When record executive Theo meets the Future Saints, they’re bombing at a dive bar in their hometown. Since the tragic death of their manager, the band has been in a downward spiral and Theo has been dispatched to coax a new – and successful – album out of them, or else let them go.
Theo is struck right away by Hannah, the group’s impetuous lead singer, who has gone off script in debuting a new song-and, in fact, a whole new sound. Theo’s supposed to get the band back on track, but when their new music garners an even wider fan base than before, the plans begin to change-new tour, new record, new start.
But Hannah’s descent into grief has larger consequences for the group, and she’s not willing to let go yet. not for fame or love.
I wasn’t sure at first that I’d get into this novel about a rock band, but it soon grabbed hold of me and I was rooting for all of them and their new manager Theo. The book managed to be both sad and angry, but also romantic and full of hope. The Future Saints are reeling from the death of their manager Ginny who was the lead singer Hannah’s sister. The rest of the band are simply following Hannah’s lead at the moment and she’s gone off their usual track with a new sound that’s darker and more rock. Theo is known as ‘the fixer’ at Manifold Records, he is sent in when a band is struggling or going off the rails. He has one instruction from the CEO, bring in a Future Saints album, then let them go. However, fate intervenes at their first gig when Hannah debuts a deeply emotional new song and falls into the audience while being filmed. The clip goes viral and everyone is talking about the Future Saints new sound and their singer who appears to be having a meltdown. The telephone starts to ring with bookings for gigs and television, but are Hannah and the band in the best frame of mind for interviews and this kind of exposure? Theo has a difficult line to tread, between the instructions from Manifold and this whole new world opening up for a band he’s starting to care about. Perhaps he cares a little too much.
It took me a while to connect with Hannah, she’s angry, defensive and you never quite know what she’s going to do next. Somehow the author conveys just how magnetic a presence she is on stage and the depths of emotion she has the ability to communicate. She constantly talks to Ginny, something I assumed was only happening internally but Hannah is very clear. Ginny is the only person she allows close to her, even more so since she became ‘the girl who haunts me, my own personal ghost.’ I could see she was so wrapped up in her grief, that she’s forgotten others are grieving too. Her bandmates and her parents have also lost Ginny, but Hannah can only cope with her own pain. Her bandmates are going along with the new sound and direction, especially as the album starts to take shape, and they’re committed to Hannah too but as she increasingly melts down she seems to have forgotten that her actions affect all three of them. They now affect Theo too, but where he might have come down hard on a musician in the past, when Hannah plays up he increasingly feels an urge to hug and protect her. She’s so unbelievably raw but even with therapy she struggles to articulate what she’s really feeling and why. She also hasn’t stopped to think whether her version of Ginny is accurate, or simply the Ginny she wants to see. Anyone who has lost someone will identify with Hannah’s loss and perhaps the catharsis of using her creativity to express those difficult emotions. After my husband’s death I wrote a book about my experience and it did help me process some of the trauma as well as the loss. Hannah wants to communicate what an incredible person Ginny was and everything she meant to her. This is understandable as sometimes I felt like screaming because of all the turmoil inside, especially in places where everyone else doesn’t know what happened and is just going about their everyday life.
However, Hannah isn’t reserving this raw anger for the stage, her drinking is reaching worrying levels and she’s taking on stunts like shaving her own head at a party, egged on by Manifold Records’ CEO Roger. Through him we see the exploitative side of the music industry, because instead of looking after Hannah outside of working in the studio, he’s taking on bigger and bigger gigs and bookings from Jimmy Kimmell and SNL. He also makes sure she’s seen with the right people at parties – usually other Manifold signings he wants to promote – and encourages her destructive side. After all, a lead singer in meltdown is always going to be news, especially when they’re a woman. We learned this from Britney. Hannah isn’t strong enough to withstand this sort of pressure and Roger knows that. I didn’t trust him with the band or in his promise that he’ll make Theo director of management if the Saints deliver their album. We get a glimpse of the luxury that’s available when you’re a star in the ascendancy, but posh hotel rooms, infinity pools and champagne on private jets isn’t the way this band need looking after. Theo knows this and while I often find romantic prospects in novels rather boring, Theo is interesting and has his own conflicts that cause him to be a ‘rescuer’ of people. He longs to do well in his job, then perhaps when he meets his absent father he might be proud of him. There’s a conflict here though. He really starts to love the members of this band and desperately wants success for them, but he also wants them to be well and happy – something they’re a long way from when he finds them. If Roger comes good on his promise, could Theo walk away from the Saints and become the ‘Suit’ they tease him about? Also, realising the person you have feelings for needs help is hard, especially when you suspect the help they need will take them away from you. Can Theo prove his worth and wait?
We hear more from the rest of the band through articles and transcripts of interviews, but that doesn’t mean that Ripper and Kenny are one dimensional. Ripper is proudly one of the few South Asian guitarists on the scene and his move to lead guitar on some of their new tracks has really blown the audience away. He is interested in his Hindu roots and the philosophy around the religion, something that he also has to reconcile with coming out as bisexual. Kenny is the happy little heartbeat of the group, an incredibly skilled drummer who keeps the others on track. He is also surprising, he could have been a stereotypical flower child but he isn’t, having an interest in the philosophy of Heidegger and how it relates to music. I used Heidegger for my unfinished PHD on disability representation, because he was part of the phenomenological branch of thinking that values lived experience and being in the moment. It adds a dimension that I hadn’t expected when in one interview Kenny sums up exactly why human life is of such value and it’s because of time, our existence is finite and therefore becomes more precious. I was fascinated with the author’s depiction of therapy and the self insight Hannah has that allows her to engage with it fully and with commitment. The author pitched the novel well, flowing from the depths of grief to the terrible tension of Hannah’s eventual breakdown and Theo desperately trying to save her. What stops Hannah’s grief from being unbearable are the humorous moments of party antics, the band playing her old school and the stories of Ginny – one involving a tapir! I loved learning about Ginny through these people who loved her and had every hope that through their music the Saints would immortalise her. These moments lift the book and I did hope that the band would succeed, that Hannah would recover and laugh again, that Theo would find his path in life and perhaps that love might eventually find a way. As Kenny tells his interviewer, music is the perfect medium to express the experience of living because like life, a song is a finite thing. It’s why when the music builds and reaches a crescendo we feel euphoric and emotional, because we know it signals we’re nearing the end.
“Her art is alive, searing, moving, brutal, honest. She represents us as we are in this moment; beleaguered by pain and exhaustion, unsure if we can save ourselves, but incapable of not trying, of not making art and meaning.”
From a review of Hannah and the Future Saints’ performance that goes viral.
Meet the Author
Ashley Winstead is an academic turned bestselling novelist with a Ph.D. in contemporary American literature. She lives in Houston with her husband, three cats, and beloved wine fridge.
Alone in New Orleans, Selina is struggling to fit in until a charismatic stranger invites her for a drink. It feels like fate, but who is Daniel, and what does he want from her? Just as the humidity and the hangovers start to take their toll, Daniel vanishes
NOW
Daniel is missing. No one has seen or heard from him in weeks. Beside herself with worry, his sister Caroline hosts an intimate gathering in her London home so those closest to Daniel can come together and compare notes. But what should have been five courses of a Cajun-style feast has now become an interrogation. Those left behind must piece together their shared understanding of the man they thought they knew.
And all isn’t quite as it seems: Caroline has invited a stranger to the table, an accomplished psychic who claims to have met Daniel four thousand miles away in New Orleans. As evening turns to night, the dark truth of what really happened begins to emerge…
As a lifelong fan of Harry Connick Junior I have always fancied a trip to New Orleans. I certainly don’t want this trip to New Orleans, although the author presents a city that’s full of life and her descriptions of the food, cocktails and atmosphere really set the scene for me. It feels like a place where you could have a very good time or a very bad time with nothing in between. I felt something was ‘off’ very quickly, both at Caroline’s house and during their dinner guest Selina’s story of her trip to New Orleans. As Daniel’s friends gathered at his sister’s London home it took me a while to get to know everyone, but something about the gathering and their relationships seemed strange. If my brother had gone missing somewhere in the world, I’m not sure I’d have gone out of my way to cook a dish from that place. It felt a little suffocating and even in their reminiscences Caroline seemed unusually attached to her brother. We know their parents are dead and they only have each other, but they went to university together, live together and Caroline was trying hard to control her brother’s share of their inheritance. I was starting to think that if I were Daniel, I might have disappeared. As the novel begins she is getting ready for her brother’s return like Mrs Dalloway, picking up flowers and shopping for a special dinner almost as if she’s preparing for a lover. Then there’s Richard, friend to them both and their housemate at university. His attachment to Caroline does go further than friendship, but it feels one sided with one flashback that may be the most awkward sex scene I’ve ever read.
As psychic Selina starts to relate her story of meeting Daniel in New Orleans the discomfort continues. I liked Selina and related to her feelings of empathy for Daniel, but she has no boundaries. She’s booked an ordinary New Orleans tourist experience, but once Daniel is involved he seems determined to show her his version of the city and she goes willingly. He had me on edge immediately because he felt like a swan, seemingly chilled and witty on the surface, but clearly pedalling like mad underneath to keep up a front. I suspected early on that he was struggling, emotionally and financially, latching onto people who would be susceptible to his charm. With his white shirt and long hair (I might have imagined the leather trousers) his appearance made me think of Michael Hutchence – very dynamic and magnetic but perhaps hasn’t washed for a few days! I kept veering between thinking he was genuine then suspecting that he’d noticed Selina’s alternative look and her habit of consulting her tarot cards in public places. Did he see her as gullible and potentially his next mark? He matches the city perfectly. Underneath the usual tourist hotspots there’s a decadence in the food, the bars and even the people. Some of the food and drink scenes made me queasy. It sounds delicious in theory but never tastes quite right, it’s too rich and full of seafood. There’s a particular shot that’s like oysters, it feels like drinking ‘phlegm’ something I’m almost phobic about. Daniel suggests trips to a death museum and out to the Bayou trail where morbid death stories are the norm. He’s like an energy vampire, feeding off making someone else unsettled and slowly Selina becomes more unsure of herself, her judgement and even her psychic abilities. We shouldn’t be surprised, after all this city is the home of voodoo priestesses, ghosts and vampire stories. Death seems to be everywhere and the city starts to feel as claustrophobic as Caroline’s flat.
Of course this is Selina’s version of events and it’s a brave thing to do, going into Daniel’s home and meeting his closest friends and family. Especially when the story you have to tell either puts their loved one in a bad light or confirms they’re in danger. However, as we learn more about his friends between Selina’s story, I couldn’t understand what kept them together as a group. There’s a history of Daniel taking from people, whether it’s knowledge, sex, or money and he never seems to be held accountable. Caroline is always there to mop things up, like an overprotective mother. There are so many unspoken feelings here, Selina loves Max but suspects he loves Daniel. Richard still loves Caroline. They clearly care about Daniel, but their memories throw up so many questions about him. I didn’t really like any of them. There are so many twists and turns in their reminiscences as well as in Selina’s tale. They take us as far back as their shared university years and through many unexpected places and events before we reach the end. Everyone has a reason to dislike Daniel. He is a strange combination of both scared and reckless. It’s as if Caroline has been holding on so tight because she knows that out of her sight he will self destruct, taking more risks and falling further than ever. Is her tendency to control coming from a place of fear? It’s almost as if Daniel can only throw himself into life fully if he knows it has a finite end. I won’t tell you anymore, but it doesn’t end the way you expect. This is very clever writing and I really didn’t know how I felt at the end. I disliked pretty much every character, but still couldn’t put this book down. Everyone is hiding something and the journey to find out their secrets is unnerving, confusing and very disturbing indeed.
Meet the Author
Alice Slater is a writer, podcaster and ex-bookseller from London. She studied creative writing at MMU and UEA. She lives in London with her husband and a lot of books. Death of a Bookseller is her first novel.
I love the tagline to this novel because it is just so peculiarly British. The phrase ‘shall I be mother’ meaning ‘shall I pour the tea’ must seem so odd to people whose first language isn’t English. It fits perfectly to this book because it’s about all those tiny tasks of motherhood, not to mention the ‘mental load’. It acknowledges a role, but is it a role that can be avoided as easily as it can be adopted? Underlying all those tiny things a mother does are huge acts of care and love, duty, loyalty and service. I read this book back when I was at university but have never been a mother, until I entered a relationship with a man who had two daughters around eight years ago. So it’s later in life when I’ve started to complain about all the tiny things I do that go unnoticed, usually after Christmas when I have the annual moan of ‘without women there would be no Christmas.” Loved and Missed is about Ruth a schoolteacher and single mother whose daughter Eleanor rebels against her fiercely, before leaving her to bring up her granddaughter Lily when Eleanor can’t. It’s not a plot driven novel, but more of an observance on life as a mum. The title refers to a gravestone that Lily notices with the epitaph ‘Loved and Missed’, which sounds as if love was intended but never quite reached or the target moved at the last moment. This slightly comedic, bittersweet observation sets the tone for a novel that’s about the mundanities of everyday life but also the emotions hidden amongst the endless washing and cleaning. It suggests that motherhood can take many forms and doesn’t always run in linear ways – a truth that rings home for me as the mother to many more people than my two stepdaughters. However, once taken, these bonds can’t be removed. This is a novel about what jt’s like to be in a mother -daughter relationship that may be a rollercoaster at times and at other times just ordinary everyday life.
Postcards From The Edge
‘I don’t think you can even call this a drug. This is just a response to the conditions we live in.’
I really do miss Carrie Fisher, whether it’s the 19year old of Star Wars, the cynical friend of Sally Albright or the grumpy and hilarious mother in Catastrophe. A fictionalised look at her own relationship with her mother Debbie Reynolds, made all the more poignant by the fact that we now know that when Carrie died suddenly and unexpectedly, her mother died the day after. She just wanted to be with Carrie, said Reynolds’s son and it tells us how strong that bond is, even when it’s been stretched and almost broken. Susannah Vale is a former acclaimed actress, but is now in rehab, feeling like ‘something on the bottom of someone’s shoe, and not even someone interesting’. She becomes Immersed in the harrowing, but often hilarious, goings-on of the drug hospital and wondering how she’ll cope – and find work – back on the outside. Then she meets the Heathcliff of addiction, new patient Alex. He’s ambitious, Byronically good looking and is in the depths of addiction. He makes Suzanne realize that, although her life might seem eccentric, there’s always someone who’s even closer to the edge of reason. This is clearly in some ways autobiographical, dealing with that second generation Hollywood problem of following in a parent’s footsteps. There are times when Suzanne would like her mum to be there, but Mum is filming so has to send the maid over instead. It’s quite different from the film, but both are witty and a great read. I often wondered if Debbie Fisher’s role as Grace’s mother in the series Will and Grace had some basis in her relationship with her daughter and it’s possible.
One Italian Summer by Rebecca Serle
When Katy’s mother dies, she is left reeling. Carol wasn’t just Katy’s mum, but her best friend and first phone call. She had all the answers and now, when Katy needs her the most, she is gone. To make matters worse, the mother-daughter trip of a lifetime looms: two weeks in Positano, the magical town where Carol spent the summer before she met Katy’s father. Katy has been waiting years for Carol to take her, and now she is faced with embarking on the adventure alone. But as soon as she steps foot on the Amalfi Coast, Katy begins to feel her mother’s spirit. Buoyed by the stunning waters, beautiful cliffsides, delightful residents, and – of course – delectable food, Katy feels herself coming back to life. And then Carol appears, healthy and sun-tanned… and thirty years old. Meeting her Mum at this age is going to throw up things Katy didn’t know about. Carol doesn’t recognise her, so her actions are completely unguarded, whereas Katy does know who Carol is and I wondered how long she would be able to keep it to herself. It was interesting to see Katy starting to question whether all aspects of their relationship were positive. Carol has always been so opinionated about how things should be done so Katy and Eric have always gone to her for advice when making decisions. Katy realises she’s never made her own decisions because Carol has always weighed in on everything from what clothes to buy and whether she should have children yet. She always seemed so sure of what to do and Katy has felt inadequate to an extent, unable to weigh up the options and make her own mistakes. There is a bit of anger and resentment here; Why does this Carol seem so go with the flow when her mum always planned everything with military precision? This was another beautiful book from Rebecca Searle, concentrating on the relationships between mothers and daughters and the effect our parents have on our development as people. All set in the magical Italian sun, with a lot of personal reflection and even a little bit of romance thrown in. I loved how the space and the experience gives Katy a chance to re-evaluate her life and the way she’s been living it.
I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jeanette McCurdy
Jennette McCurdy was only six years old when she had her first acting audition. Her mother’s dream was for her only daughter to become a star, whatever it took, and Jennette would do anything to make her mother happy. So she went accepted what her mother called “calorie restriction”, plus weighing herself five times a day and eventually shrinking down to 89 pounds. She endured endless at-home makeovers using knockoff whitening strips, hot curlers, eyelash tint, and gobs of bleach to enhance her “natural beauty.” She was showered by her mother until she was sixteen while sharing her diaries, an email account, and all her earnings. The dream finally comes true when Jennette is cast in a new Nickelodeon series called iCarly and is thrust into fame. But for Jennette, the dream is a nightmare. Overnight, her fake smile and cheesy airbrushed hair-do is plastered on billboards across the country. Of course her mom is ecstatic, ordering her to smile for the paparazzi (with whom she’s on a first-name basis) and sign endless autographs for fans who only know her by her character’s name, Jennette is riddled with anxiety, shame and self-loathing, which manifest into eating disorders, addiction and a series of unhealthy relationships.These issues only get worse when Jennette’s mother dies of cancer. Finally, after discovering therapy and coldly examining the relationship with her mother, Jennette embarks on recovery and decides for the first time in her life what she really wants. Told with raw honesty and equal parts gravity and humor, I’m Glad My Mom Died is a shocking, devastating, and ultimately inspiring story of resilience.
After the Eclipse by Sarah Perry
When Sarah Perry was twelve, there was a partial eclipse – supposedly a good omen for her and her mother, Crystal who were living in rural Maine. But that moment of darkness was a foreshadowing moment: two days later, Crystal is murdered in their home. It then took twelve years to find the killer. In that time, Sarah had to learn how to rebuild her life despite the obvious abandonment issues and the toll of the police interrogation and effects of trauma. She looked forward to the eventual trial, hoping that afterwards she would feel a sense of closure, but it didn’t come. Finally, she realised that she understanding her mother’s death wasn’t what she needed. She needed to understand her mother’s life. So, drawn back to Maine and the secrets of a small American town she begins to investigate. I was stunned by what Perry does with such a dark subject matter. This could have been a tragedy but Perry manages to create warmth and humanity from her story. I was honestly surprised by how hopeful it felt, despite the grief and a search for understanding. Perry shows how the working poor overcome challenges and how strong mothers make choices we can’t imagine in terrible circumstances. With clarity and kindness Perry explains the motivations of people in poverty and is even understanding towards the men in her mother’s life, while managing to make the link between misogyny and violence against women. Something that’s both a cause of violence and a factor in investigating crimes against women. She presents her hometown with so much warmth and the landscape of Maine provides a stunning backdrop to her childhood. This was a beautiful and authentic read.
Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng
Everyone in Shaker Heights was talking about it that summer: how Isabelle, the last of the Richardson children, had finally gone around the bend and burned the house down.
In Shaker Heights, a placid, progressive suburb of Cleveland, everything is meticulously planned – from the layout of the winding roads, to the colours of the houses, to the successful lives its residents will go on to lead. And no one embodies this spirit more than Elena Richardson, whose guiding principle is playing by the rules. Mia Warren is an enigmatic artist and single mother, who arrives in this idyllic suburb with her teenage daughter Pearl. She rents a house from the Richardsons and soon Mia and Pearl become more than just tenants. Soon and in different ways all four Richardson children are drawn to this mother-daughter pairing. But Mia carries a mysterious past and a disregard for the unspoken rules that threatens to upend this carefully ordered community. The catalyst for conflict comes when an old family friend of the Richardsons attempts to adopt a Chinese-American baby and a custody battle erupts that dramatically divides the town. A divide that puts Mia and Elena on opposing sides. Suspicious of Mia and her motives, Elena is determined to uncover the secrets in Mia’s past. But her obsession will come at an unexpected and devastating cost. This is an unputdownable thriller that shows us two very different ways of mothering. One is very ordered and focused on achievements, having goals and knowing the right people. The other is more intuitive and emotionally authentic, but also carries baggage from previous lives. It also shows how individual children can’t be approached or parented in the same way. Finally with the adoption storyline she brings in the economic impact of becoming a mother, meaning it’s a hard or impossible choice for some women. Utterly gripping.
Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson
This is the story of Jeanette, born to be one of God’s elect: adopted by a fanatical Pentecostal family and ablaze with her own zeal for the scriptures, she seems perfectly suited for the life of a missionary. But then she converts Melanie, and realises she loves this woman almost as much as she loves the Lord. How on Earth could her Church called that passion Unnatural? While this is categorised as a queer coming of age story, it is not Jeanette’s relationship with Melanie that I remember but the relationship between her and her mother. Perhaps because I grew up in an evangelical church environment after being a Roman Catholic until I was ten years old, those scenes at the church and just how intransigent her mother was, stayed with me. This was a book and a tv series I shared with my mother and possibly played a part in her realisations about the church she was in. There’s a horrifying zeal to her mother’s actions. Her religion dominates the life of her household and has effectively placed a barrier between her and her husband. Jeanette’s childhood is a litany of brainwashing that starts the moment she gets up and only stops when she goes to sleep. There is no room to manoeuvre within her rules and expectations, but when Jeanette becomes friends with Melanie it emboldens her to ask the question. If her love for Melanie feels so authentic and natural, how can it be wrong? This thought and the kindness of others in her community is her lifeline. This book showed me what I already suspected was wrong with the teachings of my own mother’s choice of church and how much it had taken over my parent’s lives – thankfully not for too long. I didn’t know at first that this was auto-fiction but I admired Jeanette Winterson so much for writing it, not just because it was a queer love story, but because it questioned evangelical religion and showed how it can devastate the relationship between mothers and daughters.
Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat
I always recommend this debut novel of Edwidge Danticat’s. I first read it at university as part of my post-colonial and American literature modules and set off a lifelong interest in Haiti. Sophie has always lived with her aunt in Haiti, but at the age of twelve, she is sent to New York to be reunited with her mother, who she barely remembers. Feeling completely out of place in New York’s Haitian diaspora she longs for the sights and tastes of home, with a mother who only wants to forget. She doesn’t understand why her mother bleaches her skin and doesn’t eat very much, only that she misses her home. There are also her mother’s boyfriends who seem to make the gulf between her and her mum even wider, leaving them no time to get to know each other. After a while she makes friends with a boy in their apartment block and starts to feel heard, but this friendship is a catalyst for terrible actions, family secrets and a legacy of shame that comes from trauma. Sophie knows this can be healed only when she returns to Haiti – to the women who first reared her. What ensues is a passionate journey through a landscape charged with the supernatural and scarred by political violence.
Danticat evokes the wonder, terror, and heartache of her native Haiti through the women of this family. She depicts the enduring strength of Haiti’s women – with vibrant imagery and a narrative that bears witness to their suffering.
Amazing Grace Adam’s by Fran Littlewood
Is this the best worst day of her life?
Grace is stuck in traffic, it’s a boiling hot day and she’s melting. All she wants to do is get to the bakery and pick up the cake for her daughter’s birthday. Lotte moved out and is living with her father. This is one hell of a birthday cake, not only is it a Love Island cake; it has to say that Grace cares, that she’s sorry, that will show Lotte she loves her and hasn’t given up on their relationship. It’s shaping up to be the day from hell and as Grace sits in a tin can on boiling hot tarmac, something snaps. She decides to get out of the car and walk, leaving her vehicle stranded and pissing off everyone now blocked by a car parked in the middle of a busy road. She’s peri-menopausal, wearing trainers her daughter thinks she shouldn’t be wearing at her age and she’s had enough. So, despite the fact her trainers aren’t broken in, she sets off walking towards the bakery and a reunion with Lotte. There are just a few obstacles in the way, but Grace can see the cake and Lotte’s face when she opens the box. As she walks she recounts everything that has happened to bring her to where she is now, including the secret of how they all got here.
The truth when it comes is devastating, but feels weirdly like something you’ve known all along. Those interspersed chapters from happier times are a countdown to this moment, a before and after that runs like a fault line through everything that’s happened since. As Grace closes in on Lotte’s party, sweaty, dirty and brandishing her tiny squashed cake, it doesn’t seem enough to overturn everything that’s happened, but of course it isn’t about the cake. This is about everything Grace has done to be here, including the illegal bits. In a day that’s highlighted to Grace how much she has changed, physically and emotionally, her determination to get to Lotte has shown those who love her best that she is still the same kick-ass woman who threw caution to the wind and waded into the sea to save a man she didn’t know from drowning. That tiny glimpse of how amazing Grace Adams is, might just save everything.
In A Thousand Different Ways by Cecilia Aherne
She knows your secrets. Now discover hers…
You’ve never met anyone like Alice. She sees the best in people. And the worst. She always seems to know exactly what everyone around her is feeling: a thousand different emotions. Every. Single. Day. In amongst all that noise, she’s lost herself.
But there’s one person she can’t read. And that’s the person who could change her life.
Is she ready to let him in? While this is Alice’s story it all hinges on the relationship she and her two brothers had with their mother. Alice has a form of synasthaesia – an ability to see people’s character and emotions in colour. These auras help to inform her of the mood her mum is in, so she knows when to keep her head down or get out of the way. Alice and her older brother are desperately trying to keep their family together despite their mother’s mental health and the alcohol she abuses to self-medicate. Alice can tell the highs, when her mother might go into a frenzy of baking or creating, imagining she could run her own business. Then there are days she can’t even make it out of bed. The children don’t want to be found out and split up, perhaps even taken into care. Until one day Alice comes home and sees a dark blue colour hovering over her mum and knows she must take action. Alice’s childhood affects her ability to trust, to form relationships and even value herself but one thing she does know is what kind of mother she will be. Years later, Alice’s mother re-enters her life with a terminal illness. She wants to meet her grandchildren and make amends. Can Alice trust her and will she finally be able to process the trauma of her childhood? This was a great read from a writer I don’t usually read. It captures the fear of going home for a child whose parent struggles with their mental health an addiction. It also explores the complexities of time away from that parent, how it can be healing but also difficult to draw those boundaries. It also brings up forgiveness and how it can be just as healing.
Kate and Vic have been married for a few years after meeting when she was studying in Rome. After a normal morning rush at home she travels into London, on the pretext of doing an interview. However, she has a different destination in mind. This is an appointment she’s been keeping for several years like clockwork. Now she’s caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. She should be travelling home later this afternoon – picking up the kids from school and collecting the rabbit from the vets. Instead she’s trapped in room 706, in a luxury hotel that’s under siege by a terrorist group. How can she explain why she’s here? Even if her body is discovered in the aftermath, everyone will wonder what she is doing here? She has always been very careful, leaving no trace. Now she wonders whether her husband Vic will understand why? As she tries to summon the words that convey just how much Vic and her children mean to her, Kate reflects on all the choices that brought her here.
I’d read so many great reports of this book and I couldn’t wait to read it, as soon as it arrived last year. It’s such a great premise and has a woman who doesn’t enjoy the constraints of marriage and motherhood. I can honestly say that even I’ve fantasied about holidaying alone for a fortnight, never mind an afternoon in a hotel. Although I couldn’t be bothered by a lover either. This is one of those books that makes the reader go back and forth on what they think of the characters and I can imagine book clubs having long conversations about Kate particularly. After all, society judges women far more harshly than men, especially those who express dislike or even ambivalence about motherhood. I didn’t just focus on Kate, because I felt if I was to understand I needed to look at the whole of her life and the people who’d had the most influence on her. The author takes us beyond those Instagram selfies with the new baby and the false idea it can give of other people’s perfect lives. Here we look at the reality of family life for Kate and how the way we parent is often based on the example of our parents or grandparents. Our ability to parent is also dependent on our work situation as well as the personality or parenting style of the other parent. The author cleverly tells Kate’s story in her own words and then shows through memories, alerts and messages on her phone, as well as mental conversation with people she’s lost, who Kate is and what happened to bring her here.
We know she loves her husband Vic. While studying in Rome she lived in his Nonna’s apartment, while Nonna had her own place with her grandson Vic who has suffered a nervous breakdown. Despite being ten years older than Kate, Vic is treated as the vulnerable one who needs protection. His brother Tom pleads with her not to hurt his brother and I felt the weight of that placed upon her. Yet Kate has just lost her mother, will she ever get to be the vulnerable one? They are happy and Kate relives so many beautiful memories that show us how much she loves him and their children. Yet there isn’t anyone apart from Vic’s brother to be their support network. Kate and her mum were a duo, no dad around and no siblings either. I loved one moment where Kate asked her mother what it’s like being a single mum. Her mum replies honestly that it’s hard work, but she can choose how they live and the values they have. There’s no one else to negotiate with, no clashing parenting styles or being let down by someone not doing their bit. If you contrast this with the evidence of Kate’s own phone it’s telling. She has an app that divides her ‘to do’ list into things that need to be done now, in the next couple of months, or sometime in the future. She sets reminders to coordinate her life, so ‘to do’ reminders join the reminder to check her breasts, to do her kegel exercises, to do the weekly food order. Meanwhile she places family photos into folders, makes lists of bank passwords, Christmas gift lists and house maintenance jobs. If she dies here, Vic will need to know this stuff. By contrast her male lover simply sleeps. Because he can.
Kate reminisces about a family holiday they took to Italy and reassesses the hours spent on research, price comparing, insurance, bite and sunburn cream, swimwear for the kids and so on. Vic would have simply bought a couple of T-shirts and booked the second or third package deal they saw and it would still have been a good holiday. Vic’s laidback parenting style and his vulnerability mean she’s he person who carries that mental load. Of course some of this is on Kate, as she’s clearly risk averse and overthinks decisions but she also has no significant female support. Since she lost her mum and then best friend Eve, all her relationships outside the home are superficial. Do these things excuse adultery? It will still hurt the ones they love, never mind the psychological reasons for the decision. However, all of that juggling made me understand a little. She has a need for something – rather like an old-fashioned pressure cooker needs to blow off steam. In this time, in an anonymous hotel room what she needs is no strings, no judgement and no backstory. It’s just completely selfish pleasure. Her sex life at home is tender and loving, they consider each other and everything they’ve built together as a couple is part of their sex life. From that unexpected first time with her lover it’s been about taking her pleasure and asking for exactly what she wants. This afternoon, that happens once every few weeks, enables her to be the wife and mum the family need her to be. She’s trying to recapture that carefree young woman who went off to study in Italy, who has clearly been totally changed by everything that’s happened since. It seems ironic that someone who plans everything so carefully, finds herself in a situation that’s absolutely out of her control.
