Air by John Boyne – #NovNov25

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monstrous Tales: Haunting Encounters with Britain’s Mythical Beasts

This is a great new collection of short stories inspired by British folklore. I was drawn to it because it included several authors whose work I’ve previously enjoyed, but I was pleased to find that the stories by authors who were new to me were just as strong. The book has also given me the opportunity to learn about lots of creatures from British myth that I’d never come across before; only one or two of them were familiar to me.

I’ll start with the three stories by authors I hadn’t tried before. I particularly enjoyed Jenn Ashworth’s Old Trash, set in the Pendle area of Lancashire where a mother has taken her troubled teenage daughter camping for the weekend, hoping to keep her away from the bad influence of an older boyfriend. Ashworth does a wonderful job of creating a creepy atmosphere as darkness falls over the hills and Rachael and Mae listen to tales of the gytrash, a huge black dog thought to be an omen of death. Abir Mukherjee’s The Doctor’s Wife is another highlight, following a doctor and his wife who move to a small village in the Highlands of Scotland. Once there, the doctor becomes obsessed with the fate of his predecessor and a mysterious woman dressed in red. This story combines a British setting with elements of Hindu mythology, which is fascinating and adds some diversity to the book.

Sunyi Dean’s Eynhallow Free didn’t work for me quite as well as the others, which I think is due to the story being written in second person (addressing the reader directly as ‘you’, putting us in the position of the protagonist, a style I never really get on with). I did love the Orkney setting, though; it’s a very eerie story, incorporating figures from Orkney folklore such as the Goodman of Thorodale and the Finfolk. There’s one more story also set in Scotland: These Things Happen by Dan Jones. I’ve read some of Jones’ history books, but this is my first experience of his fiction. I disliked the main character which put me off the story a little bit, but I was fascinated by the descriptions of the Cat Sith, the large black cat of Scottish mythology that walks around on its hind legs.

Welsh folklore is represented by the Fad Felen, or yellow plague, which appears in Rosie Andrews’ story, The Yellow Death. The story is set at the end of the First World War and the Fad Felen can be seen as a metaphor for the yellow of mustard gas. This is one of only two stories in the book with historical settings. The other is Rebecca Netley’s Mr Mischief, in which ten-year-old Bessie moves to a big house on the Yorkshire moors with her Uncle Kit who has a job as gamekeeper. Here she learns about a mysterious being known only as Mr Mischief and the lengths the superstitious locals go to in order to keep him happy.

I think my favourite story in the book was probably Boneless by Janice Hallett, about a writer investigating reports of a giant slug in Derbyshire. Written in Hallett’s usual style incorporating emails, articles, texts etc, it explores issues such as climate and habitat change and how animals are forced to adapt and evolve. The ending is great – I hadn’t expected the story to go in that direction at all. I also liked The Beast of Bodmin by Jane Johnson, which is set, like a lot of Johnson’s work, in Cornwall. Gina moves into a cottage on the edge of Bodmin Moor, hoping to make a new start in life, and almost immediately her black cat, Roxy, goes missing.

The collection is completed by Stuart Turton’s Deaths in the Family. It follows the story of Ben and his family, who gather together for Christmas every year, barricading themselves indoors while an army of grotesque and murderous Redcaps amasses outside. I wasn’t sure what to make of this story as it was so strange and felt different in tone from the others in the book, but it was certainly entertaining!

Nine stories in this collection, then, and although I inevitably enjoyed some more than others, there wasn’t a single bad one here. I’m looking forward to exploring more of Ashworth, Mukherjee and Dean’s work now, so if you can recommend anything please let me know.

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

The Ice Palace by Tarjei Vesaas – #NovNov25

Translated by Elizabeth Rokkan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Top Ten Tuesday: Stepping out of my comfort zone

This week’s topic for Top Ten Tuesday (hosted by That Artsy Reader Girl) is “Books I Enjoyed that Were Outside My Comfort Zone”.

