Mr Planemaker's Flying Machine (by Sheilagh Watkins)

(Amazon UK link)

I had not heard of Sheilagh Watkins, though she's apparently quite a prolific writer. However her book ‘Mr Planemaker’s Flying Machine’ was available free for the Kindle in 2011, and the title intrigued me. So I downloaded it. It sat on my Kindle for twelve years, unread, until I picked the title at random from my lengthy list of unread books, and read it on a recent flight. 

I probably shouldn’t have bothered. Or at least, I should have checked the blurb. It’s not biographical or historical although I thought perhaps it might be. And it’s really a children’s book although the first part of the story is about a man - Mr Planemaker - who is only in his forties but has retired from work as he has a heart problem. He keeps having dreams about a mansion being built for him by people with names that are puns.

Then he decides that he wants to build a large model plane, and starts doing a lot of research, noting down lots of details on his son’s computer.  But in between there’s a surreal scene involving a computer repair place that insists the computer was custom designed for Mr Planemaker. There’s a lot of discussion about how to get online and to find files and folders on a computer, all of which seems extremely dated now - but even given that it was accurate fifteen years or so ago, it’s far too detailed to be of much interest.

Mr Planemaker is a quirky, quite likeable kind of person. But I could see that something was being obviously foreshadowed - and it happens.  It would have devastated a normal family, but that isn't explored at all. There’s no mention of any emotion. And there’s my biggest problem with the book - most of the characters are so flat that I couldn’t bring myself to care in the slightest what happened to any of them. There are hints of some significant themes, and yet no resolution. 

The second part of the book is about Mr Planemaker’s children, Dell and Emmilisa, and - to some degree - their cat Cosmos, who appeared in the car when Dell’s computer was fixed. Cosmos apparently has some unusual power over the computer and can cause an ‘assistant’ - who seems to be a real person inside the screen - to appear, and even to take them inside the computer to start following a trail…

I think it could have been quite an interesting story if it had been more coherent and consistent, and if the Planemaker family had been more three-dimensional. I don’t have a problem with surreal fantasy as part of a book, but it is all quite random, and doesn’t seem to have any real purpose. Emmilisa has a problem with bullies at school, but that isn’t resolved at all, other than a vague notion that she’s going to be more confident and self-reliant. 

The puns in the names of the odd characters who appear are quite clever, though they’re explained rather too much, and it really wasn’t necessary for the reader to be told three times that however long the children spent inside the computer, it would be no time at all in the real world.

I kept reading, wondering if it would get better, and how it would end. It was light enough that it was easy to read on a flight when I was tired, but it really wasn’t a satisfying story. I wouldn’t recommend it to children; even if the technology were updated, it’s far too long-winded and could have benefited from significant editing.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Bride Leads the Chalet School (by Elinor M Brent-Dyer)

(Amazon UK link)

Slowly re-reading my way through the lengthy Chalet School series by Elinor M Brent-Dyer, I reached the one which was 27th in the original series, 31st  by the time they were published in Armada paperbacks. ‘Bride Leads the Chalet School’ returns us to the main Chalet School in the UK, after a temporary diversion to Switzerland to see the new finishing branch in ‘The Chalet School in the Oberland’. 

The last time I re-read ‘Bride…’ was in 2012, so it’s not surprising that I had no memory of the story. I assumed that Bride Bettany would be promoted to Head Girl, which is correct, after the sudden and surprising departure of Bride’s friend Loveday, the previous Head Girl. Bride isn’t too keen on the extra responsibility, but realises that she is the obvious choice.

There are a lot of new girls, far more than would be normal in the spring term. But another school has closed, and since there’s plenty of room the Chalet School has taken on about thirty or forty new girls. And we quickly learn that their former school wasn’t just lax in discipline, it didn’t believe in any kinds of rules or structures at all. Even lessons were optional, meaning that most of the girls are well below their expected academic level by age. 

In addition, the Chalet School encourages girls to do some of their own chores - bed making, and clearing tables, for instance - and frowns on any kind of snobbishness. Some of the new girls take a long time to adjust, particularly Diana, a beautiful but not very bright girl whose father is a self-made millionaire. She had a lot of influence at her former school and doesn’t find it hard to attract a few of the weaker characters in the Chalet School…

It’s not really a new plot idea. The same kind of thing happened in one of the earlier books, when another school closed (‘The New Chalet School’), and there were similar issues in ‘The Chalet School and the Oberland’, when Chalet Girls and others combined to create the finishing branch. However it’s well handled, with a huge shock for Bride along the way.  

