“Until the lions have their own historians, the history of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.” Chinua Achebe (Author)
When I was gathering books for the Queen’s jubilee stall at our village book exchange, I could have stuck to the British Isles and its experience of life in the reign of Elizabeth II. However, I wanted to look at the jubilee from a global viewpoint and include the voices of all the Queen’s subjects. For me that includes voices from countries that were once part of our empire, some of whom are now under the Commonwealth banner. I think these other voices are important; those who are literally silenced, but also those who were ignored because were simply not the white, middle class, man that society is used to listening to. This book had a beautiful example of one such voice and I was reading it around jubilee time. Celestine Babbington is recorded for history in a silent form, photographed wearing clothes he didn’t choose and posing with a man whose relationship to him is very problematic. The man, Richard Babbington, is a wealthy explorer who has a love for Africa and a large mansion house in England and by 1907, Celestine is being kept in the attic of that house, only allowed out to work as a domestic slave.
Years later, a young girl called Lowra is suffering the same fate. Locked in the attic as punishment for any transgression since her fate was left in the hands of her resentful stepmother. After her mother died, Lowra’s dad remarried and from that day on her life was punctuated by spells of abuse. While locked in the attic she finds an unusual necklace with clawed hands, unlike anything she’s seen before. There’s also an old-fashioned porcelain doll and a sentence on the wall, written in an unfamiliar language. These are her only comfort, because she feels as if the person that owned them is still with her in some way. As an adult, her stepmother’s abuse still affects her and she’s conflicted when she inherits Babbington’s house. People seem to think she’s lucky and the town is proud of this intrepid explorer. Looking into the house’s history leads her to an exhibition of Babbington’s life, where she sees photographs of Babbington and a young black boy wearing an African wrap and what looks like her necklace, the one from the attic. However, the thing that keeps Lowra transfixed, is the young boy’s eyes. Lowra sees someone filled with sorrow, a fellow sufferer of the darkness inside that house. His name is Celestine Babbington. Lowra wants to find out more about this boy, how he came to be in England and what happened to him after Babbington’s death. She enlists the help of a history specialist called Monty, who has an interest in stories that have not been told, particularly those of empire. Together they start their search for the attic child.
I think anyone who talks about the glory of our empire should be encouraged to read this book. It’s fitting that the opening quote of the book is from the incredible author Chinua Achebe, because his novel Things Fall Apart is a perfect companion to this tale. This time the story is partially told by an innocent victim of our Victorian forays into Africa, a child called Dikembe, who is largely ignorant of the atrocities being carried out by the Belgian forces plundering the natural resources of his homeland. At the time of Dikembe’s childhood, his homeland was named the Belgian Congo, a large area of Africa now known as Zaire, then the Democratic Republic of Congo. Very few Europeans had reached this area of Africa, known for tropical diseases like sleeping sickness. King Leopold of Belgium had urged the Belgian Government to colonise the country, but when they stalled their efforts he decided to take charge himself. He took ownership of the country and named it the Congo Free State in 1885, using his private army the Force Publique to press gang Congolese men and boys to work for him in the production of rubber. No one knows the exact population of the country at this time, but due to exploitation and the exposure to new diseases it is estimated that up to ten million native people died during Leopold’s rule of the country. Dikembe is young enough to stay at home each day with his mother, but he envies his brothers who go off to work with their father every morning. His parents keep him ignorant of the way native workers were treated so it is an utter shock when his father is killed one day. Richard Babbington, based on a real man called Henry Morton Stanley, expresses an interest in Dikembe. He wants to take him back to England and turn him into a gentleman and his companion. Ridden with grief and terrified about what could happen to her youngest son, his mother agrees, knowing this may be the only way to keep him safe. Although his intentions seem pure, isn’t this just another form of colonisation? He then takes away Dikembe’s name, calling him Celestine Babbington.
I found both these children’s circumstances heartbreaking and realised that Lowra’s affinity with this boy is because she sees something in his photographs echoed in her own eyes. I thought the two character narrative worked really well here, but all of the characters are so well crafted that they pulled me into their stories and didn’t let go till the end. We’re with Lowra and Monty on their quest, finding out more about Dikembe’s story and we experience the effect these revelations have on all the characters. It’s moving to see Monty identifying with Dikembe and feeling emotional pain from the injustices he has gone through. Monty still experiences racism and oppression, just in different ways and Lowra can’t be part of that even though she has empathy for how Monty feels. They worked together well and slowly become close by being honest about their pasts and what effect their life experiences have had on them mentally. Lola Jaye has managed to engage the emotions, but also educate me at the same time, because I didn’t know much about the Belgian empire or King Leopold’s exploitation and murder of the Congolese population. However, it was those complex issues of identity and privilege that really came across to me, especially in the character of Richard Babbington. His arrogant assumption that he could give Dikembe a better life is privilege in action, as Dikembe soon finds out that he’s a womanising drunk and the companionship he spoke of only works one way. All he does bestow is money, for clothes and school, but what Dikembe craves is the warmth and love of his mother calling him a ‘good child’. The way this need for love and comfort was also exploited made me cry. I was desperately hoping that by the end, these terrible injustices didn’t stop him living his life to the full, including embracing happiness when the chance came his way. We see this play out for Lowra during the novel, can she ever accept that she is worthy of love? I wasn’t surprised to learn that Lola Jaye is a therapist, because she understands trauma and how it can manifest through several generations. The story doesn’t pull it’s punches so I felt angry and I felt sad, but somehow the author has managed to make the overall message one of hope. Hope in the resilience of the human spirit.
Lola Jayne’s latest novel is The Manual for Good Wives. It came out in 2025 is on my tbr for March.
Everything about Adeline Copplefield is a lie . . .
To the world Mrs Copplefield is the epitome of Victorian propriety: an exemplary society lady who writes a weekly column advising young ladies on how to be better wives.
Only Adeline has never been a good wife or mother; she has no claim to the Copplefield name, nor is she an English lady . . .
Now a black woman, born in Africa, who dared to pretend to be something she was not, is on trial in the English courts with all of London society baying for her blood. And she is ready to tell her story . . .
In simple terms, this fascinating book is a love story. Two people meet in unlikely circumstances and fall in love. However, it’s so much more than that, but that’s what happens when something as simple as love is an act of subversion or rebellion. When I last read a novel like this I was on my 18th Century literature module at university and I had the luck to be taught and supervised for my dissertation by Dr. Ian McCormick who was an 18th Century literature specialist and also taught our Gothic, Grotesque and Monstrous module. He wrote a book called Secret Sexualities, a collection of 17th and 18th Century writing that covered cultural constructions of eunuchs, hermaphrodites, cross dressing, mannish women, female husbands, trials for sodomy and other legal injustices. I was absolutely fascinated because it was an utterly different picture from the 18th Century literature I’d read before. To be honest that was mainly Jane Austen and from her writing you might think that a fellow’s main preoccupation was finding a suitable wife and all women were waiting for Mr Darcy to come along – although I’m a Captain Wentworth girl, all day long. What my tutor’s book did for me was the academic equivalent of Sarah Water’s transgressive novelisation of the 19th Century. Variations in sexual preference is nothing new and taking a marginalised group and placing them firmly within their historical context is what is going in with A.J. West’s novel. Thomas True is well-researched, beautifully characterised and fits perfectly into its time period rather like an 18th Century version of Tipping the Velvet.
The book that came most to mind, because of its bawdy humour and characterisation of a young innocent seduced into licentiousness on their adventures into the big city, was Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe. However, I also had Tom Jones in mind by Henry Fielding, a picaresque novel where our hero embarks on a journey and is lured into bawdy and roguish adventures. A picaresque novel is also critical of the society it represents, using satire to make its point usually in the favour of the lower classes. Here our hero is drawn into the ‘Molly’ culture, practiced at Mother Clap’s house and while considered corrupt by some, it turns out to be less judgemental and violent than both the religious and legal communities, both seemingly riddled with cruelty and corruption. In this case they employ a spy known by the mollies as the ‘Rat’, his purpose is to give up individual mollies to the justices who would have them hung. The hangings are a horribly public spectacle with the crowd baying for blood and the selling of candles or other mementoes by shop keepers. This is where the novel sits for me, yes it’s crime fiction, historical fiction and also a love story, but it’s the picaresque novel’s bawdy, episodic and satirical mix that grounds Thomas firmly in the tradition of 18th Century literature.
Thomas sets off for London to escape a miserable family life, where he’s clearly not the man his father would like him to be. On his journey he is accidentally parted from his coach and luggage, deciding to trust a huge bear of a man who offers him help. What he doesn’t know is that Gabriel is a Molly, one of a group of men who enjoy dressing in women’s clothes and have names for their alter egos. They also prefer the love of another man, something taboo and unnatural in contemporary society. The law would punish them by death. Thomas can’t possibly know how important this moment will be in his life, but it’s pivotal to his journey, his future and his heart. Far from the genteel worlds of Bridgerton and Jane Austen, the author creates a richly imaginative setting that brought all my senses to life – but not in a good way. London is grim, overcrowded and disgusting. One scene where a body needs to be extracted from a ditch full of sewage is revolting. The two rescuers slipping and sliding into faeces and almost losing the body to the depths. Even Mother Clap’s has a grotesque feel. These are not the preened and powdered men you might expect. Gabriel is huge, hairy and spends all day doing a heavy building job. The atmosphere is also dark and threatening, if the mollies are the light then their nemesis belongs in the shadows as do the curious urchins who are so ignored and forgotten they’ve literally become the darkness they inhabit in the menacing surroundings of Alsatia. The ever present fear of not knowing who the Rat is, make even the lighter scenes hum with tension. While the mollies are dancing, wearing their finery or even sneaking off to be ‘married’ – their euphemism for sex – no one knows if the Rat is among them, watching and biding his time.
How far would the Rat go to gain information or incriminate the mollies? I was intrigued as to what their motive was? Religion, fear, money or more personal motives? Whatever the Rat, or the justice’s motives they mete out terrible violence. As if the public hangings were not enough, the Rat is handy with a knife too. One molly has his tongue cut out and another is stabbed and left in sewage. Being pilloried turned out to be way more violent than being popped in the stocks for the afternoon and being pelted with rotten vegetables. This is all told in the same detail the author describes the London streets running with urine and smelling so bad it takes a few days to become immune to it. It brings a reality into sharp focus, this isn’t just our current climate of punching down against the poorest and most vulnerable or venting hate on social media. This is wanting someone dead for the perceived crime of who they love. Thomas is naive, clumsy, endearing and ripe for the picking. He guides us through most of this in wide eyed wonder at first, but we also have Gabriel’s take on events and he really is the opposite of Tom. He is older, has known who he is for a long time and battles with regret, grief and shame. Gabriel is haunted, emotionally and literally. His profession means he’s in an intensely masculine environment, working on completing St. Paul’s and the chandlers where Tom is learning a trade. He’s drawn to Tom’s naivety and excitement at the new life he’s found and his molly name – Verity True Tongue. They’re so different but have that chemistry. It’s undeniable, but only Gabriel who fully understands the price they may pay for choosing each other.
I was bowled over by the incredible detail in the setting but also the characters they meet. Every one of the mollies is different are so different from each other. Some are welcoming and nurturing, while others are cynical and suspicious. I have a hatred for people who want to control other’s behaviour through a moral or religious code. Thomas’s family believe they’re doing the right things to save their souls and to lie with a man is a sin against God. The justices are no better than- using the legal code to outlaw sodomy, but then resorting to punishments of horrific violence without irony. It’s inevitable that with such blood lust and religious fervour, we might have to say goodbye to some of the wonderful characters yet it is still devastating when it happens. This group of men, when in their safe environment, are full of joy, fun and laughter. When they are free to be themselves they create an incredible atmosphere. It’s a party I’d love to go to and I honestly can’t wait for it to become a film. The eventual ending might leave you needing a box of tissues, but the journey Thomas and A.J. West takes us on is glorious.
Meet the Author
A.J. West’s bestselling debut novel The Spirit Engineer won the Historical Writers’ Association Debut Crown Award, gaining international praise for its telling of a long-forgotten true story. His second novel, The Betrayal of Thomas True, is published July 2024.
An award winning BBC newsreader and reporter, he has written for national newspapers and regularly appears on network television discussing his writing and the historical context of contemporary events.
A passionate historical researcher, he writes at The London Library and museum archives around the world.
Since this week is Indie Bookshop week I thought I’d share a handful of my favourite bookshops that I’ve visited in the last year. I love all sorts of bookshops from little tiny local bookshops, to themed bookshops and second hand bookshops. There’s something a little bit special about all of these.
The News from Nowhere Bookshop has been a mainstay of Bold Street in Liverpool and was established in 1974 as a not-for-profit radical and community bookshop. So, there’s no boss and no owner. Everyone who works at the shop shares tasks, responsibilities and decision making. All profits stay in the business to cover stock buying and running costs and each worker is paid the same hourly rate.
Of course these principles also inform the stock choices and it is such an interesting and challenging place to buy books. I come out with things I never expected! Social justice weaves through everything they do so they focus on feminism, anti-racism, LGBT+, worker’s rights, disability rights, sustainability and environmental matters, anti-capitalism, animal rights and veganism. They also stock fiction and I’ve bought some incredible fiction there, as well as I Hate Maggie t-shirts for my father. Because there’s such an interesting range of books I can be lost in there for hours. It’s so important to support shops like this so I pop in whenever I’m in Liverpool and order for my stepdaughter from there, because she’s at university and lives round the corner.
Scarthin Books has been a mainstay of my life since I was about 10 years old. It’s based in Cromford, Derbyshire since 1974 and I used to spend weekends at a static caravan site nearby where my Aunty and uncle had a caravan for several years. I would take pocket money and buy a book, or a notebook for my own poetry. This is such a higgledy piggledy little place I find it a little harder to get around now but downstairs has new fiction as well as second hand finds, upstairs has beautifully themed rooms for art books, music and travel as well as lots of other specialist categories. It’s cafe is great too.
The Rabbit Hole is a brilliant local bookshop to me, in the market town of Brigg, near Scunthorpe. I found them through visiting the town for my Christmas Decorations a couple of years ago. They had a stall on the market and I realised they did adult fiction as well as children’s books. It’s a great place for children because there’s a huge selection but also a great play area,
If you make your way to the rear of the shop you’ll find fiction, including a great selection of indie special editions and signed copies. They pop any new editions on their Facebook page so you can reserve them and drop in to pick them up. They hold great author events too,
Barter Books in Alnwick is one of my favourite bookshops in the country. I’ve been visiting for over eighteen years and I never come out empty handed. Solely for second hand books, this old station house is huge and covers pretty much every subject you can think of. If we’ve popped up to Northumberland for the weekend, the day we pack up and go is my day at Barter Books. I drop off any books I’m selling then go have breakfast in the cafe. Then I pop back and find out how much I have to spend before browsing. Each section is clearly labelled and the whole place has so much character with all original features on display. There’s a wall mural of famous authors and a mini train set whizzing around above your head. In the paperback section there’s a cozy seating area with an open fire where I’ve met some of the loveliest people. Be warned, it’s very easy to lose hours in there.
I’ve always been unconsciously drawn to books set in Australia and New Zealand, perhaps because I have family in both countries and want to familiarise myself with their lives. My mum lived there as a ten pound Pom in the 1960’s, leaving Liverpool behind and living in hostels meat Sydney. My grandad loved it out there and would tell us about nature, mostly horrific stories of people having spider’s nest in their ears or brains. My brother-in-law went out to New Zealand to work as a tree surgeon on a huge farm. He met the love of his life out there, Jenny, and although Jan died a few years after my husband I’m still in touch with Jenny and my two nephews. I was also hugely influenced by mum who was an enormous fan of The Thorn Birds – although hated Rachel award as Meggie in the TV mini-series. I’ve always thought that people down under are resilient, rather sweary and very straightforward. They say what they think – something I admire even where I don’t agree. I love the diversity of the cities and fascinated by Aboriginal and Māori. Some of my choices were read on my post-colonial literature course at university, a module that I found so inspiring and forced me to read writers I’d never have picked up as a casual reader. Here are just a few of the books and authors that can take you on a trip round both countries.
