Rosamunde Pilcher is one of my absolute favourite modern fiction writers; I'm very sorry to learn that she's now stopped writing, although as she's now in her eighties it's not surprising. Still, I have all her books on my shelves, and re-read them all periodically.
'The Blue Bedroom and other stories' is one of two collections of short stories (the other being 'Flowers in the Rain'). On the whole, I'm not a fan of short story collections - I like reading one or two in magazines, but prefer a full-length novel if I'm going to read a book. However, Rosamunde Pilcher is one of the few exceptions. Her short stories draw me in immediately, creating believable and lovable characters within a few paragraphs. Her themes are timeless, her plots well crafted, her endings beautifully written.
'The Blue Bedroom', for instance, is the story of a young teenage girl still struggling to come to terms with the death of her mother, and her father's re-marriage to someone rather younger than himself. Then her stepmother goes into early labour, and she is the only person around to help. It's a simple enough outline, and could have been clichéd, but somehow it isn't. I felt for both the main characters, I found a tear in my eye more than once, and I was thrilled by the resolution.
The same is true of the other stories. There's the disorganised woman determined to create a perfect evening for her husband's boss and his wife who are expected to dinner. Or the boy who has lost his best friend - an elderly neighbouring farmer, who suddenly died. Or the young couple struggling to make ends meet, and wishing they could afford to have something done about their horrible garden. They give up an enjoyable weekend in the country to entertain a rather crabby and lonely godfather.
So many situations, so many people - but they feel like little cameos of life. Oh, they're set twenty years ago or more, mostly in the countryside, before the advent of mobile phones.
They're in a class of society I'm not familiar with either, who assumed that children go to boarding school at a young age, and that there's someone who helps out in the house and with the children, if only part time. It doesn't matter, though: there's no snobbery; these people are all delightful, wanting what's best for their families and friends.
You won't find twists in the tail with Rosamunde Pilcher's short stories. Nor will you find any violence, either, or sex, or bad language. Perhaps they would be a bit tame for some, but for me they are the ideal of what short stories should be.
Highly recommended.
I first came across Jane Aiken Hodge as a writer of historical novels. I then learned that she has also written a number of contemporary light romantic thrillers - or, at least, they were contemporary in the 1960s and 1970s. I'm not a fan of thrillers in general, but when the ending is guaranteed to be satisfactory, and the suspense isn't too great, I find them an interesting diversion from time to time.
I have only once before read 'Strangers in company'- in 1999, so it was overdue for a re-read. I finished it in just a few hours; it's not a long book, and is fast-paced and quite exciting, so I picked it up several times rather than just leaving it for bedtime.
The heroine is Marian, in her mid-thirties, and trying to get over the shock of her eighteen-year-old twins leaving her to live with their father in the USA. She has been feeling a bit paranoid, but decides to take a job looking after a younger woman, Stella, on a coach tour to Greece. It seems to be the answer to all her worries - financial and otherwise - although there is some mystery surrounding Stella's background.
As the tour gets underway, some odd things happen, including some very serious accidents. People become suspicious, and nobody is at all sure whom they can trust. Marion becomes increasingly worried, both for her own sake and for Stella's, and at the same time tries to resist her increasing attraction to a friendly classics professor who is also on the tour.
I had completely forgotten the plot, and all its ramifications, so I was gripped right until the last chapters, wondering - like Marian - who her friends were, if anyone. The writing is tense and concise, and yet builds believable characters with ease.
A fair amount of Greek politics is included, as well as classical history, much of which passed me by; I'm no fan of political history. It didn't seem to matter too much, despite being of more significance to the main plot than I would have liked.
It seems a bit dated now, and I suppose in another twenty or thirty years will count as historical fiction - but I'm old enough to remember the 1970s, when this was written, and thought it realistic for the time.
Recommended if you like a not-too-suspenseful thriller with a very low-key romantic thread running through it.
Regularly in print in both the UK and USA, and it's the kind of book that often seems to turn up second-hand.
I do like Maeve Binchy's books. I seem to enjoy her recent ones more than her earlier novels, but they're all great stories, well written, with believable and three-dimensional characters.
However I'd heard rather mixed reviews about her latest book, 'Whitethorn Woods. Some mentioned that it wasn't really a novel, it was just a collection of linked short stories. Others said it was good, but nothing like as enjoyable as - say - 'Scarlet Feather', or 'Nights of Rain and stars'. Yet others said it was enjoyable and well worth reading.
But I had it on my wishlist, and was given it for Christmas; I read it in the last few days. I find I agree in some sense with all the opinions I had read!