A more poignant subplot involves Julie Lucy getting nasty stomach pains, ending up with an emergency operation. The author was perhaps trying to make the point that sharp pains should not be ignored. She also used the opportunity to talk about the importance of prayer, and we see Tom Gay making the first shaky steps in her new career.

There’s a sale at the end of term, with a new theme. It’s based on a book I knew nothing about, but explained clearly and although there’s more detail than I feel necessary, there’s enough human interest that I did read that chapter rather than skimming it rapidly.

Overall I thought this a good read; not one that stands out, but not entirely run-of-the-mill. Best read as part of the series, or at least after a few of the earlier ones as so many characters recur. I’m pleased to know that there were no cuts made in the Armada edition of ‘Bride leads the Chalet School’, so I have no reason to try to find a hardback or Girls Gone by edition.

Recommended to anyone who likes these books. Unfortunately not currently in print, and very expensive second-hand online. But the paperback Armada versions can sometimes be found in charity shops. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

In His Image (by Paul Brand with Philip Yancey)

(Amazon UK link)

I very much liked re-reading the book ‘Fearfully and Wonderfully Made’ by Dr Paul Brand (in conjunction with Philip Yancey) about three months ago. So I decided to re-read the sequel, ‘In His Image’. I have both these in a compilation volume called ‘In the Likeness of God’, which I read at one sitting just over 17 years ago.  I recalled that both books were well-written and extremely interesting, but not much more.

‘In his image’ delves more deeply into the concept that we were made in God’s image, and that our individual bodies have counterparts - metaphorically speaking, for the most part - in the worldwide and local church. It’s no accident that the church is known as the ‘Body of Christ’. We are God’s agents in the world, and if we are to function as intended, we need to be linked to each other as well as directly to God.

That’s about as far as it goes in general understanding; Paul Brand takes the metaphor to its extremes, and in doing so manages to be both educational and inspiring. ‘Fearfully and Wonderfully Made’ looks at the way we’re made and how our different systems work together. ‘In His Image’ is more about communication. 

So the first section looks at what we mean by ‘likeness’. Using anecdotes as well as medical language, Brand explores  how ‘likeness’ can be passed from person to person, not just via genetics but sometimes by manners of speech or quirks of language. It also discusses some of the incredible surgeries that can be done to aid victims of serious burns or illnesses that can ravage skin, particularly faces. 

The second section is about blood. There’s a lot of detail, some of which I found too technical, about how blood cells and plasma function. But I was very struck by some of the analogies drawn by the author. He looks at blood as power, as the life force; he demonstrates what is meant in the Bible by blood ‘cleansing’ us: a strange phrase at first glance. 

Then the author looks at the head, and in particular the brain, and what is meant by spirit. Finally he gets back to one of his favourite topics: that of pain. He acknowledges that some chronic pain does not seem to provide any useful function, while repeating how important most pain is, in alerting us to problems. Dr Brand worked for many years with leprosy patients who had lost all sensation of pain; this would lead to them exerting too much pressure on limbs, or being unaware of dangerous nails on the ground, or even rats biting. So he knew from many experiences how important it is that our bodies are tuned to be aware of potential damage. 

I found the book very interesting, but not as mind blowing as I did the first time. I’m not sure why. Perhaps I had subconsciously recalled some of it; perhaps it was assimilated in my mind, so that instead of being incredible revelations, it was reminders of the analogies and metaphors. And some of the medical descriptions, particularly parts about animal experiments, made me feel rather squeamish. 

Still, I thought the book well worth re-reading, and would recommend it highly to anyone who would like to explore the idea of being made in God’s image, and what the implications are of the idea of the Body of Christ.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Horizontal Epistles of Andromeda Veal (by Adrian Plass)

(Amazon UK link)

I’m glad I decided to re-read my fictional books by Adrian Plass; I finished the wonderful ‘Sacred Diary of Adrian Plass aged 37 ¾’  about six weeks ago, and thoroughly enjoyed it all over again. In the last couple of days I’ve re-read the sequel, ‘The Horizontal Epistles of Andromeda Veal’, which I last read in 2017.

I knew the story, such as it is, of course. Andromeda, a small and determined girl is in hospital with her leg in traction, after breaking her femur. She writes a letter to the fictional Adrian’s wife Anne, asking if she can write to her. Andromeda’s father left them after some arguments, and her mother has gone with a friend to Greenham Common, to protest against cruise missiles. This was a significant issue in the 1980s when this book was published, but I think even those who don’t recall the crisis would get the point. Andromeda’s mother is so caught up in political fighting and trying to save the world that she doesn’t have time for her lonely daughter.

