Back In The Day (Melvyn Bragg): I absolutely loved this book! I’m a big fan of Bragg (I’ve read several of his books and have also regularly tuned in to his ‘In Our Time’ programme on the radio) – he would definitely be in my “World XI”! In the memoir, Bragg revisits his youth in the Cumbrian town of Wigton (from his early years during the war – he was born in 1939 - to the time he left his hometown behind). He had a working-class background (his parents ran a pub) and was, like all his friends, expected to leave school at 15. Somewhat remarkably (and despite a breakdown, but with the encouragement of two of his teachers), he developed a passion for books and learning (he talks of setting up 42 hours of homework for himself each week!) and ended up gaining a scholarship to Oxford. The book represents a poignant story of a vanished era – about a community-spirited northern town still steeped in ‘old ways’. He ‘walks’ through its streets and recalls the names and trades of all the shopkeepers; he describes the alcohol-free(!) local dances (he and his friends travelling to them in nearby villages on their bikes); the glorious landscapes of the Lake District; his friends; and the first proper love of his life. Quite enchanting.
The Nine Tailors (Dorothy L Sayers): I haven’t read many of Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries – to be honest, his character has never really appealed to me. This novel (first published in 1934 and set in the remote fens of east Anglia) (‘Nine Tailors' from the title relates to the nine bell strokes at the beginning of the toll announcing to villagers that a man is dead) is apparently meant to be one of her best. For me, although the plot was incredibly clever, I thought it was far TOO clever – too complicated and intricate (and I was bored by the first 50 pages of endless bell-ringing technical and church architecture details) - indeed, I was left with the distinct feeling that Sayers was desperately ‘showing off’ her wealth of knowledge (especially of bell-ringing changes!) and her intellect. As one might also imagine, the dialogue is extremely dated and rather pompous – very class orientated and very disparaging of the working-class locals (and the French!). I’m afraid it wasn’t a book I particularly enjoyed. I might be in a minority, but I’m not her greatest fan!
Lolly Willowes (Sylvia Townsend Warner): This is our next Storysmith bookgroup book (based on an ‘uplifting’ theme). First published in 1926, Lolly Willowes is a dreamy young woman with no interest in marriage. On the death of her father, she becomes absorbed into the household of the somewhat stuffy, self-satisfied family of her brother Henry and his wife - becoming indispensable “Aunt Lolly”, forever obliged and obliging to others. In due course, out of the blue, she suddenly announces that she is leaving London and moving, alone, to the depths of the Chilterns countryside (to a place called Great Mop, which she has never visited). Her overbearing relatives are horrified. It turns out that she has a greater, far darker calling than family: witchcraft. It’s an act of defiance – away from perceived gender roles, family love, social convention, religious propriety and the like. I have to admit that I struggled a little with Lolly’s encounters with the devil (perhaps my intellect wasn’t up to it?)(came to the conclusion that her witchcraft allegorical… giving herself over to the spirit of adventure?), but I did enjoy the delicacy and humour of the book’s prose and its encouragement to be prepared to fight expectations and to pursue dreams and possibilities.
Shuggie Bain (Douglas Stuart): This is our next BB’s bookgroup book (I first read it in January last year and so won’t repeat what I’ve previously blog posted). It’s a heartbreaking novel of lost, chaotic childhoods of poverty and addiction. Shuggie Bain is the youngest of three children growing up in the Glasgow of the early 1980s, trapped in mining town decimated by Thatcherism (the story spans the period 1981-92; Shuggie is just five at the start of the story). Their philandering father has upped and left and their mother increasingly turns to alcohol for comfort. The children try their best to save her but, gradually, one by one they abandon her to save themselves. It’s a world for which ‘sexual consent’ has no meaning. It’s shockingly brutal and stark… it makes for a difficult read (even on re-reading) and yet it’s utterly compelling. Moving, funny, tender and incredibly real.
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