I’ve read three books by Cathy Kelly in the past year, and liked them all. She writes saga-style novels, mostly based in Ireland, about different women. So when I saw some of her books inexpensively at a church bookstall, I decided to buy two or three of them.
I have just finished reading ‘Best of Friends’. As with the other books by Cathy Kelly, there is rather a large cast of characters, and I found the first few chapters quite confusing. It wasn’t until I was almost half-way through the book that I had the main characters straight in my mind. They all live in or near an Irish village called Dunmore.
There’s an almost perfect married couple called Sally and Steve, who have two young sons. Sally works in a beauty salon. Then there’s a slightly older couple called Abby and Tom, who have a teenage daughter called Jess. Tom is a deputy headmaster, and Abby works as a de-cluttering expert. She has recently discovered fame, rather reluctantly, in her own TV show. Abby regularly pops into Sally’s salon for a facial or manicure.
Another important character is Lizzie, who works as the receptionist at the local GP surgery. Lizzie, at almost fifty, is the oldest of the main characters. She has two adult children, and is divorced. We learn something of her back-story through the book. Her daughter Debra is getting married soon, and the expenses keep mounting… it’s evident that Debra is extremely selfish, and also very spoiled (in the worst sense of the word) by both her parents.
Finally there are Erin and Greg, a young couple who have been living in the United States. They move to Ireland for Greg’s work, and they both have Irish roots. Erin has lost contact entirely with her family, and it was evidently very traumatic when she left home. She is quite certain she doesn’t want children...
The story takes place over a few months as the characters get to know each other, and we learn that they all have different problems. Sally hasn’t been very well; Erin hasn’t been feeling great, either. Abby’s husband Tom is not happy that she earns more than he does, and their daughter Jess is stressed by various things at her school. Erin is persuaded that she should try to get in contact with her long-lost family. Lizzie decides she wants to make her life more interesting…
It’s character-based, so there’s not a great deal of plot. There’s a tragic event in the middle of the book, but it’s foreshadowed for some time, and is no surprise when it happens. It draws some of the characters closer together, although hardly in the sense of their becoming the ‘Best of Friends’, as the blurb on the back suggests. However, they do pull together to consider some fund-raising, and try to support each other, not taking what they have for granted.
It’s not a difficult or stressful read, though I found myself increasingly irritated with Lizzie, who seems to have no clue how to handle her unbelievably self-centred daughter. I also found Abby’s over-protectiveness towards her daughter to be rather annoying; Jess is a very likeable, caring person with a lot of self-confidence. But Abby wants to know where she is and what she’s doing - yet she doesn’t listen, and is unaware of the many stresses that Jess is suffering at school.
It’s a sign of good characterisation when I find myself irritated with people in books; it means I expect more of them, and want to give them advice. So I was glad that one of these problems essentially solved itself, although I found it hard to swallow the sudden change in Debra’s character after a few angry words exchanged with her aunt.
But the most unlikely scenario is that of Abby who does something unbelievably stupid and out of character. It happens fairly early in the book and has repercussions that continue until nearly the end when another rather-too-dramatic event makes both Abby and Tom rethink their priorities.
The pace of the book works well, and the writing is good, if a bit rambling in places. I felt there was too much internal reflection; characters would have a conversation, or learn something new, and then the author would recount their thoughts, which essentially repeated what had just been said or discovered. I also found the constant references to appearances and beauty treatments to be a bit tedious and I was unimpressed that there’s one sordid scene with too much intimate detail.
But at the same time it was a very readable book, and I found myself caring about some of the characters - particularly Jess and Erin. The ending is nicely done, with most of the threads tidily resolved, and the future encouraging and hopeful for most of the people.
‘Best of Friends’ would make a good holiday read for anyone who likes character-based women’s fiction.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
In gradually re-reading the Harry Potter series by JK Rowling again, I reached the fourth book of the septology, ‘Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire’. It’s a long book, well over 600 pages, and when I first read it, it was my least favourite of the series. I recall telling someone that the first part is about an international quidditch match, the main part of the book about some tasks undertaken by four contestants for a major prize, and the end dark and depressing.
However I liked it better the second time I read it, in 2005. This time, I found it almost impossible to put down. I finished reading in just a few days despite being rather busy. And when I had finished, I needed time to process it before even thinking about reading anything else. I then wanted to pick up the fifth book immediately - but I know from experience that I enjoy books more when I spread them out somewhat. So I’ve resisted the temptation and will probably re-read the next book in September.
‘Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire’ begins, unlike the earlier books, with an unpleasant scene in a neglected house in an unknown village. We see lights and hear noises, from the perspective of the unfortunate elderly caretaker. And we then see and overhear some terrible things, which could be quite disturbing to a sensitive child.
The action then moves to Harry, who is staying with his awful relatives, the Dursleys. They loathe anything related to the wizarding world, so when the Weasley family arrive in their blocked up chimney, they are extremely unimpressed. It’s a light-hearted chapter, contrasting nicely with the opening one.
The Quidditch World Cup follows, but the action only takes a chapter or so; more interesting is what’s going on in the stadium, and what happens afterwards. Signs are afoot that the evil Lord Voldemort’s supporters are starting to gather. Harry knows he may be in danger, but he is well protected, and arrives safely at Hogwarts.
There’s yet another new teacher for ‘Defence Against the Dark Arts’. He’s known as Mad-Eye Moody, due to having an artificial eye that travels around his head in a disturbing way. He can see through doors and invisibility cloaks, too. But he is an excellent teacher. And he’s there, in part, to keep an eye on Harry and the international ‘Tri-Wizard Tournament’ which is to take place during the school year.
For the tournament, champions are selected from each of three schools, and must undertake some difficult and dangerous tasks. It would be a spoiler to say what these are, or who partakes. But I found them exciting reading; I knew, reading this time, that this book is far less like a school story than the earlier ones. There are forays into some of the classrooms, but they’re much briefer.
This is the first book where there are hints of romances; Harry and his friends are now fourteen, and just starting to be hormonal. There’s a Christmas ball, too, where everyone is expected to bring a partner. Harry is quite attracted to a girl in another house, but finds it extremely difficult to approach her, to ask if she would be willing to go with him.
