The O'Sullivan Twins (by Enid Blyton)

(Amazon UK link)

I loved the St Clare’s books by Enid Blyton when I was a child, and reread them regularly as a teenager. So I was delighted to discover in the summer that my seven-year-old granddaughter had discovered them on audio books and was listening to them regularly. At the end of August I re-read ‘The Twins at St Clare’s’, the first in the series, and very much liked the nostalgia as well as the story.

So a couple of days ago I picked up the second in the series, ‘The O’Sullivan Twins’, which I hadn’t read in, probably, thirty years or more. This book is set in Pat and Isabel’s second term at the no-nonsense boarding school. Before the Christmas holidays finish, they learn that their rather fluffy cousin Alison is to join them. They find her a bit annoying as she’s obsessed with her appearance, and likes new clothes. But they think St Clare’s may be very good for her.

There are two other new girls in the First Form: Lucy, who is small and bubbly, and Margery, who’s tall and grumpy. Lucy is very clever at everything other than maths, and brilliant at drawing. She makes friends quickly and is liked by everyone. Margery is quite a contrast: she rejects all overtures of friendship, and is surprisingly rude to the school staff. She seems to care nothing about school, and only works hard in gym and games where she’s exceptionally talented. 

Alison is accepted because she’s the twins’ cousin, but most of the girls consider her rather vain and self-centred, although she is nowhere near as angry or obnoxious as Pat and Isabel were at the start of their first term. 

This book introduces some of the Second Form girls too; they share a common room with the First Form, although they don’t see much of each other during the daytime. One of them has an upcoming birthday and decides to invite just a few girls, including the twins and their friend Janet to a small midnight feast in a music room. Among other things they decide to fry sausages.

All would be well but for a particularly unpleasant girl in the Second Form who dislikes almost everyone, but Pat most of all. So she plays some spiteful tricks and gets her into trouble, allowing Margery to take the blame.  

Although Enid Blyton’s style is quite annoying, from this adult perspective, it’s a good story on the whole. As with most school stories of the era (this was first published in 1942) a lot of value is given to traits such as honesty, courage and integrity. A clear boundary is established between mischief and real bad behaviour, and it’s made clear that even a midnight feast is just schoolgirl naughtiness rather than a serious misdemeanour. 

There are several mentions of ‘punishment’, a word I don’t like. When the girls decide to ‘punish’ one of their classmates it feels rather inappropriate from this 21st century perspective. It’s bullying by another name, and in some cases entirely undeserved. The school Head, Miss Theobald, likes her occasional punishments to fit the ‘crime’ - and thankfully there’s no caning or anything like that, which was common in boys’ schools of the era. 

And yet, despite rolling my eyes somewhat at the style here and there, it’s a good story. Some of the people are caricatured, but the twins and some of their friends are believable and likeable. I found myself quickly drawn into the story, quite moved by some of the events later in the term, as Lucy has a serious shock, and when one of the girls shows immense bravery.

I’m very pleased that this series has been reprinted so many times, and that it’s available as an audio book to help younger children discover Enid Blyton, who was such a prolific author. It’s true that some of her writing was trite, some of it racist and classist, and much of it formulaic. But she inspired children. She gave me, and many thousands of people like me, a love of reading which I’ve never lost, and I remain very grateful. 

I would recommend ‘The O’Sullivan Twins’ (and others in the series) to children of about seven and up, either as a read-aloud, or an audio book, or for fluent readers to try for themselves. But I don’t suppose they will interest adults, other than those of us who regard them as a nostalgic memory from our childhoods.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Evening Class (by Maeve Binchy)

(Amazon UK link)

I’m gradually re-reading most of my Maeve Binchy collection, although I’ve missed out a few of the earlier ones which I hadn’t liked as much as her later books. I’ve just finished ‘Evening Class’, which I last read in 2006. I had almost entirely forgotten the plot, and had not remembered any of the characters. But I knew that I liked it very much, and hoped I would not have changed my opinion eighteen years later.

I’m pleased to report that, once again, I thought this an excellent book. The overall story concerns a group of 30 diverse people who decide to join an evening class to learn Beginners' Italian.  But whereas this could have led to a rather dull description of each evening, Binchy introduces us, one at a time, to key members of her cast. She shows us a little of each person's viewpoint as the story progresses.  

The number of characters is high, and trying to remember their relationships is a bit daunting, so I made pencil notes at the beginning of the book. I’m pretty sure that some of these folk reappear in later books by Maeve Binchy so I’ll be glad of the reference in future. As with most of her novels, it’s set in Ireland. 

The first family we meet is that of Aidan Dunne. He’s a thoughtful man, approaching fifty, who teaches Latin at the local comprehensive school. He has given a lot to the school, and is generally liked. The Headmaster is soon to retire, and Aidan believes he will be given the role. The only other contender for the post is Tony O’Brien, a much more recent addition to the school staff, who doesn’t seem to care much about the school or even know the names of most of the pupils.

Aidan is married to Nell, and wonders why their marriage seems to have gone stale. She no longer seems to have any interest in his job, or the stories he can tell. And she doesn’t talk about her own work, as a cashier at the local posh restaurant, Quentin’s. They have two young adult daughters still living at home, but they’re out and about and barely spend any time with their parents. Aidan isn’t a pushy guy, and mostly goes with the flow.

What Aidan doesn’t know is that his older daughter Grania has met and become very attracted to someone much older than she is...

In the next chapter, we meet Nora, known as Signora, who has lived in Italy for the past twenty years. She went there in defiance of her family because she was in love with an Italian man, even though she knew he had to marry someone else for the sake of his family. She lived in a small flat, observing his family, giving wise advice, and working as a tour guide, an English teacher, and the provider of beautifully sewn clothes and household furnishings. 

A sudden tragedy forces Nora to use the last of her savings to travel back to the UK and look for inexpensive accommodation. Which she finds after meeting a bright young woman called Suzi who works at a restaurant. Suzi has a younger brother who goes to Aidan’s school. Nora’s closest friend is called Brenda, and she, with her husband Patrick, run Quentins restaurant. 

The next chapter introduces a young man called Bill whose best (platonic) friend is Grania. He works in a bank and is in love with a rather ditzy girl called Lizzie. She is convinced that he’s going to be a wealthy bank manager, and when he mentions Italy she thinks they will go there….

And so, chapter by chapter, different characters are introduced, each one with some connection to those whom we have previously got to know. Writing them down helped me to remember much better who was whom and what their connections were. 

But the overall theme is that of the new Italian evening class, starting at Aidan’s school, under his direction. All the main characters sign up after Signorina is asked to teach it. She is clearly an excellent teacher who encourages them to talk to each other, and to learn useful words and phrases. She also teaches them about the culture, introduces them to Italian food, and generally inspires them all, whatever their level of understanding or education. 

Gradually a strong community spirit develops, but as new characters have their own chapters - with their stories often going back a decade or more - there are more and more connections.  There’s the wealthy Connie, for instance, whose husband’s business has crashed; this affects more than one person and she learns about them almost by accident. There’s a young man caught up in a web of crime who uses the school to store some dodgy boxes. There’s a growing friendship between Aidan and Signora which everyone else is aware of and suspects will lead to something else…

And so much more. I felt totally caught up in this community of diverse and fascinating people, each at the class for different reasons, each with their own past and secrets, some of which come to light over the course of the book.

It’s not a quick read: my paperback edition has over 500 pages, but I found myself picking it up at every available moment to find out more about the many subplots that intertwine so cleverly. The novel takes place over the course of nearly a year, and the final chapters take us to Rome, for an end-of-year class trip that they all manage to take after extensive fund-raising. Misunderstandings arise, decisions have to be made… and the ending, back in Ireland, is nicely done.

All in all, I thought this a wonderful book. I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to pick it up again to reread. Recommended highly to anyone who likes this kind of gentle women’s fiction with a lot going on, and some delightfully realistic and diverse characters.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Late Mattia Pascal (by Luigi Pirandello)

(Amazon UK link)

I had never heard of Luigi Pirandello. He was an Italian writer, best-known, apparently, for his plays. He was born in 1867 and his novel ‘The Late Mattia Pascal’ was written in 1904. It was allocated for this month’s local reading group, and I acquired a translated copy of this book for my Kindle. I didn’t realise at first that it was published 120 years ago. As I read the first few chapters, I vaguely thought it was set in around the 1950s. 

The novel is told in the first person, sometimes in quite a disjointed way, by Mattia Pascal. He tells us right at the beginning that he has already died twice, and that he’s going to tell his story. He’s working in a church, we learn, and his colleague is the one who wants him to write about his rather unusual life.

The first few chapters are a bit confusing, letting us know his current circumstances, and with a great deal of rambling. I quite liked the style, speaking directly to a reader, with conversational breaks here and there. But I did wonder when the story was really going to start…

Eventually the story begins, giving us some background to Mattia’s life. He was born in a prosperous family, but unfortunately his father died when he was just four years old. His mother was quite nervous, and put all her trust in a family friend who turned out to be a cheat. He gradually acquired the family property and money, but pretended to be helping them. 

So Mattia is struggling to survive, when he falls in love. He manages to get a job, but then his potential bride marries someone else. He’s devastated, but meets another woman whom he marries. All might have gone well, but his wife’s mother moves in too. She’s overbearing and dominates everyone. Mattia gets more and more depressed, and one thing that brings him joy ends in tragedy.  

He’s thoroughly fed up, and decides to travel somewhere random for a few days, where he manages to win a great deal of money gambling. And then, on his way back home, he reads in a newspaper that he has been declared dead. A body was found in the local river, and somehow determined to be Mattia Pascal. And instead of returning to disabuse his family and friends of this, Mattia decides that he will adopt a different personality and name. He believes he will be happier free of his debtors (and his mother-in-law) and he has plenty of money to live on for some years.

Much of the book follows Mattia’s life as Adriano Meis living in Rome. And it’s cleverly done. The initial sense of freedom gradually erodes as he realises just how limited he is, without any documentation proving who he is. I was a little surprised that this was the case a hundred and twenty years ago. But he can’t buy a house, he can’t get a job, he can’t get married again… and when people ask awkward questions, he has to invent a past for himself that can’t be checked or refuted. 

The style is unusual, but it works well. I assume the translation is faithful to the original, as it’s very readable with some ironies and low-key humour here and there. There’s also rather a lot of philosophical and other discussion with people Mattia/Adriano meet, and I have to admit to skimming quite a bit of that. The middle of the book does feel a tad long-winded in places, but it makes the point brilliantly. Starting a new life as an adult, free of previous encumbrances, does not necessarily mean freedom or happiness.

The pace increases somewhat towards the end, as Mattia decides to do something radical, not thinking about what might happen, or what the repercussions might be. It’s cleverly done, and I liked the final chapters very much. The people are surprisingly modern in many respects, and come across as three dimensional and believable. 

I was expecting more insights into Italian culture at the start of the 20th century, but the novel is character-based, and I’m not sure I learned anything much about the era, or even the culture. Perhaps it was deliberately written so as to be somewhat timeless and free of too much social history.

I doubt if I’ll read this again, but I would recommend it if you would like something rather different to read. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Putting away childish things (by David A Seamands)

(Amazon UK link)

I know very little about the late David A Seamands, other than brief biographies online. He was a missionary as a young man, and then ordained in the United Methodist Church, where he worked as a senior pastor and then as an advisor. At some point we were given his book ‘Putting Away Childish Things’, and when I first read it I thought it excellent. I read it again in 2007 and, similarly, felt that his ideas and principles were very sound. 

I decided it was time to read the book again, from the perspective of seventeen years later. There were controversies about the author; but we're all flawed. So although I did mention them in the other reviews, I don't think now they relevant to the content of the book. The subtitle of my edition is: ‘reprogram old behavior patterns that are holding you back.’ - with spellings that are a reminder that the book is written by an American, primarily for an American audience. But it’s relevant to everyone. And while written from a strongly Christian perspective, many of the author’s comments could apply to anyone.

The main thesis is that when we overreact or feel a strong sense of anger or shame, as adults, it may be the result of our inner child, not yet grown up. The author admits that this sounds a bit like psychobabble, and he’s not recommending psychological methods on the whole; more a cleansing by the Holy Spirit as we bring past events and memories to the surface.

The first couple of chapters outline these ideas. Seamonds explains that it can be a long process healing memories, particularly for those who had very traumatic childhoods. But we all probably have the remnants of a ‘hidden child’ who comes to the surface in stressful moments. 

He then embarks on specifics that may be causing problems. The first of these is ‘mottos’, or sayings we heard in childhood and have never really refuted. He gives the example of boys not crying, and explains how important it is for all of us to be able to express grief or sadness, by crying if necessary, without feeling any sense of shame. Another motto he mentions is one I never heard, but which the author seems to think was common - ‘Measure up’. He says that some parents imply that their love is conditional on their children’s academic (or sporting or other) performance, rather than because they are loved for who they are. I’m very thankful that I was not subject to this kind of emotional abuse as a child. 

The book moves on, citing childish ideas about love and marriage which can sabotage real love; about false teaching relating to the will of God; about praying like small children rather than mature adults. Which is not to say that we shouldn’t have the natural trust and willingness of small children, but that (among other things) we shouldn’t expect God to be like a heavenly Santa Claus, doling out rewards to those who have been ‘good’. 

I read one or two chapters of the book each day; there are twelve in all, each somewhat complete in itself but also building on earlier chapters. I thought the writing very good. There are some anecdotes from the author’s own life, both his personal life and (with names changed) from the experiences and reports of those whom he counselled or worked with over the years. 

I think the most significant part of the book to me this time was the clear explanation of what ‘self-surrender’ means in the Christian life. It’s not about being a doormat, or about expecting our personalities to change. It’s not about expecting to have to do things we don’t want to do, or even blind obedience, or expecting guidance about every little detail of our lives. Instead, it’s about allowing God to guide our paths, to nudge our consciences, as we become - hopefully - the best version of ourselves that we were created to be. 

Overall, I thought this an excellent book, and would recommend it to believers, or anyone interested in the topic, if you don’t mind the many Christian references. 

  Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Bell Family (by Noel Streatfeild)

(Amazon UK link)

I have been reading and re-reading books by Noel Streatfeild for over fifty years. But it wasn’t until about ten years ago that I managed to acquire a copy of ‘The Bell Family’, which had been reprinted in paperback form. I couldn’t recall ever having read it before. Now, a decade later, I couldn’t remember anything about it, so it was definitely time for a re-read.

The book is about a family who live in London. It was first published as a contemporary novel in the 1950s, and my edition is delightfully illustrated by Shirley Hughes. Alex, the father, is a clergyman. He’s peace-loving, hard-working and often tired. His wife, Cathy, would much prefer to live in the country but she and Alex are a close couple, and she does what she can to support him. Their vicarage is rather a depressing place, in a busy high street, and they have very little money.

However they do have four children. Paul is fourteen as the story gets going. His passion is medicine, and he hopes, one day, to be a doctor. He works hard and managed to win a scholarship to a grammar school. He hopes to continue winning scholarships as he embarks on the lengthy training that will be needed. His sister Jane is twelve; she’s dark-haired, slim and pretty and loves ballet. She doesn’t have the precocious talent of some of Streatfeild’s other dancing children, but she is single-minded and practises daily. She knows she has no hope of going to a ballet school, due to the cost, and the dancing teacher at her school isn’t the greatest. Mostly she has accepted this.

Ginny is the next sister, aged ten. She loves food and is not as slim or attractive as Jane, but she is quite outspoken. She knows her mind and has strong opinions. She also sometimes acts without thinking of the consequences. She is quite close to Angust, the youngest in the family, who is about to turn eight. He has an excellent singing voice and won a scholarship to a choir school. But unfortunately he doesn’t much like singing.

Despite the family’s extreme poverty, they have a ‘daily’ called Mrs Gage who does the cleaning and cooking, and generally looks after them. And they have a dog, Esau, who is a very attractive dog. One of the early chapters has the family posing him for a photo, so they can enter him in a dog competition.

This book apparently started life as a series of radio broadcasts, with each episode more-or-less complete in itself. I don’t think it makes much difference; it flows well, and while the book is a series of incidents rather than having an overall plot or aim, there’s plenty of character progression. In the course of this book - which covers more than a year - there are many events. One of the earlier ones is a birthday party for Angus, arranged by his wealthy uncle and aunt who look down on them. Alex’s parents are there too; they love the children, but refused to accept Alex’s calling to the ministry, so they won’t give him any financial support. 

During the course of the book, Angus discovers something he really wants to do, and Ginny gets in trouble more than once, though she is not deliberately naughty. Jane dances in a special show and is given a surprise… something done so well that I found myself tearing up a little. And Paul has to make a very difficult decision about his future. I very much liked the way that was handled, including the conversation that leads to his eventual final decision. 

Ten years ago I thought this book well written but didn’t count it as one of my favourites. Possibly this is because I read it shortly after reading some of the author's autobiographical works. I could tell that much of the story came from her personal experience.  But re-reading in the past few days, I thoroughly enjoyed the book and am already looking forward to reading it again in another decade or so. 

The first time I read this book, I learned that it has a sequel, originally called ‘New Town’, and reprinted at some point as ‘New Shoes’.  I looked for it after reading ‘The Bell Family’, but to no avail. I really hoped it would be reprinted at some point, but ten years later that hasn’t happened. Unfortunately it’s quite rare and very expensive. So I won’t be getting that any time soon. 

‘The Bell Family’, however, is much more widely available, from Amazon and elsewhere. It’s even been published for the Kindle. 

Recommended to older children or teens who like this kind of book, or to adults like me who grew up with Noel Streatfeild and re-read her books regularly.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews