We Can’t All Be Astronauts, Tim Clare

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

In Clare’s debut book, we follow him on his journey to publication. His friends are all excelling, getting book deals, sometimes hugely lucrative ones, and he’s the only one that doesn’t seem to be succeeding in the craft he has convinced himself is his destiny. As he repeatedly reminds himself and us, he has leaned so heavily into this dream that he really isn’t qualified for anything else. Living with his parents after a relationship breakdown, he descends into a pit of depression, horribly jealous of his friends’ successes and tired of hearing about their latest wins. With a book launch party on the near horizon he gives himself an ultimatum - get a book deal or quit trying. The very fact you’re reading a published book penned by him gives you a clue as to how it will end, but the journey is an interesting one.

In his attempts to break into the seemingly exclusive world of publishing he finds himself heading up a show for Channel 4 in which he has to carry out such ridiculous activities as handing out blank pieces of paper pretending they are promotional material for his book, even to those who might be interested in the book, and practically stalking those with power in the industry. It is cringeworthy stuff but also reveals the vulnerability of those who take part in such endeavours. Desperate to make a name for himself he feels compelled to go along with the schemes, big names feigning interest for the cameras, only to be left out in the cold once the crew have gone home. Later, we see him awkwardly shuffling around the London Book Fair, pretending to be a publisher in the hope of getting at its beating heart. All he really discovers is that the practicalities of the deals are quite boring, and that there are many more deluded authors out there just as desperate for success as him. It sobers him, realising all the passion and enthusiasm in the world doesn’t necessarily mean you will have success.

Indeed, in the many conversations he has with writers, publishers, and TV producers influencing the world to read different books, he doesn’t get the golden nugget he’s seeking to make everything clear to him. Writers talk about how difficult it is, how you can have had many books published but still need a day job, those working in the book industry often seem to have had some aspirations to write themselves, but for many it becomes a burden and they choose to stop pursuing it. Those he imagined to be hard-nosed business people end up being lovely. There is a remarkable amount of generosity with people’s willingness to talk to him and share their experiences. On a more personal level, although retaining his jealousies of his friends for the most part, when he visits them at Edinburgh Fringe he does have a moment of realisation that they’re all working really hard for not much reward, that they’re all on the same journey and there’s nothing wrong with being a few steps behind.

It feels almost unbelievable at times that all his friends are becoming published, that all these bigwigs will give him time to discuss publishing and the author’s journey, that he gets away with some of his more outrageous schemes. He doesn’t shy away from his less admirable moments. He is honest about the shallowness of jealousy, of the feelings of failure, but also acknowledges that he is lucky to have good family and friends, a home, and the luxury to explore his dreams. For any aspiring writers this is a realistic exploration of the struggles of authorship, of the myth of the Big Author, and that sometimes you need honest feedback, not just simpering encouragement. 

The main section of the book ends with the launch party, with him having gained some perspective and a greater appreciation for the people around him. It feels like a satisfying ending, and then we are given an epilogue to explain how the book came into being. Curiosity is only vaguely satisfied with this as the matter is dealt with fairly swiftly, the bulk of this final section being a moving account of his final visit to his Pa and a reflection on how brilliant his parents are. 

An interesting read by an author who is willing to put his worst face forward in the name of authorial integrity. This honesty makes him relatable; we’ve all had unadmirable thoughts and felt jealous of those who seem to be living the life we want. Many will also relate to the feeling that they’ve found exactly what they want to do with their life, the trouble is getting someone to agree to pay you to spend your days doing it. This is not an aspirational, rags to riches story, but one in which Clare grafts, puts himself in excruciating situations, and is swayed by success away from writing people enjoy to overly pretentious prose which nobody wants to read. It is, in some ways, a coming of age tale for those in the difficult post-graduation years trying to find a path through life. 