Since I have read all the later books, I can appreciate this one more, setting the scene as it does for the battles and final confrontation of the last book in the series. Unlike the first two, this is not a book for younger children. Not that there’s anything overtly inappropriate in it; the bad language that peppers some of the films is only hinted at in the book, when it’s stated that someone swore, or told another person to do something that he would not say in front of a teacher. There are mentions of romantically attached couples embracing in the bushes, but only with the very mildest hints.
However the conflict and tension is up several notches from the earlier books. The champions in the tournament know they may be seriously injured, or die in their quests. We really don’t know who to trust. I had remembered the unexpected revelation that comes near the end of the book, which startled us all when we first read it. Knowing this was coming - like knowing the perpetrator in a mystery book - made me more aware of the reality (so to speak) behind various people’s actions and conversations.
There are some moments of joy, and some light-hearted satirical articles written by an irritating and intrusive journalist. There’s a tense period when Harry’s friend Ron won’t speak to him; and a moving section near the end, when Harry himself breaks down. And then there’s Hermione’s determination to free the apparently enslaved house elves, most of whom are horrified at the idea of being free or earning wages.
The writing is good, the personalities of the important characters are fairly well developed, and the plot of this is, in my opinion, excellent. Each of the first four books has surprises and revelations, but I think the important one in this book is the most unexpected, when read for the first time. Of course, these are intended for older children and teenagers, and as such the language is fairly straightforward. Yet somehow they have a strong appeal to adults too.
I still don’t like what happens in the climax to the book. But seen in the context of the whole, I now realise it was an indication of things to come, and a symbol of the utterly self-centred, indifferent evil of Voldemort. For this whole series involves a battle of good and evil; not that Harry is perfect, by any means. He has no problem breaking school rules, and he regularly neglects his homework, or is untruthful (though never to get anyone else into trouble). But he’s loyal, and courageous, and cares deeply about not just his friends, but almost everyone he comes in contact with.
‘Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire’ could stand alone. It has brief discussions of what happened in previous books when it’s necessary to know. But the ending isn’t really conclusive; instead it leads the way into the next book. It’s much better read as part of the series. In particular, it's important to have read 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban', third in the series.
If you find the length of this book daunting, you could try watching the film version of 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire'. It's well done, and quite dark (appropriately rated 12 in the UK) but it inevitably misses out quite big chunks of the book.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
From time to time I check for free downloads for my Kindle. Around a year ago, I downloaded an interesting looking short book called ‘Enriching your prayers’. I had never heard of Mark McDowell - also known as Markus McDowell - but am always willing to try something that sounds appealing, which has good reviews, and which is free.
The subtitle to this book is rather lengthy: ‘How to study the prayers of the Bible: A companion to the praying through the Bible series’. That explains why it’s free. This book is a general guide to the author’s methods in a somewhat ambitious project he has undertaken: to understand and pray through all the recorded prayers in the Bible.
The material is well-presented, and the writing is straightforward. Not that it offered anything that was new to me, but to some who tend to take the Bible literally, it could be quite eye-opening. And it’s a good reminder, too, that any passage of the Bible must be looked at in different ways, or from different angles, if we are to understand it fully and see what it means to us as individuals or groups today.
The main points the author makes are that we need to explore the context in which each passage or prayer was written. What was the approximate date? What culture was it in? Who was the author, and what was the purpose of the prayer? It’s obvious to me that we need to take these things into account; whatever one believes about the Bible’s inspiration or accuracy, it was written down by individual people, with their own styles of writing, with particular audiences or purposes.
This book also discusses nine different styles of praying - rather more than the four kinds which are often discussed. The author gives examples of each, and it was helpful to see his distinctions between (for instance) petition and intercession. But as he also explains, what is important is to pray - to be in relationship with God. Seeing distinct kinds of prayer (albeit with much overlap) can help us understand more why certain Biblical prayers were written down. They can help us, too. But we are all unique individuals, and the way we deal with problems or offer thanks are going to differ for each person.
My only minor annoyance with this book was the way the author kept mentioning his project, as a not-too-subtle way of advertising his other books. It was mostly in the introduction, but not exclusively. It certainly didn’t tempt me to get hold of any of his other books.
Still, as a free Kindle book, it made an interesting read and I would recommend it. The link above is to the paperback edition of this book, as the Kindle one is no longer free.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
I do enjoy reading and re-reading the novels by the late Rosamunde Pilcher. She had such a talent for creating warm, believable people that I feel as if I’m saying goodbye to friends as I finish her books. I’ve been re-reading them for the third or fourth time over the past few years, and have just completed ‘The Carousel’. It’s a short book, less than 200 pages, but has always been one of my favourites.
It’s only nine years since I last read this book. I recalled the general storyline, although I had forgotten most of the details. Prue is the main character, and she narrates the book. She’s twenty-two and works for an art gallery. She’s not keen on the idea of settling down into a conventional married life. But she’s been seeing the highly presentable (and rather nice) Nigel, and has been invited to Scotland to meet his parents.
Prue’s mother is thrilled, but Prue wants an excuse to decline. So when her delightfully bohemian aunt Phoebe calls to say she’s broken her arm, Prue has no hesitation in agreeing to go and stay with her for a couple of weeks, to help out and do some driving.
On the train down to Cornwall Prue meets the rather nervous ten-year-old Charlotte. In one of Pilcher’s typical coincidences, they are going to the same village. Charlotte knows Phoebe well; she’s been to stay with her grandmother in the village before, and has spent time with Phoebe.
Charlotte is usually at boarding school but the boiler blew up. Her mother has gone abroad and her father works hard and doesn’t want her about. Her grandmother in Cornwall isn’t exactly warm and cosy but has agreed to have her to stay. Prue is quite taken with Charlotte, and also feels desperately sorry for her.
