Wednesday, 22 April 2026

The Vanishing Cherry Blossom Bookshop, Takuya Asakura (translated by Yuka Maeno)

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The Cherry Blossom Bookshop only appears during the fleeting cherry blossom season, and to access it you have to be reading the exact same passage in the same book as the owner, Sakura, at the exact same time. You might think this would make it near impossible for anyone to ever get through, but throughout the book we meet four characters whose time at the shop gives them a chance to gain new insight and move on from past hurt. In the final visitor’s story we also learn a bit more about the origin of the shop and its inhabitants. 

Sakura and her calico cat Kobako tend the shop and offer a safe space for their visitors. Many of the stories we see unfold involve grief and regrets. In the first, we meet a woman whose mother has recently died, whose career seems to be on the brink of crumbling, and whose brother hasn’t been around to share the burden. The shop allows her a chance to re-evaluate the actions of her mother and reflect on what it meant for her. Next, we meet Shingo, an older man who is suffering from dementia. He misses his departed wife terribly - can the shop allow him a chance to see her once more, and to reconnect with the family he has? Twins Shiho and Kaho find themselves needing to revisit a significant moment from their young adult lives, a moment which has haunted them both and which they wish they could have spoken about freely. Finally, we meet Kozue, whose mother has disappeared and whose father has become stuck, not wanting to admit that she is gone. 

This book gives the impression of being a cosy read, but do not be fooled into thinking it will be all feel-good. As mentioned above, each character is going through a difficult time in one way or another, and the sadness does come out. Ultimately, they find comfort or release in the bookshop so it does not feel like a melancholy book, but it is certainly not cheerful escapism. The final sections become quite philosophical and meta which I quite enjoyed. I also enjoyed the translator’s note at the end which explained a bit about the Japanese language and its intricacies that the average English-language reader wouldn’t know, allowing us to better understand some of the specifics of the book.

This was my first foray into the cosy Japanese magical realism novels that have been proliferating in bookshops over recent years. It was a thoughtful read and quite enjoyable, but the books in it felt incidental more than integral - they are vehicles for the story. For some of the characters they feel more embedded in their stories, but this wasn’t a love letter to books in the way some bookshop based books are. Enjoyable, interesting, and with a beautiful cover, this makes a nice read for Spring.

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Wednesday, 15 April 2026

How To Kill A Witch, Claire Mitchell and Zoe Venditozzi

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This post is part of a blog tour. Thank you to Random Things Tours and Monoray for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.


Mitchell, a human rights lawyer and Venditozza, writer, came together to form the Witches of Scotland campaign in 2020, seeking justice for the nearly 4000 individuals who were accused of witchcraft in Scotland between 1563 and 1736. This book is the next step in the project, bringing together their research into an accessible book which takes you step by step through the process of having a person accused and condemned as a witch. It delves into particular instances as well as discussing the broader activities of the likes of witch prickers. Most of the cases are Scotland based but they do commit a chapter to the infamous Salem witch trials, and dispel a few misconceptions along the way. The final section of the book looks at accusations of witchcraft that are still occurring around the world now, and the ways in which women continue to be the victim of misogyny - the label might have changed (in some cases) but the prejudices haven’t changed that much.


The subject of the book is dark but the writing is conversational and easy to read. They include many asides in footnotes, which do sometimes distract from the main text (there’s rarely a page without at least one footnote) but they are often informative or amusing. We learn about the horrendous treatment of those accused of witchcraft. They were tortured, forcibly kept awake for days at a time, and sometimes had their loved ones tortured in front of them to try and gain a confession. One thing that became crystal clear while reading the book is how utterly pointless forcing confessions from people with torture is. The confession is meaningless, and their contemporaries seem to have been aware of this as it was often claimed confessions were made without any coercion. Often it seems confessions were redacted as they were going to their death. There is also suspicion that some recorded confessions were entirely made up by the authorities in order to justify their horrific actions. The records of Scottish witch trials are fairly sparse, sometimes the names of the accused are not even recorded, merely that a group of witches were executed. This was not the case in the Salem witch trials in America, meaning that more research has been possible into the victims, and that it has been easier to identify those who need pardoning posthumously.


Mitchell and Venditozzi make it clear throughout that although there were a small number of men accused of witchcraft, it is largely a feminist issue. The odds were stacked against women - it was believed that God would intervene against injustice therefore if He allowed a witch to be executed surely this was a sign of guilt. There was also a belief that if a witch had a witch's mark that was undiscovered she would never confess. Belief systems made it impossible for the accused to prove their innocence, being accused in itself was practically a death sentence. Contradictions make themselves clear in approaches to investigation and proving wrongdoing, but also in the mindset which believes women are weaker creatures and therefore more likely to be tempted by the Devil while also being responsible for luring men into wrongful behaviour. Ideas that will be familiar to many a twenty-first century reader.


