Close to Death by Anthony Horowitz

At some point in our lives, many of us will have to deal with the problem of difficult neighbours. Loud music and late-night parties, badly-behaved children, disputes over parking and damage caused by cats and dogs are all things that can make life stressful – but most of us wouldn’t resort to murder as a solution. However, that is exactly what seems to have happened at Riverview Close, a street of six large, luxurious houses in an affluent area of London.

The residents of Riverview Close include a doctor, a dentist, a retired lawyer, a chess grandmaster and two former nuns, all of whom have been getting on well together and leading peaceful lives. Everything changes with the arrival of Giles Kenworthy and his family, who are noisy and inconsiderate and succeed in annoying everyone else in the Close. When the residents learn that the Kenworthys are planning to cut down a beautiful tree and build a new swimming pool in its place, they decide to hold a meeting to discuss the situation – but a few weeks later the problem is solved anyway, as Giles is found dead, having been shot with a crossbow.

Five years later, author Anthony Horowitz (who uses himself as a character in his own novels) is looking for a subject for his new book. His previous four have been accounts of mysteries he has investigated alongside the private detective Daniel Hawthorne, but it seems there are no new mysteries to solve – and his publisher is putting pressure on him to start writing. Anthony decides to write about one of Hawthorne’s older cases instead, which happens to be the murder of Giles Kenworthy. Hawthorne agrees to share the details of the investigation with him, but warns him that the ending isn’t very satisfactory.

With large sections of the book set in the past and written in the third person from the perspectives of the residents of Riverview Close, this means Horowitz himself plays a much smaller part in this novel than he did in the earlier books in the series (the first one is The Word is Murder, if you’re wondering). Although I love these books, I know there are a lot of readers who find it irritating and egotistical of Horowitz to use himself as a character, but I think that would be less of a problem with this particular novel.

Because we see less of Anthony, there’s also less time spent on his interactions with Hawthorne, which is a shame as that’s one of my favourite things about this series. I had hoped to learn more about Hawthorne as each book has been slowly adding to our understanding of his character and background, but there aren’t really any major revelations about him in this instalment. There are lots of other interesting characters to get to know, though, including the members of the various households that make up Riverview Close; I particularly enjoyed meeting the two old ladies, May and Phyllis, who used to be nuns but now own a tea shop/book shop that sounds like a great place to visit!

They did not stock any modern, violent crime novels, especially ones that contained bad language. A casual reader looking for Harlan Coben, Shari Lapena, Ian Rankin or even James M. Cain (The Postman Always Rings Twice) would have to continue down the hill to Waterstones at the corner. What they specialised in – exclusively – was cosy crime.

They also stocked a range of gifts that were all crime-related, including the Agatha Christie tea towel May had used to wipe her hands. Other novelties included a Sherlock Holmes magnifying glass, Midsomer Murders mugs and T-shirts, Cluedo jigsaw puzzles and a box of assorted chocolates marked ‘POISONED’, a tribute to the great novel by Anthony Berkeley.

The mystery itself is an interesting one as all of the suspects have the same motive – Giles Kenworthy’s selfish, inconsiderate behaviour – and although I was convinced I had guessed the culprit correctly, it turned out I was wrong. I did wonder why Horowitz (the character) didn’t just look up the solution to the murder on the internet rather than waiting for Hawthorne to tell him the story bit by bit and getting frustrated about not knowing the ending, but that’s just a minor quibble. I’ll look forward to the next book in this series, assuming that there’s going to be one, but I’ll also continue to hope for a new book in the Magpie Murders series!

Thanks to Century for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Sufferance by Charles Palliser

Charles Palliser is probably best known as the author of The Quincunx, a long and twisty Dickensian novel which I read and loved years ago, but he has also written five more books including The Unburied and this new one, Sufferance.

Sufferance is a strange novel as none of the characters are named – not even the narrator – and we are not told where or when the story is set. However, it’s obvious enough that we are reading about an occupied European city during the Second World War and at the start of the novel, the Enemy has divided the city into Western and Eastern Zones. We also know that our narrator is a respectable, law-abiding man who works for the government and has a wife and two teenage daughters.

When the narrator’s youngest daughter brings a friend home from school and explains that the girl’s parents have become trapped in the other zone, unable to return to their house, he thinks he is doing the right thing by inviting her to stay with them until her parents come back. He doesn’t expect it to be for long – and it seems that the girl’s parents are wealthy people, who might repay the family for their kindness when they return. Unfortunately, a series of government announcements makes it clear that the girl belongs to a ‘protected community’, who are gradually having their rights taken away and are being closely monitored by the Enemy occupiers.

As the weeks and months go by with no news of the girl’s parents, our narrator and his wife become increasingly anxious and afraid. What will happen if the authorities discover that they are sheltering one of the protected community? To make things worse, the girl has proved to be a selfish, manipulative person who seems ungrateful for the help she has been given and completely unaware of the danger all of them are facing. Tensions within the family start to build as they struggle to agree on how to deal with the situation, but things are only going to get worse the longer they wait.

This is an excellent novel; the vagueness surrounding names, dates and places, which I could have found irritating in another book, is used very effectively here to create a sinister, unsettling atmosphere. Although the historical parallels are very obvious, we are left with the impression that the things described could happen anywhere, at any time and to anybody. The sense of fear and desperation felt by the narrator comes across very strongly, as with the introduction of identity cards, rationing and new laws regarding the girl’s community, he becomes aware that he is committing a crime.

Sufferance is a fascinating exploration of how each decision we make can have serious consequences and how quickly things can spiral out of control. I loved it and really must find time to re-read The Quincunx!

Thanks to Guernica Editions for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

A Different Sound: Stories by Mid-Century Women Writers edited by Lucy Scholes

This is a fascinating collection of short stories, all written by women and originally published in the 1940s and 50s. When I saw the list of authors included in the book, there were several I’d already read, others I’d heard of but never read, and a few that were completely new to me. There are eleven stories in total and as always when writing about collections like this, I’ll have more to say about some of them than others!

There’s only one story in this collection that I’ve read before – and that’s The Birds by Daphne du Maurier. As she’s one of my favourite authors, I decided to read it again and found it just as wonderful and atmospheric as I did the first time. Rather than discuss it again here, I’ll direct you to my previous review and will just add that even if you’ve seen the Hitchcock film, I would still recommend reading the story which is quite different in several ways.

Elizabeth Jane Howard is an author I’m familiar with through her Cazalet Chronicles (I’ve read the first two books in the series and am planning to read the others) and she is represented here with Three Miles Up, an eerie story in which two men are taking a trip through the countryside on a canal boat when they encounter a young woman called Sharon. Once Sharon joins them on the boat, things begin to go wrong and they find themselves sailing up a canal that doesn’t appear on any maps. I loved this one, although I wasn’t aware that Howard wrote ghost stories so it wasn’t what I’d expected at all.

The other two authors I’ve read previously are Stella Gibbons and Elizabeth Taylor. The Gibbons story, Listen to the Magnolias, is set during the war and involves an elderly widow nervously awaiting the arrival of five American soldiers who will be billeted in her home, while Taylor’s The Thames Spread Out follows a woman who is trapped upstairs in her house during a flood while swans swim at the bottom of her staircase. I liked both of these, particularly the second.

Apart from The Birds, my favourite story in the book turned out to be The Skylight by Penelope Mortimer, in which a woman and her young son rent a house in a remote area of France but arrive to find the doors all locked and no sign of the owners. The only point of access is an open skylight in the roof and the mother makes a decision she quickly comes to regret. Mortimer creates a real sense of fear and tension in this story and I couldn’t wait to reach the end to find out if everything was going to be okay!

Considering the publication dates, the Second World War naturally plays a part in many of these stories – I’ve already mentioned the Stella Gibbons, but another is Diana Gardner’s wonderful story, The Land Girl, about a young woman placed on a farm as a Land Girl who takes an instant dislike to the woman whose home she is staying in and decides, out of spite and jealousy, to cause trouble for her.