Anne is very touched, and sends Andromeda several addresses, as well as some envelopes and stamps. Despite being flat on her back Andromeda manages to write a lot of letters to different people in the church, and some famous people too. In the introduction, Adrian says he gathered together all the letters which Andromeda had kept, and also as many of her originals as he could find from amongst the recipients. 

I wasn’t all that keen on this book when I first read it, feeling that it didn’t begin to compare with the first ‘Sacred Diary’ book. And certainly it isn’t as funny; there’s a deeply poignant thread in Andromeda’s loneliness, despite the attempts by her mother’s friend Glenda to indoctrinate her into militant feminism. Andromeda longs for affection, and would really like a doll… 

However there are some very amusing sections, partly in Andromeda’s frequent misuse of words and phrases, and partly in snippets of Adrian’s ‘diary’ which are sent to her.  I think her spelling is exaggeratedly bad for a child of eight, and some of her malapropisms unlikely for an intelligent girl (would she really think a celibate monk was a ‘halibut nunk’?  Would she continue to misspell people’s names even when they write to her…?  It’s done for the sake of humour, but although the vocabulary is good, the spelling reminded me of that of a five-year-old.  

It’s a minor niggle; I had to slow down to read Andromeda’s letters, and that was not a bad thing. Some of her misunderstandings or mistakes made me smile. And on the whole I liked reading this - it’s not a long book, less than 200 pages, with some of it in quite large print. 

There are low-key Christian points made about God’s love and forgiveness; Andromeda herself, in her innocence, points a finger at some of the reasons that churches split or don’t recognise each other. The writers of the letters are friends of Adrian’s and Anne’s in their church so it’s hardly surprising. There are also some slightly risque references here and there which Andromeda is clearly entirely unaware of. 

I didn’t have a problem with understanding who the famous people were - politicians or church leaders, mainly - but those who weren’t adults in the UK in the 1980s might struggle to understand some of the references. With that proviso, I would recommend this highly - but do read the first ‘Sacred Diary’ book first, to understand who the characters are.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Raising Steam (by Terry Pratchett)

(Amazon UK link)

I have been re-reading the entire Discworld series, written by the brilliant Sir Terry Pratchett, over the past few years, at a rate of about one per month. I have just finished the fortieth book in the series, ‘Raising Steam’, which was published in 2014. I was given a copy for Christmas that year, and read it in April 2015. I remembered that it involved the Discworld invention and adoption of a railway, but nothing else. 

It opens with a general explanation about people becoming more impatient, and wishing that products from the other side of the Disc might be fresher. And then we’re taken to the home of Dick Simnel, whose father managed to explode himself when Dick was ten. His father was an engineer, experimenting with steam, recognising its potential but not entirely harnessing it. Dick is more meticulous as he grows up, and studies his father’s research as well as trigonometry and the use of the ‘sliding rule’. 

Eventually the first Discworld train, ‘Iron Girder’, is unveiled. Lord Vetinari sees the potential, as does the self-made millionaire Harry King. Harry agrees to fund further research and development, and Vetinari appoints Moist von Lipwig as overseer and negotiator. Moist is already the manager of the Post Office, and the Bank and Treasury; he’s a visionary, excellent at persuading people to do whatever is necessary to achieve a goal. 

At the same time there’s an undercurrent of insurrection, as some of the dwarfs start objecting to the democratic way that people in Ankh Morpork are all considered equal. Despite having come to an agreement to live side-by-side with trolls, some of the ‘grags’ want to remain traditional in their habits. And they take this to a fundamentalist, sometimes violent degree. One of them wants to depose the ‘Low King’ of the dwarfs, who they believe is too liberal.

I also appreciated the many goblins who appear in this book: in the last couple, they were acknowledged as sentient beings and given the same rights as other races. Goblins were excellent at running the ‘clacks’, and it turns out that they have a gift for working in the railways, too. I very much liked the way that quite a few goblins in this book are working in different capacities, treated much better than in the past, and given names. 

I had assumed that this was the last of the Discworld books; when it was being written, Terry Pratchett was already showing signs of illness, and forty seemed like a good round number. However there is one more Discworld book, published posthumously, which I'm already looking forward to reading in another month or two. 

