The Ivy Tree (by Mary Stewart)

(Amazon UK link)

In re-reading books by some of my favourite authors, I’m trying to vary the genres somewhat. So after some modern light romances, I decided to re-read one of the books I previously enjoyed by Mary Stewart. She was a writer who helped to develop the ‘romantic mystery’ style in the mid-20th century, and her books usually contain some low-key tension, enough to label them as thrillers, but without overt unpleasantness.

‘The Ivy Tree’ is narrated by a woman in her late twenties whom we meet wandering around an estate near Newcastle. She is accosted by an angry young man who thinks he recognises her, although she insists that he is mistaken.

To say anything more about the plot would be to give spoilers. It’s a very cleverly written book, and although I have read it at least once before (fourteen years ago) I could not remember the outcome at all. There’s deception, and low-key blackmail, and threats to safety… and there’s also some great characterisation. The main story revolves around the potential inheritance of a house and some money, to be left by an elderly man who is in poor health after a stroke.

While there’s a tad more descriptive detail than I like, it’s very well-written, in a way that kept me guessing and even changing my mind several times until the last few chapters. Inevitably it feels somewhat old-fashioned; first published in 1961, it’s long before the era of computers and mobile phones. But there’s much that feels modern in terms of people’s emotions, and some surprisingly open discussions about intimacies and infidelities, given the era of writing.

I found it quite tense in places, so was glad that I spent much of Sunday reading it, rather than keeping it for bedtime reading. The climax is exciting and somewhat unpleasant, but there aren’t too many gory details.

All in all, I liked the book very much. Recommended if you like mild thrillers from the 1960s about strong-minded women who don’t object to a bit of deception.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Grace Choices (by Jeff Lucas)

(Amazon UK link)

I’ve very much liked the books I’ve read by the Christian writer Jeff Lucas, over the past few years. He writes in a self-deprecating way, combining low-key humour with some thought-provoking wisdom. So when I spotted one I hadn’t read, inexpensively available from the AwesomeBooks site, it wasn’t a difficult decision to order it.

‘Grace choices’, subtitled ‘Walking in step with the God of grace’ is rather different from other books I’ve read by this author. It feels a little heavier, for one thing. Not that it’s a particularly long book - under 200 pages in paperback - but it took me a while to get into it. The introductory chapter takes us to a book signing, demonstrating the startling contrast between two women in the queue. One was knowledgeable - even passionate - about Christianity, but scared: afraid to laugh, worried that God was going to strike her at any moment. She believed in the doctrine of grace, but seemed not to experience it in her life. The other, wheelchair-bound and with a long history of abuse, was full of laughter and life.

So, the author proposes, we make our choices - not to suffer or not, but in how we respond to them. It’s not always easy to respond gracefully, or even to notice God’s grace. Believing in grace poses more questions than it answers. But still, he believes that we can find and experience grace in everyday life, sometimes in the midst of horrendous suffering, if we are willing to watch and listen.

It took a while to get going. In the first couple of chapters it felt as if the author was rather labouring the point. It wasn’t turgid, exactly, although that word occurred to me. But rather slow and wordy. Perhaps, though, it’s impossible to introduce the topic in a way that even begins to express the amazing, outrageous nature of what God’s grace really means.

Subsequent chapters introduce different ways to look for grace: in beauty, in other people, in the church, in the world. I don’t think I read anything that was new to me, but there were some useful reminders. Lucas writes about accepting and giving forgiveness, being open to touches of unexpected grace, about being the means of grace to those around us. He shares personal anecdotes, and by the time I was about halfway through I was finding it interesting, and - in places - thought-provoking.

It’s well-written, and there’s plenty to think about. But I didn’t find it as moving or indeed as relevant as Philip Yancey’s classic ‘What’s so Amazing about Grace?’ which covers similar ground. Still, well worth reading for anyone who struggles with the concept of grace, or (perhaps more importantly) who finds it difficult to experience grace in day-to-day living.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

The secrets of happiness (by Lucy Diamond)

(Amazon UK link)

It’s a couple of years now since I first read one of Lucy Diamond’s novels. I liked her characters and the way the plot worked, and have gradually acquired a few more since then. I was given ‘The secrets of happiness’ last Christmas, and have just finished reading it. I thought it would take me a week or more, as it’s not a short novel at about 460 pages. But I liked it so much that I kept reading, and completed it in just three days.

