A slip of the keyboard (by Terry Pratchett)

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I’ve been a low-key fan of Terry Pratchett for over twenty years now. After he died in 2015, as I awaited publication of his final novel, I discovered that there were a couple of books he had already published, which I had not previously come across. One was a collection of short fiction, and one a collection of non-fiction. I put them both on my wishlist, and was very pleased to be given them.

However, ‘A slip of the keyboard’ - the non-fiction collection - has sat on my to-read shelf for nearly a couple of years. I finally picked it up to read a few months ago and have dipped into it, off and on, particularly over the past few weeks when I was determined to finish it. The subtitle is, ‘Reflections on life, death and hats’, which was intriguing, but told me very little.

The book is in fact divided into three main sections, the longest of which is entitled, ‘A Scribbling Intruder’. This gives fascinating snippets into Pratchett’s life as a writer, including some ‘scribbling’ from his very early days. It’s not arranged in chronological order, which is a tad confusing; I have no idea how it was all organised. The pieces range from just a couple of pages through to quite long articles, and are collected from a wide variety of places - some are speeches he gave, some are introductions he wrote, some seem to be random jottings.

As a writer myself, albeit on a far lower scale, I found this section mostly quite interesting. I liked learning a bit more about Terry Pratchett too; he clearly felt that he’d led quite a charmed life, falling into literature and writing pretty easily, really. He writes with irony and low-key humour about - for instance - book tours, and the ways authors are treated; about science fiction; about fans, and much more. There was some repetition, which is a bit annoying, but since it’s reporting from different events, that’s not surprising.

The second section is even more random (at least, I couldn’t find any organisation) and is entitled ‘A Twit and a Dreamer’. Essentially this is more speeches and introductions that don’t bear any relation to writing or book tours. I thought some of these were interesting too, light-hearted and easy to read, although, again, there was quite a bit of overlap between some of them.

The final section, ‘Days of Rage’ is much heavier. Here the author writes openly and honestly about his diagnosis of Alzheimer’s Disease, and what it means. He talks about medication - and having to pay for it - and a great deal about his belief in ‘assisted dying’. As it happened he died naturally, rather than having to fly to Switzerland to choose the day, but he did a great deal of research into ways of ending his life, should it have reached the stage where he was no longer able to function as a rational human.

I found the last part rather morbid, and - again - repetitive. I found myself skimming quite a bit as the same ideas were repeated. Again it’s not a surprise - this collection reflects entire pieces Pratchett wrote for different occasions, and it’s inevitable that there will be overlap. As a book to dip into, that’s fine; reading from start to finish, it was, at times, a bit annoying.

Still, I’m glad I’ve read it. It gives quite a bit of insight into Terry Pratchett and his ideas, and it makes a good addition to our large collection of books.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Scandalous Risks (by Susan Howatch)

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Re-reading books by favourite authors, I decided it was time for another Susan Howatch. Since I have re-read the first three in the Starbridge series in the past year, I picked up the fourth one, Scandalous Risks. I didn’t remember enjoying it, particularly; but then I didn’t remember how good the previous one, ‘Ultimate Prizes’ was, despite an entirely unappealing narrator and main protagonist.

This novel continues the story of Neville Aysgarth, now Dean of Starbridge Cathedral. However it’s told through the eyes of Venetia Flaxton, a girl whom, in the previous novel, very much admired Aysgarth when she was a child of nine. The novel opens in the 1980s, when Venetia takes a wrong turning and finds herself in Starbridge, somewhere she had determined never to see again. She meets her ‘talisman’... and then the majority of the book is a lengthy flashback to 1963, when Venetia was in her late twenties.

Venetia is an interesting person, youngest in a long family, not convinced that her father cares for her at all. She’s highly intelligent but fought against going to Oxford, and indeed almost anything her parents suggested. But, deciding she must leave their orbit for a while, she goes to stay with her friend Primrose Aysgarth (daughter of the Dean) for a few days in Starbridge. There she meets the upright and theologically conservative Bishop, Charles Ashworth (who was the main protagonist in the first Starbridge book, ‘Glittering Images’) and his wife Lyle. She also becomes re-acquainted with the Dean, and realises that even though he’s twenty-five or more years older than she is, her feelings for him are much stronger than that of admiration or friendship…

In theory the book stands alone, but with so many people from previous books, a great deal would be missed if this was read without the benefit of knowing Charles and Lyle’s story from the first book, as well as that of Neville and his unlikely wife Dido. The writing, as with all Howatch’s novels, is excellent. The style is terse, without irrelevant details, and the conversations feel realistic. The depth of character is superb; Venetia is naive and yet knowledgeable, insecure and, in other ways, confident. Neville is still, in my view, a rather disagreeable and manipulative person, and somehow this is conveyed through Venetia’s words, even though she herself adores him.

