july 2025 books…

Dark Days (James Baldwin): Three extended essays - written in 1965, 1980 and 1985 - by the redoubtable American writer and civil rights activist (1924-1987). They draw on Baldwin’s own experiences of prejudice in an America violently divided by race. This note on the book’s cover describe the essays perfectly: “These searing essays blend the intensely personal with the political to envisage a better world”. As the title suggests, it’s a tough read – but an articulate, challenging and powerful product of a brilliant mind.
Tell Me Everything (Elizabeth Strout): Strout is one of my favourite writers (this is the seventh book of hers I’ve read). It’s strange, when you start reading a book, KNOWING that you’re going to really enjoy it… and having that awful feeling of not wanting to finish it, because you know there will be an awful sense of ‘loss’ or even ‘grief’ when you do. It’s a novel about ‘normal people’… about relationships and ageing… about sadness and illumination… about joys and hopes… about connection and unnoticed lives. I think I’ll leave it there (*no spoilers*), but just to say that it ticked SO many boxes for me. I loved it. Compelling and quite brilliant.
Carrying The Elephant (Michael Rosen): Another book of poetry/prose (first published in 2002) that I’ve been using for my early morning reflections. I love Rosen’s writing and his ability to comment on the everyday stuff of life. But at the heart of this series of pieces is the shocking reality of the sudden death from meningitis of his 18 year-old son. There are also reflections on his own life… his left-wing Jewish upbringing, with baffling childhood trips to Trafalgar Square, eastern Europe and hospital, followed by trainee days at the BBC under the watchful eyes of MI5, breakdown of a marriage, development of a new relationship and the joy of a new baby. A challenging, unflinching mixture of painful honesty, wonder, surprise and humour.
Time And Tide (Edna O’Brien): As you probably know, I adore O’Brien’s writing… but, strangely, I struggled for the first 100 or so pages of this novel (first published in 1992). It’s a story of Nell, an impulsive Irish country girl, who runs off to marry an older man, estranging herself from her disapproving parents… it doesn’t go well and she ends up being trapped in London with her two small sons. What I initially found hard to handle were Nell’s unrelenting crises with life (often of her own making)… trying to leave her husband and make a new life for herself as an independent, free-spirited and often wild single mother. But, eventually, I found myself taken over by the compelling story (and the quality of the writing). The novel is a complex mixture of tenderness, innocence, folly and sadness… and, at times, comedy. Stunningly well written. Quite brilliant.
Next To Nature (Ronald Blythe): I started this excellent book in August last year and have gently worked my way through it (published in 2023) over the course of the last 12 months. Blyth (who died in January 2023, aged 100) lived at the end of an overgrown farm track in Wormingford, for almost half a century, in a house once owned by his artist friend John Nash. The book is something of a monthly diary, as the book’s cover puts it, “observing the slow turn of the agricultural year, the church calendar and village life”. I enjoyed his references of his garden tasks and his somewhat haughty white cat. The church was obviously an important part of Blythe’s life (he was a lay reader at the local churches), so I’ll forgive him for what, at times, felt like ‘too much church’! I’ve really enjoyed reading the book at the start of the day – part of my early morning routine - and know I’ll miss its gentle discipline marking the rhythm of the year. No doubt I’ll return to it from time to time.