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Hazel (1853 KP) rated A Piece Of The World in Books
Dec 14, 2018
<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.</i>
Until reading Christina Baker Kline’s note at the end of the book, it is impossible to guess that it is based on real people, although, admittedly, it is a little strange to name the main character after oneself. In fact, <i>A Piece of the World</i> is written around a single painting in the Museum of Modern Art, New York: <i>Christina’s World</i> (1948) by Andrew Wyeth, a man who appears and paints this work in the story.
Baker Cline researched thoroughly into the background story of the painting. Christina Olson, the main character of this book, was a real person who posed for Wyeth as he painted this striking picture. Although the overall story is a work of fiction, the dates and key characters are biographically accurate. Beginning in 1939, the narrative weaves too and fro, from Christina’s present day to her childhood and back again. Christina is an ageing woman who can barely walk and lives in a dilapidated cottage with her brother on a hill in the village of Cushing, Maine. Having lived in this state for so long, it is a welcome surprise to be visited by the young Andrew Wyeth who falls in love with the cottage and regularly comes to work on his canvases in their upper rooms. Through their peaceful relationship and flashbacks to her past, Christina’s character development is investigated and knitted together to explain why she has become this recluse on a hill.
Christina had problems from a very young age. After almost dying from a fever, she developed an undiagnosed degenerative disease that slowly ate away at the nerves in her arms and legs. Today, neurologists believe this to be <i>Charcot-Marie-Tooth</i> disease but there were no doctors able to provide this diagnosis at the time. Christina suffered aches and pains growing up and could barely walk in a straight line. Her determination to keep going is admirable and makes her a strong female protagonist.
One day in her early twenties, Christina meets a boy who pays her the kind of attention that she has never received before. Believing his promises that they will be together forever, she dares to dream of having a normal life. The reader, however, knows that the future Christina is alone with only her brother for company, making it heartbreaking to read of their developing romance knowing that it is not going to last.
There is no “happy-ever-after” to this story, nor is there a sad ending. It is an account of a woman who had been dealt a raw deal in life but continued getting on despite it. The end result, the painting <i>Christina’s World</i>, shows Christina as she sees herself. She may not be able to walk but she is still a woman; she made the most of her childhood, she never complained. This painting is her “letter to the World that never wrote to [Her].”
<i>A Piece of the World</i> is a powerful novel about purpose and determination. Christina may not have had a typical, successful life or become famous but she had her daily achievements: crawling through a field for an hour to visit a friend, cooking dinners despite not being able to stand up, carrying on after the end of a romantic relationship …
Written as gracefully as the brushstrokes of a painting with elements of Emily Dickinson thrown in here and there, </i>A Piece of the World</i> is a beautiful piece of work. It is something that can be enjoyed as you are mentally drawn into the storyline, leaving you wondering what happens to Christina and her brother after the completion of the painting. It is a novel the author can be proud of.
<imgsrc="https://www.moma.org/media/W1siZiIsIjE2NTQ1NyJdLFsicCIsImNvbnZlcnQiLCItcmVzaXplIDIwMDB4MjAwMFx1MDAzZSJdXQ.jpg?sha=33c151dba7f8de4c"width="100"height="40"alt="ChristinasWorld"/>;
Until reading Christina Baker Kline’s note at the end of the book, it is impossible to guess that it is based on real people, although, admittedly, it is a little strange to name the main character after oneself. In fact, <i>A Piece of the World</i> is written around a single painting in the Museum of Modern Art, New York: <i>Christina’s World</i> (1948) by Andrew Wyeth, a man who appears and paints this work in the story.
Baker Cline researched thoroughly into the background story of the painting. Christina Olson, the main character of this book, was a real person who posed for Wyeth as he painted this striking picture. Although the overall story is a work of fiction, the dates and key characters are biographically accurate. Beginning in 1939, the narrative weaves too and fro, from Christina’s present day to her childhood and back again. Christina is an ageing woman who can barely walk and lives in a dilapidated cottage with her brother on a hill in the village of Cushing, Maine. Having lived in this state for so long, it is a welcome surprise to be visited by the young Andrew Wyeth who falls in love with the cottage and regularly comes to work on his canvases in their upper rooms. Through their peaceful relationship and flashbacks to her past, Christina’s character development is investigated and knitted together to explain why she has become this recluse on a hill.
Christina had problems from a very young age. After almost dying from a fever, she developed an undiagnosed degenerative disease that slowly ate away at the nerves in her arms and legs. Today, neurologists believe this to be <i>Charcot-Marie-Tooth</i> disease but there were no doctors able to provide this diagnosis at the time. Christina suffered aches and pains growing up and could barely walk in a straight line. Her determination to keep going is admirable and makes her a strong female protagonist.
One day in her early twenties, Christina meets a boy who pays her the kind of attention that she has never received before. Believing his promises that they will be together forever, she dares to dream of having a normal life. The reader, however, knows that the future Christina is alone with only her brother for company, making it heartbreaking to read of their developing romance knowing that it is not going to last.
There is no “happy-ever-after” to this story, nor is there a sad ending. It is an account of a woman who had been dealt a raw deal in life but continued getting on despite it. The end result, the painting <i>Christina’s World</i>, shows Christina as she sees herself. She may not be able to walk but she is still a woman; she made the most of her childhood, she never complained. This painting is her “letter to the World that never wrote to [Her].”
<i>A Piece of the World</i> is a powerful novel about purpose and determination. Christina may not have had a typical, successful life or become famous but she had her daily achievements: crawling through a field for an hour to visit a friend, cooking dinners despite not being able to stand up, carrying on after the end of a romantic relationship …
Written as gracefully as the brushstrokes of a painting with elements of Emily Dickinson thrown in here and there, </i>A Piece of the World</i> is a beautiful piece of work. It is something that can be enjoyed as you are mentally drawn into the storyline, leaving you wondering what happens to Christina and her brother after the completion of the painting. It is a novel the author can be proud of.
<imgsrc="https://www.moma.org/media/W1siZiIsIjE2NTQ1NyJdLFsicCIsImNvbnZlcnQiLCItcmVzaXplIDIwMDB4MjAwMFx1MDAzZSJdXQ.jpg?sha=33c151dba7f8de4c"width="100"height="40"alt="ChristinasWorld"/>;
Hazel (1853 KP) rated The Ice-Cream Makers in Books
Dec 14, 2018
<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.</i>
An intriguing blurb promises an incredible story about an Italian ice-cream making family, however the story is nothing like you expect. Ernest van der Kwast’s <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> is set between a small village in Italy and the busy summer streets of Rotterdam. The Talamini family has been creating innovative ice-cream flavours for over a century, running a successful and hard-working parlour in the Netherlands. The business is handed down from father to son throughout the years, but now eldest son Giovanni has broken the tradition.
Giovanni Talamini has no interest in making ice-cream and would much rather spend the day reading poetry. After pursuing a literary career, Giovanni is now the director of the World Poetry Festival. Younger brother Luca has been left to pick up the <i>spatula</i> of the family business, but he has a problem of his own. Giovanni faces a dilemma: cut himself of from his family entirely or help his brother out with his peculiar request.
The highly unusual request mentioned in the blurb of <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> does not actually surface until the latter stages of the book. For the majority of the narrative there is no clear storyline, however the detail and information van der Kwast provides about ice-cream making, poetry and European culture makes the novel entirely worth reading. The request itself is entirely unexpected and not at all possible to guess, but it is an oddly brilliant way of reuniting two estranged brothers.
It takes a while for the narrative to start flowing as it constantly changes time periods. Giovanni, the narrator, rarely speaks in the present tense and is constantly relating events from his childhood and adulthood interspersed with family history and historical knowledge. On occasion the book takes on the air of an autobiography as Giovanni gives an in depth insight to the life of his family and his break from tradition. There is also the odd chapter that becomes almost a work of non-fiction, providing the reader with highbrow literary references and factual information about the history of ice-cream.
Once the scenes caused by the male sexual mind have been glossed over, <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> becomes a beautifully written, almost poetical story that compels and engages the reader despite the lack of a clear-cut storyline. The literary references will appeal to the intellectual, scholar, philosopher or culture enthusiast, for this novel teaches and inspires as well as entertains.
The amount of research van der Kwast conducted is phenomenal. The accuracy (or so is presumed) of the historical factors implies the author had thoroughly investigated the subject matter prior to writing. It is almost as though van der Kwast lived the life of Giovanni; it is entirely believable – hence the sense of an autobiography. Although the nature of the novel’s theme suggests a serious tone, van der Kwast has included a great deal of humour in the form of Giovanni and Luca’s father and his questionable mental health.