The book details the awful experiences of those who were accused. Being examined by witch prickers which involved being stripped and shaved and having needles or knives stuck into various parts of the body until they found any mark that could be seen as a sign of the Devil or which didn’t bleed. There was undoubtedly a sexual nature to this examination, carried out by men on women with nobody on their side. The grisly deaths that met many of the victims of this time are also described, and although they do not shy away from the horrors nor do they dwell unnecessarily on details. We are informed but it never feels gratuitous. It is clear that this period in history was an awful time of persecution. They lay out the factors that often lead to such actions, including difficult global times, insecurity, and the spread of harmful ideas. Parallels are made with the modern world. 


A fascinating, well researched book that reveals the true horror behind the witch trials in Scotland, a period of history which isn’t widely taught. They give voice to the victims by naming them and highlighting their innocence. There are also short fictional sections throughout which help put you in the head of the participants, bringing to life the world they were living in. 



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Saturday, 4 April 2026

The Brontës In Brussels, Helen MacEwan

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Many Brontë fans will know of Charlotte’s unrequited love for her teacher in Brussels, M. Heger, and the impact it had on her writing. MacEwan’s book delves deeper into her and Emily’s time in Belgium and the remnants of the city they knew that are still visible today. Throughout, both the modern city and the nineteenth century one are brought to life. Accompanied by modern photographs and historic illustrations, whether or not you have been to the Belgian capital, you feel transported through the pages of this book. 


In 1842 the two sisters embarked on a trip to Brussels hoping to improve their French and German and learn skills that would help them run their own school. We see them struggle to assimilate and finding socialising difficult even with generous and willing hosts. They are judgmental of many of the people they meet and largely keep to themselves. Emily is unhappy and does not return after a visit back to Haworth. Charlotte does return, ignoring a feeling that it is a bad idea. She finds it hard to be separated from Heger but he becomes increasingly distant and she falls into a depression. As difficult as the sisters come across at times you can’t help but feel for Charlotte in her first taste of romantic love and the agony of not hearing from someone who means so much to you. The focus of the book is really Charlotte, whose experience in Brussels had a much greater impact on her life than Emily. 


Emily and Charlotte spent only a fairly short amount of time abroad and there is not much left of the city they knew, which can make it feel as though there’s not much to say in this book. It is padded out with summaries of Villette and The Professor. There are extracts included throughout which relate to the particular time or place MacEwan is discussing at the time. Perhaps more interesting to readers are translations of some of their devoirs, less readily available. We learn also of how the record of their time in Belgium has spread. Heger is said to have handed out some of their work to pilgrims to the pensionnat wanting a glimpse of Lucy Snowe’s school.


This is an interesting book, with a detailed walking guide if you want to go and explore the city yourself. I read it just before a visit and it really gave me a sense of the place. I didn’t go on a Brontë pilgrimage, but did stop off at the cathedral, which felt more meaningful having read the book. I’ve read all the published Brontë novels but not for a while so the excerpts and details of how each book is thought to have been inspired by their experiences and particular places were useful. The story doesn’t stop when Charlotte leaves, taking us through to her premature death. A nice addition to the bookshelves of Brontë fans who want to deep dive on this particular period in their history, or who want to explore the city through the lens of their experiences. 


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Friday, 13 March 2026

Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel

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Mantel’s epic leads us through a turbulent period in British history, taking Thomas Cromwell as the central figure. We begin by learning about his difficult childhood before he heads to the continent and comes back well respected. There will be times when other characters try to shame him for his humble origins but he is confident in his abilities and the good standing that his work and efficiency places him in. He’s not wrong - he moves in the very highest of circles, easing the way for Henry VIII to divorce Catherine of Aragon and marry Anne Boleyn. This is undoubtedly a complex time - there’s a five page character list at the beginning of the book, which I completely forgot about after the first hundred or so pages so was relying entirely on the text of the novel to keep myself oriented. Thankfully, I wasn’t coming to the period fresh, if you’re new to the story you’ll probably find yourself flicking back and forth a lot.


Cromwell doesn’t have the best reputation in history but Mantel attempts to humanise him here. His difficult family life as a child and the death of his wife and daughters early in the novel allow us a glimpse of a softer side. Here we see Cromwell grieving, and are reminded just how much the threat of death weighed on everyone at the time. If you were lucky enough to survive or avoid contagious diseases, the constant changing of religious preferences of the monarchy meant that you were at risk of execution, and for women of course, death through childbirth. We see throughout that those unwilling to shift their beliefs in line with the current preference from above are punished. Some of the most harrowing and evocative passages are the descriptions of executions. 