This sets the scene for a gentle story, encompassing some very different but extremely likeable people. A young man appears, who was a former student of Phoebe’s late partner Chips. He is quite well-known in the art world, but doesn’t much like fame and his desire to be free and unencumbered is even stronger than Prue’s. But in the meantime they get along very well…
There’s not a great deal of action in this book. The carousel which gives its name to the title is a minor device, really; a toy made for Prue by Chips years previously, out of an old record player. Charlotte loves playing with it, and Prue is happy to see it loved; but it’s not really significant, other than as a symbol of the connection between them.
The story is more about Charlotte and her family than anyone else. Prue recognises that, despite her parents having divorced when she was younger, and despite being a very different person from her mother, she had a happy childhood and always knew she was loved. Charlotte does not have this security. Yet she’s quite a self-assured child, and readily opens up when offered a listening ear.
The setting - contemporary in the early 1980s - is very much in the well-off upper middle classes. Boarding schools for children are not unusual, and everyone has at least a daily help for housework, and probably cooking too. Charlotte’s grandmother, in one scene, appears unable even to make a cup of coffee. It’s an alien world, one which I wasn’t part of even when this book was written. Equality, apparently, didn’t exist. Attitudes are sexist - although Prue rather rebels against that - and undoubtedly classist. It has to be accepted as appropriate for the era, and the people the author was writing about.
There are no really ‘bad’ people in most of Rosamunde Pilcher’s books. Charlotte’s mother is selfish and materialistic, but not malicious. And she doesn’t actually appear in this book, other than in discussion. People are three-dimensional because they make mistakes; yet these mistakes are redeemed in so many ways. Kindness, generosity and hospitality are important values displayed by the people we are supposed to like, and it works.
It’s light-weight, poignant in places, and very enjoyable. I finished ‘The Carousel’ all too quickly, sorry once again to leave these people behind, but looking forward, already, to re-reading once more in another nine or ten years.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
I am glad I decided to re-read my novels by Mary Stewart. The somewhat tense adventure stories she wrote in the middle of last century are not my preferred genre. Yet I read some of her books as a teenager, and re-discovered them - and others - as an adult. She created believable characters and excellent stories, with the tension never quite turning into horror.
I last read ‘The Gabriel Hounds’ in 2006 and had entirely forgotten what it was about. The main character is Christy and the book is told in the first person from her perspective. We meet her first in a shop in Damascus, where she has lost sight of the touring party she is with. But she spots her cousin Charles and is delighted to be reunited with him. She knew he was in the Middle East, and it turns out that he has deliberately come to find her, so it’s not as much of a coincidence as it first appears.
Charles is of similar age to Christy, and they grew up together, the children of identical twins. They are best friends, but until now have seen each other in a sibling relationship rather than anything stronger. Christy has already made plans to stay in Lebanon, once she gets there, longer than the rest of her party, and Charles agrees to meet her there when he has finished some business.
They discuss their eccentric Great Aunt Harriet, who has been living something of a hermit life in a large house in Lebanon, not far from where Christy will be staying. She’s over eighty and known to be in somewhat failing health, but Charles, at least, remembers her with fondness and they agree to make a visit together a few days later.
But Christy decides, on impulse, to see if she can visit her great-aunt a day earlier. She’s been on a car tour of the area and happens to come close to her aunt’s home. She finds it remarkably difficult to gain entrance; there’s a surly guard who seems to have difficulty speaking at all, a resentful maid, and a young man who is apparently in residence, looking after the household. Everywhere seems dilapidated, even dirty… and Christy is beginning to feel that something suspicious is going on. But then it’s agreed that she can have an audience with her aunt so long as she’s prepared to wait until after 10pm. For one of Aunt Harriet’s eccentricities is that she sleeps in the daytime, and is awake only at night.
There’s a legend about some dogs that bay when someone is about to die; but although they give their name to the book, they don’t actually play that big a part in it. Unlike some of Mary Stewart’s novels, there wasn’t much tension in the early part of the book. And in the later part, while there’s a lot of action and excitement, there isn’t any of the underlying low-key trepidation that I’ve come to expect.
I found some of the description of Aunt Harriet’s home rather confusing. There are passages and different areas, inside and outside. More than once when someone was somewhere outside, I was a tad mystified that they had to get inside and then outside again by a different exit before they were free of the building. I’m not good at visualising and after struggling to make sense of the house, I gave up and just accepted the story. It’s meant to be something of a large and confusing house, but after some exploration, Christy becomes more familiar with it. It might have added to the story if I had been able to follow the geography of the house, but I don’t think it mattered over-much.
There are various revelations and twists to the story, one or two of which I saw coming, but not the majority. I don’t think I had remembered anything, at first. But both Christy and Charles felt somewhat familiar to me, and I did vaguely recall a couple of incidents, as they happened.
Overall I liked this book very much. It was a little slow to get started, but by the time I was half-way through it was very difficult to put down.
Recommended.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
I have gradually acquired most of Sue Moorcroft’s novels after first coming across her writing about twelve years ago. She creates believable, warm characters with interesting plots, and her stories are often set in Mediterranean countries. I was given ‘One Summer in Italy’ for my birthday a few months ago, and have just finished reading it.
Sofia is the main character of this novel. She can barely remember her mother, who died when she was little, but she adores her Italian father. He becomes ill with heart disease and she looks after him for some years. She promises him that after he’s gone, she won’t mope, and that she will go to his family village and speak to his brother.
After a prologue showing this, the story moves forward a year, to the start of summer in the Italian village of Monteliberta. Sofia is working there as a waitress at a hotel. She has some experience, and is finding herself mentoring 18-year-old Amy. Amy is eager to learn but rather naive, and doesn’t know how to handle amorous young men.
Into the scene arrives Levi, a biker in his mid-thirties who has come to stay at the hotel as a guest. He stands up for Amy in an altercation with the owner’s son, and soon becomes friends with Sofia. Guests and staff are not allowed to be romantically involved, but there’s a clear attraction on Sofia’s part, although she’s a bit concerned that he’s spending a lot of time watching Amy, who is much too young and innocent for him…
Amy, moreover, clearly has some family problems. It doesn’t take long for Sofia to learn that she ran away from home. She did not take her last school exams, she has decided not to go to university, and she and is not speaking to her parents, although she is in contact on social media with her two younger brothers. The incident that caused this to happen is only gradually revealed as the book progresses.