The lack of a climax prevents <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> from being described as an exciting book, however its beautifully poetic prose makes up for this absence. The philosophical insight into poetry will make you think about life and admire Giovanni for insisting on making his own way in the world. Likewise, Luca’s quiet acceptance and perseverance in the family business is also an admirable feat. Readers with a dislike for descriptive sexual scenarios may feel uncomfortable in a few of the resulting scenes, however the general story compensates for these distasteful passages. All in all, a high-quality work of fiction.
An intriguing blurb promises an incredible story about an Italian ice-cream making family, however the story is nothing like you expect. Ernest van der Kwast’s <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> is set between a small village in Italy and the busy summer streets of Rotterdam. The Talamini family has been creating innovative ice-cream flavours for over a century, running a successful and hard-working parlour in the Netherlands. The business is handed down from father to son throughout the years, but now eldest son Giovanni has broken the tradition.
Giovanni Talamini has no interest in making ice-cream and would much rather spend the day reading poetry. After pursuing a literary career, Giovanni is now the director of the World Poetry Festival. Younger brother Luca has been left to pick up the <i>spatula</i> of the family business, but he has a problem of his own. Giovanni faces a dilemma: cut himself of from his family entirely or help his brother out with his peculiar request.
The highly unusual request mentioned in the blurb of <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> does not actually surface until the latter stages of the book. For the majority of the narrative there is no clear storyline, however the detail and information van der Kwast provides about ice-cream making, poetry and European culture makes the novel entirely worth reading. The request itself is entirely unexpected and not at all possible to guess, but it is an oddly brilliant way of reuniting two estranged brothers.
It takes a while for the narrative to start flowing as it constantly changes time periods. Giovanni, the narrator, rarely speaks in the present tense and is constantly relating events from his childhood and adulthood interspersed with family history and historical knowledge. On occasion the book takes on the air of an autobiography as Giovanni gives an in depth insight to the life of his family and his break from tradition. There is also the odd chapter that becomes almost a work of non-fiction, providing the reader with highbrow literary references and factual information about the history of ice-cream.
Once the scenes caused by the male sexual mind have been glossed over, <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> becomes a beautifully written, almost poetical story that compels and engages the reader despite the lack of a clear-cut storyline. The literary references will appeal to the intellectual, scholar, philosopher or culture enthusiast, for this novel teaches and inspires as well as entertains.
The amount of research van der Kwast conducted is phenomenal. The accuracy (or so is presumed) of the historical factors implies the author had thoroughly investigated the subject matter prior to writing. It is almost as though van der Kwast lived the life of Giovanni; it is entirely believable – hence the sense of an autobiography. Although the nature of the novel’s theme suggests a serious tone, van der Kwast has included a great deal of humour in the form of Giovanni and Luca’s father and his questionable mental health.
The lack of a climax prevents <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> from being described as an exciting book, however its beautifully poetic prose makes up for this absence. The philosophical insight into poetry will make you think about life and admire Giovanni for insisting on making his own way in the world. Likewise, Luca’s quiet acceptance and perseverance in the family business is also an admirable feat. Readers with a dislike for descriptive sexual scenarios may feel uncomfortable in a few of the resulting scenes, however the general story compensates for these distasteful passages. All in all, a high-quality work of fiction.
Hazel (1853 KP) rated Notes on Blindness: A Journey Through The Dark in Books
Dec 17, 2018
<I>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.</I>
It is not often a blind man writes a book, and “write” is a word used due to the lack of a better. John M. Hull gradually lost his sight, registering as blind in 1980, a couple of days before the birth of his son. Although anticipating the event, John struggled to come to terms with his new circumstances and adjust to a new way of living. From 1983 through to 1985, John recorded his thoughts on tape, in diary form, as a way to ascertain and understand his predicament. Originally titled <I>Touching the Rock</I> (1990), John’s book has been republished as <I>Notes on Blindness</i> after the release of the film of the same name.
Initially, John made recordings every day, dictating the everyday occurrences he encountered. Amazingly, despite his disability, John was able to continue as a university lecturer and delve deeper into the world of theology. The way John thinks things through as he speaks reflects his academic abilities. Although he may have despaired at the thoughts of not being able to see his children, he had a fairly positive outlook on life.
John’s thought capacity and religious ideology are evident in his assemblage of diary entries. As a blind person, he learns to see the world in an alternative way, and often feels closer to God as a result. Through these new experiences, John begins to see the light despite the darkness.
