30 Jun 2022

Where the magic is (by Giselle Green)

Where the magic is by Giselle Green
(Amazon UK link)
I have read and enjoyed all Giselle Green’s books so far, so was delighted when she offered to send me a pre-publication copy of her latest novel ‘Where the Magic Is’. I have just finished reading it on my Kindle, and on the whole liked it very much.

There are three main characters in this novel: Sofia, Cal and Sofia’s 13-year-old daughter Ida. The story is told in alternating viewpoints, as is typical for this author, although until the epilogue we only read Sofia and Cal’s viewpoints. The two are very different in culture, financial situation and outlook on life; but I felt that I got to know them - and several of the minor characters - fairly well. Giselle Green has a gift for creating three-dimensional people, most of them very likeable.

Despite her not having a viewpoint voice until the end, I became fondest of Ida. She is bright, sometimes outspoken, and has some quite mature ideas and opinions that are perhaps typical of only children. Ida’s father is not in the picture; he is barely mentioned. But Sofia has brought her up alongside her close extended family in Rio de Janeiro. They are not well-off, but Ida has had a happy childhood, and their financial situations are about to change dramatically. For Sofia is soon to be married to the wealthy Cristian.

It’s clear from the beginning that Sofia is having a few doubts. But large amounts of money have been spent on the wedding already, and her family are benefitting in various ways from her future in-laws. She feels the pull of duty and tries to avoid the treacherous concerns that creep into her mind and heart.

The person who matters most to Sofia is Ida, and Ida has a serious problem with her eyesight. I’m not sure we ever learn exactly what it is, but it’s likely she will become blind at some point. Cristian has paid for her to see a top specialist in Rio and the news is not good. So when Sofia hears about a possible experimental treatment available in London, she is determined to take her daughter there, even if it means postponing her wedding…

I liked Sofia’s family on the whole - not that we get to know any of them very well - although her sister seemed a bit pushy. I didn’t much like Cristian’s family, however. And the one character I couldn’t entirely believe in was Cristian himself, who seems to change personality depending on who he is with, and is entirely under the thumb of his dominant sister. I couldn’t really see why Sofia was in love with him - but she is convinced that she is, even while wondering what it will be like spending the rest of her life as part of his family.

The other viewpoint character is Cal, a Scotsman who lives in England. He offers to help out an old friend who is ill. Cal’s regular job is that of a male escort, with quite a demanding boss called Melissa. He’s very good at his job, and he discovers that he’s also rather good at being a tour guide in place of his friend. He’s clearly a kind person, one who is able to make women feel cared for and special even though he’s acting most of the time.

Sofia and Ida fly to the UK for a visit to the clinic and to Scotland for a short holiday, to enable Ida to see some scenery from her favourite film while she still can see. It’s no surprise, given how the novel unfolds, that Cal ends up being their guide. He knows a lot about the history and legends of the places they visit, and he’s not above weaving a few extra stories too. He and Ida hit it off instantly, and Sofia finds him attractive although she tries to resist it.

The writing is good, as I expect with Giselle Green. The conversations are realistic, and her lyrical descriptions of expeditions to different locations in Scotland work very well in moving the story along. I could feel Sofia’s stress as she tries to ignore her growing affection and attraction for Cal, while fielding messages from Rio from her concerned family. She’s also very worried about Ida: not wanting to raise her hopes too much, but also not wanting to miss out on even the slightest chance of a cure, or at least remission of her condition.

Giselle Green’s novels often take unexpected turns in the storyline, so I really didn’t know, for the first half, where it was going to lead. I hoped that Ida’s treatment was going to yield positive results, but wasn’t at all sure whether Cal and Sofia would end up together, despite that being a somewhat predictable storyline for women’s fiction. Indeed, I suspected one particular twist which seemed quite possible early in the book, but I was entirely wrong about that.

Overall I thought it was an enjoyable read, with an interesting contrast of cultures, some thought-provoking issues related to the importance of family ties and expectations, and intriguing glimpses into a profession I knew almost nothing about. The subplot involving Ida’s eye condition made an excellent addition to the more traditional storylines, as well as being a catalyst for Sofia to re-think her priorities. At times I could barely put it down.

