Britt-Marie was here (by Fredrik Backman)

(Amazon UK link)

I very much liked the book ‘Anxious people’ by Fredrik Backman when our local reading group read it a couple of years ago. And I enjoyed ‘A man called Ove’ when I read that in the summer. So I was pleased to find that the reading group had chosen another book by this author for this month’s read: ‘Britt-Marie was here’. I was able to buy it inexpensively for my Kindle when it was on special offer.

The story is about a woman of 63 called Britt-Marie. We meet her in a job centre, being rather a nuisance to the unfortunate girl behind the counter. Britt-Marie wants a job, but she has no professional experience - or nothing recent - and she has no idea what she wants to do. It’s quickly clear that she was married but is no longer, though it takes a bit longer to learn what happened. She doesn’t need money; she seems to have plenty. But she wants a job. 

Britt-Marie has obsessive-compulsive tendencies. The author demonstrates this right at the start as we see her pondering the best - indeed, the only - way to organise a cutlery drawer. This theme recurs again, later in the book. Britt-Marie evidently likes routines, and believes that certain things (such as meals) must happen at certain times. She keeps endless lists to keep her days ordered. And she hassles the job centre worker so much that she is eventually given a job.

The job doesn’t pay very much, and is only for three weeks. It’s at run-down small town miles from anywhere; Britt-Marie is to be the caretaker for a recreation centre. The bulk of the book takes place as she tries to impose some order - including extensive cleaning - and gets to know a few locals, most of whom are as strange as she is, albeit in different ways.

But there are also forays into the past, as Britt-Marie remembers comments by her husband, putting her down. She also mentions the loss of her sister at a young age, and the circumstances surrounding it. I found myself feeling more and more in sympathy with her - her obsessive compulsive nature seems to have stemmed from childhood neglect and trauma. Then she had a husband who considered her socially awkward, and didn’t succeed in hiding the fact that he was having an affair…

Fredrik Backman is Swedish but his books are very well translated, and I thought this, like the others, was very well written. He has a dry kind of humour and an excellent writing style. In several places I smiled; more than once I almost laughed. The poignancy is well balanced by the lighter sections, and I found it a very readable book.

Having said that, I felt that it dragged a bit in the middle. That’s partly because there are quite a few young teenagers who drop into the recreation centre; they mostly had nicknames, and they all seemed rather two-dimensional. There’s rather a lot of football, too. Britt-Marie has no interest in football at first, but gradually finds herself drawn in, even getting excited at tense matches. Football (indeed, any competitive sport) leaves me cold. I could see that it was used in the book as a means of drawing the community together; that football is something of a metaphor for life, and in particular for Britt-Marie’s gradual thawing. But it’s not a metaphor that drew me in.

There are some likeable characters in the book, although none of them is explored in any great depth. There are some important issues at stake: quite apart from the emotional abuse Britt-Marie has suffered, there are children living in poverty and neglect, an older teenager who is in trouble with the police, and one who is seriously in debt. The picture of the almost abandoned former town is realistic and quite moving at times. And the ending of the book, although somewhat left open, is - I thought - quite satisfying. 

I didn’t like this quite as much as the other books I read by Fredrik Backman, but I still enjoyed it overall.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Tell it to the skies (by Erica James)

(Amazon UK link)

I’m slowly re-reading my collection of novels by Erica James, interspersed with other books. I’ve just finished ‘Tell it to the skies’, which I last read in 2008. I know I liked it when I first read it, but had entirely forgotten the story and the characters. 

The novel opens in a dramatic way. A woman called Lydia, in her forties, sees something that startles her so much that she trips and falls, twisting her ankle badly. We learn that she lives in Italy, and next see her back in her apartment where her stepdaughter Chiara is looking after her. Lydia doesn’t want to say what - or who - has shocked her and there’s some good interaction between the two. Clearly they have a positive, caring relationship despite the fact that Lydia’s husband - Chiara’s father - died a few years earlier. 

All might have blown over, but in what feels like a massive coincidence (though necessary in order for the story to take place) the person whom Lydia saw turns out to be Ishmael, Chiara’s new love interest. Lydia quickly realises he must be the son of someone she knew decades earlier, called Noah - everything adds up. But still she doesn’t say anything, and this makes no sense until nearly the end of the book. 

Lydia’s closest friend and ally is her brother-in-law Fabio, who is sensitive and kind. He says he promised his brother to look after Lydia, and he gently persuades her to tell him what’s on her mind. She shows him photos she’s dug out, of Noah as a teenager, and he looks remarkably similar to Ishmael. And eventually, after much reluctance, she agrees to tell her story…

The novel then jumps back to Lydia’s childhood ('then') in the 1960s. This works very well as a device, rather than using flashback style. It’s a happy time until her father suddenly dies; Lydia is only eight, but her mother becomes clinically depressed and dependent on alcohol, and Lydia has to look after her two-year-old sister Valerie. She’s a resilient, competent and caring child who changes - and even washes - nappies, as well as attempting to look after her mother. 

Disaster strikes, and the children end up with their father’s parents whom they had never met. These grandparents are members of a strict and cultic church, and have no desire to house their grandchildren. They expect obedience, lots of work around the house, and no answering back. Lydia is not allowed to read anything other than the Bible. Their grandfather shouts, and sometimes treats them cruelly, sadistically so at times.  The other members of the church won’t hear a thing against him… Lydia’s only friend and ally is a slightly eccentric lady known as Sister Lottie. 

Then she makes a friend at school. Noah, too, is an orphan and the uncle he lives with is a bohemian artist, about as different as possible from Lydia’s grandparents. Lydia has to sneak out of the house to meet Noah, pretending she’s doing something else. I liked their friendship very much, and the way it slowly, hesitatingly, (but predictably) turns to love. 

The writing and characterisation are so good in this novel that I found it almost impossible to put down. It’s nearly 500 pages long, but I read it in just a couple of days. I had no memory at all for the story, so it was as if I were reading it for the first time. I felt Lydia’s tensions, I was rooting for her to get away with her many deceptions. I liked Sister Lottie very much, I loathed her grandfather. 

But all the time I was wondering why Lydia was so reluctant to talk about Noah, a couple of decades later, to her stepdaughter. I also wondered why they had evidently parted ways. I found the narrative engrossing as events unfold, more rapidly as the story reaches the climax. Then Lydia starts making assumptions that, I was sure, are unfounded. I didn’t quite see why she doesn’t ask a few more questions, but she’s eighteen by this stage, and what she does is because of her deep love for Noah. 

Eventually the novel moves back to the present ('now'), as Lydia comes to the end of her narrative to Fabio. Everything makes sense, and the rest of the story moves forward from then. I thought the structure worked very well, and that the characters - the nice ones, anyway - felt three-dimensional and real. The unpleasant ones are, I hope, caricatures. 

Unfortunately, though, there are still cultic churches that practise the kind of leader-worship and strict puritanism that happens in this book. Dreadful things are sometimes done in the name of religion. But Erica James doesn’t seem to be anti-religion (or anti-God) as such; she portrays some delightful people such as Lottie, who has a deep and caring faith. She also portrays, in passing, likeable, kind folk from Catholic and Anglican churches. 

As well as being a good story, the plot raises questions about choices that affect our lives, and about guilt. Lydia feels guilty for years, for instance, about something she asked her mother for, which, she believes, led to tragedy. Noah feels some guilt, too, about events in his past. There’s a lot to think about, and I found myself wondering what might have happened if Lydia had not leapt to conclusions when she was eighteen, before she lost touch with Noah. 

My only gripe about the book is that it seems rather sordid in places. Some of this is necessary -  I thought the portrayal of Lydia’s classmate Donna was excellent, for instance. But in other places I found myself cringing, wondering why sections were included. I was particularly disappointed to come across a detailed scene of intimacy later in the book, something that the author usually avoids. When I have come to feel that two characters are like friends I know well, I really don’t want to know what they get up to in private. 

So I won’t lend this to younger teenage friends. That’s a pity in a way, as most of the narrative takes place when Lydia is a child and teenager, and there are some interesting issues that arise, relevant to teens. However, to older teens and adults who like Erica James’ novels, and who don’t mind some sordid details, I would recommend it. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

How not to pray (by Jeff Lucas)

(Amazon UK link)

It’s almost ten years since I read Jeff Lucas’s little book ‘How not to pray’, which is subtitled  ‘A fresh look at prayer’. I’ve liked everything I’ve read by Jeff Lucas, so decided it was time for a re-read.

The introduction is very reassuring to ordinary people like me who find it difficult to get around to much praying, other than when some potential disaster is looming. Jeff Lucas, in his typical wry style, says that he tends to run in the opposite direction when faced with a book on prayer. He knows that most of them are well-written, full of Scriptural references and great advice. But they’re written by people who are very good at praying…

So he’s come up with this gem, which looks at the prayer generally known as the ‘Lord’s prayer’, a sentence or two at the time. And he looks at ideas or beliefs that can make it difficult or impossible to spend time in prayer. Or which make us feel inferior to those ‘prayer warriors’ who get up early and spend many hours interceding. 

The first chapter tells us that one block to prayer is the inherent belief that we can’t. This might happen when we glance around a meeting of believers, perhaps a church service, and see everyone else engaged in spiritual activity while we feel entirely separate from them. Lucas reminds us that sometimes we’re only told good things - that accounts of wonderful answers to prayer tend to leave out the times of bleakness when there don’t seem to be any answers. 

As with most of this author’s books, he uses anecdotes and some self-deprecating humour to illustrate and make some of his points. I find the writing very readable and appreciate the thoughts that are often easier to discover and remember than those written in a more formal or academic style.

Subsequent chapters remind us that prayers don’t have to be long or well-formulated, and that sometimes it’s good to be with others, agreeing in prayer or even using the same words written by someone in the past. We need to know that God is here, that he welcomes us; that prayer isn’t just about us, but that we should bring all our needs to God. 

It’s not that there’s anything new in this book - most of this advice can be found elsewhere. But it’s refreshing to read it from someone who acknowledges his own failings. I can almost picture Jeff Lucas feeling bored with a long sermon; dropping off in a prayer meeting or finding his mind wandering entirely off topic. I can imagine him, too, about to go on stage to give a talk only to be distracted - and perhaps rather worried - by well-meaning but misguided prayers of would-be encouragers.

It’s a book by an ordinary person who wants to follow Jesus, and who believes in the importance of prayer, yet who struggles to find the discipline to pray, and who often feels rather cynical. I like the way that he expresses all his main points as negatives - as how ‘not’ to pray, as the book title says, rather than telling us directly what to do. I love that he’s honest about the fact that he often gets it wrong. But God loves him anyway.

Definitely worth reading, probably more often than once a decade.

Recommended. I'm sad to see that this book is now out of print but it should be possible to find it second-hand, or perhaps in a church library.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Chalet School does it again (by Elinor M Brent-Dyer)

(Amazon UK link)

I’m slowly re-reading the lengthy ‘Chalet School’ series by Elinor M Brent-Dyer, at a rate of around ten per year. I’ve just finished the 32nd book in the original series, ‘The Chalet School does it again’. I last read it in 2014. It’s not one I reread extensively when I was younger, and I had forgotten most of the story. 

The book takes place in the second term for the Swiss Oberland branch of the Chalet School, and follows directly on from ‘The Chalet School and Barbara’, which I re-read in the middle of September. This is the Easter term so it begins when the ground is frozen, and the Maynard triplets become boarders despite living next-door. 

The main new girl in this book is Prunella Davison, someone I had not remembered at all. She’s considered to be a very bizarre person, because she speaks in an extremely formal style. She sounds like someone from a 19th century novel, and expresses herself rather condescendingly in ways that annoy the other girls very much. She is average in most subjects, excelling in art; but her French is poor and her German non-existent, so she has to have extra coaching. 

Naturally there’s a chapter about skiing, when the weather is suitable, and the author’s oft-repeated information is imparted to people who are starting to ski, including Prunella. I learned from Brent-Dyer about snow blindness when I was a teenager, meaning that one should always wear dark sunglasses (ideally goggles) when out in the snow on a sunny day. I also learned about the importance of wrapping up warmly, and of keeping one’s skis straight. I don’t know why the same conversations happen in every Chalet School book that has a skiing scene but it’s not a huge problem.

The upcoming sale in aid of the sanatorium is (as in many of the books) an important theme, too. The prefects come up with an idea that has been done before, but not for many years. What’s significant is that they have sufficient costumes. I was a bit surprised that the Welsen branch (the finishing school not far away) grabs all the fairytale costumes for their pantomime, and then ends up doing something that wouldn’t need them at all… indeed, I would have thought there would  have been a clash, as far as costumes were concerned. But those of us who love the Chalet School books are used to what are affectionately known as EBD-isms. 

There’s high drama on a trip to Lucerne, where we’re treated to some descriptions of real places and statues - I even googled for some of the things mentioned. Perhaps I could have done a ‘street view’ tour along with the girls, but I decided against it, this time anyway. All is going well, until - inevitably - someone does something spontaneous and foolish and ends up in what could be a very dangerous situation. And - also inevitably, for this series - someone else rushes to the rescue, and is branded a hero although she brushes it off, insisting that she did what anyone would do.

There’s quite a moving section when Joey Maynard speaks to the girl who did the rescue, helping her to sort out some of her stresses and confusions about life. I know these incidents irritate some readers; and perhaps the conversation is unrealistic. But I thought it was helpful. This kind of thing helped to shape my own ideas when I was a teenager; I loved the way that Joey related to her own family as well as to the girls in the school.

There are one or two unfinished threads: during the pantomime, for instance, Miss Wilson spots someone who asks a question, and thinks she looks familiar. But we never learn who she is, or why she asked a specific question about some of the girls who were dancing. It’s also not entirely clear how Prunella manages to turn her life around completely, despite a significant incident; but, as one would expect, by the end of the term she’s a ‘real Chalet School girl’ who is making friends and getting along just fine.

Sometimes the scene-by-scene descriptions of the pantomimes or plays are tedious; they usually take up an entire chapter of the books. But I thought this one was quite interesting, even though I skimmed somewhat and didn’t really read the lyrics of the songs. 

All in all, I thought this a good addition to the series. Nothing special, but then it must have been increasingly hard for the author to come up with new storylines, so there’s inevitably some repetition. And while all the books technically stand alone, they work a lot better being read more-or-less in order. This helps to see the progression of the school, and also the personality development of the significant characters. It also introduces people a few at a time, rather than all at once. 

Recommended to adults or teens if you like this series, but probably not as an introduction to it. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Italian matchmaker (by Santa Montefiore)

(Amazon UK link)

Every so often I visit a church book fair, and pick up a few inexpensive novels that look interesting. I often try new authors, basing my decisions on the blurb on the back, and also, more frivolously, on the appearance of the front cover. One book which I bought - over four years ago! - is ‘The Italian Matchmaker’. I had not heard of the author, Santa Montefiore, but I thought the cover of the book attractive, and the outline on the back sounded like my kind of book.

It’s taken me this long to decide to read it, and I almost gave up after the first chapter. That’s where we meet the main character - Luca, who is 41, divorced, and who has just quit his London business as a banker. He’s clearly very well off, but rather depressed. He’s visiting his old friend Freya and her family, and clearly wants to separate Freya from her husband Miles. Luca and Freya were an ‘item’ briefly in their youth, and he never liked Miles. 

The first chapter includes a dinner party with tedious young woman called Annabel who decides she wants to sleep with Luca. There’s also quite a lot made of an older woman called Peggy who cooks the meal and dresses up, because she is keen on Freya’s stepfather Fitz. The reason I nearly gave up after the first chapter is that everyone appears to be obsessed with sex. The language is crude, and none of the people at all likeable. Annabel and Peggy don't even appear again. 

I decided to give the book another chance, so I kept reading. Luca sets off to the Amalfi coast in Italy to stay with his parents. They have recently renovated a huge mansion that was in danger of turning into a ruin, and he is curious to see it. He also wants to get away from Freya who makes it clear that she’s content to be married to Miles, and does not want to have an affair with Luca.

There are a lot of characters in this book. Luca’s parents are the ones we meet first in Italy, although his father is a very shadowy background person. I’ve already forgotten his mother’s name. She is a hospitable person who likes showing off her new home, and there are several guests in residence. There’s an elderly professor who is interested in history, for instance. There’s also a very large woman known to all as ‘Ma’. And a young lovey-dovey couple. For no apparent reason Luca takes an immediate dislike to them all, although later he decides that some of them aren’t so bad as he gets to know them.

There’s also a family-run trattoria which Luca visits many times. There’s an attractive, flirting waitress called Rosa, and a dark, morose-looking girl called Cosima who is Rosa’s cousin. Rosa’s mother Alba owns the restaurant and as we quickly learn, her mother was the mistress of the previous owner of Luca’s parents’ new home, and was murdered. 

At least, I think I have that right. The details were mentioned several times in different conversations but with so many different people I found it hard to recall who was whom. I didn’t find any of them interesting enough to make a list, or to figure out the relationships. 

There are a lot of different subplots, some of which didn’t seem to add anything much to the overall story. There’s a journalist who wants to write an article about the restored house, for instance. But all she wants to do is to seduce any male she happens to be alone with. Alba’s husband is the photographer, but he doesn’t, as far as I could tell, even meet the journalist. Or maybe I missed that. It’s the kind of book where my mind kept drifting so I had to turn back a page or two at times to remember what was happening.

One of the more significant subplots concerns a small folly that had been kept in good condition by someone, and which Luca’s parents haven’t changed. It’s bizarrely full of 'adult' books and erotic objects, and becomes the meeting place for various people. There are worries about an intruder, but no real tension. 

Oh, and there’s a ghost, although not a scary one. Luca is able to see the spirits of people who have died, and there’s one in particular whom he keeps seeing. He doesn’t realise it’s a ghost at first, but it leads him towards someone whom he falls in love with. It's unlikely that he would do so within a couple of weeks of insisting he had only ever loved Freya, but Luca is a wealthy and spoilt womaniser. I really didn’t like him. 

To add to the generally flat or dislikeable cast in the book, the writing is not great quality. There are rapid viewpoint changes within almost every scene, which is partly why we never really have a chance to get to know anyone. There are an abundance of cliches, too - not just in conversation, but throughout the book. And there is a lot of repetition, and character ‘thoughts’ that are only slightly disguised authorial ‘telling’ rather than ‘showing’.  I feel that it could have been improved with some significant editing.

And yet… I kept reading. Most of the book isn’t as sordid as the first chapter suggests, and I skipped the few detailed unsavoury encounters that happen. They add nothing at all to the story and (in my view) should have been edited out entirely. The ending is somewhat predictable, after the historical 'mysteries' rather peter out, but satisfactory. 

There are lots of snippets of high praise from newspaper reviewers at the front of the book; it’s hard to believe that they actually read it. The story itself has potential, and some of the descriptions of it are good. The author is clearly familiar with the location, and writes from personal experience. But most of the writing is not ‘beautiful’; it certainly isn’t ‘funny’; and, in my opinion, none of the characters is ‘brilliantly drawn’. 

However, it appears that others enjoyed this book very much, so don’t necessarily take my word for it. It’s evidently well liked in general, and written by a popular author.  But it’s not one I shall read again, and, personally I wouldn't recommend it. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews