Review: The Unburied by Charles Palliser

The title of this book may suggest a horror story complete with zombies and vampires, but The Unburied is actually a scholarly murder mystery which reminded me of The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco or An Instance of the Fingerpost by Iain Pears.  I wanted to read it because a few years ago I read another Charles Palliser book, The Quincunx, which I really enjoyed.  Like The Quincunx, this one is set (mostly) in Victorian England.  It begins with a mock ‘Editor’s Foreword’ in which we are told that we are about to read an account which will throw new light on the controversial Thurchester Mystery.  This account, known as The Courtine Account, forms the bulk of the book.

Dr Edward Courtine, a historian from Cambridge University, has been invited to spend the week before Christmas with Austin Fickling, an old friend from his student days who is now teaching at a school in the cathedral city of Thurchester.  He and Austin haven’t seen each other since they parted on bad terms twenty years ago, and Courtine is eager to renew their friendship.  He also has another reason for wanting to visit Thurchester – he has been studying King Alfred the Great and has learned that an ancient manuscript detailing the events of Alfred’s reign may be available in Thurchester Library.

On the night of Courtine’s arrival he hears the story of a murder that took place in the cathedral two centuries earlier.  Courtine is fascinated, but as he begins to investigate he becomes involved in another murder mystery – and discovers Austin’s true motive for inviting him to Thurchester.

As the main narrator of the book, I found Courtine very irritating, but at the same time I felt slightly sorry for him.  For such an obviously intelligent person he was completely lacking in perception, constantly saying the wrong things, missing important clues and failing to notice people behaving suspiciously.  Sometimes he would tell us that he was beginning to form a theory or that an idea had occurred to him, but he didn’t let us know what it was.  This was good in one way, as it encouraged me to work things out for myself, but it also annoyed me because I was already finding it difficult enough to keep all the threads of the story straight.

Although the town of Thurchester and its community are vividly depicted, I didn’t find any of the characters particularly memorable.  The fact that some of them had similar names (Slattery, Sheldrick, Sisterton for example) didn’t help.  There is actually a character list at the back of the book but I was trying not to look at it in case I came across any spoilers.  As for the plot, it’s so intricate you really need to read this book in as few sittings as possible so you don’t forget any important details.  There seemed to be a constant stream of unexplained deaths and forged documents, with at least three separate mysteries from different eras all running parallel to each other – and different characters giving different versions of what may or may not have happened.   I wished I had been taking notes from the beginning.

This is a very atmospheric book with lots of gothic elements, from the freezing fog that accompanies Courtine’s arrival in Thurchester to the obligatory ‘ghost’ supposedly haunting the cathedral.  It would have been a good book to read in front of the fire on a cold winter’s night.  In spite of the slow pace the book was relatively quick to read and although it was certainly confusing, I did enjoy it, especially when the various mysteries began to unravel towards the end.  Not as good as The Quincunx, though – if you’ve never read a Charles Palliser book before, try that one first.

Genre: Historical Fiction/Mystery/Publisher: Phoenix/Pages: 389/Year: 1999/Source: My own copy purchased used

Winners of Our Promised Land!

Throughout April Michael T. Darkow has been offering readers of this blog the chance to win one of 5 copies of his book Our Promised Land.

The contest ended yesterday (Thursday April 29th) and today I used the List Randomizer to find 5 random winners.  The winners are:

Rhonda, Suzie, The Book Whisperer, Barbara S and Rick!  I have contacted you by email to ask for your addresses so that the author can send you your books.  Congratulations to all of you!

Review: Wild Swans by Jung Chang

Wild Swans is the story of three generations of women in Jung Chang’s family.  The first is her grandmother Yu-fang, who grew up in pre-communist China, a time when women had their feet bound as children and could be given to warlords as concubines.  The second is Chang’s mother, De-hong, who became a senior official in the Communist party following their victory over the Kuomintang.  The third is Jung Chang herself and the longest and most compelling section of the book is devoted to her own experiences during Mao’s Cultural Revolution of the 1960s and 70s.

Before beginning this book I didn’t know very much at all about Chairman Mao, but I’m obviously not alone in that.  As Jung Chang says in her introduction to the 2003 edition, ‘the world knows astonishingly little about him’.  This book helped me understand why the Chinese people initally welcomed communism and how millions of children grew up viewing Mao as their hero and never dreaming of questioning his regime.   It also explained why many people eventually became disillusioned and why the system started to break down.

