American War, Omar El Akkad

It’s late in the twenty-first century and America is once again in the throes of civil war. It has been wracked by climate change and the free Southern States have refused to give up fossil fuel. The Chestnut family live in a metal shack in a wasteland, terrified of the ever closening war. Benjamin, the father, is killed in a suicide bombing while attempting to organise a way for his family to move to the North. Martina and her three children; Dana, Sarat, and Simon, are forced to move to Camp Patience, a sprawling refugee camp that will be their home for years to come. The book goes on to show the irreversible damage war does to the Chestnut family.

Sarat is the main focus of the text. Tall, tough, and trusting, we see the war gradually break the innocent trust and curiosity she held at the opening. She is radicalized and tortured and commits acts of terrorism that the reader may struggle to reconcile with their desire for a happy ending and admirable protagonist. El Akkad has said that his aim was not to create a likeable or even a sympathetic character in Sarat but for the reader to understand how she came to be the person she becomes. In this he certainly succeeds, and although her actions are at time shocking it feels difficult to entirely condemn her.

Camp Patience has all the hallmarks of the refugee camps we are familiar with hearing about, yet being thrown into the day to day, knowing the characters are there for years, brings home the realities of displacement in war-torn countries, that the struggle continues long after the cameras have gone. El Akkad based the experiences in the novel deeply in fact, both from his time as a journalist and in research for the novel. This is also true of Sugarloaf, the detention centre where atrocious tortures are doled out. Again, he has made nothing up, and the reader knows this, making it all the more harrowing.

With the current problems in America it is easy to read this as a cautionary tale, and yet it was written before Trump announced his intention to run for President. Instead it is concerned with the past and the present and bringing atrocities that people turn a blind eye to into such close proximity that they can’t be ignored. A difficult read that rings true on many levels.

The Sport of Kings, C. E. Morgan

C. E. Morgan’s epic is ostensibly about horse racing, but don’t let this put you off if it’s not something that appeals – it’s a multi-faceted beast which deals with racism and womanhood as well as a plethora of other hard-hitting issues. First we are introduced to the Forge family, a wealthy farm owning family that has a tendency toward tyrannical fathers. Henry hates his father John Henry and ignores his wishes for the family business, but as the novel progresses we see Henry follow in the footsteps of his father in the treatment of his own family. Next we are introduced to Allmon Shaughnessy, son of a black mother and an absentee white father. We see him struggle with the racism that is endemic around him. He is forced into illegal activity in his desperation to help his mother with her medical bills. Her condition and suffering highlights the problems within the health service of America in a truly harrowing fashion. Allmon ends up in prison and it is this which eventually gives him the skills to gain a job at Forge Run Farm, an establishment we are told one of his ancestors was a slave at. The interconnectedness is painful, but Allmon is determined to be the one with the power in the future. He hadn’t reckoned on Henry’s daughter Henrietta however, a strong-willed, intelligent woman who participates in a seemingly endless string of one-night stands and holds within her the possibility of happiness but also destruction.

She is an intriguing character. Her mother left when she was still a child, confiding that men always want something from you, but believing her new love was different. Their relationship fizzles to almost non-existent and she is left at the mercy of her father. He exposes her to activities not suitable for her tender age, and we see his father’s obsession with continuing and strengthening the family name manifest itself in an even more sinister form with his daughter.

Allmon’s life is difficult from the start. He and his mother are rejected by their local community because of his having a white father, but he is subjected to all the prejudices of the police as if he didn’t. His arrival at Forge Run Farm could prove his saving grace, but Henry is unlikely to make it easy for him.

The juxtaposition of these two characters, with such different upbringings but both trapped within a world in which they have very little control, both finding their own way to fight against these restraints form the crux of the novel and lead us into its eventual climax.

A verbose, complex novel that hops around in time and voice. Oddly addictive, this heart-wrenching novel is a wonderful read and definitely worth persevering with.

The Woman in White, Charing Cross Theatre, 4th February 2018

Andrew Lloyd Webber’s 2004 flop has been reinvigorated in Thom Southland’s revival at the Charing Cross Theatre. Condensed from its original three-hour length and with a set design more evocative of the nineteenth century from which the story was born, it is a pleasant evening at the theatre but has lost the intensity of Wilkie Collins’ novel on which it is based.

The action revolves around a trio of women – Laura Fairlie, Marian Halcombe, her elder half-sister, and the mysterious woman in white. Percival Glyde and Count Fosco work together to trap Laura and gain her fortune. Laura is encouraged into marriage with Glyde despite her love of the drawing tutor Walter Hartwright. A mystery unravels before us as they try to save Laura and discover the secret of the woman in white. Glyde portrays none of the charm apparent in the novel, instead being harsh and abusive almost instantly. His accomplice, Count Fosco, is not as sinister as the original and indeed provides comic relief in Act Two with his rendition of You Can Get Away With Anything, skillfully delivered by Greg Castiglioni. 

The performers are at the top of their game, seemingly breezing through the more challenging vocal elements. I felt. However, that I was constantly waiting for a signature Lloyd Webber showstopper that never quite materialized. There were familiar strains in some of the songs but they were overall forgettable, however skillfully delivered.

The costume and set design are again not to be faulted, making the most of a small performance space and successfully transporting the audience through the scenes with minimal set changes. The production overall seems to have lost the mysterious, disturbing heart that makes the novel such a joy to read. The characters and plot are subdued to feel more like a saccharine period drama. An inoffensive, well performed piece of musical theatre that is unlikely to inspire many repeat viewings.

Cinderella, Sadler’s Wells, London, 21st January 2018

The return of Matthew Bourne’s retelling of Cinderella has been met with great enthusiasm and a sold out run. Rightly so – his decision to set it during the London Blitz adds an extra level of depth and real emotion. The set is wonderfully evocative of wartime London, the colour palette dreary, the costumes full of the elegance of the age. Prokofiev’s famous score is interspersed with air attack sirens and the sound of bombs falling. It seamlessly fits into its new setting, perhaps reflecting the influence of the time of its creation on the composer. The final act, in a traditional ballet a glittering celebration, is instead subdued – the couple are reunited in a convalescence home and their wedding is transplanted to a railway station amid the reunion of couples and separation of others as more soldiers head to war. It is an appropriately understated affair that is nonetheless heartening.

The ball scene is a triumph. It opens heartwrenchingly on an already bombed Café du Paris, bodies litter the floor, the glamour of the place stripped away in its rubble. The Angel (our Fairy Godmother equivalent) appears and the destruction reverses, the simple beauty of a wartime dance brought to life. The reminder of how fleeting life became weighs heavily as the revelers reanimate. Cinderella makes her entrance in a flowing white ballgown, the envy of all, and dances the night away before heading to bed with her newfound love. This feels very modern compared to the more innocent traditional tellings and highlights the awareness of the ephemerality of love in such uncertain times.

Cinderella’s transformation from a downtrodden, ordinary young woman to an elegant blonde bombshell is beautifully realised but her return to normality and the fact of her husband’s war damage gives a sense of reality to the story. The Angel, in his shiny silver suit, dances with ethereal lightness, a pleasure to watch.

An utter triumph of a retelling that fits so neatly with such a well-known tale. If you want a more grown-up version then this historic version is not one to miss. Sold out for the rest of its run at Sadler’s Wells, it is worth travelling to catch it on its tour of the UK.

Winnie-the-Pooh: Exploring a Classic, V&A

The V&A has opened its doors to one of our most beloved bears, and visitors can now get a glimpse of the Hundred Acre Woods as they step into this enchanting exhibition. The space has been beautifully decorated with blown-up versions of Shepard’s famous illustrations. You can step through the door of Owl’s home, cross Poohsticks Bridge, and cosy up in a tree trunk to listen to a story. It’s an incredibly child-friendly display but it is a wonderful outing for adults as well, demonstrating the timeless appeal of Milne’s characters.

You are first greeted by a display showcasing how far-reaching merchandising for Winnie the Pooh has gone. From exercise books to dress, music to a tea set owned by Queen Elizabeth from her childhood, there’s no escaping the popularity of Winnie and friends. The exhibition focuses mainly on the original artwork but does acknowledge Disney’s rebranding in 1966 and the now familiar look they created.

The exhibition is a veritable treasure trove of delights. There are photos of Milne with Christopher Robin and Edward bear (though Shepard in reality based his drawings on his own son’s teddy, Growler). There are original manuscripts and correspondence between Milne and Shepard as well as sketchbooks that show how much work went into creating this iconic world. The main bulk of the items on display are original drawings by Shepard, and it is clear what a symbiotic partnership it became – there’s even an example of Milne adding an extra scene to incorporate one of the drawings.

All in all a gem of an exhibition that is bound to banish the January blues. It is open at the V&A until 8^th April. 

The Book of Dust: La Belle Sauvage, Philip Pullman

Pullman’s greatly anticipated return to the world of His Dark Materials hit shelves late last year. The story is set a decade before Northern Lights and focuses on Malcolm Polstead, an intelligent and inquisitive child. He lives and works in his parents’ inn, the Trout, and is friendly with the nuns at Godstow Priory, just across the water. The nuns take in a baby named Lyra under a certain amount of secrecy and Malcolm soon finds himself attached to his young neighbour. His innocent life is shaken up when he sees a stranger lose an acorn and then be confronted by a group of threatening looking men. This leads our young protagonist into a world of intrigue, spies, and alethiometers.

There’s also the problem of Gerard Bonneville, a seemingly friendly man whose three-legged hyena daemon shows his true, dark nature. A scientist and pedophile, he is even witnessed attacking his own daemon, an action that is practically unheard of. When the flood comes and the Priory is badly damaged, Malcolm attempts to take Lyra to safety on his trusty canoe, La Belle Sauvage, with the help of Alice – a churlish employee of the Trout. In their attempt to return Lyra to her father in London they are hounded ruthlessly by Bonneville who wants her for far more sinister purposes. They also have to try to avoid the Consistorial Court of Discipline, but it is Bonneville who is relentless in following them. He becomes an eerie, much-feared figure who the reader will feel great distaste for.

There is a real sense of claustrophobia and distrust in the early parts of the novel with the League of St Alexander giving children power over their elders by reporting them for not toeing the line. As Malcolm comes to understand the complexity of the world around him you feel all the uncertainty with him, never quite sure of whose intentions are honourable. During the flood, although some of the situations occasionally feel a tad far-fetched, the desperation and suffering is vividly written, bringing the struggles that the children face to life. It is all too easy to forget how young they are.

With Pullman’s latest offering you feel you are in safe hands with this experienced and masterful storyteller. Whether you’re a Dark Materials superfan, a general reader, or new to this fictional world, you’re bound to enjoy this thrilling adventure tale with the bigger philosophical and theological preoccupations woven throughout.

The Cosy Christmas Chocolate Shop, Caroline Roberts

Set in a small village by the sea, we follow chocolatier Emma through a year of trying to make ends meet and build the courage to love again. By the second chapter it is Boxing Day and she has already been kissed by a stranger whilst out walking her dog. The mysterious man plays on her mind but her focus has to be on increasing income to help her cover the recent rent increase her landlord has imposed. With the help of her chirpy assistant Holly, and other loves ones, she has grand plans for her cosy chocolate shop.

In all honesty, I almost gave up on this book very early on. It is not well written and I struggled to see past this. I persevered however and at times got caught up in the story. There were moments that made me cringe they were so difficult to read, but even if you don’t end up entirely attached to the characters the descriptions of the shop itself do evoke feelings of warmth and comfort (and make you crave chocolate…). There is some attempt to add some intrigue with the constant referencing of Emma’s previous partner Luke, but no explanation of what happened between them. It was no great revelation when it was finally revealed, and the avoidance of explaining earlier became somewhat frustrating when it felt so obvious.

The to-ing and fro-ing with her love interest Max can feel a little abrupt occasionally but you do root for them, especially when things seem about to fall apart for good at the end. Her pain feels real however, and her reluctance to open her heart to new love is genuine.