'Raising Steam' includes several of my favourite characters from the series: not just Moist von Lipwig and Lord Vetinari, but Sam Vimes and some of the Watch. The book encompasses many areas of the Disc as a brave venture begins, to run a train all the way to Uberwald. This has to be done even though tracks haven’t been laid all the way, and there are some dangerous areas to pass through...

As with all Pratchett’s writing, there are references to the ‘real’ world, and other random allusions, some of which I probably missed. But I was amused by the many synonyms for ‘moist’ used by one of the goblins, and also by some pointed references to the classic children’s novel ‘The Railway Children’. Some have said that this doesn’t read like classic Pratchett, possibly because he was no longer able to type, and had to rely on dictation for most of this novel. But I didn’t have any problem with it, and thought it made an excellent read.  

It could stand alone, as most Discworld books do, but it’s much more enjoyable for having read the previous books, particularly those involving the Watch and Moist von Lipwig. There are references to events in previous books which would make little sense to someone who had not read any of them.

Definitely recommended if you like the Discworld series and have not yet read this one.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

Gemma and Sisters (by Noel Streatfeild)

(Amazon UK link)

Rereading my Noel Streatfeild books is always a joy, and my favourites of all are those in the ‘Gemma’ series. They feature the Robinson family and their cousin Gemma, who was a child film star but is now ‘resting’ while her mother works in the United States. I re-read the first book in the series, ‘Gemma’, at the end of January and have just finished the second book, ‘Gemma and Sisters’, which I last read in 2015.

The title refers to the talented group who have performed at a concert: the oldest Robinson, Ann, is an excellent singer, although she’s rather shy. The middle child, Lydia, is a very promising ballet dancer, who is far from shy, and not averse to a bit of deception. The youngest, a boy known as Robin, is a pianist and chorister who loves nothing more than to ‘swirl’ well-known tunes in a new arrangement.

Along with Gemma, who produces them as well as playing her banjo and singing, and Robin’s friend Nigs, who is a drummer, they delight their audiences with their diverse talents. This book sees the group becoming popular locally, attracting interest and more invitations. Alongside that are several subplots. 

Lydia’s ballet teacher doesn’t like her students performing in public, but when she makes concessions to her other students, Lydia is so angry that she does something stupid with potentially tragic consequences. Ann is quite academic and very conscientious, and isn’t too sure how much she wants to continue singing with Gemma and Sisters.  And Gemma herself is asked to take on a significant role in a historical play being produced at her school. 

It’s not a long book, and once I had got into it, it was hard to put down. The characters, if a tad caricatured at times, are still three-dimensional and believable. Noel Streatfeild wrote very well about highly talented children, particularly ballet dancers, but this story focuses more on the Robinsons’ life as a family. They are quite close, and I found several of the scenes very moving.  

This series was first published in 1968, so inevitably it feels a bit dated in places. The Robinsons’ delight at being given a car might surprise today’s children, who take cars for granted. There obviously a complete lack of any modern technology, but it doesn’t much matter.  The book gives a broad picture of life as it was in the 1960s, and while nuclear families are less common today, the people and their motivations and actions are recognisable as normal, likeable but flawed humans.

I enjoyed rereading this very much, having forgotten much of the detail; I wasn’t even worried by the odd chronology error, in that Christmas is celebrated - almost in passing - and then the action moves backward, to a month or two before Christmas. I didn’t even notice it as a child. 

The book might be too slow for some of today’s children, but for those who like a good, family-based story, I would recommend this highly. It was intended for children aged about eight to twelve (which is roughly the ages of the Robinson family in the first book) and would make a good read-aloud for children of almost any age, so long as they like books with only a few line drawings rather than full illustrations.

I’m glad that these books are regularly reprinted, and also widely available second-hand in a variety of editions.

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Holiday (by Erica James)

(Amazon UK link)

In re-reading my books by Erica James, I reached the one which I knew was my least favourite of all. When I first read ‘The Holiday’, in 2001, I thought it shallow and predictable. When I re-read it in 2017 I liked it better, but I had entirely forgotten the storyline. So I decided to read it again.

It’s quite a long book - over 500 pages - but I found it very readable. The opening chapters introduce quite a cast of characters, but Erica James is good at characterisation, and they were - mostly - easily distinguishable. Max and Laura are a likeable couple in their forties, who own a holiday home in Corfu. They are there for the summer, and have invited their younger friend Izzy who has just suffered a painful breakup with her boyfriend. 

In Corfu, next door, lives Theo, a wealthy Corfiot businessman who has had a series of casual relationships. He tries to flirt with Laura, but she’s in love with her husband and treats Theo as a friend. However, she wonders if he and Izzy might like a holiday fling, to help her get over her ex. 

