31 Mar 2023

All Summer Through (by Malcolm Saville)

All Summer Through by Malcolm Saville
After finishing my latest re-read of Malcolm Saville’s ‘Lone Pine’ series, I decided to revisit some of his other books in my collection. I have a fairly eclectic mixture and no other complete series, but I recalled liking the ‘Nettleford’ series when I was a child. I have three out of four of those, So I’ve just read the first in the series, ‘All Summer Through’.


I’d entirely forgotten what the book was about, and had no memory of the people in it. But they’re introduced i the first chapter, and - as is typical of Malcolm Saville - individual characters emerge quickly, as they interact with each other. Conversations are believable, and the first impression is of a normal, reasonably contented family. The father works in his own bookshop, the ‘Wise Owl’, and the family live upstairs. His wife helps sometimes, but typical of the era (the book was first published in 1951) looks after the house, the washing, the cooking, and the children.


Sally is the oldest child, and at just thirteen she’s beginning to develop a sense of responsibility. She’s a nice girl, and although she squabbles sometimes with her brother Paul (who is eleven) they’re fond of each other deep down. Their younger sister Veronica is six, and rather a spoiled princess; everyone around thinks she’s cute, and tells her so… and she plays up to them. 


They get the news that their cousin Tony (who is 12) is coming to stay and they’re horrified as he looks down on them. His father is much wealthier, and he goes to a private school and lives in a bigger house. But he’s an only child and doesn’t see much of his parents although they buy him everything he wants.  He doesn’t get off to a good start with them, convinced he’ll be bored out in the countryside, but Sally’s friend Liza befriends him, and slowly he becomes more human and by the end of the holiday learns to fit in better.


Sally, Paul, Liza and Paul’s friend Jimmy form a club at the start of the book - the ‘Owlers’ - with a secret code and plans to do various things, but this club doesn’t have anything like the importance of the Lone Pine club in the better-known series. They do things together, and there are some excitements through the holidays, but they’re the kind of children who would have done these things already. At first the idea of the club is to do something where Tony isn’t involved, but as he becomes acceptable - and accepted - it seems less relevant.


It’s intended for a younger audience than the Lone Pine series; with the oldest child only 13 and the youngest six it was probably intended for the 9-12 age group, although apparently I acquired the book just after I was 13.  I think it could work quite well with children who like fairly mild adventure stories with no hint of fantasy, and some realistic characters. It would probably make a good read-aloud. There are some poignant moments - an adult friend who becomes ill, and an emergency with their mother. There’s a tense moment , too, when Veronica wanders off on her own and falls asleep, only to open her eyes and see a stranger… but although well-written, there’s nothing too scary.


Some might be shocked at the relish with which Paul collects worms and catches fish, or, more significantly, the way the children find it amusing when rabbits and rats become increasingly disturbed at harvest time, and then get shot. Only Veronica finds this upsetting, and her sensitivity is treated as rather sweet, but she’s only a little girl. However it’s probably realistic both for the time, and for children raised in the countryside, friendly with farmers.


It’s not the most exciting book, or one I’d necessarily want to read again, but it passed a few hours in undemanding reading, with characters who, even in this relatively short book, got under my skin. I’m looking forward to re-reading the two sequels that I have from my teenage years. 


Long out of print, this is sometimes found inexpensively in charity shops, but used editions tend to be highly priced online.


Review copyright 2023 Sue's Book Reviews

27 Mar 2023

The Disappearance of Emily Marr (by Louise Candlish)

The Disappearance of Emily Marr by Louise Candlish
(Amazon UK link)
I’m glad I decided to re-read the novels I’ve acquired by Louise Candlish. She’s an excellent writer, with good characterisation and plots that can be quite tense in places. I’ve found some of her more recent books a tad too stressful, but her earlier ones were less so. The one I’ve just finished rereading is ‘The Disappearance of Emily Marr’, which I last read in 2015


I’d have thought, since it was only eight years ago, I might have remembered something about the story, but I didn’t. I had completely forgotten the two main characters, too.  Tabby and Emily are two young women whose stories run alongside each other. The difference is that Tabby’s is told in the third person, while Emily’s, as we learn fairly quickly, is her attempt to write out her story so she doesn’t forget any details. 