Reading Wild Swans made me realize how important books like this one are.  Wild Swans presents almost the entire 20th century history of China in a highly personal way that makes it so much more memorable than just reading the same information in a text book would have been.

One of the most horrible things in the book occurs within the first chapter when Chang describes her grandmother’s footbinding.  It’s so awful to think of a little girl being forced to undergo this torture just because tiny feet (or ‘three-inch golden lilies’) were thought to be the ideal.  Soon after her grandmother’s feet were bound the tradition began to disappear.  However, this is just one small part of the book and the first in a long series of shocking episodes the author relates to us.  For example, during the civil war between the Kuomintang and the Communists, inflation rose so quickly that currency became worthless and people began to take desperate measures to get food, with beggars trying to sell their children in exchange for a bag of rice.

Jung Chang’s parents both worked for the Communists during and after the civil war, rising to high positions within the party.  Chang’s father was completely devoted to the Communist Party, putting it before his wife’s welfare.  Every time she found herself in trouble with the party for some trivial reason, her husband would side against her.  However, this attitude extended to the rest of his family and friends too – he refused to do anything which could be construed as showing favouritism.

Some parts of the book made me feel so angry and frustrated, such as reading about the senseless waste of food when peasants were taken away from the fields to work on increasing steel output instead, as part of Mao’s ‘Great Leap Forward’.  There are some shocking accounts of starving people being driven to eat their own babies.  The famine shook a lot of people’s faith in the Party and afterwards even Jung’s father was less inclined to put the party’s needs before his family’s as he had done in the past – in fact during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960s, he found himself denounced and arrested, and eventually emerges as one of the most admirable people in the book, at least in my opinion.

“I thought of my father’s life, his wasted dedication and crushed dreams…There was no place for him in Mao’s China because he had tried to be an honest man.”

The descriptions of the Cultural Revolution are horrific; it went on for years and resulted in countless deaths.  One of the most frightening things about this period was that nobody was safe – people who had been high-ranking Communist officials before the revolution suddenly found themselves branded ‘capitalist-roaders’ or ‘counter-revolutionaries’ (sometimes by their own children) and some of them were driven to suicide.

Some of the parts I found most fascinating were Jung’s accounts of how the Chinese viewed the ‘capitalist countries’ in the west.

“As a child, my idea of the West was that it was a miasma of poverty and misery, like that of the homeless ‘Little Match Girl’ in the Hans Christian Andersen story.  When I was in the boarding nursery and did not want to finish my food, the teacher would say: ‘Think of all the starving children in the capitalist world!’

The book is complete with a family tree, chronology, photographs and map of China – all of which were very useful as I found myself constantly referring to them and without them I would have had a lot more difficulty keeping track of what was going on.

As you can probably imagine, it was a very depressing book, as Jung and her family experienced very few moments of true happiness.  She only really sounds enthusiastic when she’s describing the natural beauty of some of the places she visited – and the pleasure she got from reading books and composing poetry, both of which were condemned during the Cultural Revolution.  However, it was also the most riveting non-fiction book I’ve ever read – I kept thinking “I’ll just read a few more pages” then an hour later I was still sitting there unable to put the book down.

I don’t think I need to explain why this book counts towards the Women Unbound challenge.  All three of the women featured in Wild Swans – Jung Chang herself, her mother and her grandmother – were forced to endure hardships and ordeals that are unimaginable to most of us, but remained strong and courageous throughout it all.  However, Wild Swans is not just the story of three women – it’s much broader in scope than that and is the story of an entire nation.  So much is packed into the 650 pages of this book that I’ve barely scratched the surface in this review and if you haven’t yet read the book I hope you’ll read it for yourself – no review can really do it justice.

Highly Recommended

Genre: Non-Fiction/Memoir/Publisher: Harper Perennial/Pages: 650/Year: 2004 (originally published 1991)/Source: My own copy bought new

Not Quite The Sunday Salon

After I started typing this week’s Sunday Salon post it occurred to me that changing my blog address means I’m no longer officially a member of the Sunday Salon and as they’re not accepting new members at the moment I’m not able to rejoin.  However, I think I’ll still continue to do Sunday Salon posts on an informal basis – it just means they won’t show up on the official feed.

I’ve been here at WordPress for a week now and so far I’m very happy with it. Apart from a few initial problems, the move from Blogger has gone quite smoothly but if you notice anything not working properly please let me know!  One thing I love is being able to reply to comments individually as it’s still not possible to do that on Blogger (unless you install a separate commenting program such as Intense Debate).

This week I’ve been reading Wild Swans by Jung Chang. I’m slightly ashamed that it’s taken me so long to get round to reading it because I’ve been hearing about it for a long time and it has been on my Amazon wishlist literally for years. Well, better late than never. I won’t say too much about it here, except that I can’t remember ever being so gripped by a non-fiction book before.  I’m almost finished so should be posting my review soon.

I also signed up for Nymeth’s 1930s mini-challenge this week. The idea is to read books ‘from, set in, or about the 1930s’. I didn’t really want to be signing up for any more challenges because I think I’m doing enough already, but this one appealed to me as the first half of the 20th century appears to be a time period that I neglect in my reading. I usually seem to read either more recent books or pre-20th century books. At the moment I don’t know exactly what I would like to read, but as the challenge runs until July 18th I’m sure I’ll have time to read at least one 1930s book!

On Monday I found an interesting article in The Times about the portrayal of women with mental illnesses in 19th century literature – the article discusses Bertha Rochester, Anne Catherick and Emma Bovary as examples.

Finally, a reminder that my Michael T. Darkow giveaway in which you can win a copy of Our Promised Land is still open. You have until Thursday 29th April to enter – see the review and giveaway post for full details.  Winners will be announced on Friday.  Good luck!

Short Story Mini-Review: An Imaginative Woman by Thomas Hardy

An Imaginative Woman by Thomas Hardy (1894)

This is the first of Thomas Hardy’s short stories that I’ve read but I would now like to read more. As you might expect from Hardy, An Imaginative Woman is well-written and descriptive but with a slightly dark and melancholy feel.

Ella Marchmill, the ‘imaginative woman’ of the title is an aspiring poet, writing under the male pseudonym of John Ivy because ‘nobody might believe in her inspiration’ if they knew she was a woman. Her husband, a gunmaker, is her exact opposite in temperament and interests. When the couple and their three children go on holiday to Solentsea in Upper Wessex, Ella becomes obsessed with the previous occupier of their lodgings – a fellow poet by the name of Robert Trewe. During their stay in Solentsea she convinces herself she has fallen in love with a man she has never even met and desperately tries to arrange a meeting with Trewe. As I don’t want to spoil the story for you I won’t reveal any more of the plot and will leave it to you to find out whether or not Ella succeeds in meeting Robert Trewe.

No, he was not a stranger! She knew his thoughts and feelings as well as she knew her own; they were, in fact, the self-same thoughts and feelings as hers, which her husband distinctly lacked; perhaps luckily for himself, considering that he had to provide for family expenses.

“He’s nearer my real self, he’s more intimate with the real me than Will is, after all, even though I’ve never seen him,” she said.

The theme of this story was actually very similar to the Mary Elizabeth Braddon novel The Doctor’s Wife which I reviewed a few weeks ago, in which a woman becomes bored with her marriage and develops an obsession with another life that exists only in her fantasies. The outcome of the two stories, however, is very different. There’s a clever plot twist at the end of An Imaginative Woman but I found the final few paragraphs a bit too harsh and cruel.

If you’d like to read this story yourself, you can find it online here.

The illustration by Arthur J. Goodman shown at the top of this post originally appeared in The Pall Mall Magazine in April 1894 and depicts Robert Trewe and Ella Marchmill – Picture courtesy of Philip V. Allingham

Have you read any of Thomas Hardy’s short stories? Which one do you think I should read next?

Childhood Memories: Ursula Moray Williams

I don’t usually review children’s books on my blog, but in my new series of Childhood Memories posts I’ll be spotlighting some of my favourite authors from my childhood, many of whom seem to have been largely forgotten today.  In this first post I’m remembering Ursula Moray Williams.

Ursula Moray Williams was born in Hampshire, England on April 19, 1911. Throughout her career she wrote nearly 70 children’s books including Adventures of the Little Wooden Horse, Gobbolino the Witch’s Cat and The Good Little Christmas Tree. She died on October 17, 2006, having had one of the longest publishing careers of any children’s author.

