A Corruption of Blood, Ambrose Parry

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

Dr Raven and Sarah Fisher are back and investigating the mysterious death of a baby, washed up  on the shore of the Leith with a length of white thread round its neck. Not long after witnessing this upsetting sight Raven receives the news that another acquaintance has been found dead and that the son is the prime suspect. New love for Raven forces him deeper into the mystery as he searches for an answer that might set an old adversary free.

For the most part the mysteries seem almost secondary to Raven’s complicated love life, Sarah’s crushed ambitions, and commentary on the poor position of women in Victorian Edinburgh and the ways in which they are taken advantage of. In the final handful of chapters as the truth is slowly revealed in a series of twists and revelations you are drawn into the drama however and gripped in anticipation of the next bombshell.

The position of women in society takes a central role, with Sarah battling her competing desires for love and career. She is intelligent and accomplished but constantly ignored and belittled by men unable to imagine that a woman would have any useful insight. Her confidence has been knocked in her travels to meet Dr. Blackwell, the first registered female doctor, and she questions if she should ever have hoped for a future of medical pursuit. The need to help solve the mysteries and help her friends draws her back into the world which ultimately makes her life feel fulfilled. We are reminded of the importance of marriage in a woman’s opportunities. As a widow Sarah has more status and financial freedom than she had previously, but does she have the will to resist future marriage in order to retain some of that independence? Her former life as a maid both helps and hinders her. She is able to relate to those in need, but those who know her past are often inclined to let it colour their vision of her.

Women are shown to be vulnerable, whether through the contagious diseases legislation based on the infamous real-life Contagious Diseases Act, at risk of assault in their homes and workplaces, and at the mercy of society’s view of them. It is all too easy to be forced into prostitution and to suffer the associated judgment. At the heart of the novel is an abuse of vulnerable women, and those who seek to gain from their misfortune. It is a sad tale and one that won’t have a happy ending for many.

I haven’t read the previous two novels in the series but did not feel at a loss because of it, although it’s clear that much has been missed in the relationships presented, which can largely be intuited. The book wasn’t as atmospheric as I’d perhaps expected from reviews of the first two but it was nonetheless an interesting read. The medical detail and focus on the very real issues that haunted those alive at the time make this a moving read. A slow burn but ultimately worth the time.

Little Dancer, Melanie Laschallas

Paris, 1878. Ballet dancer Marie van Goethem is chosen by the unknown artist Edgar Degas to model for his new sculpture: Little Dancer, Aged Fourteen Years.

But Marie is much more than she seems. By day she’s a ‘little rat’ of the opera, contorting her starving body to entertain the bourgeoisie. By night she’s plotting to overthrow the government and reinstate the Paris Commune, to keep a promise she made to her father, a leading communard who died in the street massacres of 1871.

As Marie watches the troubling sculpture of herself come to life in Degas’ hands, she falls further into the intoxicating world of bohemian, Impressionist Paris, a world at odds with the socialist principles she has vowed to uphold.

With the fifth Impressionist Exhibition looming, a devastating family secret is uncovered which changes everything for both Marie and Degas.

As Degas struggles to finish his sculpture and the police close in on Marie, she must decide where her loyalties lie and act to save herself, her family and the Little Dancer.

This is a fascinating, absorbing book that takes you into the struggles of many Parisians in the late nineteenth century. Marie's life is hard, and her love of the part of Les Miserables that she managed to get her hands on is a constant reminder that the lives of the poor was an issue that was hard to ignore at the time. Her time at the Paris Opera is thankless and relentless, and although nervous of Degas to begin with, she finds the time in his studio becomes a safe haven. Heartbreak over her father's fate runs through the novel alongside the struggle it brought upon her remaining family, who act like he never existed. Marie desperately wants to keep his spirit alive but at what cost? As life becomes increasingly desperate and the move toward a more violent course of action becomes more prominent, she must decide how far she is willing to go.

Marie van Goethem was the real-life model for Degas' famous Little Dancer of Fourteen Years. Her story ended without a trace. Leschallas brings her back to life in this evocative novel which doesn't hide from the gritty reality of life for those struggling to get by. 

