Wednesday, 3 March 2021

The Shadowy Third: Love, Letters, and Elizabeth Bowen, Julia Parry

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

A death in the family results in Parry becoming custodian of a box of letters between her grandfather, Humphry House, who she never met, and celebrated novelist Elizabeth Bowen. The details of their affair had been passed down through family lore but the presence of these tangible remnants of their relationship compel her to go in search of them. Her grandmother, Madeline, is largely silent because she destroyed many of her own letters from the period, and yet her personality and intelligence is clear throughout. Often dismissed as dull and unintelligent by both Elizabeth and Humphry, Parry brings her to life in the pages of this fascinating memoir.

Unlike many biographers Parry places herself firmly in the book, discussing her physical journey to the places of importance to the trio, as well as the emotional journey her research takes her on. Coming to the book with no prior knowledge of Bowen I was able to enjoy the intimate family history, the discussion of how stories are passed down and pieced together, and the way voices are silenced or raised in the choices made by those who care for the archives. Parry makes history feel a very personal pursuit and the result is a book that will interest not just fans of Bowen but those interested in social and gender history.

Humphry’s affair with Elizabeth began after his initial engagement to Madeline was broken, but when their marriage became a certainty there was no question that the affair would end. He was painfully open about his dual romantic life, seemingly giving no thought to how either woman would feel being reminded of the other’s presence. He even went as far as orchestrating meetings between them, which naturally were uncomfortable events for both parties. Elizabeth was not impressed by his choice of wife and desired their affair to proceed entirely separate from either of their marriages. She was completely committed to making her success of her own but found sexual and intellectual stimulation outside of it, having many more lovers after Humphry.

Elizabeth is shown to be cutting in her assessment of other women and desires control in her affairs. She lays clear boundaries for Humphry but quickly breaks them herself. Through their letters we see high emotion and occasional jealousy, especially on the news of Madeline’s first pregnancy. The two gradually grow apart, and although their romantic attachment fades their friendship remains. Elizabeth seems to have gained a confidence from Humphry’s affections that propels her into a busy social life in London.

We see Humphry through Elizabeth’s eyes in her letters, supposedly worn down and depressed by marital and parental responsibility, yet coming alive when with her in Ireland. Despite this assessment of their marriage we see on several occasions that when Humphry and Madeline have time alone, especially when working on projects together, their relationship thrives.

Humphry does not come across as entirely likeable, frequently leaving his heavily pregnant wife to spend time with Elizabeth. Similarly, he leaves her to look after their young daughters alone, meeting their second for the first time when she was already walking and talking. We do not have written evidence of Madeline’s feelings during this time but it is not hard to feel sympathy for her, having given up her job and left her friends to move to Exeter with Humphry, she is frequently abandoned in a lonely, dank cottage.

Humphry underestimates his wife’s talents frequently. Indeed, he seems to struggle to take female intellectual pursuit seriously, being dismissive of his female University students. He does Madeline a great injustice in not appreciating her strength and active mind. She went to University at a time where it was not common, carried out meaningful work in the slums of London, and spent a month alone in Germany before their wedding, just after the Nazis had come to power. Her knowledge of German was essential to his work as he relied on her for translation. She later worked tirelessly on editions of Dickens letters, a project initiated by Humphry but which became her crowning glory. Throughout she shows determination and flare and refuses to be dismissed as a simpering housewife.

It is at times hard to believe the way Humphry conducted himself, but Parry resists judgment. She offers a fair and considered view of a history so close to her heart. This is a fascinating book made possible by the strong epistolary tradition of the participants. The letters are not presented in full, and Parry admits to editing to weave her own story, an acknowledgment that the telling of history is never without its biases. A brilliant tale of a complex marriage, and a chance to read previously unpublished letters, shining a light on a relationship that has otherwise been publicly obscured.