Classics
When her wealthy family prepares to host a lavish summer party, the young, hitherto sheltered Laura Sheridan suddenly feels a kinship with the staff and the helpers hired to set up the venue for the festivities. As she learns of the death of one of their working-class neighbours, this burgeoning sense of class consciousness is heightened by a realization of her own mortality. Published in 1922, at the height of literary modernism, ‘The Garden Party’ is now considered one of the key texts of that movement. This volume, which also includes all of Katherine Mansfield’s other published short stories, is an invaluable resource for anyone wishing to discover one of the early twentieth century’s finest writers. I first read this collection at university and I still have it today because it stands up against any short story collection from that period.
Integrating both Maori myth and New Zealand reality, The Bone People became the most successful novel in New Zealand publishing history when it appeared in 1984. Set on the South Island beaches of New Zealand, a harsh environment, the novel chronicles the complicated relationships between three emotional outcasts of mixed European and Maori heritage. Kerewin Holmes is a painter and a loner, convinced that “to care for anything is to invite disaster.” Her isolation is disrupted one day when a six-year-old mute boy, Simon, breaks into her house. The sole survivor of a mysterious shipwreck, Simon has been adopted by a widower Maori factory worker, Joe Gillayley, who is both tender and horribly brutal toward the boy. Through shifting points of view, the novel reveals each character’s thoughts and feelings as they struggle with the desire to connect and the fear of attachment.
Compared to the works of James Joyce in its use of indigenous language and portrayal of consciousness, The Bone People captures the soul of New Zealand. After twenty years, it continues to astonish and enrich readers around the world.
Mythology and contemporary Māori life are woven together seamlessly in this spectacular collection by Aotearoa’s foremost short story writer.
The titular story ‘Bird Child’ plunges you deep into Te Kore, an ancient time before time. In another, the formidable goddess Mahuika, Keeper of Fire, becomes a doting mother and friend. Later, Grace’s own childhood vividly shapes the world of the young character Mereana; and a widower’s hilariously human struggle to parent his seven daughters is told with trademark wit and crackling dialogue.
Moving artfully across decades, landscapes, time and space, with tenderness and charm, Bird Child and Other Stories shows an author as adept and stimulating as ever. This isn’t an easy read but fascinating and the comparison between Māori and other creation myths from around the world was fascinating.
Contemporary Fiction
Cassy smiled, blew them a kiss.
‘See you in September,’ she said.
It was a throwaway line. Just words uttered casually by a young woman in a hurry. And then she’d gone.
It was supposed to be a short trip – a break in New Zealand before her best friend’s wedding. But when Cassy waved goodbye to her parents, they never dreamed that it would be years before they’d see her again. Having broken up with her boyfriend, Cassy accepts an invitation to stay in an idyllic farming collective. Overcome by the peace and beauty of the valley and swept up in the charisma of Justin, the community’s leader, Cassy becomes convinced that she has to stay.
As Cassy becomes more and more entrenched in the group’s rituals and beliefs, her frantic parents fight to bring her home – before Justin’s prophesied Last Day can come to pass. I love Charity Norman’s writing because she gets to the heart of family relationships and shows how families can fracture when placed under stress. I’d recommend any of her books but this one is set in New Zealand. I highly recommend Remember Me and Home Truths.
At a suburban barbecue one afternoon, a man slaps an unruly boy.
The boy is not his son.
It is a single act of violence, but the slap reverberates through the lives of everyone who witnesses it happen.
Christos Tsiolkas presents the impact of this apparently minor domestic incident through the eyes of eight of those who witness it. It’s honestly hard to find someone to like here, but it is a fascinating look at contemporary Aussie relationships. It’s an unflinching interrogation of the life of the modern family, a deeply thought-provoking novel about boundaries and their limits…
The Lambert sisters have secrets…
When 15-year-old Cathy Lambert runs away from her Dublin home, she is scared and pregnant. Settled in New Zealand with her new son Conor she believes the secret she carries will never be revealed…
Rebecca Lambert was eighteen when her parents died and she took responsibility for her younger sisters. Years later, she is haunted by fears she hoped she’d conquered.
Freed from family duties, mother of three Julie Chambers is determined to recapture the dreams of her youth.
Married to a possessive older man, Lauren Moran embarks on a frantic love affair that threatens to destabilise her fragile world.
Anxious to make peace with her three sisters, Cathy invites them to her wedding.
But as the women journey together through New Zealand towards their reunion, they are forced to confront the past as the secret shared histories of the Lambert sisters are revealed. I couldn’t put this book down as it’s a great mix of emotions, adventure, secrets and a lot of humour.
EVERY ENDING IS A NEW BEGINNING…
Ruth is ignoring the news. Like most people, she has relationship problems, job stress, friends and family who need her. Ruth has a life.
But the news is about to catch up with Ruth, and her problems are going to be swept away…along with the rest of the world. While on a plane to New Zealand, something starts to happen to the world. Arriving, Ruth makes her way to her coastal destination but never expected to be sharing the inside of a dead whale with a stranger as a world ending event happens. It takes this to change Ruth’s outlook completely. Only when the comforts and complications of her old existence are gone, does she finally realise how she might be able to live to the fullest. This was a mesmerising debut from Kate and I still recommend it constantly. It made me think about something drastic like this happening in my lifetime, but also question why we fall in love with the people we do and how commitments to others are nurtured and lad
Romantic Fiction
Love isn’t an exact science – but no one told Don Tillman.
A thirty-nine-year-old geneticist, Don’s never had a second date. So he devises the Wife Project, a scientific test to find the perfect partner. Don has a regimented life of work
Enter Rosie – ‘the world’s most incompatible woman’ – throwing Don’s safe, ordered life into chaos.
But what is this unsettling, alien emotion he’s feeling? . . .
This is a deeply funny, but emotional and fascinating in terms of Don’s neuro-divergence. He eats the same meal on the same night every week as part of his rotation of menus. His life felt like a never-ending to-do lust and I knew that he would drive me up the wall. Rosie is a woman of great patience! However, I also knew that my lack of systems and routine would have an equally detrimental effect on his mental health. Watching how these two people try, fail and try again to communicate their needs and feelings within the relationship is a lesson for every couple. It’s also brilliantly funny. There is a trilogy now so treat yourself to all of them.
In the rugged Australian Outback, three generations of Clearys live through joy and sadness, bitter defeat and magnificent triumph, driven by their dreams, sustained by remarkable strength of character… and torn by dark passions, violence and a scandalous family legacy of forbidden love.
The Thorn Birds is a poignant love story, a powerful epic of struggle and sacrifice, a celebration of individuality and spirit. Most of all, it is the story of the Clearys’ only daughter, Meggie, who can never possess Ralph de Bricassart, the man she so desperately adores. Ralph will rise from parish priest to the inner circles of the Vatican… but his passion for Meggie will follow him all the days of his life.
What a saga this is and I have to say the book is ten times better than the series, mainly because we get more of the family dynamic and get to know Meggie as a little girl. Her story of slowly growing up with such a harsh mother really builds and we understand more her bond to the young priest who befriends her, noticing that in a family of many sons she is largely ignored. He is her knight in shining armour and the only one, after her eldest brother is gone, who will hug and comfort this lonely girl. Catholic readers will recognise how powerful the religion is for Irish families and the schooling that nuns provide. The book is an epic and covers Father Ralph’s lifetime, but it has an incredible sense of place and time and really is worth a read for that alone.
n 1929, Beattie Blaxland had dreams. Big dreams. She dreamed of a life of fashion and fabrics. One thing she never dreamed was that she would find herself pregnant to her married lover, just before her nineteenth birthday.
In 2009, Emma Blaxland-Hunter was living her dream. A prima ballerina with the London Ballet, she had everything… Until the moment she lost it all.
Separated by decades, both women must find the strength to rebuild their lives. A legacy from one to the other will lead to Wildflower Hill, a place where a woman can learn to stand alone long enough to realise what she really wants.
I’d never read this author before so it came as a complete surprise when I enjoyed it so much. It is historical fiction too, but I loved that this was a ballsy woman who was determined to succeed at Wildflower Hill and her love story with an aboriginal worker would have been so transgressive at the time. It’s an unashamedly romantic story and if you enjoy love with a side order of feminism, family secrets and a dual-timeline this is for you.
Historical Fiction
A faded photograph. An abandoned house. A wartime mystery. . .