They meet when Tabby, after a broken relationship in France, down to her last few euros, is able to get access to a small house, tucked away in a side street of the island of Ré. She hopes the resident might have gone away, but is discovered by someone calling herself Emmie. She clearly has secrets and spends a lot of time on her laptop. She’s quite reclusive, and worried about being discovered. Tabby is sociable and friendly, and wants to talk about her broken heart, but Emmie is much more private.


Much of the story takes place on Ré, where Tabby is invited to stay if she pays some rent. Emmy is working as a cleaner for holiday homes, and gets Tabby a job too - and they mostly get along amicably.  Tabby tries to ask questions and persuade Emmie to go out, but each time realises she needs to back off or risk alienating her new friend. 


As Emily’s story unfolds, it becomes more tense… at times I wanted to keep reading it, rather than going back to Tabby’s story of what’s happening in Ré. But the alternating viewpoints work well, and I found myself liking both of the women despite them both having some moral failings which are explored in some depth (though, thankfully, not in any detail). At first I sympathised more with Emmie, irritated by Tabby’s attempts to probe. But gradually Emmie becomes more irrational… 


I’m surprised that I had not remembered what happened after that, although there’s a hint on the back that something unexpected takes place. I was startled when the truth is revealed - just as startled as I must have been the first time I read it. 


The book is very well-written, with some action and some more insightful passages.  Some important modern issues are covered, from the power of social media through to the tragedy of dementia, and other mental illnesses. Adulterous relationships are not condemned, but possible - and believable - consequences are shown alongside the thoughtlessness, in some cases, of people involved in them. 


My only disappointment in this book was that the ending is abrupt leaving open threads. But in Googling to find out if anyone had come up with anything, I discovered that the author has now written an epilogue. She wanted people to buy the updated version of the book that includes it; I wasn’t going to do that, but discovered the Kindle edition available for just 99p on Amazon UK. So I downloaded it, and went straight to the end. I didn’t particularly like the ending, but it does at least give closure, and some encouragement for the future. 


Definitely recommended if you like thought-provoking women’s fiction with a bit of a punch.



Review copyright 2023 Sue's Book Reviews

22 Mar 2023

The Corinthian (by Georgette Heyer)

The Corinthian by Georgette Heyer
(Amazon UK link)
I love re-reading Georgette Heyer’s novels. Even though I’ve read them - the historical romance ones, anyway - at least four or five times each, I’ve always forgotten most of the details by the time I re-read six or seven years later. That was the case with ‘The Cornithian’, which I’ve just finished reading for what is, I think, the sixth time. The last time I read it was in July 2016.


I was a bit surprised, at first, how little I recalled in the first few chapters. We meet Sir Richard Wyndham, his sister Louisa and her husband and mother. Sir Richard is a Corinthian - fastidious in dress, an excellent horseman, and quite athletic. He’s also rather bored, as his life is mostly quite predictable. His family want him to get married to produce an heir, and he sees the justice of their comments. 


So he decides he had better marry a young woman he knows, who (his family tell him) considers that they are almost betrothed. He doesn’t dislike her, but finds her rather cold and distant. And when they meet, she says theirs will be a marriage of convenience, made primarily because he is very wealthy, and her family are deeply in debt.


Rather depressed, Sir Richard goes to his club, gambles and drinks, and then starts to walk home in the early hours of the morning. And something startling happens, jolting him out of his inward thinking, and nudging him into an adventure of the kind he never dreamed of. He becomes physically uncomfortable, talks to people of the kind he had never before communicated with, and learns to laugh… 


As I read, I did have odd moments where I recalled a scene, or knew what was coming. But they were surprisingly rare. I enjoyed the story thoroughly - much of it is unlikely, but Heyer’s characters are so good and her situations so believable that I had no problem suspending reality and going along with the story. It’s a good contrast between a young man who has always observed all the conventions and a young woman who cares nothing for convention or tradition, and does exactly what she thinks best… until events overtake her and she believes she’s unworthy of someone else’s devotion.