We see the fallout of the King’s desire to divorce and remarry and the struggle of those in positions of power to shift their mindset to protect their lives. We hear much about Anne and Henry’s relationship and the rumours around the fading love and lust between them when her first child is not a boy. Knowing how their story ends, you feel for Anne. We see how love and politics intertwine and the negotiations that created this infamous story. We witness also how family are discarded when not seen as useful, and the jealousy of the new queen of anyone connected to her predecessor. It’s a difficult world for their unfortunate offspring to grow up in.


An aspect that I also found interesting was the brief but moving examinations of how some of the characters responded to their impending deaths. We see one choose to accept his fate when offered the opportunity to escape, others going to their end relatively oblivious. What is clear throughout is that your fortunes can change on a whim, and those who feel comfortable in their positions can very easily fall from grace. 


Despite the often serious nature of the content of the book it is littered with little humorous moments, as well as very human ones. Cromwell’s reaction to Holbein’s portrait of him, in which he is described as looking like a murderer, sets him on a short self-reflection, in which he realises he is more vain than previously thought. An interesting read, it’s quite dense and yet reads smoothly. Tackling such famous figures in fiction is no mean feat, and although not everyone will agree with Mantel’s interpretation of some of the characters, it is clearly well researched yet avoids feeling heavy.


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Friday, 27 February 2026

The Girl Who Reads on the Métro, Christine Féret-Fleury (translated by Ros Schwartz)

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Juliette spend hours every week travelling on line 6 of the metro, and has come to know her fellow passengers by sight. She knows which of them love to read romances, which just stare out of the window, and has come to care for them. She always has a book with her but finds herself more often than not people watching instead. One day, she decides to get off the metro early and go for a walk. She happens upon a treasure trove of books, watched over by Soliman and his daughter Zaide. Soliman spreads his books throughout the city through a network of passeurs who watch people, picking out the perfect book for them. Soliman himself rarely leaves his book den, preferring instead to travel through reading. Juliette soon finds herself with a heavy bag of books she’s meant to find the perfect person for with no idea how to go about the task. An opportunity soon presents itself as she assists her colleague Chloe with selling a difficult flat with the help of du Maurier’s Rebecca. This reinvigorates her belief in every reader having the perfect book for the moment it finds them in. This gentle novel follows her as she explores her new role and considers where the right balance is between getting lost in the world of books and engaging with the world around her.


The most engaging character in the novel is probably Zaide. She is confident and intriguing, and the first person Juliette meets when she goes for her walk. She appears independent, roaming the streets on her own, a book propped in the front door of their home to keep it open for her. As she and Juliette come to know each other more she proves herself to be insightful and encourages Juliette out beyond her comfort zone. Her complicated family life does not seem to have negatively impacted her too badly, but she has gained a maturity through it while retaining a child’s eye view of the world which allows her to see things more clearly than many adults. 


Juliette herself is quite a solitary character, living her little life quite contentedly. She doesn’t long for any great adventure or to move outside of her normal routine too much. Meeting Soliman allows her the opportunity to try a different way of living and it suits her. The Paris setting is also fairly incidental - there were times when I wondered if I’d simply assumed it was set in Paris. The main heart of the novel is the characters’ love of books. It reminded me of The Little Paris Bookshop but with less of a plot. This is a gentle read which doesn’t invite too much questioning of the practicalities of the lifestyle choices of the characters. Beautifully written, this meandering novel is a lovely read if you want to escape from the world for a while. 

Monday, 9 February 2026

Catherine: A Retelling of Wuthering Heights, Essie Fox

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This post is part of a blog tour. Thank you to Random Things Tours and Orenda Books for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.


Fox’s retelling of Wuthering Heights places Catherine front and centre. The book opens with one of the most evocative scenes from the original - Heathcliif having her coffin dug up so that they can be placed together when his time comes. In disturbing her corpse he sets her ghost free and she is then taken through not just her own story but also that of her daughter into young adulthood. Fox’s writing fits nicely with the tone of the original, meaning that when passages are lifted directly from Brontë’s novel they fit quite naturally within the narrative. The story of Heathcliff and Cathy’s obsessive, unhealthy love for each other and the actions that lead to the destruction and misery of not just their own lives but all those around them is a powerful, frustrating, and heartbreaking one. 


A sense of place is so integral to Wuthering Heights; the contrast between the darkness of the Heights and the lightness of Thrushcross Grange. We see the Heights go from a relatively happy family home to one filled with grief and violence, later becoming a prison. The moors are also central, the place where Cathy and Heathcliff feel completely themselves, free from societal expectation or the judgment of Joseph. It is where they are able to come together completely. It is also a dangerous place - even those familiar with the landscape can get into trouble in inclement weather, and for those less hardy there is danger and foreboding in its wildness. Inhabitants of Thrushcross Grange are often banned from venturing beyond their own landscaped grounds. We learn a lot about the characters by where they feel most at home. Fox manages to capture the essence of this throughout.