1939: On the eve of war, young English heiress Grace Grey travels from London to the wilderness of Tasmania. Coaxed out of her shell by the attentions of her Irish neighbour, Daniel – Grace finally learns to live. But when Australian forces are called to the frontline, and Daniel with them, he leaves behind a devastating secret which will forever bind them together.
1975: Artist Willow Hawkins, and her new husband, Ben, can’t believe their luck when an anonymous benefactor leaves them a house on the remote Tasmanian coast. Confused and delighted, they set out to unmask Towerhurst’s previous owner – unwittingly altering the course of their lives.
2004: Libby Andrews has always been sheltered from the truth behind her father Ben’s death. When she travels to London and discovers a faded photograph, a long-buried memory is unlocked, and she begins to follow an investigation that Ben could never complete. But will she realise that some secrets are best left buried . . .?
This gorgeous story that spans the twentieth century was one of my books of the year last year. The mystery of how all these timelines added up, the beautiful setting of Tasmania and the historical context around WW2 drew me in. The love story is simply gorgeous and potentially heart-breaking. I know this is a story I’ll want to read again.
1896, Bannin Bay, Australia. When British pearl-boat captain Charles Brightwell goes missing out at sea, rumours of mutiny and murder swell within the bay’s dens and back alleys. Only his headstrong daughter, Eliza, refuses to believe her father is dead, and sets out on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth.
But in a town teeming with corruption, prejudice, and blackmail, Eliza soon learns that the answers she seeks might cost more than pearls. How much is she willing to sacrifice to find them?
This incredible debut is richly atmospheric from the get go, throwing us straight into the strangeness of 19th Century Western Australia as if it is an alien landscape. In fact that’s exactly what it is for the Brightwell family, particularly Eliza whose childhood eyes we see it through for the the first time. The adult Eliza has to negotiate her way through the community’s corruption, violence, blackmail and the criminal elements of the pearling business. All the while reading her father’s diary for clues and guiding us to some fascinating characters, some of which are based on historical figures. You’ll love Eliza’s early feminist stance and sense of adventure. The twists and turns her journey takes are gripping and pull you deep into the story. It’s a fantastic debut, full of life and death, just like it’s setting.
Crime Fiction
A killer targeting pregnant women.
A detective expecting her first baby…
The shocking murder of a heavily pregnant woman throws the New Zealand city of Dunedin into a tailspin, and the devastating crime feels uncomfortably close to home for Detective Sam Shephard as she counts down the days to her own maternity leave.
Confined to a desk job in the department, Sam must find the missing link between this brutal crime and a string of cases involving mothers and children in the past. As the pieces start to come together and the realisation dawns that the killer’s actions are escalating, drastic measures must be taken to prevent more tragedy.
For Sam, the case becomes personal, when it becomes increasingly clear that no one is safe, and the clock is ticking…
There’s something about Aussie and NZ crime fiction. It’s gritty and immediate. This is the fifth in Vanda’s Sam Shepherd series and I can honestly say they’re all brilliant but this one …. I was on the edge of my seat! It feels like Sam has just let her guard down and accepted what’s next in her life, when everything could be ripped away from her. Even though she’s the one who most understood the killer’s motivations, will she still be shocked by their identity? Sam’s vulnerability is terrifying and I was praying that she would be okay, as if she’s a living and breathing human being. That’s the power of Vanda Symon’s writing and how much of that magic she’s poured into this brilliant character.
Lou O’Dowd travels across the world from Australia to Edinburgh for a job with the organisation SASOL. Her new life will be living with her cousin and working shifts at a halfway house for high risk offenders including two killers, a celebrity paedophile, and a paranoid coke dealer. After orientation, Lou will be on shift alone dealing with these offenders with little more than her own instinct to guide her. What could possibly go wrong?
Lou is a controversial character, living off a sugar daddy for a while she’s had no need to work, but when the relationship ends disastrously she has no choice but to leave. On her first day in Edinburgh she meets a man at a play who has a similar attitude to risk, enjoying mainly outdoor sex. He comes from a rich family, so maybe he could be more than a fling? I loved how the mundane domesticity of the job was mixed with genuine fear and horror of what could happen if residents flare up. There’s an evening ritual of cocoa for each resident, but it has to be to perfectly timed in order to interrupt one resident’s suicide ritual. These are the extremes a job like this entails, but it’s only the beginning….
Eugenics is described by National Human Genome Research Institute as
“an immoral and pseudoscientific theory that claims it is possible to perfect people and groups through genetics and the scientific laws of inheritance”.
It’s a word that’s been floating around social media for some time, mainly in connection to those behind the new US administration. There are concerns that people with physical disabilities, those of different ethnic origins and those with mental ill health or learning disabilities, might be considered less desirable in society. There are people with disabilities fighting against the introduction of assisted dying, because it could be interpreted to mean disabled lives have less value. We’ve all probably asked at one time or another, how could ordinary German citizens sleep walk into the Final Solution? The answer is slowly. There is evidence that children with disabilities were being removed and institutionalised as early as 1933. We like to think the Holocaust couldn’t happen again, but there is evidence of eugenic policies affecting the lives of ordinary Americans until the 1970s. Of course the Nazis are the ultimate and extreme example of eugenic policies being enacted, but both European countries and the US were using eugenicist policies on their own citizens across the 20th Century. This is what happens when we demonise the disabled, the poor and the destitute. The rise of the far right across the world is driven by eugenicist thinking, that some people are inherently better than others. This is why eugenicist policies affected those with learning difficulties, Native Americans, African Americans and people with long term disabilities. I try not to be political on the blog, but here I’m not advocating particular political parties. All I want to do is share novels that show how eugenics affected real communities and individuals.
From the outside, Eleanor and Edward Hamilton have the perfect life, but they’re harbouring a secret that threatens to fracture their entire world.
London, 1929. Eleanor Hamilton is a dutiful mother, a caring sister and an adoring wife to a celebrated war hero. Her husband, Edward, is a pioneer in the eugenics movement. The Hamiltons are on the social rise, and it looks as though their future is bright. When Mabel, their young daughter, begins to develop debilitating seizures, they have to face an uncomfortable truth: Mabel has epilepsy – one of the ‘undesirable’ conditions that Edward campaigns against. Forced to hide their daughter away so as to not jeopardise Edward’s life’s work, the couple must confront the truth of their past – and the secrets that have been buried. Will Eleanor and Edward be able to fight for their family? Or will the truth destroy them?
Many will have read this heart-rending novel or seen the film, beautifully performed by Andrew Garfield, Carey Mulligan and Keira Knightly. This perfectly encapsulates that head in the sand mindset humans are so good at. We can ignore terrible injustices when they’re not happening to us, or people like us. We can always think it doesn’t apply to us. Until it does. Kazuo Ishiguro imagines the lives of a group of students growing up in a darkly skewed version of contemporary England. Narrated by Kathy, now thirty-one, Never Let Me Go dramatises her attempts to come to terms with her childhood at the seemingly idyllic Hailsham School and with the fate that has always awaited her and her closest friends in the wider world. A story of love, friendship and memory, Never Let Me Go is charged throughout with a sense of the fragility of life and is utterly terrifying.
From the New York Times bestselling author of The Good House, the story of two friends, raised in the same orphanage, whose loyalty is put to the ultimate test when they meet years later at a controversial institution—one as an employee; the other, an inmate.
It’s 1927 and eighteen-year-old Mary Engle is hired to work as a secretary at a remote but scenic institution for mentally disabled women called the Nettleton State Village for Feebleminded Women of Childbearing Age. She’s immediately in awe of her employer—brilliant, genteel Dr. Agnes Vogel. Dr. Vogel had been the only woman in her class in medical school. As a young psychiatrist she was an outspoken crusader for women’s suffrage. Now, at age forty, Dr. Vogel runs one of the largest and most self-sufficient public asylums for women in the country. Mary deeply admires how dedicated the doctor is to the poor and vulnerable women under her care.
Soon after she’s hired, Mary learns that a girl from her childhood orphanage is one of the inmates. Mary remembers Lillian as a beautiful free spirit with a sometimes-tempestuous side. Could she be mentally disabled? When Lillian begs Mary to help her escape, alleging the asylum is not what it seems, Mary is faced with a terrible choice. Should she trust her troubled friend with whom she shares a dark childhood secret? Mary’s decision triggers a hair-raising sequence of events with life-altering consequences for all. Inspired by a true story about the author’s grandmother, The Foundling offers a rare look at a shocking chapter of American history. This gripping page-turner will have readers on the edge of their seats right up to the stunning last page…asking themselves, “Did this really happen here?”