Definitely recommended if you enjoy character-based women’s fiction.

Review copyright 2022 Sue's Book Reviews

28 Jun 2022

The Universal Christ (by Richard Rohr)

The Universal Christ by Richard Rohr
(Amazon UK link)
I have liked and appreciated the books by Richard Rohr since I first discovered his writing eighteen years ago. I have gradually acquired more of his work, and have found each book challenging, thought-provoking, and well written, if a tad heavy at times. I saw ‘The Universal Christ’ recommended in more than one place last year, so I put it on my wishlist and was given it for my birthday a couple of months back.

Richard Rohr is a Roman Catholic priest who has studied some psychology, and has counselled many individuals over the decades since he was ordained. He’s not a traditionalist, or a hard-line Catholic. He acknowledges that there are many ways to find God, that each denomination or confession may have some of the truth, but probably not all of it. He is a deep thinker, full of both common sense and insight.

Once or twice I have had moments of wondering whether Rohr’s theology and reasoning are entirely sound, but it doesn’t stop me reading. I like to keep a fairly open mind. My own beliefs have moved on from the rather single-minded evangelicalism of my twenties - and even then I was never a fundamentalist. I value mercy more than judgement, and am pretty sure there will be many more people in heaven than most of us expect. I found the book ‘The Divine Dance’ very thought-provoking when I read it four years ago, and in a sense ‘The Universal Christ’ follows on from it.

The basic premise is that Christ - and Rohr reminds us at the start that this is not Jesus’ surname, but a description of the Messiah, someone much bigger than the thirty-three years of Jesus’ life on earth. Rohr links Christ with the ‘Logos’, the ‘Word’ of God which was present from the beginning, according to John’s gospel, and which was involved in - and part of - the initial creation of the heavens and the earth.

And thus, Rohr explains, since Christ was an active participant in the creation from nothing, he is still part of it - still present: not just in other people, but in animals, plants, even the sea and the air. And yes, in a sense that’s obvious; we know that God is everywhere, that he’s involved in everything. But it’s easy to forget that our awe at a waterfall or a glorious sunset is not just seeing God’s handiwork, but, in a sense, seeing God himself.

The perspective of this book is, I found, quite refreshing and ultimately very encouraging. The focus is on love, and mercy; on God’s presence in us and with us. At first it felt almost as if Rohr were down-playing Jesus and his sacrifice for us - but he doesn’t at all. However he does point out that some who thank Jesus for what he did seem to ignore his life, example and teaching - which form the bulk of what we know about him.

I had not previously come across the idea of the ‘Great Comma’, although it had occurred to me more than once while saying the Apostles’ Creed that there was a significant gap - 33 years - between, ‘born of the Virgin Mary’ and ‘Suffered under Pontius Pilate’. So I found that concept, which is the main heading for the second part of the book, particularly interesting. A great deal of what Rohr said resonated quite strongly with me.

His writing is good, persuasive and yet not at all coercive. He doesn’t mind people seeing things differently, but invites his readers to re-think some Scripture verses in the light of what he has said, to be open enough to see that we may have become entrenched in unhelpful viewpoints, many of them not in fact Scriptural; not even commonly held views from the Early Church days.

While the focus is on Christ being in and part of everyone, Rohr isn’t a Universalist in the generally understood term; he accepts that there are people who have cut themselves off from God’s love. But he doesn’t condemn or criticise, instead inviting people to begin to experience Christ for themselves.

For believers, those interested in faith, perhaps even those who have been put off by fundamentalists. It’s quite heavy-going in places; it took me over three weeks to finish this, reading just a few pages each morning and having plenty to think about. But I’m very glad I read it.

Review copyright 2022 Sue's Book Reviews

24 Jun 2022

A Place like Home (by Rosamunde Pilcher)

A Place Like Home and other stories by Rosamunde Pilcher
(Amazon UK link)
I discovered Rosamunde Pilcher in my twenties, and gradually acquired all her books, which I have re-read several times over the decades. Sadly she died in 2019, but she was 94 and had not published a new book since ‘Winter Solstice’ in 2000.

