On a cold night in a remote Irish village, a girl goes missing.
Sweet, loving Rachel Holohan was about to be engaged to the son of the local big shot. Instead, she’s dead in the river.
In a place like this, her death isn’t simple. It comes wrapped in generations-old grudges and power struggles, and it splits the townland in two. Retired Chicago detective Cal Hooper has friends here now and he owes them loyalty, but his fiancée Lena wants nothing to do with Ardnakelty’s tangles. As the feud becomes more vicious, their settled peace starts to crack apart. And when they uncover a scheme that casts a new light on Rachel’s death and threatens the whole village, they find themselves in the firing line.
This was a new series to me, but having read some of Tana French’s earlier novels such as In The Woods I knew it would be something I’d enjoy. I love her writing and here it is such a beautiful balancing act. This is a slow burn novel that’s beautifully atmospheric and manages to convey both moments of high humour and menacing evil. The small village of Ardnakelty is a quagmire. It’s described as gloomy, misty and wet most of the time. There’s something about the weather that’s oppressive and any walk outdoors is liable to leave you muddy and wet. It seems like a harmless place, but it’s full of pitfalls and weeds that can drag you under. The emotional quagmire is impossible to avoid if we look at it through Lena’s eyes. It is so remote, but anyone like Cal thinking they’ve come here for quiet and to avoid other people is in for a shock. He already has Trey, a teenage girl from a difficult family who is like an adopted daughter to him. How much more tied to this place might he become? Villages like this have one shop and one pub and everyone frequents them so eventually there’s a passing acquaintance with everyone. This is a place where neighbours are more like family. They’ve known each other forever, and their mothers knew your mother too. This could be seen as a bonus, but the author depicts it as spider’s web that once you’re stuck it’s impossible to escape. The only question is, who is the spider?
“The cloud is high tonight, letting through a haze of moonlight here and there so that streaks of fields rise ghostly out of the darkness and the air has an icy bite that burrows to the bone.”
The plot reveals itself slowly and once Cal and Trey find the body of local teenager Rachel in the river, the tension starts to build in this small community, until it’s pushed to breaking point. It made me feel angry and utterly powerless in parts. Rachel had been going out with Eugene Moynihan for years and it was apparently Eugene she had been out to meet on that night. Was this a tragic accident or is something more insidious going on? Rachel’s family are devastated and Lena is shocked to find out she was the last person to see her that night. The village gossip is in overdrive with different theories, but the narrative that seems to be emerging is that Rachel might have committed suicide. Cal doesn’t think so, but most people daren’t think anything different. The Moynihans are a big deal in Ardnakelty, living in a huge house with all mod cons and Eugene’s dad Tommy has a finger in every lucrative pie. Cal is told no one is going up against the Moynihans, because Tommy has all the right friends in very high up places. There was part of me that could see this story as an allegory for what’s happening in the world – a money-hungry bully, who is always looking for the next chance and has such a hold over people he could get away with almost anything.
Underneath this main mystery is the narrative of Cal and Lena’s relationship, in fact very early on we get a conversation about their wedding. Despite being engaged, Cal and Lena are still in two separate houses and have made no wedding plans. This suits them, but Lena’s sister Noreen who runs the shop is forever warning them. If they don’t book something round here they’ll lose the only venue. There’s Cal’s worries about Trey who is hoping to gain an apprenticeship as a joiner, has exams to get through and trouble at home where the landlord seems to want them out of their house. All of these things weave in and out of each other, seemingly unconnected but as with everything here patterns and connection exist under the surface. Tommy and Eugene pay Cal a visit, as an outsider maybe he’s the best person to investigate this? Cal refuses but is left with the feeling that will count against him. If he’s to ask any questions he’d rather do it alone, with no one controlling the narrative. What he doesn’t know is that Lena is already asking questions and because she’s from this place she knows who to ask. It’s clear sides are forming, even in the way people arrange themselves at the wake. Cal is with Trey but also his neighbour Mart, the only locals he feels any allegiance to. While Lena is drawn to a women’s table, containing everyone she went to school with and usually avoids. She doesn’t want to join sides, but with Cal increasingly pulled into Mart’s group she knows there’ll be pressure from the Moynihans. Maybe there’s a positive to being part of Ardnakelty, but she can’t see it as yet.
I loved the build up of tension in this small village and the wonderful way the author balances that with humour. There’s a scene with Mart and a squirrel that’s comedy gold and made me laugh out loud then read it to my husband. Mostly it’s the juxtaposition of things; a gang of masked men is menacing, but has a more comical touch when some are Wolverine and other varied superheroes. As the situation escalated I felt angry and powerless to stop what was happening. It wasn’t so much the brawls, it was the quiet threats and controlling nature of what was happening, particularly to the women involved. Tommy Moynihan made my skin crawl but so did Noreen’s mother-in-law Mrs Duggan, the perfect example of someone who appears powerless but actually controls the household and watches the to and fro of the village from her armchair. This fight could knit Cal, Lena and Trey into this place’s history. They could commit to being lifelong Ardnakelty people but if they are, they must find out what’s behind Rachel’s death and end Tommy’s dominance over the place. I became so drawn into this world that I was genuinely upset by the loss and how far apart Lena and Cal become. I loved that he didn’t crowd her and gave her the space to be her own person. I also loved the way he parented Trey and responded to her new relationship. This is an intricate and carefully balanced thriller that’s perfectly grounded in its rural Irish setting. Cal learns that the villager’s allegiance to their land runs deep and they are willing to put absolutely everything on the line for it, even their lives;
“Their tie to their land is different, not in its intensity but in its nature: rooted thousands of years deep, through strata of dispossession, famine, bloody rebellion. This land has been reclaimed and that changes things.”
Out 2nd April from Penguin
Tana French is the author of In the Woods, The Likeness, Faithful Place, Broken Harbor, The Secret Place, and The Trespasser. Her books have won awards including the Edgar, Anthony, Macavity, and Barry awards, the Los Angeles Times Award for Best Mystery/Thriller, and the Irish Book Award for Crime Fiction. She lives in Dublin with her family.
I couldn’t stop talking about Tracy Sierra’s debut novel Night Watching. I inhaled it and I have been lending and buying it for everyone around me since. So I approached her second novel with trepidation, would it be as good as the first? Well I can set your mind at rest. This novel is incredible. The ‘stayed in bed almost all day to keep reading it’ type of incredible. The plot is simple enough. A young boy named Zach is taken by his father on a ‘boy’s trip’ to the wilderness with people he hopes will invest in his business. This is a part of the country he visited often with his mother who taught him everything he knows about skiing these mountains and survival. As they settle into their cabin and make it ready for guests it’s clear that Zach is an innocent boy, easily ordered around by his dad who’s angry that his secretary Ginny hasn’t been up to prepare the cabin as she promised. As they settle in for their first night, Zach is convinced something is lurking around especially when he has the visit the outside toilet alone and in the dark. The noises and shadows are like nothing he’s heard before. Could a monster be up here with them in the mountains? Possibly. But sometimes, monsters aren’t always what we expect.
This author is fast becoming a master of complex and painful family dynamics with an edge of horror. This monster in the snow brought back memories of the first time I read The Shining and there are parallels in the isolated mountain setting, the pressure cooker of people forced together and the young, innocent boy at the centre of the tale. This wilderness is somewhere Zach knows very well, having come up here regularly with his mum and sister and this was one of my first questions. Where are the women in this story? We know Zach came up here with groups of women and their kids, but his mum, sister and even the expected Ginny are nowhere. In a small vignette at the beginning we see a previous trip and Zach’s mum explaining how to check the snow for the likelihood of an avalanche. She impresses upon him the importance of turning back, even if the risk is small it’s not worth taking. It’s clear very early on that Bram, his father, doesn’t have the same attitude to risk. He’s the sort of guy who thinks men take risks and would rather show bravado to his guests than follow the advice of his wife through Zach or the guide that comes with the cabin.
Zach is a beautiful narrator and he’s written with such care, everything he thinks or tells us maintains that innocent, slightly anxious voice. I desperately wanted to protect him and get him out of this situation. As adults we wear masks – the one we wear for our job for example or the ‘telephone voice’ many of us use without really intending to. Children don’t and that creates a tension, especially in an environment where the whole purpose is to impress and sell yourself. Bram makes it clear that these men expect a winner and he has to act like one. Heartbreakingly, Zach has a soft toy he’s smuggled up there but knows it must remain hidden or risk it disappearing. Bram can’t have a weak son. This idea of wearing different masks is beautifully depicted as Zach takes us back to an evening at home where his mother has returned home late and a little drunk. He listens in silence to their argument and curses his mother because she knows the rules. Why does she set out to make him angry? Zach describes his father’s other side as his ‘underself.’
“For Christmas two years ago, someone had given his sister a stuffed octopus that could be flicked inside out. Flip one way, pink, fuzzy and smiling. Flip the other way, green, slick and glowering […] switching outerself to underself.”
He also has this horrible realisation, that we all have at some point in our childhood, that other people might dislike your parent or think they’re an idiot. As they set out and he watches his interactions with the other men he notes that they can see through Bram. The guide sees he knows nothing and Bram’s need to own the best of everything means his mountain gear is flashy, it looks too new. The only other kid on the trip is Russ and he makes it clear that he knows exactly what type of Bram is because his dad is exactly the same:
“My dad, yours? They’re selfish. They nearly got us killed. And for what? Steve said you and me shouldn’t have skied it and they ignored him, because god forbid they don’t get to do exactly what they want.”
How scary must it be as a child to learn that your parent is willing to take huge risks with your life for money? Even worse, Zach finds something that makes him wonder; if his dad has an underself, does everyone else? Coming at this from a psychological viewpoint I loved the way Zach describes his concerns about the men he’s with and his father in particular. The environment brings its own dangers with further snowfall and too many risks taken. Survival becomes a question between which is safest – taking the chance with the environment or staying indoors which is undoubtedly warmer and locks out whatever it is that Zach saw the night he ventured to the outside toilet. There’s always a tipping point and the pressure the author builds is almost unbearable. My heart was in my throat during those final chapters because I felt so protective of this incredible little boy. Tracy Sierra is able to evoke that heart thumping fear we feel as children, sometimes when we’re doing nothing more dangerous than lying in bed in the dark. With Zach she explores the difference between a manageable fear that’s no more than a calculated risk with the right understanding and techniques, the fear that simply comes from encountering something we’ve never seen before and the fear we don’t want to acknowledge because it makes us face a terrible truth.