Author Trivia:

  • Ursula had an identical twin sister called Barbara.
  • Her uncle, Sir Stanley Unwin, was the founder of the George Allen and Unwin publishing house, who published J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit in 1937.
  • She married Peter John in 1935 – he was the great-grandson of the poet Robert Southey.

Ursula Moray Williams obituary from The Independent

Wikipedia entry with bibliography

Gobbolino the Witch’s Cat was one of my favourite books as a child. I had a copy at home, but I remember reading it at school as well (where we also learned a song to go with the book – no, I’m not going to sing it for you! I was able to find the lyrics, though.)

Gobbolino is a witch’s kitten, but unlike his sister Sootica who enjoys learning magic spells and flying a broomstick, he dreams of becoming an ordinary kitchen cat. When the witch notices that Gobbolino has blue eyes and one white paw (apparently a witch’s cat should be black with green eyes), she abandons him and he sets off alone in search of a warm fire and a family who will love him.  In quick succession, Gobbolino attempts to become a farmhouse cat, an orphanage cat, a show cat, a ship’s cat, a princess’s cat and a woodcutter’s cat – but every time he thinks he’s found the perfect home, his new owners discover that he’s really a witch’s cat and ask him to leave.

“Oh, why was I born a witch’s cat?  Oh, why?” thought Gobbolino when at last they were out of sight. “I could wish for nothing better than a home with such kind and pleasant people as these, but no!  Everyone turns against me, and oh my goodness, what is to become of me now?”

Gobbolino is such a lovable, kindhearted character it would be almost impossible not to like him and to want him to find the happy home he’s been wishing for!

Adventures of the Little Wooden Horse was published in 1938, a few years before Gobbolino, and was a very similar story.  The little wooden horse is a toy who doesn’t want to be sold, preferring to remain with his creator, Uncle Peder the toymaker.  When Uncle Peder becomes ill, the little wooden horse is forced to go out into the world and attempt to make his fortune – while dreaming of the day when he and the toymaker will be reunited.  

Although I loved these books I used to think they were very sad, and would cry every time Gobbolino or the Little Wooden Horse had to leave yet another potential home – though I didn’t find them quite as sad when I re-read them this week in preparation for writing this post!  I think these books would be perfect bedtime stories because of the way they are structured with each chapter being a complete little story in itself.

Have you read any of Ursula Moray Williams’ books – or have you read them to your children?

Review: The Warden by Anthony Trollope

Being a lover of Victorian fiction, I have wanted to read something by Anthony Trollope for a long time but didn’t know which of his books to begin with. I’ve heard a lot about The Way We Live Now and Can You Forgive Her? but I decided to go with The Warden because it’s relatively short and I thought that if I wasn’t enjoying it I’d be more likely to finish a book with 200 pages than one with 800. Luckily, this wasn’t a problem – I enjoyed the book and wouldn’t have minded if it had been longer.

In the year 1434 John Hiram established a hospital (or almshouse) in the town of Barchester where for centuries to come, twelve elderly, infirm men could live under the care of a warden. At the time when the story takes place, Septimus Harding is the current warden and whilst the amount of money given to the old men has barely changed at all over time, the warden’s income has increased to eight hundred pounds a year. When reformer John Bold decides to investigate, Harding finds himself facing a moral dilemma.

The book really made me stop and think, because none of the characters seemed to be either completely in the wrong or completely in the right.  Although it was clearly unfair that Mr. Harding was receiving so much money, I sympathised with him because as soon as the unfairness of his position was brought to his attention he became determined to do the right thing.  As for the other main characters – John Bold and Harding’s son-in-law Archdeacon Grantly – although they are on opposite sides of the debate and have very different opinions regarding the warden’s situation, Trollope presents them both as well-intentioned people with normal human flaws.  The female characters don’t play a very big role in this book, but I loved the relationship between Mr. Harding and his daughter Eleanor.

I really liked Trollope’s writing style which is elegant, insightful and witty in a gentle way.  There are a few chapters where he departs from the main storyline to spend several pages talking about politics or the media but this is a common trait of Victorian writers.  Although it was slow moving in places, Trollope managed to keep me interested from beginning to end.  I’m sure some of his other books will be better, but this one was good enough to make me want to read more of his work.

Recommended

Publisher: Penguin Classics/Year: 1984 (first published 1855)/Pages: 240/Source: My own copy bought used