Hotbed: Bohemian New York and the Secret Club That Sparked Modern Feminism, Joanna Scutts

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 Duckworth Books and Random Things Tours for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

In the early 1900s a group of women began meeting weekly to discuss feminism and its intersection with political and social issues of the day. The women were largely well educated and financially comfortable, and the group became known as Heterodoxy. They were aware of the narrowness of their diversity but this didn’t always mean they avoided falling in to common prejudices. There was, at times, a disconnect between understanding that what they saw as rebellion and independence wasn’t viable or desirable for women in other situations. For example, some rejected marriage, but for many in less privileged positions marriage was essential for being seen as respectable or to move away from unpleasant stereotypes. Nonetheless, they endeavoured to help in situations far removed from their own, and although sometimes there were clashes, it was clear that they had a certain amount of protection from the law that working class women and women of colour did not have, and that this could be used to the advantage of all.

Hotbed discusses the huge range of topics that Heterodoxy were interested in, from same sex relationships to workers’ rights, psychoanalysis, theatre, and the right to birth control. Many of the issues will seem uncomfortably familiar to many a modern reader. This is particularly evident in the uneven opportunities afforded to different groups, and to the difficult balance of motherhood and a fulfilling work life. The Feminist Alliance proposed a dedicated apartment complex for families where cooking, cleaning, and childcare were organised communally and undertaken by professionals. The idea was appealing to many but it soon became clear that the costs of such an endeavour were well beyond the reach of the average family. There was also pushback from external parties who believed entrusting the raising of children to professionals showed a lack of concern for the wellbeing of the child. Charlotte Perkins Gilman was adamant that many parents were not good at raising their children and that women did not have an inherent knowledge of what was best. She believed that society was failing children by leaving their upbringing to the chance of birth. The apartment complex idea was eventually scrapped due to internal disagreements, spiralling costs, and the outbreak of War in Europe. Members continued to work hard to support mothers who wished to, or indeed needed to, keep working, and eventually made some progress whereby women were to take two years (unpaid) leave. It was far from ideal, but the presence of a policy indicated that mothers belonged in the workplace, a novel idea.

The group supported the movement that grew around the Triangle Fire tragedy, whereby 146 factory workers died in a fire, the doors to escape routes locked, and internal conditions a perfect storm for the quick spread of fire. It was a horrifying tragedy that shook the population of New York. Sadly, the new factory that they moved in to afterward showed no more concern for employees’ wellbeing. At times efforts to highlight poor conditions could be thought to be in poor taste with pageants recreating the appalling positions many found themselves in, turning it into a spectacle. There was some resentment between the workers and the glamorous, wealthy activists who took up all the limelight, but they did help to mobilise and publicise issues.

Hotbed portrays a creative, intelligent group, determined to bring about change and experiment with different ways of living. Scutts doesn’t shy away from the in-fighting and contradictions however. We see how open relationships caused great strain on many members, how the sheer volume of interests involved could sometimes hamper progress, and the dismissal and condescension shown to those from different backgrounds. For women who were apparently so enlightened it can be hard to reconcile such blindness to other issues. This is a fascinating read that sheds light on many aspects of early twentieth century life and demonstrates how inequality permeated all aspects of society. 

Pick up a copy:
Bookshop
Waterstones

The White Hare, Jane Johnson

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 Head of Zeus for providing me with a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

It’s 1954 and Magda, Mila, and Janey Prusik are on their way to White Cove, their new home and future guest house. Originally from Poland, Magda and Mila moved to England during World War Two. A disastrous end to a relationship, the cause of which is only hinted at for large sections of the book, forced them out of London and to Cornwall to start a new life. It is isolated but beautiful and is full of promise in Magda’s eyes. Mila is less certain that she wants to be shut away from the world with her unloving, demanding mother, wishing she could be back with her husband. It soon becomes clear that there’s a lot of local legend that causes fear of the house, and many try to dissuade them from staying and trying to make their home hospitable. 

We are told the tale from Mila’s perspective, but it is her five year old daughter Janey, alongside her toy rabbit, that steal the show. Janey seems connected to the history of the property, of the mysterious lady so many make reference to. Rabbit also takes on new powers, communicating to Janey secrets that she wouldn’t have had any knowledge of otherwise. Mila is disconcerted when Janey begins drawing the same symbol over and over, that is also mysteriously scratched into her bedroom wall, and near the graveyard in Eglosberyan. What supernatural forces might be acting upon her daughter? The workmen they enlist to help with the renovations have accidents and are reluctant to continue work on the property. With so much superstition surrounding the place and the constant turning up of strange objects and notes, Mila begins to wonder if there is something to the legends. 