The metaphorical descriptions of blindness help the reader to understand the horror and difficulties not being able to see visually provokes. This is heightened by John’s recordings of the bad dreams he often suffers, in which he is able to see. His fixations on these dreams are assumedly a fascination with visual imagery, which he does not have access to in his waking life.
It is hard not feel sorry for John as he reports the conversations he has with his young children. The effort to communicate and play with them is far greater than a seeing parent. Remarkably, as John begins to adjust to his new lifestyle, his children take the situation in their stride.
<i>Notes on Blindness</i> is also an educational narrative for those without sight problems. John explains the things other people, in attempts to be helpful, do that result in making things far more confusing for John as he tries to navigate his way from one place to another. Despite what most think, blind people are fairly good at walking routes they are familiar with, and, with the help of a stick, can safely travel through new areas. Once people start shouting instructions, it is difficult to pay attention to the location and listen to everyone else at the same time.
John’s voice is extremely articulate, and his thoughts profound, which may suggest heavy editing when compiling the recordings into written form. However, as he is an academician, his eloquence of speech does not feel forced or faked.
<i>Notes on Blindness</i> remains the same as the original publication but with the added inclusion of an introduction by Cathy Rentzenbrink, and an epilogue by his wife Marilyn, written in 2016, a year after his death. These, the latter in particular, provide an insight into how John’s blindness affected those around him and emphasises what a truly remarkable man he was.
Of the many memoirs available on bookshelves today,<i> Notes on Blindness</i> is a truly unique publication. It is not telling a story, or recounting a well-lived life, but gives great insight into the world of the blind. As John’s thoughts were not originally recorded with intention of being available to everyone, they are all the more personal and honest, provoking emotion and providing the reader with a new way of seeing. It is a book that will stay with you for a very long time.
It is not often a blind man writes a book, and “write” is a word used due to the lack of a better. John M. Hull gradually lost his sight, registering as blind in 1980, a couple of days before the birth of his son. Although anticipating the event, John struggled to come to terms with his new circumstances and adjust to a new way of living. From 1983 through to 1985, John recorded his thoughts on tape, in diary form, as a way to ascertain and understand his predicament. Originally titled <I>Touching the Rock</I> (1990), John’s book has been republished as <I>Notes on Blindness</i> after the release of the film of the same name.
Initially, John made recordings every day, dictating the everyday occurrences he encountered. Amazingly, despite his disability, John was able to continue as a university lecturer and delve deeper into the world of theology. The way John thinks things through as he speaks reflects his academic abilities. Although he may have despaired at the thoughts of not being able to see his children, he had a fairly positive outlook on life.
John’s thought capacity and religious ideology are evident in his assemblage of diary entries. As a blind person, he learns to see the world in an alternative way, and often feels closer to God as a result. Through these new experiences, John begins to see the light despite the darkness.
The metaphorical descriptions of blindness help the reader to understand the horror and difficulties not being able to see visually provokes. This is heightened by John’s recordings of the bad dreams he often suffers, in which he is able to see. His fixations on these dreams are assumedly a fascination with visual imagery, which he does not have access to in his waking life.
It is hard not feel sorry for John as he reports the conversations he has with his young children. The effort to communicate and play with them is far greater than a seeing parent. Remarkably, as John begins to adjust to his new lifestyle, his children take the situation in their stride.
<i>Notes on Blindness</i> is also an educational narrative for those without sight problems. John explains the things other people, in attempts to be helpful, do that result in making things far more confusing for John as he tries to navigate his way from one place to another. Despite what most think, blind people are fairly good at walking routes they are familiar with, and, with the help of a stick, can safely travel through new areas. Once people start shouting instructions, it is difficult to pay attention to the location and listen to everyone else at the same time.
John’s voice is extremely articulate, and his thoughts profound, which may suggest heavy editing when compiling the recordings into written form. However, as he is an academician, his eloquence of speech does not feel forced or faked.
<i>Notes on Blindness</i> remains the same as the original publication but with the added inclusion of an introduction by Cathy Rentzenbrink, and an epilogue by his wife Marilyn, written in 2016, a year after his death. These, the latter in particular, provide an insight into how John’s blindness affected those around him and emphasises what a truly remarkable man he was.
Of the many memoirs available on bookshelves today,<i> Notes on Blindness</i> is a truly unique publication. It is not telling a story, or recounting a well-lived life, but gives great insight into the world of the blind. As John’s thoughts were not originally recorded with intention of being available to everyone, they are all the more personal and honest, provoking emotion and providing the reader with a new way of seeing. It is a book that will stay with you for a very long time.