This is an incredible debut! It’s absolutely pitch perfect. The author carefully lets the tension mount so slowly that while reminiscing we can almost forget where Kate is in the here and now. A prisoner in this room, she has to be silent so they can’t put the television on and they can’t flush a toilet. When the lights and electricity go they’re almost totally cut off from the outside world. It’s an eerie muffled silence, but a quiet that is sometimes broken by heavy footsteps or other hotel guests meeting their fate. You will hold your breath at times. The forced intimacy means she asks questions of her lover that she’s never asked before. She knows nothing about his life, only that he’s married and has been sleeping with her in this way for several years. We know the terrorists are stalking the corridors, one floor at a time, but we don’t know whether they have a master key or a bomb. I realised that despite her family unit, Kate is lonely. What she wants is for someone to see and appreciate her as Kate the woman, not the mum, wife or journalist. You will be compelled to read this as I did, long into the night. It has the pitch perfect pacing and tension of a thriller, but so many psychological layers. Women will identify with Kate, at least some part of her. She very simply wants to be seen, desired and receive pleasure. Surely though, at some point, Room 706 will be next. Kate has had an opportunity to assess and understand her life, to possibly make changes and live more. You’ll have to read to the end to find out whether she gets that chance.
Out on Jan 15th 2026 from Headline
Meet the Author
Hi, I’m Ellie Levenson. I’m the author of the novel Room 706 which comes out in January 2026. It’s my debut novel, though you may see other books by me online as I was previously a freelance journalist and during this time wrote some non fiction books including one on feminism and one on how to get ideas for features. I have also written various books for children using the name Eleanor Levenson.
Room 706 tells the story of Kate, a happily married mother who meets her lover, James, in hotels every few months as a form of me-time. It might as well be a facial or a shoe-buying habit, she tells herself. Except this time, while cleaning up and getting dressed, she turns on the television and looks at her phone and realises the hotel has been seized by terrorists. How do you tell your spouse that you won’t be home to pick up the kids because you’re at the centre of the incident on the news?
It comes out in January 2026. In the meantime do give this page a follow if you’d like to be kept up to date with my work, and any special offers. And if you do feel able to pre-order, that is super helpful.
I thought it was probably time to introduce myself to my new subscribers and what better way to do it than by sharing some of my all time favourite novels. First of all I’d like to say welcome to you all and thank you for subscribing. This year there will still be book reviews and blog tour posts, but I’m also going to be sharing my favourite novel and authors with my Sunday Spotlight and my new Tens on Tuesday posts, starting with this one. I think this post lets you know a bit about me and my interests: historical novels, crime and mystery, the Gothic, trauma and psychology, disability and finally a little sprinkle of magic. I hope you enjoy hearing about what I’m currently reading but also older books, authors and themes I love too. Wishing you all a Happy New Year and a great year reading what you love.
I think this novel is the one that explains a lot about my reading tastes ever since I first read it when I was ten years old and the BBC series with Timothy Dalton as Mr Rochester was on Sunday afternoons. I loved how this little girl tried to stand up for herself with her horrible aunt and cousin, being labelled wilful and passionate and in need of correction. Being locked in the Red Room and then sent to boarding school at Lowood were meant to soften her, to make her grateful for the roof over her head. All it does is strengthen her sense of justice and although she learns to keep her opinions in check, those emotions are still simmering underneath. When she takes a position as governess to a French girl called Adele at Thornfield Hall, the book becomes more than a Bildungsroman and develops into a Gothic mystery, a genre I love to this day. The scenes where Jane hears noises in the passageway at night, she hears a maniacal laugh and finds a half burned candle left behind, then when a dark, demonic woman enters Jane’s bedroom and tears her wedding veil in two, are truly frightening. Added to this is the dark and mysterious Mr Rochester who appears out of the mist on a black horse and finds solace in the quiet Jane who can keep up with his intellect and doesn’t bow to his demands. Now if a book has a stately home, a mystery to solve, the paranormal and a feminist heroine it’s in my basket straight away.
I bought this novel for the cover alone when I saw it in Lindum Books. I now have six copies in different styles and I love them all. I’ve seen the novel described as phantasmagorical and I could apply this word to a whole raft of books I’ve read since. Outside London, in an undefined historical setting, a wandering and magical circus appears where many of the attractions defy explanation. As well as disappearing and reappearing at will, the circus is the focus of a competition played by two powerful magicians through their protégés Marcus and Celia. The great magician Prospero and his rival Mr A.H. have chosen their players and proceed to create magical challenges for the younger pair, but this is a secret competition and neither one knows they are rivals. Celia is Prospero’s daughter and he has trained her as an illusionist, using cruel and manipulative methods. Marcus is trained to create fantastical scenes for the circus that he must pluck out of his mind. As soon as they’re both of age they are linked to the circus, not knowing their competitor but becoming increasingly suspicious that they’re present at the Circus of Dreams. Meanwhile, other performers start to question the circus and its magical powers – they are forever young and unable to leave. The beauty of the circus seems to mask sinister intent and as Celia resolves to end this game, she and Marco fall in love. Is this love doomed or can they escape without causing further harm. This book inspires artists and creatives all over the world and it captures my imagination every time I pick it up for a re-read.
As someone with a disability, a heroine with a ‘hare’ or cleft lip was a real find in a book that had really passed me by until around twenty years ago. The author Mary Webb was writing in the early 20th Century but her heroine Pru Sarn lives in rural Shropshire at the beginning of the 19th Century. Local suspicion is that Pru’s mother was scared by a hare during pregnancy, causing the disfigurement she calls her ‘precious bane’. Bad luck starts to dog the family when Pru’s father dies and there is no ‘sin eater’ at the funeral. Superstition states that someone must take on the deceased’s sins so that they’re ensured a place in heaven. Despite all his family’s please not to, Pru’s brother steps forward to take on those sins and from that point on their luck changes. Gideon goes from an affable young man, in love with the prettiest local girl Janis Beguildy and set to take on the family farm, to a bitter and avaricious individual who drives his own family into exhaustion in the pursuit of money. Meanwhile, Pru falls in love with Kester Woodseaves, the weaver at Jancis’s bridal celebration but there’s nothing that would make him look at her twice with her lip and the ill luck that goes with it. This is a story rich with local folklore and old skills that are slowly dying out in rural communities. It’s also about how those superstitions can drive people to look for blame and how women like Pru can become scapegoats for a bad wheat crop. Billed as a writer of romance there’s a lot more to Mary Webb’s work and her challenge to the stereotype of facial disfigurement representing evil is definitely ahead of his time.
I loved this book from Alice Hoffman so much, because it has all the Hoffman magic but is set within the Coney Island freak shows at the turn of the 20th Century, something I researched while writing my dissertation on disability and literature. I’d watched the film Freaks and was fascinated with the complexities of displaying your extraordinary body for money. It’s exploitative yet on the other hand it pays well and is perhaps the performer’s only way of being independent, these contradictions are shown in this novel following Coralie Sardie the daughter of the Barnum- like impresario of the museum. Coralie is an incredible swimmer and performs as the museum’s mermaid, enduring punishing all year round training in the East River every morning. It’s after one of these sessions goes wrong that Coralie is washed far upstream into the outskirts of NYC where development suddenly gives way to wild forests. There she meets Eddie Cohen who is taking pictures of the trees and hiding out from his own community, where his father’s expectation is for him to train as a tailor in the family business. Alice Hoffman weaves Eddie and Coralie’s story with real historic events like the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, the other wonders who populate Coney Island and her particular blend of magic.
This must appear on so many ‘best of’ lists and there’s a good reason why. I was introduced to Daphne Du Maurier very early in life through my mum who showed me the Hitchcock adaptation of the novel starring Laurence Olivier as Maxim de Wjinter and Joan Fontaine as the second Mrs de Winter. This was an incredible film and no adaptation since has come close to emulating it, although I still hold out hope for a Carey Mulligan Mrs de Winter someday. This has one of the best openings of any book with its dream of the winding drive at the Cornish home of the de Winters, Manderley setting the atmosphere perfectly. This is where ghosts and secrets lurk beneath the outwardly perfect life led by Max and his beautiful first wife Rebecca. Our unnamed narrator is in Monte Carlo as a paid companion to an obnoxious rich woman who sees the infamous widower and an opportunity to hear some first hand gossip to take with them to their next destination. Her companion is young, quiet and under confident. She has no family and is vulnerable in a way that I’d didn’t see when I first read the book and the disparity between them is more obvious the older I get. One thing that really angers me is that Maxim doesn’t bother to remove traces of his ex-wife whose extravagant signature is emblazoned on the stationery in the morning room and her pillowcases in the untouched bedroom she occupied overlooking the sea. Also he doesn’t even consider that her upbringing is from such a different class, she has no concept of how to run a stately home and falls victim to the ghoulish Mrs Danvers, Rebecca’s old maid and now the housekeeper of Manderley. This is most definitely not a love story, it’s a mystery with a hero who is controlling and manipulative to his new wife. This is a book to re-read over and over.
A spiteful spirit rules the roost at the home runaway slave Sethe shares with her elderly mother-in-low and daughter Denver, a ghost that haunts with a ‘baby’s venom’. It’s a million miles away from her years in slavery at Sweet Home, but she carries the damage of those years in the whip marks on her back that look like a gnarled tree. The atmosphere of this little house is set to change though as two visitors come calling; one is Paul D who was also at Sweet Home and shares so many experiences with Sethe she will have to talk about them. The second is a naked young woman who seems almost non-verbal, like a toddler in the body of a young woman. Sethe is entranced by their guest, who demands more and more of her attention pushing out Denver and trying to create a wedge between her and Paul D who has to sleep in the outhouse. Sethe believes that this girl is the embodiment of that restless spirit in the house, who has gone remarkably quiet. While Sethe becomes drained and exhausted trying to care for her new charge. What is her purpose with Sethe and why does she take the treatment meted out to her? The answers lie in a grave marked with one word – Beloved – and the unthinkable price of freedom.
This book was the first of two featuring the Todd family and their lives across the 20th Century. Here we see the world through the eyes of the Todd’s youngest daughter Ursula, born on a snowy night in 1910. As her mother Sylvia gives birth, the cord becomes wrapped around Ursula’s neck and she dies before the doctor can even reach their home. We then loop back and Ursula survives her birth but dies from a fall as she leans from a window to retrieve her doll, or she dies by drowning as a little girl. In 1918 their maid joins the Victory Day celebrations post WWI and brings Spanish Flu to the Todd house killing Ursula at eight years old. Each loop of Ursula’s life is longer and we see more of the family’s rather upper middle class life in Chalfont St. Peter in Buckinghamshire. We notice that Ursula becomes more knowing, taking experiences from her extinguished lives to avoid that fate the next time round – at one point she remembers her death at the hands of a rapist and next time is aggressively rude to avoid his company so she lives a little longer. Later lives take Ursula into womanhood and WW2, working for the war office in London and experiencing the terrors of the Blitz, sometimes rescuing others and other times perishing underneath the rubble. Eventually she works her way close to Hitler through Eva Braun and determines to end the war by killing him. What we never know is how these lives turn out for others, as each narrative ends definitively with Ursula’s death. I loved Kate Atkinson’s bravery and playfulness in using such a complex structure and inventing a character like Ursula who is able to carry the novel on her shoulders. I’ve enjoyed other novels from the author, especially A God in Ruins where we follow the life of her brother Teddy, but there’s no question that this book is her masterpiece.