Since the death of his fiancée Aimee, Ross Wakeman has been unable to fill the hole she has left in his life. Seeking to end his pain, he becomes a ghost hunter, despite never having seen a ghost.
However, when his job leads him to the town of Comtosook, it becomes apparent that Ross isn’t the only one haunted by the past. When he meets the mysterious Lia, who brings him to life for the first time in years, redemption seems around the corner. But the discoveries that await him are beyond anything he could dream of – in this world or the next. Second Glance takes a look at how American eugenicist policies affected the lives of Native Americans with a programme of sterilisation. It’s not her usual court based drama, but still has her themes of injustice, identity and a lesser known part of American history.
Montgomery, Alabama. 1973. Fresh out of nursing school, Civil Townsend has big plans to make a difference in her community. She wants to help women make their own choices for their lives and bodies.
But when her first week on the job takes her down a dusty country road to a tumbledown cabin and into the heart of the Williams family, Civil learns there is more to her new role than she bargained for. Neither of the two young sisters has even kissed a boy, but they are poor and Black, and for those handling their welfare benefits, that’s reason enough to have them on birth control. When Civil discovers a terrible injustice, she must choose between carrying out instructions or following her heart and decides to risk everything to stand up for what is right.
Inspired by true events and a shocking chapter of recent history, Take My Hand is a novel that will open your eyes and break your heart. An unforgettable story about love and courage, it is also a timely and uplifting reminder that one person can change the world.
1911: Inside an asylum at the edge of the Yorkshire moors, where men and women are kept apart by high walls and barred windows, there is a ballroom vast and beautiful. For one bright evening every week they come together and dance. When John and Ella meet it is a dance that will change two lives forever.
Set over the heatwave summer of 1911, the end of the Edwardian era, THE BALLROOM tells a rivetting tale of dangerous obsession, of madness and sanity, and of who gets to decide which is which. It is a love story like no other, showing how eugenics affected those deemed mentally ill.
In a sleepy German village, Allina Strauss’s life seems idyllic: she works at her uncle’s bookshop, makes strudel with her aunt, and spends weekends with her friends and fiancé. But it’s 1939, Adolf Hitler is Chancellor, and Allina’s family hides a terrifying secret—her birth mother was Jewish, making her a Mischling.
One fateful night after losing everyone she loves, Allina is forced into service as a nurse at a state-run baby factory called Hochland Home. There, she becomes both witness and participant to the horrors of Heinrich Himmler’s ruthless eugenics program.
The Sunflower House is a meticulously-researched debut historical novel from Adriana Allegri that uncovers the notorious Lebensborn Program of Nazi Germany. Women of “pure” blood stayed in Lebensborn homes for the sole purpose of perpetuating the Aryan population, giving birth to thousands of babies who were adopted out to “good” Nazi families. Allina must keep her Jewish identity a secret in order to survive, but when she discovers the neglect occurring within the home, she’s determined not only to save herself, but also the children in her care.
A tale of one woman’s determination to resist and survive, The Sunflower House is also a love story. When Allina meets Karl, a high-ranking SS officer with secrets of his own, the two must decide how much they are willing to share with each other—and how much they can stand to risk as they join forces to save as many children as they can. The threads of this poignant and heartrending novel weave a tale of loss and love, friendship and betrayal, and the secrets we bury in order to save ourselves.
In rural 1930s Virginia, a young immigrant mother fights for her dignity and those she loves against America’s rising eugenics movement – when widespread support for policies of prejudice drove imprisonment and forced sterilizations based on class, race, disability, education, and country of origin – in this tragic and uplifting novel of social injustice, survival, and hope.
When Lena Conti—a young, unwed mother—sees immigrant families being forcibly separated on Ellis Island, she vows not to let the officers take her two-year old daughter. But the inspection process is more rigorous than she imagined, and she is separated from her mother and teenage brother, who are labeled burdens to society, denied entry, and deported back to Germany. Now, alone but determined to give her daughter a better life after years of living in poverty and near starvation, she finds herself facing a future unlike anything she had envisioned.
Silas Wolfe, a widowed family relative, reluctantly brings Lena and her daughter to his weathered cabin in Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains to care for his home and children. Though the hills around Wolfe Hollow remind Lena of her homeland, she struggles to adjust. Worse, she is stunned to learn the children in her care have been taught to hide when the sheriff comes around. As Lena meets their neighbors, she realizes the community is vibrant and tight knit, but also senses growing unease. The State of Virginia is scheming to paint them as ignorant, immoral, and backwards so they can evict them from their land, seize children from parents, and deal with those possessing “inferior genes.”
After a social worker from the Eugenics Office accuses Lena of promiscuity and feeblemindedness, her own worst fears come true. Sent to the Virginia State Colony for the Feebleminded and Epileptics, Lena face impossible choices in hopes of reuniting with her daughter—and protecting the people, and the land, she has grown to love.
If you want to read more background on eugenics here are a few links:
This first of Louise Hare’s novels really stayed with me, it grabbed me early and never let go. When a writer whisks you so convincingly to another time and place it’s such an incredible skill. I found myself in post-Windrush London where new people are making the capital their home and the huge social change is causing friction. As one mixed race character observed ‘she was no longer the odd one out’ as she went to the market. More immigrants are arriving, wandering the streets, weighed down by layers thrown on haphazardly as the reality of a British winter starts to bite. However, as those first pioneers answered the call from the motherland, they’d found London not at all what they were expecting. The British government had put that call out to its colonies. They needed workers, to replace those men lost in WW2 and to rebuild cities recovering from the Blitz. Yet no one seemed grateful, no one said thank you and the living was far from easy.
We follow two main characters: Lawrie and Evie. They are courting in the old fashioned sense. Lawrie sees in Evie a nice girl, a girl who has been well brought up even though she has never known her father. He wants to do things properly, do right by her. So he calls and they go to the cinema or for a walk. Lawrie has come over from Jamaica and works part time as a musician in a local band and full time as a postman, with a sideline in the odd special black market delivery too. Evie has lived in London her whole life with her mother Agnes. They have been Lawrie’s neighbours ever since a rented room opened up at the house next door. The two women understand prejudice, because they too have been victims of it, and live a life kept very much to themselves. Evie is mixed race and Agnes, who is white, has been the subject of gossip and judgement ever since she Evie was born. So, although what transpires in the book may be shocking to us, it barely surprises them, because they know how people feel about any sort of difference from the white British norm.
The story splits into two time frames approximately one year apart. In one, Lawrie is cutting across Clapham Common at the end of his postal route when he hears a woman shouting. She has found a baby in the pond. Lawrie rushes to help, but they are both too late. The baby becomes the book’s central mystery and because she has black skin, suspicion falls upon the already beleaguered Jamaican community. Rathbone, is the police officer assigned to the case and he relishes causing problems for the community. His suspicions fall on Lawrie, as the first man on the scene, but Rathbone doesn’t just investigate, he sets out to ruin Lawrie’s life. However, there is a secret to this baby’s background that is closer to home than Lawrie imagines.
I found myself rooting for Lawrie and Evie. I wanted them to be able to make marriage plans and live the simple, quiet life they dreamed about. Her mother Agnes has had to be very strong, being an unmarried mother of a mixed race child meant being ostracised. Evie has a childhood memory of her mother having the neighbours for tea when, against her instructions, Evie was caught looking down through the banisters. They never had tea for the neighbours again. It takes Evie several years to make the link; she is the reason her mum has no friends or visitors. This same hostility is now experienced by the men who arrived on the Windrush and it must have been bewildering. To be asked to this country, to fill a shortage of labour and pull a country out of difficulty, then meet nothing but hostility and suspicion from its people seems so unjust.