The story, like everything else I’ve read by this author, revolves around family relationships. The main protagonists in this book are Rachel and Becca, who are step-sisters, about eight years apart in age, and not particularly close. Rachel was always well-behaved and did what she was expected to do: a good job, a successful marriage, three children, a large and nicely kept house. At least, that’s how Becca saw her. Becca was more of a rebel, but also looked up to her sister when they were growing up.

We meet Rachel first, on her way to Manchester on a secret mission which we don’t learn about until much later in the book. Unfortunately she doesn’t get to her destination; disaster happens just after she leaves the railway station, and she’s then out of the picture for a while. Her neighbour, who was looking after her children for an hour or so after school, phones Becca in a panic when Rachel does not appear…

The plot covers just a few weeks, as Becca becomes involved in her sister’s family, and realises that her life was nowhere near as perfect as she had thought. Mabel is thirteen, blue-haired, with badly bitten nails, and decidedly hormonal. Scarlett is ten, and miserable without the family dog, who no longer lives with them. Luke is just five, a likeable little boy who is starting to discover just how mean some children can be… and Rachel herself has had many stresses in the past year, which Becca knew nothing about.

What I liked best about this book was the characterisation. The contrast between Rachel and Becca is nicely drawn; they grew up in the same household (Becca was only a year old when her mother married Rachel’s father) but have very different values. Both have been grieving the loss of Rachel’s father - the only father-figure Becca ever knew - who died about a year before the story starts. Becca used to enjoy art and crafts, but has drifted, working in a bar, while flat-sharing; she is thirty, but has no idea what she wants to do, or how to get out of her rut.

Inevitably there are romantic pairings - predictable from the first meetings, one with an unlikely coincidence near the end of the book - but they’re quite low-key. The focus is on the family, and the gradual thawing of the relationship between Rachel and Becca. I’m not sure why I found it so gripping, as there isn’t a great deal of plot; but I could barely put it down. The writing is somewhat informal, switching viewpoint with sometimes confusing rapidity, but, as with other books I have read by this author, I soon got used to it.

The one thing I did not appreciate was the amount of bad language. Even Scarlett uses words she should barely have been aware of, and the adults’ conversations and thoughts regularly degenerate into four-letter words that, in my view, were both unnecessary and unrealistic. I was particularly shocked by the way Becca’s new romantic partner used one of the worst words as a supposed compliment after a date. It ruined the moment, as far as I was concerned.

The excess of bad language means I’m reluctant to lend the book to friends who would otherwise have enjoyed it, and makes my recommendation somewhat guarded. If you don’t mind swearing on almost every page, and enjoy character-based women’s fiction, then this would be an excellent holiday read. But if four-letter-words disturb you, give it a miss.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

When the Siren Wailed (by Noel Streatfeild)

(Amazon UK link)

I have loved Noel Streatfeild’s books since childhood, particularly her classic ‘Ballet Shoes’, although my teenage favourites were the ‘Gemma’ series of four books. In recent years I discovered that she had written several other books which I had not previously come across, and have managed to acquire most of them.

I first read ‘When the Siren Wailed’ more than eleven years ago; all I remembered was that it was about a young family living in the World War II era. I wanted something fairly light to read; in retrospect this wasn’t a good choice from that point of view, as it’s much less light-hearted than most of Streatfeild’s fiction.

However, I was captivated almost from the start. Laura (nine), Andy (seven) and Tim (five) are the Clark children. They live in London in extreme poverty, often eating nothing but a single potato when payday approaches. But their home is filled with love, and they don’t know anything other than their tiny house with furniture in and out of the pawn shop, darned clothes passed down from family to family, and regular dirt and hunger.