I’ve read a few of Thomas Hardy’s novels, but something about Far From The Madding Crowd stays with me. At heart it’s a love story, with all the obstacles and diversions you’d expect from the moment shepherd Gabriel Oak turns up at Bathsheba Everdene’s door with a lamb for her to hand rear and a proposal. A proposal she refuses on the basis that she has a lot of other things she wants to do. After this a terrible misfortune befalls Gabriel as he loses his whole flock to a young sheepdog who drives them off the cliffs. However this does force him to cross paths with Bathsheba a second time when he goes for a job where the new farm owner is a woman. Bathsheba makes so many rash decisions, especially where men are concerned, but Gabriel becomes her trusted and loyal friend. As always with Hardy it’s the misfortunes that tug hard on the heartstrings: a pregnant servant girl who goes to marry her soldier lover at the wrong church, the tragic and lonely Mr. Boldwood who takes a poorly timed Valentine joke to heart and Gabriel’s faithfulness to his friend, always putting her first even when she doesn’t appreciate it. Hardy captures the headstrong and impulsive young girl beautifully and as always the rural setting is so wonderfully drawn and strangely restful to read. Having grown up on farms my whole life I understand the character’s connection to the land and the animals they care for, plus I always long for a happier ending than Hardy’s other women.
It’s hard to pick one favourite from Jodi Picoult’s back catalogue and I have about four that I love and read again, including her most recent novel about the works of Shakespeare By Any Other Name, Small Great Things and Plain Truth. This one stayed with me, perhaps because of my late in-laws WW2 experiences and the realisation that the generation who went through the invasion of Poland first hand will one day be gone. Recording their stories is vital and although this is fiction it still has a purpose, in educating readers about the Holocaust. Ironically, it has been banned in several school districts in the US despite its message on fascism and antisemitism. It makes it all the more important to read it as well as Picoult’s other banned novels. Sage Singer is something of a recluse, working nights in her local bakery to avoid people. She wears her hair to cover a large scar across her cheek, caused by a car accident that killed her mother. Sage sees her scar as a reminder she was responsible for her mother’s death and struggles terribly with survivor’s guilt and the resulting lack of self worth. When she attends a grief therapy group she meets an elderly local man called Josef Weber, a resident of Westerbrook for forty years with his wife who has recently died. He’s known for kind acts around town, but as he and Page become friends he tells her a terrible secret. In WW2 he was a guard at Auschwitz and is responsible for the deaths of many people. He asks Sage to help him commit suicide, leaving her with a dilemma. Sage describes her self as an atheist despite coming from a religious Jewish family. Can she be friend with this man? Should she report her discovery? Should Josef be able to cheat the death God has planned for him when so many others had no choice? Picoult structures this narrative like a set of Russian dolls and the very centre is the story of Minka, Sage’s grandmother who managed to survive a concentration camp. This is the heart of the story, a survivor’s account that describes how an SS Guard allowed her rewards of food and warmth because of her incredible talent as a storyteller. This is a hard but vital read with huge dilemmas around forgiveness, the degree of bad deeds and whether all sin is the same. Are some people simply unforgivable despite their attempts to change? Is accepting earthly punishment part of forgiveness? Is killing ever justified? It is absolutely spellbinding.
I adore the playful opening of this historical novel as our heroine addresses us and draws us in to her world, a version of London rarely examined at the time. Published in 2002, Michael Faber introduces us to Sugar who has worked in a brothel since she was thirteen. She’s creative and intelligent, scribbling down her story in the time she has between working. She’s also streetwise and determined to create a new life for herself. She meets the rather clumsy and awkward William Rackham as a client. He’s married but his wife Agnes is delicate, a fragile Victorian ideal of a wife who’s disturbed by her own bodily functions. She’s sent further into decline after the birth of their daughter, Sophie and now has no idea she is a mother. She is kept drugged in her room, with visits from the creepy Dr. Curlew whose treatment is sexual assault. The two women couldn’t be more of a contrast. Sugar believes that William might be her ticket to a new life, not that she’s in love with him of course. William is a selfish man, inadequate and under pressure to continue the success of the family soap factory, a business built by his overbearing father. He’s obsessed with Sugar and thinks he could have the object of his affections closer to home. What if he engaged Sugar as Sophie’s governess? This is an incredibly well written novel, full of detail on a grubby and exploitative part of London that Sugar navigates with practised skill, utterly reliant on her own wits. She’s a beguiling character who knows that the gentlemanly ideal is a facade and that all men are disappointing or dangerous. Watching her encroach onto William’s carefully constructed home life is fascinating and you’ll be desperately hoping that all of his women will find a way of escaping their fates.
While I was in the water swimming ‘gainst tides we′re taught to
Take it in our stride, laugh it off, take it on the chin just right
Don’t be too loud or too quiet, but I got all this fight
And now I see it clear with every passing of each year
I deserve to be here
And every time I fall, I crawl back like an animal
My focus is powerful.”
I knew I was going to love Self Esteem when I first caught her set at Glastonbury a few years ago, referencing 1990 Madonna with her black suit and corset. What made me stop and watch was that instead of the iconic John Paul Gaultier conical bra each breast was covered with the dome of Meadowhall Shopping Centre in Sheffield. At that point I didn’t know that Rebecca Lucy Taylor was born there but I could see she had a sense of humour, a sense of where she was from and had something very powerful to say as the above lyrics from her song Focus to Power show. In the intervening years Self Esteem has become a creative force with three solo albums, including A Complicated Woman this year. She had a Mercury Prize nomination for her album Prioritise Pleasure in 2022 and was the BBC Music Introducing act in 2021. She is not just a singer, she’s a multi-instrumentalist and has composed for theatre and became a West End lead in 2023/24 playing Sally Bowles in Cabaret. She’s been awarded an honorary doctorate in music from the University of Sheffield and a portrait of her hangs in the National Gallery. Now she has written a memoir, bringing together notes and lyrics, journal entries and observations on life as a woman in the 21st Century, referencing relationships, abuse, self-worth, creativity and living under the weight of the impossible expectations we impose on young women. The blurb refers to it as a ‘subversive anti-Bible’ and a ‘cathartic scream of a book’ and it is raw, emotional and so incredibly exposing. I will be buying it for my stepdaughters.
The narrative is jagged and feels unfinished, a structure that underlines the theme of being the ‘finished’ article something that applies to both the professional and personal self. Creative work never feels fully done. I always imagined that when writing a book I would know when it was complete and I would feel satisfied that it was finished. A piece of writing is always open to change, but we have to let it go at some point and finishing is a collaborative process with mentors, agents, editors and might end up looking different to what you expected. Similarly as people we are never finished, the self is not one fixed thing and can be influenced by mood, something we watched, whether we slept well or not and interactions with others. I think we imagine as children that there’s a point where we become an adult and our self is a fixed thing, but the self is fluid and open to change until the last day we’re alive. The author writes that she wakes up knowing it’s going to be a day when her brain is against her. So out of all the options open she decides on the middle ground:
‘Ultimately doing nothing garnished by a little of what I as a child imagined being an adult would be. A coffee in a cafe, walk to the cinema, watch an art house film alone, walk home.’
It’s almost a fake it till you make it idea. The self is just a raw block of clay but we still go out there, pretending to do what we think adults should.
Self Esteem at Glastonbury 2022
Toxic relationships are also a huge part of the book and it’s clear there was one in particular that was coercive and damaging. Tiny little snippets of information are dropped about him and I identified strongly with how she feels at these times. She addresses him remembering that: ‘ he made sure to take at least two pieces of jigsaw and hide them so it could finish it himself.’ It made me shiver with recognition. My heart broke for her in this paragraph:
“I’ll never forget the first time it cracked and he became someone else. I spent that night trying to sleep on the floor and reaching back up to him in his single bed, sleeping soundly. Offering my hand over and over through the night. – And forever he held back. Each tendon in his fingers finally gracing me with tension. And in that moment the sickness in my stomach was gone and the addiction to his acceptance began.”
She clearly spent years trying to please this person, to be enough but not too much. Enough in the right way that was acceptable to him. A rollercoaster of arguments followed by apologies to make things nice again, a blissful few weeks when he’s happy because she made herself smaller, then a withdrawal of affection, hurtful comments and arguments. It’s a place I’ve been and it only ended when I accepted I was enough, just as I was. I still feel sick to my stomach when something takes me back there and this really hit home. As she says, ‘tell me anyone who left when they should have.’ She also addresses the inevitable question of children, something women are always asked and I have noticed that I make a lot more sense to some friends now I have stepdaughters. The author wishes she could just have one, now, not because she wants one just because it would be done and people would stop asking. They ask as if you’ve forgotten to do it. There’s a point in the book though where change begins and it’s in a letter, because unsent letters have such power. It’s a letting go leaving the path clear to be whatever.
We get the sense of a person who has a huge and imaginative inner world, but is hampered by her own mind throwing out options, constantly questioning whether this or that is the right thing to do. There’s a very busy internal critic here and while the author may be an over-thinker and struggle with anxiety, I think this second-guessing herself is a habit many women have. It starts with parental pressures of what a girl should be, educational expectations influenced by gender, societal expectations of what an adult woman should want and how successful she should be. It’s as if feminism succeeded in giving women more choice, but also more expectations rather than equality. Yes of course we can have a career, but then you must go home and more than a fair share of housework, cooking, laundry and having the mental load of who eats what, which week a friend is coming to stay and an encyclopaedic knowledge of where every object belonging each family member might be found. On top of that are grooming standards, the endless opinions on whether women should age naturally or have surgery, when they should stop wearing short skirts and how to keep their sex lives spicy. No one asks a man when he’s going to fit in having a child or whether he should sacrifice his career for his family. This pressure is described beautifully here as it runs throughout the narrative alongside the extra pressures of being creative and a famous woman. Everyone talks about America Ferrarra’s speech in the Barbie film about what a woman is but I find the author’s words much more affecting as she writes a poem about herself as the woman she feels society wants her to be. A woman who eats the right things, who makes money but stays generous and humble, who is modern and desirable, but above all things maternal. It reads like a modern fairy tale.
‘I had one thousand friends and each and every one was happy with me, and felt I had given them enough time and attention’.