A lot of the tension in the novel is around sex and relationships. When the band are booked to play a wedding, the British host is immediately taken aback but decides they can play. All is well until a woman stumbles on the dance floor and one of the band rushes to help. Her husband doesn’t appreciate his wife being touched by a black man and a brawl breaks out causing the band to run for their lives. Provocative women, like the character Rose, stir up tension even more. The men refer to her as Rita Hayworth, the red-haired Hollywood bombshell. When the men first arrive she helps with getting them settled. Then she offers to take Lawrie and his friend to the Lido, dazzling them in her bikini and flirting with Lawrie. She makes it very clear that she wants him with no thought to the consequences if her husband finds out. Interracial relationships are simply not accepted. As Agnes points out, her daughter Evie is far better off in a long term relationship with Lawrie, because although they come from very different places, society will view them as the same due to their skin colour.
I felt immersed in this world the author has created. From the cold mornings on Lawrie’s postal round, to the smoky nightclubs the band plays into the early hours. This is my grandparents generation so I could also imagine the homes, the struggle of still being on rations and for the women, trying to look nice on a tight budget. It reminded me of stories my grandma and great- aunts told me about going out dancing in post-war Liverpool. I felt so much for Evie, especiallywhen her whole story unfolded towards the end of the novel. There is a whole cast of interesting characters, but Evie and Lawrie are this novel’s heart and I desperately wanted life to work out for them. Louise Hare has written a vibrant book with an incredible sense of place and time, and interesting characters. I loved it. In fact it’s a mark of how much I now love this author that I pre-ordered her next book due in 2026.
Meet the Author
Louise Hare is a London-based writer and has an MA in Creative Writing from Birkbeck, University of London. Originally from Warrington, she has found inspiration in the capital for much of her work, including This Lovely City and Miss Aldridge Regrets.
This Lovely City was featured on the inaugural BBC Two TV book club show, Between the Covers, shortlisted for the RSL Ondaatje Prize, and longlisted for the HWA Debut Crown Award. Louise was selected for the Observer Top 10 Best Debut Novelists list in 2020, securing her place as an author to watch.
This is a very personal review, because when you have a disability it’s impossible to read a collection of stories about bodily difference and it not feel personal. I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 1995, but originally broke my back at 11 years old and after years of pain developed Myofascial Pain Syndrome and disc degeneration. Disability and difference have been part of my life for so long but yet I never feel fully part of that world. That’s because my disabilities are usually invisible and I don’t really belong in either world. I even read this while struggling with my health and finally catching COVID. I’m typing up my review while in bed after a radio frequency denervation, where a heated needle is guided towards the compressed nerves and burns them to disrupt the pain messages that refer nerve pain to my legs and lower abdomen. All this goes on behind closed doors because I’m simply unable to get up and out. Then when I can go out, I appear to have very little wrong with me unless I’m using my stick or a crutch. I’m doing what’s called ‘passing’ – able to look like everyone else while having disabilities. So it’s hard to put across how moved I was by this collection portraying ‘otherness’ and how able-bodied people respond to it. Using mythology, fairy tales and a touch of Shakespeare, Lottie Mills has managed to put across so much about life with a disability and what happens when it brushes up against an able-bodied society that’s considered the norm. However, in her world these disabilities become abilities, sometimes magical ones.
The first story in the collection introduces us to a magical island where Cal and his daughter have a beautiful life of warm sand, sea and a night sky glittering with stars. He tells her stories about bear people and she asks him if they are bear people? Yes they are he says, although her mother wasn’t. She was from a human world that’s about to clash disastrously with theirs. In the human world, there’s so much that Cal can’t do because it isn’t set up like their island. In the human world Cal becomes disabled. We then see what happens when human agencies come up against their little family with disastrous consequences. Instead of concentrating on what he can do, they look at him through the prism of their own abilities and only the things he can’t do. How can he possibly look after his daughter properly when he’s so disadvantaged? Mills takes disability theory here and applied it to her character’s lives, which judging by the name Cal (Caliban) come from the type of magical island Shakespeare describes in The Tempest. Caliban has been more recently portrayed in productions of the play as a black man, a slave, or an asylum seeker rather than a monster. Mills makes the point that Caliban is only a monster when we make him one. The original model of disability is a medical one that assumes there is one ideal healthy body and anything that differs from that is wrong and needs to be fixed. When used in a social context it tells you that the things you can’t do in the world are down to your difference from the norm. However, the social model tells us that it is the way the world is set up that creates the disability. For example if all buildings eradicated stairs, creating ramps and lifts within the normal building model, the environment becomes accessible to all. If Cal is viewed in his own environment, he is capable of looking after his daughter. I was desperate for them to be reunited and I also felt a personal yearning to be part of Cal’s world. This fairy tale explains that while agencies like social services and the NHS might think they are doing the right thing for someone, there is often a better solution. That solution champions individuality and concentrates on what the person can do, rather than what they can’t.
In another story we meet a young disabled woman who craves the perfect pain- free body, something I could definitely identify with right now. However, when her wish is granted she finds it difficult to let go of her disabled identity. This was a fascinating exploration of how disability affects the person psychologically. If a disability is innate then it’s the only body that person has ever known. They know the world’s expectations of that body, their own perception of what they might achieve within that body and how able-bodied people perceive them. If the disability is acquired it can be a long and painful process to come to an acceptance of your new body. You must grieve the body you have lost, as well as all the things you expected to do with that body. I have heard many friends tell me that while they’d happily give up chronic pain or a particular aspect of their disability, they wouldn’t want to go through a reverse change and be able-bodied again. There is even a fear of becoming able-bodied again, with all the expectations that places on a person. This story perfectly encapsulates that fight within the self and how far our disabilities are assimilated into our idea of who we are. I loved Lottie’s use of horror and settings where disability has often found a home such as the circus or fairground. Freak shows were popular in the 19th Century, in both the UK and USA, with different bodies placed on show for entertainment and wonder. In fact Coney Island in New York was a hugely successful venue for such shows, where businessmen and entertainers like Barnum were making money from the display of people with differences and disabilities. It certainly wasn’t the wonderful musical extravaganza portrayed in The Greatest Showman. However, it was a place where someone with a disability could make their own money, live in a community where difference was appreciated and accommodated and achieve a level of fame. She lets us know that these issues are complex and look very different from person to person.
There is a beauty in this world of ‘otherness’ and it’s a world made up of an incredible mix of ingredients. Every person with a disability is different so the variety of experience is endless and hybrid bodies, unusual pairings/families and queer love thrives here. Lottie has found a way of balancing how the world sees us and how we see ourselves. She has used magic realism and alternative communities to show the strength there is in accepting disability and making a life with it, rather than constantly fighting to change yourself and remain in the able-bodied world. What was the most interesting thing to me was her understanding of how these issues affect the world of writing and how there are accepted narrative tropes around disability. I studied for a PhD, sadly never completed, where I was looking at how disability is portrayed in autobiography and memoir and whether this was driven by an author’s internalisation of society’s expectations or whether the publishing industry is biased towards narratives that are acceptable to able-bodied readers and they know will sell widely. The public like people who battle against their disability and illness, preferring words like ‘fight’, ‘overcome’ and ‘survive’. The accepted narrative trope is that of a journey from the dark days of diagnosis towards the rehabilitation and a triumphant ending of cure or a successful life, despite the disability. Often people with disabilities read these narratives and feel inadequate for struggling, for not achieving a similar level of ability and success. Mainly they don’t feel represented. Here Lottie shows us these stereotypes and gives us something different – individuality, community and love. Her narratives don’t follow the accepted tropes, instead focusing on acceptance, owning a disability and living with it in a way that works for the character rather than an able-bodied reader. Lottie’s writing manages to latch onto the reader and not let go, but for me it was her refusal to conform and instead confront people’s perceptions of disability. I’m hopeful for much more from this talented writer and that publishers are starting to see the value of individual and adventurous disability narratives that truly represent such a vibrant and varied community.
Published by Oneworld Publications May 2024.
Meet the Author
Lottie Mills was born in Hampshire and grew up in West Sussex, Hertfordshire, and Essex. She studied English at Newnham College, Cambridge, and contributed to Varsity and The Mays during her time there. In 2020, she won the BBC Young Writers’ Award for her short story ‘The Changeling’, having been previously shortlisted in 2018. Her work has been broadcast on BBC Radio 1 and BBC Radio 4, and she has appeared on programmes including Look East, Life Hacks, and Woman’s Hour to discuss her writing. Monstrum is her debut book.
This fascinating debut is set in 1920’s Chicago and concerns an heiress called Penelope ‘Nelly’ Sawyer, described by the author as the ‘wealthiest Negro in America’. Her father, Ambrose Sawyer, has managed to catapult his family into the upper echelons of black society. Nelly is getting over the death of her brother Elder, who has been killed in a road accident but her mother wants her to attend a Cotillien in the city at the end of summer. This is the American equivalent of a Debutante Ball, where the most prominent young women in society are presented in high society. Suddenly, and against her wishes, Nelly becomes the season’s ‘diamond’ – to use a Bridgerton term. This honour means that Nelly is now the most eligible young woman in society, but her ambitions don’t end at a society marriage. For the past year she has been indulging her passion for journalism, researching and anonymously submitting articles to a Black-run newspaper called The Chicago Defender. Her brother Elder was her co-conspirator and sounding board for her articles. He was the go-between, taking Nelly’s articles to the editor Richard Norris. Now she faces a choice, not only is she unexpectedly involved in a love triangle, she must decide to reveal her true identity to the newspaper, or allow her journalistic ambitions to end.
I really enjoy a plucky and transgressive heroine, so I was immediately on Nelly’s side. She’s been looking into the underworld of Chicago society and the leader of an organised crime group called the Mayor of Maxwell Street. This is the prohibition era and the dark but glamorous world of the secret ‘speakeasy’. She has already met one club owner through her brother. Jay Shorey is intriguing and first caught her eye at Elder’s funeral, where they seemed to spark a mutual attraction despite the unusual surroundings. Jay is the archetypal bad boy, but does find many young people from high society visit his club. He doesn’t have their family connections but has access to so many people in Chicago through the club and his ‘god-uncle’ who is a bit of a gangster. His ability to move between the darker parts of Chicago society and her own, more elevated, circles means he’s invaluable to Nelly and her investigations, but is there more to their relationship than that? Yet he isn’t the only suitor on the horizon.
As Nelly bursts onto the socialite scene, she meets Tomás Escalante y Roche at a polo match. He is one of the polo players with an uncle who is a French marquis, and a father who “owns half of Mexico” according to the wonderfully sardonic and witty Sequoia McArthur. Tomás rides a horse that Nelly happened to raise on the Sawyer ranch and she doesn’t mind giving her sharp feedback on what he’s doing wrong! Needless to say he isn’t used to hearing such criticism, especially from a young woman but her honesty makes her memorable. Tomás is hooked and he intends to court her. As far as Nelly’s family are concerned she’d be crazy not to reciprocate his affections and should jump at the chance to come out of the Cotillion summer with a fiancé. So, it’s a bit of a love triangle but also a young woman’s choice between the the life she wants and the life her family wants for her. I was rooting for her.
She chooses to face things head on by meeting Her editor in a cafeteria, and has to convince him that yes, she did write the articles. However, she comes up against a very sharp reality. Norris tells her he can’t publish articles under her real name because of her family’s position in society. He knows that the Ambrose Sawyer would soon be knocking on his door if he did. Nelly is so disappointed that Norris makes a deal. He gives her an assignment and if she succeeds he promises she can publish under her own name. Of course it’s impossible. He tells her about the Mayor of Maxwell Street, a secretive figure in gangland who seems to have achieved the impossible and brought different organisations together across the race divide. Usually Irish, Italian, Jewish and Black gangsters are having turf wars and killing each other, but that’s stopped and he thinks this new Mayor is behind it. He tells Nelly that if she can correctly identify this man he will publish her article and take the consequences of using her real name. Of course she accepts his challenge.
This is a page turner and it’s impossible not to like Nelly and admire her guts. I over the way the author handled the attitudes and outright racism of a hundred years ago. She even highlights the experiences of diverse characters on a spectrum of issues, such as poverty, class, education and skin tone. Jay’s relatively light skin enables him to ‘pass’, yes it opens doors but then you’re participating with your own oppressor. Nelly is very disapproving of living life on those terms. Jay is mixed race and he explains to her:
“There are two candy jars, right? One marked for Negroes, and one for white folk. The Negro — under penalty of death — can only take from one jar. The white man, though, he can take from one or the other. He can take from both. Never mind that the jars have the exact same candy; the white man still gets to choose. That is all I want, Nelly. The freedom to choose. I don’t want to look like them, or act like them, or be them. But I want their options.”
These issues come organically from the characters and they’re inclusion really add some weight to the historical background of the novel. Her depiction of Chicago in the 1920’s feels authentic, rather than the stylised razzle dazzle of the musical, but they come from the same world. There’s even a nod to The Great Gatsby too. This is an entertaining novel with a plucky heroine and some gravitas behind the compelling story and a compulsive need to keep reading. I look forward to seeing what the author does next.
Out Now from Thorndike Press
Meet the Author
Avery Cunningham is a resident of Memphis, TN, and a 2016 graduate of DePaul University’s Master of Arts Writing & Publishing program. She has over a decade of editorial experience with various literary magazines, small presses, and best-selling authors. Avery grew up surrounded by exceptional African-Americans who strived to uplift their communities while also maintaining a tenuous hold on prosperity in a starkly segregated environment. The sensation of being at once within and without is something she has grappled with since childhood and explores thoroughly in her work of historical fiction. When not writing, Avery is adventuring with her Bernese Mountain Dog, Grizzly, and wading waist-deep in research for her next novel. She aspires to tell the stories of complex characters fighting for their right to exist at the fringes of history. THE MAYOR OF MAXWELL STREET is her debut novel.
Hester is a doctoress, using her mother’s skills and recipes to treat the ladies of the night around her Kings Cross home. She’s offered a commission to work in the Fitzrovia home of Gervaise Cherville, a rich factory owner with declining health.
If Hester can diagnose and treat his illness he will pay her ten pounds, a life changing amount of money in 1833. Thinking that the fee will help them move to a better area of London, she leaves behind husband Jos and slightly wild sister, Willa, to work at Tall Trees the Cherville mansion. However there’s a dark energy in this old house, as if there’s a curse on Cherville and his mansion.He asks if Hester will track down two women who worked in the house – Aphrodite and Artemis. However, they weren’t servants but slaves and Cherville’s treatment of them torments him and keeps him awake at night. If Hester can find the women, allowing him to make reparation before he dies, he will raise her fee to twenty pounds. Hester is torn, twenty pounds would allow them to move to the country, removing Willa from the temptations that keep her out at night. Yet, will these women want to found, especially given Cherville’s abuses of power? Also, can Hester as a black woman, put another black women in danger without the consequences being on her conscience forever?
Inheritance is a huge theme in the novel and especially, the way in which characters receive their portion. Of course an inheritance isn’t always financial and the intentions of the giver play a large part in what it can do. Hester’s mother has given her an incredible inheritance, her doctoress’s bag of herbs and potions that can ease sicknesses of the mind and body. This of course helps her earn a living, tending to the prostitutes around their part of town at night. Kings Cross is known as a red light district and Hester tends to their venereal diseases, but also their bruises when men take what they want without paying. However, she also has the keeping of her younger sister Willa which isn’t easy. Willa is wild, easily led and naive when it comes to the intentions of men. Hester’s husband Jos finds it difficult living with Willa, especially when the sisters are at odds with each other. Willa works at the Cherville’s factory and has been noticed by Gervaise Cherville’s son, Rowland. It’s clear to Hester that his intentions aren’t honourable, but can she convince her headstrong sister that he isn’t as in love with her as he claims? When working at the Cherville’s house can she stop Rowland from recognising who she is, while also taking care that he doesn’t put undue influence on his father. Rowland isn’t happy with Gervaise giving away ‘his money’ in reparations, after all their plantation has hundreds of slaves and where will his charity end?
