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Reviews: books / films / drama A few guidelines on writing a book review
Begin by briefly stating what the book is about. Avoid giving any plot spoilers or revealing twists. Leave out major details from the middle to last part of the story. Mention if it is part of a series. Explain what you particularly liked about this book - focus on your thoughts and feelings about the story and the way it was told. You might talk about what, if anything, you didn’t like and why it didn't work for you. Round up your review by summarising your thoughts. You could advise what type of reader might like this book and/or compare it to similar books in the genre. |
Submit your reviews via e-mail to Maggie or Betty OR post them on the messaging facility on the home page.
Book review- July 2023
The RSC have adapted Maggie O’Farrell’s beautiful novel Hamnet .The action, set in sixteenth century Stratford and London, is breathtaking, passionate, heartbreaking and so painfully evokes life in an age when it took over three days to ride to London and the only communication was by letter.
It is known that Anne (Agnes) Hathaway and Shakespeare had three children; Susanna and the twins Hamnet (Hamlet) and Judith. The tragic death of one of the twins at the age of eleven is the heart of the story. The amount of detail and minute exploration in the text had me re-reading passages with wonder at the author’s skill. She acknowledges texts used in her research by familiar writers including Bill Bryson, Germaine Greer and ‘How to be a Tudor’ by Ruth Goldman, who often pops up in historical investigations on TV.
This is Shakespeare’s restless world. The reader cannot help but be there. Feel, smell, taste, see and touch life in rural Stratford and stinking, disease ridden, vibrant London.
Maggie O’Farrell slips into her narrative old words that puzzle, mostly to do with farming life that possibly have no modern equivalent, they simply remind the reader that she found them, as she acknowledges, with the help of ‘the staff at Shakespeare’s birthplace trust and guides at Stratford Holy Trinity Church’.
This novel has it all and doesn’t hold back on the beauty of nature; sorrow and poverty; sibling and family love and pain.. There is even a wicked stepmother- or is she ?
In the final pages we learn how and why ‘Hamlet’ was written. How Agnes understands the way in which the playwright dealt with his sorrow, whilst she tried and tried to understand her own grief, by putting their boy on the stage.
I’m not sure if I can watch the production. Perhaps next year…
Andie Green.
The RSC have adapted Maggie O’Farrell’s beautiful novel Hamnet .The action, set in sixteenth century Stratford and London, is breathtaking, passionate, heartbreaking and so painfully evokes life in an age when it took over three days to ride to London and the only communication was by letter.
It is known that Anne (Agnes) Hathaway and Shakespeare had three children; Susanna and the twins Hamnet (Hamlet) and Judith. The tragic death of one of the twins at the age of eleven is the heart of the story. The amount of detail and minute exploration in the text had me re-reading passages with wonder at the author’s skill. She acknowledges texts used in her research by familiar writers including Bill Bryson, Germaine Greer and ‘How to be a Tudor’ by Ruth Goldman, who often pops up in historical investigations on TV.
This is Shakespeare’s restless world. The reader cannot help but be there. Feel, smell, taste, see and touch life in rural Stratford and stinking, disease ridden, vibrant London.
Maggie O’Farrell slips into her narrative old words that puzzle, mostly to do with farming life that possibly have no modern equivalent, they simply remind the reader that she found them, as she acknowledges, with the help of ‘the staff at Shakespeare’s birthplace trust and guides at Stratford Holy Trinity Church’.
This novel has it all and doesn’t hold back on the beauty of nature; sorrow and poverty; sibling and family love and pain.. There is even a wicked stepmother- or is she ?
In the final pages we learn how and why ‘Hamlet’ was written. How Agnes understands the way in which the playwright dealt with his sorrow, whilst she tried and tried to understand her own grief, by putting their boy on the stage.
I’m not sure if I can watch the production. Perhaps next year…
Andie Green.
Film Review - November 2022
The Lost King (from the book of the same name by Philippa Langley & Michael Jones)
I only just remember that in 2012 it was claimed that the remains of King Richard III were found under a carpark in Leicester. At the time I was very sceptical at these outlandish claims.
Now there is a film directed by Stephen Frears who also directed the Oscar nominated 2013 film Philomena, also based on true events and also starring Steve Coogan – who also wrote this screenplay.