So I was startled to see ‘A place like home’, a new collection of her short stories, available on Amazon towards the end of last year. I put it on my wishlist, having established that this was not simply a re-naming of one of her previously published collections, and was delighted to receive it for my birthday a couple of months ago.

I’ve just finished reading it - and appreciated the introduction explaining that these short stories were discovered in the British library, and have not previously been published in any kind of collection, though one or two were printed in magazines. There are fifteen short stories in this book, all of them typical Pilcher stories with three-dimensional characters, mostly positive family relationships, and satisfying conclusions - even if there are one or two somewhat unlikely coincidences here and there.

I have to admit that when I had read the first three or four, I began to see why these stories were not selected for the other collections. ‘The Blue Bedroom’ and ‘Flowers in the Rain’ are wonderful books, with short stories that are emotive, moving, beautifully written and full of the most delightful people. Not that these are disappointing; the characters are nicely drawn and likeable, and the stories pleasant to read. But they’re not as stunning or heart-wrenching as the ones in the earlier collections.

However, I still enjoyed these stories very much. The author had the most incredible gift of characterisation, which came to the fore in her novels, but which comes out too in short stories, even those of just a few pages. I felt empathy for all the viewpoint women in these stories, even though they’re quite different in their attitudes and lifestyles.

The first story, for instance, ‘Someone to Trust’, is about a young woman called Rachael. She has just broken up with a young man whom she’s been close to for a while, and needs the comfort and companionship of her cousin in the countryside. Rachael is able to give notice on her job and find someone to live in her flat without any difficulty and travels to stay with Sally.  She meets a young man, and it’s fairly obvious that they’re going to become an item, but it’s not at all clear how it’s going to happen. It takes a huge coincidence - perhaps the most unlikely one in the book - before she is able to move on from her previous relationship.

But it’s so nicely done, with such likeable people, such ordinary - and yet beautifully written - descriptions that I just accepted the coincidence and enjoyed the story. The second story is less typical; there’s an anniversary dinner, a man who isn’t sure that he wants any commitment, an unexpected reunion… and then a slightly odd ending culminating in a lie; I wasn’t quite sure where it was leading, although I think the future was hopeful for all concerned.

Other stories are similar, with slightly different plots. Some were set in the United States with American vocabulary here and there, presumably written for - and perhaps published by - American magazines. The ones I liked best were towards the end; the final story is one of the shortest, but nicely rounded and entirely satisfactory. This is possibly because a small child is involved, and Rosamunde Pilcher was excellent at relationships with children; they don’t usually have huge parts to play, but they are warm, and some of the situations are extremely moving.

I only read one or two of the stories at a time, as it became hard to keep track of who was whom. I don’t often read short story collections for this reason; I prefer the depth and perspective of novels, on the whole. But I did enjoy these stories, and am very pleased to have this new collection. I would definitely recommend it to anyone who loves Pilcher’s writing, or fans of magazine-style short stories in general.

Review copyright 2022 Sue's Book Reviews

20 Jun 2022

Gay from China at the Chalet School (by Elinor M Brent-Dyer)

Gay from China at the Chalet School by Brent-Dyer
(Amazon UK link)
I have loved Elinor M Brent-Dyer’s ‘Chalet School’ series since I first discovered some of her books on my grandmother’s shelves as a teenager. I borrowed later ones from my school library, and began collecting my own copies, mostly abridged Armada editions, and re-read them regularly. My mother, meanwhile, started her own collection, including the hardbacks from her childhood; when I visited, I would dip into some of my favourites.

When she decided that she was not going to read them again, she passed them on to me, and I was pretty sure I re-read most of them again about ten years ago. Apparently not. In my current slow read-through, which I began with ‘The School at the Chalet’ towards the end of 2019, I found that there were some books I had not read in considerably longer. One of these is ‘Gay from China at the Chalet School’ which I hadn’t read since 2003.