Out Now From Viking Books
Meet the Author
Tracy Sierra was born and raised in the Colorado mountains. She currently lives in New England in an antique colonial-era home complete with its own secret room. When not writing, she works as an attorney and spends time with her husband, two children, and flock of chickens
Lincolnshire, 1914. As the First World War approaches, three women are living, trapped between the unforgiving marsh, the wide, relentless river, and the isolation of the fen.
Their lives are held fast by profound grief, haunted by the spectres of the past. Trapped by the looming presence and eerie stillness of a hospital that has never admitted a single patient.
Eleanor longs to escape. To make a life with the man she loves, leaving her sister, and all her ghosts behind. Clara’s marriage is crumbling and violent and she yearns for peace and security for both herself and her innocent children. Meanwhile, Lily, a formidable force of will, stands resolute against the relentless tide of change. She will stop at nothing, no matter the devastating cost, to ensure that life, and her family, remain frozen in an unyielding embrace of the past.
The author, Rachel Canwell, grew up with the story of this forgotten hospital. Isolated, stocked weekly and cleaned daily but never admitting a single patient. The hospital was real, tended by her family for over sixty years and set against the ethereal beauty and loneliness of the Fens, is the inspiration for her novel.
The atmosphere in this story perfectly captures the strange isolated feel of Lincolnshire’s fens. I’m Lincolnshire born and bred, further north than the fens but I know the area. It’s a flat, almost featureless place with dykes that drain the fields and the constant smell of vegetable crops in the air. The novel’s focus is on the area of Sutton Bridge, a village with a famous swing bridge built in 1897 across the River Nene. On one bank, an area of several acres is home to a building site where a port is being built and on the other is a hospital, built to service the workers of the port area. Alongside it is the home of the family who will run it. The author’s family waited for many years, ready to run their hospital, but this is not their story. The author opens with a strange and disorienting scene where a family are disturbed by noises at night and venture out in the pitch dark. As they stand on the bank, theres a loud rumble and the sound of heavy things hitting the water. The family can’t see anything, but in the light it’s clear that all their hopes for a future working alongside the port are gone. The bank on the far side has collapsed in the night, even worse one of their sons is missing, presumed drowned, while helping to look for workers. As we join them in 1910 only two sisters remain on the hospital side of the bank, Lily who has barely moved beyond the threshold since her twin drowned and Eleanor who tends to Lily, their garden and the hospital. Their other sibling, Frank, lives down in the village with his wife Clara and their children. It is the three women – Eleanor, Clara and Lily – who narrate our story.
I felt so strongly about these characters, especially Clara and Eleanor who have always been friends. It soon becomes clear that both are in a similar position. Eleanor is at the mercy of Lily’s health and her moods. She claims to be unable to leave her room and hates to be left alone in the house. Despite being so isolated Eleanor has met and fallen in love with a young man called John who has taken over the village’s smithy. How can she ever plan a future with him if she’s unable to leave the house? Similarly, Eleanor’s friend Clara is at the mercy of husband Frank’s moods and how much he’s had to drink. One of the book’s opening chapters follows the couple and their children on a train to the coast. However, the train hasn’t even left the station and Frank is already belligerent. The author writes this beautifully, with Clara’s hopes for one day of freedom as a family dwindling by the moment. The tension rises as Clara desperately tries to quiet the children, holding herself tightly, too terrified to move and incur his anger. Luckily, his behaviour draws young men from the next carriage and Clara leaves him to fight his own battles. The sudden freedom she and the children have is blissful, laughing as they run down to the sea, removing shoes and socks to jump in the waves. Clara knows her friend Eleanor is under equal pressure, because under a quiet and timid exterior Lily has a core of steel. While Eleanor feels sorry for Lily, trying to respect her grief and many physical symptoms, Clara lives with a bully and she sees beyond Lily’s quiet and apparent shyness, recognising them as control and emotional blackmail. Her interventions at the house, forcing Lily into activity, almost made me laugh. Clara isn’t emotionally attached to Lily so can’t be bullied. This dynamic brings enough tension but soon WW1 will cut a swathe through the men of the village bringing fear and loss in its wake.
Lily made me furious. Her sly nature is infuriating, always listening where she shouldn’t be and snooping in other people’s things. She seems to struggle with empathy, unable to see what her actions might do to others. Despite keeping her own artefacts of a time when the family were whole, she doesn’t recognise other people’s attachment to keepsakes. She’s quite happy to destroy things if she can’t have her way. John is unsure what to do in order to help Eleanor, if they’re to have a future things must change, but how to bring that about without making things worse? It may not be possible for Eleanor to sever her ties as her sister’s carer. Maybe he will have to come to them and get to know Lily. He doesn’t want Eleanor to think he doesn’t care about her sister, but equally he needs Lily to understand that he’s going to be in Eleanor’s life, whatever that takes. However, when pushed, Lily can be incredibly spiteful and destructive. It’s this selfish streak that sees her making reckless and desperate choices. The only times when we see the girl in Eleanor is when she’s with Clara and their shared history gives us all those elements of female friendship that mean so much – the shared jokes and memories, but also the support both physical and emotional. Eleanor may be in love but it’s Clara who fully knows her and will always hold her up when she can’t support herself. All of these women are trapped: Lily by her memories and fears, Clara by her marriage and Eleanor by Lily and the empty hospital she continues to maintain to her father’s standards. It’s almost a shrine to the dreams of those they’ve lost. Then there’s the isolation of the fen, trapped between salt marsh and the river.