All the main characters, as I’ve come to expect with Sue Moorcraft, are likeable and three-dimensional. I particularly found myself identifying with Sofia. Not that I am at all adventurous, but I liked her very much. Having said that, I did find one or two of her attitudes a bit bizarre, including her determination to try a ‘one-night stand’, which does not seem at all in keeping with her personality. However the fact that I found this rather jarring perhaps demonstrates just how real she had become in my mind.
The one quirk of this author that I don’t much like is that there always seems to be a too-detailed bedroom scene, usually when two characters ‘get together’ for the first time. When I feel as if people in books are becoming my friends, I really don’t want to know what they get up to in private. But in this book I saw it coming, so I skipped a couple of pages ahead to the morning after. Thankfully the bedroom doors remained firmly closed in subsequent encounters.
Other than that, and a tad more bad language than I’m comfortable with, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Secrets emerge from the past, relationships develop, and the book flows at an excellent pace. I thought Amy was an excellent creation: she’s impulsive and hot-tempered, prone to running away from problems. She's undoubtedly immature and somewhat self-centred, too. Yet she's extremely kind-hearted and can be unexpectedly generous. She's willing to listen to reason, at times, and by the end of the book she is beginning to see other people's point of view as well as her own.
Sofia, too, is likeable, honest and caring. She is determined to be free to travel, but can’t quite shake off her instincts to protect Amy. When she’s caught between two people she cares about, having to keep one person’s secrets from the other, for excellent reasons, she finds this immensely stressful. It fits well with her general integrity and honesty.
It’s light-weight reading on the whole; no serious issues are explored in any depth in this book. Still, there’s more than a nod towards the complexities of many families, and also the way that some homeless people are treated. There’s a side thread about a large website and possible sabotage, but it isn’t necessary to know anything about technology or social media to get at least the gist of what is happening.
By the time I was half-way through this book, I could hardly bear to put it down. The ending is perhaps a tad predictable, but I didn't mind that at all. Definitely recommended to anyone who enjoys light women’s fiction with warm, believable characters.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
I’m so glad I decided to re-read my Libby Purves novels. I am thoroughly enjoying them. It’s such a long time since I first read most of them that it’s almost like having new books to read - with the advantage that I know in advance that I am going to enjoy them.
I have just finished ‘A Free Woman’, which I read in 2003. I did not recall anything about any of the characters or the storyline when I started. It’s about two adult sisters, Sarah and Maggie, who are in their thirties. Sarah is a contented, domesticated mother of three. She works part time at the local vets, but is happiest at home, cooking and looking after the house and children.
Sarah is happily married to Leo, and they have three children. Samantha is fifteen, and has been rather moody recently. But Sarah is broad-minded and encouraging, and tries to keep communication lines open. She doesn’t approve at all of Samantha’s boyfriend Duane, but is trying to make the best of things and has even invited him to meals a couple of times. Jamie is her middle child; he’s twelve, and going through an awkward stage. We don’t actually get to know Jamie very well, but he’s a nice enough child. Teddy, the youngest, is still affectionate and tends to speak out whatever is on his mind.
Into this happy domestication arrives Maggie, after travelling around the world, and spending some time working as an assistant cook on a yacht. She loves the sea, and hates the thought of putting down roots. But every so often she reappears for a short period; she’s very fond of her relatives, and they like her stories and sense of adventure, despite finding her a bit bizarre at times. Maggie is planning a trip to China, and discovers that she can take an intensive course in Chinese language at a local college. So her visit extends.
Then she discovers something that has the potential to change her life forever. And there are hints that she has dark secrets from her past, which are forcing themselves into her conscious mind. By the time she reveals what exactly happened, in a shocking shouting match at the end of a chapter, it had become obvious what had happened in the past. I assume the author intended the readers to pick up on this before Maggie lets it out; it’s cleverly done.
The latter part of the book then sees the family divided, fragmented by various events. We see the potential for disaster as communication grows more difficult, and Sarah becomes intransigent. Maggie is convinced that she should throw off the shackles of family life; she makes plans for her future, determined to remain free….
It’s an excellent book. The writing is fast-paced, the characters are three-dimensional and all so believable. The worries of teenage life are as important to Samantha as more ‘adult’ concerns in her mother and aunt; family life is well portrayed, with its often precarious balance of different people trying to live together. Some significant controversial issues are discussed, but since opinions are clearly those of the characters, it would be possible to read the book while disagreeing with what the characters believe and do.
I did not see the eventual resolution of the book coming; that, too, is cleverly done, throwing more confusion into Sarah’s life, yet somehow helping her to see more clearly. It ends a tad too abruptly for my taste; the conclusion is hopeful and positive, but I’d have liked to see one or two ends tied up a little more satisfactorily. But perhaps that would have dragged. Ending where it does leaves the direction clear, but the details up to the reader.
By the time I was half-way through this book I could hardly put it down. I would recommend ‘A Free Woman’ highly to anyone who likes women’s fiction with some important issues raised.
I hope it won’t be as long as sixteen years before I next re-read this book.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
I was idly browsing a church book stall a few months ago when I spotted a book with the intriguing title, ‘Sold to the man with the tin leg’. I had not come across the author, Philip Serrell, before; apparently he is a popular TV presenter nowadays. A quick glance at the back of the book suggested that it was in the style popularised by James Herriot. The author of this book was an auctioneer, and the book contained some of his amusing memories as a trainee.
So I paid fifty cents for it, and the book sat on my to-be-read shelf for a while. But I finally picked it up to read this week, and have just finished reading it. It does indeed contain accounts of the author’s early forays into the world of an auctioneer. He learns to collect and value items, to visit outlying farms and negotiate with the owners, and - on occasion - actually to sell things.
