Category: Fiction

A Small Circus by Hans Fallada

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Of all the books I read last year, my favourite was Hans Fallada’s Alone in Berlin (US title Every Man Dies Alone), the story of a German couple who decide to resist the Nazi regime after their son is killed fighting in the war. It was such an exciting, moving and powerful book, and when I saw that Penguin Classics were publishing a new translation of another of Fallada’s novels, A Small Circus, I couldn’t wait to read it.

A Small Circus is set in and around Altholm, a fictional German town, in 1929. Within the town there are lots of different groups and factions who are all in conflict with each other, including the mayor, various political parties, farmers, journalists and the police. None of these opposing groups are able to cooperate and work together. The novel describes the events leading up to and following a demonstration by the protesting farmers which ends in violence, causing things to quickly spiral out of control.

I have to admit, based on the synopsis alone this was not the kind of book I would normally have chosen to read but I decided to give it a chance anyway, remembering how much I had loved Alone in Berlin. And I really wanted to love A Small Circus too, but I have to be honest and say that, for me, this book was a big disappointment. I found the plot confusing and difficult to follow, partly because of my lack of knowledge of early 20th century Germany and the politics involved, but also because so much of the story was told through dialogue. Almost two thirds of the novel is written in the form of dialogue (according to the Foreword) and it was just too much for me.

I also disliked the translation style. Obviously I haven’t read the original German edition of this book from 1931 so I don’t know what Fallada’s actual writing was like, but this translation feels too modern and full of words and phrases that I wouldn’t have thought would have been used at the time. I’m sure there will be a lot of other readers who will love this lively, slang-filled style, but it didn’t have any appeal for me personally. Alone in Berlin was translated by the same person, Michael Hofmann, but for some reason the language in that book didn’t bother me at all, maybe because I was so gripped by the story.

A bigger problem for me was that there wasn’t a single character in the book that I liked. I can see that I probably wasn’t intended to like them, and this was maybe the whole point of the story (to show the effects of hatred, violence and corruption on a small town and how this was being replicated across Germany, opening the way for the Nazis), but it didn’t make it much fun to read. It’s really important for me to have at least one or two characters that I can enjoy reading about or connect with in some way, but without exception I found everyone in A Small Circus greedy and selfish, with few or no redeeming qualities. And not only were there no heroes to side with, there were no great villains that I could love to hate either – just a lot of very unpleasant people.

I want to finish this very negative post by pointing out that although I didn’t enjoy it very much I didn’t actually think this was a bad book. For the right type of reader, A Small Circus would probably be a fascinating read and the other reviews I’ve seen have been mostly very positive. Unfortunately I was obviously not the right type of reader for this book, though I think I would still be prepared to try more of Fallada’s novels in the future.

Jamaica Inn by Daphne du Maurier (re-read)

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After her mother’s death, Mary Yellan goes to live with her Aunt Patience and Uncle Joss at their inn on Bodmin Moor in Cornwall. But during the coach journey to her new home, Mary hears some disturbing things about Jamaica Inn and its landlord. Soon Mary makes her own shocking discoveries about Joss Merlyn’s activities and finds herself drawn into his villainous schemes while trying to protect her frightened, nervous Aunt Patience. And when Mary is befriended by two very different men – one of them her uncle’s horse thief brother, Jem Merlyn, and the other Francis Davey, the albino vicar of Altarnun – she must decide which, if either, she can trust.

This was actually a re-read for me, although it’s been so long since I first read it that all the details of the plot had completely faded from my mind. What I did remember was being disappointed. When I read it for the first time it was immediately after finishing Rebecca (which I loved – and which is still one of my favourite books ever) and Jamaica Inn just wasn’t as good. This was more than ten years ago though, so I recently decided to give it a second chance. And I did enjoy the book much more this time than I did the first time, maybe because now that I’ve read so many of du Maurier’s other novels it meant I could consider Jamaica Inn in the context of a wider body of work rather than solely in comparison with Rebecca.

Like many of du Maurier’s other books, this one is dark, gothic and atmospheric. Published in 1936 but set in the early 1800s, it has a lot of the traditional elements you would expect to find in a gothic novel (stormy weather, smugglers, locked rooms, shipwrecks, desolate moors, a remote, lonely inn). There are also some memorable characters – Mary herself is an intelligent and courageous heroine, and I know I said that I couldn’t remember much from my previous read, but I certainly hadn’t forgotten the character of her violent, brutal Uncle Joss!

So, Jamaica Inn is not one of my favourite du Maurier novels but not my least favourite either. It does not have the depth and complexity of Rebecca or some of her later novels, but then this one was written near the beginning of her career and is a good early example of her work. The plot is not particularly complicated and I found it quite predictable but du Maurier’s skill at creating tension and suspense meant that I still enjoyed reading it.

I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith

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This is a book I feel I should have read long before now, but for one reason or another I just never got round to it. So when Iris suggested a readalong in January I decided it was time I finally read it! And yes, I loved it, and really wished I hadn’t waited so long.

I Capture the Castle has one of those famous opening lines you may have heard of even without having read the book: “I write this sitting in the kitchen sink”. ‘This’ being the diary of seventeen-year-old Cassandra Mortmain, written first in a ‘sixpenny book’ then a ‘shilling book’ and finally a ‘two-guinea book’.

Cassandra lives in a crumbling castle in the English countryside with her eccentric novelist father, her glamorous stepmother Topaz who works as an artist’s model, her beautiful older sister Rose and younger brother Thomas – and Stephen, the son of one of the Mortmains’ old servants, who has become almost part of the family. Cassandra’s father wrote one very successful book, Jacob Wrestling, many years earlier but has been suffering from writer’s block ever since and the family are struggling financially. But when they meet the two rich American brothers, Simon and Neil Cotton, who have inherited the estate of which the castle is part, everything begins to change for the Mortmains.

This novel was published in the 1940s but the feelings and emotions Cassandra describes in her journal are timeless. Cassandra is having the usual problems and concerns that any teenager might have: coming to terms with growing up, falling in love, a changing relationship with her sister and other family members, and wondering what the future might hold. There are many novels with teenage narrators that deal with the same issues, but there are two things that really set this one apart: one is the unusual setting – the castle and its eccentric inhabitants – and the other is the voice of Cassandra herself.

Cassandra is such an engaging narrator, it would be difficult not to like her. Although she is very observant and perceptive, she also has an endearing innocence and vulnerability that leads one character to describe her (unfairly) as ‘consciously naïve’. Of all the things I liked about this book, it was Cassandra’s voice and personality that I loved the most. Through the pages of her journal she really does succeed in ‘capturing’ the castle and everyone who lives there. Some of the stories she shares with us are very funny, for example there’s a hilarious scene involving Rose and a big black fur coat, but along with the humour there are also some moments of sadness and poignancy. I was quite happy with the way the book ended too – not all of the loose ends are tied up, but I liked the fact that Dodie Smith chose a slightly unexpected way to finish the story.

Two from Mary Stewart: Rose Cottage and Touch Not the Cat

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After reading the wonderful Nine Coaches Waiting last month, I was desperate to read more Mary Stewart novels. The one I picked up next, Rose Cottage, probably wasn’t the best choice to follow up such a great book as Nine Coaches Waiting, but I was limited by what was available in my library at the time.

Rose Cottage is set in 1947 at Todhall, a large estate in the north east of England, and is narrated by Kate Herrick. Kate grew up in a cottage on the estate and was raised by her grandmother, a servant working for Todhall’s owners, the Brandons. The end of World War II has brought many changes: Todhall is being converted into a hotel and Kate’s grandmother has moved to Scotland with the Brandon family, leaving Rose Cottage unoccupied. Kate, who has been left a widow following the war, agrees to spend a few days at the cottage, going through some private papers that her grandmother had left behind. When she arrives there, however, she discovers that someone else has been there before her – and as she begins to investigate, she starts to uncover some surprising secrets about her own past.

If I had to describe Rose Cottage in one word, I think that word would be ‘pleasant’. The setting is certainly very pleasant, with some lovely, vivid descriptions of the countryside, with birds singing in the trees and flowers blooming in the meadows. The characters are pleasant too. It would be difficult not to love Kate and in fact, almost all of the characters are very easy to like – there are no villains in this book. Sometimes, though, ‘pleasant’ isn’t enough for me. I did find Rose Cottage quite enjoyable but there was nothing very special or memorable about it. The plot was a simple one, and although there was just enough suspense to keep me interested until the end, it wasn’t hard to predict what was going to happen. If this had been my first experience of Mary Stewart I probably wouldn’t have wanted to read any more of her books, so if you’re new to her work I think it might be best to leave this one until you’ve read some of her other novels first.

Since finishing Rose Cottage a couple of weeks ago I have now read a third Mary Stewart book, Touch Not the Cat, which was more to my taste and, in my opinion, a much better book. This story is set on another country estate in England – Ashley Court, complete with a moat and a maze. When Bryony Ashley’s father is involved in a fatal road accident in Bavaria, he lives long enough to leave her a cryptic message, warning her that she could be in danger. After his death Bryony returns to Ashley Court where she begins to investigate the meaning of his dying words. However, she also has another mystery to solve – for as long as she can remember, Bryony has had a secret ‘lover’ who she communicates with using telepathy. Her lover has never identified himself, but she suspects it must be one of her three cousins, Emory, James or Francis. Will she ever discover his true identity?

I really enjoyed this book. After a slow start the pace soon picked up and the story had the page turning qualities that Rose Cottage lacked. As the various threads of the story came together and secrets were revealed, things started to get quite exciting. The telepathy aspect of the story gave it a touch of the supernatural, but this was never overused and as a result it didn’t feel unbelievable. And it wasn’t immediately obvious to me who Bryony’s mysterious lover would be, so I was kept guessing for a while. I also liked the Romeo and Juliet references at the beginning of each chapter, which gave a hint as to what was going to happen in the pages that followed.

So, Rose Cottage and Touch Not the Cat – two books by the same author and two very different reading experiences for me!

The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh

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Victoria Jones has spent the first eighteen years of her life being moved from one foster home and care home to another. On her eighteenth birthday she is released from the care system and sent out into the world with no qualifications and no skills other than her knowledge of flowers and what they mean. When Victoria is offered a job as a florist’s assistant she finally has a chance to turn her life around, but first she needs to confront a secret from her past.

Interspersed with this storyline, we are given flashbacks to an earlier period in Victoria’s life, when she was nine years old and living with one of her foster parents, Elizabeth. There are hints that something traumatic happened during this time, but we don’t find out what it was until near the end of the book. I liked the way the story was told in short, alternating chapters, divided almost equally between Victoria’s present and her past because structuring the novel in this way meant we could slowly piece together a vivid picture of Victoria and the moments that shaped her life. It also helped sustain some suspense and mystery throughout the book, making us wonder exactly what happened while Victoria was living with Elizabeth.

I did enjoy The Language of Flowers, but I think I would have enjoyed it a lot more if Victoria had been a character I had liked or could relate to in any way. I can appreciate that the author was trying to show the effects of a troubled childhood on a person’s emotions and social interactions, and I did sympathise with Victoria – I could see why she was so insecure and why she was afraid to get too close to anyone. I don’t really know anything about the US foster care system (or fostering in general) and while I’m sure the majority of foster parents genuinely want to give the child in their care a loving home, it’s sad to think there might really be children like Victoria who have had some bad experiences. So I could understand why Victoria behaved the way she did, but she continued to frustrate me throughout the entire book and I never quite managed to connect with her at all.

On a more positive note, I did love the ‘language of flowers’ aspect of the book. I really like the idea of people secretly communicating using flowers. I thought the ways in which Vanessa Diffenbaugh incorporated the flower meanings into the novel were cleverly done and as I have absolutely no knowledge of the subject myself, I appreciated the inclusion of Victoria’s Flower Dictionary at the back of the book!

For me, then, I think The Language of Flowers was a book where I liked the concept of the story better than the story itself. Don’t let me put you off reading it though, because I know not all readers will have the problem I had with Victoria – and apart from that, this was not a bad book at all.

The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey

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Eowyn Ivey’s first novel, The Snow Child, is set in 1920s Alaska, where Mabel and her husband Jack are planning to start a new life. Mabel is still grieving for her still-born child and sees the move to Alaska as a chance to come to terms with the fact that she’s never going to be a mother. But things are proving to be a lot harder than she expected – clearing the land for farming is too much work for Jack, food is becoming scarce, and Mabel is beginning to feel lonely and desperate.

When the first snow of the winter arrives, Mabel and Jack decide to build a child from snow. By morning the snow child has gone and Jack catches a glimpse of a little girl running through the trees. But as Faina slowly becomes a part of Jack and Mabel’s lives, they begin to wonder: is she a real child or has she been created from two people’s hope and love?

If this story sounds familiar, that’s because it’s inspired by an old Russian fairy tale, Snegurochka, or The Snow Maiden. The story has been retold many times over the years but this book takes a fresh approach by combining the feel of a timeless fairy tale with the harsh realities of life as a homesteader in early 20th century Alaska.

The novel has a very small number of characters, which is to be expected considering that the area of Alaska in which Mabel and Jack lived was very sparsely populated. Something I thought the author managed to convey very well was the complete isolation Jack and Mabel experienced during their early days in Alaska and the many dangers they faced, including starvation, ‘cabin fever’, and the risks of injury or sickness in a place where even the closest town is too small to have a doctor.

Among the few other people we do meet are a neighbouring family, George and Esther Benson and their three sons. I particularly loved the character of Esther: a woman who knew what had to be done to survive in the wilderness and was prepared to do it. And as for Faina herself, I thought she was a fascinating character, mysterious and otherworldly but with a charm and vulnerability that made it easy to understand why a lonely middle-aged couple would welcome her into their lives.

But my favourite thing about The Snow Child is the stunning setting Eowyn Ivey has chosen for her story. Her knowledge and love of Alaska comes through in the beautifully written descriptions of the snowy landscapes, complete with frozen rivers, swirling snowflakes and icy mountain ridges. It’s all very atmospheric and the perfect backdrop for such an enchanting and magical story.

The Snow Child will be published in February 2012 and I can promise you it’s worth waiting for. It really is a lovely story and a very impressive debut novel from Eowyn Ivey.

Thanks to Headline for sending me a review copy of this book.

The Land of Green Ginger by Winifred Holtby

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The Land of Green Ginger is the second Winifred Holtby book I’ve read, the first being South Riding, which I read (and loved) in February. This one was published a few years earlier than South Riding, in 1927.

It’s the story of a missionary’s daughter, Joanna Burton, who is born in South Africa but raised in England by her aunts. As a young woman, Joanna is a lively, high-spirited person who dreams of travelling and visiting faraway lands. Then during the First World War she falls in love with Teddy Leigh, a young man on his way to fight in the trenches in France, and they get married.

When Teddy returns from the war to their home in Yorkshire, he is in poor health and Joanna finds herself caring for an invalid husband, managing a farm, and trying to look after their two small children, Patricia and Pamela. Life is hard for Joanna and the only person she can rely on for help is their Hungarian lodger, Paul Szermai. But Joanna has never been popular with the neighbours and when people begin to gossip about her relationship with Szermai, things become even more challenging for the Leigh family.

There are some interesting subplots too, including the tale Paul Szermai shares with Joanna of his life in Hungary and other parts of Europe and how it was affected by war and communism. We also see the attitudes of the local people to the group of immigrant workers who have been employed in Joanna’s village and for whom Szermai is acting as interpreter. Holtby does a good job of portraying a small rural community who are suspicious of outsiders and of anything that might change their way of life.

Although I found Paul Szermai and Teddy Leigh difficult to like, Holtby still managed to make me feel some sympathy for all of her main characters: Szermai, because of his tragic history; Teddy, frustrated by the sickness that is keeping him confined to his bed; and of course, Joanna who has had to abandon all her earlier dreams and ambitions, yet still shows a lot of naivety and innocence. Joanna seems to be unaware of how she is perceived by other people and as a result she never quite manages to fit into life in a small village where everybody knows everybody else’s business.

So The Land of Green Ginger is a dark and emotional book, but the ending leaves us feeling more hopeful. It doesn’t have the same depth and scope as South Riding, but I really like Winifred Holtby’s writing and this is still a compelling story. And finally, I want to mention how much I love the covers of the new Virago editions of Holtby’s books!