The quirky and very watchable actor, Sally Hawkins, plays the real-life writer Philippa Langley who, after watching a production of Shakespeare’s play sets out prove that the remains under the carpark are those of The King; and to disprove the popular conception that the King was a deformed and wicked usurper to the English throne, who was also implicated in the murder of the two princes in the Tower of London.
For a while all Philippa’s hunches are based on her dreams and optimism with no evidence to put before the council to justify digging up the car park. She discovers a group calling themselves “Ricardians” who are also trying to ‘find’ King Richard.
Coogan’s screenplay takes the audience along with Philippa’s quest with witty light-hearted dialogue, fantasy, and humour.
Although we already know that proof was eventually found by various experts, the process of getting there is impressively tense, exciting and very funny.
My favourite quote as Philippa is facing yet another committee to convince them to back her belief and pay for the project based only on her feelings is: -
“a ‘feeling’ is what you get when you sit on a still-warm bus seat”
A joyous, clever and – if a movie can be – a real page turner of a tale.
Andie Green
The Lost King (from the book of the same name by Philippa Langley & Michael Jones)
I only just remember that in 2012 it was claimed that the remains of King Richard III were found under a carpark in Leicester. At the time I was very sceptical at these outlandish claims.
Now there is a film directed by Stephen Frears who also directed the Oscar nominated 2013 film Philomena, also based on true events and also starring Steve Coogan – who also wrote this screenplay.
The quirky and very watchable actor, Sally Hawkins, plays the real-life writer Philippa Langley who, after watching a production of Shakespeare’s play sets out prove that the remains under the carpark are those of The King; and to disprove the popular conception that the King was a deformed and wicked usurper to the English throne, who was also implicated in the murder of the two princes in the Tower of London.
For a while all Philippa’s hunches are based on her dreams and optimism with no evidence to put before the council to justify digging up the car park. She discovers a group calling themselves “Ricardians” who are also trying to ‘find’ King Richard.
Coogan’s screenplay takes the audience along with Philippa’s quest with witty light-hearted dialogue, fantasy, and humour.
Although we already know that proof was eventually found by various experts, the process of getting there is impressively tense, exciting and very funny.
My favourite quote as Philippa is facing yet another committee to convince them to back her belief and pay for the project based only on her feelings is: -
“a ‘feeling’ is what you get when you sit on a still-warm bus seat”
A joyous, clever and – if a movie can be – a real page turner of a tale.
Andie Green
Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell
I began reading this book in the knowledge that I have always enjoyed Maggie O'Farrell's work. The early chapters revealed that she was in different mode for Hamnet. I felt she was trying to find a style that fitted the epoch she was telling us about, i.e., the 1500s at the time of Shakespeare's teenage years and early adulthood. The book concentrates on his relationship with his parents and family members. Chapters moved back and forth between generations and on occasion I "lost the plot" a little. Her prose is faultless and imaginative and well suited to the story she is telling. I felt it just didn't work for me and I found myself skip-reading the last few chapters as my interest was waning. I managed to care about the characters, after all, the main points around which the plot is created are indeed fact. I feel maybe the fault is with me and my approach to the work. Shakespeare is such a monumental character, he's etched in our psyche, someone we've been expected to revere since our schooldays, I just couldn't handle the tragic facts of his life being reassembled amidst reams of pure fiction which more than hinted at the supernatural. It is well written with beautiful descriptive prose. I'm sure others will be able to take the fantasy parts on board and declare it a 'good read'. It has received 'best seller' status in the world of book sales so I'll not condemn it outright, it's just not one of my favourite recent reads. Betty Taylor |
The Impostor by Damon Galgut
(winner of the 2021 Booker prize) Set in a remote area of South Africa with morally ambivalent political undertones Adam, Canning, Baby and the Blue Man play out a narrative in which each has motives for escaping reality. Nothing is ‘nice’ or ‘pleasant’ – poverty, corruption, greed, revenge, sex and cruelty are played out in visual scenes and sparse dialogue at which this writer is a master. I didn’t need to guess the outcome of each masterly plot twist – so that each solution was in its own way unpredictable and shocking. We don’t have to read Adam’s poems to feel that in their own way they explain his old friend’s excessive need for attention, plus his own need for self discovery. An excellent novel and I shall definitely read more of Damon Galgut’s work. Andie Green |
Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens
It’s rarely that I need to review a novel long before it’s conclusion. But it’s also very rare for a narrative to affect me in this way. It soon becomes evident that Delia Owen’s first novel is not only based on meticulous research, but also reflected by her own life as a wildlife scientist in Africa. I’ve read about a third of the 384 pages. I’m reading steadily to prolong the joy! Two stories 16 years apart.