It feels like slicing yourself into a thousand different pieces to be everything and keep everyone happy and they all think you’re amazing, but you’re still slicing yourself. It takes therapy, age and self-acceptance to throw off these expectations and doubts. In amongst this torrent of emotions there is a down to earth feel and a sense of humour that comes out a lot in lists – ‘things I should have said no to’ being one. There are also blunt truths that she clearly can’t say to the person but records in her diary – ‘I want to be fucked like that but not have to hear about your Edinburgh show.” I loved this directness, tempered with humour. It also shows how hard it can be for some women to say what they want and don’t want without judgement.
She gives us an insight into how those judgements are magnified in the music industry, where you’re trying to get your creative work out there but are being told you’d sell better if you wrote a certain way or were a bit more attractive. If she’d compromised she’d have a record deal by now, she’s told, why is she so difficult? This is a tale we’ve heard again and again in the music industry but it has to keep being said till something changes. We’ve heard it from the incredible Raye who wrote for other people for years because her own stuff didn’t fit in a specific box, or Cat Burns who writes about how difficult it is to know how to be the human everyone expects. Paloma Faith is an incredible inspiration and I watched a clip of her speaking to students at the university graduation. She has delved into music, fashion, writing, broadcasting and art and she passed on an incredible bit of advice – she has always been brimming with ideas and would worry that she couldn’t fix on one way to get these thoughts and ideas out there. She remembered a conversation with one of the tutors who said she didn’t have to fit all of her ideas into one mould. One idea might be a brilliant book, rather than trying to condense it into a song but another might be better suited to fashion or art. She didn’t have to fit into one mould. I think Rebecca is the embodiment of that idea, brim full of ideas and happy to range across music gigs, theatre shows, dance, tv appearances and memoir writing. The point is the creativity, not the medium.
I can think of so many women who can take something from this book and it will sit happily up on my shelf with writing from Caitlin Moran and Paloma Faith, hugely creative and intelligent women with a lot to say. It renewed something I’ve been wrestling with in my own head now I’m hitting menopause and middle age – it’s ok not to ‘grow up’ but take joy in every new incarnation of yourself and the changes it brings. It’s subversive in a world where we’re told we should be striving to stay young and relevant. to be unhappy getting older. I found so much inspiration in this memoir, both personal and creative, as well as a wonderful feeling of being seen.
The haunting final chapter to an award-winning series…
And a final reckoning…
With the fate of her missing sister, Ísafold, finally uncovered, Áróra feels a fragile relief as the search that consumed her life draws to a close. But when Ísafold’s boyfriend – the prime suspect in her disappearance – is found dead at the same site where Ísafold’s body was discovered, Áróra’s grip on reality starts to unravel … and the mystery remains far from solved. To distract herself, she dives headfirst into a money-laundering case that her friend Daníel is investigating. But she soon finds that there is more than meets the eye and, once again, all leads point towards Engihjalli, the street where Ísafold lived and died, and a series of shocking secrets that could both explain and endanger everything…
I’ve been hooked on the story of Áróra and the case of her missing sister Ísafold for a few years now and the tension has slowly gripped me ever tighter as each novel has brought its revelations. With her disappearance being the reason Àrora is in Iceland, it’s always been the over-arching narrative, with other cases running alongside. The combination of Áróra’s skills as a financial investigator plus the skills and powers of Daniel and Helena who are detectives, means complex cases are profiled and attacked from different directions, making them a formidable team. We’re back with everyone after the discovery of Ísafold’s body in a suitcase deep within a fissure in a lava field. They were directed to it by an unusual little girl who claimed to be the reincarnation of Ísafold, something that was difficult for Daniel to accept. As Áróra’s boyfriend, his hackles were raised particularly with her parents who he suspected of feeding ideas and information to their daughter with the aim of deceiving them. But what possible motive could they have? As we meet our characters again, Áróra occasionally has the urge to go back and visit the family, but there’s been nothing new from her reincarnated sister for some time as if the thread that bound them has broken or the little girl’s age means the channel that was open between this life and the next has now closed. With Bjorn found in the same fissure as Ísafold many new questions are thrown up. Not least the one aspect of Ísafold’s death has remained a secret up till now. Daniel doesn’t know how to tell Áróra that her sister’s body was found without a heart.
There’s so much to understand here and we get the narrative through different viewpoints, not just from Áróra, Daniel and his colleague Helena. One narrator named Felix has fallen into working for a local dealer and we see his fear as the bag he was sent to collect disappears from the car while he’s getting some food. This theft draws his ties to this man ever closer, with no real chance of escape. There are also flashbacks to the last few months Ìsafold was alive and we finally hear the story in her own voice, which I loved. There’s a lot of crossover between these two narratives in terms of control and manipulation. The means used to tie Felix to the drugs gang are diabolical, making sure he ‘owes’ the boss and keeping him firmly onside. On one hand the boss demands total loyalty from its operatives but on the other he uses treachery to keep everyone in their place. Bjorn’s treatment of Ísafold feels even worse, because this is someone is supposed to love her. We have always known that Ísafold’s partner was violent, in fact Áróra’s guilt about her sister is based around their last phone call when for the first time Áróra decided not to run to her sister’s aid. The downstairs neighbour Grimur had also testified to the violence his neighbour suffered, but hearing it from the victim adds another layer to the narrative. We can feel how vulnerable Ísafold is and the tenderness Bjorn treats her with from time to time, that glimmer of a meaningful connection he drip feeds to her guarantees her forgiveness again and again. Almost more than the violence I hated that he took away her only bit of independence by making her leave the job she loved, to work with elderly people. At first it’s a suggestion, then he flatters her by saying how good she would be in a caring role, but the truth is he wants to coerce her into stealing their drugs. There’s a realisation that Bjorn is a low level dealer, just doing enough to get by but slowly coming to the attention of the bigger players who feel their territory has been encroached upon. Could this be the beginning of the end for the couple?
The tense and twisty parts narrative also follows Daniel’s investigation into a local coffee chain, where every barista seems to tell customers that their other sites are busier. What he finds is a company with a large turnover but no real evidence of where that money is coming from. None of their shops are in tourist areas and they seem to take a large amount in cash, an unusual thing these days. He also finds a couple of complaints from the director’s home of criminal damage, that they later chose not to pursue. This seems like a case where Áróra’s financial skills could be utilised and she throws herself into it, with dangerous consequences. This is where the couple work so well together, although there’s a recklessness to Áróra that Daniel finds difficult. He would never get in her way, she’s tough and quite capable of looking after herself physically but it’s in his nature to worry about those he cares for. He knows that her weight training and work are her ways of sublimating her frustration that she still doesn’t have all the answers about her sister. With Helena currently working the case he has a choice to make, if answers come does he let Helena break the truth to her, or does he choose to do that himself? Although he could have the chance to comfort and support her as he’s wanted, will she let him? Or will he always be the man who told her the harshest and most painful truth she will ever hear?
We’ve always had suspicions but have never known who killed Ísafold. The novel is gripping and of course we want this mystery resolved, but I didn’t feel any of that racing tension or triumph that I often get from thrillers when the killer’s revealed. This was just so desperately sad. I found myself taking a moment for this under confident woman who was so far out of her depth. A woman whose emotions dictated her life decisions. I was horrified and had that strange empty feeling of loss. A loss I knew Áróra would feel. The question is, if she does get all the answers she needs, what will Áróra do next? Unlike her sister Áróra has a clear sense of what she wants and needs in order to be happy and fulfilled. She makes decisions based on self-knowledge and it remains to be seen whether Daniel is a part of that eventual happiness. This has been an incredible series from the author, combining a good mystery with real intelligence and depth of emotion played out on a bleak and forbidding landscape.
Out now from Orenda Books
Meet the Author
Icelandic crime writer Lilja Sigurðardóttir was born in the town of Akranes in 1972 and raised in Mexico, Sweden, Spain and Iceland. An award-winning playwright, Lilja has written eleven crime novels, including Snare, Trap and Cage, making up the Reykjavík Noir trilogy, and her standalone thriller Betrayal, all of which have hit bestseller lists worldwide. Snare was longlisted for the CWA International Dagger, Cage won Best Icelandic Crime Novel of the Year and was a Guardian Book of the Year, and Betrayal was shortlisted for the prestigious Glass Key Award and won Icelandic Crime Novel of the Year. The film rights for the Reykjavík Noir trilogy have been bought by Glassriver. Cold as Hell, the first book in the An Áróra Investigation series, was published in the UK in 2021 and was followed by Red as Blood, White as Snow and Dark as Night. TV rights to theseries have been bought by Studio Zentral in Germany. Lilja lives in Reykjavík with her partner and a brood of chickens.
I can barely contain my happiness at being back in the world of Jimmy Perez, this time in the Orkney islands where he grew up. Jimmy is living with partner Willow Reeves, who’s both his boss and heavily pregnant with his child. It’s Christmas and the couple are looking forward to the celebrations. Jimmy’s stepdaughter Cassie is spending the holidays with her father Duncan and his family on Shetland, so it just the two of them and son James. For the police, Christmas isn’t a holiday and as a huge storm passes across the islands, terrible discoveries are made. Everywhere there’s storm damage, but when a body is found at an ancient archaeological site Jimmy is devastated to find out it’s his childhood friend Archie Stout. Archie is a well known ‘larger than life’ character who’s the centre of every gathering and runs the family farm with a wife and two teenage sons. Jimmy finds that Archie has suffered a blow to the head and the murder weapon is a Neolithic stone covered in ancient runes and Viking graffiti, one of a pair taken from the heritage centre. Now Willow and Jimmy must investigate their friends and neighbours to solve the murder in the run up to Christmas, where events will traditionally bring the whole island together. The uncomfortable truth is that the murderer is likely to be someone they know and that means nobody is safe.
Jimmy always comes across as someone who’s very still, the listener rather than the talker and the exact opposite of Archie and perhaps that’s why they became friends when they boarded at secondary school, something that all the islanders doat that age. Only the reader and perhaps Willow know the depth of feeling that runs underneath Jimmy’s calm exterior. We are privileged in knowing the depth of his grief for his previous partner Fran, the mother of his stepdaughter Cassie. I’ve always loved the way Duncan and Jimmy co-parent Cassie after Fran made it clear she wanted Jimmy to be the resident parent. He’s also dad to James and we can see the love and the anxiety he has about both his children, brought to a head when James becomes lost on Christmas Day. Part of him hates delving into the private lives of people he’s so close too, but then his knowledge and understanding of this small community is also a strength. He finds out things he didn’t know about his friend: an unexpected relationship with an island newcomer; a secret investment in the hotel and bar; financial difficulties at the farm. The killer made a point with their choice of weapon because they managed to get access to the heritage centre then lugged the stones to the murder site. But what was the point? Did they think Archie was betraying the community or the history of the islands? Is the inscription a clue? To have lured Archie out to such a remote spot in a storm means the site or the weapon must have been important to him.