The main purpose of this novel seems to be to make Catherine a bit more sympathetic, to explain the reasoning behind her actions and the guilt she feels when things go wrong. There are still many unlikeable characters of course, but, as with the original, you feel for them, understanding where things have gone wrong for them, and the ways in which the environments they grew up in have shaped them. Of course, there is a point where Heathcliff tips over into being unrelatable and although you do understand how he has suffered there is a limit to the sympathy you can feel as he seeks to destroy everything Edgar has ever loved. It felt slightly less extreme in this novel, although the same actions took place. The ghost of Catherine is horrified by what he has become, and the suffering he is inflicting on her daughter, but ultimately she continues to love him and there is a feeling of redemption. 


My main issue with this novel was that I didn’t feel it really added much to the story. For the most part you are just reading Wuthering Heights told in different words. Fox adds a few scenes here and there, filling in some of Heathcliff’s backstory, and taking away some of the ambiguity about his relationship with Cathy, but there just doesn’t feel like there’s any great depth being added. Yes, we experience a little more of her emotions as the story plays out, but they can be inferred from the original, so rich in feeling. Most retellings that I’ve read in the past focus on highlighting characters that were otherwise sidelined; in attempting a retelling based on one of the main characters it is inevitable I suppose that not much is gained. The point at which the story continues after Cathy’s death felt like the moment for more additions, to see how she responds to how everything plays out. For the most part this doesn’t happen, we are just told the story without comment. It is only in the last fifty pages or so that we get a little more insight into how she feels, what she thinks of the man she once loved so desperately, how she reacts to seeing her daughter grown up. If there was more of this throughout it would have felt a much stronger novel, as it is I couldn’t help but wonder what the point of the retelling was, and getting frustrated that we weren’t delving deeper with Cathy. That is not to say it’s a bad book, far from it, but I couldn’t help but feel that you’d be better off just reading the original. I adore the original, it is my most-read and favourite book, so perhaps I am coming at it from a critical place. I wonder how this book would be received by someone coming to the story for the first time. I imagine it would be read with pleasure. All the power and emotion of the original but perhaps in less intimidating writing, a bit less confusing with the repetition of character names in the second half. It is a worthy read, and the writing is rich and evocative, but for me I felt the enjoyment came from the strength of the original.

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Wednesday, 14 January 2026

The Age of Genius: The Seventeenth Century and the Birth of the Modern Mind, A. C. Grayling

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Grayling makes clear in the introduction to this book that the main argument of it is that the change in the mind of Europeans that occurred in the seventeenth century was greater than any that had occurred in all history beforehand, that it was a period that saw the triumph of reason over religion. He uses as an example of this radical shift in mindset the reaction to Shakespeare’s Macbeth, which received its first performance in 1606, where the expectation was that the audience would see the murdering of a king as against the laws of nature. Yet by 1649 Charles I of England was executed with a huge crowd as witness. To make this possible, he argues, there must have been a radical change in the collective mind. This is not a new view point, and one that has been largely discredited by historians in recent decades, yet for those of us who are reading the book for pleasure, not immersed in the debates of historians, it feels convincing. I admit I may have been more easily swayed for having been at a talk he gave when the book came out. He is an enigmatic speaker and the ideas he presented felt fascinating.


Undoubtedly the seventeenth century was a period of great thinkers and new ideas. It was also a time of great military upheaval. Grayling dedicates a decent chunk of the book to discussing the conflicts that occurred during this time period, and particularly the Thirty Years War. He does mention that if you’re less interested in military history you can skip this section. I didn’t, and although details of battles are not my main area of interest, it is important to understand the rest of the activities of the age in relation to the wider political stage. War, after all, is often a catalyst for invention and progress. Grayling highlights this by remarking how different the world and technology looked between the start of the Second World War and the end.


The characters you’d expect to find are within these pages - Locke, Descartes, Galileo, and Newton to name but a few, but also some (perhaps) less well known names. The passages about Marin Mersenne explain how he was at the centre of sharing ideas, and we then move on to early forms of a postal service. Reading this in a world of constant connectivity it is interesting to take some time to think more deeply about how ideas were spread and shared before the technology that makes information so easily accessible. 


Grayling is a proud atheist and at times there are hints of disdain for religion, somewhat ignoring the fact that religious thought wasn’t entirely replaced by the seeming rise of reason. Overall though, this is an interesting book if you’re interested in the development of thought in the seventeenth century. The idea that the way the human mind understood the world completely changed during this period may be an exaggeration but certainly it was a period of huge discoveries and theories. We learn mostly about them through the eyes of the intellectual elite rather than the general public so it’s hard to gauge exactly how much general thought did shift away from religion and belief based systems to ones based in logic. If you’re an avid reader of histories from this period you’ll likely find lots of holes to pick in this book, but for the general reader it is full of interesting history. 


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