The stories above are the ones that really stood out for me in this collection, but I enjoyed all of them to some extent, apart from maybe Elizabeth Bowen’s Summer Night which I found well written but confusing due to the structure and changing perpectives. I was also slightly disappointed by Sylvia Townsend Warner’s Scorched Earth Policy about an elderly couple preparing for a wartime invasion, simply because it was too short for any real plot or character development. It was nice to discover some authors I’d never come across before, though: Frances Bellerby, who in The Cut Finger tells the story of a little girl learning some important lessons about the world; Inez Holden whose Shocking Weather, Isn’t It? follows a woman who visits her cousin in various different places over the years; and Attia Hosain who explores the feelings of a newly married woman struggling to fit in with her husband’s friends in The First Party.

I can definitely recommend this collection; I found something to interest me in every story, even the ones I didn’t enjoy as much. I also now have a list of authors I need to explore further!

Thanks to Pushkin Press Classics for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Opening Night by Ngaio Marsh

Opening Night (also published as Night at the Vulcan) is the sixteenth book in Ngaio Marsh’s Inspector Roderick Alleyn series and like many of her novels has a theatrical setting, which makes it perfect for Reading the Theatre, hosted this month by Lory of Entering the Enchanted Castle.

Published in 1951, the novel opens with Martyn Tarne, a young woman from New Zealand, arriving in London to look for acting work. After an exhausting day of unsuccessful auditions and meetings with agents, she eventually finds herself at the door of the Vulcan Theatre where rehearsals are about to begin for a new play, Thus to Revisit. Disappointingly, the play has already been cast, but there’s a vacancy for a dresser to the leading actress, Helena Hamilton, and Martyn finds herself accepting the job.

The next 100+ pages (of a 240 page book) are devoted to describing the backstage preparations for the play, Martyn’s work as first a dresser and then an understudy, and the relationships and interactions between the various members of the cast. There is no hint of any crime until we reach the middle of the book and no sign of Inspector Alleyn either until after the halfway point. I think how much you enjoy this novel will depend on whether you picked it up just because you wanted to read a murder mystery or because you were drawn to the setting.

The crime, when it eventually occurs, involves the death on opening night of one of the actors, Clark Bennington, who is found unconscious backstage after inhaling gas. Suicide is assumed – everyone knows that Bennington has been unhappy and has a drinking problem – but when Alleyn arrives to investigate, he quickly decides that the man was murdered. There are plenty of suspects and motives; for a start, Bennington was married to Helena Hamilton, who has openly been having an affair with one of the other actors, Adam Poole. Also, Bennington is known to have had several heated arguments and altercations before and during the opening night. And to complicate things further, Martyn Tarne’s arrival at the Vulcan has not been welcomed by everyone, least of all Gay Gainsford, a young actress who feels that her role in the company is threatened by Martyn.

Although I would have preferred the murder to have come earlier in the book, once it does happen and Alleyn’s investigation gets under way, the mystery becomes quite an interesting and compelling one. I guessed who the murderer was, but not the motive – and I think it would be very difficult to work that out before it’s revealed right at the end of the book. The mystery is definitely secondary to the setting in this novel, though; Ngaio Marsh herself was a theatre director and her love and knowledge of the theatre comes through very strongly.

Have you read any of Marsh’s Inspector Alleyn novels, theatrical or otherwise? I’ve read very little of her work compared to other Golden Age crime writers so would love to hear your recommendations.

Water Baby by Chioma Okereke

One of the things I love about reading is that it can take you to places you’ve never visited in real life and are never likely to. Chioma Okereke’s new novel, Water Baby, is set somewhere I knew absolutely nothing about: Makoko, a community built on and around a lagoon in the Nigerian city of Lagos. Although it may sound idyllic, that’s sadly not the case. Makoko, as Okereke describes it, is a place where most of the inhabitants are living in poverty, where the lagoon is dirty and polluted and drug use is a widespread problem. It has become known as Africa’s ‘biggest floating slum’.

The heroine of Okereke’s story is nineteen-year-old Yemoja, nicknamed Baby by her father. Since leaving school, Baby has been earning her living by rowing passengers across the water in her canoe, Charlie-Boy, named after her beloved younger brother, but she and her friends dream of one day experiencing a different way of life. However, with her father trying to push her into marriage with Samson, a neighbour who repairs boats, and with a large family of younger cousins to help care for, the possibility of leaving Makoko seems remote.

Things finally begin to change for Baby when she hears about a newly launched project using drones to create maps of Makoko, increasing the profile and visibility of their settlement. Young women from the community, known as ‘Dream Girls’, are being trained to pilot the drones and Baby is desperate to get involved, despite her father’s distrust of the project. When someone takes a photograph of her on the lagoon, mistaking her for a Dream Girl, the image soon goes viral on social media and Baby finds she has become a celebrity overnight. The opportunity arises for her to represent Makoko at a conference in Switzerland, but will this be the start of a new life for Baby or will she decide that her future lies at home after all?

I thought this book was fascinating, mainly because of the setting and the insights it gave me into a lifestyle so completely different from my own. Okereke describes Makoko so vividly I could already picture what it looked like even before searching for photos to see it for myself. The lives of the people of Makoko are already difficult – making your home on a lagoon means facing problems with sanitation, electricity supplies and running water, not to mention access to education and medical care – but they are also in an unusually vulnerable position regarding climate change:

There used to be more vessels on the horizon, but year on year that’s changing. From the shrinking lagoon size and lesser quantities of fish to water levels rising alongside the rubbish enveloping us. From manmade disasters to unthinkable diseases. Life is always throwing something at us, but we hold our ground.

I liked Baby, but some of the other characters were less well developed; in particular I felt that I never fully got to know her love interest, Prince. I did find Baby’s relationship with her little brother Charlie Boy very moving, though, for reasons that I can’t really explain here without spoiling the story! Although Baby and her friends are fictional characters, the Code for Africa mapping project and the Dream Girls are real and I found it interesting to read more about them after finishing the book.

Thanks to Quercus for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Rosabelle Shaw by D.E. Stevenson – #1937Club

My third and final book for 1937 Club, hosted by Stuck in a Book and Kaggsy’s Bookish Ramblings, is Rosabelle Shaw (also published as The Story of Rosabelle Shaw) an early novel by D.E. Stevenson. Wikipedia describes Stevenson as an author of ‘light romantic novels’, but I have read several of her books and although some of them fit that description, others (such as her dystopian novel, The Empty World) do not. This is another that is not a typical Stevenson novel and I found it suprisingly dark.

The novel begins in 1890s Edinburgh with Fanny Dinwiddie, a pretty, lively young woman, who catches the eye of John Shaw, a farmer visiting the city on business. For John, it’s love at first sight and it’s not long before he is heading back to Shaws, his farm near the Scottish coast, with Fanny as his wife. It takes Fanny a while to adjust to her new home – she has left behind her father and beloved sister, Alison, and she misses the social life of Edinburgh – but eventually she begins to settle in and make friends and soon a daughter, Rosabelle, is born. At this point, I was expecting a gentle, domestic novel about the life of a farmer’s wife on a Scottish farm…but I was wrong.

When Rosabelle is three years old, a ship is lured onto the rocks near Shaws farm during a storm. John thinks he knows who is responsible for causing the wreck and is filled with guilt for not doing more to stop it, but is able to make amends by rescuing and informally adopting the only survivor of the disaster, a small child with whom Fanny immediately forms a bond. Nobody knows the little boy’s name or the identities of his real parents, so John and Fanny raise him with their own children and name him Jay. From the moment Jay enters their lives, tensions begin to form in the Shaw household. Unlike Rosabelle and her real brother and sister, Jay is a deceitful, jealous and manipulative child determined to get his own way. John struggles to like the boy, while for Fanny he can do no wrong, causing the first real disagreements of their married life.

Moving forward several years, we meet the Shaw children again as young adults. Rosabelle has begun to look at Jay in a different light, captivated by his good looks and charisma, and begins to fall in love, much to the dismay of her neighbour Tom, who was hoping to marry Rosabelle himself. But there could still be a chance for Tom after all, because Jay is about to bring shame on the Shaw family and betray their kindness and generosity, breaking the hearts of both Rosabelle and Fanny.