I have the hardback edition of this, and it’s the one that used to belong to my mother; apparently the Armada abridged version (re-titled ‘Gay Lambert at the Chalet School’) is missing some quite significant parts, although I don’t think I ever read that. I did recall the general outline - when I read it in 2003 it was the third time in three years! - although I’d forgotten many of the details.

Jacynth is a new girl, a little nervous about going to the Chalet School, but she settles in quickly and makes friends with two likeable girls called Gay and Gillian. Jacynth’s fees are being paid by her aunt, who brought her up; they are clearly devoted to each other, and have no other living relatives. Jacynth’s aunt has to have a serious operation, so she’s naturally concerned about her.

Meanwhile the school Head, the deputy, and two other senior mistresses have been involved in a nasty coach accident. This happens right before the start of the summer term, so a temporary headmistress has to be employed to run the school - and the rather limited options lead to the dreadful Miss Bubb. She’s not evil, but she’s very ambitious academically and rather scathing about sports, music, arts and hobbies. She doesn’t understand the Chalet School ethos, and she starts making her own strict rules, which makes everyone increasingly upset with her.

Just to make matters even worse, Madge Russell, who owns the school, can’t be told about this because her small daughter Josette has had a very nasty accident with a kettle of boiling water, and her life hangs in the balance for some days.

So there’s a lot going on in this book and I thought it very well put together. Brent-Dyer was fairly good at characterisation, at least of a few of her creations, and I felt we got to know both Gay and Jacynth rather well in this book. Their backgrounds are entirely different: Gay comes from a well-off family with many relatives, some of whom are still living in China, where she grew up. But they share a love of music.

I liked the way that integrity and flexibility are balanced so well in the Chalet School staff and general understanding, contrasted cleverly with Miss Bubb’s extreme inflexibility, and lack of trust in anyone. Her eventual - and inevitable - departure are nicely handled, I felt.

‘Gay from China’, which is the 18th book in the original series, was first published in 1944 so World War I is the background to the events. Medical care is also that of nearly 80 years ago; perhaps it’s surprising that it’s as good as it is. The author is rather vague about operations, but she doesn’t skate round tragedies and near tragedies. Several people in this book are in extreme danger, their lives in the balance for some days; one person loses the battle towards the end of the book, and I found the chapter describing it, as well as a moving letter to be very poignant and had tears in my eyes as I read.

There’s much more to the book of course; I love the insights into the customs and expectations of the era, as well as developments in the life of the school and its characters. There’s some light humour revolving around a new family who have come to work in the local post office, and it nicely balances the serious themes that dominate the book.

It stands alone, and as it’s mostly about new characters, it’s not necessary to have read any of the earlier books, although I always like seeing former characters in cameo roles. Originally intended, of course, for teenagers but nowadays probably read more by adults who recall them with nostalgia from their own childhood or teenage years.

Definitely recommended if you like the Chalet School series, especially if you can find either a hardback earlier edition, or a more recently published 'Girls Gone By' version with the full text. Unfortunately these are often extremely high priced, but can occasionally be found in second-hand shops, particularly 'marketplaces' online.

Review copyright 2022 Sue's Book Reviews

17 Jun 2022

Night Watch (by Terry Pratchett)

Night Watch by Terry Pratchett
(Amazon UK link)
It’s been an interesting experience re-reading Terry Pratchett’s lengthy ‘Discworld’ series, many of which I only read once before; in some cases nearly twenty years ago. That’s the case with ‘Night Watch’, 29th in the Discworld series, which I first read - aloud to my teenage sons - in 2003. I didn’t remember liking it particularly; I wasn’t much of a fan of the ‘Watch’ books, and almost missed it out this time.

However I’m glad I decided to reread it for the sake of continuity, although it’s taken me over a week to complete. This book features Sam Vimes, both as Sir Samuel, Commander of the Watch (soon to be a father), and as the young recruit Lance Constable Sam Vimes, a couple of decades earlier.