Pick up a copy:

Waterstones

Landlines, Raynor Winn

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

We catch up with Moth and Raynor in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic on their thriving farm in Cornwall. Moth’s health is as bad as it's ever been as he struggles to walk short distances and has a fall that makes them worry his decline is reaching the point of no return. Raynor can’t help but hold on to the hope that their previous long distance walks gave her. Wracked with guilt, she broaches the topic of another one. When the state of the world allows it, they head north to tackle the Cape Wrath trail, famously one of the toughest, wildest walks the UK has to offer, and one Moth has always dreamed of. The fear that she’s pushing him too far, doctor’s words about not doing anything too strenuous circling her mind at every sign of difficulty. Moth has lost the confidence of his stride and developed a vertigo that makes scrambling up the sides of mountains a real challenge. As they battle bad weather, closed cafes, and communities that are suspicious of any outsiders, will their longest walk yet give them the miracle they’re dreaming of?

As they wind their way through the wilds of Scotland, Wynn reflects on the challenges of the communities they pass through. Many cafes won’t let them inside for fear of Covid, shops are bare of supplies because stock is held up at the ports in Brexit bureaucracy, and the landscapes are frequently devoid of the wildlife that should be there. She talks about the overfarming of land and how it is stripping away the goodness of the soil, losing the insects that signify a healthy ecosystem. Their own land in Cornwall has flourished with their gentler approach, with wildlife re-emerging. She often comments on the climate emergency and the role humans have and continue to play in it. 

The remote northern reaches of Scotland, once quiet communities, have become overrun since the North Coast 500 route was formalised. Now cars and campers line every spare section of road, parking dangerously and harmfully to local residents. They nonetheless find solitude in much of their walk as they move away from the well-trodden paths and roads, finding their own way. By the time they reach Fort William and the popular West Highland Way, the number of walkers make it feel busy compared to the emptiness of the landscapes they’ve traversed to get there. Along the way they have encounters with animals and birds, some of which they haven’t seen for a long time. When times are good the joy and peace of nature shines through.

Winn doesn’t shy away from the difficulties. Of course, they have Moth’s declining health to contend with, but there’s also the relentless rain, dwindling supplies between far flung shops, and the continual challenge of finding somewhere to camp. There are times when it all feels too difficult and they consider turning back, getting a bus to the closest town and taking a train home, but the call of nature is strong, as is their dedication to each other. At the heart of all of Winn’s books is her love for Moth, their shared life, and the confidence and hope it has given them both. There is sadness, of course, at the possible end being close, but it is this that drives them to try everything they can to make Moth well, to give them more precious time together.

With Landlines we return to a more linear story, and one that will inspire and give us all hope. Moth and Raynor are a remarkable couple, putting themselves through extreme challenges, but with a feeling that they are exactly where they are meant to be. It is also nice to see them be able to afford to stop in B&Bs and to buy a bowl of hot chips when they want to, a far cry from The Salt Path where they were having to make pennies stretch across weeks. A love letter to nature, their marriage, and friendship. A lovely read.

Pick up a copy:

Waterstones

Bookshop

Book Review: Takeaway: Stories From A Childhood Behind The Counter, Angela Hui

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

Growing up in the small Welsh village of Beddau, Hui spent her evenings and weekends serving customers in the family Chinese takeaway, packing prawn crackers, and on ‘lid duty’. She struggles with the separation this causes between her and her school friends, never able to spend any significant time hanging out with them. It’s also difficult as a young woman being on the front line of customer service, having to deal with sometimes abusive customers and men making inappropriate comments. Family life is a constant slog and it puts a strain on all of them, her mother holding everything together while her father gambles away a lot of their earnings and becomes increasingly aggressive. Despite this, they make time to prepare wholesome meals to share as a family before service begins. 

For some readers it will seem that not a huge amount happens in this book. The repetitive nature of the endless labour is reflected in the narrative, and moments of climax often pass without too severe consequences. However, it is this repetition of labour, the growing up in an environment where you feel under attack from the local population, the endless casual racism which shape Hui during her formative years. She has no escape from it. There is very little time for rest in takeaway life. At weekends they sometimes go to Cardiff but this involves Chinese lessons, which she does not enjoy, going to wholesale food suppliers to purchase items for the business, and, the best part, family meal in a restaurant full of people they know. A wonderful social event where they can indulge in food they didn’t have to prepare themselves.

