Review-ish: One Night, Markovitch by Ayelet Gundar-Goshen

Translated by Sondra Silverston.

‘What they were about to see was not something you hurry towards’.

This book is another beaut of a find from a charity shop book collecting mission, which has become a regular part of weekends for me and an obsession that I’m sure will one day kill me. I also do buy new, but there is a certain satisfaction that comes from finding a gem second hand. Last weekend, I found a John Irving that I had never heard of, in the same style of book covers that I have been collecting, lurking in the second hand book shop in the arcade in Cardiff. Reader, it is a compulsion. 

I have never really read anything about Israel before, in particular how the second World War effected events, so this was refreshing and informative. The experience of reading this has really confirmed to me how much I enjoy reading fictionalised history. 

I’ve been a fan of magical realism since falling in love with Louis de Bernieres and Gabriel Garcia Marquez, but this time it was really interesting to read magical realism where the evocative background is Israel, rather than the South America or Europe. There is historical realism there, certainly, but it isn’t held to ransom by it. It provides some context rather than driving the narrative. And it did make me more aware of how Israel was formed and the effect that the second World War had on it and its people.

It is truly, bloody lovely. Even with my fairly rubbish imagination, I could see the homes in the kibbutz and had really vivid images in my mind of the characters. 

Although the main bulk of the story is about the eponymous Markovich, and that story is beguiling, it is the journey of Zeev Feinberg that really drew me in, and has stuck with me since. How the other characters respond to Zeev and his impulses are fascinating. The various other characters are just fantastic, in particular, the Deputy Commander of the Irgun. Little moments like how many children get named after him, are just wonderful.

The last third of the book, where the narrative focused on the children, felt a little less well-developed,  event though I enjoyed the more exciting parts of that narrative. The build-up was perhaps just a little too long. But the ending was beautiful wrought. I quite often HATE endings if I have loved the book, I never find them satisfying, but this ending felt right and did justice to the rest of the book. 

Reviewers on Goodreads have RAVED about her next two novels, some saying that this one is weaker in comparison so I will definitely be keeping an eye out for them.

Happy reading!

Kelly

Review-ish: The Assassins Quest by Robin Hobb (#3 in the Farseer Trilogy)

‘Sometimes a man doesn’t know how badly he’s hurt until someone else probes the wound.’

I’m basically just going to rhapsodise about this so please bear with me.

I have been recommending this trilogy to ANYone who will listen. It really is just perfectly constructed fantasy. I’m going to throw it out there, and I’m ready to bear the wrath, but I prefer it to the Game of Thrones books. Here’s why (and then I promise, I’ll actually talk about this particular book!):

–          The violence isn’t gratuitous

–          ALL of the characters are nuanced and are capable of growth

–          The magic is hard-won and not taken lightly

A huge amount happens in this final book of the trilogy. Its not so much a culmination of action, as the previous 2 books had plenty of that, but it does take us through what feels like the final part of this particular journey for Fitz. These books are huge. Finger-achingly and crampingly huge. But its all so necessary for the feeling that you get at the end. The big sigh. Questions are answered, some further questions are raised, but overall the narrative is extremely satisfying. 

As a central character, Fitz is more than worthy, offering us fist-bump opportunities as well as moments where we want to give him a good shake. The new characters that are introduced are fantastic (Starling and Kettle in particular) and the more familiar characters just grow and develop in sometimes quite unexpected ways. I won’t go too much further into the characters or plot, as if you haven’t already been sold by my review of #2, then this barely-a-review isn’t going to change your mind. And I’d rather that anyone who is interested, doesn’t have anything spoiled by me. Make sense? 

Its a testament to Hobb’s exceptional writing that upon finishing the Farseer Trilogy, the lad-at-home and I have sought out and started the next trilogy (The Liveship Traders) and have the following trilogy lined up (The Tawny Man Trilogy) so if I can keep up this sham of a review-site, you’re going to get a lot of Robin Hobb content. We also very nearly started a conversation with an unsuspecting woman on a beach in Portugal who was peacefully reading Robin Hobb unaware that we were excitedly whispering about confronting a fellow Hobb-nob and making her our friend.  Reader, we did not ruin that poor persons day, don’t worry.

I have been reading A LOT recently so the ol’ review back-log is significant at the moment. But the nights are drawing in, the leaves are falling and my favourite time of year commences so I WILL be getting my reviews in order.

Whats everyone reading at the moment? Does anyone read seasonally?? Im intruiged.

Kelly

Review-ish: The Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami

Translated by Philip Gabriel.

‘The truth sometimes reminds me of city buried in sand. As time passes, the same piles up even thicker, and occasionally it’s blown away and what’s below is revealed.’

Sometimes, I really wish that I had read Murakami’s work in the order they were written, as I think I’d find it so fascinating. But alas, I read Norweigan Wood as a teenager and came to his others as I found them in libraries, charity shops or second-hand book shops. This is the most similar to Norwegian Wood that I have read so far. It lacks the totally nutty magic of Hard-Boiled Egg and Kafka on the Shore. But it’s still a very charming read.