War brings different experiences for Clara and Eleanor, especially when Frank joins up early. It’s like spring comes to Clara’s house because the children can play and make noise, she can run the house in a more relaxed way. She can pop over to sit with Lily giving John and Eleanor some freedom too. John’s is a reserved occupation so he doesn’t have to join up straight away. However, these golden times are short lived. It isn’t long before injury, shell shock and even death reach the village and it’s very hard for any of the women to understand their husband’s or brother’s experiences. Through the male characters we see every consequence of fighting for your country. Meanwhile the women are trying to produce food and help on the land. Even to this day, the fen area of the county still produces huge amounts of vegetable produce, as well as potatoes and flowers. To keep crops growing the farmers need labourers and one solution comes in the form of a prisoner of war camp, situated on the site of the old port, directly opposite Eleanor and Lily. The POWs are mainly German soldiers, who will bunk in cabins and work the fields. The author beautifully shows the tensions between prisoners and those men who’ve been fighting overseas. As a dreaded black edged letter arrives, grief now joins domestic violence, manipulation and alcohol issues. This family is set for an explosive reckoning. I became so attached to these women and their family’s tragic history that I read it so quickly. I already know I will go back and read it again though. Every element – character, setting, plot – is beautifully done and the historical background took me back to a time when my own grandparents would have been working the land and living next to the River Trent further north in the county. This is an excellent debut from Rachel Canwell that had me utterly absorbed and feeling every emotion alongside her characters.
Out now from Northodox Press
Meet the Author
For those close by Rachel will be appearing at Lindum Books on the Bailgate in Lincoln on Saturday 21st Feb from 10.30am
Introducing an outstanding new voice in literary fiction: a sensual, sharp, and utterly compelling campus novel about grief, reinvention, and the ripple effects of telling lies
If I ever woke up with an ungodly dread ― that I could change it all now, turn around, and confess ― I ignored it. I had never been good, and there was no point in trying now.
On a small liberal arts campus in upstate New York, Charlotte begins her final year with a lie. Her father died over the summer, she says. Heart attack. Very sudden.
Charlotte had never been close with her classmates but as she repeats her tale, their expressions soften into kindness. And so she learns there are things worth lying for: attention, affection, and, as she embarks on a relationship with fellow student Katarina, even love. All she needs to do is keep control of the threads that hold her lie – and her life – together.
But six thousand miles away, alone in the grey two-up-two-down Staffordshire terrace she grew up in, her father is very much alive, watching television and drinking beer. Charlotte has always kept difficult truths at arm’s length, but his resolve to visit his distant daughter might just be the one thing she can’t control?
I found myself unsure who to like in this novel about a student on a liberal arts campus, but I became drawn in by the tangle of lies and complicated emotions around Charlotte and her relationship with Katarina. When Charlotte first sees Katarina on campus she’s not impressed and describes some aspects of her as ugly, but I thought she became fascinated by Katarina’s confidence. This stands out in the work she’s producing and her very clear sense of who she is, she also seems to make friends easily, whereas Charlotte is something of a loner. When they first meet Katarina has a lot of opinions, likening the TV show ‘Married at First Sight’ to our ancestors enjoyment of public executions. She sees no distinction between high and low forms of art. Katarina is an artist who has no trouble in taking her work seriously, whereas Charlotte is full of doubts and struggles to meet the workload. Charlotte doesn’t really know who she is: in the car she checks whether Katarina likes a song before confirming that she likes it too; she starts to dress like Katarina and notices her wardrobe has become ‘theirs’. It’s also clear that she feels different and dislocated from a sense of family, as she notices Katarina’s lock screen on her phone where she and her mother are hugging and smiling for the camera she thinks they look like ‘catalogue people, entirely unreal’. When Katarina and her friends ask about her own family she tells them family life was turbulent, she was uprooted from schools and moved around a lot. She also tells them her father died over the summer. Of course this brings sympathy and less questions, but Tamsyn mentions her misgivings to Katarina:
“If my dad were gone […] I’d feel insane. Totally scooped out. I wouldn’t be able to chill or smile, or fuck or anything.”
Charlotte tells Katarina that Tamsyn can’t cope with someone’s grief response being different to her own. Even though Charlotte seems attached to Katarina, she says things that suggest she’s just playing out the role of girlfriend rather than actually being present. There are things she doesn’t like about Katarina, in fact she finds some behaviours disgusting, but pushes the thoughts to the back of her mind. As she analyses how she feels she does mention that she loves her – “in a way. The only way I could”. What she has learned is that her story of her father’s sudden heart attack makes people soften towards her and treat her nicely. Although that comes with its own problems, when the following summer Katarina finds them a working stay in Italy. As they’re fed by Guilia and do the work on her smallholding she finds a sense of peace and even contentment, but she doesn’t know how to process or enjoy these positive emotions.
“There was something bottomless about being content. I knew other emotions well, sought them out. I knew how to be in them, occupy them and how to cover them up, so they looked like something else, all wrapped and packaged.”