There’s an unpleasant scene which isn’t described in too much detail, thankfully. There’s a nice mixture of the upper and middle classes with the working (and, in some cases, thieving) classes. Heyer’s research is impeccable as always, and even her minor characters shine, albeit in a somewhat caricatured way. There’s gentle humour - not laugh-aloud humour, but enough to make me smile, or appreciate the turn of phrase, and there’s a good story with a lot of different subplots.


First published in 1940, this novel has been in print almost continually for over eighty years. Definitely recommended, if you like this genre of historical romance.



Review copyright 2023 Sue's Book Reviews

20 Mar 2023

Can't Wait to Get to Heaven (by Fannie Flagg)

Can't Wait to Get to Heaven by Fannie Flagg
(Amazon UK link)
Every so often I browse a church bookstall, or shelves in a charity shop, and pick up books that look interesting based on the cover and blurb on the back. I know one isn’t supposed to judge a book by the cover, but it’s a good starting point when trying something new. I had read one book by the author, Fannie Flagg, when I spotted this two and a half years ago, and knew that another of her books was scheduled for the local reading group, a month or two later.


‘Can’t wait to get to heaven’ has sat on my to-be-read shelf  for long enough, so I finally decided to read it. It’s a quirky kind of book - as is the case for the author’s other books that I read - based in small town America, in a community where everyone knows everyone else.  


The main character is an elderly lady who’s a bit deaf but very independent and quite sprightly. She’s up a ladder at the start of the book, picking figs from her tree, when she uncovers a wasps’ nest.  She is aware of them buzzing around and stinging her, then she knows nothing more until she wakes up in darkness, in a hospital. 


The action then switches to her niece Norma, a likeable but very nervous woman who is fond of her aunt. She worries about her all the time and would like her to move to sheltered accommodation. But she respects her aunt’s wishes - and is unaware just how many things Elner does, which Norma would not approve of.  Norma is married to Macky, who is also a likeable person,  although their relationship is not very close. Norma gets a phone call and rushes to Elner’s house…


And then we meet some of Elner’s neighbours who went to her aid, and called an ambulance. It’s clear from the start that Elner is generous, kind, and very outgoing. She’s popular with just about everyone and they’re all very concerned for her when she’s found unconscious on the ground. 


As for Elner…her experience becomes a bit surreal as she embarks on what the blurb on the back calls ‘an adventure she never dreamed of’. It’s well done, thought-provoking and quite moving, as is her friends’ and relatives’ reactions to her condition.  


Half way through the book there’s a new development I wasn’t expecting at all, leading to a lot of very confused people, and some concerning attitudes amongst some of the hospital staff and (even more so) those involved in insurance claims. I don’t know how true to life these folk are, but the descriptions are shocking.


Indeed, I didn’t like the second half of the book as much as I did the first. It dragged a bit, and there’s another revelation later in the book, connected to something that one of the neighbours found at the bottom of Elner’s laundry basket. While the event in question certainly answers a puzzling question for the reader, the reason for what happened is extremely disturbing, and the anecdote - if one can call it that - felt unnecessary in what’s mostly quite a gentle book, that shows the positive side of such a close community.


I’m  surprised that the blurb on the back mentions ‘side-splitting hilarity’, as I didn’t find anything like that in the novel. There were a few places where I smiled, but nothing that raised even a chuckle from me, and I thought most of the story poignant rather than amusing; it’s a long way from hilarity.


It’s not a novel for those who like fast action or clever plotting; it’s a character-based story, although I didn’t find any of the characters particularly memorable other than Elner. But I kept reading, and am glad I did. I don’t suppose I’ll read it again, but it’s worth reading once. Recommended if you like this kind of women’s fiction - it reminds me of Anne Tyler’s novels more than anything else.