This book is, as it turns out, a sequel to ‘An auctioneer’s lot’, but there is no need to have read that first. I assume that book covers his initial decision to give up his job as a sports teacher and learn a new trade, and I have to admit to mild curiosity as to why anyone would do that. But not sufficient to get hold of the book. In this one, set in 1977, Philip is twenty-two. He has been working with a somewhat disorganised (but quite successful) auctioneer called Mr Rayer for about a year.
Inevitably Philip makes some mistakes: over-valuing, under-valuing, mistaking signs in an auction, being taken in by fraud, and more. He has to climb through mud, drive long distances, and sometimes deal with folk with various afflictions, some of them rather smelly. There is the material for a very amusing book here.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite work. There’s too much detail in places that don’t need it, and rather a lot of introspection rather than action. Most of the outcomes of the chapters could be foreseen from a few pages earlier, meaning that the punch-line or ‘twist’ was entirely expected. People’s idiosyncrasies are mostly explained rather than shown, and I found myself increasingly mystified as to why anyone could possibly enjoy this kind of work.
Still, it was quite interesting to see what the job of country auctioneer was like forty years ago. And while some of the people in the accounts seem highly caricatured, Philip himself comes across as a likeable, enthusiastic and gentle person. There’s also a very low-key budding romantic thread, although it’s left rather open at the end - and I don’t think there’s a sequel to this book.
I kept reading, and didn’t dislike it. It's gentle, and it shows a form of life which has probably long ceased. It's a good book to dip into, as each chapter is complete in itself. Indeed, it's evidently quite popular and is still in print, thirteen years after publication.
But it didn't really grab me, and I doubt if I’ll read it again.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
I have liked everything I have read by Adrian Plass. He is one of my all-time favourite writers, and has produced quite an array of different kinds of book. He is best known, probably, for his humorous ‘Sacred Diary’ series, but he has written some more serious books as well. So when I saw ‘Why I Follow Jesus’ at a church book sale, I had no hesitation in acquiring it.
It’s not a long book - only 130 pages - so thought it might be an evangelistic work. Indeed, that's probably why I had not bought or asked for this book years earlier. It sat on my to-be-read shelf for a few months, but finally I decided to read it a couple of weeks ago. It turned out to be a very enjoyable read. There was much that was thought-provoking, and although it’s quite light-weight, I didn’t read more than about ten pages per day.
It’s divided into about 35 little sections, each no more than four or five pages long. The first one is simply entitled, ‘Why I follow Jesus’, and is an overview, and the second one talks about being with his friends forever, so could perhaps be mistaken for an evangelistic message. But there’s no preaching. Plass talks not about his friends, those he cares for the most, and those he doesn’t care for so much. He makes the point that, if we want to spend eternity with people of every shape, size and tendency, it would be a good idea to be friends with them now.
Some of the other headings are ones I might have come up with myself, but each time the content includes something unexpected. Adrian Plass has a gift for making people think, often through self-deprecating humour, or acknowledgement of his own mistakes or frailties. He is honest about himself and shares relevant anecdotes about friends and family, to make his excellent points.
Other headings are less predictable. I was a tad surprised, for instance, to read ‘I follow Jesus because he’s so good at judo’. The point being not that Jesus is into martial arts in a literal sense, but that he uses people’s strengths and weaknesses. I think my favourite heading, however, was ‘I follow Jesus because he doesn’t ask me to adapt as much as Saint John of the Cross would have had to if he’d been booked to address the West Fittlewick Over-Sixties Interdenominational Ladies’ Afternoon Club at three o’clock on a wet Thursday afternoon in November.’ The section below enlarged on this somewhat, and was quite amusing, but the title really said it all.
I found myself agreeing with almost everything in this book, and appreciated the way it was all written. There were places that made me smile, although this isn’t Plass at his most humorous. There are places that are quite moving, too, as he opens his heart and shares incidents from his life to make a point. The writing - as I expect - is excellent, and I’m glad I read it.
Definitely recommended.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
I do like Georgette Heyer’s historical romance novels. They feel authentic, the characterisation is excellent, and the stories very well crafted. I last read ‘Sylvester’ back in 2008, so it was definitely time for a re-read. I had entirely forgotten the story before I started, although I soon recalled the gist of it.
Sylvester, the Duke of Salford, is a complex and three-dimensional character whom we meet in the first chapter. He was born to wealth and aristocracy, and knew from babyhood that he would one day be a Duke. He is courteous, and very kind to those he cares for.
Sylvester is also always scrupulously polite to people who serve him as well, but we quickly learn that this civility is from a sense of duty rather than genuine philanthropy. He expects his servants to do his bidding, and is grateful; but he hardly seems aware that they have lives, and possibly problems of their own.
He feels that the time has come for him to get married. So he has selected five possible young women of his acquaintance. He presents their names to his mother… and asks her which one he should marry. Sylvester’s mother, who is an invalid, is a wonderfully warm character and I was sorry she didn’t appear more than she does. She would like him to fall in love, and mentions that she and a late friend jokingly betrothed him to the friend’s daughter almost two decades earlier….
Phoebe is the girl in question. She is no beauty, and thinks little of consequence or appearance. She’s prone to say what she thinks, she has a quirky sense of the ridiculous… and she is also a writer. She is no longer a debutante; brought up by a fair but unloving and often critical stepmother she has not developed any sense of style or confidence. She has decided to remain a spinster. She hopes to get a book published, and then live quietly with her beloved governess as a writer.
The initial meeting between Phoebe and Sylvester does not go well. And it goes downhill from there. Sylvester is bored; Phoebe terrified that he might offer for her- and she can think of nothing worse. So she takes matters into her own hands.
It’s a complex book with several different storylines running alongside each other. Clearly Phoebe and Sylvester will eventually decide they like each other, but it takes a crisis for them even to begin to get to know each other. Meanwhile Sylvester is also clashing with his sister-in-law about the guardianship of his young nephew, as the sister-in-law wants to get married to the wonderfully arrogant Sir Nugent. He is a caricatured upper-class dandy, not unkind or cruel, but self-centred and materialistic in the extreme.