Her need to be so tightly controlled is being tested and there may be something else she can’t control. The father she has buried and mourned in her head has been concerned about the growing distance between him and his daughter. He could simply book an AirBnB and fly out to see her, meet her friends and have a catch up. I felt Charlotte’s tension as she tries to control her every response and remember the lies she has told before and be consistent. I was waiting for everything to collapse and found myself concerned about what that might do to her mental health. I also felt for her father, who comes across as a loving and kind man. I found myself wondering whether her lie was rooted in repressed feelings around her dad. What was she angry about and what had happened in her childhood to leave her with no sense of who she is or what she is worth? During the last third of the book we find the answers to these questions, bringing that hopefulness to the book that began to creep in during their time in Italy. Not only does Charlotte have to deal with the consequences of her lies, she must face the reasons she started to tell them in the first place. This was where I started to feel some emotion for her and I think other readers will too. When I used to work with clients, I would use the brick wall analogy. If the wall is unstable, the builder must take it back brick by brick to where the problem begins and fix it before rebuilding. That’s what Charlotte must now do and I had hopes that she would reconcile with her father, find some inspiration for her final art piece and most of all find her sense of self.
I was impressed by the author’s depiction of Charlotte’s fragile mental state and sense of self. The novel asks all sorts of questions about what makes us who we are – is it the things we like, the people who love us, our achievements or is there a solid, innate character that determines all these things? Is our sense of who we are fixed and unchanging or is it more fluid? The background of university and Charlotte’s choice of a creative subject is interesting because we create and generate ideas that show aspects of our self and the times we live in. One of the tutors explains this by showing his students a female face that can be seen reproduced in many different ways through centuries and art movements, but it is eventually revealed to be variations on the Madonna. He tells his students that every image is the ghost of all the words and pictures that come before it and that is also true of us. The self we are today is the result of every thing, person or experience we’ve ever known, good or bad. It is only by stripping back and rebuilding, accepting all the parts of our self – even the parts or experiences we don’t like and have caused us pain – that we can be content. In that journey, Charlotte might finally be able to create something she can own and be proud of.
Meet the Author
Grace Murray was born in 2003 and grew up in Norwich. She has recently graduated from Edinburgh University, where she read English Literature and found time to write between her studies and two part-time jobs. Her short fiction has been published in The London Magazine.
In writing Blank Canvas, Grace set out to explore themes of Catholic guilt and queer identity, clashing moral codes and lies, and the opportunity for reinvention presented by moving between countries and settings. Blank Canvas was written over the course of a year as part of WriteNow, Penguin Random House’s flagship mentorship scheme for emerging talent. Grace Murray won one of nine places on the scheme on the exceptional strength of her writing, selected from a pool of over 1,300 applicants.
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.
Adelaide Hills, 1959. At the end of a scorching hot day, in the grounds of a grand country house, a local man makes a terrible discovery. Police are called, and the small town of Tambilla becomes embroiled in one of the most mystifying murder investigations in the history of Australia.
London, 2018. Jess is a journalist in search of a story. Having lived and worked in London for nearly two decades, a phone call summons her back to Sydney, where her beloved grandmother, Nora, has suffered a fall and is seriously ill in hospital.
Seeking comfort in her past, Jess discovers a true crime book at Nora’s house chronicling a long-buried police case: the Turner Family Tragedy of 1959. And within its pages she finds a shocking personal connection to this notorious event – a crime that has never truly been solved . . .
I’ve always picked up Kate Morton’s novels and I don’t really know why this one has sat on my shelves for so long. I made it one of the novels to catch up on in December, when I take a break from blog tours and read what I feel like. It’s a chunky novel and it took some time to get to grips with everyone and their timelines but there’s no mistaking the power of the central image as new mum Izzy and her children are found on their picnic blanket by the creek. The man who makes the discovery assumes they’re asleep, until he sees a line of ants crawling over Matilda’s wrist. It’s such a striking image that it inspires the title of journalist Daniel Miller’s book ‘As If They Were Asleep’. The only person missing is baby Thea and it’s assumed she’s been carried away by wild dogs. The conclusion is that Izzy has poisoned herself and her children, in the grip of post-natal depression and unable to leave them behind. Back at their home, Halcyon, Izzy’s heavily pregnant sister-in-law Nora is waiting for her brother’s family to return. Possibly due to the shock and in a powerful storm, Nora gives birth to her own daughter Polly. Once she leaves for her own home, no one will ever return to Halcyon. Nora’s brother stays in the USA seemingly unable to face what happened to the woman he loved and the children whose voices once filled the house he fell in love with as soon as he saw it. Now, with Nora seriously ill in hospital, her granddaughter Jessie will be drawn into the cold case through Nora’s rambling words and Daniel’s book. What follows is a not just a complex murder case but a tale of mothers and daughters and how intergenerational trauma has an impact, even when it’s a closely guarded secret.
We’re given various viewpoints through the book and outside sources such as letters, documents and excerpts from Daniel’s book. We travel back to 1959 and Nora’s time at Halcyon and the accounts of various Turners, to Polly’s years growing up with mother Nora at their home near Sydney and Jess brings everything together in the present day. We dip in and out of these timelines and viewpoints and they are layered perfectly by Morton where they will make the most impact. Through this careful placement we build up a picture of characters and their motivations, only to have that impression change when we see a different viewpoint or Jess makes a discovery. My view of some characters changed radically, especially towards the end of the book when we hear more from Polly who has been an absent mother for most of Jess’s life. Nora and Jess have a solid relationship, perhaps closer than most grandchildren have with their grandmother since Jess grew up in Nora’s house until she left for England. She is distraught to arrive and realise her grandmother is more unwell than she imagined. For Jess, Nora has been the perfect example of a formidable woman. She gets things done and Jess has inherited her organisational talents and business-like manner. She feels she has little in common with Polly who is seen by both women as rather unreliable or flaky, a pregnant teenager who left the job of mothering Jess to Nora. I really liked the Nora I saw through Jess’s eyes and I was intrigued to know whether that would track back to 1959 and the young Nora who is pregnant with Polly and staying with Izzy and the children for Christmas.