Everything changes when they are evacuated into the countryside. They go to Dorset, and - after some confusion and an attempt to split the family - are billetted with a Colonel whom they call ‘Sir’, mostly looked after by his former batman, Elk, and his wife. They are not very impressed, at first, by an upper middle class home, with regular baths and early bedtimes. But they very much appreciate the variety and quantity of food available, the beautiful countryside, and the cleaner air. They miss their parents, but soon settle down.

Disaster strikes in several ways about half-way through the book. It would be a spoiler to say more; but the focus is on the ways that the children deal with disappointments and worries. There are some dramatic moments in their subsequent travels and adventures, and many insights into what life, and London in particular, would have been like during and after air raids.

There are no highly gifted children in this story (other than one with a cameo role later in the book); nor are there the cosy nannies or nurses of most of Streatfeild’s novels, though Mrs Elk somewhat fulfils that role. Laura is far more mature than most children her age, taking her responsibility as the oldest very seriously. I liked the differences between Andy, who has many ideas and likes to take action immediately, and his brother Tim, who is more sensitive.

While the gory side of war is kept to a minimum, the author doesn’t glorify it in any way. Tragedies and serious injuries are part of everyday life. As a piece of social history, I would recommend this very highly. It wasn’t published until 1974, but the author, born in 1895, lived through both World Wars and clearly wrote from personal experience.

Intended, I assume, for children of about eight or nine and upwards, this would probably appeal to anyone interested in the war years, and could make an excellent addition to a school or home educators’ study of World War II. The language is not juvenile or ‘easy read’, despite the characters’ young ages, so it could be of interest to teenagers keen on this topic who don’t mind a fictional storyline. I enjoyed reading it very much, and look forward already to reading it again in another ten years or so.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Clouds among the stars (by Victoria Clayton)

(Amazon UK link)

I have very much liked all the novels I have read by Victoria Clayton, an author recommended to me by a friend with similar tastes in books. So I have gradually acquired more of them, all second-hand so far as they are mostly out of print. Recently I decided to read the next one - in order of writing - and finished it yesterday.

‘Clouds among the stars’ is narrated by Harriet, aged 22, the middle child in a large and bohemian family. The youngest, Cordelia, is twelve. The first sentence of the novel hooked me instantly: ‘The day my father was arrested for murder began promisingly’. There are then a few pages describing Harriet’s family; she is considered the plain one daughter amongst beauties, the one without dramatic talent in a family of actors. But she considers herself happy, and probably in love. Her boyfriend, known as Dodge, is an anarchist who drags her into all kinds of political demonstrations and is evidently not to be trusted…

This is billed as a social comedy, but unfortunately, the early chapters of the book are rather sordid. Harriet takes part in a demonstration that turns unpleasantly violent, and then learns that her father has been accused of a crime. It appears that he is the only person who could possibly have committed it, and the scene is described in a little too much detail. Meanwhile one of her sisters suffers extreme humiliation and abuse, and there seems to be very casual use of recreational drugs. The first sentence of the novel, I thought, was a self-fulfilling prophecy as it too was very promising… and went downhill from there.

I nearly gave up after about 150 pages, but decided to keep going. I was mildly curious about the outcome of the murder enquiry, although by that stage most of the plot is revolving around the family dealing with a financial crisis. The bizarre mother goes to have elective plastic surgery rather than play any part in the chaotic household; quite a relief to me as a reader, since she spends her time quoting Shakespeare rather than answering questions or doing anything to relate to her children.

I’m glad I decided to persevere, because the novel improves shortly afterwards. Harriet and Cordelia are invited to stay at a stately home, by their childhood friend Rupert and his flamboyantly gay friend Archie. It’s not their house, but that of an elderly peer and his welcoming but downtrodden wife. Harriet, by this stage, is working on a series of articles about haunted houses, and looks forward to investigating their destination, as it boasts several ghosts.

There were still parts of the novel I found disturbingly unpleasant, particularly the elderly Lord Pye’s predilection for teenage and pre-teen girls, and the way he seems to despise - or ignore - his wife and children. But there are plenty of light-hearted moments too. Harriet as narrator shows herself as having a great deal of common sense combined with an overactive imagination, and terrible self-esteem. But she’s a likeable person; I particularly admired her commitment to giving her young sister as pleasant a Christmas as possible.