Kya’s in 1953 and a murder mystery in 1969. We follow Kya from age seven to (100 pages in) up to her mid teens. The steady police investigation plods (sorry) along day be day. An explanation of ‘Crawdads’ is after about one hundred pages.
Kya is swamp trash, a nigger, taunted horribly by white youths. Abandoned gradually by parents and siblings, she has no schooling, scant language, but, what she learns through necessity from nature, could never be found in books. From seven years of age till where I am up to in her mid teens, she has had to become resourceful, resilient, inventive, and above all fearless.
The other story, set in the same area of America’s North Carolina’s coast, is a perplexing puzzle of a body discovered by two white boys, nine or ten; involving forensics; intricate detective work by a sheriff and his sidekick-reminding the reader of how far this science has evolved over five decades. But the overwhelming star of this beautiful novel is nature. Kya sees no need to engage with other folk. She has never needed to talk. She knows the language of swamp creatures, the whispered messages of trees, swamp grasses.
Only this girl could recognise a long and slender feather as: “the eyebrow” of a great blue heron that bows gracefully above the eye, extending back beyond her elegant head’
On every page I have to go back over such intelligent and shrewd observations that are ‘awesome’ - ridiculous word, but needed here. And, I have hoped that it doesn’t get screen-played, for each snapshot depends on the reader’s imagination, it’s all there like watching a ‘mind movie’. No director can (for me) film the ‘mise en scene dans un scenario’ in visual images. ( a term I learnt when learning how to adapt from page to screen during my English degree) But...I’ve just checked on Amazon to read ‘...soon to be a major movie.' Shame...
Andie Green (1st June 2021)
It’s rarely that I need to review a novel long before it’s conclusion. But it’s also very rare for a narrative to affect me in this way. It soon becomes evident that Delia Owen’s first novel is not only based on meticulous research, but also reflected by her own life as a wildlife scientist in Africa. I’ve read about a third of the 384 pages. I’m reading steadily to prolong the joy! Two stories 16 years apart.
Kya’s in 1953 and a murder mystery in 1969. We follow Kya from age seven to (100 pages in) up to her mid teens. The steady police investigation plods (sorry) along day be day. An explanation of ‘Crawdads’ is after about one hundred pages.
Kya is swamp trash, a nigger, taunted horribly by white youths. Abandoned gradually by parents and siblings, she has no schooling, scant language, but, what she learns through necessity from nature, could never be found in books. From seven years of age till where I am up to in her mid teens, she has had to become resourceful, resilient, inventive, and above all fearless.
The other story, set in the same area of America’s North Carolina’s coast, is a perplexing puzzle of a body discovered by two white boys, nine or ten; involving forensics; intricate detective work by a sheriff and his sidekick-reminding the reader of how far this science has evolved over five decades. But the overwhelming star of this beautiful novel is nature. Kya sees no need to engage with other folk. She has never needed to talk. She knows the language of swamp creatures, the whispered messages of trees, swamp grasses.
Only this girl could recognise a long and slender feather as: “the eyebrow” of a great blue heron that bows gracefully above the eye, extending back beyond her elegant head’
On every page I have to go back over such intelligent and shrewd observations that are ‘awesome’ - ridiculous word, but needed here. And, I have hoped that it doesn’t get screen-played, for each snapshot depends on the reader’s imagination, it’s all there like watching a ‘mind movie’. No director can (for me) film the ‘mise en scene dans un scenario’ in visual images. ( a term I learnt when learning how to adapt from page to screen during my English degree) But...I’ve just checked on Amazon to read ‘...soon to be a major movie.' Shame...
Andie Green (1st June 2021)
Note: I've recently read Where the Crawdads Sing and endorse everything Andie says. This book is beautifully written, and has it all: intrigue, passion, characters to care about, and an insight into backwater America of the 50s and 60s. It is certainly engaging, and I found myself following Kya's journey with trepidation as many twists of fate and the actions of others profoundly affect her life. It keeps you guessing right to the end. It's no surprise that the film makers have got their hands on it already.