I was convinced that I had found this book slow, but according to my notes, I was absolutely gripped by it! In this way, I think its an easier read than his more fantastical books, but it didn’t haunt me for weeks afterwards in the way The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle did. 

It felt like a meditation on the internal workings of someone’s mind. How easily it can be misled. A gentle story, really about one man, Tsukuru Tazaki, as he tries to reconcile his past with his present. I liked the slowness of it, which I think is  reflected its singular focus. I enjoyed how every moment was described in great detail, like his time at the lake. Murakami’s work is very evocative, but it was surprisingly enjoyable to feel this in stillness rather than action.

It offers a really interesting reflection on loneliness and isolation, comparing emptiness or unease in our own skin to physical or emotional colourlessness. Of feeling like you are the one that lacks personality when surrounded by bolder, more colourful people. And how reality can be very different to your own perception.

The language is more accessible than some of his other novels, but the lack of drama might put some readers off. I found his lyrical descriptions of music, particularly noticeable in this book, really beautiful and moving.

The characters, similar to in Norwegian Wood, are a little bit bleak, a little bit morose. But realistic, reflecting a different side to humanity. And as always, Murakami can create a fully-formed and 3D character in a few words. But he always allows you a deep-dive into his main characters sub-conscious.

There’s other Murakami books I might recommend first, depending on your interests, but if anyone is reading them in order, I’d love to hear about it!

Kelly

Review-ish: Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker

”Silence becomes a woman’. Every women I’ve ever known was brought up on that saying.’

I’ve been aware of Pat Barker’s writing for years, having read her work in college (Regeneration I think) when studying First World War literature. But to be honest, I haven’t picked up anything of her since then. Until one of our Book Club members mentioned that she had, like Madeline Miller, been re-writing the Greek classics from a female perspective.

I brought this beautiful copy at Hay Festival where she was a speaker this year. I would have loved to have heard her speak and its given me the drive to take some time next year so get over to Hay more.

In all honesty, I read this a while a go now (I’m playing catch up on reviews) but the word one that sticks out still when I think of it is ‘brutal’. There’s much more blood, violence and brutality than Circe but then it follows the those affected by the Trojan War, rather than the squabbling of the Gods. There were moments that were hard to read.

It has made me consider trigger warnings. On Goodreads, many people asked about the incident of sexual assault in Circe, but other than questioning whether Silence of the Girls is appropriate for younger readers, there was a lot less discussion about trigger warnings, despite the fact that this novel contains many more incidents. I’d be really interested in discussing whether trigger warnings are necessary/important on novels further.

The title is powerful. Their silence is their strength. These women who are pawns, slaves and playthings in a war that saw them lose their brothers, sons, husbands and fathers. Barker flips the narrative, contrasting these steely women with passionate warriors that weep and throw their toys out of the pram at the drop of a hat.

Parker effectively uses italics to show the inner voice, from both sides. She manages to show so much nuance in the characters. Especially when Briseis is being struggled over by men on different sides of this tireless war.

The use of British vernacular did grate on me occasionally. But not enough to stop me from ploughing on. This book is definitely compelling. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it, it was too violent for me to me to find enjoyment in it, but I couldn’t put it down. The writing is brilliant and all I expected from Barker.

I would whole-heartedly recommend it if you’ve been suckered into this sort of novel like I have. I assume that anyone picking up a novel based on Greek myths would expect a level of violence and would know what they’re getting themselves into. Why is it that reading about violence bothers me more at some times that others? Anyone else find this?

Kelly

Review-ish: The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry

‘I think it possible to put flesh on the bones of our terrors, most of all when we have turned our back on God.’

Cheers to Dai Brows for this recommendation. It’s definitely not something that I would have normally picked up as I shy away from period novels, but the recommendation was strong and Essex is the Mother and Fatherland so thought I’d give it a go. The cover is gorgeous actually, a William Morris design. I love it and it shows the reader that it’s much more than a piece of Victoriana.

It’s just a bit of a delight really. It has enough depth through the deeply complex and fascinating characters to make it truly gripping, but it doesn’t take itself too seriously. The narrative is so unusual, exploring Victorian thoughts on science, medicine, social housing, wrapped around a legendary serpent and this compelling and sometimes a bit frustrating (in a good way) central character.

Perry only hints at Cora’s past married life, which makes it all the more powerful. She creates a central character that is sometimes irritatingly niaive and at other times very self-aware. Cora herself recognises the contradiction of knowing that the marriage shaped her into the woman she is now.

Cora is a maverick and really challenges those around her’s perceptions of womanhood. I loved and loathed that everyone felt owed something by her; love, politeness, friendship, a typical family-life. This provides another layer of tension throughout the book and allows us to examine Victorian-life for women, through her experiences and the way that it contrasts to the other female characters.

