Surfacing by Margaret Atwood – #MARM2025 #NovNov25

This isn’t the book I really wanted to read for this year’s Margaret Atwood Reading Month (hosted by Marcie of Buried in Print) – that would have been The Blind Assassin, but it’s such a long book I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish it in time. Surfacing is much shorter – in fact, at just under 200 pages in my edition, it also qualifies for Novellas in November – so I decided to read it instead. I suspect I would have enjoyed The Blind Assassin more, though; I found a lot to interest me in Surfacing, but I can’t say that I particularly loved it.

First published in 1972, the book is narrated by an unnamed woman who travels to her childhood home on a remote island in northern Quebec in search of her father, who has gone missing. She’s accompanied by her boyfriend, Joe, and another couple – her friend Anna and her husband, David. The narrator has never been back to the island since getting divorced years earlier as she felt too ashamed to talk to her parents about her marriage and why it ended. Now her mother is dead and her father’s old friend, Paul, has contacted her to tell her that her father has disappeared from his cabin by the lake.

Joe and David have brought a camera along with them, hoping to find some interesting scenes to film for a documentary they’re making called Random Samples. While they focus on that, the narrator tries to find out what has happened to her father, but it’s clear that even if she finds him she doesn’t particularly want to speak to him and that the whole experience is bringing back memories she has been trying to forget.

Suppressed memories coming back to the surface could be one explanation for the title of the novel; another is the psychological resurfacing of the narrator as she tries to move on from the past and go forward with her life. The lake which forms such a big part of the setting is also symbolic of hidden depths and things rising to the surface. As the book progresses we begin to see just how much the narrator has been hiding from us, from her friends and even from herself.

This is a sad, poignant story in many ways and the narrator is obviously deeply damaged by the traumatic events of her past. All she tells us about her marriage at first is that she had a husband once and there was a child, but it eventually emerges that there was more to the situation than she has revealed – and her failure to come to terms with what happened is impacting her new relationship with Joe. Meanwhile as we learn more about Anna and David, we see that their marriage is not a happy one either and is quite disturbing on several levels. There also seems to be a strong anti-American sentiment running through the book, with the narrator and her friends very hostile towards any Americans they meet; it’s not really explained why they feel like that, but I’m assuming the book is a product of its time. I did like the Quebec setting as I’ve read very little fiction set there and I was interested in the way Atwood writes about the barriers to communication between French and English speakers and how the narrator feels like an outsider in her father’s community because of her inability to speak fluent French.

I got quite a lot out of this book, then, but I also felt that there was a lot I didn’t really understand and didn’t know how to interpret. I found the insular, unreliable narrator difficult to connect with as much as I would have liked to and the other characters were either unpleasant or held at arm’s length by the narrator. It’s definitely not a favourite Atwood novel, but I’m still glad I read it and will look forward to reading The Blind Assassin when I have more time!

Seascraper by Benjamin Wood – #NovNov25

Several bloggers have been reading Benjamin Wood’s Booker Prize longlisted novella Seascraper for Novellas in November after our co-hosts Cathy and Rebecca named it their ‘buddy read’ for the month. I hadn’t decided whether to read it myself but when I discovered that it’s also going to be the starting point for Six Degrees of Separation in December, that helped me make up my mind!

Seascraper is set in an unspecified time period, which I managed to identify as the early 1960s (there are some references to Lawrence of Arabia, which was released in 1962). However, it feels much earlier than that due to the protagonist leading a life largely free of technology and doing a job that was done by his grandfather before him. His name is Thomas Flett and he’s a twenty-year-old man living with his mother in the fictional town of Longferry on the North West coast of England. Thomas has taught himself to play the guitar and dreams of becoming a folk singer, but that seems unlikely to happen because he and his mother rely on the money he makes through his work as a shanker, someone who catches shrimp by scraping the sand at low tide.

Thomas comes home one day to find his mother with a stranger, a man who introduces himself as the American director Edgar Acheson. Edgar is planning to make a new film with the Longferry beach as its setting and he offers to pay Thomas to guide him around the coastline, looking for suitable filming locations. Thomas accepts, as the money is too good to turn down, but when he and Edgar head out to the sea something happens which sets his life on a new course.

This is a quiet, simple story but also a powerful and atmospheric one. The author devotes a lot of time to describing the small, mundane details of Thomas’s daily routines, such as how he prepares his horse and cart for his early mornings shrimp fishing on the beach, so when Edgar Acheson arrives there’s a real sense of something momentous happening. The whole story takes place over a period of less than two days, but the events of those two days change everything for Thomas. Previously his whole world has revolved largely around his mother, who became pregnant with him at fifteen and has been shunned by the community as a result, but his new friendship with Edgar and an unexpected encounter with another person makes him reconsider what he really wants to do with his life.

Seascraper is a beautifully written novella and the coastal setting, with fog hanging over the sea and treacherous sinkpits in the sand, is vividly described. There’s a development later in the book that I would love to talk about, but I can’t really say any more about the plot without spoiling it. I wasn’t sure about this development at first, as it sent things in a direction I wasn’t anticipating, but now that I’ve finished I think it was the perfect way to move Thomas’s story forward. I’m so impressed by this book overall, particularly as it’s not one I was planning to read and I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did.

Air by John Boyne – #NovNov25

This is the fourth book in John Boyne’s Elements quartet. Having enjoyed Water, Earth and Fire, I’ve been very much looking forward to Air and the short length made it an obvious choice to read during Novellas in November (hosted by Cathy of 746 Books and Rebecca of Bookish Beck). Although each book has a different narrator and can be read as a standalone, there are links between all four, sometimes obvious and sometimes more subtle. It’s not essential to read them in order, but I would save this one until last if possible as it ties together some of the loose ends and provides closure for the characters. I’ve avoided spoilers for the first three books in the rest of my review, so don’t worry if you haven’t started the series yet!

Air tells the story of Aaron Umber and his fourteen-year-old son, Emmett, and a large part of the book is set onboard a plane (hence the title). The Umbers also have a family member who is a pilot – Boyne always works the relevant element into the story in multiple ways. At the start of the novella, Aaron and Emmett are at Sydney Airport, preparing to board a flight that will take them from their home in Australia across the world to Ireland, where Aaron hopes to reconnect with his ex-wife – and Emmett’s mother. The only problem is, he hasn’t told her that they’re coming.

As it’s such a long flight from Australia to Ireland (with a change in Dubai), Aaron has plenty of time to think and reflect on the circumstances that have brought him to this point. He looks back on his first encounters with the woman who would become his wife, the problems they experienced during their marriage and the reasons it ultimately ended in divorce. He also confronts his memories of the abuse he suffered as a teenager and his knowledge of the similar ordeals his wife went through before they met. Emmett has grown up unaware of any of this, but he’s beginning to ask questions and Aaron wonders if now could be the right time to tell him the truth.

Like the other books in the quartet, Air is a dark and sometimes disturbing read – although not as much so as the previous books as this one is concerned with moving on from trauma rather than describing the traumatic events themselves. Also, while the previous three narrators were morally ambiguous at best, completely evil at worst, Aaron is much easier to like and have sympathy for. I loved his relationship with his son, Emmett; it felt so real and believable and also very moving, though not in an overly sentimental way.

I have deliberately not revealed the name of Aaron’s ex-wife because she appears in one of the other books and I don’t want to spoil the surprise for anyone wanting to read the series through from the beginning. Other characters also appear again or are referred to, mainly those from Water and Fire. Earth feels less well integrated into the series as a whole, which is slightly disappointing as the other three books tie together so perfectly.

All four novellas are now available in one volume, published under the title Elements, but can still be bought separately as well.

The Ice Palace by Tarjei Vesaas – #NovNov25

Translated by Elizabeth Rokkan

After reading my first Tarjei Vesaas book, The Birds, in September, I couldn’t wait to read more of his work. Like The Birds, The Ice Palace has recently been reissued by Pushkin Press and as it’s a very short book I decided it would be perfect for this year’s Novellas in November (hosted by Cathy of 746 Books and Rebecca of Bookish Beck).

First published in 1963, The Ice Palace is the story of two young Norwegian girls, Siss and Unn. Siss is popular, outgoing and the leader of her group of friends at school, yet when the shy, quiet Unn arrives in the village to live with her aunt, Siss is immediately drawn to this girl who seems to be her complete opposite. Soon, Unn invites her back to her house after school and Siss accepts – but when she arrives, the evening doesn’t go quite as she expected. The two girls look at each other in a mirror, then Unn persuades Siss, without explanation, that they should both undress. Unn then confesses that she has a secret, something she’s not able to tell her aunt, but she doesn’t say what it is. Uneasy and uncomfortable, Siss quickly leaves and goes home, feeling disturbed by the experience.

The next day, Unn feels embarrassed and decides not to go to school. Instead, she visits the huge frozen waterfall known as ‘the ice palace’. The last we see of her is when she enters the icy caverns behind the frozen water – she doesn’t return to school or to her aunt’s house and no one has any idea what has happened to her. As Unn’s only friend, Siss is put under pressure to tell the adults anything she knows, but Siss is still confused by her own emotions and struggling to come to terms with the whole situation.

This is a beautifully written novel and the cold, icy imagery is hauntingly atmospheric. The chapter in which Unn discovers the ice palace – ‘an enchanted world of small pinnacles, gables, frosted domes, soft curves and confused tracery’ – is particularly vivid and eerie. The book also has a lot to say about grief, loss and loneliness, exploring the impact of Unn’s disappearance on her aunt, on the community and particularly on Siss.

I did find the book very ambiguous, with a lot left open to interpretation. For example, we are never told what the secret was that Unn was trying to share with Siss and it’s not quite clear what exactly happened between the two girls the evening before Unn disappears. It’s strongly implied, of course, that their interactions have sexual connotations, although I found that a bit unsettling as the girls are only supposed to be eleven years old. I felt it would have worked better if they had been a few years older – but on the other hand, Vesaas obviously intended this to be an uncomfortable book to read, so he achieved his aim there.

Of the two Vesaas books I’ve read, I preferred The Birds as I felt a stronger connection with the main character and found his story more moving, but both are excellent. This one is also a novella, which means I’m counting it as my first read for this year’s Novellas in November!

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

The Birds by Tarjei Vesaas

Translated by Torbjørn Støverud and Michael Barnes

Tarjei Vesaas is a completely new author for me, but when I saw two new editions of his books available from Pushkin Press in English translations, I was intrigued by both of them. I decided to start with The Birds, which sounded fascinating. On the front cover, the author Karl Ove Knausgaard describes it as ‘the best Norwegian novel ever’.

The Birds is a short but powerful book. It’s the story of Mattis, a Norwegian man in his late thirties who sees the world differently. Today he would be described as having a mental disability, but Mattis lives in a time when people are not always so sensitive. He’s aware that his neighbours talk about him behind his back and that the village children call him Simple Simon. He has never been able to hold down a steady job and lives with his older sister, Hege, who supports them both through her knitting.

Mattis has low self-esteem and is afraid of what will happen to him if his sister ever leaves, but he is still able to find pleasure in the small things in life, such as the appearance of a woodcock which begins to fly over their house at night. Although nobody else seems to care, to Mattis this is an important, momentous event and the bird and its fate eventually become symbolic of himself. Another, equally significant event is the arrival of Jørgen, a lumberjack with whom Hege falls in love. Convinced that she’ll go away with Jørgen and abandon him, Mattis struggles to cope with this unwelcome change in his life.

This book was published in 1957 and I was impressed by how sensitively and convincingly Vesaas writes about Mattis and his disabilities. He knows he’s not like other people, which makes him feel inadequate and isolated, so any little victory means a lot to him. I found it very moving to see the joy he feels when two young women are kind to him and his sense of pride when he finally starts his own business as ferryman (despite there never being any passengers). I also had a lot of sympathy for Hege. Although we only really see her through Mattis’ eyes, it’s clear that the situation is equally difficult for her. She loves her brother and is protective of him, but at the same time she feels tired, trapped and frustrated. Life seems to be passing her by, so when she finally gets a chance of happiness, she doesn’t want to lose it.

The Birds is a sad, poignant novel but also has some moments of hope and inspiration and is beautifully written, in a simple, gentle way. I loved it and am now looking forward to reading The Ice Palace which sounds just as good.

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

The Six Murders of Daphne St Clair by MacKenzie Common

Daphne St Clair is a ninety-year-old grandmother in poor health who lives at Coconut Grove Senior Home in Florida. Probably not anyone’s idea of a typical serial killer, but when another elderly resident is found dead in the home, Daphne calls the police and confesses to not only this murder but several more, spanning four states, two countries and seven decades. The police, Daphne’s family and the public are both shocked and intrigued – what could have made Daphne want to kill so many people? And why has she chosen to confess now, at this late stage of her life?

When the news of Daphne’s confession begins to spread, she is contacted by journalists and reporters wanting to be first to tell her story, but she turns them all down – except one. Ruth Robinson hopes to start a podcast about Daphne’s life and even has a title ready for it – The Murders of Daphne St Clair. Something draws Daphne to the younger woman and she agrees to be interviewed for the podcast, but as her story unfolds she begins to discover that there’s more to Ruth than meets the eye. Who is Ruth Robinson and what’s the real reason for the podcast?

I had never heard of MacKenzie Common (it seems she has previously written a YA mystery novel, although this is her first book for adults), but I was attracted by the elegant, eye-catching cover and the premise of a ninety-year-old serial killer who had spent her whole life literally getting away with murder! I did enjoy the book, with a few reservations which I’ll mention later in this review, but overall it was quite an entertaining read.

Daphne’s tale begins in Canada in the 1930s, where she grew up on a farm near a small town in Saskatchewan. After a difficult childhood, Daphne runs away from home at the age of sixteen and makes her way to Winnipeg, where she meets the man who will become her first victim. He’s an unpleasant, violent man and his death is more of an accident than a murder, so at this stage of the book, Daphne seems a sympathetic character. This quickly changes as Daphne’s actions become more senseless and inexcusable and she shows no repentance for what she has done. I disliked her more and more as the novel progressed, but at the same time, she’s a clever, witty narrator and her story is engaging.

The structure of the book was a problem for me. Daphne’s narrative is broken into short sections, some of which are written in her own first person perspective and some in the form of dialogue for the podcast. These are then interspersed with chapters from Ruth’s perspective as she carries out some investigations of her own into Daphne’s background and one particular murder that is of special interest to her. I felt that the switches from one character to the other happened too quickly and too often, which stopped the story from flowing as well as it could have done. On top of this, there are also frequent interruptions from true crime fans discussing the show on Reddit and speculating on who Daphne is going to kill next, and a fashion blogger on TikTok who imagines outfits Daphne may have worn at key moments in her life. I could have done without these as well, but they do illustrate the moral issues of treating criminals like celebrities.

The ending of the novel leaves an important question unanswered; we can decide for ourselves what happened (or what we would have liked to have happened) but I would have preferred to know for certain! This wasn’t a perfect book, then, but not many are and there were definitely more things I liked than disliked.

Thanks to Headline/Mountain Leopard Press for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Stepdaughter by Caroline Blackwood

I’ve never read anything by Caroline Blackwood, but decided to try this book as I was intrigued by the comparisons to authors like Shirley Jackson and Patricia Highsmith. Although she wrote several novels, short story collections and works of non-fiction, Blackwood, who was a Guinness heiress, seems to have been better known as a socialite and muse (she inspired the art of Lucian Freud and the poetry of Robert Lowell, two of her three husbands). She really deserves to be known for her own work as well as her influence on other people’s and I’m glad to see that some of her books, including this one, have been reissued recently.

The Stepdaughter was first published in 1976 and is novella length, which is a perfect way to try out a new author without having to commit to something longer. The book is narrated by a woman referred to only as J, and takes the form of letters she is ‘writing’ in her mind to an imaginary friend. J has been deserted by Arnold, her husband, who has gone to live in Paris with his French girlfriend, leaving her behind in an expensive Manhattan apartment with their four-year-old daughter and an au pair, whom she dislikes. There’s also a fourth member of the household – Renata, her husband’s teenage daughter from a previous marriage. It seems clear to J that Arnold will only allow her to go on living in the apartment if she continues to look after Renata. The only problem is, she hates the girl, resents her presence and can’t even bear to look at her.

The narrator’s attitude towards Renata is horrible. It’s obvious to the reader that Renata, who is still just a child, is desperately unhappy and in need of love and affection. However, this doesn’t seem to occur to J (or maybe it does, but she doesn’t care). She sees her stepdaughter as someone to be despised – an awkward, overweight, unattractive girl whose only interests are baking and eating cakes and sitting in her bedroom watching television. J uses her imaginary letters as an outlet to express her feelings about Renata and as the book progresses she becomes more and more fixated on her hatred of the girl, blaming her for everything that’s wrong in her life.

The situation in the apartment sounds unbearable, for J but particularly for poor Renata, so it’s not surprising that eventually things do inevitably reach a turning point. It’s not a happy ending and not what I would have preferred, but at least J manages to redeem herself a tiny bit, gaining a deeper understanding of both herself and Renata and regretting that things have happened the way they have. Although J’s sheer nastiness and cruelty make this book an uncomfortable and unsettling read, it’s also a very compelling one. It wouldn’t feel right to say that I ‘enjoyed’ it, but I was gripped by it and read it in one day. It would be a good choice for Novellas in November, if anyone is planning that far ahead!

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

Book 2/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.