When I first saw this topic I thought I would struggle to put a list together as I tend to stick to the sort of books I know I’ll enjoy. However, after thinking about it I was able to come up with ten books I enjoyed that are definitely out of my comfort zone – for ten different reasons! Here they are:

1. Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi – A graphic novel

2. The Dog Stars by Peter Heller – Post-apocalyptic fiction

3. The Sisters Brothers by Patrick DeWitt – A Western

4. The Silver Pigs by Lindsey Davis – Audiobook

5. The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde – A play

6. The Twyford Code by Janice Hallett – Written in an unusual style

7. Amours de Voyage by Arthur Hugh Clough – A narrative poem

8. Live Alone and Like It by Marjorie Hillis – Self-help nonfiction

9. The Epic of Gilgamesh – An ancient epic

10. Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brian – Nautical fiction

~

Have you read any of these? Which books have you read that are out of your comfort zone – and did you enjoy them?

Nonfiction November: Week 3 – Book Pairings

I’m taking part in Nonfiction November this month and this week’s topic is one I always enjoy: book pairings! Our host for Week 3 is Liz of Adventures in Reading, Running and Working from Home and here is the prompt:

This week, pair up a nonfiction book with a fiction title. Maybe it’s a historical novel and the real history in a nonfiction version, or a memoir and a novel, or a fiction book you’ve read and you would like recommendations for background reading. Or maybe it’s just two books you feel have a link, whatever they might be. You can be as creative as you like!

For my nonfiction book, I’ve chosen Come, Tell Me How You Live by Agatha Christie, which I read earlier this year. It’s her memoir describing her trips to Syria in the 1930s accompanying her archaeologist husband, Max Mallowan, on digs. I can think of three fiction books that would make good pairs, so I have listed all three below.

Murder in Mesopotamia by Agatha Christie is the most obvious choice. It’s a Poirot mystery published in 1936 and is set on the site of an archaeological dig near Hassanieh, Iraq. Apparently Christie drew on her own experiences of visiting an excavation at Ur and she based some of the characters on people she and Max knew.

Crocodile on the Sandbank by Elizabeth Peters is the first in the Amelia Peabody mystery series and also features a narrator who participates in archaeological digs, this time in 19th century Egypt. I’ve enjoyed the first three books in the series and am looking forward to the next one.

The Gabriel Hounds by Mary Stewart isn’t about archaeology, but it is set in Syria – and also in Lebanon, where our narrator, Christy, goes to visit her eccentric Great-Aunt Harriet, a character based on the real-life adventurer and explorer Lady Hester Stanhope. I love Mary Stewart’s books and this is a very entertaining one!

~

Have you read any of these? Can you think of other novels about archaeology or set in Syria?

Buckeye by Patrick Ryan

In May 1945, Margaret Salt walks into a hardware store in the small town of Bonhomie, Ohio and asks if they have a radio. Cal Jenkins is working there that day and he accompanies Margaret into the office where they listen to President Truman informing the nation that Germany has surrendered to the Allies. Neither of them knows it, but this brief interaction will go on to have consequences that change both of their lives forever.

In Buckeye, Patrick Ryan explores the stories of Cal and his wife, Becky, and Margaret and her husband, Felix – two couples whose paths cross many times over a period of four decades. We learn more about Cal’s background and the disability that has kept him out of the war and we get to know Becky, who has a gift for communicating with the dead. We also hear about Margaret’s childhood, abandoned as a baby and raised in an orphanage, and we follow Felix as he suffers some traumatic experiences during the war. Later, the focus widens to include their children as we move forward into the 1960s and 70s and another war – Vietnam.