At the start of the book there have been some nasty killings by a really unpleasant character called Carcer. Vimes is determined to catch him, and almost does so in the University library… except that it’s an area of high magic, where time and space don’t necessarily function in their normal way. And due to some complexities which only the history monks understand, both Vimes and Carcer find themselves in the past, a few days before a terrible scene of violence in the city which Vimes and some of his friends had been recalling, wearing lilac blooms in their helmets.

It’s a bit of a complex plot, one that doesn’t really follow other time-shift or time-travel books: in the Discworld understanding, there are millions of universes, where anything that might happen does happen in at least one of them. There’s no problem with Vimes meeting his younger self, although he calls himself John Keel; I didn’t quite get why he does this, but he remembers that John Keel taught him all he knew. And in this particular past, John Keel is dead, by the hand of Carcer.

So events have changed, and if young Sam is to turn into a man of integrity he needs a mentor… and the only person who can do that is the older Vimes, known as Keel.

One has to accept all kinds of unexpected, bizarre circumstances in the Discworld books, so time travel isn’t particularly difficult to take in. Sam Vimes, knowing what’s coming, and absolutely on the side of the rebels of Ankh Morpork, brings some of his natural tact and diplomacy to the fore, possibly changing what happened, but knowing that eventually he will be able to return.

I found it an engaging story. Sam Vimes, at both ages, is a likeable person; angry at times, potentially dangerous, but essentially honest, kind and fair. He does the job in front of him, finding some nostalgic pleasure in being a Sergeant again, treading the streets in boots lined only in cardboard. He meets some dubious characters, and befriends an excellent, if unconventional doctor.

There are some brief mentions of the history monks, who were introduced in the previous book ‘Thief of Time’, but it’s not necessary to have read it first. It would probably help to have read the earlier ‘Watch’ books, however:, in particular ‘Guards, Guards!’, ‘Men at Arms’, and ‘The Fifth Elephant’.

Well worth reading as part of the Discworld series, or just as part of the ‘Watch’ series.

Review copyright 2022 Sue's Book Reviews

8 Jun 2022

The Garden House (by Marcia Willett)

The Garden House by Marcia Willett
(Amazon UK link)
Having re-read many of my Marcia Willett books over the past few years, I finally picked up the one I was given last Christmas, ‘The Garden House’, which I had not previously read. I was pleased to see that, as so often happens with this author, some characters from previous books appear as well as the new ones who are the primary focus.

Eleanor - El - is the main character, or at least the one I most related to in this warm, character-driven novel. She’s in her twenties, I suppose, and is slowly coming to terms with the sudden, unexpected death of her father Martin. She has decided to move into his small, quirky home, a converted farm building, and to apply for part-time work in a bookshop.

El realises she has to deal with her father’s clothes and can’t quite bring herself to do so. Her step-brother Will has offered sympathy and assistance. Although they haven’t really had much in common, he lost his mother more than a decade earlier, so he can empathise fully. El thinks he’s probably gay, which makes it easier for her to relate to him - but it quickly becomes clear that the two are beginning to experience a mutual attraction. However the timing is pretty bad…

Meanwhile El discovers her father’s mobile phone and some strange text messages in an apparent code. The reader knows that he had a secret affair for a few years but El has no idea. She and Will decide to try and crack the code, to figure out what was going on.

While the main story involves them, and to a lesser extent Martin’s former lady friend, there are other scenes involving Kate and Cass, the two close friends who featured in many of Marcia Willett’s novels, starting with her earliest one, ‘Those who Serve’. They’re much older now, somewhat bemused at the passing of time - which feels very familiar to me - and beginning to feel their age. Cass and her husband Tom are discussing whether to downsize, and Kate is staying with them. El’s lawyer Angus is a friend of theirs, and his daughter Plum has secrets of her own which she’s worried about…

As ever, Willett writes without any bad language, and with nothing explicit. There are usually people of faith, in a low-key way, or who are exploring spirituality in her books. In this one, church and Christmas services are natural places to go, and the minister is a respected friend. It’s part of who these people are, not at all preachy, and could be glossed over by people without any interest in issues of faith.

