Perfect Match (by Jodi Picoult)

I haven't read any of Jodi Picoult's books before. For some reason, I had her associated with 'chick-lit' - I don't know why. Perhaps it's the covers of the books, or perhaps her name reminds me of someone who does write in this genre. However I read a couple of excellent reviews of one of her other books, and was intrigued. I trawled Amazon UK for reviews of her books, and added a couple of them to my wishlist.

A relative gave me 'Perfect Match' for my birthday, and it's taken me over four months to pick it up to read. By then I had quite forgotten what it was about, and wasn't expecting too much. I read the first few pages and thought it was going to be heavy-going. It features Nina Frost, a lawyer who specialises in prosecutions in the USA. She's efficient, and evidently does her job well, but there's a sense in which she has to stand back from the people she is working with.

Nina specialises in child abuse allegations, and finds the system frustrating; too often the children concerned are very young, and either they are unable to testify in court, or they become frightened or upset at having to relive their ordeals. The book was written in 2002, so it's possible that the system has changed since then - I had understood that children who had to testify were allowed to do so via video camera links, rather than being in court having to face the person alleged who hurt them.

However, I'm sure the system was valid at the time, since the book is meticulously researched. So much so that I would have thought Jodi Picoult herself was a lawyer who specialised in these cases. It's only in the introduction, and some notes at the end, that she reveals how much of the book was based on research. I learned a huge amount about the legal system in America during the course of this book, and about DNA too.

The story gets going fairly quickly, when Nina's five-year-old son stops talking and starts behaving aggressively at his preschool. It doesn't take long before it's discovered that he has been molested, but as he's not speaking it's impossible to find out how it happened at first.

The book picks up pace here, and due to a very clever introductory section to the book, I knew that Nina was going to do something very shocking in retribution when the case came to court. Sure enough, this happens about half-way through the book. Afterwards, she herself has to stand trial, and finds the legal system rather different when she's having to be defended for a crime which she committed.

That's only the barest bones of the plot - anything else would give away something important. The story is mainly about Nina; about the constant balancing act between mother and attorney; about who she can trust; about whether it's possible for something illegal to be right; about motives for crimes; about whether doing something wrong can in fact make life easier for others, or whether it simply makes it worse.

It was very well-written in a style that could have been confusing, but somehow wasn't. There are rapid changes of viewpoint - Nina writes in the first person, but we also see into her husband's mind, and that of some of her friends and colleagues, and of her son Nathaniel. These viewpoint switches are indicated by simple breaks in the text, and work very well. The whole book is written in the present tense, too. This can be annoying in some author's hands, but Jodi Picoult manages it to perfection.

The style and controversial subject matter reminded me slightly of Libby Purves' novels, but with more depth. There was much to think about in this novel, which I'm sure will come back to me in days to come.

I am looking forward to reading more by this author in future! Highly recommended.

Scandalous Risks (by Susan Howatch)

Susan Howatch is such a good writer! She combines great characterisation with in-depth psychological understanding of people, and mixes them into gripping plot-lines, set in realistic situations. Her Starbridge series about the Church of England during the early to mid 20th century is - in my view - the peak of her work, although she doesn't seem able to write a bad book.

'Scandalous Risks' is the fourth of the Starbridge books, which - surpisingly - is currently out of print in the UK, although widely available second hand. It's narrated by Venetia, from the perspective of her late twenties when she was struggling with her identity in 1963. Venetia is from an upper-class background, in the days when class was much more significant than it is now. She is very intelligent, but decided against going to university. She feels as if her parents can't really be bothered with her, but she has no idea what she does want out of life. She feels that she really ought to get married - or at least have fall in love.

She's very fond of the Dean of Starbridge, Neville Asygarth, known to his friends and family as Stephen. Aysgarth is in his sixties, and has a rather irritating society wife called Dido. His story is told in much more depth - from his perspective - in the third Starbridge book, 'Ultimate Prizes'; reading the books in order undoubtedly adds to their depth, but Susan Howatch is a skilled enough writer that it's entirely possible to read any of the books on their own. There are no annoying flashbacks, and each book is complete in itself.