I loved how Morton used the landscape, particularly regarding Halcyon – a veritable house of dreams. Michael fell in love with it straight away but it’s interesting how it echoes with his choice of wife and how it sits within the wider Aussie landscape. Described as a Georgian manor complete with its own English country garden strangely situated within the heat of southern Australia. It has a backdrop of boiling heat, ghostly silver gum trees on the horizon and its lush green garden stands out against the parched landscape. There’s something unnatural about it, as if a tornado had picked it up in England and dropped it on the other side of the world. This same description applies to Izzy, her pale and freckled beauty out of place in the brutal heat of that last summer. Michael Turner knew this was the right home for his family because it is the embodiment of his wife. Without tending and daily care, the garden and house would be taken over, becoming yellowed and dry and home to native plats and animals. Does Izzy also need such gentle tending? It is Nora who supplies the most compelling piece of evidence that she was struggling and feeling unable to cope. Jess needs to read the book about the case and have a search round the house before her grandmother comes home. It is only by chance that she gets to read Izzy’s thoughts first hand. Then when Polly arrives there’s a real chance for them to connect and discuss their family history openly and this is where the novel became really gripping. Up to this point we’ve only seen Nora through Jess’s eyes but now we see her through Polly’s eyes and there are so many more layers to this elderly lady, now unconscious in her hospital bed. I started to see her controlling side and her ability to manipulate with her money and status. I began to see Polly in a different light too and felt a huge amount of empathy for her situation and the things she lost.
It was only towards the end of the book when I realised that there aren’t many men in this family. In fact the only person who has no voice in the novel is Michael Turner. Why did he buy Halcyon, the dream family home and then live in a separate country from them? Polly doesn’t have a man in her life and nor does Jess. Morton keeps the twists and turns coming right up to the end of the novel, some expected and others a complete surprise. She never leaves even the tiniest loose end and that isn’t easy when we see just how far the ripples of this tragedy spread in the community. In the midst of that Christmas and all that comes after, Izzy really has an impact with her beauty and vitality. It is unthinkable that only hours later all that sparkle is simply snuffed out. If you love Kate Morton, this has all the aspects that make her novels so popular – the family saga, the big house and the secrets kept behind closed doors. However, this had the added element of an unsolved crime giving it an addictive quality. Added to that is the length of the book, allowing the story and characters to fully develop, showing fascinating and complex psychological dynamics between each mother and daughter. I can’t believe it took me so long to finally read it.
Meet the Author
KATE MORTON is an award-winning, Sunday Times and New York Times bestselling author. Her novels – The House at Riverton, The Forgotten Garden, The Distant Hours, The Secret Keeper, The Lake House, The Clockmaker’s Daughter and Homecoming – are published in over 45 countries, in 38 languages, and have all been number one bestsellers around the world.
Kate Morton grew up in the mountains of southeast Queensland and now lives with her family in London and Australia. She has degrees in dramatic art and English literature, and harboured dreams of joining the Royal Shakespeare Company until she realised that it was words she loved more than performing. Kate still feels a pang of longing each time she goes to the theatre and the house lights dim.
“I fell deeply in love with books as a child and believe that reading is freedom; that to read is to live a thousand lives in one; that fiction is a magical conversation between two people – you and me – in which our minds meet across time and space. I love books that conjure a world around me, bringing their characters and settings to life, so that the real world disappears and all that matters, from beginning to end, is turning one more page.”
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.
In the heat of summer, the past can become hazy. . .
For twenty years, Nina Drayton has told herself that she must have seen her sister, Tamara, being murdered by the family babysitter – Josie Jackson. That she doesn’t remember it because she was five, and amnesia is a normal trauma response.
But now, with the anniversary of Tamara’s death approaching and true crime investigators revisiting the case, Nina finds it harder to suppress her doubts.
Returning to her family’s sparkling villa on the Cote d’Azur for the first time since the murder, she wants to uncover more about the summer that changed so many lives.
Because if she was wrong, then she sent an innocent woman to jail – and the real killer is still walking free.
I really enjoyed Katie’s debut novel The Girls of Summer so this was a definite must buy for me. The setting was so evocative and I loved the tension between the two different versions of this small town on the Cote d’Azure. There’s the statement holiday home of the Drayton’s, architect designed and jutting out over the sea as if imposing itself on nature. This house and the parties held there in the summer season are all about the rich heiress impressing her friends and other society families holidaying in the area. From it’s viewpoint on the cliff top, the beach shack and the local dive school seem rather shabby but these belong to the families who live here all year round and are simply trying to make a living. They work hard, long hours in the summer season so that they can make the money for the rest of the year, when the everything closes and people like the Draytons return to London or go skiing in the Alps. Through two timelines we’re shown what happens when these two sets of people collide, sparking an event that changes lives and still affects those involved in the present day. Nina Drayton has returned to sort out her mother’s affairs and decide what to do with the crumbling property they never use. However, her visit has stirred up memories of that summer when her sister Tamara died and she gave evidence that put a young local woman called Josie in prison. Now released, Josie has returned to the dive shop her family owned, now run by her brother and his girlfriend. She will be moving in with them until she can get her life on track, but in the meantime Tamara’s murder has become a social media sensation and a podcaster is in town researching the case. Will Josie be able to build a life for herself with this much publicity surrounding the case and will Nina be able to shake off the uneasy feeling she has about what she saw the night her sister died?