Every character in the book, even the more minor ones, have the same level of detail, quirks and individuality. As I write this, I remember more and more of the characters; Naomi, Cracknell, Maureen Fry, Charles Ambrose and Thomas Taylor. A specific interaction between Cracknell and Cora’s son Francis stands out to me as peaceful, beautiful and faintly comical due to Francis’ matter-of-factness.

Perry uses foreshadowing in an impactful way without slapping you round the face with it. And her little updates or summaries at the start of many of the chapters were really poetically written and a simple and effective device.

This is a really great and pacey read. If you’re looking for something a bit different I highly recommend getting your teeth into it.

Whats everyone planning on reading over the Summer then?

Kelly



Review-ish: Circe by Madeline Miller

“He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none.” 

< There are so, so many beautiful passages in this book that I could have used, have a look here for some examples> Strap yourselves in, this is going to be one of those gushingly positive posts, where I offer very little literary criticism.

I have been eyeing up Circe in book shops ever since it was published in 2018, but a 5 hour wait at Edinburgh airport broke my resolve to get through my to-buy list in order. Circe is Madeline Millers second novel, following her debut novel, The Song of Achilles, which won the Orange Prize for Fiction back in 2012.

This book is so stunningly written that it will make me incoherent. Not only is the narrative fascinating, tracing Circe’s journey from childhood to adulthood (can a demi-god be a child??) intersecting with characters from well-known Greek myths, but it is also stunningly poetic.

“But gods are born of ichor and nectar, their excellences already bursting from their fingertips. So they find their fame by proving what they can mar: destroying cities, starting wars, breeding plagues and monsters. All that smoke and savor rising so delicately from our altars. It leaves only ash behind.” 

Case in point. Oh how its flows.

The way that Miller introduces these ancient stories is really remarkable. And surprisingly modern-feeling. The mythical characters were bought to life in a way that they never really had been for me before (save for a GCSE Drama class exploring Orpheus and Disney’s Hercules) All were 3D and complicated, and the Gods in particular were nuanced whilst, I believe, staying true to their origin stories.

I fell in love with Circe’s internal transformation, her strength and her flaws, in the way I would with a dear friend. She is complex, burdened with struggling to find her place in the world. No wonder so many of us related to her so deeply (it has a 4.3 rating on Goodreads at time of writing). This is without a doubt, one of my top reads of 2019 so far.

Thanks to some further-reading recommendations from Offbeat Book Club pals, I have become obsessed with these feminist re-tellings of stories that we have heard our entire lives. So further Reviews to follow. And please keep up your recommendations. Already on the list or already read: Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker and A Thousand Ships by Natalie Haynes. Obviously I will also HAVE to read A Song for Achilles by Madeline Miller.

Anyone else fallen in love with this? And dare I ask, did anyone hate it?

Kelly

Review-ish: The Royal Assassin by Robin Hobb (#2 in the Farseer Trilogy)

‘Wolves have no kings’.

I appreciate that I wasn’t blown away by the first installment to Hobb’s Farseer Triology, as you can read here, but something drew me back in. Lad-at-home continued to wax-lyrical about this series, and I didn’t dislike the first book, I just found it a little bit slow. I’m aware that I have the concentration-span of a springer spaniel and it had been a while since I’d read a fantasy books so thought I’d have a go at Book Number Two, The Royal Assassin.

This installment certainly isn’t slow. It picks up after a cliffhanger, with Fitz a shell of his former youthful self, and rushes straight back into the action. The characters that are introduced in the first book develop further, all with very interesting and often unexpected arcs. The Fool in particular begins to reveal more of his true self, whilst also totally baffling me. Which I loved. We follow Fitz into his near-adulthood, whilst he stumbling-ly finds his place within this world of treachery, intrigue and class war-fare.

The concept of the Forged Ones is brilliantly clever; we are made to fear them, but also pity them. And it allows us to explore the complex range of emotions that the families and communities must go through. It also allows us to see a new side to Fitz, as his skills develop.  I won’t say anymore about the Wit and the Skill as I don’t want to spoil it for any other readers but the ‘magic’ elements if this series as fantastic. I love that these skills have to be developed through hard work and connection to others, rather than just ‘boof’ magic-done-type magic of Tolkein ilk. Its why I love Ursula La Guin so much. Brilliant. 

Like a few reviewers on Goodreads, I feel fairly meh over Fitz’s relationship with Molly. I understand it as a plot device but care less about his romantic relationships that his much more interesting relationships with the royals, Burrich and Patience. There was a lot less of Chade is this book, which I hope that is meant to create more mystery around him, and hopefully he’ll play more of a role in the concluding book. 

This was a much more compelling read than Book #1. And I really hope that readers that find the first installment a bit slow aren’t put off trying the next one as it really is worth sticking with. I believe that I have read enough fantasy series over the years to confidently say that Hobb’s voice is wonderful and that the world that she has created is all-encompassing. Even if I haven’t read enough, sod it. This is my blog so I can say what I like!

Anyone ever had a similar experience with a series before? Is second-book-syndrome really a thing? Chat ahead in the comments.

Kelly