Category: Fiction

We Had It So Good by Linda Grant

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Stephen Newman is getting older and is finding it difficult to come to terms with the way his life has turned out. What happened to his hopes and ambitions, to the generation that was going to change the world?

We Had It So Good follows the story of Stephen and his family over several decades during the second half of the twentieth century and the beginning of the twenty-first. At times reading this book was almost like watching one of those nostalgic television documentaries that show us snapshots of life in the 1960s and 70s. We learn about Stephen’s time at Oxford University where he met his future wife Andrea, how he made LSD in the chemistry lab, lived in a commune, went to the Isle of Wight festival and ate macrobiotic food. As we move forward through the 1980s and 1990s we see the early days of computers and the internet, and learn what it was like to be a photo-journalist reporting on the Bosnian War. And finally, we are brought right up to date with the tragedies of 9/11 and the 2005 London bombings.

As the years go by we see how Stephen and Andrea have changed over time, have had to abandon some of their dreams, and are leading more conventional lives – but with Stephen in particular there’s always that feeling of regret, that he’s settled for second-best, and he does at one point decide that “that was what life was, perennially settling for less”.

The book doesn’t have much of a plot, concentrating instead on painting a detailed and realistic portrait of the Newman family. Despite the lack of action though, there are still some moments of drama – mainly the types of small dramas that most people will experience in their lifetime – and there were even a few surprises and revelations that I didn’t see coming. The viewpoint switches from chapter to chapter allowing us to see things through the eyes of Stephen, Andrea, and several of the other characters. Sometimes I couldn’t immediately tell who was narrating, but this seemed to be intentional. The story also moves around in time, showing us the significant moments that have shaped the lives of each of the characters.

Linda Grant’s writing is of a high quality and she develops her characters in great detail from their appearance and the clothes they wear, to their likes and dislikes, hopes and fears. And yet throughout the first half of the book I didn’t feel any personal involvement in their story and always felt slightly detached from what was going on. Although the Newmans and their friends felt believable and real to me, I didn’t think I liked them enough to want to spend 340 pages reading about their everyday lives. But halfway through the book I started to warm to some of the characters and as a result, the story became more compelling. And once I had settled into the pace of the writing, I started to enjoy it.

It was interesting to see how Stephen as an American (with a Polish immigrant father and a Cuban mother) adapted to life in England, first at Oxford and then in London. And equally interesting when the family went to America and this time it was Andrea who had to readjust. I also liked reading about the relationship between Stephen and his father, Si. Stephen and Andrea’s daughter, Marianne, is another intriguing character. And this post wouldn’t be complete without mentioning Andrea’s best friend, Grace, who is quite a sad and solitary figure, still clinging to her ideals and travelling aimlessly round the world on her own, running away from her past and searching for something unobtainable. Although she’s not the most pleasant of people, with a hard, prickly personality, I was far more interested in Grace than in the Newmans.

I should point out that I’m probably not really the target audience for this book and although I did end up enjoying it, I can see that it would probably be appreciated more by readers of Stephen and Andrea’s generation. However, the book still left me with a lot of things to think about, from bigger issues such as immigration, family relationships and generational differences to the smaller ones, such as the principles behind the advertising of washing powder!

We Had It So Good was the January selection for the Virago Book Club. I received a copy from Virago for review.

Baba Yaga Laid an Egg by Dubravka Ugresic

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Baba Yaga Laid an Egg is part of the Myths series by Canongate Books, in which authors retell traditional myths from around the world in a new and original way. This book by Croatian author Dubravka Ugresic takes a fresh and unusual approach to the Slavic myth of Baba Yaga.

Baba Yaga (shown here in a painting by Viktor Vasnetsov – picture from Wikipedia in public domain) is usually portrayed as a hag or witch who lives in a log cabin mounted on a pair of chicken legs. She uses a giant mortar and pestle to fly through the air, kidnapping and threatening to eat small children. Although she has a terrifying appearance, Baba Yaga is also said to possess great wisdom and will sometimes give help and advice to anyone brave enough to ask.

Rather than simply reiterating this myth, Ugresic relates the myth to the lives of modern women and explores a large number of topics including ageing, feminism, love and loneliness. The book does not follow the format of a conventional novel and is divided into three separate and seemingly unconnected stories.

In the first story, the narrator travels to Varna in Bulgaria, the childhood home of her mother who is now old and ill. In the second story, we meet Beba, Pupa and Kukla, three old women who are staying together at a spa in the Czech Republic. But what is the connection between these two stories and what do they have to do with Baba Yaga? I have to admit, by this point I was starting to feel slightly confused. Yes, I had learned a lot about growing old, but how did all of these things relate to the myth of Baba Yaga? Luckily, I found the answers to my questions in the third and final section of the book.

Part 3 is presented as if a folklore expert was responding to a request for information about Baba Yaga and had been asked to explain the meaning of the first two sections. This part of the book was fascinating but began to feel like a very, very long encyclopedia entry. I previously knew almost nothing about Baba Yaga though, so it was good to learn something about the myth. I was also pleased at how well this final section pulled all the threads of the book together and helped me understand the significance of everything I had just been reading.

This book should appeal to anyone who has ever worried about growing old or anyone with an interest in mythology as it relates to feminism. I can’t honestly say that I loved this book or even that I particularly enjoyed it, but it was a very interesting concept and I’m glad I decided to give it a try.

Has anyone read any of the other Canongate Myths books. Are they similar to this one?

Virago Reading Week: The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim

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This is my second post for Virago Reading Week, hosted by Rachel of Book Snob and Carolyn of A Few of My Favourite Books. When I was choosing my books for this week, I knew it was time to try something by Elizabeth von Arnim, a writer whose work I had never read but who seems to be one of the most popular and most loved Virago authors.

The Enchanted April, first published in 1922, is the story of four women who rent a castle in Italy together one April. The women are strangers to each other at the beginning of the novel, but each of them has her own reasons for wanting a holiday. Spending a month at San Salvatore surrounded by sunshine and flowers gives each woman a chance to resolve her problems and try to find happiness.

Our four main characters have very different personalities and very different circumstances. First, there’s Lotty Wilkins who has grown tired of having her life controlled by her husband and is desperate to escape from him for a while. Calm, grave Rose Arbuthnot has the opposite problem: her husband is so wrapped up in his career that he barely remembers she exists:

To be missed, to be needed, from whatever motive, was, she thought, better than the complete loneliness of not being missed or needed at all.

Then there’s Lady Caroline Dester, also known as ‘Scrap’, who is bored with her life and just wants to be left alone. And finally there’s Mrs Fisher who, at sixty-five, is older than the others, and spends most of her time reminiscing about the past.

The story begins when Lotty and Rose meet for the first time in a Women’s Club in London one rainy afternoon and decide to respond to an advertisement in The Times:

To Those Who Appreciate Wistaria and Sunshine: Small mediaeval Italian Castle on the shores of the Mediterranean to be Let furnished for the month of April. Necessary servants remain. Z. Box 1000, The Times.

How could anyone resist answering an ad like that? However, they need to find another two ladies to help share the cost and this is where Lady Caroline and Mrs Fisher come into the story. All four of the female protagonists are interesting, complex people and I enjoyed seeing how they were transformed by their time in Italy. I think my favourite was probably Lady Caroline. She’s tired of being surrounded by people who only care about her looks and money and throughout the novel she attempts to keep her companions at a distance – but as the reader, we are given an insight into her mind and can understand her unhappiness.

People were exactly like flies. She wished there were nets for keeping them off too. She hit at them with words and frowns, and like the fly they slipped between her blows and were untouched. Worse than the fly, they seemed unaware that she had even tried to hit them. The fly at least did for a moment go away. With human beings the only way to get rid of them was to go away herself.

I’m so glad my first experience with von Arnim was a good one. I hadn’t expected something so readable and full of gentle humour and wit and yet with so much depth and such a lot of character development. I also loved the setting and the atmosphere. The images of Italy in the spring were beautifully described, with the sun shining and the flowers bursting into bloom. I defy anybody to read this story and not want to immediately book a trip to Italy this April!

As the title suggests, The Enchanted April is a lovely, enchanting story! After enjoying this one so much, I’ll definitely be reading more of Elizabeth von Arnim’s books – any suggestions as to which one I should read next?

Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese

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“I will not cut for stone, even for patients in whom the disease is manifest; I will leave this operation to be performed by practitioners, specialists in this art.” ~ the Hippocratic Oath

We’re in the middle of Virago Reading Week at the moment (I posted my thoughts on Rebecca West’s The Return of the Soldier on Tuesday and will be posting on The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim at the weekend) but today I want to talk about a non-Virago book I read earlier this month. It’s taken me a while to put this post together as I’ve had trouble finding the words to convey how wonderful the book was.

Cutting for Stone is the story of Marion and Shiva, the identical twin sons of Sister Mary Joseph Praise, an Indian nun, and Thomas Stone, a British surgeon, who are both working at Missing Hospital in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. When Mary Joseph Praise dies in childbirth, Thomas Stone is unable to cope and, refusing to take responsibility for his children, disappears from the hospital. It falls to two of Missing’s other doctors, Hema and Ghosh, to give the twins a loving home and ensure their safety amid the political instability and military coups that affected life in Ethiopia in the second half of the twentieth century.

Cutting for Stone has an epic feel, spanning several continents and several decades. Through the eyes of our narrator, Marion Stone, we meet the people who live in and around Missing Hospital from the Matron and the Staff Probationer to Thomas Stone’s former maid, Rosina, and her daughter, Genet, the girl Marion loves. All of the characters, even the less likeable ones, have a lot of depth and as we learn more about them, we are able to understand what makes them behave the way they do. But at the heart of the story is the relationship between Marion and Shiva. Conjoined twins, born attached at the head, they have a very special bond which is put to the test several times throughout the novel.

There are some very detailed and graphic descriptions of surgical procedures throughout the whole book. This didn’t really bother me, and a lot of it was very interesting, but I feel I should warn you so that those of you who are squeamish can be prepared! Without even reading the author bio, it was obvious that Abraham Verghese must be a doctor himself because the language he uses is very technical. The fact that the book was written by a physician gives it a real authenticity and the author’s own passion for medicine and healing shines through. Medical care in 1950s Ethiopia was very basic and I had a lot of sympathy for the Matron of Missing Hospital, who did her best for the patients under her care despite the limited resources available to her. I could really feel her frustration as the hospital patrons gave her Bibles in place of the medicine and food she so desperately needed.

I think this is the first book I’ve read that is set in Ethiopia. Before I started reading I knew almost nothing about the country and its political history, but this didn’t matter at all as everything was explained in a way that was both informative and easy to understand. Little facts and details were dropped into the story, building up a clear picture of Marion’s life in Ethiopia. I love books like this one that leave me feeling that I’ve really learned something new while being entertained by a great story at the same time!

Although I’ve had a copy of Cutting for Stone since last summer I wasn’t sure I would enjoy it and hadn’t felt like reading it until I saw how many people had named it as one of their top books of 2010 and I finally decided I’d better read it as soon as possible, in the hope that it might become one of my own top books of 2011. Well, even though it’s still only January, I can’t imagine I’ll be reading a lot of books this year that are better than this one.

Highly recommended.

Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand by Helen Simonson

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For some reason I have found this review very difficult to write and have started and re-started it several times. I think the problem is that Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand is a very simple novel, but also a very complex one. On one level it’s a gentle, romantic story about sixty-eight year old Major Ernest Pettigrew and his love for Mrs Jasmina Ali, the Pakistani woman who runs the village shop. But there’s so much more to the book than that. In Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, Helen Simonson explores a number of issues including racism, religion, loneliness, family relationships and tradition vs progress.

The book is set in the small English village of Edgecombe St Mary where Major Pettigrew, a retired British army officer, lives on his own at Rose Cottage. Both he and Mrs Ali have suffered recent bereavements and are starting to feel very alone in the world. The Major welcomes Mrs Ali’s friendship as she’s refreshingly different from the other women in Edgecombe St Mary; she’s quiet, dignified and shares his love of literature. Unfortunately, the Major’s middle-class friends and neighbours disapprove – they can’t think of Mrs Ali as anything other than the woman from the village shop. Meanwhile, Mrs Ali’s nephew, Abdul Wahid, is also unhappy about his aunt’s new relationship – he’s hoping she’ll move away to live with family so that he can take over the management of the shop. Can the Major and Mrs Ali overcome these obstacles and find happiness?

Major Pettigrew is a wonderful character, both endearing and annoying at the same time. It seemed to me that while he was accusing others of being judgmental, he was constantly making his own judgments about people: northerners, teenagers, Americans and even his own family and friends. However, he is never rude to other people and he does come to discover that some of his own prejudices are unfair. He has a certain amount of old-fashioned charm and I could sympathise with him as he tried to adapt to a rapidly-changing world. I loved him from the beginning because he was a polite, honourable person who genuinely wanted to do the right thing.

I also loved Mrs Ali. She wanted so much to be accepted by her neighbours but struggled to fit in with such a narrow-minded community where most of the other ladies were wrapped up in a world of parties, dances and committees, and didn’t even seem to realise how hurtful and insensitive some of their comments were. Almost all of the other characters, as seen through Major Pettigrew’s eyes, were loud, selfish and bad-mannered, which reflected the way the Major viewed the modern world. The Major’s son Roger was particularly obnoxious!

I really liked the setting of Edgecombe St Mary. Although the story was presumably supposed to be taking place in the 21st century, the descriptions of the village could have been from decades ago and showed a stark contrast with the commercialism and development that the Major hated so much.

If there was one thing that spoiled this book for me, it was a plot development near the end that I thought was unnecessarily dramatic and which felt completely out of place. Up to this point the story had been fairly slow-paced and subtle, concentrating on the small dramas of day to day life, and I would have preferred it to have continued this way to the end. Apart from this small criticism, I really enjoyed this book. Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand is a lovely, inspiring story and for such a gentle, leisurely read it was very difficult to put down!

The House on the Strand by Daphne du Maurier

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Dick Young is at a turning point in his life. He has recently left his job at a London publishing firm and needs to decide what he wants from his future. He’s been offered another job in New York and his American wife Vita wants him to accept it, but Dick’s not so sure. When his friend Professor Magnus Lane invites him to stay at his farmhouse in Cornwall for the summer, he agrees, looking forward to a few days of peace before Vita and his two stepsons join him. But when Dick arrives at Kilmarth, Magnus convinces him to take part in a secret experiment: he has developed a new drug which allows the user to travel back in time – and he wants Dick to test it for him…

Choosing to begin 2011 with a book by one of my favourite authors was the right decision. The House on the Strand is a strange and unusual book which blends historical fiction, science fiction, time travel and psychology. I loved it! In fact, it might even make my best of 2011 list at the end of the year. Although Rebecca is still my favourite Daphne du Maurier book, this one ties with The Scapegoat as my second favourite. It actually has a very similar mood and feel to The Scapegoat even though the plots of the two books are entirely different. Both books have a male narrator and both have themes of identity and escaping from reality.

I enjoy reading about time travel and this book took a slightly different approach to the question of time travel than any other book I’ve read. Rather than physically going back in time, it’s only Dick’s mind that travels while his body stays in the present – and as you can imagine, this has some disastrous and embarrassing results. The 14th century world that Dick witnesses when under the influence of the drug seems completely vivid and real to him, yet he’s unable to interact with any of the people he meets. He feels a special connection with Roger Kylmerth, steward to the Champernoune family, and also with the beautiful Isolda Carminowe. As Dick’s fascination with Roger and Isolda grows, he spends more and more time in the past and becomes increasingly dependent on the drug.

Du Maurier wrote this book in the late 1960s when psychedelic drugs such as LSD were at the height of their popularity and the drug which Magnus invents seems to be very similar to what I’ve read about LSD. As Dick becomes psychologically addicted to the drug, he gradually grows more distant and withdrawn and his relationships with his family start to suffer. His life in the present is portrayed as dull and boring in comparison to the vivid events of the 14th century and when seen through Dick’s eyes, Vita and her two sons are unlikeable and obnoxious. To me though, they were normal, reasonable people who were trying to make sense of their husband and stepfather’s bizarre behaviour.

Despite my own interest in history and historical fiction, I didn’t find the 14th century subplot particularly compelling. The story wasn’t very strong and there were too many characters with similar names who all seemed to be married to their cousins, which made it very difficult to keep all the relationships straight. I was constantly turning to the family tree at the front of the book and still couldn’t remember who was who. My advice to anyone reading The House on the Strand would be not to worry too much about following the 14th century story. By far the most interesting part of the book is the part which takes place in the present.

There were only one or two other negative points. First of all, I was disappointed that we didn’t get to know Magnus better, as I thought he was potentially the most interesting character in the book. Secondly, du Maurier made a point of describing the landscape and the locations of the various 14th century farmsteads and manor houses in great detail. I know this was supposed to show us how the appearance of the landscape had changed over the centuries (which is quite important to the plot), but I found it confusing and even by referring to the map at the front of the book, I couldn’t seem to build a picture in my mind of what the area looked like. Apart from these minor complaints though, I loved this book.

I’ve now read around half of du Maurier’s books. The good news is that I still have the other half to look forward to!

The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield

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The last book I read in 2010 was The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. This is a book that has been hugely popular with book bloggers over the last few years and as usual, I appear to be one of the last to read it. I don’t have any excuse for this other than that certain books just seem to pass me by!

The Thirteenth Tale is the story of the reclusive and secretive Vida Winter, the world’s most popular author. Despite Winter’s fame, her past is shrouded in mystery; every time a new book is published she agrees to be interviewed – and every time she gives the journalist a different version of her life story. Now that she’s approaching the end of her life, she decides it’s time to tell the truth and summons Margaret Lea to write her biography.

Margaret is surprised by the request – after all, she’s just an amateur biographer who works in her father’s bookshop – but she agrees to visit Miss Winter and listen to what she has to say. As the story of Winter’s childhood unfolds, Margaret discovers what it is they have in common and why she was chosen to write the biography.

The Thirteenth Tale borrows elements of classic novels such as Wuthering Heights, The Woman in White, Jane Eyre, and The Turn of the Screw and it felt instantly familiar to me: the Yorkshire moors, twins, mistaken identities, ghosts and governesses all play a part in the story. I’m not saying this book was unoriginal or an exact copy of any other novel – it wasn’t – but Diane Setterfield was obviously trying to capture the overall mood of those gothic classics. Not only are the books I just mentioned referred to over and over again in the story, but they are cleverly incorporated into the plot.

Yet despite the familiarity, I didn’t guess everything that was going to happen. When the solution to the mystery (or one of the mysteries, as there are a few) was revealed, it surprised me – although the clues had been there all along and I’m sure if I read the book again it would be obvious.

One thing that struck me while I was reading this book was that we are never told when the story was supposed to be set. There are no historical references to suggest when the events of the book are taking place. Even Margaret’s timeframe, although obviously fairly recent, is still vague. I’m sure this was deliberate and it does help to give the story a timeless feel, but I’m one of those readers who likes to know when a story is set!

I can see why The Thirteenth Tale has been so popular because it really is a book for book lovers, with lots of great quotes like this:

Do you know the feeling when you start reading a new book before the membrane of the last one has had time to close behind you? You leave the previous book with ideas and themes – characters even – caught in the fibers of your clothes, and when you open the new book, they are still with you.

And this:

Do they sense it, these dead writers, when their books are read? Does a pinprick of light appear in their darkness? Is their soul stirred by the feather touch of another mind reading theirs? I do hope so.

While I didn’t love this book as much as I hoped I would (which I suspect might just be because I’ve read too many books of this type recently), it was fun, entertaining and very quick to read for a book with over 450 pages. It was also a perfect read for late December – a book to curl up with indoors while it’s cold and dark outside.