Venetia has always known Aysgarth as a friend of her father's, from the time she first met him when she was nine. His daughter Primrose is about her age, and one of her closest friends. So when she decides to go and stay with Primrose for a while, she naturally sees a fair amount of the Dean. Suddenly things change, and she realises she is falling in love with him. Unfortunately, he finds this irresistable...

Alongside this main plot, which runs through the book, is considerable discussion of the book 'Honest to God' which had recently been published in 1963, and which I read recently out of interest. The book, despite having been written by an Anglican bishop, proposes a completely new idea of God, ignores the Incarnation, and - most significantly for this book - talks about a 'new morality' based entirely on love.

Aysgarth, a liberal who is a great fan of 'Honest to God', is quite sure that he and Venetia can have a loving, platonic relationship so long as nobody gets hurt, and so long as the relationship is not consummated. But naturally, it's not that simple in reality.. Susan Howatch very effectively shows the extreme dangers of such philosophies.

Meanwhile Aysgarth is also having trouble in his job as Dean, wanting to buy a rather controversial sculpture to display in the church-yard, amongst other issues. He comes up frequently against his Bishop, Charles Ashworth (whose story is told from his perspective in 'Glittering Images', the first book in the Starbridge series).

'Scandalous Risks' is slightly different from the other books in the series so far, in that it actually opens and closes in 1988, twenty-five years after the main events of the story, with Venetia taking a wrong turning from the motorway and finding herself back in Starbridge for the first time since 1963. This works very well, and leads to a very hopeful and positive ending despite everything.

It took me a little longer to get into this book than was the case with the earlier ones in the series, but - as so often happens - by the time I was half-way through it was almost impossible to put down, even though I had read it a couple of times before.

I am interested to see that 'Scandalous Risks' is still in print in the USA, even though it's a very 'English' book!

Definitely recommended, preferably after reading the first three Starbridge books in order.

Fear No Evil (by David Watson)

I had a lot of respect for David Watson, the British evangelist (and Anglican minister) who lost his fight with cancer in 1984. Hundreds of thousands of people were praying for him all over the world, and it was quite a shock when he suddenly went downhill rapidly in his last couple of months, as many expected him to be healed.

His book 'Fear no evil' was written in the last year of his life. It's an autobiographical account beginning with the day he learned of his illness. It began in a rather dramatic way, having to cancel speaking a major event in the USA (although he was able to find others to deputise for him) so that he could have an operation to remove a possibly malignant ulcer from his colon. The ulcer was removed, but in the process the doctors discovered an inoperable tumour on his liver, and gave him about a year to live.

Then began quite a battle, including some high-profile charismatic Christian leaders, including John Wimber, flying over to spend time with David and pray with him. They were all certain that he would be healed; his eventual death had quite an impact on their theology and later teaching about Christian healing.

I knew the story. It was top news in British Christian circles in the 1980s, so I knew what was going to happen in the book. But it was interesting to read from David Watson's own pen, as it were. He wrote very well, peppering his account with anecdotes, and also some relevant thoughts and principles. In his final year he felt challenged in many ways to re-think his priorities, and despite the illness he learned to be able to say, truly, that he was happy to 'go home' if that was what God wanted.

Worth reading for anyone wanting to know more about David Watson's last illness, or to read a positive and encouraging account of a fight with cancer, even though it didn't end in the way his family and friends hoped.

'Fear No Evil' is out of print in the USA as well as in the UK, but can easily be found second-hand.

Country Life (by Charlotte Bingham)

Charlotte Bingham's books are variable, in my view. Some are very enjoyable reads, some are less so. Her plots tend to be interesting, but her characters are rather flat.

'Country Life' is the sequel to 'Belgravia', a satirical look at life amongst the upper classes in England. It's no longer in print, but often turns up at charity shops. I mostly enjoyed Belgravia, while feeling a little overwhelmed by the characters. But I read it ten months ago, and had entirely forgotten all the people - they were not remotely memorable. It would probably have helped if I had read it more recently, even though this book can stand alone.

There's no real plot to this book, but there are a large number of sub-plots. Or, at least, ongoing situations. Jennifer, one of the stars of 'Belgravia', is reasonably happily married to Pember, although he finds her a bit trite at times due to her lower middle-class background. Georgiana, the other star, is still unmarried. She's a remarkably shallow person, caring more about her perfect appearance than anything else.