I loved the double meaning of the title House of Shades; the shades or ghosts of the past play their part here, especially in the mahogany furniture Cherville had made from the trees on the plantation. However, it also refers to shades of skin colour. I loved how the author explored the concept of ‘passing’ and colourism, especially in the light skinned character Lady Raine. Hester herself is very dark skinned, a colour that immediately places her in an unusual category. Her position as a doctoress situates her far higher in a house’s hierarchy than we might expect. There would be darker skinned slaves on Cherville’s plantation who are confined to working in the fields and bear the brunt of the ill treatment meted out, whereas those slaves considered lighter skinned might get to work in the household. Traditionally house slaves were thought to be higher in status than field workers, but whereas field workers get to leave the crops and spend time with their families in the village in he evenings, house slaves are at the beck and call of their master or mistress and even sleep in the house away from their families. They’re also closer to the male family members and therefore very vulnerable. There is a moment where Margaret is startled when she bumps into Hester on the landing, lurking in the darkness. She would only expect to meet servants of her own status on the master’s floor, not a black woman with her herbs and potions. I wondered how light skinned Willa was, to make her ‘palatable’ to Rowland Cherville, who appears to think slaves are expendable. He certainly doesn’t want them taking ‘his’ money.
Reparations are a huge theme in the novel and potentially the cause of Gervaise Cherville’s illness, as he admits the concerns and guilt around his treatment of slaves. Could his disturbing symptoms of insomnia, hallucinations and sleepwalking be put down to the end stage syphillis he’s suffering, or are the women he’s wronged in that house haunting him? When Hester first finds a dark, cold room off the kitchen she feels straight away that this isn’t a cold larder. There’s something about the space that she can feel and isn’t remotely surprised that slaves were sleeping in there, deemed unfit to be housed in the attic rooms with the servants. If all he wants to do is make reparations and apologise would it help the women to hear it? Or will the mention of their former master be so terrifying it disturbs their lives and leads to them fleeing once again? I suspected Gervaise hadn’t told Hester all that transpired between him and the women, in fact I doubted he even fully understood the extent of what he’d done. Yet it was Rowland Cherville who made my blood run cold, not only is he entering into exploitative relationships with young women who work in his factory but he doesn’t appear to have any empathy at all. His entire focus is on his own needs. He refers to his father’s money as his own, even though his father is still alive, and seems to have no feeling for his illness or imminent death. In fact he’d rather his father died, before he’s able to give all his money away. He also cares nothing for any of the slaves on whose backs the factory, Tall Trees and his inheritance have been built. They’re simply incidental to his own plans.
I really enjoyed the way this novel took me into the reality of Victorian England for black women. It gave me a new perspective, after Lianne’s first novel which looked at the rise of freak shows and the display of black women’s bodies. The private showings being another insidious and secret experience like rich men using women as domestic slaves and the objects of their desire behind closed doors, while seeming like a respectable businessman to society. Yet, the freak shows seemed to be freer and more in the control of the individual performer. One of the things I hated most when I visited the Slavery Museum in Liverpool, was the taking away of identity, so the way Cherville gave his slaves the names of goddesses made me shiver. It shows his desire for them on one hand, while keeping them in a cupboard, locked away all night like animals. While Hester is searching for them I was wondering whether they’d found their identity again, reclaimed their names and found a space to be relatively free. I feared that they’d had to adopt yet another identity, to disappear, constantly looking over their shoulder. Hester is a heroine that it’s easy to become involved with and I really sympathised with her feeling of being in-between: torn between being a wife and a sister; between her patient and her fellow women; not a servant, but not entirely free either. There’s even a revelation that draws her further into the history of Tall Trees. I wanted a happy ending for Hester, that she might be able to leave London and live that simpler life she and Jos have been craving. This is another triumph for Lianne Dillsworth and neatly places her on the list of authors whose books I would buy without question in future.
Published on 16th May 2024 from Random House
Meet the Author
Lianne Dillsworth lives and works in London. She has always loved anything and everything to do with books and her earliest memories involve reading and being read to. At school Lianne’s favourite subjects were English and History, so when she started writing, historical fiction was a natural choice. In Theatre of Marvels, her debut novel, Lianne indulges her love for the Victorian period evoking London in all its mid-nineteenth century glory. She is currently working on her second book under the watchful eye of her tiny terrier.
White lies. Dark humor. Deadly consequences… Bestselling sensation Juniper Song is not who she says she is, she didn’t write the book she claims she wrote, and she is most certainly not Asian American–in this chilling and hilariously cutting novel from R.F. Kuang
June Hayward and Athena Liu were in the same year at Yale and both debuted in the same year in publishing. Yet that’s where the similarities end. Athena is picked up immediately in the world that’s always looking for the next big thing. Stories about basic white girls just aren’t cutting it any more, so Athena is a cross genre literary darling. Her death is a freak accident that allows June an opportunity, she acts impulsively and steals Athena’s work in progress. Her work is an interesting novel about Chinese labourers and their part in WW1 helping the British and the French. Could she perhaps edit the manuscript and submit it to her own agent? Would it be wrong to start a new pseudonym? Enter the ethnically ambiguous new novelist June Song.
This was a brilliant inside look at issues and timely arguments within the publishing industry. In the past couple of years I’ve seen the question of authentic voices rage back and forth, especially interesting to me when it comes to writers with disabilities and the way disabled characters are written. Is it more important that a marginalised story is told or is who tells it the vital issue? This can be especially urgent when it’s a previously untold story or a hidden part of history. June has so much success with the book, but struggles to protect her secrets. One wrong word could expose her, so how far will she go to protect her new identity?
I’m always fascinated with books where I don’t like any of the characters because it usually means I’m learning something. I think some readers are uncomfortable with this. Athena is the wronged party and should therefore be ‘likeable’. In fact racist or more accurately model minority thinking means that a Western audience might expect the Athena to be sweet, pretty, docile and diligent just because she’s Asian. The qualities are positive, but allow no room for difference unlike the endlessly unique white characters created every day by Western writers. Huang broaches the idea that the industry’s criteria for deciding which Asian writers to publish is based within this flawed expectation. There’s also an issue around the type of subject matter chosen by publishers. In the wake of George Floyd’s death a lot changed in the publishing industry and we all talked a lot about diversity, but when I think of the subject matter of books I’ve read from ethnically diverse writers, particularly African American or Black British writers, they have all contained sexual abuse, violence or intergenerational trauma. Can we say this is a true reflection of the experience of people from those communities? Or do publishers expect this type of story from black writers and favour publishing them over other narratives? Do we only accept marginalised voices when they’re saying things we expect, things that make us comfortable because they echo our ideas about that particular community?
June truly believes that she’s becoming the minority in the writing world. That unless you’re a BIPOC writer you can’t get a look in from agents and publishers. The focus is on ‘own voice’ fiction and no one wants to hear from yet another white girl. I thought about the controversy around the book American Dirt when reading this. Writing is all about imagination and an author can imagine anything. An author can also research anything, but is research enough when you’re attempting to write from the perspective of someone with a disability, or someone LGBTQ+. I have to mention the proliferation of books from a neuro-divergent perspective by writers who have experience in this area, but who aren’t neuro-divergent themselves. I can understand the concern about it, but I’ve also really learned from some of these books and been led to other reading so I could educate myself. Where does ‘own voice’ writing end? Are we saying that a male writer can’t write in the voice of a female character? Writing is all about creativity so if we can only ever write from our own viewpoint wouldn’t it get a little boring? Should publishers accept a manuscript from a white writer who’s writing outside their own experience, if they are inundated with own voice manuscripts of equal merit?
“She’s using the pen name Juniper Song to pretend to be Chinese American. She’s taken new author photos to look more tan and ethnic, but she’s as white as they come. June Hayward you are a thief and a liar. You’ve stolen my legacy and now you spit on my grave’.
I loved that this book addressed those big issues, but it was also entertaining, delicious and disturbing in equal measure. I really enjoyed the ins and outs of the publishing world and the gossipy social media ‘blow-up’ feel of the book. Then there were moments that were more uncomfortable and challenging. It addressed what a lonely job it is to be a writer and how that isolation magnifies other aspects of being an author such as the negativity of social media and the perils of comparison. I wasn’t sure about June but that meant her character stayed with me. On one hand I felt she deserved to be exposed, but when I saw the reality of that I felt really bad for her. This was such a clever novel, so complex, full of amazing contemporary issues and always entertaining.
Meet the Author
Rebecca F. Kuang is the #1 New York Times bestselling and Hugo, Nebula, Locus, and World Fantasy Award nominated author of Babel, the Poppy War trilogy, and the forthcoming Yellowface. She is a Marshall Scholar, translator, and has an MPhil in Chinese Studies from Cambridge and an MSc in Contemporary Chinese Studies from Oxford. She is now pursuing a PhD in East Asian Languages and Literatures at Yale.
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