The host of characters is likeable and if you’re looking for an easy feel-good read over the festive season then this will provide you with all the expected tropes, though I’m sure there are books that would fill you with Christmas joy with more polished writing.

Harry Potter: A History of Magic, British Library

As soon as you step into the exhibition space you know you’re in for a treat – books hang from the ceiling, the walls are decorated to look like you’re in Hogwarts, and before you’ve even got your bearings you’ve already seen the synopsis J K Rowling sent out to prospective publishers and the note from the publisher’s daughter giving it a glowing review. The British Library have clearly put a lot of effort into getting the aesthetics right. Each room focuses on a specific subject that Harry and his friends study, and the décor fits beautifully – a large celestial globe with pricks of light on dark material above, a Divination room that makes you feel as though you are in Trelawney’s classroom, and a Herbology area draped with fake plants. These touches help transport the visitor to the world of magic.

The content itself is carefully balanced between historic artefacts and books, and items from Rowling’s personal collection that no fan will want to miss. The vast sixteenth century Ripley Scroll shows you how to make your very own Philosopher’s Stone, a 3000 year old cauldron takes pride of place in Potions, and Nicolas Flamel’s gravestone is tucked unassumingly into a corner. Sadly this is accompanied by a note that will disillusion anyone under the impression that he really was an alchemist.

The glut of Jim Kay artworks on display are quite something to behold, seeing the originals a special experience. We’re also treated to early drafts of scenes from the books, and annotated manuscripts. There’s even some hand-drawn pictures by Rowling from the early days when she wanted to be able to see the world she was creating. Last but not least comes an impressive chart over multiple pages of her plotting for The Order of the Phoenix. Knowing that she had all seven books planned before Philosopher’s Stone made it to bookshelves is mind-blowing.

I cannot recommend this exhibition highly enough. Well thought out and beautifully achieved, you’ll find real treasures within, and a couple of interactive opportunities that adults and children alike will enjoy. Running until 28^th February, if you love Harry Potter you need to get a ticket. For more details, visit the British Library's website. 

A Secret Sisterhood: The hidden friendships of Austen, Brontë, Eliot and Woolf - Emily Midorikawa and Emma Claire Sweeney

Emily Midorikawa and Emma Claire Sweeney delve into the archives to explore the literary friendships of four of our most beloved female authors. They believe that female literary friendships are greatly under-researched, especially when compared to the fame of many of the male equivalents. What becomes apparent throughout however, is that this is often due, in part at least, to a lack of evidence, often the result of deliberate actions of the custodians of their memories. 

This is certainly true of the first of their examples: Jane Austen and Anne Sharp, for which they explain ‘Jane’s family actively whitewashed the friendship from the official version of her life’. This results in a heavy reliance on Austen’s niece, Fanny, who Annie was employed to teach as a governess. It is the snippets and passing comments in her diaries that form the basis of this section. It often feels as though we are merely being told about their two separate lives with a few nods to interactions between them. This is natural from friends who were separated so frequently and whose letters no longer exist for the most part.

Charlotte Brontë and Mary Taylor’s friendship, which started at school and lasted through their lives, also relied heavily on the exchange of letters as Taylor spent a number of years living in New Zealand. A radical, independent woman, Taylor provided Charlotte with intellectual stimulation and challenged her to be more overtly political in her writing. Their closeness naturally ebbed due to the time in which it took their letters to reach each other, but the opinion of Taylor remained important to the end.  After Taylor’s disappointment at Gaskell’s biography of her long term friend she was not overly eager to help other biographers, meaning that it was their kinder childhood friend, Ellen Nussey, who had more control over how Charlotte was remembered.

George Eliot and Harriet Beecher Stowe’s friendship also had to contend with the challenges of overseas friendship. Indeed, they never met in person, but remained important figures in each other’s lives, offering criticism and advice, and avoiding topics from their personal lives that would have caused contention. They weren’t without their fallings out however, especially in times of deep sadness for Eliot, when Stowe was unable to provide the support she needed.

Virginia Woolf and Katherine Mansfield are somewhat unique in this group in that they enjoyed a similar level of success. History has not forgotten their association but rather twisted it into a bitter rivalry, missing the connection they shared. This was exacerbated by their membership of the Bloomsbury and Garsington groups which encouraged snide comment. Midorikawa and Sweeney don’t deny that they were envious of each other’s talent and openly cutting of their work, but also highlight the importance of the helpful criticism they exchanged and the way in which Mansfield encourage Woolf to explore new forms of the novel after the War.

An interesting and unusual book, they shed light on the importance of female literary friendship, shattering the idea of the solitary female author and challenging misconceptions passed down through history. You will notice similarities between the four friendships, the challenges they faced, and ultimately the value they placed on their literary friends. A great insight into the lives of these most famous authors. 

Delirium, Lauren Oliver

Delirium is set in a dystopian world in which love is considered a disease, conversations are monitored, and the only music available is that approved by the authorities. Our narrator, Lena, is a few months off her eighteenth birthday and having the procedure that will ‘cure’ her from ever feeling love. If the reader wasn’t already feeling distinctly uncomfortable with this world it is worsened when she goes for her evaluation where she must stand, essentially naked, in front of a group of assessors, answering questions that will ultimately decide her future – who she will marry and what social class she will be. She knows that her best friend Hana will be given higher status and they will inevitably grow apart  but is reassured that after the cure the memories will fade and she will not miss her. The cure does not only kill romantic love but familial love and passion for hobbies, it turns your life into a dull yet contented existence devoid of any real emotion.

Lena is horrified when she realises Hana is becoming rebellious – listening to illegal music and attending underground raves. Lena has always been so worried of falling into the same traps as her mum, who she is told committed suicide because of love. The flashbacks we witness reveal a happy childhood with a parent who secretly played them music and danced with her children – one perfectly normal to readers but dangerous in their world. Everything changes when Lena predictably falls in love and even braves a trip to the Wilds – the land beyond the border where the uncured and Sympathisers live. She gradually begins to realise the joy of beauty in the world, of feeling deeply, and her eyes are opened to the lies she has been fed for so many years.

We watch as she struggles with these revelations and begins to dread her fast approaching procedure, a day she has long looked forward to. As she falls deeper in love with Alex she becomes desperate to find a way for them to remain together, taking more and more risks, the authorities closing in on them, their world seeming increasingly hostile.

It took me a little while to adjust to the writing style as it’s been some time since my last YA reading, but it is a well-constructed book, the reader finding out more about the world with Lena. Each chapter is headed with propaganda, some even manipulating the Bible to fit the beliefs of the authorities. It is hard to watch as Lena comes to realise how thoroughly she is trapped in this dystopian world. The love story is sweet enough, and believable, and it is moving to read Alex wrestling with the decision to tell Lena information that will shatter the world that she thinks she knows. There is enough in here that you care for the characters and root for their success. I won’t be reading the rest of the series, but that probably says more about my reading habits than the quality of the book.

The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Muriel Barbery

Barbery’s critically acclaimed novel focuses on the residents of 7 Rue de Grenelle in Paris, specifically twelve year old Paloma Josse, daughter of wealthy parents, and Renée Michel, concierge for the apartment block. Paloma’s narrative sections are labeled as ‘Profound Thoughts’. Her first section is deeply philosophical and it is startling when you realise it is a child speaking. She has decided to commit suicide on her thirteenth birthday and to burn down the apartment. She aims to have and record as many profound thoughts before this time as possible. She plays down her intelligence at school, fearing she would get no peace if she showed her true capabilities. In this she has something in common with Renée who hides her love of great literature and classical music to maintain the façade of what she believes people expect from a concierge.

Both characters are fairly isolated in their own ways. Although Paloma lives with her parents and sister she does not feel part of their world, considering their concerns superficial and shallow. Renée has lived alone since the death of her husband, and in her refusal to show her true self is alone in her interests. She does have one friend, Manuela, who works in the same block as a cleaner but who hopes to leave France, much to the horror of Renée. Things begin to change when a long-term resident dies and the mysterious Kakuro Ozu moves into the vacant apartment. He sees beyond Renée's façade and extends the hand of friendship, something which she struggles to accept at first. Eventually their budding friendship leads to Paloma and Renée finding kindred spirits in each other.

It is touching to see Renée’s confidence grow and with it her happiness, though it takes sharing some upsetting memories with Paloma before she is able to see that all she has believed for many years may not be entirely true. These revelations are an important moment for understanding her character and the reasons behind her forced solitude. It is also heartening to see Paloma blossom with her new friends, beginning to see the world in a difference light and questioning her resolve to cut her life so short.

An interesting, unusual book which will challenge the mind, make you smile, and at times frustrate. In parts beautifully poetic, clearly borne of deep knowledge, it will toy with your emotions until the end.

Opera: Passion, Power and Politics. V&A, London

The exhibition chosen to open the new Sainsbury Gallery at the V&A may not be the obvious choice, but when you step into this immersive exhibition you understand the great potential of the space. It takes you through centuries of opera by focusing in on specific productions and the cities in which they were premiered, fitting the art form into its wider historical context and demonstrating that it is not just a product of the time, but also a catalyst for change.

We begin in seventeenth century Venice with Monteverdi’s L’Incoronazione di Poppea and end with Shostakovich’s Lady Macbeth in Mtensk in Leningrad and the impact of Stalinist suppression, stopping along the way in decadent Paris and battle-torn Milan. Each section has a distinct look to it that sets the location and feel of the subject. In Handel’s London we are treated to a working replica of a Baroque stage, in Milan there are signs of war but also a display by Matthias Schaller of 150 of Italy’s opera houses, reminding us just what an integral role opera plays in their culture.

There are treasures aplenty – costume designs by Dali, a Rodin sculpture of John the Baptist’s head in the Salome section, and a Degas to name but a few. The Degas is accompanied by a caption explaining why the ballet traditionally appears in Act Three – it was the custom for male patrons to take advantage of the dancers before sauntering into the auditorium after the interval. When an opera decided to put the ballet in Act One there was outrage. Snippets such as these give a more intimate glance behind the scenes of the opera.

On entering, visitors are handed what initially appears to be an audio guide but proves to be a beautiful soundscape that automatically changes according to where you are in the exhibition. This combined with the expertly designed space leads you to feel transported through time and place as you travel through the history of opera. Even if you’re not much of an opera fan there’s plenty to get your teeth stuck into here. Quite pricey at £21 a ticket, but absolutely worth every penny.

Opera: Passion, Power and Politics is on until 25 February 2018. For more details, visit the V&A website.

In Touch, Dorfman Theatre, 14th October 2017

In Touch is a co-production of An Inclusion Theatre Company and Theatre of Nations in association with Graeae Theatre Company, National Theatre, the British Council, and Sense. The cast is made up of deafblind, blind, visually impaired, D/deaf, hard-of-hearing, sighted and hearing people sharing their stories. They are accompanied by Jenny Agutter and Yevgeny Mironov telling of the lives of Olga Skorokhodova and Professor Suvorov, pioneering deafblind academics.

We are told about the actors’ lives, experiences of blindness and deafness, and their hopes and dreams. The most heart-wrenching part for me was hearing what the last thing they remember seeing was. The show is not designed to induce pity, quite the opposite, it challenges any misconceptions that deafblind people are different, showing that they have the same hobbies, hopes and dreams as anyone else. It is saddening to realise just how hard it is for them to engage with the rest of the world with such a pitiful lack of inclusive opportunities.

The mix of spoken, signed, and physical theatre made for an eclectic, engaging show. Parts were in Russian, leaving me reliant on the surtitles. This, and the way the focus jumped around from actor to actor, from one theme and style of performance to another, gave a sense of disorientation, which I assume was intentional. This was probably the most inclusive event I’ve ever been to – there was audio description, surtitles, and live BSL interpretation. May this be an example of what can be achieved and its lead followed by other theatres.