The writing is good, as with all this author’s novels, and the pace exactly right to hold my attention. The conversation is mostly believable, and the humour is understated. The ending includes parts that are predictable and parts that are not, and if a tad abrupt, it works well. Overall I didn’t like this book as much as the earlier ones by this author, but I still look forward to reading more of her works.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Liberated Parents, Liberated Children (by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish)

(Amazon UK link)

I don’t remember when I first heard of the books by Elaine Mazlish and Adele Faber. Perhaps it was only fifteen or twenty years ago, but I feel as if their principles have always been tucked away in my consciousness. The best-known of their books is probably ‘How to talk so kids will listen, and listen so kids will talk’. They wrote some variations on that book, too: for instance, one related to teachers and school children, and one is specifically for dealing with teenagers. ‘Siblings without rivalry’ is also well-known and highly regarded in the circles I was part of as a parent.

So I’m not sure why I had never heard of ‘Liberated Parents, Liberated Children’. I came across the title while browsing the AwesomeBooks site recently. When I make an order, I like to find at least ten books, as the postage to Europe is a fixed charge. So when I saw this, in good condition, it was the work of a moment to add it to my shopping cart. My sons are adults now, and my grandchildren are currently the other side of the world. But I know from experience that these books are helpful in any kind of relationship, even if primarily intended for families with children and teenagers at home.

Unlike the other books I’ve read by these authors, this one is in semi-fictional form. That’s explained at the beginning: the authors wanted to described some of the growth they went through, while learning about principles of dealing constructively with children, and the new styles of speaking and relating that they had learned on a course. But they didn’t want to embarrass anyone, or reveal family secrets. So they invented a family, somewhat of a blend of their own families, and a circle of women who met regularly to learn and talk about progress dealing with communication and anger problems in the home. Each incident described was based on something in reality, but without any individual being identifiable.

Not everyone would like the format of ‘creative non-fiction’ (as it’s called elsewhere) but I found this book very readable. It didn’t exactly teach me anything new; the principles are those from the authors’ better-known books, but instead of being teaching guides with explanations, diagrams and lists, they are written in the form of discussions, experiences, and family struggles.

Jan is the name of the fictional narrator. She is married, and has three children: two boys and a girl. One of her problems is that her sons fight a lot, with the older one becoming very angry, sometimes bullying his brother. Jan tends to sympathise with her youngest, remembering her own life as a younger sibling. But she comes to realise, over the course of the book, that this helps nobody. Instead she learns new ways of talking to both sons, enabling them to come up with their own solutions to their differences.

Other situations covered, in other families, include children forgetting things for school regularly, making excessive demands on parents, yelling and making mess, and forgetting to feed a family pet. The motivator of the group the women attend is a calm, friendly presence offering suggestions and positive feedback, mirroring his philosophies in his responses to the women

What I particularly liked is that, rather than everyone trying the principles and living happily ever after, there are stories of setbacks and failures too. There are discussions about anger, about the dangers of making someone feel guilty, and about the importance of parents taking care of their own needs as well as those of their children.

Inevitably it’s somewhat idealised, and not every difficult situation can be improved in this way. It's also American; not every situation would necessarily apply elsewhere. But the principles still hold. It is not about permissive parenting, nor is it about parents being doormats, giving into their children’s every whim. 

For any parents - or grandparents, or anyone in authority, or indeed anyone struggling to communicate in any relationship - I would recommend this very highly, as a gentle guide to non-punitive non-coercive parenting. It’s well-balanced, well-presented, and, in my view, very well worth reading.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Good Wives (by Louisa M Alcott)

(Amazon UK link)

I re-read Louisa M Alcott’s classic novel ‘Little Women’ about four months ago. So I decided that it was time to re-read the sequel, known in the UK as ‘Good Wives’. She apparently wrote it in response to a huge demand from her readers to find out what happened to Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy March, the four girls in her original story. In the US it is still considered to be part two of ‘Little Women’.