Then there's Patti, married to Lord Tisbury, whose roots are common, but who is good-hearted and friendly, and seems to attract any male who comes within sight of her. Oh and Jennifer's mother, Clarissa, a ghastly woman recently married to Andrew, who has had enough of her by about two days into the honeymoon.

The most memorable characters are Elliot and Fulton, two middle-aged gay decorators, who have slightly more character and humour than the others in the book. And there's a strange threesome, whose names I have forgotten already. And more. Far too many people for my tastes, and although I could appreciate some of the satire - and some clever writing - I found the book rather tedious, on the whole. Nothing much happens, none of the characters have much depth, and it's all a bit depressing, really.

Perhaps that was the intention, but the result, at least in my view, was an eminently forgettable book, not really worth reading unless you want something very light (and are good at remembering dozens of names) that won't stretch you. I doubt if I'll read it again.

The Larach (by Alexandra Raife)

I like Alexandra Raife's books. They're mostly set in Scotland, amongst gentle, friendly people. I only discovered this author about ten years ago, and am now, gradually, re-reading her books for the second time.

I first read 'The Larach' in 2001 - it was the first Alexandra Raife book I had tried, and I thought it charming. However I couldn't remember anything about it when I picked it up again last week.

It's the story of Clare, who wakes up one morning determined that her promiscuous, alcohol-driven lifestyle has got to stop. The only way she can think of calling a halt to her excesses is to buy a remote cottage in Scotland... so that's what she does. To the consternation of the estate agent (and Clare's current employer and friend) she finds a very run-down old place, with no phone, electricity or even driveway, which is full of mildew and damp... and buys it.

The locals are not convinced that Clare will stay more than a few days; indeed, when she first experiences the extreme cold and lack of facilities, Clare isn't too sure herself. But the neighbours are very friendly, even when she's a bit condescending towards them, and she finds herself particularly drawn to Donald, a sheep-farmer, whose wife is very ill...

It's a slow-moving kind of story, in which Clare slowly comes to terms with her past - not just her immediate promiscuous past, but the events that led up to it, including the death of her husband. She gradually settles into a slower-paced life, makes friends locally, and is even offered some part-time employment before she gets too bored.

There's a rather shocking climax to the book which I didn't like, but it paves the way for the inevitable satisfactory ending.

Pleasant reading, though nothing special.

(This book is known as 'Wild Highland Home' in the USA)

Honest to God (by Bishop John A T Robinson)

I would never have heard of Bishop John Robinson or his work, had it not been for Susan Howatch's Starbridge trilogy, and in particular Scandalous Risks, which I am planning to re-read shortly.

Apparently 'Honest to God' was a best-seller in the 1960s when it was written, and caused an uproar in church circles. It's the subject of much discussion in Susan Howatch's book, and the reason for one of the clergymen in it to make some rather dubious moral choices. So I was pleased to find a copy of the book in a charity shop some years ago; it's taken me this long to get around to actually reading it, but I finally did so in the past week.

I can see why it was so controversial, coming as it did in a period of cultural revolution, and change within the church as well as society in general. Robinson criticises the idea of God being 'out there', saying that he is in fact the ground of our being. That much would have been all right - indeed, these days we do tend to think of God as being immanent as well as transcendent - but Robinson goes further: he claims that God is not 'out there' at all. In other words, that God as a separate Being - as Creator, for instance - does not exist. Instead, Robinson suggests, the idea of God is just a religious way of talking about the depths of human nature, in particular our capacity to love. He says that if 'God is love' then it follows that 'love is God'. A strange logical leap, but evidently one he took seriously.

Robinson then proposes that Jesus was not divine, in the sense we understand the word, but that he did represent love (or Love) in its most divine form - and that we should be seeking to follow that selfless, all-giving love that Jesus showed so well. And he proposes a 'new morality' which is based primarily on love. Robinson says that Biblical commands are not intended for all time, or for all people - they're just suggestions.

He uses Jesus' instructions to the rich young ruler to sell all his possessions and give to the poor as an example. Clearly this isn't meant for everyone; it was a specific thing that would have showed supreme love, in the case of the rich man who apparently cared more about his wealth than anything else. So, Robinson tells us, when Jesus said that divorce was not allowable, he was speaking in ideal terms - but that of course there are times when to stay married is unloving, and in that case a divorce is not only possible, but right.

The whole book was something of a nightmare for many Christians, and would probably be thrown out wholesale by strict evangelicals today. Yet, at the time it was written, it evidently did ask some useful questions, and proposed new ways of thinking about God, and about morality. Had Robinson not rejected the idea of God 'out there' as a separate being, much of what he said would have been helpful.

Certainly thought-provoking for someone who's fairly sure of their faith, but not really recommended. The style is formal and a bit heavy; it's not as readable as CS Lewis, who wrote in the same period, nor anywhere near as helpful.

But still, I'm glad I've finally read it, so at least I know what it said.

The Saving Graces (by Patricia Gaffney)

I'd never heard of Patrica Gaffney before. Yet this book was, apparently, a best-seller in the USA a few years ago. It doesn't seem to have had the same effect in the UK, for some reason.

'The Saving Graces' is the story of four women in the USA: Isabel, Lee, Emma and Rudy, who have been close friends for some years. They meet regularly in a group which they call 'The Saving Graces', for a reason that's explained early in the book.

I got a bit confused at first. The first chapter is narrated by Emma, who is a journalist. She explains a bit about the group, and also about each of the other members. Then the second chapter is narrated by Lee - this is what confused me, since I didn't realise the narrator had changed until she started talking about Emma.

This is the way the whole book is written, with all four of the 'Graces' narrating a chapter in turn, all in the first person. I love the idea of using four narrators, since it gives different perspectives on so many situations. The only slight problem was that the narrative voices were remarkably similar, so that I often forgot who was supposed to be writing until I looked for the name at the top of each page.

I found myself drawn into the storyline quite strongly by the time I was around half way through. Each of the four women has problems which surface during the telling of the story: Isabel has a broken marriage and is recovering from a breast cancer operation; Lee has a wonderful husband, but is unable to conceive the child they both want; Emma is in love with a married man; Rudy, who had an appalling childhood, is married to a very controlling husband, although she doesn't seem to realise how manipulative he is.

Moreover, their characters are very different: Isabel is quiet and observant, into New Age healing and healthy eating; Lee is organised and practical; Emma's something of a free spirit; Rudy is stressed and desperate to please. Yet they have a strong bond of friendship despite their differences, and although they bicker occasionally, they give all they can to help each other when serious crises occur.

Some of the book is light-hearted, some of it is more serious. Towards the end, there were parts that were very moving, and I admit to a few tears in my eyes a couple of times. The conclusion of the book was encouraging and hopeful, after a highly emotive scene that almost pushed itself into the limits of schmaltzy sentimentality - but not quite. The author managed to stay just the right side of the line, in my view. I thought I might cringe, but I'm glad to say that I didn't.

There's slightly more bad language than I'm comfortable with, although it wasn't excessive and was mostly in character for those who were using it. Other than that, I recommend it to anyone wanting a light holiday read with a bit of emotion.

The Choir (by Joanna Trollope)

I like most of Joanna Trollope's books, particularly her later ones. I don't feel as moved by her characterisation as I do by some other authors (such as Rosamunde Pilcher) but I do feel caught up in her plots, which are always intriguing and a little different to the average women's fiction novel.

I last read 'The Choir' over seven years ago, and remembered enjoying it. It was the first of Joanna Trollope's contemporary novels, claimed by the Sunday Telegraph as being 'A modern Barchester Chronicle'- no doubt a reference to the author being a descendant of Anthony Trollope.
It's set in the 1980s, and revolves around the Cathedral Close and choir school in the fictional town of Aldminster. The headmaster is a likeable man, but rather stressed because his wife has vanished. He knows she's alive and well, and she's disappeared before, but he's still not sure why, or whether she will return to him.

The organist, Leo Beckford, is a brilliant musician and exacting choir master. His newest protegé, eleven-year-old Henry, has a voice that seems even more stunning than most - and it's only the best who are accepted into the Cathedral choir in the first place. There's some tension between Leo and the teachers at the school, since Leo believes that the choir should take priority over everything else, including sports.

Then there's the Dean, a rather overbearing man, with a snobby wife. They have some teenage and young adult children who have gone beyond the bounds of rebellion, into almost unbelievable wildness - I suppose this family was the closest to the caricatures of 'Barchester', and they're the ones who cause the most stress within the Close. The Dean thinks the Cathedral itself is far more important than the choir, so when a large amount of money has to be raised to solve problems with the Cathedral roof, he has no qualms about axing the choir... or, indeed, selling the Headmaster's house (which is Cathedral property) to aid the necessary funds.

So there are stresses and strains, not helped by Henry's mother - whose husband works in the Middle East - starting an affair. Henry is a very likeable boy, with a good imagination and integrity, who really loves to sing. I found him the most sympathetic character in the whole book, although most of them were believable up to a point. There was actually rather too large a cast for my tastes and I sometimes forgot who was who; some of them (such as the nice, diplomatic Bishop who refused to take sides) seeming quite unecessary.

So, in a sense it is a bit like a contermporary 'Barchester Chronicles' and would probably be enjoyed by those who liked Anthony Trollope's work. In another sense it's very different, since the focus is on the choir school and Henry in particular. People learned a lot about themselves, and also about the necessity of life having to move on. I enjoyed re-reading it - having quite forgotten what would happen - and thought the conclusion satisfactory.

Out of the Comfort Zone (by George Verwer)

I've read a few books by George Verwer in recent years. He's the founder and head of one of the large international Christian organisations that particularly focuses on literature in evangelism and teaching, and I have a lot of respect for his vision and views.

I picked up 'Out of the Comfort Zone' second-hand (though it doesn't appear to have been read) and thought it might be a challenging read, given the title. Not challenging in the sense of deep or complex theologically, but in making me re-think some of my priorities.

However I actually found it rather basic. Perhaps it's that it's a few years old now, or perhaps it's that I've had so much contact with this kind of work in general that I've absorbed all the concepts, and take them pretty much for granted.

The topics covered are all good ones: the importance of grace in missions work, the need for leaders, and mobilisers, the problems of finance and different ways that missionaries raise support, and so on. There was a fair amount of focus on the AD 2000 movement too. But although I could recognise valid points, there was nothing I had not read or heard before, many times.

Another minor problem is that, despite his huge emphasis on literature and reading (which I heartily approve of), George Verwer is primarily a speaker, rather than a writer. If I slowed down my reading, and imagined someone saying the words in my head, there was a lot of energy in them. But as text to read, it seemed rather dry and it was difficult to concentrate.

This book could be useful for churches or Christian leaders who aren't involved at all in outreach, or who want to know, in a nutshell, how missions work happens and what is still needed. But for the kinds of people I know, who are already way out of their comfort zone, this book wouldn't really add anything new.

The Light Fantastic (by Terry Pratchett)

Although we have most of the Discworld series, I've only read most of them once. They're not my usual kind of genre, since I prefer character-led family books, but I've thoroughly enjoyed reading Terry Pratchett's books aloud to my sons in recent years, and decided I'd gradually re-read the books, in order.

So I began with The Colour of Magic, a couple of months ago, and in the last few days have read The Light Fantastic, which is the second book in the series. It's actually a direct sequel of 'The Colour of Magic, which ended with Rincewind the incompetent wizard, and Twoflower the enthusiastic and literal-minded tourist, about the drop off the edge of the Discworld.

The basic plot is that (a) the Disc is travelling rather fast towards a huge red star (2) Rincewind has, lodged in his mind, one of the great spells that needs to be said in times of danger. So the wizards in Ankh-Morpork want to find Rincewind, and he wants to return home anyway. Cohen the barbarian, who appears in later Discworld stories, is introduced in this book and takes a significant part in Rincewind's survival.

The story takes many twists and turns, with some excitement and plenty of light humour, including some unexpected one-liners that actually made me laugh (or at least chuckle) out loud. It's not as brilliant as some of Pratchett's later books, but very enjoyable nonetheless.

Recommended, but best read after The Colour of Magic.