Almost as soon as I started to read I was reminded of Ann Patchett and I’m not suprised to see that other reviewers have made the same comparison. I think if you enjoyed Tom Lake or The Dutch House, there’s a good chance that you’ll enjoy this book as well – but even if you didn’t, give this one a try anyway as despite the similar feel, Patrick Ryan has his own style and a real talent for creating strong, engaging characters. I was particularly fond of Cal’s father, Everett; when we first meet him at the start of the book, he’s a lonely, bitter alcoholic, writing angry letters to the President and still grieving for his wife and daughter who died years earlier, but a crisis sets his life on a different course and Becky takes him under her wing.

I wasn’t sure at first how I would feel about Becky’s work as a spiritualist – I thought a paranormal element wouldn’t fit the tone of the book – but it actually works very well. It provides a source of conflict with Cal, who is not a believer, but Becky isn’t a fraud in any way: she truly wants to give peace and comfort to those who need it and she does seem to have a genuine ability to contact the dead. Margaret Salt is a complex character and her actions are not always very admirable, but learning more about her early life helped me to understand her. I liked Felix, though, and found several parts of his story very moving.

Buckeye is a long book, but family sagas usually are, and although the pace moves slowly at times it’s hard to know what could have been left out. As well as needing time to fully develop the characters, there are also several decades of American history to get through, with major events sometimes happening in the background but in other cases directly impacting the lives of the Jenkins and Salt families. I certainly don’t regret the length of time it took to read it – it’s definitely going to be one of my books of the year.

Thanks to Bloomsbury Publishing Plc (UK & ANZ) for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Odd Flamingo by Nina Bawden

Nina Bawden is someone I’ve always thought of as a children’s author; I know I’ve read a few of her books, athough Carrie’s War and The Finding are the only ones I can remember anything about. I’ve never tried any of her adult novels, but was drawn to this one by the unusual title. It was originally published in 1954 and has been reissued by British Library as part of their Crime Classics series earlier this year. Bawden isn’t really an author I would have expected them to publish – I had no idea she wrote crime.

The Odd Flamingo is the name of a seedy London nightclub frequented by many of the characters in the novel. One of these is Rose Blacker, a young woman of eighteen who appears to have fallen in with the wrong friends. When Rose tells Celia Stone that she is pregnant – and that the father is Celia’s husband, Humphrey – Celia calls on her lawyer friend, Will Hunt, for help. She doesn’t believe Rose’s claims, but she’s concerned about Humphrey’s reputation and how a scandal could affect his job as a school headmaster.

Will has known Humphrey for years and has always liked and admired him, but when he meets Rose for himself and she produces letters written by Humphrey, his confidence in his friend is shaken. Rose seems so sweet and innocent; surely she must be telling the truth? When a woman’s body is found floating in the canal with Rose’s bag nearby, Humphrey is the obvious suspect. Will agrees to do what he can to clear his name but is worried about what he might discover. As he begins to investigate, he finds that everything keeps leading back to the dark, sordid world of The Odd Flamingo and the miserable lives of the people who go there.

As you can probably tell, this is not exactly the most cheerful and uplifting of books! It’s full of people who are lonely, desperate and troubled or have become mixed up with drugs, theft or blackmail. I found it quite depressing, but also realistic – places like The Odd Flamingo have always existed and probably always will. I can’t really say that I liked any of the characters, but again, most of them feel believable and real. Only Piers, Humphrey’s grotesque, slimy half-brother, veers close to being a stereotype.

The book is narrated by Will and I found him an interesting character; he’s very idealistic and almost hero worships Humphrey, so feels disappointed and let down by Rose’s claims – but then he does the same thing with Rose herself, putting her on a pedestal because she’s young and beautiful. Whether Rose really is as innocent as she seems is a question not answered until the end of the book, but it’s obvious that Will is going to be hurt again if it turns out that she’s not.

The Odd Flamingo, although there are certainly some mysteries to be solved, is not really a conventional mystery novel and not a typical British Library Crime Classic. If your tastes tend towards the darker, grittier end of crime fiction, though, or you’re interested in trying one of Nina Bawden’s adult books, I can happily recommend this one.