Theo has invited his friend Mark, who is a writer, to stay. Mark has quite an unpleasant past, including being an alcoholic and hard drug user, although he is now clean and intends to remain that way. Mark’s story is gradually uncovered through the book, partly through flashbacks as he recalls sessions with his therapist, and partly through discussion with those around him. He’s a very private person, prone to moods. 

The final two significant characters are Max and Laura’s daughter Francesca, who is about eighteen or nineteen, and her friend Sally, who are coming to stay. Sally, we quickly learn, is something of a nymphomaniac who even tried to attract Max, before knowing who he was. 

There are others: locals who help with cleaning, or run shops or bars, and a couple of rather brash holiday-makers who behave quite badly; they felt like caricatures to me, but that’s fine with minor characters. It’s easier to recall them if they are exaggerated, and the author cleverly uses nicknames for them as it would have been easy to forget their real names.

Mark not only has a very unpleasant past, and some unhappy memories from childhood, he’s currently being stalked by an apparent madman who is writing anonymous notes, following the pattern of one of Mark’s books. And Mark’s books are dark, crime thrillers. He hopes that by coming to Corfu for a while he will be safe. 

All of which sounds like quite an interesting background to several subplots. But, other than the last (which only really rears its head towards the end), and one involving a dramatic sea rescue just averting a tragedy, much of the book is quite trite. It takes place over just a few weeks, and there seems to be a huge amount of sexual activity, much of it quite casual, with a lot of discussion about past partners. There’s a lot of drinking, too.

There’s some sight-seeing, and it’s fairly clear from the descriptions that the author is familiar with Corfu. I live on another Mediterranean island, and the Greek cultural references feel authentic. I wasn’t particularly interested in details of walks or ancient monuments and tended to skip those, but they seemed to be well written.

I was disappointed when I first read this book, since the earlier books by Erica James had revolved around small village communities; this book has a broader scope, and feels sleazier. She doesn’t go into too much detail of intimate encounters, but even the more general comments seem exaggerated. And while I liked Max and Laura very much, I found Theo self-centred and rather annoying, and Mark a deeply disturbing person, even though he is a kind person underneath. 

It’s telling that even though I last read this less than seven years ago, I had no memory of the people or the storyline, including two dramatic, potentially tragic scenes that happen later in the book.  I could not recall what happened or who was involved in the stalking of Mark and was not expecting the ending at all. 

I think this book might make good holiday reading, but it’s not one of Erica James’ best and would not make a good introduction to her writing. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

They found him dead (by Georgette Heyer)

(Amazon UK link)

I’ve decided to finish re-reading Georgette Heyer’s crime fiction novels in chronological order. I picked up ‘The Found him Dead’ a couple of days ago, and found it quite compulsive. I last read it in 2011 and had entirely forgotten the story. Heyer’s characterisation is always excellent, with just a hint of caricature to make people all the more memorable. These books were written as contemporary novels in the 1930s, somewhat in the style of Agatha Christie’s ‘cosy crime’ fiction. 

The book opens with a dinner party to celebrate Silas Kane’s 60th birthday party. Sixty is not old, or even elderly, but he has apparently had some problems with his heart. His mother Emily is 80, and she’s quite frail although very strong-willed and mentally acute. Silas has a nephew, Clement, whom he doesn’t much like; Clement is married to the over-dramatic self-centred Rosemary.  

Silas also has a great-nephew, Jim, whom he likes very much, and Jim has a half-brother, fourteen-year-old Timothy. Invited to the party are Silas’s business partner Joe Mansell, as well as Joe’s wife, and their daughter Betty with her husband. And the whole is observed, initially, by Emily’s companion Patricia Allison.  From Patricia’s inclusion in the dinner party it’s clear that she’s a close family friend rather than a servant.

I found the number of people a bit overwhelming at first and had to backtrack over the first chapter to write down their names, and who was related to whom. But it’s a testament to Heyer’s writing that by the end of the book I could recall (and distinguish) them all. Right at the start, there are clearly undercurrents and tensions, but nobody expects that, the following morning, someone will be found dead. 

Everything points to an accident, until, just a few days later, someone else is killed: this time it’s obvious what happened, as there’s a loud noise, and then the character is found slumped over, with a bullet hole in his head. The local police are stumped, after interviewing everybody concerned - including a few extra characters who are in or around the house at the time - so Scotland Yard is called in. 

