Take Nothing With You (Patrick Gale): Moira+I recently went to hear Patrick Gale talk engagingly about his latest book at the Tobacco Factory – duly supported by a rather beautiful cello accompaniment… which was entirely apt given that the novel is about a boy, an only child, leading a strange existence in a houseful of elderly adults, whose life dramatically changes under the spell of his cello teacher. The boy makes new friendships through music… but also learns harsh life lessons of love, survival and resilience. There are elements of the story that are almost autobiographical. Had he not become a writer, Gale might have been a musician (as a promising youngster he was selected to attend courses at the International Cello Centre, a residential school in the Scottish borders). Although, at times, I felt Gale was almost ‘showing-off’ his knowledge of the instrument, the intricate skills required to play the cello and the particular pieces of music that highlighted its beauty, he does tell a very warm and humane story rather impressively. Once again, reading one of Gale’s books provided me with a sense of being in the hands of a very skilled, accomplished writer. Will not, perhaps, emerge as one of my ‘books of the year’, but enjoyable and compelling nevertheless.
The Snack Thief (Andrea Camilleri): I managed to find THREE Inspector Montalbano books in the ‘Last Bookshop’ recently… and perhaps reading one of them a month will help make up for the grieving of having finished the last of Cleeves’s ‘Shetland’ books! As ever, Montalbano’s unique approach to Sicilian crime-fighting, government corruption and gastronomy wins the day for me. Well as being an entertaining read (frequently, absurdly funny), this has a clever, complex and compelling storyline. Sad to learn of Camilleri’s death, aged 93, only a few days ago.
The Corset (Laura Purcell): Another book to be discussed in of my lovely Storysmith Book Group. It’s difficult to summarise this book – a compelling Victorian gothic crime mystery perhaps? The novel is told from the perspective of two individuals: Ruth Butterham, a 16-year-old seamstress, who stands accused of murdering her abusive mistress and Dorothea Truelove, a wealthy young heiress who combines good works (including visiting Ruth in prison) with the study of phrenology. As something of a crucial complication, Ruth believes she has supernatural powers. It’s a story of privilege and poverty and an evocative portrait of a society that punishes women who dare to contravene social norms (Ruth’s mother suffered appallingly for marrying against her family’s wishes and Dorothea wants to marry a policeman - unbeknownst to her father - rather than to move in fashionable society and ‘marry well’). At times, with all its cruelty and appalling working conditions, it felt a little reading newspaper reports of modern-day ‘slavery’. Apparently, it’s based to some degree on the case of a milliner and her daughter, who were hanged in 1762 for appalling mistreatment of one of their young apprentices. It took me some time to ‘get into the novel’ but, in the end, I found it rather spellbinding, sinister, very cleverly written and really quite gripping… *no spoilers* Was I utterly convinced by the ending? Well, yes and no… but it certainly left me pondering – which is never a bad thing! Can’t wait for the discussion!
English Cricket (Neville Cardus): I handed over a load of my old cricket books to a very nice bookseller at Gloucestershire’s Cheltenham Cricket Festival last week and, because I rather like reading Neville Cardus waxing lyrical about the ‘old, innocent cricketing days of yesterday’, I took this book away with me. Published in 1945 and my copy had a fountain pen inscription on the inside cover: “Ron from Mary (Ann). 27 May 1947” which felt a little surreal – Ron and Mary being the names of my father and mother! The book outlines the broad history and development of the game, together with background, statistics and stories about some of its more prominent characters. I loved some of the posed/contrived action photographs of individual batsmen, bowlers and fielders. Having read a number Cardus’s books, there was very little that was particularly new, but it acted as a gentle reminder of cricket in different ages – games between ‘Gentlemen’ and ‘Players’; players of the mid-19th century all wearing top hats; a time when all that seemed to matter was “fighting the good fight chivalrously and decisively”!). Predictably romantic, nostalgic and enjoyable.
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