There’s also an ongoing thread about the book Phoebe has written, and its ramifications. I don’t remember any of Heyer’s other books including a young author; that’s the part of the story I remembered. It wouldn’t have mattered if I had recalled the entire plot. It’s an excellent book, with a couple of passages where I chuckled aloud, and several that made me smile. Sir Nugent is a source of comedy but has no idea that he is ridiculous.
The writing is fast-paced for this genre, and I could barely put the book down once I had got into it. It was very enjoyable and I look forward to reading it again in another five or six years.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
Although I have read all the Discworld books by Terry Pratchett, some of them soon after publication, I have not re-read most of them. So I decided to read through the entire series, in order, this year. Not all at once, but interspersed with other authors whose works I am re-reading, and new books I have been given or have acquired second-hand.
So I came to ‘Mort’, the fourth Discworld book. This is one of the few of the series which I had read twice; the last time was in 2009. This is the first book in which Death has any real characterisation, and the one in which he takes on an apprentice. He chooses the aptly named Mort (short for Mortimer) who is tall and gangly, and has no interest at all in following in his father’s footsteps as a horticulturist.
Mort has no idea what to expect, but quickly learns ‘the duty’ - that of cutting the soul of a dying person away from their physical body, so that the soul can go on to whatever future the person believed in. It’s an interesting philosophy, one which is expounded on more in later books. In this one, it’s merely expressed as something factual.
Death’s domain is mostly black, larger on the inside than it would appear. Mort is fed by the elderly Albert, and clothed (albeit in black). He starts by learning to muck out the stables, and getting to know Death’s horse who has the wonderfully inappropriate name of Binky. Mort also comes across Ysabelle, Death’s adopted daughter, who has lived there for many years but has not grown any older.
As Mort becomes more competent, he is allowed to do the ‘Duty’ by himself. Death appears to be having something of a personality crisis; he tries various human pursuits, such as drinking or fishing, with the hope of learning what is meant by the word ‘fun’. And eventually finds a new (albeit temporary) career at which he is an expert…
Meanwhile Mort is becoming more like his master, but retains his human emotions, and is horrified at the thought that an attractive princess might die. So he changes history as it’s being made, so to speak, affecting the local reality and potentially the entire life on the Disc…
Unlike some of Pratchett’s later books, the story is fairly straightforwardly told. We see Mort’s viewpoint primarily, and sometimes Death’s, but there are not dozens of different storylines to follow. There are no chapters, as is the norm with this series, but plenty of section breaks where the action moves elsewhere.
There’s some ironic humour, some quite thought-provoking sections, and some tension towards the end as Mort tries to unravel the disaster he has triggered.
I found it an enjoyable story overall, with a positive ending. It stands alone; Mort is a new character, and while we briefly meet the wizard Rincewind, who featured heavily in ‘The Colour of Magic’ and ‘The Light Fantastic’, it wouldn’t matter at all if someone read this book with no idea who he was. I didn’t notice any overlap at all with characters from the third book, ‘Equal Rites’, although perhaps some of the other wizards mentioned (in passing) in this book also featured in that.
Recommended to anyone, adults or teenagers who like this style of satirical fantasy. There are innuendos scattered throughout the book, but if a younger child read this, I should think they would mostly go over their heads.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
On the whole I have very much liked the novels I have read by Catherine Ryan Hyde. The first one I came across was ‘Love in the Present Tense’, which I read over twelve years ago. But her best-known book is probably ‘Pay it Forward’, which I read nearly a year later, and which was made into a popular film. I have put various books by this author on my wish-list, and was given ‘Heaven Adjacent’ for Christmas last year. I have just finished reading it.
The novel is about a middle-aged woman called Roseanna. We first meet her three months after she has made an unexpected and rather dramatic move from a high-powered job in Manhattan a rambling small shack in the countryside. There are some metal animals, made from junk, which she has made and which attract some local attention. And she meets a young man, a reporter from a newspaper, who wants to interview her.
Roseanna is reluctant to agree, as she doesn’t want her former colleagues - or even her friends - to know where she is. But the reporter is intrigued by her lifestyle - and it’s a clever device, as their conversation left me wondering, too, what had led to the move, and who the various random people are wandering around. Roseanna claims that she wants peace and quiet, but there’s a small girl making a lot of noise, a dog, a young man offering her fresh fish, and an old man chopping wood…
After a couple of chapters, when Roseanna’s son Lance manages to find her, we’re taken back three months to the actual move. We know that she has lost Alice, a close friend and colleague, unexpectedly, although the details don’t become clear until later in the book. But what triggers her sudden decision is a little thing. She is evidently in need of a break of some kind, and decides to drive as far as she can on one tank of fuel, and then see what happens.
The novel is written in chunks of time, before and after the move, gradually filling in the story. Roseanna’s life was full of stress, working harder and harder so that she can buy more and more stuff. She was almost estranged from Lance, but never took the time to think about what really mattered until her friend Alice suddenly died. But what she thinks she really wants is not necessarily what she discovers, eventually, that she really wants.
The location is, as several people say, the next best thing to paradise - hence the title of the book. Yet the life Roseanna chooses to live is devoid of almost every modern comfort. She has electricity and water, but has to climb a nearby hill to get mobile phone reception. There is no heating or cooling in her house, and it’s not in great condition at all. There’s a shack near the back where there are some squatters, and she has the kind of location that attracts casual campers too. There’s also a barn, piled high with old car parts and other rubbish.
The characters are three-dimensional, on the whole. It’s essentially a character-based story, but I could not relate to either section of Roseanna’s life. I would never work in a high-powered stressful job as a lawyer; but neither would I want to throw up everything and start over in somewhat primitive conditions. On the other hand, I could relate to her needing peace and her own space, while also caring very much about individual people.
I don’t know why this book got under my skin quite the way it did. But although it took me a few chapters to get into it, I found myself reading at every odd moment, and then could hardly put it down towards the end. I liked the growing relationship that develops between Roseanna and her son in this unlikely place, and also the friendships that happen despite her wanting to back off. I didn’t entirely understand one of the significant parts of the book - being sued for a huge amount by a former colleague - but then I don’t understand the litigious culture of the United States. I didn’t expect what eventually happened to resolve this, either.