There were shades of Atonement in this story that explores memory, identity and how we view events at different points in life. As a child Nina gave her evidence, but even after years of psychology training she’s unsure about exactly what she saw. Her husband Ryan asks her outright:
“How do you know you weren’t making it up? Kids make things up all the time right?”
It’s the first time anyone has ever had the guts to ask her the very thing she has always wondered. It’s something she has tried to cover up, shove to the back of her mind and starve out of her body. She’s tormented by the elusive nature of her memories, as one summer becomes conflated with several others, just a stream of partying adults and often forgotten children. Josie was in and out of the Drayton’s house that summer, either earning money with her friend Hannah for keeping an eye on Nina and the guests smaller children or by invite when Blake Drayton started to take an interest in her. The author takes us back in time between that summer and the present when Josie has been released from prison. Josie has always claimed to be innocent and her yearning for an ordinary life is very endearing. I felt for her as she struggles to keep hold of her sense of self in a world where other people will only see an ex-prisoner. She may have served her sentence but to others she will always be a murderer, so she’s not expecting to be given a chance. She’s surprised when Nic stops to pass the time of day and asks if she would like to go out. We’re shown exactly who Josie is when she feels uncomfortable in the posh restaurant he takes her to and they ditch their booking for lobster rolls at the beach shack instead. When we see her with her brother or out in the water we can see how at home she is here, in tune with nature and the simple things in life.
The author uses transcripts from TikTok videos and the true crime podcast to show us how human lives are no more than a commodity to be packaged in sensational one minute reels to keep the conversation going. Engagement is the goal and there’s plenty, showing us exactly what happens when people become gripped by a puzzle to solve forgetting that behind the headlines are real people trying to live their lives. Here the truth is especially elusive. Josie is fixated on the person who is destroying her second chance, just throwing out wild theories and ludicrous cliffhangers for her followers to pass judgement on. Josie has been judged and served her time, so she didn’t expect to be tried in the court of social media opinion once again. We never truly know who is behind the anonymous profile picture, it could be someone next door or it could be someone on the other side of the world. When we go back to that summer we can see that both Tamara Drayton and her brother Blake are damaged by their upbringing. When he shows an interest in Josie she’s unbelievably flattered. She knows there is a gulf between their lifestyles and for a teenage girl attention from the wealthy, good looking Blake Drayton gives her a sense of acceptance. This, much younger Josie, would stay in the posh restaurant because she’s not comfortable enough to say ‘this isn’t me.’ It’s this uncertainty and inadequacy that Blake has noticed, he sees the local girls as expendable but he assures Josie that it’s over with his rich girlfriend and he really likes her. Meanwhile, Josie’s friend Hannah has struck up a friendship with the rich and popular Tamara Drayton. However assured she seems, under the expensive clothes and air of sophistication, Tamara is still a teenage girl struggling with her own identity and lack of support from her mother. As the days become hotter, the tension between these young people is certain to boil over.
I found the final third of this book impossible to put down. I was waiting desperately for a confrontation between Nina and Josie, something that could help both of them. I wasn’t sure whether these tentative connections would spark another terrible event or whether as adults there could be reconciliation. Would Nina be able to voice her uncertainty and guilt? Would Hannah reach out to her friend, now released and needing to hear about what happened between her and Tamara? At the very least I was rooting for Josie to find a peace within herself. As their present lives threaten to move out of control, Josie starts to have a dream she’s had all her life at times of pressure. A dream of falling..
“The future seems to gape in front of Josie, vast and undefined […] a fall from a very high cliff”.
I really wanted her to think about the times she dives, with all the confidence of someone who’s done this since they were a child. Underneath the water she is both at home and awed by the wonder of what’s living just underneath the surface, especially when she dives for the first time since her release. I wanted her to remember how comfortable she is in the water and realise that it never mattered if she fell: she knows how to swim.
Meet the Author
Katie Bishop is a writer and journalist based in the UK. Her debut novel, The Girls of Summer published in 2023 with Transworld, UK and St. Martin’s Press, US. Her second novel, High Season, was published in August 2025.
“Until the lions have their own historians, the history of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.” Chinua Achebe (Author)
When I was gathering books for the Queen’s jubilee stall at our village book exchange, I could have stuck to the British Isles and its experience of life in the reign of Elizabeth II. However, I wanted to look at the jubilee from a global viewpoint and include the voices of all the Queen’s subjects. For me that includes voices from countries that were once part of our empire, some of whom are now under the Commonwealth banner. I think these other voices are important; those who are literally silenced, but also those who were ignored because were simply not the white, middle class, man that society is used to listening to. This book had a beautiful example of one such voice and I was reading it around jubilee time. Celestine Babbington is recorded for history in a silent form, photographed wearing clothes he didn’t choose and posing with a man whose relationship to him is very problematic. The man, Richard Babbington, is a wealthy explorer who has a love for Africa and a large mansion house in England and by 1907, Celestine is being kept in the attic of that house, only allowed out to work as a domestic slave.