The plot is fairly minimal, which is fine - I like character-based stories, and Marcia Willett has quite a gift of characterisation. For El and Will it’s an intriguing search, but the reader already knows what they’re going to find - the only question is how long it will take, and whether the two will get together. It’s not a book for people who like fast-paced stories with a lot of action. With so many characters from previous novels, it probably wouldn’t be a good one to start with if you haven’t read any other of this author’s books. However, it stands alone and it’s not necessary to have read earlier ones.

For me, after collecting this author’s novels over a couple of decades, reading ‘The Garden House’ was  like meeting old friends again and catching up a little in their lives. I finished the book in just a couple of days; not that there was anything gripping in it, but it was still hard to put down. It’s an easy, relaxing read and I liked it very much. Recommended if you like gentle women’s fiction, particularly if you have read and liked other books by this author.

Review copyright 2022 Sue's Book Reviews

4 Jun 2022

Hamnet (by Maggie O'Farrell)

Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell
(Amazon UK link)
I had never read anything by Maggie O’Farrell, but her novel ‘Hamnet’ was allocated for this month’s reading group. I would have downloaded it on my Kindle, but I was very pleased to spot a paperback edition at a church book sale a couple of months ago. The blurb on the back makes it clear that the novel is about William Shakespeare and his family. This is explained, too, in a brief note at the front of the book. It’s also mentioned in the blurb that 11-year-old Hamnet is not going to survive.

So I wasn’t really sure what to expect, since the plot of the story appeared to have been given without my even opening the book. It’s not a short novel - over 350 pages - but we meet Hamnet in chapter one, hurrying around his home and neighbourhood. He is desperate to find an adult, because his twin sister Judith is sick. She has the bubonic plague which is ravaging European cities in this period. Although it’s not yet rampant in Stratford, where they live, we learn much later in the book how it reached them.

However the plot follows two different time periods so it’s not just a long drawn-out week while Hamnet becomes sick. As well as this story, there’s a backstory, beginning when his mother Agnes and his father have not yet met. His father - who is not in fact named through the whole novel - lives with his parents and siblings, often abused verbally and physically by his father John because he’s a bit of a dreamer. John makes gloves but his son is an academic, and mainly works as a tutor.

Agnes lives not far away, a somewhat eccentric, mystical young woman who has uncanny intuition and some healing powers. Her brothers are being tutored, she and her future husband meet…and as neither of their families wants them to get married, they take matters into their own hands and force the situation.

So this story runs alongside the week before Hamnet dies, going rather faster, following Agnes through her two pregnancies. In this part of the novel we also see how her husband becomes increasingly frustrated with his life, and eventually goes to work in London, returning home whenever he can, but this is not very often.

It’s good historical fiction, using the small amount of information known about Shakespeare and his family, weaving the plot around it in an entirely convincing way. It’s also extremely well-written. The pace is good, the tension builds in both parts of the plot, which are woven together cleverly, each one pausing to give place to the other at significant points. I’m not generally a huge fan of this kind of gritty, realistic historical fiction. But I found it gripping, and read long sections at each sitting, finding it difficult to put down.

I knew, of course, that Hamnet was not going to survive although it wasn’t clear whether his twin sister would. She’s quite frail, we learn, and it takes him too long to find his mother. Not that her healing potions are necessarily any good at all against the bubonic plague…

When it eventually happens, the writing is poignant and moving, beautifully written without gratuitous or graphic detail. Agnes’s grief and pain are all too believable. The book continues afterwards, moving onwards and eventually demonstrating how Hamnet’s father manages to deal with his terrible loss, creating one of his best-known plays. It’s not known whether he did this in memory of his son, but it seems likely given the name of the play, which is so close to his son’s name (and apparently a variant spelling of it).

As social history the book is good, too, the settings believable without feeling researched. We see poverty, and cramped living conditions, as well as sicknesses that cannot be healed in that era. Yet it’s sensitively shown, with people who are for the most part positive and supportive of each other.

I had not expected to like it, but have no hesitation in recommending ‘Hamnet’ highly to anyone interested in a possible interpretation of events in Shakespeare’s family life, or indeed anyone who likes history fiction set in the first Elizabethan era.

Review copyright 2022 Sue's Book Reviews