There’s some mild humour, some poignancy, and some quite moving scenes. In places I was reminded somewhat of Anne Tyler's style of writing, although it's a while since I've read any of her books. Even though Roseanna’s choices and options are not mine, the book is quite thought-provoking in places. Overall I thought this an uplifting and encouraging book. The ending is positive, tying up several loose ends as Rosanna has worked out what is really important to her. The novel comes full circle in a sense, as the reporter re-appears to find out how she is doing.
Recommended.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
There are some books which I read once and never again. Some which I reread after a period of perhaps nine or ten years. And some which I reread over and over, because they are such excellent stories. One such series is ‘Harry Potter’ by JK Rowling.
The books were considered controversial in the 1990s, and the author herself attracts negative publicity from time to time. But I now consider the books to be classics, of a kind almost comparable to CS Lewis’s ‘Narnia’ series in their scope and allegorical meanings, and in the quality of the writing.
So, having reread ‘Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets’ last month, it was time for the third book in the series, ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’. This has always ranked as my favourite book in the entire series; I was a tad surprised to find that it’s only four years since I last read it; less surprised to find that although it was only published in 1999 (how can that be twenty years ago?!), I have now read ‘Azkaban’ five times.
Unsurprisingly, I did recall the main storyline. The first time I read this book, it was an extremely tense one; having been fooled by the identities of the ‘bad guys’ in the first two books, it seemed pretty clear who was not to be trusted in this one. And it’s darker than the first two books. We quickly learn that there’s an escaped prisoner loose; even the non-magical Muggle world hear about him on the news. Harry’s life is fairly miserable at home anyway, with the caricatured awful Dursleys, and the utterly awful Aunt Marge. He does something which may lead to his being expelled from Hogwarts, and in despair decides to run away…
Naturally events conspire for Harry to be picked up by an unusual bus, and looked after by friends and acquaintances who care for him. But he overhears things that worry him… and it looks as though it’s going to be a difficult term at school, with increased lessons, and no permission slip to visit the local Hogsmeade area at weekends. Still, there’s always Quidditch to look forward to, and being with his friends is always preferable to being with his aunt and uncle.
The Harry Potter series works because they’re basically school stories, set in a magical world that is very close to the real world. They’re ‘world-within-a-world’ high fantasy, which is the kind I like best. There are magical creatures and techniques, but Hogwarts and the wizarding world co-exists with the real ‘Muggle’ world.
There’s some humour, and some very tense moments in this book, even though I knew what was coming. There’s good characterisation, too; some of the minor characters might be stereotypes or caricatures, and Hermione is, at times, a bit too exaggeratedly hard-working and moralistic. But Harry and his friend Ron Weasley, though very different from each other, are both believable and essentially very likeable.
We learn more about Harry’s parents in this book, in particular about some of his father’s friends and also his abilities. We discover that James wasn’t always well-behaved, and that Harry has inherited a lot of his traits. This book sees the beginning of the return of the ‘dark lord’ to power, although the way it happens was something I did not begin to guess when I read the book for the first time. Rereading, I realise there are many clues; it’s cleverly written, and once again I enjoyed it very much.
I would definitely recommend ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’ to anyone from the age of about eleven or twelve upwards. Best read after the first two books, however. Note that some parts of this book could be disturbing to a younger or very sensitive child, as could the later books in the series. The film version of ‘Azkaban’ is well done, but I’m glad I had read the book before I saw it, as it’s quite fast-paced and a lot of the subtleties are lost.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
Although I have read and reread regularly all the Chalet School books by Elinor M Brent-Dyer for over forty years, I had only read about three of her much shorter ‘La Rochelle’ series. I was delighted to learn a few years ago that they had all been reprinted by Girls Gone By, and managed to acquire them all from various sources in the past couple of years. I’m currently reading them through, interspersed with other books.
I bought ‘Heather Leaves School’ (fifth in the series) from a second-hand online bookshop last year. I read the fourth La Rochelle book, ‘Seven Scamps’ in the middle of June. I had not read either of these books before.
Heather Raphael is fourteen, and has been a boarder at the (fictional) Ripley school for girls. It’s quickly clear that she has fallen into some bad habits and attitudes and her father has decided to withdraw her. This book was written in 1929 so the faults in Heather would seem rather mild by today’s standards, but Brent-Dyer was very against what she called ‘slang’. And Heather does seem to be quite rude and abrupt. Other parents have made the same decision, but Heather is particularly upset that her father does not propose to send her to a different school: he is going to keep her at home, with her younger sisters’ governess, and they will be joined by four girls from the local Vicarage.
Heather is determined to sulk, but after leaving school (which happens in the first few chapters) the family go to Guernsey for a couple of months for a long holiday. There they meet Janie Temple and Pauline Ozanne, introduced in ‘The Maids of La Rochelle’ (third in the series), and become friendly with them. Janie, who is now 18, is a quietly positive influence on Heather, and her language and attitudes gradually improve.
In September, they return to the mainland, and lessons start. Miss Christopher, the governess, is clearly an excellent teacher. And while the eldest vicarage girl, Cressie, is obnoxiously arrogant and opinionated, her sisters, (Hero, Portia and Pat) are friendly and likeable, and Heather finds that she is enjoying being educated at home rather more than she expects.
There’s excitement in the book when an unexpected monk’s passage is found in the house, as well as poignancy and sadness, due to a young man they know who is very ill. There are day-to-day happenings - walks, and conversation, and so on - and friendships are gradually developed. The book stands alone; the two main families are new in this book. It’s more interesting (in my opinion) to read it in sequence with the other La Rochelle books, but Janie’s older sisters, now married with babies, have only the smallest part to play. And other characters from the earlier books don’t appear in this one at all.
All in all, I enjoyed this story. Definitely recommended to anyone who likes schools stories intended for teenagers, and particularly to anyone who is a Chalet School fan. This series fills in a few gaps and gives the background to several of the families who appear in the Channel Islands era of the Chalet School.
