august-september 2025 books…

Give Unto Others (Donna Leon): I’ve read several Donna Leon’s ‘Commissario Brunetti Mysteries’ over the years – but this is my first for more than 3 years (I think I read half a dozen in 2022!). I love the Brunetti cynical character and, of course, that the books’ settings are based in Venice – emerging from the Covid pandemic in this one. As ever, the plot is clever and complicated (and I’m tempted to add contrived!)… involving family deceptions, old age, financial scams and the like. As often happens with Leon’s books, I frequently found myself having to check on the list of characters and their relationships with each other. An enjoyable read, but certainly not one of Leon’s best (in my opinion)… and I actually found it somewhat frustrating that the ‘case’ (which wasn’t a police case at all) involved Brunetti using his police colleagues to help him sort out a problem first brought to him by a family friend. Not the best use of police resources perhaps?  
The Blue Flower (Penelope Fitzgerald): First published in 1995, it tells the story of Friedrich von Hardenberg (Fritz) - destined to become one of Germany's great romantic poets of the late 18th century (becoming the great romantic poet and philosopher Novalis). The novel’s cover summarises things: “The year is 1794 and Fritz, passionate, idealistic and brilliant, is seeking his father’s permission to announce his engagement to his heart’s desire: twelve-year-old Sophie. His astounded family and friends are amused and disturbed by his betrothal. What can he be thinking?”. It’s a story from a romantic era – with all its political turmoil and intellectual snobbery(?) – and also a charming, wry, and witty look at domestic life – despite Sophie’s poor health. Fritz’s position in the minor Saxon nobility had limited opportunities. The book’s introduction describes his background thus: “His family had estates, a household, a respectable allocation of linen, duties, a nag or two, habits of generosity; not money”. In order to make his living, Fritz embarks on a career overseeing processes of salt mining. Sophie is far from exceptional in most people’s eyes (as well as being very young!): “an ordinary-looking girl… with nice hair and dark eyes”. Indeed, Fritz’s brother Erasmus describes her thus: “Fritz, Sophie is stupid!”. I have to admit that I frequently found it difficult to keep up with all the names of the complex Hardenberg and their various friends and contacts. I enjoyed Fitzgerald’s somewhat cynical, sardonic writing style and surprising humour (despite the sadness of the story)(*no spoilers!*)… and that the novel was broken down into 55 fairly brief chapters (which greatly helped me – especially for the first 100 pages or so!). But, by and large (although my perception became more positive by the second half of the book), the novel failed to hold my attention or properly retain my interest. Intriguing, but perhaps not quite for me.
Poems (Anna Akhmatova): This is another book of poetry that I’m using for my daily early morning reflections (beautifully and sensitively translated by DM Thomas). I came across Akhmatova’s writing only thanks to an interview I’d read in The Observer (I think?) by writer/farmer/environmentalist James Rebanks. Akhmatova (1889-1966) is regarded as one of Russia’s greatest 20^th century poets. I’m taking things gently and have only read through six of her short books thus far (‘Evening’, ‘Rosary’, ‘By The Seashore’, ‘White Flock’, ‘Plantain’ and ‘Anno Domini’)… but I’ve been very impressed and very pleased to have come across her work (and look forward to reading more).
The Member Of The Wedding (Carson McCullers): This is our Storysmith’s bookgroup next book choice (theme: weddings). First published in 1946, it focusses on 12-year-old tomboy Frankie – living in an unnamed Southern town in Georgia in the American South during 1943. The specific setting includes Frankie's family home – frequently with Berenice (cook), 6-year-old John Henry West (first cousin) and Frankie playing cards around the kitchen table - her father's jewellery store, and the Black neighbourhood of Sugarville. These provide a backdrop for the novel's themes of isolation and the protagonist Frankie's coming-of-age. Somewhat surprisingly the wedding of the book’s title (between Frankie’s brother Jarvis and Janice) doesn’t really feature prominently (although Frankie is determined that she should be allowed to join the couple on their honeymoon!). It’s much more a book about the border between childhood and adolescence… and the pangs of growing up (‘a portal to adulthood’ as Ali Smith describes it in the Introduction); the book’s cover emphasises “a girl torn between the yearning to belong and the urge to run away” – which I felt was quite an accurate assessment. In many ways, it’s a novel of unfinished stories… frequently hovering between humour and grief/sadness. It’s written in three parts and rendered in a ‘stream of consciousness’ format – which I sometimes found quite difficult to follow. Each part contains paragraph after paragraph without a break; virtually no chapters or even gaps between paragraphs (I like books to have a particular rhythm of chapters so found this book’s format a little frustrating). It’s only a short book (178 pages) and yet, unusually for me, it seemed to take quite a long time for me to finish it. Having said that I really did quite enjoy it - not one of my ‘books-of-the-year’ books perhaps, but a compelling read.
The Little Red Chairs (Edna O’Brien): As you know, I love O’Brien’s writing and this novel (published in 2015) is no exception. It begins with a wanted Balkan war criminal – disguised as a self-styled ‘holistic healer’ – who arrives in a small village on the west coast of Ireland. The community is soon under the spell of this charismatic stranger. One married woman, in particular, becomes fatally attracted to the man and begs him to ‘give her a baby’… with dark, startling consequences. The woman is forced to leave her homeland and moves through a myriad of settings, including cleaning offices along with other exploited migrant workers in central London, working at a home for retired greyhounds in the Kent countryside, and attending a war crimes tribunal at the Hague. I think I should leave it there. It’s a book with breathtaking twists and turns… and I was hugely impressed (note: the book’s title relates to the siege of Sarajevo in 1992 by Bosnian Serb forces; 11,541 red chairs – one chair for every citizen killed - were laid out along the city’s high street to commemorate the siege’s 20^th anniversary).