

We're not told exactly who or what Gandalf is, but any self-respecting child reading his description ('a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, a silver scarf over which his long white bears hung down below his waist...') would instantly recognise a wizard. They have not seen each other for many years, but Bilbo has happy memories of Gandalf's amazing firework displays when he was a very young hobbit, so he invites him to tea the next day.

To his horror, he finds that Gandalf has invited several other guests. Thirteen dwarves arrive on his doorstep the following afternoon, all under the impression that Bilbo is going to help them travel on a perilous journey to kill a dragon and retrieve large quantities of treasure. The thought fills Bilbo's mind with horror, and the dwarves aren't very impressed by what they see of him, either. But Gandalf knows what he's doing, and unsurprisingly, Bilbo ends up accompanying them.

Thus begins a series of thrilling adventures, in classic style: they are trapped by various enemies along the way, and imprisoned in several unpleasant places. Early in the book, Gandalf plays a large part in their rescues but gradually Bilbo takes a greater role, proving himself resourceful, intelligent, and courageous. So part of the story is related to Bilbo's growing confidence and maturity, and his companions' increased respect of him.

I think it's a wonderful book, and I'm not usually a fan of fantasy. The writing is fluid and clear; simple enough that (at least in my experience) children as young as seven or eight can enjoy listening to it, even though they wouldn't necessarily understand everything, yet there's plenty in it to appeal to teenagers and adults too.

It's a classic good versus evil plot, with the baddies - goblins, spiders, wolves and so on - being extremely nasty. But the good guys are shown realistically, with plenty of faults, and it takes a crisis towards the end before the sides are finally drawn, and a major battle takes place.

Definitely recommended.

Coastliners (by Joanne Harris)

I've read Joanne Harris's three food-related books (of which Chocolat was the first and best-known) so was interested to try 'Coastliners', a novel about people living on a small island off the coast of France, which was a slightly different venture.

The opening is a bit dull - I skimmed the prologue, which described the island of Le Devin, featured in the book, and the two main parts of it - Les Salants and La Houssinière. There was a sketch-map at the beginning, which I did refer to more than once while reading the book, but I found the prologue was just ' factual' information that didn't add to the story at all.

The main part of the book features Mado, a young woman who lived on the island until her mother left her father some years previously. Her mother has recently died, so Mado returns to see her father, unsure what reception she will get. He's an austere kind of person who barely says a word, and she's not even sure if he loves her.

But although Mado doesn't expect to stay for long, she finds herself quickly caught up in island life, and particularly the general despondency she finds amongst 'her' people, the ones in Les Salants. They see the Houssinières as enemies, always getting the tourists, trying to take over the entire island. Mado tries to push her friends into fighting back, but they don't want to... until an apparent miracle happens, and things start to change rapidly.

Joanne Harris's writing is fluid and evocative, and her people seem real - despite there being such a large number that I frequently lost track of who was who. She portrays clearly the struggle between island customs and traditions, and the pull of modern life. People on Le Devin don't seem to be living in the 21st century - they're barely in the 20th, with few cars, no computers, few modern conveniences. They don't even keep up-to-date with world news. But some things never change in human nature, and the idea of attracting lots of tourists brings out greed in even the nicest of people.

There are broken and healed relationships, uncovered mysteries from the past, a strange but helpful young man whose background is a puzzle to everyone, and some drama towards the end that leads to twists and turns in the plot that left me turning the pages compulsively, wondering how it would all end. I was afraid the ending had been left completely open when I got there - until I discovered a short epilogue, which cleared up my questions.

Recommended.

Bacon Sandwiches and Salvation (by Adrian Plass)

Adrian Plass is without question my favourite modern British Christian writer. He seems to write in several genres: from the funniest - yet thought-provoking - fiction I've ever read, through to more serious light fiction, some of it very moving, and devotional or instructional non-fiction.

Plass is not a straightforward person; he sees through the masks of many Christians and tries to uncover what's going on inside. Since he does this, generally, by poking fun at himself - or admitting to personal failures - his writing is powerful; his humour makes it all the more palatable and memorable. He has a great gift, in my view.

'Bacon Sandwiches and Salvation' is a different style again: this book is a dictionary of Christian terms. Supposedly, anyway. But of course it's written by Adrian Plass, so it's a mixture of comments that strike right to the heart, anecdotes that make one think, and laugh-aloud humour.

It's not a book to read straight through, more something to dip into, preferably with like-minded relatives and friends around who will appreciate it. Plass pokes fun at several denominations, particularly the Anglican church (which he is part of) as well as general Christian language. And a few extra words that have crept in too.

Definitely recommended. Oddly enough, this is not available in the USA.

Church that Works (by David Oliver and James Thwaites)

'Church that Works' is an interesting book, which looks at the church in the broadest sense - ie the Body of Christ worldwide, with individual churches being the body of believers in each town or city, as was the case in New Testament times.

It's written by two authors - James Thwaites and David Oliver - and their styles merge well so that, although each chapter is marked with the name of its writer, the book didn't seem at all disjointed.

Their premise is a fairly significant one: that the church in recent centuries has been more inclined to trust the Greek philosopher Plato than to build on the Hebrew wisdom of the times in which Jesus lived on earth. Thus we think of 'church' and 'work' in two entirely different categories, very often; even those who are supported as missionaries or ministers, or funded by other believers tend to see individual congregations and Sunday services as the central focus of the week.

They're right, yet it's so ingrained in our culture that it's difficult to see how it can be different. Yes, we know that the church worldwide consists of every believers, whatever their doctrinal differences and denominational labels. Yes, we know that God is interested in every part of our lives and that it's important to stand by Christian principles in the workplace, the home, schools, and so on.

But we are still inclined to see something special about a congregation meeting on a Sunday morning. If we talk to work colleagues or neighbours about Jesus, we expect to bring them to a Sunday meeting. We count 'church members' by those who sign a commitment to a particular subset of the church who happen to meet regularly.

Does it make sense? Of course not. But until I read this thought-provoking book it was hard to see why. I had read, and very much enjoyed Jake Colsen's 'So you don't want to go to church anymore?' which is a fictional account of someone in America realising the oddities of some large evangelical churches, and rediscovering for himself the joy of informal meetings, relaxed discussions, barbecues, parties, and other ways to get together with his fellow believers.

It all made sense, it certainly helped me loosen my ties to one particular congregation and spend time with others in the area. But it was still fiction; it didn't really explain in depth why the church is in the sorry state it is now in general, and where we've gone wrong.

This book fills the gap nicely. It's not as unputdownable as Jake Colsen's book; I found it a bit heavy-going in places, and read it over about ten days rather than in one sitting. But it was well worth the struggle to concentrate. There are some encouraging anecdotes, plenty of Scriptural references, and positive suggestions for truly being salt and light in the world.

The authors don't suggest we get rid of Sunday morning services, just that we see them in their place as one of many places where we can get together with our brothers and sisters.

Definitely rec ommended.

Glamorous Powers (by Susan Howatch)

'Glamorous Powers' is the second in Susan Howatch's superb 'Starbridge' series about clergymen in the Church of England, during the 20th century. It's complete in itself, but best read after 'Glittering Images'.

Jon Darrow is the hero of this book. No longer seen as the wise, mature counsellor through Charles Ashworth's eyes, Jon is the narrator of this book, and an entirely different side of his character emerges.

The story opens with Jon, an Anglican monk, having a vision of a chapel. He believes this is part of a call to leave the monastery and resume work in the world. In order for this to happen, he must persuade the Abbot-General. Unfortunately for Jon, Francis Ingram, the new Abbot-General, is an old rival of his, and they have never seen eye to eye. At first it appears that this is because Francis is a rather dull, upper-class twit who has managed to manipulate his way into the affections of the previous Abbot-General, but as the book progresses it becomes clear that Francis does have a great deal of wisdom, and that he has Jon's (and God's) best interests at heart. The problem is Jon's own hang-ups, which are cleverly and gradually revealed as the book progresses.

The writing is excellent, mirroring Jon's own opinion that getting to the root of people's problems is like gradually taking more and more layers off an onion. Jon's pride and arrogance are clearly shown, in his lack of honesty with several people who he cares for, and in particular in the rather poor relationship he has with his adult children. Yet he doesn't think of himself as overly proud or arrogant, and frequently deceives himself as he plunges into one disaster after another.

It's an excellent book, one I could barely put down despite having read it in 2000, and again in 2001. I was no longer shocked or surprised by things that I didn't expect the first time I read it, but I was moved to tears afresh by one short passage, and utterly gripped by the time I neared the end.

Unfortunately - and surprisingly - this book is currently out of print in the UK, but still in print in the USA. Widely available second-hand in both countries.

Highly recommended.

Soft Voices Whispering (by Adrienne Dines)

'Soft Voices Whispering' is by Adrienne Dines. It's her third novel - and the reviews of the first two don't appeal to me at all. But this one is poignant, suspenseful, and moving, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

A tall and rather austere nun comes to teach at Kildoran Primary School. The children at the school find her over-strict, and the other nuns find her too private and rather abrupt. Besides that, there's obviously some mystery surrounding her past.

Much of the focus of the book is on Emer Fagan, a harrassed wife and caring mother. Emer observes and wonders, but understands little of what is going on. She works hard, taking life fairly phlegmatically, while often wishing it could be different. As the story unfolds, it's often seen through Emer's eyes, and I found myself relating to her probably more than anyone.

There are a large number of characters, but somehow, it didn't matter. There are several viewpoints, too, but I didn't find it annoying. There were times when it was obvious what was going to, but I didn't skip any pages; instead I felt the tension of the characters as they gradually realised what I had already known.

All in all, the author got the balance exactly right from my perspective, with no extraneous words, no pointless dialogue, and no unnecessary descriptions. Highly recommended.

My longer review is here at The BookBag

An Old-Fashioned Arrangement (by Susie Vereker)

'An Old-fashioned Arrangement' by Susie Vereker is published by Transita, and pretty much fits the genre of 'chick-lit for the middle-aged'.

Kim, whose husband travels a lot, isn't worried that she hasn't heard from him for a while. Then two people from his company arrive on her doorstep and tell her that he's missing, feared dead.

It's the kind of opening that seems to appear fairly often in modern novels, but Kim's circumstances are rather different from the norm. For one thing, she's living in Geneva, in a house rented by her husband's company. In the absence of her husband, she will soon be homeless. Enter Henri, their landlord and neighbour. He's a charming and elderly roué who has always rather liked Kim as well as being friendly with James. He proposes an "arrangement" which rather shocks her... but she accepts.

On the whole I enjoyed the story - it's light-hearted with serious overtones . It's plot-driven with several fast-moving subplots, which isn't my personal preference in novels, but I did find myself reading fairly compulsively. On the other hand, I would have liked the characters to be stronger and more believable. Most of Kim's friends are caricatures, and I couldn't quite believe that Kim would be so naive at the start of the story, or that she would change so fast.

Still, a pleasant enough light read for those who enjoy this genre. Not available in the USA, apparently. My fuller review is at the Bookbag site.

Blue Slipper Bay (by Wendy K Harris)

Blue Slipper Bay is published by Transita, who specialise in novels for women in their forties. This is a sequel to Wendy K Harris's first book, 'The Sorrow of Sisters', although I haven't read that.

Jill is a psychologist, who's worried about her husband Ash, who runs an alternative health centre in the Isle of Wight. Their marriage is mostly comfortable rather than sparkling, but he's recently been concerned about their student daughter Rose and seems depressed. There's also some kind of mystery to Jill, which is hinted at once or twice in the early chapters. Evidently she's not all she seems...

Jill's best friend is Sophie, who is distraught because her husband Peter walked out on her. Sophie leaves her job and goes to stay with Jill, and inevitably becomes caught up in suspicions and concerns about her friends' marriage. As she works through her hurt and confusion, she begins to discover what she really wants for herself.

And then there's Nick, living alone, recovering from the death of his wife and their unborn baby a few years before the story begins. Nick hasn't really come to terms with his loss, but he copes, just about, by working hard and keeping to himself.

I soon found myself feeling quite involved in the lives of these hurting people. It wasn't long before I could distinguish everyone easily, and found myself particularly empathising with Sophie and her quest for meaning and purpose.

I suppose this book is really chick-lit for older women: there are casual relationships as well as more committed ones, and the plot moves fairly rapidly at times, with a fair amount of action. There are many misunderstandings, too, before the expected romantic conclusion involving two of the characters. But there are deeper ongoing themes running through the book: the vital importance of total honesty in friendship, the necessary balance between freedom and structure for children, and also the background of alternative healing with its benefits and potential dangers.

All in all, a good read, and not necessary to have read the first book. Recommended.

For some reason, this doesn't seem to be available in the USA.

My longer review can be found here at the Bookbag.

Review of 'Sorrow of Sisters' is here, written a year later.