Fifteen in April (2)

I read fifteen books in April – this is the second of two blog posts about them; you can read the first here.

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens

Read on Kindle. At the time of my writing, the book has a staggering 40,393 reviews on Amazon UK with an average rating of 4.5. It’s the author’s first novel but she is an acclaimed zoologist who has written extensively about Africa. A film is on its way (inevitably).

Set in the swamplands of North Carolina, it’s the story of a girl – a small child – abandoned by one family member after another and left to fend for herself, which she does most resourcefully and in the process becomes an expert on the flora and fauna of the area. It’s a place where there are racial tensions and where passions and tempers run high and women do not come off well most of the time. There’s a murder.

For me, there are echoes of three books I love: Crow Lake, To Kill a Mockingbird and Girl of the Limberlost. The writing is lyrical and the descriptions of the swamps are breathtaking; I was right there in the humid marshlands.

Towards the end though I felt as though we were rather hastily being told what was happening rather than being shown and I had more questions than answers regarding the identity of the murderer.

Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns

From Christian Aid Book Sale 2019. After reading Where the Crawdads Sing my journey in the American South continued. This book answered a question I’ve had about some towns in America having banal names. ’Twas not always so, apparently. The real town that inspired the setting for this book was originally called Harmony Grove but at the beginning of the 20th century this was regarded as too ‘folksy’ and old-fashioned and the name was changed to – Commerce.

Written in the 1980s, the book is set in 1904 and has a terrific main character, a lad of fourteen who is good-hearted (mostly) but a great gossip and eavesdropper. Amid the tattle tales and scandals and tragedies, the changing face of rural America is apparent with, for example, the car beginning to replace the horse.

Mrs Sinclair’s Suitcase by Louise Walters

From charity shop to whence it shall return as soon as possible.

Dual narrative: early 1940s with Dorothy, and 2010 with her granddaughter Roberta. Long-lost families, a character who works in a second-hand bookshop and finds letters etc inside books – this ticked several much-loved book themes for me. Before I read it, that is.

I did finish it but it left me completely cold; not one of the characters came alive. Whatever their era/age/gender/nationality/background, they spoke (and wrote) indistinguishably. 

No matter how much the author tried to tug on my heartstrings they remained resolutely untugged.

And, for a book with literary pretensions, the out-of-the-blue revelation at the end about bookshop owner Philip was ludicrous; it had me burst out laughing, not the author’s intention.

If it’s a story of estranged families and second-hand bookshops you’re after, then read Lost for Words by Stephanie Butland. I liked it so much I almost got a tattoo.

Murder at the Brightwell by Ashley Weaver

Read on Kindle. First in this 1920s cosy crime series with an aristocratic young woman sleuth called Amory Ames. Very enjoyable; I will read more of them. Amory’s unconventional relationship with her husband Milo adds extra interest.

Mrs Hudson and The Spirits’ Curse by Martin Davies

Holmes & Hudson Mystery Book 1. I loved this. The conceit is that housekeeper Mrs Hudson is even more gifted a case solver than her famous employer, aided by her plucked-off-the-street kitchen maid, Flottie (short for Flotsam). Mrs H has friends everywhere – from the great and the good from previous employments, who are in her debt for various reasons, to the street urchins who are her eyes and ears. The author conjures up Victorian London just as well if not better than Arthur Conan Doyle.

The Publishing Game by Edward Stourton

Bought at the Edinburgh Book Festival last year after hearing him speak. It’s a history of the family-run publishing company Hodder & Stoughton (pronounced Stoaton in case you were wondering). By default it’s also a history of ‘the publishing game’ from Victorian times up until the early 1980s when so many long-established companies were subsumed into conglomerates.

I worked in publishing in London (for Hutchinson, now part of Random House) from 1976 to 1982 so it is a subject dear to my heart.

Girl, Woman, Other by Bernadine Evaristo

Read on Kindle for (zoom meeting of) Book Group. Famously, joint winner of the 2019 Booker Prize.

Once I’d got over (and I quickly did) the style (no full sentences, little punctuation) I whizzed through this and found it thoroughly entertaining and thought-provoking (the two things don’t often go together I would suggest): interwoven stories of twelve black women in Britain from the early 20th century to the present day.

Would bear re-reading in paperback I think, where it would be easier to flick back and remember how the women are connected.