Review copyright 2023 Sue's Book Reviews

18 Mar 2023

Traveling Mercies (by Anne Lamott)

Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott
(Amazon UK link)
I don’t recall where I first heard of Anne Lamott, but I had a few of her books on my wishlist. I was given ‘Traveling [sic] Mercies’ nearly a year ago, but have only just got to reading it over the past couple of weeks. 


The subtitle of this book is ‘Some thoughts on faith’, and essentially that’s what this book is.  Much of it is told in autobiographical style, which I found very interesting. It shows the author’s background, with a wide variety of religious (and non-religious) input from family members and friends. 


Lamott begins her story when she’s around five, a free-range child in a small town in Southern California, where she hung out with other children of all ages. Her best friend was Roman Catholic, so she sometimes went to church with her friend, and even at such a young age loved the mystery, the liturgy, the formality of it all. 


Her own family, by contrast, were not religious in any way. They believed in doing good, in helping other people, but not in God. Her mother went once a year to a Christmas service, her father not at all.  So it’s not surprising that young Anne was confused. She was eager to please everyone, longing to fit in. She knew she wasn’t pretty, or conventional, but she could do things people wanted in the hope that they might like her. 


It’s not an autobiography as such; more scenes from the author’s life as they related to her leaps and discoveries about faith. Some of it is revealing, poignant, and stark. As a teenager she experimented with drugs, slept with a lot of different men, and drank far too much. She didn’t look after herself at all; later chapters talk about her developing an eating disorder after trying - and failing - to diet, experimenting with every possible way of eating she could find. 


Fundamentalists would find a lot to argue with. Lamott is not a conventional Christian at all, and while her faith is clearly strong it’s hard to know how she sees God, and what principles she still holds to. She clearly likes to help others - to love her neighbour, to forgive and care for even the most unpleasant people - and she adores her young son Sam, a quirky little boy who, by the time he’s eight, has learned to be quite scathing (even rude) at times. 


On the other hand, it takes her a long time to accept that she is loved and lovable, to care less about her image and more about being who God made her to be. And she continues sleeping with the many different boyfriends she acquires, never finding anyone she wants to spend the rest of her life with. She seems to fall in and out of love with disturbing rapidity. 


Although the topic of faith is certainly covered, here and there, the book felt more like an expose of the author and her life. It’s very honest, quite self-revealing in a way that’s almost uncomfortable at times. Yet I  found it a very readable book. The writing style is unique, if sometimes a bit wordy. The descriptions are excellent, with some unusual metaphors and word pictures that conjured up scenes or voices in my mind. 


There are a few too many expletives for my tastes, but they’re evidently part of the author’s natural conversation. I like the way that much of the book comes across as her talking about personal anecdotes and ideas, as if to a friend. So while I don’t like some of the language, it’s apparently how Anne Lamott speaks - and therefore more acceptable. 


Not everyone will appreciate this book. The forays into faith and leaps in understanding how God works are described well, and unlikely to offend atheists and agnostics. But those of fundamentalist leanings, or strict evangelicals might object to the relaxed, liberal theology that comes across. 


But with those provisos, I would recommend this as a description of one person’s wanderings through unusual pathways, experimenting with several bad ideas, but still ending up believing in God. 



Review copyright 2023 Sue's Book Reviews

14 Mar 2023

Starburst (by Robin Pilcher)

Starburst by Robin Pilcher
(Amazon UK link)
In re-reading my novels by Robin Pilcher, I reached ‘Starburst’. I last read it in 2008 and, as generally happens if I don’t read a book for a decade or more, I had forgotten both the people and the story. 


There are a lot of different people in this book. For the first few chapters I found myself feeling rather confused New characters are introduced with each new chapter, unrelated other than some connection with the upcoming Edinburgh Festival.


So we meet, for instance: a comedienne from Hartlepool whose friends have clubbed together to get her a slot in the Edinburgh Fringe; an elderly man persuaded to direct the filming of a Japanese dance troupe due to be at the Festival; the man in charge of the firework display; a young, brilliant violinist from France, who is going to perform at several events. 


We also meet some of the organisers of the festival, and learn one or two secrets that they want to keep. My general feeling was of wondering when the story was going to start, and how all these people would work into a coherent story, along with others who are mentioned. Each of the people has a bit of back-story, and, in some cases, spouses or children. And they’re all converging on Edinburgh…


Perhaps the confusion was intentional, giving a flavour of what it must be like for the organisers each year, trying to coordinate acts, venues, accommodation, sponsorship and so much more. I’ve never been to the Edinburgh Festival - or Fringe - myself, but I know some who have been there, and have found it busy, hectic, and generally very enjoyable - if exhausting. 


Gradually the story becomes more focussed; Rene, the comedienne, is worried that her venue is not a great one, and her audience small. The violinist, Angelique, is becoming stressed with the pressure from her mentor, who is quite controlling. Leonard, the elderly man, has to make a lot of changes to his expected crew, and is introduced to a young man, previously a car thief, who isn’t very bright but has an eye for photography. 


And, one way or another, the people introduced in the early chapters come together - in meetings, in accommodation, at events. The writing is excellent, so that I was hardly aware of viewpoint switches - and there are a lot of them. Robin Pilcher has a similar gift of characterisation to his late mother, and all the people in this book felt both distinct and realistic. I don’t remember physical descriptions and often find it hard to imagine people in books, but despite the large number, I found I had a feel for most of the significant ones by the time I was about half way through.


In a sense there’s not a whole lot of plot; the book is made up of subplots, the main action over just a few weeks. There’s tension, there’s poignancy, there’s a budding romance, and there’s a sad (but foreshadowed) event that makes a huge difference to another character. And there’s a feeling of buzz - of excitement, as the festival progresses, with crowds of people, reviews in the newspapers, lots going on behind the scenes. 


So overall I did enjoy this book. Perhaps not quite as much as the others I recently re-read by this author, but enough that I’ll probably read it again in another decade or so. 



Review copyright 2023 Sue's Book Reviews

7 Mar 2023

The Chalet School and Rosalie (by Elinor M Brent-Dyer)

The Chalet School and Rosalie
(Amazon UK link)
In the lengthy Chalet School series for teenagers by Elinor M Brent-Dyer, there are two books which were published out of sequence. Last time I did a full read-through, I managed to miss them out, but this time I’ve ensured I read them as part of the chronological order. So I re-read ‘Tom Tackles the Chalet School’ just over a month ago. That was originally published in two parts in Chalet School annuals. I’ve just finished the very short sequel, ‘The Chalet School and Rosalie’, which wasn’t widely available when first published.


My copy is an Armada edition; apparently it wasn’t abridged - just as well since it’s so short anyway, fewer than 100 pages. It follows a rather sensitive and shy twelve-year-old girl called Rosalie Way whom we first meet on the train to school, looked after by a very reluctant Tom. The two are about as different as possible: Tom, brought up by a single father in a vicarage, is practical and boyish; Rosalie has long curls and easy tears, and is very feminine. However she develops a kind of crush on Tom, who is horrified. But despite this the two become quite friendly over the course of the book.


I’d entirely forgotten the story - I last read this in 2001 - although I recalled the general idea. It’s not a particularly exciting or significant book as far as the series goes, but I like the feeling of keeping in touch with the characters. The school is still in Armiford (the author's fictionalised Herefordshire, apparently), in a huge house with large grounds belonging to the family of Gwensi, one of the seniors. 


So, as with most of the rest of the series, there are classroom incidents, a few arguments, and in the end Rosalie becomes a ‘real’ Chalet School girl. She has a surprisingly hot temper and is very stubborn at times, so - for instance - she’s determined to specialise in cricket rather than tennis because Tom likes cricket.  She has a point in that she says she’s always wanted to try cricket, but they have lessons in both anyway. And Rosalie is really quite good at tennis, for her age.


Rosalie also takes awhile to understand some of the rules, and - when she’s in a temper - doesn’t much care about them anyway. She’s an interesting character, and although there’s nothing special in this short volume, I liked reading it. Unusually Jo Maynard doesn’t appear, although she’s mentioned more than once; the (predictable) reason becomes clear later in the book. 


Worth reading if you’re a fan of the series, but it’s not a book that adds very much, and wouldn’t be a great introduction. It’s best read directly after ‘Tom Tackles the Chalet School’, before ‘Three Go to the Chalet School’, which I expect to re-read next month. Tends to be highly priced and quite rare online, but can occasionally be found at second-hand or charity shops.



Review copyright 2023 Sue's Book Reviews

6 Mar 2023

Everything I never told you (by Celeste Ng)

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng
(Amazon UK link)
I hadn’t heard of Celeste Ng, but her debut novel ‘Everything I never told you’ was assigned as this month’s read for our local book group. So I put it on my wishlist at the end of last year, and was given it for Christmas. I didn’t start reading it until a couple of days ago, and finished it today; I found it quite hard to put down at times. It’s set in the United States, with the main part of the story being in 1977. 


The novel opens by telling us that Lydia is dead, but her family doesn’t yet know. It’s not that the narrator is her killer (which was my first thought) or someone who observed her dying. It’s an authorial comment, something which I think of as rather old-fashioned. But it works… and similar asides are used throughout the book. 


The novel is written in an omniscient viewpoint style, seeing into the minds of the five members of Lydia’s family, regularly switching viewpoint. And it works. The switches are so well done that the narration doesn’t feel disjointed or awkward, as ciykd so easily happen. Nor is it an issue when there’s a sudden author comment about what is going to happen in the future, which the person concerned has no idea about. 


There are many time-switches too. Although the book opens with the day that Lydia has died, and moves forward a few months during the course of the book, there are many flashbacks and forays into the past. We see, for instance, how Lydia’s parents (James and Marilyn) first met. Before that, we see Marilyn with her mother, desperate to escape her rather cloistered lifestyle.  


Slowly, a picture builds up of an oddly dysfunctional family. James is from a Chinese background although he’s an American citizen. We first meet him, in the 1950s, lecturing at a university. Marilyn is one of his students. She’s only a few years younger than he is, but strongly attracted to him. To ensure he doesn’t get in trouble, she quits his course…she loves the fact that he’s not like other men, who treat her as a ditzy female, refusing to recognise or acknowledge her intelligence and ambition.


James and Marilyn’s oldest child, Nath (which I assume is short for Nathan) is 18, about to head off to Harvard university. He’s extremely bright, passionate about anything to do with space. But - as we quickly realise - he’s mostly been ignored by his parents, in favour of Lydia. She was 16 when she died, and was clearly her parents’ favourite. Her younger sister Hannah, who must be about ten, has mostly been ignored. Hannah is quiet, intuitive and observant, and longs for her parents to notice her. 


I found it quite hard to comprehend the racism that the family experiences, but perhaps in 1970s small town America it wasn’t unusual. Nath and Lydia have been the only Chinese (or, rather, half-Chinese) students at their high school, and they’re known as ‘Orientals’. This is part of what makes life difficult for them all, but their parents make it worse. James continually wants them - particularly Lydia - to make friends, to smile, to go with whatever is the norm, in the hope of fitting in. Marilyn doesn’t much mind what Nath and Hannah do, but she’s determined that Lydia will be a doctor, as she had hoped to be herself before her life changed course.


I found it hard to relate to either of the parents, living in a culture and era so removed from my own. Growing up in 1960s England, in the Midlands, it wasn’t so unusual to have people of Asian, African or other non-European descent around us. Most were born in the UK, and we didn’t see them as any different - until their parents’ culture impinged on them in some way, as sometimes happened. There were, of course, a few ignorant racists, as there still are. But not the majority, as this book seems to suggest was the case. 


But quite apart from James feeling like an outsider, and Marilyn determined to break with expectations and norms, they seem ignorant of any principles of raising children. The unfairness of it all struck me several times;  Nath and Lydia have quite a good relationship, sympathising with each other, but their parents don’t seem to understand or appreciate either of them for who they really are. I liked all three of the children, who were well-drawn and three dimensional, each with their hopes and dreams, each wanting something from their parents which they didn’t get. I thought Hannah the most believable. 


The mystery of Lydia’s disappearance is gradually told, building some tension and not really resolving what happened until towards the end. And although the final pages of the book are positive, on the whole, looking to the future, I found the climax - the resolution - very sad. It’s a poignant book, reflecting on the problems in this family; there’s no actual abuse (other than one dramatic slap) but a great deal of neglect, and emotional pressure.  


The writing is excellent and I expect the story will stay with me for a while. The reading group were mixed in their opinions; most liked it, on the whole; two of them really didn’t. I’m not sure I’d recommend it, but if you like this genre of fiction, it’s a good book to try. I’m glad I read it although it’s not a book I’d have chosen without it being on the reading group list.


Review copyright 2023 Sue's Book Reviews

5 Mar 2023

Going Postal (by Terry Pratchett)

Going Postal by Terry Pratchett
(Amazon UK link)
I was quite looking forward to reaching ‘Going Postal’ in my gradual re-read of the late Sir Terry Pratchett’s lengthy Discworld series. It’s one of the books I read aloud to my teenage sons in 2005, having bought it in hardback soon after publication, and I recalled liking it very much.


I had even remembered what happened in the first chapter - a very dramatic opening to the book - which results in the condemned crook Moist von Lipwig being appointed as the new Postmaster General for the Ankh Morpork post office.  The post office has been entirely dormant for some years and there have been others appointed to this role, but they all suffered unpleasant accidents… some quite recently. However Moist has no option but to accept, and no chance to escape as he is determinedly followed and tracked down by a Golem known as Mr Pump. 


Most of the former post office staff have long gone, but two remain. There’s the elderly Mr Grout, who believes in dosing himself with all kinds of dodgy remedies, and never washes. There’s also the younger Stanley, a gangly, nervous young man who only becomes enthusiastic when talking about his all-consuming hobby of collecting pins.


Moist has worked as a conman and swindler all his life, and was apparently very good at it, but he isn’t entirely lost to emotion, and does have a kind of standard of decency. He will engage in a fair fight, although he prefers to avoid physical pain, but he tries to avoid hurting the innocent, where possible, and is proud of the fact that he’s never killed anyone. Not directly, anyway…


It’s a good story, the first of the main Discworld books to be written in chapters; that’s something I had not remembered. And I’d forgotten most of the details of the book. Moist does not just have to restart a post office that’s stopped doing anything, he has to wade through mountains of undelivered mail, some of it going back decades, blocking up doorways and covering furniture everywhere in the huge post office. 


He also finds that he’s in competition with the ‘clacks’ towers - a kind of Discworld semaphore-based phone system that uses Disc-style computers and geeky people who like numbers… but which has been taken over by a ruthless conman who’s as talented as Moist, but without his hint of humanity.


Lord Vetinari appears several times, smooth and tyrannical, yet doing what he can for the city. And there’s a wonderful section about the invention of stamps which I appreciated very much. 


Still one of my favourite of the Discworld novels, probably because it’s so character-based and Moist is a wonderful, complex character who’s likeable despite his criminal tendencies. I hope it won’t be another eighteen years before I read it again.


Definitely recommended if you’re a fan of these books. If you haven’t read any Discworld books before, this could make a good starting point, as most of the characters are new to this story.



Review copyright 2023 Sue's Book Reviews