A recurring theme of the book is Hui’s feelings of disconnection. She doesn’t feel entirely at ease in China as she has spent her whole life in Wales, and yet in the Welsh Valley she is seen as foreign and is othered. She also struggles with the language barrier with her parents, who have tried to learn English but only have quite a basic grasp of it. This means that Hui and her brothers have to act as translators for them and take on more of the admin work than you would ordinarily expect from children. This puts a strain on the relationship as a sense of resentment grows, but also means that she feels she can’t talk to her parents about things that really matter to her. She continues to struggle with what she sees as the two separate parts of her life into young adulthood as she goes to University and leaves the family home. She tries desperately to keep different aspects of her life separate, especially when it comes to boyfriends, who she is convinced her parents won’t approve of for not being Chinese. It is cathartic for her to realise it’s OK to blur the lines and let people in to her whole world. 

The book is a thoughtful portrayal of the struggles of being a teenager and growing up in a world where there isn’t any separation between home life and work, but it is also an exploration of the work that goes in behind the scenes at a takeaway. We see throughout how relentless the work is, how it shapes their family life, and that on days where everyone else is relaxing and celebrating, they are working even harder. Customers can be lovely and become familiar, while others take any opportunity to complain and forget that the person behind the counter is trying their best and has feelings too. The descriptions of her feeling exposed to unpleasant customers, often making her uncomfortable as a young woman, are visceral, and are reminiscent of many experiences of working in customer service. Local youths frequently torment them, coming in with fake money, stealing plants from their back garden, and even breaking their window. Hui’s parents are reluctant to ever get the police involved and try to deal with situations themselves. Her mother is firm and will stand her ground when the customer is in the wrong. Her father on occasions oversteps the mark and threatens violence. Nonetheless, they feel vulnerable, and as technology changes and they don’t keep up it becomes increasingly difficult to turn a profit. 

I was quite shocked by the racism they experience, and Hui expresses how it wears you down. She is disappointed at her graduation that her name is mis-pronounced, and after a lifetime of being asked where she’s really from, having prank callers phone the takeaway regularly to mock her family’s country of origin, and people’s shock at her ability to speak the language of the country in which she was born, it is felt keenly. She also discusses the way the food they serve in their takeaway has been designed for a Western palate. Her parents don’t like them to eat what’s on the menu because it is unhealthy, and her father keeps his best dishes just for them. Food is a sign of love for her parents, and having suffered severe food shortages in their own youth they are determined that their children are well fed. 

An interesting read that combines a coming of age tale that many can relate to yet with specific challenges, and a broader discussion on the clash of cultures and the sense of being an outsider that is familiar to many who have chosen a new country to call home. Food is central to the text, with vividly described meals and even recipes at the end of each chapter. There are a few moments of (presumably) unintentional repetition where we are told the same snippets of anecdotes again, but broadly this is an enjoyable read.

Pick up a copy:
Waterstones
Bookshop

Book Review: The Wild Silence, Raynor Winn

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

The Wild Silence picks up where The Salt Path left off. Moth and Raynor are living in rented rooms in a chapel, Moth is studying, and Raynor continues to seek work while simultaneously becoming more and more socially anxious. Even within the safety of their home she struggles to sleep unless she is inside the tent. Transitioning back into a settled life proves more difficult than she had imagined, and with Moth at the University for the majority of the day she spends most of her time alone, worrying about how the sedentary lifestyle is affecting her husband’s health. She spends time trying to work out the science behind why his health improved during their months long walk along the South West Coast Path despite the fact doctors had advised him to take it easy. 