Betty Taylor |
Note: I have just finished reading, Where the Crawdads Sing. It reminded me of To Kill a Mockingbird. It was so good, and unpredictable right up to the end. Simply written and yet so powerful. She also changed points of view mid chapter, so that rule has gone out of the window for me now!
Maggie Storer |
A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman (translated from the Swedish by Henning Koch)
It is fitting that out of my window today there are icy branches, a snow covered driveway and the sturdy remains of a three day old snowman.
Fifty nine year old Ove drives a Saab and lives in a town in Sweden where winters are always snowy and the task of keeping a group of terrace houses in order seem to be Ove’s main purpose in life. He begins each day at six with an inspection of the houses surrounding a parking area; noting any cars that should not be in the residents’ bays; reading the sign forbidding vehicles from driving in the residential area and checking his own garage and tool shed, before he clears fresh snow from his path.
This man is constantly disagreeing with his neighbours, especially his fellow members of the residents committee. He has a strict routine and in his curmudgeonly way rebels against any opposition to his rules. Each chapter chronicles how Ove deals with interruptions from his fellow residents, council and social officials and of course the annoying cat.
There is very little that Ove cannot fix or suggest help for, whether it is how to bleed a radiator, fix a bicycle or teach a pregnant neighbour to drive.
Ove’s anger and conviction when he comes up against bureaucracy and the establishment know no bounds, particularly in one heart-breaking story of the unfair assessment of an elderly neighbour.
Fredrick Backman shows us a complex man who does not want to be alive, who’s exploits cause readers to laugh out loud and, often on the same page, weep in utter frustration and sorrow at his burdens, then ultimately cheer for this man called Ove. He is an amalgamation of Mr. Bean, Victor Meldrew, Basil Faulty and also has the blinkered judgement of Alan Bennett’s ‘Lady of Letters’ – but unlike these fictional beings Ove is real.
I believe there is a little of Ove in all of us. At the end of the book there are some multiple choice questions to determine how like Ove the reader is.
I do hope someone adapts this tale for the screen.
I know who I would cast as Ove, Rune, Parvenah, the man in the white shirt, Sonja, Lena - the journalist – all of them beautifully real and complete.
(Andie Green)
It is fitting that out of my window today there are icy branches, a snow covered driveway and the sturdy remains of a three day old snowman.
Fifty nine year old Ove drives a Saab and lives in a town in Sweden where winters are always snowy and the task of keeping a group of terrace houses in order seem to be Ove’s main purpose in life. He begins each day at six with an inspection of the houses surrounding a parking area; noting any cars that should not be in the residents’ bays; reading the sign forbidding vehicles from driving in the residential area and checking his own garage and tool shed, before he clears fresh snow from his path.
This man is constantly disagreeing with his neighbours, especially his fellow members of the residents committee. He has a strict routine and in his curmudgeonly way rebels against any opposition to his rules. Each chapter chronicles how Ove deals with interruptions from his fellow residents, council and social officials and of course the annoying cat.
There is very little that Ove cannot fix or suggest help for, whether it is how to bleed a radiator, fix a bicycle or teach a pregnant neighbour to drive.
Ove’s anger and conviction when he comes up against bureaucracy and the establishment know no bounds, particularly in one heart-breaking story of the unfair assessment of an elderly neighbour.
Fredrick Backman shows us a complex man who does not want to be alive, who’s exploits cause readers to laugh out loud and, often on the same page, weep in utter frustration and sorrow at his burdens, then ultimately cheer for this man called Ove. He is an amalgamation of Mr. Bean, Victor Meldrew, Basil Faulty and also has the blinkered judgement of Alan Bennett’s ‘Lady of Letters’ – but unlike these fictional beings Ove is real.
I believe there is a little of Ove in all of us. At the end of the book there are some multiple choice questions to determine how like Ove the reader is.
I do hope someone adapts this tale for the screen.
I know who I would cast as Ove, Rune, Parvenah, the man in the white shirt, Sonja, Lena - the journalist – all of them beautifully real and complete.
(Andie Green)
Howard’s End is on the Landing by Susan Hill
I wasn’t sure what to expect from this book. I thought that trailing through someone else’s book shelves might be a bit tedious - and in places it was. But I found her book quite fascinating. How coincidental that her year of reading from home should mirror our year of lockdown.
Her enthusiasm is infectious. The book is littered with the names of people she has met from the Literary world: Edith Sitwell, W H Auden, Stephen Fry to name a few. She was greatly influenced by the Bloomsbury Group: Virginia Woolf, E M Forster, Elizabeth Bowen etc.
She is very honest about not being able to read some of the classics, but she blames herself, not the authors or the books. She hasn’t read Orwell, apart from Animal Farm. Nor can she read Terry Pritchett, and she dislikes Science Fiction and Fantasy. We agree on that genre. I found her honesty refreshing. She also dislikes Electronic Readers, but that is understandable from someone who loves books as much as she does.
Books to her are all about the authors, so her collection of biographies and autobiographies is immense.
I was encouraged to read that she couldn’t enjoy Jane Austen, which made me feel much better. I think Jane Austen is a little too polite for Susan. I share her love of the more gritty novelists, like Dickens. She mentions Ronald Dahl in the children’s section and how children love to be scared and a bit irreverent.
Many of the books she mentions are out of print or difficult to get hold of, so her reading recommendations could be frustrating to find.
I enjoyed her appreciation of Ian Fleming and his James Bond; who wouldn’t having met the man himself? I shall now peruse the shelf of my husband’s original Penguin collection, and perhaps read one. That is what Susan does all through the book; encourage good reading.
She was infatuated with Virginia Woolf and sad not to have met her. She spent much of her time meeting great authors or friends of great authors and wanting to be part of their lives.
She succeeded in becoming a publisher, another passion in her life.
I find it strange that Howard’s End, the book she is searching for does not appear in her final forty, which is much too highbrow for me.
What a life she as had. What a fascinating array of people she has met. I am so - jealous!
This book reminded me of an autobiography by the well travelled Joanna Lumley, who takes you through each room of her four-story home, discussing the objects within and where they came from.
(Maggie Storer)
I wasn’t sure what to expect from this book. I thought that trailing through someone else’s book shelves might be a bit tedious - and in places it was. But I found her book quite fascinating. How coincidental that her year of reading from home should mirror our year of lockdown.
Her enthusiasm is infectious. The book is littered with the names of people she has met from the Literary world: Edith Sitwell, W H Auden, Stephen Fry to name a few. She was greatly influenced by the Bloomsbury Group: Virginia Woolf, E M Forster, Elizabeth Bowen etc.
She is very honest about not being able to read some of the classics, but she blames herself, not the authors or the books. She hasn’t read Orwell, apart from Animal Farm. Nor can she read Terry Pritchett, and she dislikes Science Fiction and Fantasy. We agree on that genre. I found her honesty refreshing. She also dislikes Electronic Readers, but that is understandable from someone who loves books as much as she does.
Books to her are all about the authors, so her collection of biographies and autobiographies is immense.
I was encouraged to read that she couldn’t enjoy Jane Austen, which made me feel much better. I think Jane Austen is a little too polite for Susan. I share her love of the more gritty novelists, like Dickens. She mentions Ronald Dahl in the children’s section and how children love to be scared and a bit irreverent.
Many of the books she mentions are out of print or difficult to get hold of, so her reading recommendations could be frustrating to find.
I enjoyed her appreciation of Ian Fleming and his James Bond; who wouldn’t having met the man himself? I shall now peruse the shelf of my husband’s original Penguin collection, and perhaps read one. That is what Susan does all through the book; encourage good reading.
She was infatuated with Virginia Woolf and sad not to have met her. She spent much of her time meeting great authors or friends of great authors and wanting to be part of their lives.
She succeeded in becoming a publisher, another passion in her life.
I find it strange that Howard’s End, the book she is searching for does not appear in her final forty, which is much too highbrow for me.
What a life she as had. What a fascinating array of people she has met. I am so - jealous!
This book reminded me of an autobiography by the well travelled Joanna Lumley, who takes you through each room of her four-story home, discussing the objects within and where they came from.