'Whitethorn Woods' is, indeed, like a collection of short stories, though not exactly. It's not one novel with just a few central characters: instead, each chapter focuses on two primary people, and then rather cleverly tells a story from their two points of view.
However, all these stories are linked. The beginning and the end of the book are written from the point of view of Father Brian Flynn, who is trying to maintain neutrality about a major political issue. There are rumours that a new road will be running through the village, probably cutting right through the ancient woods, and destroying a controversial shrine to St Ann (reputedly the mother of Mary, mother of Jesus). People in their droves have been going to this shrine for many years, praying for health, or restored relationships, or to find husbands - and many other requests.
Father Flynn knows all the locals, and is aware that for some of them a new road will be a great blessing, whereas for others it would be too big a sacrifice to lose the woods and the shrine. He can see both sides of the issue, and tries to avoid committing himself either way.
Then, in each chapter, we meet either a resident of the town, or someone who is connected with it in some way. Most of the stories build - however loosely - on the previous ones, and gradually expand on some of the previous subplots. For instance, in one of the earlier stories we hear about a woman whose husband is in jail; he accused her of selling their first baby, while she claimed the baby was stolen. We then meet the mother in a later story, and later still actually meet the person who stole the baby - and see her perspective.
Other stories stand more alone, merely showing yet another instance of someone for whom the shrine of St Ann has been significant in some way. And they introduce us to the kinds of people who live in this area of Ireland.
So it's a circular kind of book - we see the problem of the road at the beginning, we see various perspectives on it, and eventually we find out what happens, having understood better why it's so significant.
But it's also quite thought-provoking, seeing the storylines from different points of view. And there are some interesting comments on society expectations too: the bright school teacher marrying a local lad considered 'not the sharpest knife in the drawer', for instance. But not being ultra sharp is not a problem in this case. The young man is organised, thoughtful, generous, and utterly honest.
I quite liked each chapter being complete in itself - it was easy to stop reading at any point, and it was also easy to pick up the book for just fifteen minutes or so, and read just one chapter. But I also liked the clever characterisation, so that several people could see the same events through radically different viewpoints.
As always with Maeve Binchy, the writing was excellent and the people believable. I did find the sheer number of them a little confusing at times, and had to check back to see who was being referred to - but that wasn't really a problem.
All in all, I enjoyed 'Whitethorn Woods' very much, and would recommend it highly to anyone who enjoys light character-based fiction.
I had never heard of Jean M Auel, or the 'Earth's children' series, until a friend said she had recently re-read the whole series, and found them gripping. I'm always pleased to find a new writer, so I spent a little Christmas money on ordering the first in the series.
'The clan of the cave bear' is about a girl called Ayla. We first meet her when she is five years old, a contented and secure child who loves to swim. Then she loses her entire family in an earthquake, and wanders a long way before she finds other people.
I should mention that the book is set about thirty-five thousand years ago, in central Europe around the time of an ice age. Ayla manages to fend for herself for a few days, and even escapes a vicious cave lion, before she is discovered by a passing tribe of Neanderthal. Most want to ignore her - she looks totally different from them, and is only a girl anyway - but the medicine woman, Iza, wants to adopt her.
People matured rapidly in prehistoric times, apparently. Iza is twenty, and expecting her first baby. She is considered very old to be doing so. Most of the girls develop into women at the age of about eight, and have their first babies when they are nine or ten. Iza's brothers are older still: Brun is the leader of the clan, and the other brother is Mog-ur, a kind of pagan priest. Mog-ur is over thirty, so is a venerable old age, and riddled with arthritis.
Ayla doesn't just look different with her long limbs and fair hair, she speaks a different language that's more verbal than the clan's gesture-oriented speech with few sounds. She comes from a different society, where girls run and jump and laugh, and are not necessarily totally obedient in servitude to their men.
Still, Ayla quickly proves her intelligence and makes her way into the hearts of both Iza and Mog-ur. She has quick aptitude for medicine, and a deep-seated need to help anyone in pain, or injured in any way. Unfortunately, she finds it hard to behave as the clan women are supposed to, questioning all their traditional ways, showing insolence to Brun's rather arrogant son, and (worst of all) deciding that she would like to learn to use a sling. Weapons of any sort are completely forbidden to clan women, on pain of death.
So there's plenty of conflict, and a very good story as Ayla slowly matures and adapts, faces many battles, and begins to discover her destiny. The writing is powerful and believable, clearly very well researched. For perhaps the first time, I found myself with some inkling of what life might have been like in prehistoric times.
However...