Inspector Hannasyde and Sergeant Hemingway are an excellent pair of sleuths, introduced first in ‘Death in the Stocks’, which I re-read in July 2022, and then used again in ‘Behold, Here’s Poison’, which I re-read in October 2022. Hannasyde is highly intelligent and resourceful, with a sense of humour. Hemingway is more gregarious. He’s meticulous in his research, but doesn’t always reach conclusions as rapidly as his boss. 

Just to make things even more stressful, a third character is apparently at risk… more than one person warns him that he’s likely to be the next victim, and a couple of ‘accidents’ look as though they were attempts to take him out too. I had guessed, about a third of the way through the book, who was the most likely perpetrator of the second death; I’m not sure if it’s ever established whether or not the same person was responsible for the first. 

The first time I read Heyer’s crime novels, I very much liked the way her characters are so three-dimensional and believable, even with those with some exaggerated traits. However I felt that her novels weren’t as cleverly plotted as those in similar vein by Agatha Christie, who always keeps me guessing right to the end. But re-reading this book, it occurred to me that perhaps it’s deliberate that the reader is pretty sure ‘who did it’ early in the book. Heyer was brilliant at writing in an ironic style, revealing so much by conversations and events that take her characters’ minds in different directions. 

I knew, of course, that it would all be sorted out in the end, but I still found the last few chapters quite stressful. I was certain I knew the perpetrator by that stage - it became increasingly obvious as events unfolded, but the people concerned were entirely unaware. Most of them, anyway. There are one or two extra cast members who arrive a bit later in the book, whom I appreciated very much. 

Alongside the tension there’s some low-key humour, much of it involving the teenage Timothy who loves gangster movies, and is thrilled to be in a house where so much criminal activity is happening. There’s even a low-key romance. The whole makes for a very enjoyable read.  Definitely recommended if you like this style of book. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews

The Citadel (by AJ Cronin)

(Amazon UK link)

I’m pretty sure I had heard of AJ Cronin, and his novel ‘The Citadel’, but it’s not one I had ever read. Nor would I have been likely to, until it was chosen for our local book group. We like to read books from a variety of cultures and historical periods, including some classics. I was able to order it inexpensively from a second-hand bookshop, and embarked on it with some trepidation, expecting that it might be rather dull.

I was, therefore, pleasantly surprised to find a very readable, interesting novel. While based on the author’s experience as a doctor in the UK in the 1920s, the characters and situations are fictional. But I found them entirely believable, quite shocking at times; this starts just a hundred years ago, well after the end of World War I. 

Andrew Manson is the hero of the book, and it’s told from his perspective. Newly qualified and full of idealism, he arrives at a small mining village in Wales where he is about to take up his first job. He is supposedly the assistant of an older doctor, but quickly discovers that Dr Page is a bed-bound invalid, unlikely to recover and unable to work. The house is run by his dour sister, who doles out meagre portions of food and appears to have no sense of humour.

Andrew gradually settles in, learning not just about the local illnesses and customs, but how to appease, pacify and earn the trust of people around him. They are suspicious of a stranger, particularly one with new ideas and suggestions. Andrew, in his turn, is shocked to realise that the doctors around him are still living in the past century as far as medical practice is concerned, so overworked that they have no chance to update their skills or read medical journals. 

It’s an interesting read, almost in the style of the various ‘vet’ and similar books that were popular several decades later. We follow Andrew on his rounds, see him gradually settling in, and root for him to make some friends and succeed in some cures. He falls in love, takes up other posts, observes medical malpractice, suffers bereavements, takes risks… it’s quite compelling reading at times. 

I didn’t like some of the events which happened, particularly towards the end; nor did I believe it was possible to recover so quickly from something shocking that I really didn’t see coming, shortly before the climax of the book. And while the characters were three-dimensional and realistic, I didn’t feel any empathy with any of them - there doesn’t seem to be much depth of characterisation. Andrew himself is rather naive and a bit annoying at times, particularly in his treatment of some of those closest to him. He is tempted by money and fame in a way that seems incompatible with his earlier idealism. 

Apparently this novel was very well received, and it’s likely that its contents helped in the establishment of the excellent National Health Service. So it has a very positive outcome. As a piece of social history it’s also revealing and useful, a stark reminder that whatever the current state and problems of the NHS in the UK, it’s still vastly superior to the old systems. 

Recommended. I understand that a TV series was made, based on this book (my edition shows a photo from it) and it's in print regularly as well as widely available second-hand. Make sure you buy the full edition rather than one that was edited for school use. 

Review copyright 2024 Sue's Book Reviews