Anne Cleeves creates a beautiful atmosphere in this novel, her descriptions of this series of islands are both beautiful and savage, echoing its residents who are inextricably linked to each other and their shared ancestry. The storm really sets the scene of just how remote this community is and how they must pull together to get through difficulties, even where they don’t like each other. Each of the families are living history, something you can hear when Jimmy and Willow interview people and they have an encyclopaedic knowledge of several generations of other island families. Each generation has been at school together, worked together, attended each other’s weddings and celebrated the birth of the next generation. Archie’s father Magnus was an amateur historian and archivist, with a box of his research in the heritage centre. Even his looks hark back to a time when Vikings invaded the islands with his blonde hair and stature a stark contrast to Jimmy’s dark hair and Spanish eyes, thought to be a throwback to an Armada ship blown off course and it’s sailors who settled in Orkney. The different celebrations that lead up to Christmas show these different influences from the Christian carol service at the cathedral, to The Ba on Christmas Day and then Shetland’s Up Helly Aa in January. James’s determination to watch Archie’s sons participate in The Ba shows how the upcoming generations are inspired to take part just as their forefathers did in their predestined teams of the Uppies and Doonies. It’s best described as a game of ‘mob football’, something very like the Haxey Hood that takes place on 6th January with two teams trying to get their hands on a leather hood and take it back to one of two pubs in the village in the Isle of Axholme. My dad and his father before him participated in the Hood as young men and it’s still Christmas until Twelfth Night in our family. The author also uses this history to highlight tension between generations, those who leave and those who stay, those who participate and those who don’t, islanders and incomers. This tension also exists over development on the island and those trying to keep a balance between respecting the past, but also providing projects to employ newer generations. Incomers who use islanders to further their own agenda or make money will be made unwelcome.
I really loved Willow and the atmosphere she creates at home, particularly around Christmas. Just as dedicated to her work as Jimmy she takes an active role in the investigation, her pregnancy not holding her back at all. She knows it’s a delicate situation, working together and being in a relationship, especially when she’s the boss. Somehow they manage to keep the personal and the work life separate and she seems to know which responsibilities she must let Jimmy bear and those she’s happy to share. As Christmas Eve approaches fast she’s not running around like a headless chicken trying to make sure they have all the right things, they have food and she points out something I say every year – the shops are only closed for one day. It’s the traditions and being together that are the most important thing. She’s a great interviewer though, brilliant at picking up what people are not saying. She reads their body language and their tone, plus knowing each islander’s history helps too. What she picks up on are the unexpected or secret alliances, such as Archie’s investment in the hotel or his in-law’s apparent friendship with a regularly visiting academic. The case is fascinating, covering potential adultery, family tensions, environmental disagreements and historical conflicts, as well as academic jealousy. As everyone gathers on Christmas Day for The Ba and someone goes missing, my nerves were like violin strings! It’s this gradually rising tension alongside the beautifully drawn relationships that make Anne Cleeves’s novels. Jimmy has always had incredible empathy for others, feeling his own loss alongside theirs and understanding behaviour that might at first glance seem inexplicable. This is a hugely welcome return for Jimmy, both in a different landscape and place in life. Hopefully it’s the first of many.
Meet the Author
Ann Cleeves is the author of more than thirty-five critically acclaimed novels, and in 2017 was awarded the highest accolade in crime writing, the CWA Diamond Dagger. She is the creator of popular detectives Vera Stanhope, Jimmy Perez and Matthew Venn, who can be found on television in ITV’s Vera, BBC One’s Shetland and ITV’s The Long Call respectively. The TV series and the books they are based on have become international sensations, capturing the minds of millions worldwide.
Ann worked as a probation officer, bird observatory cook and auxiliary coastguard before she started writing. She is a member of ‘Murder Squad’, working with other British northern writers to promote crime fiction. Ann also spends her time advocating for reading to improve health and wellbeing and supporting access to books. In 2021 her Reading for Wellbeing project launched with local authorities across the North East. She lives in North Tyneside where the Vera books are set.
Defending free expression has become a challenge. Words seem to matter more than ever and their impact. Just having an X account in the past week has been painful if you have empathy. It’s a battle for control where the desperate need to counter someone’s post, fights with common sense. By replying, even if it’s scathing, we have entered the arena and boosted that person’s profile. On the other side there are more people taking offence, on their own behalf and on the behalf of others. In this endless spiral of offence and discrimination it can be easy to become apathetic. It’s a political strategy the Kremlin has been using for years, bombard the people with so much opinion and disinformation that they become completely overwhelmed and withdraw. In this war of words, art is a form of activism, said the publisher Crystal Mahey-Morgan in an interview published online this week and as more books seemingly disappear from schools and libraries in America, we have to think carefully about the books we fight for. If we’re asserting that all books matter, then that applies equally to the books we like and those we don’t. If we’re saying books that offend others can’t be banned, we’re fighting equally for books we find distasteful or are offended by. There are books I rather not have read – there were definitely parts of American Psycho I could have done without, but I would never say they shouldn’t exist. Yet we seem to be stuck in a world where various groups in society want to ban or cancel books that don’t align with their views or misrepresent them. Even the writer’s behaviour, political views and private life can contribute to the moral panic around their work and our permission to read them. J.K. Rowling is a case in point and the controversy extends to her Robert Galbraith books which I still read. I grew up a long time before the internet and the cancel culture and I know that my ability to separate art from the artist is frowned upon. I want to talk to you about one of my favourite banned books and it’s the one people remember most – Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D.H.Lawrence.
An adaptation of Lady Chatterley’s Lover has come to Netflix, where streamed shows are probably the 21st Century’s most popular creator of water cooler moments. The fact that this banned story is there for everyone to watch in their own homes would have shocked the 1960’s general public. The story is a simple one, about a young married woman (Connie Chatterly) and her husband’s gamekeeper (Oliver Mellors), and the forbidden love between them. First published privately in 1928, it took until 1959 for a ban on the book to be lifted in the U.S., and then 1960 when an uncensored version was published in the United Kingdom. Lawrence’s novel was also banned for obscenity in Canada, Australia, India, and Japan. People were genuinely shocked by the explicit descriptions of sex, use of four-letter words, and depiction of a relationship between an upper-class woman and a working-class man. To my mind, the most outrageous part of the book was the author’s portrayal of female sexual pleasure. In fact, Sean Bean’s ‘we came off together that time m’lady’ still lives rent free in my head. Maybe that’s because I spent most of the 1990’s dreaming, like the Vicar of Dibley, that Sean would come striding in and say ‘come on lass’ beckoning me with a single nod towards the door. I believed in him and Joely Richardson as those characters in the Ken Loach adaptation, more so than many others I’ve seen. Although I do have memory of going to see a more explicit French version of the book, wedged between a group of elderly ladies who gasped every time they saw a penis and a man who had a large bag of sweets that he would rummage in, very forcefully, at certain parts of the film. I moved seats in the interval.
Once I’d read the book, in my teens, I hated the way people talked about it. In my dad’s family, any mention was met with raised eyebrows and Monty Python’s ‘a nudge is as good as a wink’ type of humour. My mum loved D.H.Lawrence and I could see it bothered her to have him relegated to the role of pornographer. My dad’s brothers didn’t have a single bookshelf back in the 1970s and still don’t. They would come to our house with its massive bookshelves and ask ‘have you read them all? It was a question I never really understood. Did they think we were bluffing? Mum let me plunder her bookshelves all the time and this is why I know it isn’t just a ‘dirty book’. If I wanted to read something dirty I’d go for her Jackie Collins, Judith Krantz or Lace by Shirley Conran. I never reached for this as a prurient read, because it isn’t about sex. It’s about love.
“Sexual intercourse began
In nineteen sixty-three
(Which was rather late for me) –
Between the end of the Chatterley ban
And the Beatles’ first LP.”
Wrote Larkin and perhaps that’s why my Uncles and Aunties raised their eyebrows, being teenagers pre-1960 and very unlikely to pick up a book by D.H. Lawrence. In fact once they’d seen the naked wrestling of the film adaptation Women in Love, they were convinced Lawrence was a pornographer. My mum happily shared these films with me as a teenager with no comment or explanation, she just let me make sense of it for myself and I knew there was something more complex at play here.
There is so much more to Lady Chatterley than the sex, although the sex is glorious and we’ll finish with that. Firstly it was fitting that when Penguin did publish in 1959 and challenged the previous year’s Obscene Publications Act, it was sold deliberately at a price that meant the working class and women could afford to buy it. Objections mainly came from the middle and upper classes, who weren’t necessarily concerned that Connie Chatterley committed adultery, but were objecting to her choice of lover. In fact it was this discrepancy between the classes that finally forced the court case, echoing the attitude of Clifford Chatterley. He was quite matter of fact about his wife taking a lover. He realised that his war injury would force Connie into a lifetime of celibacy and no chance of becoming a mother. He also wouldn’t have an heir. In one conversation he is quite open about the fact he doesn’t expect Connie’s fidelity, in fact he thought a lover might be the best thing for her. At least then they could have a child who would take on the title and estate. However, she was to choose someone from their class and he’d like to meet him. This turned Connie’s stomach for two reasons, she didn’t want to be passed from one Lord to another like a chattel and secondly she was shocked that Clifford didn’t seem to care. She’d expected there would still be some intimacy between them, even if it was confined to the care he needed. Yet, he chooses to employ a woman from the village who’s nursed during the war and there is something intimate in her care of him, something he gains some pleasure or comfort from. This leaves Connie free, but to do what. All their needs are taken care of by servants, she doesn’t need to work and while she does check in on tenants, they are isolated and she has few friends. She’s married and not married. She wants to find someone she has desire and feelings for, not just to jump in bed with someone of the right class and hope it scratches an itch. She wants true intimacy and she has that with Mellors. What we’re seeing in this affair is the breakdown of the aristocracy after WW1 and in this love story is the mixing of different social strata and the changing roles of women.