The storyline, however, becomes more and more unpleasant, raunchy in its implications, although the author wisely keeps the smutty scenes to a minimum, and undescribed other than in passing. The focus of the plot keeps returning to the book ‘Honest to God’ by John Robinson, which in theological circles in the 1960s was apparently quite controversial. It attacked traditional views of God, and proposed a very different kind of morality. Bishop Charles spends much of the book dictating his refutation of the book, while Neville tries to convince himself and Venetia that it portrays reality.

There are psychological twists and turns, as ever in this author’s books, and some fascinating - and, at times, very disturbing - insights into the hierarchy and practice of the Church of England in the 1960s. I think I’m glad I read it again, as I plan to keep going with the series. At times, particularly towards the end, it was almost impossible to put down. I’d remembered the main storyline, but forgotten most of the details and the outcome. Yet I didn’t really enjoy it, and was pleased to get to the end.

Worth reading if you're a fan of the author, and reading the Starbridge books in sequence.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Soul Keeping (by John Ortberg)

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I have very much appreciated John Ortberg’s books over the years. He’s an American evangelical pastor, which could be off-putting to many; but he’s neither a fundamentalist, nor judgemental. He writes from a gentle, loving perspective focussing on people’s real needs and stresses. So whenever I discover that he’s written a new book, I put it on my wishlist. I was delighted to be given this one for my birthday a few months ago.

‘Soul Keeping’ (Ortberg has evidently given up on the long unwieldy titles of his earlier books!) is a book about the soul. Some might call it the ‘psyche’, but then that’s the Greek word for ‘soul’. Most of us are a little vague about what actually constitutes the soul, and I’m not sure I’m a great deal clearer even after reading the book. But although it's an overtly Christian book, it could be of interest to anyone who is willing to look beyond the material world.

The writing is clear, well-presented and structured in a way that each section builds on the one before. I read this over a couple of weeks, mostly covering just a chapter per day. The author gives some anecdotes from his own life as a father and pastor, and some relevant episodes in the lives of other people he’s known, in particular his friend Dallas Willard, as illustrations for what he is writing about.

The first section attempts to explain what the soul is, or at least how the author sees it, and certainly explains what it is not. It’s not our physical selves; it’s not our mind (by which he includes both thoughts and feelings) and it’s not our will. Instead, it’s something that makes us who we are; it encompasses our personalities, and is affected by the health of our bodies and minds, and the actions we choose with our wills. Ortberg gives plenty of Scriptural references to the soul, but I eventually realised it was never going to be clear to me. Perhaps it’s impossible to define the essence of who we are, in relation to God, and to other people.

The second, longest section of the book is divided into several chapters, each focussing on different qualities that the soul needs. A centre, for instance, a future, rest, freedom, gratitude, and more. By this stage I had a vague, fuzzy idea of the soul, and what the author said made a lot of sense. To be whole, authentic and integrated people, we need to be centred on God, aligning our wills with what we know to be right. We need to keep our bodies and minds healthy by eating the right foods and concentrating on the right things. When we do something we know to be wrong, we become fragmented: damaged in our souls.

The final part of the book looks at suffering, and the ‘dark night of the soul’ when we feel a long way away from God despite no known sins or unhealthy decisions. The author does not use cliches or false comfort; he acknowledges that this can happen, and that it’s not the fault of the person concerned. It’s not particularly reassuring, in that he gives no ways out other than time and a great deal of patience.

I don’t know that I found any great new insights into this book, but I found it encouraging and helpful in beginning to get a glimpse of what the soul might be. I was particularly challenged by the idea of ‘blessing’ (a jargon word, but there’s no real alternative) others in all we say and do, and that the opposite of blessing is cursing.

Definitely recommended if you’re interested in this topic.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Starting Over (by Robin Pilcher)

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In my ongoing re-reading of books by favourite authors, I came to this one by Robin Pilcher. Son of the women’s novelist Rosamunde Pilcher, he has clearly inherited some of her gift for characterisation. I was delighted to discover his first novel, written around the time his mother retired from writing, and collected his subsequent books avidly. He only wrote five in all, but I enjoyed them all.

It’s fifteen years since I first read ‘Starting Over’, a title which has been used by other authors: I have at least two other different books by this title. It’s a useful generic title for stories about ends and beginnings, and that’s what this novel is focussed on.