Wednesday, 24 February 2021

The Dud Avocado, Elaine Dundy

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Sally Jay Gorce is a young American in 1950s Paris, finding her way through the busy streets, cafés full of students having lively debates, and of course, falling in love, having affairs, and generally living life to the full. We first meet her in the morning, wearing an evening dress because she’s been unable to successfully retrieve the rest of her clothes from the laundry. She bumps into Larry, an old acquaintance, and instantly finds herself under the pressure of sexual desire. Unfortunately, mid-conversation, her lover, Teddy, a married diplomat, arrives and she has to make her excuses. We are instantly welcomed into her whirlwind of a life in which she finds herself constantly feeling out of place. Her voice is strong, humorous, naive, and oh so relatable. It is not the story itself that keeps you hooked but Sally Jay’s distinctive voice - think the endearing, lively voice of Cassandra in I Capture the Castle mixed with the humour and worldliness of Bridget Jones’s Diary. 

An aspiring actress, Gorce leaves a stable relationship for the chance to be in a film. Unfortunately, it turns out she is mostly needed to help the star with his English. Undeterred, she throws herself into the experience and enjoys the proximity to Larry that it affords. It is during this time that things begin to unravel and she sees people for who they really are. ‘That’s the story of my life. Someone’s behaviour strikes me as a bit odd and the next thing I know all hell breaks loose.’ We see this to be true several times throughout. Her innocence and hopefulness often blind her to the schemes of others, but when the time comes she’s more than able to hold her own.

Despite the light feel to the book, even amid some of the more serious encounters, there is a critique of the role of women, and a desire to be taken seriously. She is surprised to discover the expectation that she knows how to cook, sees that cooking and cleaning is the lot of other women but doesn’t see why it should be her fate too. Earlier in the novel, after an upsetting altercation with Teddy she comments ‘I reflected wearily that it was not easy to be a Woman in these stirring times. I said it then and I say it now: it just isn’t our century.’ This realisation doesn’t keep her down however, her insatiable zest for life moving her on to the next promising opportunity.

Gorce is a charming protagonist - honest and amusing, she doesn’t hold back. The writing is clever, conversational, and brilliantly astute. Sally Jay feels completely real and refreshingly candid, she’s a great character to spend some time with.

Saturday, 20 February 2021

Bad Habits, Flynn Meaney

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This post is part of the blog tour for the novel. Thanks to The Write Reads and Penguin for providing me with a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Alex Heck is embarking on her junior year at St. Mary’s Catholic School, a boarding school hundreds of miles from home with some very conservative values. There’s nothing she’d like more than to get herself expelled, her file of misdemeanours already overflowing with reports. Unfortunately for her, her dad is determined she should complete her time there and so she tries to come up with an idea so outrageous they’ll have no choice but to expel her. Putting on a production of The Vagina Monologues with the five other members of The Feminist Club seems like just the ticket, but she will, naturally, come up against a lot of resistance.

Her attempt to put on the play does run throughout the novel but isn’t really the main focus, rather a vehicle to discuss the problems that arise from living such a repressed life. It becomes clear that their sex education is severely lacking, and her sweet roommate Mary Kate can’t bring herself to say the word vagina or buy tampons (her mum posts her a supply). Alex has become the unofficial counsellor to her peers, being the person everyone goes to when they have a problem they can’t discuss with the nuns that watch over them. She may come off as brash and self-centred at times, but the messages about not being ashamed of the female body, and the right to have autonomy over what happens to it are important, and relevant to readers of any age.

Alex starts the novel very deliberately acting out and blowing situations out of proportion to make a point. Her quest for inequality does’t feel genuine but more an excuse to stand out and ruffle some feathers. Her outright dismissal of those who don’t hold the same views as her or who conduct themselves differently can make it harder to like her and undermines her pro-choice stance. However, as the novel progresses and she spends more time around groups she would usually avoid, it becomes clear that the stereotyped view she’s taken of them is often inaccurate. We begin to see the events that lead them to form the opinions they have, and although Alex is reluctant to admit she was wrong, there is some slight concession that other people can have a valuable input in the conversation, even if she still thinks her views are superior.