Decline and death are always on the periphery, and it is brought into sharper focus when Raynor’s mother is taken seriously ill. As she returns to the place she grew up and has to confront the imminent loss of a parent she begins to explore the past. Her parents never approved of Moth, this free-spirited young man who took her to the mountains at every opportunity. She looks back at their early relationship, the trips that didn’t go to plan, the difficult situations they’ve shared and survived, and the burgeoning love she felt for him, her reliance on him throughout, and her unwavering trust. She would follow him anywhere. And yet, in the difficult last days of her mother’s life she refuses to let him be there for her, she cannot bear to have him see death, to see his future laid bare. Perhaps even more so, she can’t allow the reality of that future to touch her, she has to keep them separate. Her honesty about the sometimes strained relationship with her parents is refreshing, letting us in on the realities of contemplating a lifetime connection at the very end. These passages are entirely heartbreaking - for those who have lost a parent it will likely feel all too familiar and for those dreading the day this loss comes for them, the stark honesty will make you want to hold your loved ones close.

As Moth’s health deteriorates so does his memory. Raynor is shocked to discover that he is losing memory of parts of their walk, a shared experience that feels so important to her that he remember. As a response, she writes a memoir about the walk as a gift to him. This eventually becomes The Salt Path, and in this, its sequel, we are privy to the disorienting process that led to its publication. For someone increasingly struggling to be around other people, and wanting to hide their former homelessness from the local community, their story becoming public and the demand for her to take part in publicity events is a challenge. However, the book proves a great opportunity for them, leading to contacts that have the potential to change their life. One such contact leads to them taking on a farm in an attempt to regenerate it. It is a huge job, and it seems wrong that they are expected to pay rent for a home that is uninhabitable while they sink their own money and a huge amount of time into not just the land but the home. Despite the challenges and the physical toll it takes, seeing the land begin to come to life, the local wildlife return, brings a sense of peace.

Constantly torn between desperately wanting to keep Moth moving, and fear that her insistence that he doesn’t rest is making him worse, by the end of the book they are on a challenging hike in the hostile wilderness of Iceland, on the cusp of winter setting in. Along the way they are surprised by how other hikers behave around them. They all seem to be in their twenties and don’t want to mix with the group of older walkers, but there is an underlying strangeness to the way they interact with them. It’s only later that Raynor realises how they already know their story.

A slightly meandering narrative that covers a lot of ground. This is a lot less of a hiking memoir than The Salt Path, more of a personal exploration of a marriage and the relationships that hold our lives together. The passages about having her first book published feel somewhat meta, but it is an honest portrayal of the joys and challenges that come with success. Winn never shies away from the difficult moments in life and lays bare intimate details of some of the most challenging experiences. An emotional read, and one that briefly re-caps her story to date so you could pick it up even if you haven’t read the first book, although it is definitely worth reading both. 

Pick up a copy:

Bookshop

Waterstones

The Panic Years, Nell Frizzell

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

The Panic Years - often the period covering their 20s and 30s for many women where every decision made feels dominated by the question hanging over them - do you want to become a mother? Navigating this question is difficult in and of itself but has wider implications on a woman’s life. Often, they will get stuck in a job, not wanting to move to a new role where they’ll lose their accumulated maternity rights, put off retraining with the knowledge they might not be able to complete, or worry about spending too long building a career that it’s too late to get pregnant, yet needing to progress enough to make childcare affordable (why this pressure often falls solely on the mother is infuriating and baffling. Frizzell unpacks many of the social and political reasons why the burden of making decisions about parenthood so often falls on women).

Frizzell’s own panic years were exacerbated by becoming unexpectedly single in her late twenties. She knew she wanted a baby and that her mother had experienced a fairly early menopause. This inspires a flurry of activity both professionally and sexually. She writes with honesty about the complex feelings she experiences when close friends announce pregnancies and engagements, the feeling of it being a race, as though other people reaching these milestones somehow made it less likely that she would.

She explores the unhealthy obsession people have with others’ lives, the jealousy of seeing happy family photos online yet acknowledging that the reverse is also often true with young parents scrolling enviously through child-free holiday pictures. This culture of comparison and the curated, filtered life that we expose to the world serves no-one. In reaction to a lack of commitments tying them to one place, Frizzell and her partner Nick move to Berlin for a summer with another couple. She admits to posting online about the experience with some desire to cause jealousy in those that she is jealous of.

Her fear of exposing her desire for commitment and a child finally breaks and she begins to pressure an uncertain Nick about trying to get pregnant. It makes for uncomfortable reading at times but she makes the valid counterpoint that somebody else’s indecision should not force her to use contraceptive methods that are ultimately detrimental to her wellbeing. They do eventually decide to try to become pregnant and succeed quickly, but she admits that trying to bend Nick to her desires gave her time to test out her reasoning, to really be ready herself.

The visceral description of her multi-day labour does not shy away from the difficulty of it yet manages to be beautiful and empowering, When her baby finally arrives she is honest about the struggles of being a new mum, the exhaustion, isolation, and worry. This is the key to this book, Frizzell never hides the less than flattering sides of her experience, admitting to jealousies and spite. She tackles difficult topics such as how long it takes to like, let alone love, your offspring, how in the endless sleepless nights you wonder if you made the right decision. This honesty is useful not just for those who are considering embarking on the journey of parenthood, but also for those who have had these same feelings and felt ashamed. She validates the turmoil of emotions that so many struggle with daily.

In the book’s conclusion she examines the positives to come out of the panic years, the focus and drive it instills, yet admits to not being out the other side of it just yet. An interesting, emotional read that can be a comfort in acknowledging you’re not alone in the flux, or an enlightening revelation for those close to people going through it.

Pick up a copy:
Bookshop
Waterstones

Drinking Custard: Diary of a Confused Mum, Lucy Beaumont

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

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

Beaumont’s amusing memoir of deciding to have a baby, pregnancy, and early motherhood will have you laughing out loud and sympathising with the challenges of parenthood. Written in a relaxed, honest style, with the content taken from her diaries, you see how her feelings about parenting change from day to day, and feel the exhaustion and joy that comes with raising a small human.

The introduction felt a bit much, with an excess of exclamation marks and a writing style I wasn’t sure I’d get on with, but as you get into the bulk of the book you see Beaumont’s personality shine through, and enjoy the candid approach. Her list of reasons for wanting a child are largely influenced by adverts showing an idyllic version of parenthood which trick her into thinking white shirts and carpets mix well with babies, and that a preference for going to bed early will put her in good stead. She also talks about deciding she wants a baby but knowing it would be best if her husband, Jon, thinks it was his idea. 

Naturally, things don’t go to plan, starting with the birth. Her daughter Elsie turns out not to be a good sleeper and cries when not held. This leads to her pounding the streets with a pram, unable to stop for a moment for fear of the shrieking that will ensue. She begins to realise all those beautiful, happy families you see probably aren’t out for a peaceful stroll after all, but are instead forced to walk endlessly to keep their little angel happy.

She talks about the trials and tribulations of trying to find the right playgroup for them, and her desire to fit in with the other mums. She’s also very honest about the contradictions of motherhood - the lack of a sense of self and need to go out into the world as an adult, and yet the crushing difficulty of leaving Elsie at school for the day.

This is an insightful, funny book that will have parents nodding in recognition, and give those thinking about having a baby a small taste of the realities of it. A great book with a big personality.

Pick up a copy:
Bookshop
Foyles
Waterstones

London Clay: Journeys in the Deep City, Tom Chivers

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

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

In this fascinating book, Chivers take us on an exploration of London, looking beyond the modern city to the forgotten past that has left subtle marks, if you know where to look. Written in a relaxed manner, Chivers takes us with him as he walks familiar streets, enlists the help of enthusiasts to aid his search for ancient rivers and geological features, and gives us a glimpse into his own life and his relationship with the places he visits. This is a book that will make you look at the city with fresh eyes and wonder what lies beneath your feet. 

At the start of each section is a map showing the make-up of the ground covered, helping readers visually understand the journey they’re about to go on. A sinkhole near his home on Petticoat Lane is the jumping board for the first section which will take you from Chaucer to the London riots of 2011 and bombings of 2005 with breathtaking speed, and with an emotional punch for those whose memories of the more recent events still haunt them. His broad sweep approach allows patterns to emerge from history, reminding us that although the scenery might have changed, the struggles and ambitions of humankind are recognisable across the centuries.

Clutching his modified map of London, Chivers covers huge swathes of the city, remarking on feats of engineering and the layers of history that are at times disturbed or discovered in building works. We learn about rivers that have been bricked over, Bazalgette’s famous sewerage system, and the fact Westminster Palace once sat on an island. We learn about a storm in 1928 that returned it briefly to this, filled the moat of the Tower of London, and sadly took the lives of ten locals.

This is a reflective, emotive book, a love letter to London both past and present. It feels very much of its time with references to Brexit, Jeremy Corbyn, and terrorist attacks. Contemporary readers will be familiar with these topics, which are mentioned only briefly, but I wonder if future generations of readers will have the same understanding, the same visceral response. Similarly, his laying out which streets he is walking along may bore those who can’t visualise the locations, or perhaps will help direct them to pinpoint the locations on their own maps. Made up of personal memoir, history, and geology, this is an interesting read that gives you a glimpse of the city through its inhabitants' eyes both past and present. A great read for London lovers and history enthusiasts alike.

Pick up a copy:
Bookshop
Foyles
Waterstones

Scott-Land: The Man Who Invented A Nation, Stuart Kelly

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

This interesting book looks at the life of Walter Scott, his impact on the prevailing image of Scotland, and Kelly’s own relationship with ‘the Great Unknown’. This is not straightforward literary biography, but instead something more difficult to define. He guides us through the rise of Scott’s popularity and descent into derision and obscurity. His legacy naturally gets a lot of attention, and readers, whether familiar with Scott’s novels or not, will leave with a greater understanding and fascination with this eccentric author whose work provides us with so many of our ideas of Scottish tradition and whose influence should not be forgotten.

Scott not only created a version of Scotland and Scottish history that did not exist, but also attempted to create some mystique around himself as author. ‘It is as if, in the process of converting Scotland into an imaginary place, Scott had to make himself into an imaginary author.’ For many years he continued with the ruse that he wasn’t the author of the Waverley novels, going as far as to review one of his own books negatively, and determinedly persisting with the delusion despite his identity being an open secret. Indeed, he seemed to imagine himself a different reality at several points throughout his life. When he was met with financial ruin it made no practical sense to declare bankruptcy, yet he framed this as an act of heroism. It is perhaps not surprising then that Abbotsford, the home he created, is formed of clashing and contrasting styles that somehow held together while he was living but lost its soul with his parting, leaving modern visitors with a feeling of disconnect and unease.

It is perhaps ironic that the man who did so much to build the mythos of Scotland has had such a troubled legacy himself. A bestselling author during his lifetime, hailed by the Victorians as rivalling Shakespeare (or at least their idea of him) in significance, he is now largely neglected except for the most devoted of fans. Even his memorial in Edinburgh, the largest to an author in the world, was plagued with problems from the start, with the untimely death of the architect years before its completion, and an unfortunate material choice that meant it looked time worn when new.

His impact on Scottish tradition was helped along in no small part by royalty. His co-ordination of George IV’s visit to Edinburgh popularised a new, false sense of tradition that was derided at the time yet remains firmly in place today. Queen Victoria and Prince Albert also enthusiastically adopted his vision of Scotland in their time at Balmoral, from the design of the building to their patronage of the highland games and penchant for tartan.

Scott’s name will live on in street names, railway stations, and schools, and in this entertaining book Kelly takes us on a journey with one who went in search of the man behind the name. The character that emerges is one of contradiction, a nationalist unionist, a great yet shallow writer, forgotten yet commemorated across Scotland. Kelly does not shy away from Scott’s failings yet offers a compelling case for getting to know ‘the Great Unknown’.

Pick up a copy:

Bookshop

Foyles

Waterstones

A Young Lady’s Miscellany, Auriel Roe

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

This memoir follows Roe from her teenage years through to a burgeoning career and early motherhood. It takes her from Cumbria, South Wales, Devon, and even Amsterdam, as she seeks to find her place in the world. The blurb suggests her misadventures largely arise from following the advice of a Victorian self-help book by the same name. This doesn’t turn out to be the case however - an odd paragraph here and there mentions it but mostly in reflecting on the time from a distance rather than it ever having been used as a guide. Despite not being quite what I expected, it was still an enjoyable, relatable read, written in an engaging style. 

Her family naturally feature heavily. Her two grandmothers receive the most detailed descriptions at the start, highlighting how greatly they contrast, and how the period in which they were born (late Victorian and Edwardian respectively) shaped who they were. Her memories will likely evoke nostalgia for childhood interactions with grandparents, but she also highlights regrets at not having taken the opportunity to get to know them better, to learn from them. Her descriptions of their actions and habits make the reader consider how unique the experience each generations has is, and the ways in which this can build barriers if time isn’t given for understanding. 

Her grandmother Manda and Manda's husband Wiff seem the most welcoming of the family. Her father is largely neglectful and always puts his own concerns ahead of his offspring. Her mother spent years in an unhappy marriage but shows great strength in trying to build a life for the two of them when she finally leaves. Her mother’s brother, who remains in the family home, terrorising their elderly mother, is selfish and literally pushes them out when they come to stay, encroaching on his territory. The disruptions in family life means she frequently has to change school, at times just as she is beginning to settle in and excel. One school is so badly run and contains such unpleasant students that she rarely attends, a fact that goes unnoticed by both the school and her mother.

Her romantic life also stalls many times, with her early attempts at intimacy leaving her cold and believing its only purpose to be procreation. She unwittingly falls into relationships, and at other times finds herself changing her style completely to match that of someone who has caught her eye. She is brutally honest throughout, both about her own shortcomings and of those around her.

Nothing particularly extraordinary happens in this memoir yet perhaps this is why it’s so easy to read, it all feels relatable and reminiscent of many a young person’s experiences. In guiding us through her own coming of age Roe discusses family dynamics, issues of class, travel, love, and learning to accept yourself. It will have you chuckling to yourself and nodding in recognition.

Self Contained: Scenes From A Single Life, Emma John

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

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

In this brutally honest memoir Emma John explores the positives and negatives of living a single life and the challenges of maintaining friendships as people throw themselves into their growing families. It is a meditation on independence and a challenge to the long accepted view that we aren’t complete until we find our soulmate. She does not hold back on her sometimes less complementary feelings, making this a book that I think everyone can relate to in one way or another.

Her relationship with her sister is central, their great affection for each other apparent at every turn, yet she admits to worrying about being left behind, of losing her place as the one her sister would always turn to. The news of an imminent addition to the family also throws her into a spin. She admits to these struggles, but doesn’t run away from the situations, resulting in a much happier outcome than she’d imagined. John raises an interesting idea, that when friends and family get married or have children, her life and role in theirs change without her consent. This can lead to feelings of helplessness and lack of control. She logically understands the shifts but struggles to resist feelings of rejection, of being pushed further out of the circle of loved ones.

Despite these feelings she also admits her own reluctance to engage with some aspects of her friends' lives. She’s never, for example, seen the fascination of babies and doesn’t hide this from the new parents she knows. In her desire for friendships to stay the same she inadvertently puts up barriers. She’s frequently self-deprecating and her honesty is raw, but she seems not to notice her devotion to her friends, stepping up when they’re in need and doing what she can to look after them.

There’s a definite feeling that her life lacks the markers of progress that those around her are hitting and this causes a feeling of stagnation. She tries throwing herself into work but hates knowing when everyone goes home they’re no longer thinking of her, believes that she isn’t the first person anyone would turn to. It’s when she begins to shift her focus from external forms of validation, stops thinking of herself as waiting for her future to begin and follows what makes her happy in the here and now, that she seems to really find her feet. The closing chapters touch on her experience of lockdown and the pandemic more generally, the absence of loneliness and the realisation that she has a solid support network who rely on her too.

This is a brilliant, thought-provoking book that will make you consider the way value is perceived in a life. It is about single life and how this interacts with shifting family dynamics, friendships that stand the test of time, and ultimately learning to accept yourself, setting your own priorities, and living for the present.

Pick up a copy:
Bookshop
Foyles
Waterstones

Love and Care, Shaun Deeney

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

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

Deeney has a habit of running away when things get tough. When his long-term relationship breaks down he takes himself off to France to live the life of a secluded artist. When his mother is moved into a care home and his father’s health deteriorates he realises it might be time to go home and face up to the realities of his family life. He soon makes the decision to have his mother discharged and to look after her full time himself. What follows is a moving account of care with all the pressures and pleasures laid out clearly, with a sense of humour but with a sincerity that makes this a thoughtful read. 

It opens with an emotional punch - him taking his mother to the care home and the feeling of betrayal it instils, leaving her there when she wants to go home, not knowing if she understands what’s happening and why. It highlights the vulnerability and loss of control for those who require constant care and will strike a chord with anyone who’s ever had to make a similarly challenging decision. He promises her he’ll take her home one day, with no idea that it will turn out to be true.

Family relationships had been strained for many years with his father increasingly difficult to be around. He took his frustrations out on his family, but especially his wife, and acted as a gatekeeper, making it difficult for loved ones to see her, or for carers to be able to help. When he dies Deeney admits to feeling elated rather than grief, pleased that he'll be free to take care of his mum. It’s clear that his father has cast a dark shadow over the family, with Deeney particularly butting heads with him repeatedly. In spending more time thinking about their family history he is forced to admit his parents really did love each other, for better or worse, and that there’s a lot of good memories buried beneath the bad.

His decision to become a full time career also reveals the reality of the care system (they continue to have carers visiting several times a day). There is a reluctance from the care home and social services initially, partly because it is so rare, there are concerns over the cost (which evaporate when it’s made clear he intends to be entirely self-funded), and additional suspicion because of his gender. The book highlights the gender imbalance in care work, Deeney commenting that his life became almost entirely composed of women. There’s also discussion that for her son and brother she’d only ever been viewed through the prism of caregiver, that her own personality had been obscured. Despite fears that it might be too late, Deeney searches for who his mother really was.

Despite the heavy topic of the book, Deeney writes with a light touch, adding humour, and at times poking fun at his own naivety going in. Before his mum comes home he plans to start dating and has a strong sense that his life should continue, that one life shouldn’t be sacrificed for the preservation of another. There are challenges that he had not anticipated but he works intuitively, trying to make decisions based on what he would want if the roles were reversed. He in no way diminishes the reality of living with dementia, but can also find glimmers of hope within.

More often, as far as I can tell, her thoughts - far from being tethered to the past - are a rich mix of imagination and the world around her, creating a very layered reality, so much more complex than mine, and somehow more real and less conscious at the same time. Often she puts me in mind if a wild animal, tame and trusting enough to allow me to feed her, but all instinct, pure and even beautiful.

I am tempted to say that it feels to me sometimes that in fact Mum lives in a kind of eternal present, which might seem to make her a prisoner of the moment, and so to our minds diminished in some way. And yet I envy her that unfettered interaction with the world. Most of us fritter our lives away with plans for the future and regrets over the past, undermining the whole notion of living in the present that is central to so many enlightened philosophies.

In caring for his mum he re-evaluates life, meditating on some quite philosophical questions and growing as a person.

This is a brilliant, emotive read that will make you want to hold your loved ones close. It forces consideration of some challenging topics yet manages not to feel too heavy. The writing style is conversational and candid, accepting that mistakes were made but learnt from, and advocating for a less adversarial approach from some professionals. He highlights how dire the situation can be without someone in your corner and appreciates the great compassion and dedication evident in the carers that help him in his journey. 

Pick up a copy:

Bookshop

Foyles

Waterstones

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

This post contains affiliate links. If you click through and buy I will receive a percentage commission at no extra cost to you.

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.

Pick up a copy:
Bookshop
Foyles
Waterstones