It’s a bit confusing at first, with rather a large cast of characters. We first meet Liz, who has worked on a farm all her life. We quickly learn that her husband left her six months before the story starts, and that she and her student son Alex are now living with Liz’s father. It’s a bit awkward, because her husband lives on the neighbouring farm, and the two have been combined since their marriage. Worse than that, both farms are struggling to make ends meet. An offer has been made to purchase most of the land to turn it into a prestigious golf course, but Liz really doesn’t want any more change in her life…

The first few chapters introduce us to Liz, Alex, and some of their local community, then there’s a slight jar as we switch focus to one of Alex’s university lecturers, who is living with a very pernickety landlady and keeps breaking her rules. Then suddenly we leap across the world to Australia, where we meet Roberta, a single woman in her late fifties who has been living with her elderly parents. The only, rather tentative connection is that she and her father love to play golf… although her father, at ninety, is becoming increasingly frail.

Inevitably the different storylines are woven together, and the story features several different subplots: primarily the fate of the farms, and the various relationships that develop. The writing is good, and the conversations believable. However, there are rather too many detailed descriptions of places for my tastes. I didn’t need to know the names of streets, and what exactly a character could see as they looked from a hotel window. I mostly skimmed these parts, but felt a little irritated at what felt like an attempt either to educate the reader, or to demonstrate the author’s research skills.

It’s not Rosamunde Pilcher, and I was aware several times of the author being male. The women in the book are very well-drawn; the author clearly likes women. Liz is strong, intelligent and knowledgeable about both farming and machinery. She’s a great role model. But at times she seems to respond to other people in what felt like a rather masculine way. There’s a tad more bad language than I’m comfortable with, although I was pleased that intimate scenes are non-existent, relying on hints and memories rather than any detail.

All in all, I liked this book very much, particularly the ending. After fifteen years I had entirely forgotten the plot - it’s not particularly memorable, as there are so many different storylines - and I look forward to reading it again in another ten or more years.

No longer in print in paperback, but available in Kindle form. Sometimes found second-hand, either on its own or in an omnibus edition with one of the author's other novels.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit (by PG Wodehouse)

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I have a large collection of PG Wodehouse books on my shelves. I was first introduced to this classic author by my father, when I was about twelve, and have collected new and second-hand editions ever since. Yet I don’t read them very often, and there are some which I don’t ever recall having read before.

One such volume is ‘Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit’. I have a paperback edition, and I have no idea where it came from. Probably a charity shop many years ago. The ‘Jeeves’ books are some of my favourites, so it was with great delight that I selected this for my bedtime reading for the past few days.

The story, as usual, involves a series of misunderstandings. The valet Jeeves is horrified to find that Bertie Wooster has grown a moustache, and makes his disapproval clear. Bertie, however, is determined to take a strong line. In some of the stories, Jeeves displays passive aggression, refusing to help his young master solve his unlikely problems, until the object of his dislike has been removed. But in this one, as the title suggests, Jeeves rises above such pettiness, and solves many potential problems.

Much of the action takes place at Brinkley Hall, the stately home belonging to Bertie’s favourite Aunt Dahlia and her somewhat pernickety husband Tom. Aunt Dahlia sends Bertie a telegram, requiring his presence to attempt to cheer up young Percy, who is in love with Florence, who is engaged to D’Arcy Cheesewright…

Yes, as ever with Wodehouse, there are many characters involved in a complex dance of relationship. Florence (step-daughter to Bertie’s least favourite aunt, Agatha) is convinced Bertie is in love with her. Percy has asked Bertie to lend him some money so that he can put on a play he has written, dramatising a novel published by Florence… oh, and there are two pearl necklaces involved, as well.

The humour is gentle satire rather than anything to make me laugh aloud. Literary references abound, and Bertie’s general ignorance would become irritating if it weren’t for his extreme generosity and kindness.

An enjoyable story which would make a good introduction to PG Wodehouse and the ‘Jeeves’ stories.

As well as being widely available second-hand in many editions, this is sometimes found as part of an 'omnibus' edition of Jeeves and Wooster books. It might also be found inexpensively or free as an ebook.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Freed to Serve (by Michael Green)

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‘Freed to Serve’ is one of many similar books dating from the 1980s which I found in our bookcase of Christian books. I’d heard of Michael Green, an Anglican minister, theologian and writer who is now in his eighties. The blurb on the back says that this book is a radical call to assess Christian ministry. I have no idea how we acquired it, nor whether I had previously read it.