There’s also a massive shift for the working classes between the two World Wars. We see Clifford visit the colliery he owns and the workers are restless. They’ve been through terrible experiences on the battlefield and to come back and slot into their old social status, working under a man they’ve fought with in the trenches doesn’t sit right. They want better wages, better living standards and for the respect to work both ways. We can also see mechanisation creeping in. Clifford is ready to try anything new, whether it’s his new motorised bath chair or mechanising the pit. There’s an uncomfortable scene where Clifford uses his chair to walk with Connie in the grounds, but it becomes stuck in the mud. He angrily calls for Mellors to push the chair and he gamely tries to climb on the back and weigh it down enough for the wheels to grip. It’s a metaphor for the death of the aristocracy, all while Connie looks on awkwardly and Clifford becomes more and more frustrated.
Then there’s Connie and Mellors (Oliver) who are an interesting mix and their sexual tension is palpable but endearingly awkward at first. Mellors clearly desires her but doesn’t know how to treat a woman of her class. That’s not to say Mellors is stupid, because he isn’t. He’s self-taught and he reads too. Their conversations are on the same level as they get to know each other, but their dialect shows the huge difference socially and geographically. Connie has an openness that comes from being the daughter of an artist and it has always afforded her a huge amount of freedom. She and sister Hilda were expected to have lovers, to drive themselves around to parties and different stately homes. They have the opportunity to be upper class, particularly now that Connie is mistress of the Chatterley house, but are also eccentric and bohemian. They can use this to push the boundaries a little and Connie is encouraged to by her sister and her father when they visit near the beginning of the book, noticing she is pale, listless and a little depressed. They see the chasm that has opened up between husband and wife leaving them with the appearance of a marriage, but missing all the elements that make a marriage work – a shared humour, joint outlook, deep conversation and intimacy.
It’s no wonder that as Connie and Mellors think about a longer term relationship they know they’ll have to emigrate to somewhere new like the USA or Canada. These are the places where a relationship like theirs would be accepted. We see the incongruity of it in their early sex scenes where they move from intimacy to Mellors calling her m’lady because at the same time as being under him she will always be over him. There is tenderness between them, something more than sex. There’s real care and Mellors’s link to nature is important too, such as the first time they meet when he is placing pheasant chicks in their new enclosure. She sees a gentleness and a nurturing side that Clifford does not have. He would care if she was to be with another man and he wants to her to enjoy their encounters, not just him. When she does orgasm with him he comments on it and how special it is when that happens between a couple. He makes her feel safe. They have a joint childlike joy with nature, running around naked in the rain and threading wildflowers in each other’s pubic hair. He wants to be with her after the orgasm, which she hasn’t experienced before. I’m touched by this book and I’m infuriated that it was treated as pornography when it’s a comment on WW1, disability, masculinity, nature and so much more. It’s also a touching love story and you’ll root for this couple. They have an immediate connection, that goes beyond the boundaries of their class. They see each other as two equal human beings (an equality that Clifford disputes even exists) and recognise the loneliness in each other. Even if you do find the sex scenes awkward and you’ve never read this book due to its reputation, go give it a chance.
The political and religious climate in the USA has seen 16,000 book bans in public schools nationwide since 2021, a number not seen since the Red Scare McCarthy era of the 1950s. This censorship is being pushed by conservative groups of people, such as evangelical Christian and has spread to nearly every state. It targets books about race and racism or individuals of color and also books on LGBTQ+ topics as well those for older readers that have sexual references or discuss sexual violence. One of the most banned authors across America is Jodi Picoult with her novels Nineteen Minutes (school shootings), Small Great Things (Racism) and A Spark of Light (abortion). In the 2023-2024 school year, PEN America found more than 10,000 book bans affecting more than 4,000 unique titles. Here are a few of them:
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison and The Colour Purple by Alice Walker
Both these books are banned for themes of racism, sexual abuse and assault. Both break the silence around domestic violence and depict how tough life is for black women in the early 20th Century.
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood – the book that some people believe is coming to life before their eyes has themes of enslavement, sexual assault, misuse of religion and power. In a future where the elite class are unable to have children ‘handmaids’ are kept in the family home to provide the couple with children.
Call Me By Your Name by Andre Aciman – is a first love story that springs up between a teenager and an older man, cited for depictions of homosexuality
The Kite Runner by Khalid Hosseini – was put forward by a group of mums concerned about their children reading an account of ‘homosexual rape’ but Hosseini fought the ban with a letter that talked about the book’s insight into Afghan lives and inspired children to ‘desire to volunteer, learn more, be more tolerant of others, mend broken ties, muster the courage to do the right and just thing, no matter how difficult.’
Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult – begins with a black midwife assigned to a woman in early labour who is then refused by the father, a white supremacist. When the baby is ill and there is only one midwife available does she touch the baby or wait for someone else? This really does have impact and made me think about my own privilege.
Ruth Hogan is one of my cozy authors. These are books I read when I need comfort and boy did I need it last week. I’m having the kitchen renovated, not just new units but ripping out the floor and ceiling, putting in new joists and laying a floor that’s been so wonky I’ve tripped over it a couple of times. We’ve taken out an island that was hogging all the space and finally new units are slowly going in. I’ve been without a kitchen sink for a fortnight and my other half has wired the oven up in the garage so everything we cook has to be oven or microwave only and I keep meeting neighbours as I’m walking past with oven gloves and a tray of chicken kievs. I’m washing up in the bath tub (not while I’m in it) so this time last week I lost my marbles and we’ve been staying in a holiday cottage nearby for some quiet. So I’ve spent a lovely week being mostly unreachable, laying back in a huge bubble bath with a view, and reading my cozy books.
So let’s talk about the book which was a lovely oasis of calm in my personal chaos. It covered a subject close to my heart. My first job in mental health was as a support worker and since I lived in a small town I would often see clients I worked with on days off and even for years after I left. These were usually single people, living alone and only just managing to function with the basics. They were so isolated and when I stopped working I would volunteer at a local community centre twice a week to have a drop-in place for people struggling or feeling isolated. Sometimes though I would find out someone had died and if I wasn’t too late I would go to the funeral. However if someone is estranged from their family due to their mental health history and lived alone I wouldn’t always be able to find out when and where it was. I hated the idea of no one being there, so I immediately understood our main character George and where he was coming from. He has lost his wife Audrey and takes her flowers every week down at the cemetery. It’s there he meets Edwin, a local undertaker who appears to be lurking by the bins. He explains that he’s watching the new council worker responsible for the funerals of those who had died without family or funds of their own. Edwin is making sure that new recruit Niall knows what he’s doing and giving the person the reverence and dignity they can. George hates the idea of such a lonely send off with no one to witness your journey beyond this life. He muses about it and talks to his friends at the Dog and Duck pub where he goes to the quiz night. He would like to mark these funerals in some way so he invites Edwin to join his group at the pub for a chat. From a simple wish to be there for these send offs the Light a Candle Society is born.
Like all Ruth’s books this has a wonderful cast of interesting and quirky characters, many of whom do live alone. There’s Roxy, George’s friend and colleague from the library where he works part-time. She has an alternative look, with tattoos and piercings and is probably not the person you’d expect to be so close with an older widower. Slowly we’re drawn into their circle. There’s Elena from the florist who does George’s flowers for Audrey every week and would like to make a contribution to the funerals. There’s Captain and his dog Sailor, one of the library regulars who comes in and reads most days. He talks very little about himself, only seeming to warm up when people pet his canine companion. Then there’s Briony who works for the local paper and decided to write a piece about the funerals, something she can take to her rather dismissive and sneaky boss and show him she can write more than a few words about someone’s giant vegetable. Her downstairs neighbour Allegra is an absolute riot and I would have loved to be friends with her. She has led a rather colourful life and acts like a mentor to Briony, pushing her to trust her own instincts and talent. Briony needs her combination of feminism, cocktails and a kindly kick up the behind.
The funerals grow when Edwin tips George off about a house clearance firm, who log all the deceased belongings, sorting through them for valuables and taking them away to sell. He agrees to tip George off if he’s doing the house of someone who has no relatives or friends, allowing him to come to the house and get more of a sense of who they were. From there he can write a eulogy that matters and resonates with anyone who does come along unexpectedly. The author has created short chapters that take us back in that person’s life in between the main narrative, showing us a moment from their life and the sometimes devastating circumstances of their death. It’s a reminder that no matter who it is or how their lives have ended, we can’t judge because we haven’t lived their life or experienced the unique and sometimes traumatic circumstances they find themselves in. This resonated strongly with me having had clients with addictions and mental illnesses that have driven family away. I was so touched by one young man who had the dream and potential of become a professional footballer. I was also touched by Captain who slowly builds a relationship with Roxy for a very particular purpose. When we’re taken back into his life it explains completely why a man called Captain lived so far from the sea. I may have shed a tear or two there.
As the society grows it takes in people who would have otherwise been alone. There are younger people like Briony or Niall who have often moved to start a career they’ve longed for, but have to then make a life far away from home where they don’t know anyone. There are older people who have retired and perhaps lost their partner who have the time and the enthusiasm for the society. However the society is also a lifesaver for them, getting them out of the house and making new connections. They’ve needed to make friends and have a home from home like the Dog and Duck to meet new people and of course, come to quiz night. There are potential romances but they’re kept quite low key because they’re not the story’s focus. The focus is one friendship and how the society isn’t just honouring those who have died, it’s making sure that lonely people who might easily have become one of the statistics, are looked after. It made me think of people I’ve let go off in life. Those I’ve lost touch with when one of us has moved or has had a partner who isn’t keen on me or vice versa. It reminded me that when someone pushes you away, it might be the time when they need you the most.
Meet the Author
My new novel – THE LIGHT A CANDLE SOCIETY – is out in NOW! It’s about a man called George McGlory – recent widower, part-time librarian, pub quiz enthusiast and lover of loud shirts – who witnesses a public health funeral and is deeply moved by the sight of the lonely coffin with no flowers and no mourners in attendance. George believes that everyone deserves a decent send-off and decides to do something about what he calls these ‘lonely funerals’ – and so THE LIGHT A CANDLE SOCIETY is formed. The book contains a number of short stories which give a glimpse into the lives of those whom George and his friends take it upon themselves to honour and remember in their own unique way. Despite it being a story about funerals, it’s full of life, love, humour, community and human connections. And, of course, there is a very special dog!
THE PHOENIX BALLROOM, MADAME BUROVA, THE KEEPER OF LOST THINGS, THE WISDOM OF SALLY RED SHOES and QUEENIE MALONE’S PARADISE HOTEL – are out now in all formats.
I was brought up in a house full of books, and grew up with an unsurprising passion for reading and writing. I also loved (and still do) dogs and ponies, seaside piers (particularly the Palace Pier in Brighton) snow globes and cemeteries. And potatoes. So of course, I was going to be a vet, show jumper, or gravedigger. Or potato farmer.
The Lotus Readers 