The boarding school setting is an ever-popular sub-genre of children’s and YA books, and Bad Habits gives it new life. It’s not all midnight feasts and hockey sticks at dawn, Meaney explores the struggle that Alex and some of her peers experience in trying to make sense of why their parents have sent them away. We see in the opening chapters how distant her own parents are and her dad, a St. Mary’s alumnus, refuses to admit what was right for him might not be for his daughter. Later in the book, when her mindset is beginning to shift, we see also how she has struggled splitting her life between California and school, completely separate from her ‘real’ life. The struggle to maintain friendships amid the disorientation of everything that’s changed while she’s been away during term time will be a familiar feeling for anyone who’s ever had to move away from their main support network.

This is an enjoyable read with a serious message amid the madcap schemes of rebellious teenagers and strict school rules. It’s written in such a way that we get Alex’s impressions of the other characters but can also see things that she is blinded to, offering us the opportunity to form our own opinions. The action takes place over only a few months but we see huge growth in many of the characters. That the side characters are also afforded the space to develop makes this a well-rounded read. 

Friday, 12 February 2021

Botanical Curses and Poisons: The Shadow-Lives of Plants, Fez Inkwright

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This post is part of the blog tour for the book. Thanks to Random Things Tours and Liminal 11 for providing me with a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Inkwright’s second book focuses its attention on the dark side of plants, many of which are commonly found in the wild, and even our kitchens. The book opens with a few thematic chapters that focus on the broad history of plants and their uses. Within these pages we learn about Roman emperors who ingested small doses of poison daily to avoid succumbing to attempted poisonings, plants that try to protect against being eaten with their bitter or spicy taste (which humans happily ignore…), and the general trend of poisonings being associated with women. It’s a brilliant introduction that immediately grabs your interest and gives you a taste of the detail that’s to come.

The rest of the book takes a more encyclopaedic approach with plants arranged alphabetically. Unusually for this type of book, the writing is so engaging you can just as easily read it cover to cover or dip in and out as the mood takes you. Inkwright’s depth of knowledge and research is apparent throughout, revealing not just botanical detail but a broad range of social and political history. She acknowledges her sources in both footnotes and bibliography, so for those whose interest is piqued there’s plenty of further reading to be done.

There are tales of everyday foods that contain deadly secrets, the pips of apples and cherries both contain cyanide, for example. Plants have also played a potentially lethal role in the pursuit of beauty over the years. Cuckoo Pint’s roots were popular as an exfoliant in the medieval period despite its potential to blister and burn the skin. Atropine, found in Deadly Nightshade, was known to be used by medieval Venetian ladies to dilate their pupils. Unfortunately, frequent use could cause it to travel along the optic nerve and cause psychological damage. On the flip side, atropine has been used by opticians prior to surgery and can also be used to treat the ill effects of some other poisons. Inkwright teases out many of these contradictions and highlights the thin line between poison and cure.

She writes also of traditions that give plants a consciousness - basil is believed to belong to the Devil in some countries and thought to only thrive when it is cursed at or hated. Inkwright explores the rituals and beliefs that surround plants, often used in burial rites or to ward off evil spirits, and considers how these beliefs came into being and what characteristics have caused some plants to be associated with the underworld.

This is a visually appealing book, beautifully illustrated throughout and with a striking cover that will make you want to pick it up. You do not need to go in with any botanical knowledge, but you will certainly come out with lots of interesting facts. It will make you look at every day plants with fresh eyes and consider the role they may have played in historic events such as the Salem Witch Trials and even Van Gogh’s distinctive style. Pick up a copy to find out what role plants might have played in these and many more fascinating scenarios. 



Wednesday, 3 February 2021

The Midnight Library, Matt Haig

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Nora Seed has lived a life of great potential - she could have been a competitive swimmer, in a signed rock band, married, or living the good life in Australia. Yet, at the age of thirty-five, she finds herself unemployed, alone, and miserable. The weight of regret lies heavy on her, along with guilt for the way she has let down so many people, causing a distance between her and those she loves. She doesn’t see the good she does, collecting medicine for an elderly neighbour or providing cheap piano lessons to a teenager that needs something to focus on to stay out of trouble. When her cat dies, it’s the last in a series of disappointments that she just can’t see her way through. She takes an overdose, but instead of finding herself in the afterlife she lands in an in-between world, The Midnight Library, where her old school librarian, Mrs Elm, explains that the library is full of all the lives Nora could have had, offering her the opportunity to see what would have happened if she’d made different decisions. If she finds the right life, she can stay there forever.

At first she tries to correct some of her biggest regrets and sees what her life would have been if she’d stayed with Dan, her ex-fiancé, hadn’t quit swimming, or left her brother’s band. In experiencing these other lives she realises that not only do they come with their own challenges, but also help her to appreciate aspects of her root life. When she enters a different life she doesn’t automatically receive the knowledge she’d have accumulated if she’d been there since birth and so she has many awkward encounters with people she doesn’t know, talks to give on subjects she hasn’t got the expertise to pull off, and histories that she’s unaware of. This naturally makes it difficult to settle into the life and leaves her feeling like an imposter. For the reader, it can offer some lighter moments, but also causes some frustration, it feels like a fatal flaw in the system. It also makes you wonder what happens to that version of Nora once our one has left. At times, she stays in her alternate life for long stretches of time, it would not be so easy to explain away any strange behaviour or the loss of memory for the period she was there.

As the number of lives lived increases she begins to lose sight of herself and wonders what it is that she really wants. There are some things that seem to stay the same no matter the life she steps into, and she begins to question if they really are different lives or if the furnishings have just changed. She comes to realise that every life has its good and bad points, there is no one perfect life. This is ultimately the message of the book, that all our lives are made up of the good and the bad, but that they are worth living. We do not control the outcomes of the choices we make and living in a way to please other people will never lead to fulfilment. 

Nora is the main focus and we only see other lives through her own, but it becomes clear that many of the damaged relationships she believed were caused by her own poor choices are actually more to do with other people’s own struggles. She learns to look beyond her own regrets to see more clearly the lives of others. This also helps her to make peace with the way some of her relationships turned out with people who are no longer around to make amends. She has the opportunity to see that it’s not her fault that she has been the brunt of unkindness and that even if she’d sacrificed her own desires in favour of others’ there would still have been conflict and disappointment. It also helps her to understand why people behave the way they do, by seeing the same weaknesses recur in others she is able to get to the root of their decisions and their outcomes. We see side characters also struggling to find happiness in their varied lives, of their core nature never really shifting whatever circumstances they find themselves in.

This is an interesting read with a promising premise. The trajectory of the story is fairly predictable and a little twee at times, but the messages about self-worth and not letting regrets limit you are valuable. If this book finds you at just the right moment it could be life changing. Whether or not you need to hear that your life matters, it’s an enjoyable read and might just help you let go of any regrets that have been niggling at you.

Friday, 29 January 2021

Listen, Deborah Pezzuto with Linda Watson-Brown

This post is part of the blog tour for the memoir. Thanks to Random Things Tours and the author for providing me with a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Pezzuto and her husband Alessandro had a difficult journey to parenthood. Initially they went through the anxiety and uncertainty involved in the adoption process, eventually bringing their daughter Keisha home. Knowing that they wanted a sibling for her, they endured the physically and emotionally draining experience of IVF. When, finally, they were able to become pregnant with an egg donor, they were overjoyed at the thought of expanding their family. Their twins, Dylan and Zack, were born profoundly deaf and so their arrival was not the joyous occasion they had dreamed of.


Pezzuto is honest about the heartache they felt at the diagnosis and her fear that they would be discriminated against for being different. She was completely committed to giving them the best chance in life, regularly travelling from Mexico City to New York for therapy. She describes how their therapy became an obsession for her and how it completely changed her priorities, previously having been incredibly career driven. Alessandro is largely absent during the first year due to the constant fear of losing his job and the medical insurance that came with it. She talks of the strain the absence and exhaustion took on the relationship, yet admits she would always have wanted to be the one looking after them and leading on their treatment. She speaks also of many wonderful professionals that helped them along the way, a heartening display of those in the health service genuinely caring about the outcomes for those who fall under their care. Pezzuto is a great advocate for the work they do and the strength they find to support families such as hers.


As their children grow and they move as a family to the UK for the provision of therapy and schooling, she begins to reassess her role now that she is no longer depended on for everything. It is during this time that she begins to meditate on the role of women and motherhood in the modern world. She comments that often a mother will know there is something wrong with their child but that their concerns are brushed aside. ‘Women are silenced in this, as they have been in so many things throughout history. It is ironic that even when they are fulfilling the role that many cultures believe is their only role, they are still ignored or brushed aside.’ Her situation had its own unique challenges but she acknowledges that she is not alone in her struggles. ‘I was in my bubble, but I could still see out, I could still see other women who were struggling just as much, even if it was with other things. I realised just how many of us see looking after ourselves as an indulgence, when actually it should be our priority.’


This is a moving and ultimately uplifting book that reveals the many complex difficulties parents and couples can face. Pezzuto does not hide behind positive affirmations nor does she rose tint her experience. Writing the book at a time when her family circumstances had improved, naturally affords a more positive outlook but the exhaustion and personal neglect are described in great detail, as well as how her and Alessandro found their way back to themselves. There are messages within about the importance of self-care and commitment that offer positive advice to all who read it no matter their individual circumstances. 




Tuesday, 26 January 2021

Trobairitz the Storyteller, Celia Micklefield

This post is part of the blog tour for the novel. Thanks to Random Things Tours and the author for providing me with a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.


Weed is a female truck driver who has put up strong walls around herself, unwilling to let others in or give anything genuine of herself. One day, at a service station, she begins telling stories to fellow truck drivers, who know her only at Trobairitz, a reference to the female troubadours of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Through her tales she begins to form a connection with the group who eagerly await the next instalment. When tragedy hits Italy she rushes off to offer support, and is grateful for the network she’s formed. The trip also brings her closer to Jimi, challenging her assumptions about him.


The book has a dual narrative - that of Weed’s life, and the world she creates in her tales. Getting the balance right in a book that has two parallel storylines can be difficult, and Micklefield stays mostly within two long sections of each, with just a few digressions. This allows you to be pulled completely out of one section while you immerse yourself in the other, but leads to disorientation when it switches back again. The final dip into Montalhan Sans Vents, Weed’s fictional location, managed to tie off the novel neatly, helping the two threads not to feel too disparate. The fact that the two stories are unrelated also means that the largely separate sections don’t lose anything in being so distinct. Other tales would have demanded more interweaving.


The world of Montalhan is populated by interesting characters - a mother trying to build a life around her dreams, two former sex workers bonding over their shared secret, and a mayor trying to make sense of an historic family feud that continues to haunt them. You come to care about their stories and the kindness and community that helps individuals through hardship. During the main section of the story you become absorbed in their world, but, possibly because they remain largely neglected in the final third of the book, it is Weed’s story that stays with you.

Weed is portrayed as a bit of a loner, never wanting to stay in one place for long. She explains at one point that difficult events in her childhood made her realise at the age of twelve that life isn’t fair and that she’d have to look after herself. Despite having people who clearly care for her, she continues in her solitary life, avoiding laying roots. Her son, Fabian, in some ways reflects this lifestyle, but is distant and unfeeling toward her for reasons that are never explored. Certainly she feels a lot of guilt and believes she’s made many mistakes in her parenting. Conversations with others reveal that she was far from a terrible mother, but she struggles to believe it. 


This was an enjoyable read but one that felt like an introduction. A sequel is expected and I hope it will provide some deeper context and backstory to the characters, allowing readers to understand more fully their psychology and how they became the people they are when we first meet them. 



Wednesday, 20 January 2021

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, Agatha Christie

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The novel opens not with the the death of Roger Ackroyd as you might expect, but with the suspected suicide of Mrs Ferrars. Her death is quickly swept aside however when Ackroyd is discovered dead in his study, a fatal stab wound to his neck. They’re not entirely unconnected, the two victims having been lovers, Ackroyd receives a letter revealing the blackmailer that led to her death on the night of his own demise. Our narrator, Dr James Sheppard, was present when the letter arrived and witnessed first hand the uneasiness of Ackroyd, anxiously asking him to check that his window is locked. In the story that follows, world renowned detective Hercule Poirot comes out of retirement to investigate, and all those with a connection to Ackroyd appear to have a motive. Sheppard acts in the role of assistant and is constantly confused by Poirot’s methods.

Christie masterfully portrays her characters, Sheppard’s sister Caroline is introduced in the early pages of the book and her profile immediately gives you a sense of her. She has an uncanny ability to find out what’s happening in the lives of her neighbours without ever having to leave the house, and frustrates her brother by constantly knowing more than him. Poirot too offers some light relief, being introduced in a marrow throwing incident. He has his little eccentricities and although willing to share his discoveries, he keeps his conclusions to himself until the end.

Sheppard’s account remains as impartial as possible, Poirot commenting on his diligence in his note making when shared, but noting also that he modestly writes himself out of the narrative. There are moments where Sheppard can be a slightly frustrating narrator, seemingly so trusting of those involved that even the most suspicious behaviours barely make an impression.

Poirot carefully uncovers the secrets of each suspect, explaining away their motives with reason and fact. All these small reveals keep you hooked throughout, but as some characters barely feature it is occasionally hard to muster enthusiasm for the truth behind their deceptions, yet the final revelation will leave you flabbergasted. The reader is given enough information to deduce the solution, but I found myself quashing my suspicions when I’d landed on the truth, unable to believe it could be true. I’d be interested in re-reading the novel knowing the conclusion to fully appreciate the clever storytelling that obscures the truth until the appropriate moment.

Christie weaves a complex web of intrigue that will make you constantly question your assumptions. A good cosy murder mystery with a dubious host of characters, perfect for the long winter nights.

Wednesday, 13 January 2021

The Story of a New Name, Elena Ferrante, trans. Ann Goldstein

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The second of Ferrante’s scintillating Neapolitan Novels picks up from the close of My Brilliant Friend, Lila and Stefano’s wedding. Elena, our narrator, explains that she has access to Lila’s inner thoughts from this time in the form of a series of notebooks which she refers to throughout, showing how her perceptions at the time often didn’t align with what was being experienced by Lila. She has been entrusted with these diaries but callously destroys them. We are thrown straight back in to the complex, destructive friendship between these two young women. Throughout the book their lives diverge, creating a distance between them. Lila’s life shrinks as she comes to terms with life as a wife while Elena continues to study and even has the opportunity to leave Naples.

Their friendship is truly the heart of the novel, and although they care deeply for each other and want to appear in the best light, there’s a lot of jealousy and competition which leads them to behave far from admirably. Elena seems to have an inferiority complex when it comes to Lila, believing she is more than her, that she would be shining far brighter with the same opportunities. This can lead her to make bad decisions as she desperately tries to keep up with Lila, yet always conscious of the contrast between their experiences. This can also result in her acting unkindly to Lila, unable to see beyond her jealousy of all the wonderful things she believes Lila to be in possession of, wilfully ignoring her suffering.

Lila continues to be fiery and impulsive. She has a reputation in the neighbourhood and receives no sympathy when it’s clear she has been beaten, many believing that she deserved it and needed pulling into line. She is controlling and manipulative, forcing Elena to be part of her schemes against her will, and doesn’t give the pain she causes her friend a second thought. The reader does feel for her - she is only sixteen when she marries Stefano and deals with a lot at such a young age. However, there is a sense of the power she wields and her behaviour is difficult. Unlike Elena, she does seem to genuinely want her friend to succeed, despite the pain it causes her to see while her own intelligence is stifled. On occasion these feelings do spill out and she can be spiteful, driving a wedge between them.

There are moments where Elena mixes with other students and suddenly finds herself interacting comfortably, being understood. This doesn’t extend to her time outside of Naples however, where she masks her Neapolitan accent and works hard to be accepted. She succeeds to an extent, but it is shown to be fairly superficial and fragile. In contrast, when she returns to Naples, an act she dreads, they see the difference in her and so she feels out of place wherever she goes.

The socio-economic environment they grow up in is touched on throughout, as are the inequalities between men and women. It is accepted that women will be beaten in marriage and that they should behave according to their husband’s desires. The younger generations perpetuate the behaviour that was normalised in their youth. Elena’s ambitions are also limited by her gender, her male colleagues at school are offered far different opportunities for life after graduation. This stings Elena with a sense of injustice and the disappointment that comes with knowing she’s just as able as her male counterparts.

This is a stunning read that offers a deep insight into the lives of its young protagonists. Their characters are often unlikable yet you feel for them, seeing the events and situations that have formed their personalities. It’s an honest appraisal of friendship that doesn’t hide the dark side that comes with intimacy. This is a hard book to put down and I can’t wait to immerse myself once more into Elena and Lila’s story in the third book of the series.

Wednesday, 6 January 2021

The Devil and the Dark Water, Stuart Turton

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It’s 1634 and the Saardam is setting off from Batavia on its long journey to Amsterdam. Aboard are the governor general, Jan Haan, hoping to be admitted into the Gentlemen 17 on arrival, his family and mistress, a renowned detective, Samuel Pipps, boarding in chains for a crime unknown to most onboard, including his loyal assistant, Arent Hayes. There’s crew and treasure aplenty aboard the ship, and when things start going wrong, everyone seems to have motive. A demon known as Old Tom whispers to the passengers, tempting them to commit murder. Trapped in the confines of the ship, the tension grows rapidly as the sign of Old Tom spreads and seemingly impossible events unfold.

The opening is dramatic - a leper at the dock warns passengers that the ship is cursed before apparently self-combusting. On closer examination it’s noted that his tongue had been cut out and an injury to his leg means he would not have been able to position himself where he made the announcement. This is a brief taste of the type of mysteries ahead, and gets you hooked right away.

There are moments where the pace lags, and the vast array of characters can take a while to orient yourself with, but the subplots keep you interested. Sara, Jan Haan’s wife, is on surprisingly good terms with his mistress. She despises her cruel husband and is surprised to discover others have experienced a softer side in years past. Their daughter Lia is in possession of a brilliant mind but is forced to conceal her intelligence as it is not seen as fitting for her sex. In Batavia she was kept separate from the outside world and hates her father for the abuse he inflicts on Sara.

Arent seems to have a good heart, but he also has the mark of Old Tom on his wrist, a mark he received in childhood during a curious incident he doesn’t fully remember. There is a constant sense of mistrust, but Turton writes the characters in a way that draws you in to some of them, instinctively feeling that they can’t be malicious. Others, however, maintain a sense of mystery.

The second half of the book is where the action really ramps up with the smaller mysteries revealed and the peril to those onboard rising with every page. When the final reveal arrives it feels a little rushed, giving us a sense of the disorientation that the characters would feel as their accepted reality changes in a few short moments. The truth is complex and I definitely didn’t see it coming, yet was left feeling as though something were missing, that there had been a slight misstep with the characters we felt we knew acting in ways that didn’t feel quite true to them.

This is an interesting read, playing with the idea of superstition, guilt, and suspicion. Despite its historical setting, Turton is upfront about the fact historical accuracy comes second to plot, and the book is none the weaker for it. He creates a claustrophobic, intense atmosphere that has the overall feeling of a different time. The characters’ background stories and motivation make them intriguing players in a novel that defies definition.

Pick up a copy:
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