The book opens with quite a lengthy introduction, which I had completely forgotten about. Perhaps I read an abridged version last time, although as it’s sixteen years since I last read this book, my memory is vague. I had, of course, recalled the main points of the story but few of the details. The introduction takes us through a three-year period, telling us what has happened to each of the girls and some of the other important characters.

We are then taken directly into Meg’s wedding to John Brooke. This is evidently considered the first ‘interesting’ thing that happens since the announcement of their engagement at the end of ‘Little Women’. The wedding is simple, with family and close friends present. We then hear nothing more of Meg and John until a few chapters later, when we see the first tensions arising in their domestic bliss.

Meanwhile Amy, the youngest in the family, attempts to develop different artistic skills. She joins a class, where she finds it hard to make friends, and then decides to host a picnic lunch. This makes an amusing chapter, although I could also feel Amy’s stress and embarrassment when things go wrong. That chapter is followed by a look at Jo, the strongest character in the family, and - based on the author herself - a writer.

There’s not a great deal of plot, as these books are character-based. Each chapter gives an incident in the lives of one or more of the girls, with some humour, some stresses, and one very sad chapter towards the end. Inevitably there’s a fair amount of authorial aside, including some preaching and moralising - but the author evidently expects it to be taken with a large pinch of salt, and even comments, sometimes, on her commentary.

Inevitably a book first published in 1869 - nearly 150 years ago - is in places very dated. Feminists may decry the expectations put upon women of the era, and the idea of a husband being the head of the household. But the girls are surprisingly modern in their outlook, with distinct personalities. None of them, except perhaps Beth, is too good to be true. They all have their faults, and we see them mature and develop over the course of the book. Meg and Amy learn to be less envious of the good fortune of others, for instance, and Jo learns to be less outspoken.

‘Good Wives’ was originally written for teenage girls, but I suspect some modern teens today would find it too slow-moving. They might not have the maturity to appreciate the slow-moving but tender love stories that develop, or appreciate the morals and philosophies expounded.

However, I have always loved these books, and enjoy them just as much in my fifties as I did when I was in my teens. Highly recommended, but it’s best to read ‘Little Women’ first. Regularly re-printed, including some inexpensive and free editions for the Kindle as it is long out of copyright. Widely available second-hand. Make sure you get hold of un-abridged versions, as the shorter ones miss out rather a lot.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Above All (by Brennan Manning)

(Amazon UK link)

I have very much appreciated the books I have read, over the past decade or so, by Brennan Manning. He was a Franciscan priest, as well as a speaker and writer whose main message was the love of God for even the worst of sinners. I first came across his writing in 2006 when my son gave me ‘The Ragamuffin Gospel’ and have gradually acquired several more of his books over the years.

Browsing the AwesomeBooks site a while ago, I looked to see if there were any more books by this author. I spotted ‘Above All’, one I had not previously read. It was in the ‘Bargain Bin’ so I added it to my order, and have been reading it for the past few days.

My copy is hardback, in excellent condition. And it’s a gorgeous looking book. There’s a peaceful picture on the front, line drawing illustrations in between each chapter, and even in the middle of each chapter. The cynical part of my says that this is to make it longer; my one criticism is that it’s really a very short book. It's just under 140 pages, and would have been nearer 120 without the drawings. There are only six chapters, divided into two sections.

The focus of the book is the song ‘Above All’, which was becoming popular in 2003 when this book was written. Sung by Michael W Smith, it moved Brennan Manning deeply, and he wrote this as a devotional study of the words, and the theology behind them.

The writing is inspiring and encouraging, with a few personal anecdotes and much to ponder. It doesn’t exactly offer anything new, but looks at the words of what is now a well-known song, and reminds readers what they mean. Manning takes a look what Jesus did when he died, and how the love of God is, for each of us, ‘above all’.

There’s not much more I can say. Had I paid full price (I have a US edition that was apparently $16.99) I would have been rather disappointed because it’s so short, although it would make a lovely gift. But I liked reading it very much, and would recommend it to anyone, particularly those who might be feeling discouraged or unloved. No longer in print, but widely available second-hand.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews