Clear by Carys Davies – #ReadingWales25

Clear is a book I hadn’t really considered reading until it appeared on the Walter Scott Prize longlist in February and I was pleased that I was still able to get a copy through NetGalley. Carys Davies is also a Welsh author, which is perfect for Reading Wales Month ’25, hosted this year by Karen at BookerTalk.

Clear is a beautifully written novella set in 1843 and telling the story of a friendship that forms between two men who should be enemies. John Ferguson is one of many evangelical ministers who have broken away from their church to form the Free Church of Scotland. Having given up his job and his home to establish this new church, John is struggling financially and, out of desperation, accepts an offer of work from a landowner who wants him to travel to a remote Scottish island and evict the last remaining tenant from the land. Forced evictions like these, known as Clearances, have been happening all over the Scottish Highlands as landlords remove the people living on their estates so that they can use the land for other purposes such as sheep farming. It’s a traumatic and often cruel process and not something John is looking forward to being part of.

The man John will have to evict is Ivar, who has lived alone on his island in the far north of Scotland since the deaths of his remaining family members. It’s an isolated life, but Ivar is content and has his horse, Pegi, for company. One day, he finds a man unconscious on the beach under the cliffs and takes him to his home to nurse him back to health. This is John Ferguson, who has met with an accident soon after arriving on the island. Ivar finds a picture of John’s wife, Mary, in his belongings and becomes infatuated with her, the first woman he’s seen for a long time – but as the injured man begins to recover, Ivar switches his affections to John himself. He has no idea why John is there, however, and because the two men speak different languages, he’s unable to ask.

Language forms an important part of the novel. Ivar speaks only Norn, a now extinct language once spoken in Shetland and Orkney, and John speaks English with a small amount of Scots. Over the course of the book, we see how two men unable to communicate in words are still able to bond and connect until eventually they do begin to learn each other’s language. In her author’s note Davies explains how the novel was inspired by Jakob Jakobsen’s Etymological Dictionary of the Norn Language in Shetland and she scatters Norn words throughout the book with a glossary at the back. Norn appears to have been a fascinating language; John is surprised to discover how descriptive it is and how many different words there are for mist, fog, wind and other types of weather.

Some parts of the novel are written from the perspective of Mary, John’s wife, who becomes concerned about the work her husband has been sent to do – she’s heard that the evictions can be unpleasant and violent – and decides to follow him to the island. I enjoyed reading Mary’s story and thought her sections of the book perfectly complemented Ivar and John’s. Mary’s thread of the novel comes together with the others near the end, and although I’m not going to tell you how the book ends I can say that it wasn’t what I expected but I was quite happy with it!

Carys Davies’ writing is beautiful and also very readable and I found this a quick, absorbing read. For such a short book, there’s a lot packed inside it. It reminded me a lot of Claire Keegan’s novella Small Things Like These, so if you enjoyed one book I would recommend trying the other.

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

The Lost Passenger by Frances Quinn

Frances Quinn’s That Bonesetter Woman was one of my books of the year in 2022 and I didn’t really expect her new one, The Lost Passenger, to live up to it. Well, I’m pleased to say that I thought it was even better!

The novel begins in England in 1910. Nineteen-year-old Elinor Hayward is the daughter of a wealthy Manchester mill owner known as ‘the cotton king’, but when she marries Frederick Coombes, the son and heir of Lord and Lady Storton, she finds herself being looked down upon by her aristocratic in-laws. It seems that nothing she says or does is good enough for them and although Frederick himself is not unkind, it quickly becomes obvious that he doesn’t love her and it’s not going to be the happy marriage she had dreamed about. Worse still, when their first child, Teddy, is born, he is immediately taken away to be raised by a nanny and it is made clear to Elinor that she’s to have very little involvement in his upbringing.

After two unhappy years, Elinor is thrilled when her father buys tickets for the Titanic and invites her to join him on the ship’s maiden voyage, along with Frederick and Teddy. It’s a chance to see more of the world, but also to finally spend some precious time with her little boy. Of course, the voyage ends in tragedy but Elinor and Teddy are lucky enough to be rescued after the ship goes down. When asked for her name so a list of survivors can be compiled, it occurs to Elinor that this is the only opportunity she’s ever going to have to escape from her old life. Before she has time to really think about the consequences, she finds herself giving another woman’s name and taking on a fake identity. But will she be able to avoid being caught – and will the new life she builds for herself in New York be worth the deception?

Frances Quinn has a real gift for creating characters the reader can get behind and root for. I liked Elinor from the beginning and she had my full sympathy in having to deal with the vicious snobbery of Lady Storton and the disappointment of a loveless marriage. Her life with Frederick and his family is so stifling and unhappy that even though the decision she makes after the sinking of the Titanic is questionable, it’s also very understandable. Although this first section of the novel is quite slow, I think it was necessary for Quinn to spend plenty of time showing us how trapped Elinor felt and how desperate she had become.

Many books have been written about the Titanic, but this one is different. The Titanic is not the main focus of the story but is a starting point to explore how Elinor makes the most of the second chance she has been given. However, I still felt that Quinn handles the disaster sensitively and with respect for the victims. She writes about the failings of the evacuation process, the conditions experienced by those who make it into a lifeboat and the realisation that there’s no hope for the hundreds left on board, but she doesn’t go into too much detail on any of these things. Instead of concentrating on the disaster itself, she focuses more on the survivors and how they try to cope with the trauma they’ve suffered and move forward with their lives.

The second half of the book is devoted to Elinor’s arrival in New York and how she goes about trying to build a happier future for herself and Teddy. I’m deliberately not saying much more because I want you to enjoy discovering the rest of Elinor’s story for yourself (everything else I’ve talked about so far is already touched on in the publisher’s blurb for the book). It’s both fascinating and inspirational to see how Elinor is able to create a whole new life out of the ruins of her old one, but at the same time there’s always the risk that someone who knew her before could see her and give her away her secret.

I loved this book and as I haven’t read her first one, The Smallest Man, yet, I still have something to look forward to!

Thanks to Simon and Schuster UK for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Impossible Thing by Belinda Bauer

I loved this! I remember enjoying Belinda Bauer’s first two books, Blacklands and Darkside, around the time they were published in 2009 and 2011 respectively, but I seemed to lose track of her work after that. When this one caught my eye, I decided to give it a try and I’m very pleased that I did. The plot is completely different from any other crime novel I’ve read.

The Impossible Thing is a novel set in two different periods almost one hundred years apart and linked by the same crime – the theft and illegal trading of wild birds’ eggs. In 1926, gangs of ‘egg-climmers’ gather on the Yorkshire coast and lower each other from ropes over the cliffs to steal eggs from the seabirds nesting there. Traders and collectors are willing to hand over large sums of money for the most rare and beautiful eggs, so when little Celie Sheppard from Metland Farm makes the dangerous descent through a crack in a ledge of rock and obtains a perfect red guillemot egg, it creates a sensation.

In the present day, in rural Wales, Patrick Fort decides to visit his friend, Nick, and arrives just in time to discover that both Nick and his mother have been tied up and robbed. The only thing stolen is an old wooden box containing a red egg. Nick had found the egg in the attic and put it on eBay, only for it to be taken down almost immediately for breaching eBay’s policy on selling illegal items. It seems that, even in the short space of time it was advertised, someone saw it, tracked it down to Nick’s address and decided they must have it no matter what. Although Nick had no idea that owning birds’ eggs was illegal, he is afraid to admit to the police that he had one, so he and Patrick set out to find the thief themselves.

This is definitely the first book I’ve read about egg trafficking! It’s an unusual subject for a crime novel, but Bauer builds a story around it that I found completely fascinating and unexpectedly exciting. I assumed that everything in the book was fictional, so I was interested to learn that the red Metland Egg really existed – or to be more accurate, Metland Eggs, as one was collected every year for over twenty years from the same location on the Bempton Cliffs near Bridlington. Something I learned from the novel is that female guillemots lay only one egg a year and if it is stolen, they will return to the same spot the following year to lay an almost identical egg. It made me feel sad to think of the bird that laid the red eggs never actually getting to see one hatch and I’m so glad that the Protection of Birds Act 1954 made egg theft illegal in the UK – even though it hasn’t stopped it completely, it’s a big step in the right direction.

Patrick Fort, the main character in the present day sections of the novel, was apparently introduced in a previous Belinda Bauer novel, Rubbernecker, which I haven’t read. I can see why she decided to bring him back for a second book, because he’s a very engaging, intelligent and likeable character. Patrick has a form of autism which affects his social interactions, but he has a good friend in Nick, who understands why he sometimes behaves the way he does. I loved seeing them work together to hunt down the egg thieves and I must go back and read about their earlier adventures in Rubbernecker!

The historical sections are also very well done and the scenes where young Celie Sheppard is dangled over the cliff in search of the eggs are very dramatic; I can’t imagine how dangerous and terrifying that would be, yet Celie did it year after year from such an early age. At least she was rewarded financially for her efforts, at a time of poverty when her family desperately needed the money. It was interesting to see how big and well organised the egg trafficking industry was in those days, with collectors and traders prepared to go to great lengths – and great expense – to obtain the rarest and most unusual eggs.

I picked a great book for my return to Belinda Bauer after such a long time and am looking forward to reading the others that I’ve missed.

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

Island Song by Pepsi Demacque-Crockett

Pepsi Demacque-Crockett has had a successful career in music as a backing singer for Wham! and then as a member of the duo Pepsi and Shirlie. Although she was born in London, her parents came to England from St Lucia in the Caribbean, and this forms the inspiration for Island Song, her debut novel.

Island Song is set in the 1950s. Agnes Deterville and her sister, Ella, who live in the village of Canaries on the island of St Lucia, are two very different people. As the quiet, cautious older sister, Ella can’t imagine leaving her island home and knows that she’ll never want to live anywhere else. Agnes is bolder and more adventurous, ready to follow her dreams and seize new opportunities. Working as a housekeeper for an English family, the Chesters, Agnes is captivated by Mrs Chester’s descriptions of her home country and longs to see it for herself. Hearing that people from the Caribbean have been invited to help rebuild post-war Britain, she decides to use her savings to travel to London.

Agnes has two young children from a failed relationship, whom she leaves behind with Ella, and her intention is to return to St Lucia as soon as she’s made enough money to improve the lives of the whole family. However, everything changes when, soon after arriving in England, she falls in love with another new immigrant, Raphael Toussaint. Agnes and Raphael come from the same village and she knows him by his bad reputation, but meeting him again in London he seems to be a different person and assures her that he has changed. Agnes wants to believe him, but how can she know he’s telling the truth?

Island Song is a fascinating exploration of the experiences of immigrants and the way in which people often build up an image of something in their mind that isn’t matched by reality. Having listened to Mrs Chester’s idyllic tales of her life in Dorset, Agnes expects something similar when she arrives in London and is shocked to find that this isn’t the case. Rather than sipping tea in elegant drawing rooms, she’s working in a kitchen making tea for other people, while being bullied by her boss. Similarly, Raphael comes to London hoping to make a fortune, but instead spends several months unemployed before eventually finding a lowly job painting walls for a construction company. They – like the rest of the Caribbean community – face racism, discrimination and even violence, but also make new friends amongst both immigrants and white British people who give them the confidence that not everyone in their new country wants them to leave.

Agnes is a strong character and I did like her, but I found Raphael more interesting because he goes through more growth and development throughout the novel. He has a drinking problem and is easily influenced by his friends, but he also has a kind heart and does genuinely seem to want to change and be a good partner to Agnes. I really wanted them to find happiness, both in their relationship and in their working lives. Ella is another character who grows as a person as the book progresses. Although most of the focus is on the characters who have left the island, we do catch up with Ella now and then and see how she’s gradually able to move on from some bad experiences in her past and gain the confidence to take control of her own life.

Demacque-Crockett writes beautifully about St Lucia and her love for her own heritage shines through in the London sections of the novel as well. The English spoken by her St Lucian characters is peppered with Kwéyòl, a French-based Creole language, and we see the immigrants trying to adapt to British culture while at the same time trying to retain parts of their own culture, such as their favourite foods and music. I really enjoyed this book and I hope Demacque-Crockett will write another one!

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

Woman in Blue by Douglas Bruton – #ReadIndies

There’s clearly something about the paintings of Johannes Vermeer that inspires novelists; first, Tracy Chevalier’s Girl With a Pearl Earring and now Douglas Bruton’s excellent Woman in Blue, which is published today. This is the second of Bruton’s books I’ve read, the first being 2021’s Blue Postcards and apart from the shared word in the title (Bruton certainly seems to like the colour blue!) and the shared theme of art and artists, I found this one very different in style and structure.

The novel begins in the present day with our unnamed narrator, referred to only as ‘a man in Amsterdam’, visiting the Rijksmuseum to look at a painting. Just one painting, which he has become so obsessed with that he barely notices any of the others. The painting is Vermeer’s Woman in Blue Reading a Letter and the narrator returns to the museum day after day to study the colours and the composition, but most of all just to spend time in the woman in blue’s company and to imagine the human being who inspired the picture. He’s transfixed by this particular painting for its own sake, but also because the woman reminds him in subtle ways of both his wife and another woman he once loved.

In 17th century Delft, we meet the woman in blue herself – or rather, the young woman who sits for Vermeer as he paints her portrait. Her chapters alternate with the present day ones, slowly building up a history of the woman in blue, her life in Delft and her relationship with the artist. In reality, the true identity of the sitter has never been confirmed (Vermeer’s wife, Catharina Bolnes, has been suggested as a likely candidate, but it seems there’s no actual evidence to prove it), so Bruton has the freedom to create his own fictional story for the woman, whom he names Angelieke.

Although the book is set in two different time periods and narrated by two different characters, the lines dividing the two are blurred. Angelieke is a real woman in 1663, but in the modern day sections, she’s aware that she is a painting in a museum and that the male narrator comes to see her every day. She looks forward to his visits and feels a connection with him, just as he feels one with her. This is not the first novel to give a painting a mind of its own (I, Mona Lisa by Natasha Solomons does the same and I’m sure there must be others) but I really liked the way Bruton handles that element of the story, giving it a dreamlike feel and merging the two narratives so that they don’t feel too separate or disconnected.

With it being a real painting rather than a fictional one, it’s easy to google it so you can refer to the picture itself as you read. The narrator’s observations, made during his repeated viewings, helped me to see things in the painting that I probably wouldn’t have noticed for myself. With each chapter, he finds new details to study and focus on – the map on the wall, the letter in the woman’s hand, the blue bed jacket she’s wearing and the question of whether or not she could be pregnant. At times, Bruton returns to a theme he also touched on in Blue Postcards: the idea that a painting offers something different to each individual who views it and that the viewers themselves can almost ‘become’ part of the painting:

What I like about the painting – one of the many things I like – is how cleverly the artist has included me in it and made me complicit in the looking. It is an intimate and private moment and Vermeer intrudes on it without at all breaking it, and we – Vermeer and me – stand silent, breath held, just looking at this young woman turned in on herself.

For a short book – a novella at 144 pages – there’s so much packed into it that I’ve probably only scratched the surface in this review. I would recommend Woman in Blue to anyone who loves art, but even if you don’t, there’s still a lot here to enjoy.

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

As this is an independent publisher, I am counting Woman in Blue towards this year’s #ReadIndies event hosted by Kaggsy’s Bookish Ramblings and Lizzy’s Literary Life. You can find out more about Fairlight Books by visiting their website here.

The Secrets of the Rose by Nicola Cornick – #ReadIndies

I like Nicola Cornick’s books because you always know what to expect from them, but at the same time each one is different and has something new to offer. With The Secrets of the Rose, her latest novel published this month, I got exactly what I knew I would get: a dual timeline narrative, strong female protagonists, a search for an historic relic that has found its way into the present, cameo appearances by characters from other Cornick novels, and hints of the supernatural. However, I also had the opportunity to learn about a woman I’ve never read about before – Dorothy Forster of Bamburgh Hall.

In the present day, we meet Hannah Armstrong, an author working on a new book about Grace Darling, the lighthouse keeper’s daughter who became a 19th century celebrity after helping her father to rescue the survivors of a shipwreck. In order to research the biography, Hannah has returned to Bamburgh, the village on the Northumberland coast where she grew up and which she can use as a base for visiting the Darlings’ lighthouse in the nearby Farne Islands. Unfortunately, Hannah is finding that she has very little interest in Grace and her life – the woman she really wants to write about is another local heroine, Dorothy Forster.

Dorothy’s story unfolds in 1715, the year of the Jacobite Rising when supporters of the exiled James Edward Stuart attempted to restore him to the throne. Dorothy, who is living at Bamburgh Hall with her ailing father, is alarmed when she learns that her two brothers, Thomas and Nicholas, have been persuaded by one of the Jacobite leaders, the Earl of Derwentwater to join the rebellion. As the nephews of Lord Crewe of Bamburgh Castle, not only will their involvement put their own lives at risk, it could also leave the whole family in danger. Then Dorothy discovers that the Forsters are the keepers of the Rose, a legendary talisman that both sides in the conflict believe could be the key to victory. Can Dorothy hide the Rose from their enemies and keep her brothers safe?

These two storylines start to come together when Hannah goes to stay at Bamburgh Hall, her stepmother Diana’s home, while researching her Grace Darling book. Here she finds a portrait of Dorothy Forster which appears to be full of Jacobite symbolism. As Hannah digs into Dorothy’s past, she learns about the Rose and its powers and begins to suspect that it may have survived into the 21st century. However, she’s not the only one who has come to that conclusion – it seems that someone else is also on the trail of the Rose and is prepared to go to any lengths to get their hands on it.

As is often the case with dual narrative books, I found that one storyline interested me more than the other and this time it was the Dorothy Forster one. There were a lot of things I liked about Hannah’s story as well – her relationship with her stepmother, a mystery surrounding her brother who seems to have fallen out with everyone in the village, a romance that begins to form with an old friend – but Dorothy’s was more exciting. Legend states that Dorothy rode to London on horseback to rescue her brother Thomas from Newgate Prison after the failed rebellion and Cornick does incorporate this episode into the novel, but also shows that there’s a lot more to Dorothy’s story than that. The Jacobite aspect of the novel plays out mainly in the background, far away from Bamburgh (although I did enjoy the brief appearances of the Earl of Derwentwater whom I first met in Anya Seton’s Devil Water) so the focus is more on Dorothy’s personal life and her relationships with family and friends.

I thought the novel was interesting enough without the magic talisman element and I’m not sure if it really added much to the plot. Still, Nicola Cornick’s books do usually have some supernatural touches and they’re not as strong here as in some of her others. I did love the setting – although I wouldn’t say I know Bamburgh well, I’ve been there a few times and enjoyed seeing it through the eyes of Hannah and Dorothy in two different centuries. And I was intrigued to find when I read the author’s note that Dorothy’s uncle, Guy Forster, and his wife also appear in Cornick’s previous book, The Other Gwyn Girl, which I haven’t read yet. The relationship between them is fictional, although they share the Forster name, but I do want to read that book anyway.

I really enjoyed The Secrets of the Rose, then, and would probably rank it in my top three Nicola Cornick novels so far, along with The Last Daughter and The Phantom Tree.

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

As Boldwood is an independent publisher, I am counting this book towards this year’s #ReadIndies event hosted by Kaggsy’s Bookish Ramblings and Lizzy’s Literary Life.

The Resurrectionist by A. Rae Dunlap

It’s 1828 and James Willoughby has just arrived in Edinburgh to begin his medical studies at the university. Having found himself completely unsuited to the career in the church that his parents had planned for him, James has decided that medicine is his true vocation. After speaking to some of his fellow students, he discovers that due to the large class sizes the university can only offer very limited opportunities for practical experience. In order to gain the surgical knowledge he desires, it will also be necessary to attend one of the city’s private anatomy schools where he’ll be able to dissect and study the human body for himself.

Although James comes from a wealthy family, they have fallen on hard times since his father’s death. There’s enough money to pay for his lodgings at the Hope and Anchor Inn, but not much else. If he wants to go to anatomy school, he’ll have to find a way to pay the fees himself. Signing up for Dr Malstrom’s prestigious school, James confides in the doctor’s apprentice, Aneurin MacKinnon, explaining his financial difficulties. Aneurin – or Nye, as he prefers to be called – tells him he may have a solution to the problem. And with that, James finds himself drawn into the secretive, macabre world of body snatching – taking corpses from graves under cover of darkness and selling them to anatomists for study and research purposes.

I loved this book! As a debut novel it’s very impressive and I’ll certainly be looking out for more by A. Rae Dunlap. From the very first page she captures the formal feel of the 19th century novel and manages to avoid using the sort of inappropriately modern language that could have so easily pulled me out of the historical setting. As with Ambrose Parry’s Raven and Fisher series, there are lots of insights into the medical world of 19th century Edinburgh, with the focus here being on the study of anatomy and surgery and how progress was hampered by the lack of human cadavers for students to work with. Edinburgh itself provides an atmospheric setting for the novel, especially as most of the action, for obvious reasons, takes place at night. There are lots of suitably Gothic descriptions of lonely cemeteries, dark alleys and disreputable inns, all forming the backdrop to the trade of body snatching.

The Resurrectionist is narrated by James Willoughby, whom I really liked and believed in as a character. He begins the novel as an innocent, well-meaning young man who has led a somewhat sheltered life and who gradually grows as a person as he has his eyes opened to things and experiences he had never imagined. Over the course of the novel, we see a friendship form between James and the more worldly Nye, which eventually develops into something more. I thought the story was already interesting enough without adding a romance, but it does seem to arise naturally from the characters’ interactions rather than being forced in for the sake of it. It also provides an extra sense of danger, as both men are under no illusions as to the importance of keeping their relationship secret and what could happen to them if they are found out.

Although James and Nye and their friends are fictional, several other characters in the book really existed, most notably the infamous Burke and Hare, probably the best known body snatchers – or ‘resurrectionists’ – in history. As competition amongst the city’s anatomists increases and tasked with providing a steady supply of corpses for their employer Dr Knox, Burke and Hare decide that in addition to grave robbing, there could be another way to meet the demand for bodies. I knew very little about Burke and Hare before reading this book, so I enjoyed seeing how things played out for them and how Dunlap seamlessly worked them into James and Nye’s fictional story while also staying true to the historical facts.

The end of the novel wraps things up enough to make this a satisfactory standalone, but also sets up a potential sequel. This one felt very much like a coming of age novel for James, so I would be interested to see what the future has in store for him. If Dunlap has decided to move on and write something different, though, I will be equally interested to read whatever it is!

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