Aside from the supernatural elements, there is a strong focus on familial relationships. Magda is overbearing and seems unhappy with everything Mila does. She orders her around and terrorises the two of them when she loses her temper. The close contact that is forced upon them causes Mila to begin to dwell on her childhood, with distressing memories coming to the fore which leads their already strained relationship to falter still further. Their cold relationship is in stark contrast to that between Mila and Janey. Although living within the confines of Magda’s demands, we see a lot of love and affection between the two. Mila seems to have a much better understanding of how to nurture a child than her own mother, and she is kind and generous with her. Cowed under a domineering mother, her desire to protect Janey overrides any sense of duty. 

The local community are very present in the book. Jack Lord, a kindly but mysterious man, appears early on and forms an affinity with Janey. He is helpful but closed off, seemingly full of secret knowledge. Keziah and Ariadne, a local healer and artist, welcome them warmly, supplying cures and edible treats, but leaving Mila with a sense of unease at their unconventional lifestyle and belief in the supernatural. Casworan Martin, the local vicar, although outwardly friendly leaves her with a sense of discomfort, and when he manoeuvres himself into performing an exorcism on the house she reaches the end of her politeness. The Prusiks are positioned as outsiders, with local residents assuming they will be a certain type of Londoner without any respect for the land and customs. 

The opening of the novel is gripping and disturbing, and there’s a generally unsettling mood that hangs over it for the duration, but it doesn’t always grab your attention fully. Some of the mysteries feel easy to unpick, although far from all. The story passes at a gentle pace before ramping up in the final sections with loose ends tied together. Johnson describes the locations in vivid detail so you feel connected to the land. An intriguing novel that explores themes of family, the damage secrets can inflict, and the power of history.

Pick up a copy:
Bookshop
Waterstones

The Draw of the Sea, Wyl Menmuir

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 Aurum Press for providing me with a free copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

In this meditative memoir Menmuir explores the appeal of the sea, its danger and healing powers. In short chapters he meets an eclectic host of characters, from those who spend hours searching beaches for washed up treasure to photographers, surfers, amateur marine biologists, and free divers. His focus is largely on the coast of Cornwall and the Isles of Scilly but he also ventures as far as Svalbard. For many the sea provides a sense of peace, but its danger is never far from mind, nor the struggles of those trying to make their home in small coastal communities.

Menmuir enthusiastically (and occasionally tentatively) throws himself into the pursuits of those he meets. Beachcombing (or wrecking, as it’s known in Cornwall) becomes an absorbing pastime, but he comments on the conflict between the joy he feels at finding small pieces of plastic toys and the guilt at taking more pleasure in them than his natural finds. He is all too aware of the damage human activity is wreaking on the natural world. He meets a lobster fisherman, Jof Hicks, who goes about his work consciously and sustainably, handcrafting the lobster pots and fishing only in small quantities. When questioned on whether it’s worth the time he replies that it’s good exercise, peaceful, and time that millions of others fritter away staring at screens.

He introduces us city-dwellers to a different way of life, where families head straight to the beach for some surf time after school and where your plumber might vanish for weeks in the middle of a job on getting wind of some irresistible waves. Threats to the way of life are also highlighted with communities decimated in a wave of second homes that remain empty for the majority of the year. This, and other factors such as the profitability of short-term lets, means that many locals are being priced out of the areas they were born.

Despite the challenges and conflicts of coastal life it’s also clear that the connection to the water can be hugely beneficial for mental health. The peace and exhilaration of free-diving and the integral focus on controlling your breath turns it into an almost meditative exercise. I was also absolutely fascinated to learn about the mammalian dive reflex which allows humans to hold their breath for much longer under water than they would above the surface.

In the early days of the Covid pandemic photographers Mike Guest and Nick Pumphrey began the Dawn Days of May project, in which they took a wetsuit and camera into the sea at dawn every day of the month. It quickly became clear how grounding and calming the experience was. Enthralled by the changing nature of the waterscape and the beauty of the dawn, the project garnered a following on Instagram and inspired others to set out on similar adventures.

This is a fascinating, varied book that gives an insight into many lives and the central role the sea plays in them. You are able to easily dip in and out, never knowing quite what you’ll find in the next chapter. It certainly made me want to spend more time exploring our coastline. Special mention should also be given to the Holly Ovenden, designer of the physical book, for its entrancingly beautiful cover and endpapers that will give you a little taste of the sea wherever you’re reading.

Pick up a copy:
Bookshop
Waterstones

(M)otherhood: On the choices of being a woman, Pragya Agarwal

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

In this blend of memoir and essay, Agarwal takes a deep dive into reproductive health while exploring her own motherhood journey with great honesty. She lays out in her introduction that she is writing from personal experience and that the book will therefore not cover every scenario. Nonetheless, she reminds us of the intersectional nature of the subject throughout, detailing how various factors can lead to very different experiences and outcomes.

An overarching theme is that of stigma and control in the way female bodies are viewed and treated. She demonstrates how this is true from the first signs of menstruation through to problems with fertility and the lack of purpose ascribed to women once they are beyond their childbearing years. The discussion of control over women’s bodies and the right to access safe and legal abortion feels particularly pertinent at the moment.

A lot of research supports the writing of this book. I was especially interested to learn about the realities of ageing sperm and how the age of men impacts fertility. It is a widely held belief that for women there is a ticking clock for having a baby, but that for men it is possible to father a child at any age. Although this might technically be true, the quality decreases greatly, potentially causing health issues in the foetus and playing an important role in miscarriage. Another area I’d never thought much about is how pregnancy tests were carried out before the ones we’re so familiar with today. It turns out injecting mice and frogs with a woman’s urine was used well into the twentieth century!

Alongside these fascinating tidbits and thought-provoking discussions is the tale of Agarwal’s own journey with fertility. Her first pregnancy which almost killed her was later followed by secondary infertility, punishing rounds of IVF, and ultimately surrogacy. Amid her desperation to become a mother again she considers what it is that drives her. Looking into surrogacy opens a discussion about ethics, guilt, and the narrow definitions society uses for pregnancy and motherhood. She struggles against doubts that she’s not a real mother because she’s not able to carry her babies or breastfeed them. New motherhood also wracks her with guilt not just about her newborns but also her teenaged daughter who’s increasingly fending for herself. It is an emotional book, evoking the endless worries and conflicts of trying and becoming a parent. Her husband’s presence in the book is on the periphery, appearing to reassure her against her concerns and providing a supportive presence. We don’t see much of how the process affects him.

This is a moving, well-researched book that will make you angry at times and deeply moved at others. The focus is on the impact of a woman’s body, and society’s view of it, on her life choices, but Agarwal also touches on other subjects. Most notably, her feelings of displacement, having grown up in India but now living in the UK. Both countries simultaneously feel like home and don’t. Her feeling of otherness comes through gently to start but more forcefully as her story develops. An engrossing, informative read.

Pick up a copy:
Bookshop
Waterstones

Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert

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

We first meet Charles Bovary as a schoolboy mocked for his outlandish fashion and an unfortunate mispronunciation of his name due to nerves. His mother dotes on him, focusing her attention on him and the running of their household instead of her increasing frustration with her husband. After one short marriage he finds himself enjoying the freedoms of single life, but then he meets Emma Rouault. He is completely besotted with her and she assents to marriage, imagining her life as a newlywed will meet all of her romantic dreams. Unsurprisingly, life doesn’t quite match up to her imagination, and she embarks on a series of affairs with tragic consequences.

Emma is immature, vain, and foolish. She abuses her husband’s naivety and love for her, thrusting them into grave financial difficulties. She tries only vaguely to conceal her misdemeanours and many of their friends suspect her indiscretions. Charles is loyal and blind to the reality of his marriage. Emma resents him for his happiness while she is so disappointed in her choice of spouse. Her expectations, however, were unlikely to be met, believing that he should know everything and excel in many fields. Charles is broadly mediocre, but in her distress she misses the value of his devotion. Despite her many flaws, Emma is not an unlikable character. Indeed, her belief that everyone else is living a far more exciting, lavish life is one that many can relate to. For those who have felt the depths of darkness descend, her despair at thinking about a future of misery will be familiar, the feeling of panic and helplessness at a future she does not want is claustrophobic and intensely upsetting.

This is a book of high drama and hoped-for passion. Emma does not do emotions by half, imagining herself in a great romantic story. It also deals with the more mundane aspects of married life, so despised by Emma. Charles feels the familiar conflict between pleasing his wife and obeying his mother’s wishes. He is stuck in a difficult situation with a demanding wife who doesn’t love him (a fact he remains blissfully unaware of for the most part) and a mother jealous of the affection he has for his wife, perceiving it to be a rejection of the love she has provided. He is no great romantic hero, but he is kind and loyal. Unfortunately, his story is never destined to end well. He is somewhat reminiscent of Emily Brontë’s Edgar Linton.

Flaubert is famous for having spent years writing and re-writing Madame Bovary, obsessing over every sentence. The result is a compelling read with a dramatic conclusion. 

Pick up a copy:
Bookshop
Waterstones