I found 'The clan of the cave bear' over-long. I don't have a problem with lengthy books in general. This has nearly 600 pages, and I've read and enjoyed many longer novels. But this one, in my view, could have done with some serious editing. There were pages and pages devoted to fine detail of how the expert craftsmen of the clan made their flint knives and spears, and what different furs were used for. There was also extensive information about the many plants and herbs that were used in medicine, which Ayla had to collect and learn about. Perhaps these would be of interest to more practical folk, but I found myself skimming rather large chunks of the book every so often, to get to the interesting people-related sections.
As for the people, I thought the main characters were well-developed. I found myself relating somewhat to Ayla as she grew up, although I never quite sorted out in my mind several of the less significant members of the Clan, some of whom had very similar names. It didn't matter over-much, and I didn't care sufficiently to go back and make myself a list of who was whom, or their various relationships.
On the other hand, I wasn't emotionally moved at any point, even when Ayla or her loved ones suffered bereavement.
My other personal gripe with the book is that it was rather over-violent in places. Killing was, no doubt, a fact of everyday life for people of this era, but I didn't want to read quite so much about it. There was also some rather extreme violence - an important part of the plot in one sense, as Ayla makes an implacable enemy out of Brun's son, but again I skimmed rather a lot of the detail of the scenes between them. Towards the end of the book there are also two very unpleasantly gory scenes, both of which I skimmed... and then found I had missed something of significance in the story, so had to go back and try to find it, while ignoring the majority of the scene.
On the plus side, there are fascinating insights into the mindsets that people of this era might have had. The clan have animal 'totems' - sort of spirit guardian angels - and some intriguing theories about how babies are made. They are naturally racist, since they spend no time with those outside their clan, and also stuck in the traditions of the past, bound up with 'memories' which they are born with, like instincts. And, far from being primitive or chaotic, their lives are very ordered, bound with complex rites and rituals.
I gather 'The clan of the cave bear' is used as a text book in some college and high school classes; be warned, if you have younger children, however, that there is one quite explicit scene, and very open matter-of-fact discussion of men 'relieving themselves' with women.
All in all, I'm glad I read this book. By the time I was half-way through, I found it hard to put down, and read far too late last night, waiting for one situation to be resolved. I'd recommend it for anyone wondering what life might have been like in prehistoric times, particularly if you like practical details and information in novels.
There are at least four sequels to this, but despite quite a cliff-hanger ending, I don't think I shall be ordering any of them.
There are a few modern Christian writers whose work I find thought-provoking and enjoyable. One of my relatively recent discoveries is John Ortberg, a pastor in the USA. He writes an a light, almost flippant style at times, with plenty of anecdotes, a dose of humour, and some rather different ways of expressing Christian truths.
'Love Beyond Reason' is, basically, an explanation of what it really means to be loved by God. In the opening chapter he writes about his sister's much loved rag doll (in her childhood), as an analogy for the way God sees us.
In this, and elsewhere in the book, I was reminded of Brennan Manning's excellent 'The Ragamuffin Gospel'. I also found hints, here and there, of the concepts explored in Philip Yancey's classic 'What's so Amazing about Grace?'.
Still, this book stands alone and focuses perhaps more single-mindedly than either of those two books on the different aspects of God's love. Ortberg writes about knowing we are loved, about forgiveness, and second chances, and what it truly means to be loved in this way.
I read it over a couple of weeks, just ten pages or so each day. There were anecdotes scattered throughout, often making his points clearly. In a sense there was nothing new, but at the same time it's good to be reminded of what it really means to follow Jesus and be loved by God.
Definitely recommended to any Christians in any doubt about this. It also might be of interest to those who cannot easily reconcile the apparent unloving aspect of so many Christians today. This book is about ideals, and is a great reminder of what is really important.
I love Georgette Heyer's light historical romances. Her writing is crisp, ironic and authentic; her characters believable and all different. I re-read all her books every so often, preferably after a gap of at least four or five years. She is my ultimate in 'comfort reading'.
I last read 'Black Sheep' in 2002, so it was more than time for a re-read.
It's the story of Abby, a strong-minded and independent young lady in her late twenties. She lives with her loyal, but sometimes foolish sister Serena, and their orphaned seventeen-year-old niece Fanny, who will one day come into a large inheritance.
At the start of the novel, Abby is returning from a lengthy visit to one of her other sisters. She soon discovers that Fanny has fallen in love with the good-looking Stacy Calverleigh, a rather devious young man who is clearly on the lookout for an heiress.