The introduction to the GGB edition I have is only very brief, outlining the writing history of the La Rochelle books with their connections.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
I can’t remember where I read an enthusiastic review of ‘The Orthodox Heretic and other impossible tales’. I had not heard of the author, Peter Rollins, but I was curious enough to check some reviews, and they seemed very mixed. Readers either loved the book, or thought it, essentially, heretical. It sounded like an intriguing read, so I added it to my wishlist.
I was given the book for my birthday a couple of months ago, and started reading it about a week ago. The introduction explains that these are stories - modern parables, to shake up people’s ideas and make them think. The author suggested reading them slowly, only one or two at a time. Since each is complete in itself, albeit with a brief commentary afterwards, it seemed like a good idea not to read the book in just a couple of sittings.
However, I read more than one story per day. The blurb on the back says that they are ‘provocative and often disturbing tales’, and I would agree. They’re quite a mixed bunch. Some appear to tell one of the Biblical parables, but with a different twist at the end. Some are entirely non-Biblical. Some pick up on phrases or beliefs that are popular in some Christian circles, and explore them in more depth. One or two verged on the outright heretical. I could see, in some, why more conservative readers might consider them wrong, even misleading.
But even as I found myself recoiling, a couple of times, I could see that this was due to some of my preconceived ideas. These stories don’t have the authority of Scripture, of course - but they are very thought-provoking. As, indeed, were the parables Jesus told, some of which would have made the religious leaders of his time very angry. But they’re stories - and stories reach into our emotions and make us ponder in ways entirely differently from direct teaching or exposition.
I can’t say that all the stories struck me equally. Sometimes I read one, and shrugged a little, and moved on. Different people will be affected in different ways, I’m sure, and not every story will strike a chord in every listener. The same was most likely true in Jesus’ time.
I don’t like dramas or stories being explained, in general. However, although I was a bit dubious about reading the commentaries after each story, the author manages to avoid insulting the reader’s intelligence. They are more along the lines of how the idea for the story came into being, and other meta-comments rather than hand-holding detailed explanations. And I found them interesting, on the whole.
The book is divided into three broad sections: Beyond Belief, God is Now Here (or Nowhere, depending on how one reads it) and Transformations. I couldn’t really tell the difference between those in the first and second sections, but the third one does indeed tell stories of different ways in which people’s hearts and minds were transformed in some way.
I know some folk will find it too disturbing, and some will write it off as completely off the wall. But I would recommend it to anyone wanting to be pushed a little out of their comfort zone. At least one or two of these stories will remain with me for some time, I’m sure.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
I so enjoyed the first book I read by Cathy Bramley (‘Wickham Hall’) that I put a couple of other books she had written on my wish list last year. I was delighted to be given them for my birthday this year, and have just finished reading ‘The Lemon Tree Cafe’.
The story is narrated by a young woman called Rosie. She’s clearly a person of strong principles, as we learn in the first chapter. She works for a high-powered social media company, where she’s considered an expert in some fields. But she refuses to compromise what she believes is right, and walks out of the job.
She has some savings, and expects to find another job fairly easily, as she has been head-hunted before. But first she pops into her grandmother’s village café. It’s a popular place, selling home-made light meals and cakes, as well as high quality teas and coffees. For many, it’s a focal point or meeting place.
However, the two women who work there consider that Maria, Rosie’s grandmother, is getting a bit absent-minded. She doesn’t keep proper accounts, and she has been muddling up some of the recent orders. She doesn’t notice when things need thorough cleaning, and won’t allow her assistants to stay behind after she has left.
So Rosie offers to help out for a few weeks. She knows that Maria is stubborn and resists any hint that she needs more help; she’s a feisty Italian 75-year-old who won’t acknowledge that it may be time to slow down a little…
A lot happens in the course of the month. Rosie, who clearly has a very unpleasant memory of a former relationship, meets someone she finds attractive but she keeps backing off. Maria, too, has a suitor: the elderly Stanley. But she, too, doesn’t seem to want to get too close. She won’t talk about her past either, nor does she seem to have any photos of Rosie’s grandfather.
Then the owner of a local business dies unexpectedly, and his wife is persuaded to sell at a low price. The property is taken over by a mega-store selling cheap plants, stationery and more - and is going to start a cafe, too, which is likely to rival Maria’s café. So Rosie’s social media skills are put to good use as they put up a fight to save the local village shops.
There are lots of characters, a tad too many for my liking, but apparently at least one of them had a book of her own, so it might have helped had I read that first. I mostly managed to remember who was whom; some of them are a little caricatured, but I liked Stanley very much, and also four-year-old Noah. I liked Maria, too. I wasn’t entirely sure that her somewhat stilted English is realistic after living over forty years in England, but her malapropisms are very amusing in places.
I became quite fond of Rosie too, although she’s a very different kind of person from me. But I admired the stands she took, albeit feeling that she was as stubborn as her grandmother at times…
There are some ‘issues’ covered in the book making it a little deeper than many books in the popular cafe/restaurant genre. It would be a spoiler to say what they are, other than the initial one in the first chapter when Rosie refuses to change a model’s appearance artificially. Perhaps some of them are touched on too lightly; almost as a token offering to those who expect ‘minority’ themes. But they’re mostly done sensitively.
It took me a while to get into the book. It’s pleasant light reading, somewhat informal but that isn’t too much of a problem when it’s a first person narration. However nothing really grabbed me until around half-way through, when I realised that some of the characters were getting under my skin. I wanted to know what Maria’s secret was. Rosie’s was fairly obvious, although the eventual resolution of that has an unexpected twist.
Overall, I liked it very much. As with the first book I read by Cathy Bramley, I particularly appreciated that there’s almost no bad language and no overt scenes of violence or intimacy, despite a few hints of both. The ending ties everything together perhaps a little too neatly, but I don't mind that. I want a book to have a positive ending, and for as many threads as possible to be resolved.
Recommended, if you undemanding light women’s fiction. There's a bonus of some rather tasty-looking recipes at the back, too.
Review copyright 2019 Sue's Book Reviews
