june-july 2026 books...

The Hand That First Held Mine (Maggie O’Farrell): I love O’Farrell’s writing and absolutely loved this particular book (published in 2010). It’s about two couples (one in the 1950s and one in the ‘present day’) and how the portraits of two extraordinary women, separated by 50 years, are revealed – in ways neither of them could ever have expected. Beautifully-written and hugely thought-provoking. It left me feeling quite bereft by the end (in a good way!).
The World’s Two Smallest Humans (Julia Copus): Yet more early morning poetry… I picked up this book (first published in 2012) at the library, having never previously come across Copus’s poetry, and was very impressed. The book (first published in 2012) is split into two halves: the first explores memory, the elasticity of time, and shifting perspectives, while the second is a brave, confessional sequence detailing the Copus’s emotional and physical journey through IVF treatment.
Raising Hare (Chloe Dalton): This is our next Blokes’ bookgroup selection. The author lives part of her life in a restored stone barn situated somewhere in the English countryside. She finds a newly-born hare, endangered, alone and no bigger than the palm of her hand. She feels compelled to give it a chance at survival… and so begins their journey together – chronicling their relationship. I have to say that this is definitely NOT ‘my kind of book’. It provided some fascinating insights of nature and of the behaviour of hares in the wild, but it wasn’t quite for me.
Glad Of These Times (Helen Dunmore): For me, there’s a comforting familiarity about Dunmore’s poetry (this book published in 2007) - exploring, reflective, challenging. This collection frequently focusses on the environment. I particularly liked her title poem – reflecting on being stuck on a motorway observing the packed lanes due to road works… but ‘glad of her times, glad not to be ill, not to be poor’ (as one reviewer described it). Perhaps, somewhat strangely, I also detected an occasional allusion to death (‘push towards to death’ in the words of the same reviewer) – which, to me, being familiar with her final book of poetry, ‘Inside The Wave’ (written just before she died in 2017), felt particularly poignant. Count your blessings!
My Yorkshire (David Hockney): I picked up this book from the library a week or so after Hockney’s death. As well as containing lots of his Yorkshire paintings from 2000-2010, it’s book that records two extended, fascinating conversations (in 2008 and 2010) with art historian Marco Livingstone. It was a reminder of the artist’s creative mind and his constant pursuit of new ways of thinking and doing – his art knowledge; his energy; his inventiveness; how he positively embraced technology; how he constantly asked questions of himself (the complete opposite to me!); and about seeing+looking and looking+seeing. I really enjoyed the pair’s fascinating, gentle (and yet sometimes quite probing) and enlightening exchanges. I knew I’d enjoy seeing all the familiar images again, but I was surprised by just how touched I was by their musings. The book was also a lovely reminder of the ‘David Hockney RA: The Bigger Picture’ exhibition at the Royal Academy in 2012.