Years later, a young girl called Lowra is suffering the same fate. Locked in the attic as punishment for any transgression since her fate was left in the hands of her resentful stepmother. After her mother died, Lowra’s dad remarried and from that day on her life was punctuated by spells of abuse. While locked in the attic she finds an unusual necklace with clawed hands, unlike anything she’s seen before. There’s also an old-fashioned porcelain doll and a sentence on the wall, written in an unfamiliar language. These are her only comfort, because she feels as if the person that owned them is still with her in some way. As an adult, her stepmother’s abuse still affects her and she’s conflicted when she inherits Babbington’s house. People seem to think she’s lucky and the town is proud of this intrepid explorer. Looking into the house’s history leads her to an exhibition of Babbington’s life, where she sees photographs of Babbington and a young black boy wearing an African wrap and what looks like her necklace, the one from the attic. However, the thing that keeps Lowra transfixed, is the young boy’s eyes. Lowra sees someone filled with sorrow, a fellow sufferer of the darkness inside that house. His name is Celestine Babbington. Lowra wants to find out more about this boy, how he came to be in England and what happened to him after Babbington’s death. She enlists the help of a history specialist called Monty, who has an interest in stories that have not been told, particularly those of empire. Together they start their search for the attic child.
I think anyone who talks about the glory of our empire should be encouraged to read this book. It’s fitting that the opening quote of the book is from the incredible author Chinua Achebe, because his novel Things Fall Apart is a perfect companion to this tale. This time the story is partially told by an innocent victim of our Victorian forays into Africa, a child called Dikembe, who is largely ignorant of the atrocities being carried out by the Belgian forces plundering the natural resources of his homeland. At the time of Dikembe’s childhood, his homeland was named the Belgian Congo, a large area of Africa now known as Zaire, then the Democratic Republic of Congo. Very few Europeans had reached this area of Africa, known for tropical diseases like sleeping sickness. King Leopold of Belgium had urged the Belgian Government to colonise the country, but when they stalled their efforts he decided to take charge himself. He took ownership of the country and named it the Congo Free State in 1885, using his private army the Force Publique to press gang Congolese men and boys to work for him in the production of rubber. No one knows the exact population of the country at this time, but due to exploitation and the exposure to new diseases it is estimated that up to ten million native people died during Leopold’s rule of the country. Dikembe is young enough to stay at home each day with his mother, but he envies his brothers who go off to work with their father every morning. His parents keep him ignorant of the way native workers were treated so it is an utter shock when his father is killed one day. Richard Babbington, based on a real man called Henry Morton Stanley, expresses an interest in Dikembe. He wants to take him back to England and turn him into a gentleman and his companion. Ridden with grief and terrified about what could happen to her youngest son, his mother agrees, knowing this may be the only way to keep him safe. Although his intentions seem pure, isn’t this just another form of colonisation? He then takes away Dikembe’s name, calling him Celestine Babbington.
I found both these children’s circumstances heartbreaking and realised that Lowra’s affinity with this boy is because she sees something in his photographs echoed in her own eyes. I thought the two character narrative worked really well here, but all of the characters are so well crafted that they pulled me into their stories and didn’t let go till the end. We’re with Lowra and Monty on their quest, finding out more about Dikembe’s story and we experience the effect these revelations have on all the characters. It’s moving to see Monty identifying with Dikembe and feeling emotional pain from the injustices he has gone through. Monty still experiences racism and oppression, just in different ways and Lowra can’t be part of that even though she has empathy for how Monty feels. They worked together well and slowly become close by being honest about their pasts and what effect their life experiences have had on them mentally. Lola Jaye has managed to engage the emotions, but also educate me at the same time, because I didn’t know much about the Belgian empire or King Leopold’s exploitation and murder of the Congolese population. However, it was those complex issues of identity and privilege that really came across to me, especially in the character of Richard Babbington. His arrogant assumption that he could give Dikembe a better life is privilege in action, as Dikembe soon finds out that he’s a womanising drunk and the companionship he spoke of only works one way. All he does bestow is money, for clothes and school, but what Dikembe craves is the warmth and love of his mother calling him a ‘good child’. The way this need for love and comfort was also exploited made me cry. I was desperately hoping that by the end, these terrible injustices didn’t stop him living his life to the full, including embracing happiness when the chance came his way. We see this play out for Lowra during the novel, can she ever accept that she is worthy of love? I wasn’t surprised to learn that Lola Jaye is a therapist, because she understands trauma and how it can manifest through several generations. The story doesn’t pull it’s punches so I felt angry and I felt sad, but somehow the author has managed to make the overall message one of hope. Hope in the resilience of the human spirit.
Lola Jayne’s latest novel is The Manual for Good Wives. It came out in 2025 is on my tbr for March.
Everything about Adeline Copplefield is a lie . . .
To the world Mrs Copplefield is the epitome of Victorian propriety: an exemplary society lady who writes a weekly column advising young ladies on how to be better wives.
Only Adeline has never been a good wife or mother; she has no claim to the Copplefield name, nor is she an English lady . . .
Now a black woman, born in Africa, who dared to pretend to be something she was not, is on trial in the English courts with all of London society baying for her blood. And she is ready to tell her story . . .
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.
The Lotus Readers 