I found Rosabelle Shaw quite enjoyable, but it seems to have had mainly negative reviews, maybe because the melodramatic, almost Gothic feel isn’t what you would expect from Stevenson. A lot of people have also complained about the racism, which I noticed as well – it’s definitely implied that because Jay arrived on a foreign ship and is possibly Spanish, he is naturally sly and untrustworthy, unlike the good, honourable Scottish characters. The book reminded me very much of Wuthering Heights, with Jay being similar to Heathcliff, who is also of unknown parentage and nationality and causes nothing but trouble for the Earnshaw family (Rosabelle is obviously in the role of Catherine Earnshaw, who falls in love with her adopted brother).

The book takes on a slightly different tone towards the end when, in 1914, war breaks out and brings big changes to our characters’ lives. From this point, the focus of the book shifts away from Jay to concentrate on the war and how it affects the family at Shaws. I thought it was a fascinating novel, but it won’t appeal to everyone and there are probably better places to start if you’re new to Stevenson. For me, though, it was another good choice for 1937 Club!

Caroline England by Noel Streatfeild – #1937Club

My second book for this week’s 1937 Club (hosted by Stuck in a Book and Kaggsy’s Bookish Ramblings) is by an author who was a childhood favourite but whose adult fiction I’ve only recently begun to explore. I loved her 1940 novel, The Winter is Past, set during the early stages of World War II, so when I saw that Caroline England was published in 1937 it seemed a perfect choice for the club.

The novel begins in 1870 with the birth of Caroline Torrys, the first child born to James and Selina Torrys of Milston Manor in Kent. The Manor has belonged to the Torrys family since the 16th century and James, desperate for a male heir, is disappointed with the arrival of a baby daughter. As the years go by and Selina becomes weak and worn down with her efforts to please her husband and produce a son, Caroline is raised in the nursery by a strict and often cruel nurse. Growing up nervous and anxious, with her spirit broken, Caroline eventually finds a way of escape when she falls in love with a writer, John England, and elopes with him. Caroline’s upper class family disapprove of John, whose father owns a shop, and she is cut off from the Torrys and her beloved Milston Manor.

The next part of the book follows Caroline through her marriage to John and the birth of her own children, whom she vows to treat with the kindness and affection she herself was starved of as a child. However, as her children grow older she finds that they don’t necessarily want her ‘interfering in their lives’ – and that John is the one demanding her time and attention. We then get to know Caroline’s children as adults and see how the family copes during World War I and its aftermath until finally, in the last section of the book, we join Caroline as a grandmother, living in a world that has changed beyond recognition.

I’ve probably given the impression that this book is very depressing – and it’s true that despite her privileged start in life, things are difficult for Caroline at times – but it’s not as bleak and miserable as it sounds. Although Caroline’s experience of being a wife and mother is not quite as blissful as she had hoped, she makes the most of what she has and finds happiness where she can. She also grows and changes as a person, as the post-war world grows and changes around her and the social system she once took for granted begins to collapse. By the end of the book, Milston Manor no longer belongs to the Torrys family and is being converted into a hotel, while Caroline herself is forced to think differently when she gets to know her son’s working-class fiancée, a woman she would have once considered ‘not our sort’.

I found the first section of the book, describing Caroline’s childhood, the most compelling because Streatfeild writes about child characters so convincingly. It was so interesting to read her portrayal of Caroline’s life in the nursery and the different methods used by her first nurse, the warm and loving Naomi, and the cold, abusive woman who takes her place, and then to see how Caroline’s upbringing affects her own choices as an adult. The later chapters, which concentrate more on Caroline’s sons and daughters, interested me slightly less, but I often find that to be the case when a family saga moves on to the next generation.

Of the two adult Streatfeild novels I’ve read, I preferred The Winter is Past as it was more tightly plotted, whereas this one covers a much longer period of time and has less focus. I enjoyed both, though, and look forward to trying some of her others.