(Maggie Storer)
The Ambassador’s Daughter by Pam Jenoff
It was a relief to finish this book. It was too contrived, a disappointment. It’s set in a very interesting time period but failed to deliver on the historical aspects which were not explored as much as they could have been. It’s more romance than historical fiction so it feels like a lost opportunity. There were too many implausible twists and turns in the story seemingly brought about by random events, turning the action from one direction to another. We learn that she has actually married Stefan; just when Margot is going to tell her father the truth, he collapses with a heart attack; Georg collapses with pneumonia but makes a miraculous recovery; vanishing documents; her father has kept the secret about her mother, her mother is killed in a fire; Georg turns up at her uncle’s; Krysia is a spy; this enormous wedding is being planned seemingly by Celia alone. I think perhaps Georg will turn out to be an astronaut and fly the to the moon. Margot is hard to understand, like even. She is supposed to be a well-educated independent woman but her actions do not back this up. How could she be bored at such a time. She is allowed too many freedoms for the time period. Really, she’s an unpleasant and deceitful person. Too many lies and secrets. Margot does not appear over troubled that she is implicated in an assassination attempt, only that her father should not be blamed. It also struck me as strange that Krysia appears to know more about her father’s academic writings and activities than she does, stating that she has never read his work herself. Really? Even with Georg at the end she doesn’t tell him about Krysia. The book seems repetitive to me. Pam Jenoff over explains motivations as she goes along, but not in a convincing way. It needed a good edit. Too many Americanisms creeping into post war Europe. Had crinolines only recently been given up in 1919, did ambulances have sirens? Sorry, I sound very grumpy and I’m probably being over-critical, but this book irritated me. Unfortunately, this hasn’t inspired me to read Pam Jenoff’s other books. (Linda Birch) |
Must You Go? by Antonia Fraser
I was disappointed and totally underwhelmed by this book. I was left with the feeling that a book had been cobbled together from a collection of diary notes from Antonia Fraser's desk drawer. Of course, the book sold, because as the blurb explains, it's about Antonia Fraser's life with Harold Pinter. I was disinterested in their clandestine meetings and the eventual dissolution of two marriages. Then of course came their own wedding. They operate in the echelons of high society; cultural events, sparkling parties and we get loads of name-dropping without in depth narrative and learn little. They are famous – they are talented – and yes, he had a sad demise, but we'll all be getting one of those. The book left me cold and unsympathetic to their story and worrying whether its publication had been painful to her first husband and their six children. I think this is one book Lady Antonia should have left buried in her desk drawer. (Betty Taylor) |
The Ambassador’s Daughter by Pam Jenoff
The First World War is over and Margot finds herself accompanying her father, who is German Ambassador, to Paris for a world peace conference. She leaves behind Stefan, who has returned badly injured from the war. Unsure of her feelings for him, she is happy to escape and travel with her father. We see the story through the eyes of Margot, a German girl. The story is about the people she meets on her travels, how she becomes involved with them, particularly a pianist Krystia and her dubious friends, and Georg, a German Naval Officer who she has feelings for. It is about discovering herself and what is important to her future. I enjoyed the historical aspect of the story, but had to take into account the different way a young woman in the 1920s would react. I enjoyed the fact that the story keeps you guessing, right up to the last chapter, so I did want to finish the book. I wanted life to turn out well for Margot, but she was very naïve. Her constant thoughts, which seemed to change all the way through, were annoying. I felt as though the characters were being manipulated to suit the ending, and virtually anything could have happened. It didn’t feel genuine. I would recommend this book to those who like a historical romance in an old fashioned way. I’m not sure if I want to read the sequel. (Maggie Storer) |
An American Marriage by Tayari Jones
As a graduate in American literature I eagerly began ‘An American Marriage’ by professor of creative writing Tayari Jones. Endorsed on the cover by Barack Obama, plus a ‘winner of the Women’ s prize for fiction’ banner, I knew I was in for a lockdown reading adventure. The plot is on the surface uncomplicated and uses three voices to tell their individual interpretation of each event. Through the words of Celestial, Roy and Andre I changed my mind many times as to who was the strongest, weakest or most to blame for the devastating consequences. Black American history is intimately explored with many proofs and anger that has never diminished through centuries of hatred and injustice. Throughout this novel Tayari Jones, herself an Afro-Caribbean, is not teaching readers how it was- and still is -to be black in American, but for me her breath-taking exploration of love should be shouted and celebrated. I’m not giving anything away to quote this simple description of a beautiful woman as one example of the author’s sensitivity to her characters: …..This time she folded herself back onto the cushion like she was showing off all her hinges… Few relationships can survive when one lover is sentenced to a long time in prison. Innocent or not, the experience alters both lives. Throughout this narrative Roy and Celestial’s relationships with families and friends have to be explained and explored and those too keep the tension and the questions coming. I would not describe this as an easy escapist read but, I read it a chapter at a time to make the experience last, and I know this book and the brilliant portrayal of an ‘American Marriage’ will stay with me for a long time. (Andie Green) |
RECCOMENDATIONS (Maggie Storer)
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The Fry Chronicles by Stephen Fry
Super-brain Stephen Fry, whose intellect I have long admired, is in confessional mode. His story is humble, self-effacing, and honest. He owns up to some cringe-worthy misdemeanours, law-breaking, and mental health issues. A string of somewhat shocking revelations include his attempted suicide, a prison sentence at the age of 17 for credit card fraud, plus a bout of petty pilfering. He was still on probation when he went to Cambridge and admits to doing no work throughout his three years there. Fry first came into the public eye in 1981 as a member of the Cambridge Footlights Review - he was co-writer with his brainy cohorts, Hugh Laurie, Emma Thompson, and Tony Slattery. The dark deeds of his youth are soon side-lined by the amusing situations he encountered whilst rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous. It's clear that he doesn't appreciate pretentiousness. His wit is as sharp and shiny as that of Oscar Wilde. He tells us the truth, be it shocking or otherwise, with humour, compassion and recounts his escapades in sparkling prose. Much to my delight, his revelations knock one or two celebs from their self-important pedestals. |
His command of the English language is unsurpassable, awe inspiring, and worthy of envy. This is a book that will melt your heart, it may even inspire you to offer him a hug, and you'll readily forgive him anything.
Stephen Fry was eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder, the likely cause of his earlier rebellious behaviour,
(Betty Taylor)
Stephen Fry was eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder, the likely cause of his earlier rebellious behaviour,
(Betty Taylor)
The Photograph by Penelope Lively
This book should be labelled ‘essential reading for the would-be novelist’. Penelope Lively takes her reader into the characters’ lives to experience the memories and unvoiced resentments which quietly fester at the core of this story.
The clever plot structure has us joining the action after the main protagonist, Kath, has died. Amongst her things, her husband, Glynn, finds a photograph with a note saying ‘to be destroyed’ – it is a picture of Kath and her sister’s husband holding hands.
Glynn approaches his sixtieth birthday intent on discovering if Kath had been unfaithful.
As Glynn informs people of his discovery Kath’s influence on so many lives becomes apparent. Every one has a personal perception of Kath and learns something new about her and themselves as they ponder the consequences of Glynn’s revelation.
Each chapter is written from a different viewpoint – an element requiring careful handling - Penelope Lively excels.
Much of the story is revealed in flashback whilst current events are written in the present tense. The various viewpoints are delivered in third person. The narrative is so skilfully handled the reader is not confused.
A satisfying read and the message I gleaned: one’s self-perception may well be misconceived.
(Betty Taylor)
This book should be labelled ‘essential reading for the would-be novelist’. Penelope Lively takes her reader into the characters’ lives to experience the memories and unvoiced resentments which quietly fester at the core of this story.
The clever plot structure has us joining the action after the main protagonist, Kath, has died. Amongst her things, her husband, Glynn, finds a photograph with a note saying ‘to be destroyed’ – it is a picture of Kath and her sister’s husband holding hands.
Glynn approaches his sixtieth birthday intent on discovering if Kath had been unfaithful.
As Glynn informs people of his discovery Kath’s influence on so many lives becomes apparent. Every one has a personal perception of Kath and learns something new about her and themselves as they ponder the consequences of Glynn’s revelation.
Each chapter is written from a different viewpoint – an element requiring careful handling - Penelope Lively excels.
Much of the story is revealed in flashback whilst current events are written in the present tense. The various viewpoints are delivered in third person. The narrative is so skilfully handled the reader is not confused.
A satisfying read and the message I gleaned: one’s self-perception may well be misconceived.
(Betty Taylor)