While written primarily for clergy (particularly those in the Anglican church) and others in Christian leadership, it’s a very readable, clearly written and interesting book. Nearly 35 years ago, Michael Green was clearly a forward thinker, perceiving problems with the ‘one-man’ leadership style of many churches, even then, and assessing what he saw as the way forward, if the church was to survive into the 21st century.

The first few chapters of the book look at what the author perceives as guidelines related to Christian ministry from within the New Testament. He begins with some stark contrasts between the early church and that of the 1980s. Much of what he states is still relevant today. He continues by looking at the ministry of Jesus, which was primarily that of service, not authoritarianism, and then the importance of equipping all believers, not just a few, to exercise their gifts for the benefit of others.

In the later chapters of the book, Michael Green takes an honest look at some of the controversial issues which were dividing the church at the time. Apostolic succession is a peculiarly Anglo-Catholic one that seems almost irrelevant to me, but it was clearly a stumbling block at the time, between Anglicans and other Protestants. 

He looks, too, at the debate about women in ministry. At the time of publication, women in the Anglican church could do almost anything other than preach sermons, serve Communion, or be ordained. That has clearly moved forward in the past few decades; for any detractors, there are some excellent, Scriptural arguments in favour of women being treated no differently from men, as far as church leadership goes.

I have to admit I didn’t read every word of the book. In some places, what the author said was so close to what I saw as obvious, that I skimmed somewhat. Some paragraphs were so full of Scriptural references in parentheses that they were awkward to read through. Footnotes or after notes would have made it easier. 

But really, those are my only slight quibbles with the book. It’s inevitably somewhat dated, yet the author, ahead of his time, perceived the importance of television and video in outreach to the community, and even imagined something approaching Internet video calls, with a prediction that counselling would be able to happen via television and satellite.

This isn’t a light book, despite its readable style and short length; it’s under 150 pages. New believers might find it too critical, and those outside of Christian circles and faith would probably roll their eyes after a couple of pages. It’s written for those who believe, who see problems in the way church congregations are run, and who would like to see a vision for something different.

'Freed to Serve' is long out of print, but often available second-hand. And it's the kind of book that turns up randomly on people's Christian bookshelves, too...

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews

Laurie and Claire (by Kathleen Rowntree)

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Having decided to re-read books by some of my favourite authors, I wanted something that I was going to enjoy, to read at bedtimes. So I picked up ‘Laurie and Claire’ by Kathleen Rowntree, a book I remembered enjoying very much when I first read it just over sixteen years ago.

I vaguely remembered the start of the book. Two young children grow up in a musical community, almost as brother and sister. Their parents founded and run a huge house called Foscote, although it’s mainly Laurie’s mother whom the children turn to for support and understanding. Claire feels inferior, as she’s very unmusical, and her French mother (a well-known singer) rather despises her.

We see insights into the world of music conferences, and gradually realise that there’s plenty going on under the surface. I found it a bit sordid, though there aren’t too many details given. Claire realises, in her teens, that her love for Laurie is more than that for a friend or brother, but he doesn’t seem to respond to the overtures she makes; and she is not willing to risk their strong bond by saying anything direct.

The plot moves forwards to their adult lives, sometimes sharing a home, sometimes separately. The characters are well-drawn, and Kathleen Rowntree introduces some people who, back in 1995 when this was first published, would have raised quite a few eyebrows. Lydia, in particular, is a complex and controversial character who comes into Laurie and Claire’s lives and creates a great deal of anger and confusion.

I liked Laurie very much. He’s flamboyant and a little manipulative, needing to be in control of every situation; but he’s also gentle, empathic, and extremely generous. The reason why he doesn’t become more than close friends with Claire is not revealed until a good way through the book; I had remembered, but it didn’t matter that it came as no surprise.

However, I found myself liking Claire less and less. She’s highly intelligent, and does some important botanical research in her adult life. She flourishes in academic circles. But she’s quite cold emotionally, taking advantage of other people’s good nature, jumping into bed - often in adulterous liaisons - in what seems to be a totally cold-blooded way. Her first encounter of this type is sordid in the extreme, and the climax of the book, though understandable in some ways, and not out of character, is horrendous.

The book is character-driven, following Laurie and Claire through their lives, into their forties, and briefly, at the end, into their fifties. The writing is excellent; the fact that I responded so negatively to Claire suggests that the author created a very well-rounded and believable person. I found it quite difficult to put the book down, at times, even though there’s not a great deal of plot.

But although I’m glad I re-read it, I would no longer count it as one of my favourites.

No longer in print, but can often be found in charity shops.

Review copyright 2017 Sue's Book Reviews