Abby is very fond of Fanny, but simply cannot get through to her on this issue. It's evident that Stacy is in rather desperate straits, and may persuade Fanny to elope with him, since she is underage and her official guardian (Abby's brother) will not give permission for a marriage.
Into the scene wanders Miles Calverleigh, long-lost uncle of Stacy. An extreme coincidence, admittedly, but it works. He has been in India for the past twenty years, banished there by his family after some unspeakable misdeed, but has returned, escorting the son of one of Abby's friends.
After an amusing misunderstanding, Abby becomes quite friendly with Miles, despite him being rather unattractive, with a pretty bad reputation. But she cannot persuade him to take the slightest interest in her problem of Fanny and Stacy.
It's a complicated plot in some respects, but the characters are so well-drawn that there was no confusion. It's fast-paced and enjoyable; I actually read most of it on one evening, and found it hard to put down despite remembering roughly what happened.
Not my absolute favourite of Heyer's books, but still a very pleasant light read. Recommended.
I had not come across Catherine Ryan Hyde until I read one of her books nearly a year ago, 'Love in the Present Tense'. It was sent to me for review for The Bookbag site. I found it intriguing, and decided to look at other books by the same author.
I had heard of the film 'Pay It Forward', and was undecided about whether to buy it. I had not realised it was based on a book by Catherine Ryan Hyde. I immediately added the book to my wishlist, then forgot about it until it arrived as a Christmas gift.
I knew the outline of the story from reading reviews of the film, and hearing people talk about it. A schoolboy in the USA comes up with an idea for a social studies assignment, which he thinks could change the world. The idea was that he would do three 'good deeds' - not just casual ones, but something taking considerable effort or time.
He would not ask for any payment; instead, he would ask each of the people concerned to 'pay it forward' rather than back - ie to find three others who needed helping in a big way, and give them something for nothing, telling them in turn to 'pay it forward'. And so on. The world would indeed change fairly rapidly if everyone took this to heart.
I found the book rather confusing, at first. The introductory chapter is written in the first person by a reporter called Chris, ten years after the story begins. Then we switch to Reuben, a new teacher who was a war veteran, and has some facial disfigurement. He is the one who gives this world-changing assignment. In the middle of this chapter is a short interview piece by Reuben to Chris, supposedly after the event.
Then there's a snippet from Trevor's diary. Trevor is the boy with the idea, in Reuben's class. Then we meet Arlene, Trevor's mother. Her boyfriend Ricky, Trevor's father, has been gone for nearly a year but she hasn't totally accepted it yet.
Then there are a whole host of minor characters, some of whom we only meet for a chapter. Trevor starts the practical side of his assignment by doing three very different 'good deeds'. He agrees to tidy up the gardens of an elderly lady in his street, for no pay. He gives some of his savings to a guy who is down on his luck. And he thinks that his wonderful teacher would be exactly the man for his mother, so he tries to get them together...
It took me a while to realise that there are two broad threads to the book. One is the story of Trevor, Arlene and Reuben. Trevor is rather disappointed that none of his great ideas seem to be working out, although he writes the assignment anyway, and tries to act as go-between when his mother and Reuben argue or don't communicate. He's a very likeable lad.
The other strand of the story is where we see results of the 'pay it forward' movement, as it begins to gather momentum. Trevor has no idea that any of the people he helped have actually gone ahead and done things for others, which is slightly frustrating, particularly at times when we realise how close they are to knowing - but not quite!
Then Chris gets involved, starting when he learns about 'The Movement', and tries to trace it back to its founder, with a great deal of difficulty.
I found it rather hard going at times - it isn't a book to sit down and read in one sitting, as there are so many people involved. Then again, it's quite confusing to read it over a week or two; I quite often forgot who the characters were and had to back-track before I could continue.
However, by the time I got to the last hundred pages or so, I was hooked. There is a great climax, and then a shocking second climax, which I was half-expecting (having read and heard so much about the film). And an extremely moving conclusion, that brought a few tears to my eyes.
The whole idea is wonderful - the concept of 'paying it forward' hasn't taken off internationally, sadly, yet it could have done. It's book about honour, and kindness, and imagination, and honesty. I suppose it's also rather escapist - the cynics in the book who were convinced that people simply wouldn't bother were, presumably, correct.
From my own perspective, there's a Christian theme underlying the book, too. It's the concept of Grace - God's undeserved gifts to mankind - which should result in us 'paying it forward' in love for our neighbours and friends. It's a sad commentary on the church today that few people seem to practise this kind of thing.
Definitely recommended. I shall probably read this again in a few years.
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On the whole, I like Marcia Willett's books. I've been reading them for about ten years now, and find them relaxing and enjoyable. Her characters are believable, her plots gentle, and her endings satisfactory.
Recently I've found one or two of her novels a bit annoying with too much backtracking; interrupting the narrative by leaping forward and then showing what happened in the meantime with a conversation or memory. I've also thought that some of them were rather long-winded.
But her 'Chadwick trilogy' was very moving, and two of her more recent novels ('A week in Winter' and 'Children's hour') were excellent, so I've continued putting her books on my wishlist.
'Echoes of the Dance' features Daisy, a young and promising dancer who has suffered an injury and may never dance professionally again. One of her teachers and mentors, Mim, has a guest cottage in Cornwall, with her brother Roly next-door. Mim suggests that Rosie spend a few days there to have a break from the busyness and stress of London.
There are several strands to this story. Rosie falls in love with a man in London, who seems to have separated from his wife, but is unwilling to make any kind of commitment. Roly's ex-wife Monica is feeling bored; their son Nat has an unusual relationship with a bohemian girl called Janna, and can't really talk to either of them. Roly thinks he's in love with an old friend called Kate, who was recently widowed, and is nursing a long-kept secret. Kate is considering selling her house, and perhaps adopting a new dog, but finds it hard to make decisions after the death of her husband.
Then there are Kate's grown-up children, the twins Guy and Giles, who featured in some of Marcia Willett's earlier books. They are now married with families of their own, and although I don't remember much of what happened to them it felt reassuring to meet old friends, and catch up on one or two plot-lines that I'd wondered about. The book does stand alone - it's by no means necessary to have read any of the earlier ones with these characters - but I quite like the continuity.
The various subplots and threads weave mainly around the Cornwall countryside, with Rosie - who tends to be outspoken and totally honest - being the catalyst for some unravelling of secrets, although she needs considerable help as she comes to terms with her own future.
There were places in the book where a scene was only replayed in retrospect, but it didn't happen too often, and seemed to work better than in some of the other books by Marcia Willett. On the whole it was very well-written and interesting, although occasionally I had forgotten who someone was by the time I picked up the book after 24 hours.
The characters didn't come alive in the way that - say - Rosamunde Pilcher's do, but the story was warm and occasionally moving, and worked towards a satisfying conclusion with one or two surprises along the way.
Recommended as a warm, light character-driven read.
CS Lewis is one of my favourite Christian writers of past years. His style is clear and readable. He is concise, yet never abrupt. He explains ideas succinctly in a way that makes so much sense, I wonder why I had never thought of expressing them that way. His books remain consistently in print, many years after they were written, and while some of his thinking does not fit with current mainstream evangelicalism, it is always thought-provoking.
'The Problem of Pain' is one of CS Lewis's classic books, first published in 1940. It focuses, in a mainly theoretical way, on the oft-asked question of why suffering is necessary. He advances his usual clearly laid-out arguments to show not just that pain sometimes has benefits, but that a world without pain would necessarily have a great deal missing.
After a lengthy introduction, there are chapters on human pain, human wickedness, divine omnipotence, and so on. Towards the end, there is a chapter on animal pain, too, and finally one on Heaven.
It's a mostly theoretical book, without many real-life examples, and certainly helped me get my brain around some of the difficult questions often posed. Not that it helps in any way for someone who is actually suffering; but he says, right at the start, that he is no better than anyone else at dealing with real pain. Still, being able to theorise about suffering is potentially helpful when one is not actually in pain, in order to see some reason or purpose behind suffering when one comes across it for oneself, or in loved ones.
I found it a little heavy-going in places, and never read more than about twenty pages in one sitting. I didn't agree with all of it, either; CS Lewis is a clear evolutionist who does not even acknowledge Adam and Eve as real people, but symbols of early mankind. I'm no 7-day Creationist, tending to think that the origins of man and the earth are rather hazy (and unnecessary to know in precise detail) but was a little surprised at the stance of this staunch evangelical; perhaps reflecting the standard view of his day.
A couple of wry comments in the book have stood out as I think about it after finishing: firstly, when asking whether even the 'lower' animal forms go to heaven, he comments that heaven from the point of view of mosquitoes might well be the same as hell from the point of view of people.
Secondly, he mentions that if a lion were advanced enough to understand the idea of lions lying down with lambs, and eating hay like oxen (prophesied for future times, possibly referring to heaven) - the lion would be horrified and would not consider hay-eating to be any part of heavenly bliss! Just so do many people consider images associated with heaven to be boring (at best). It's all a matter of perspective.
Recommended for anyone wanting to explore the theory behind earthly pain and suffering.