Hazel (1853 KP) rated In a Land of Paper Gods in Books
Dec 17, 2018
<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.
“My name is Henrietta S. Robertson. That’s my English name… My Chinese name is Ming-Mei.”</i>
As the child of members of the Interior Alliance Mission, Henrietta has grown up between two cultures: English and Chinese. From the age of six she was sent to boarding school on a mountain in the Jiangxi Province, where four years later she remains as a small, pale, lonely girl.
For a girl as young as ten, Etta has a big imagination. She decides that God has called her to be a prophetess, and encourages the other girls in Dormitory A to join her in a Prophetess Club. This results is Etta getting into all sorts of trouble as she naively goes about inventing prophecies; all the while the Second Sino-Japanese War gets closer and closer to their mountain sanctuary.
Told mostly from Etta’s point of view, <i>In a Land of Paper Gods</i> is a hilarious historical novel about a young girl’s innocence. A large part of the story is about the missionary school rather than the ongoing war, therefore the focus is on Etta’s interpretation of the bible and her understanding of the differences between Western Christian and Chinese culture. However, once America joins the war effort, it is shockingly quick how the tale can go from humorous to heartbreaking.
The other character who plays a large part in this novel is Muriel, a dorm aunty, whom Etta regards highly. Muriel wanted to be a missionary but instead has found herself working at the Lushan school, keeping an eye on the ten and eleven year old girls. Although most of the book is written in Etta’s first person narrative, Rebecca Mackenzie has also included the occasional diary entry from Aunty Muriel. Since these are so few, it is not clear what their purpose is, as the story could easily continue without them.
Despite being an historical novel, <i>In a Land of Paper Gods </i>focuses less on fact and more on the impact the times had on a young girl. It is interesting to see the character development of Etta as she goes from a naughty, attention-seeking schoolgirl, to a young woman who must fend for herself. All the while she has her belief in God to resort to for explanations about the world she is living in. The reader also witnesses the growth of a relationship between Aunty Muriel and Etta. To begin with it is that of an adult and child, however it ends with them being equals in their suffering.
<i>In a Land of Paper Gods</i> is a pleasure to read. It is comically entertaining to begin with as the reader grows to love the characters, particularly mischievous Etta. It is hard to put the book down due to pure delight of the storyline, yet when the story turns darker it is just as difficult to put down, as we want to find out if the characters are going to be okay.
For some people, the Christian content will not mean anything, however it is possible to enjoy the novel without a religious background. For those, like myself, who do have a Christian upbringing, this aspect makes the story even better. Readers may recognize themselves or of their childhood in Etta, particularly her understanding of the bible.
Overall I loved this book. I was not sure what to expect, and have often found historical novels set in China to be rather dull. Therefore I was pleasantly surprised to discover how good this book was. I encourage others to read <i>In a Land of Paper Gods</i>, and I look forward to reading what Mackenzie writes next.
“My name is Henrietta S. Robertson. That’s my English name… My Chinese name is Ming-Mei.”</i>
As the child of members of the Interior Alliance Mission, Henrietta has grown up between two cultures: English and Chinese. From the age of six she was sent to boarding school on a mountain in the Jiangxi Province, where four years later she remains as a small, pale, lonely girl.
For a girl as young as ten, Etta has a big imagination. She decides that God has called her to be a prophetess, and encourages the other girls in Dormitory A to join her in a Prophetess Club. This results is Etta getting into all sorts of trouble as she naively goes about inventing prophecies; all the while the Second Sino-Japanese War gets closer and closer to their mountain sanctuary.
Told mostly from Etta’s point of view, <i>In a Land of Paper Gods</i> is a hilarious historical novel about a young girl’s innocence. A large part of the story is about the missionary school rather than the ongoing war, therefore the focus is on Etta’s interpretation of the bible and her understanding of the differences between Western Christian and Chinese culture. However, once America joins the war effort, it is shockingly quick how the tale can go from humorous to heartbreaking.
The other character who plays a large part in this novel is Muriel, a dorm aunty, whom Etta regards highly. Muriel wanted to be a missionary but instead has found herself working at the Lushan school, keeping an eye on the ten and eleven year old girls. Although most of the book is written in Etta’s first person narrative, Rebecca Mackenzie has also included the occasional diary entry from Aunty Muriel. Since these are so few, it is not clear what their purpose is, as the story could easily continue without them.
Despite being an historical novel, <i>In a Land of Paper Gods </i>focuses less on fact and more on the impact the times had on a young girl. It is interesting to see the character development of Etta as she goes from a naughty, attention-seeking schoolgirl, to a young woman who must fend for herself. All the while she has her belief in God to resort to for explanations about the world she is living in. The reader also witnesses the growth of a relationship between Aunty Muriel and Etta. To begin with it is that of an adult and child, however it ends with them being equals in their suffering.
<i>In a Land of Paper Gods</i> is a pleasure to read. It is comically entertaining to begin with as the reader grows to love the characters, particularly mischievous Etta. It is hard to put the book down due to pure delight of the storyline, yet when the story turns darker it is just as difficult to put down, as we want to find out if the characters are going to be okay.
For some people, the Christian content will not mean anything, however it is possible to enjoy the novel without a religious background. For those, like myself, who do have a Christian upbringing, this aspect makes the story even better. Readers may recognize themselves or of their childhood in Etta, particularly her understanding of the bible.
Overall I loved this book. I was not sure what to expect, and have often found historical novels set in China to be rather dull. Therefore I was pleasantly surprised to discover how good this book was. I encourage others to read <i>In a Land of Paper Gods</i>, and I look forward to reading what Mackenzie writes next.
Hazel (1853 KP) rated Flame in the Mist in Books
Dec 17, 2018
<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.</i>
Famed for her highly rated <i>The Wrath & The Dawn</i>, Renée Ahdieh has created a new fantasy world full of original characters. Set in a land similar to the Middle Eastern countries we are familiar with, <i>Flame in the Mist</i> incorporates out-dated ideology, ancient lifestyle with a hint of supernatural, and, of course – it is a Young Adult novel after all – a dash of romance. With an eclectic mix of themes, it is a book without cessation of adventure.
The protagonist, Hattori Mariko, at the mere age of 17, is destined to marry the son of the Emperor’s favourite concubine, Prince Raidan. The book commences with the journey from her home, however, Mariko never makes it to the city. Ambushed and presumed dead, Mariko is alone in the dangerous forest, at risk of being discovered by the infamous Black Clan. Instead of waiting for rescue, Mariko, fed up of women being treated as inferior to men, decides she does not want to go home, nor does she want to marry the prince. Her only remaining option is to locate the Black Clan and discover who attempted to murder her. But for this to work, she needs to convince everyone she is a boy.
Whilst Mariko is worming her way into the clan, her twin brother is determined to track down and rescue his sister. Unbeknownst to him, Mariko is beginning to feel more affiliated with their enemies than with her own family. And so a dilemma arises. Does Mariko betray her new “friends” or be unfaithful to the brother she loves?
<i>Flame in the Mist</i> is not only about Mariko’s predicament; it also concerns an age-old feud between powerful families, involving the wrongful death of a disgraced Samurai. As the younger generation reach maturity, they determine to avenge the deaths of their fathers, and, without knowing, Mariko ends up in the centre of two warring parties.
It is a little difficult to get into the story initially; many characters are introduced, but their significance is not obvious for some time. To add to the confusion, vital persons are only formally presented at the end of the novel, which finishes on a cliffhanger. The similarity of the foreign sounding names also creates uncertainty.
Ahdieh cleverly includes a problematic situation that our own world has (almost) overcome. Mariko represents the female population, a gender that is believed to be inferior to their male counterparts. Controlled by fathers, husbands, and powerful leaders, women do not have the opportunity to make their own decisions about their lives. Although it is disconcerting that someone wishes to take Mariko’s life, the ambush provides her with the freedom and chance to prove women are as capable as men. Sadly, she has to pretend to be a boy in order to do this.
It was inevitable that there would be a love interest in <i>Flame in the Mist</i>, however, it is not as inspiring as readers may hope for. The attraction between Mariko and a member of the Black Clan almost comes out of nowhere. Not only was Mariko believed to be male for a wide stretch of the novel, the character in question was one of the more abusive.
<i>Flame in the Mist</i> being the first novel I have read by Renée Ahdieh, I have nothing with which to compare it or state why it is readers particularly admire her writing. The story was mediocre at best, with very little characters that garner respect. Having been published less than a month ago, there is already a lot of hype surrounding this book – either I am missing something vital, or readers are going to be disappointed.
Famed for her highly rated <i>The Wrath & The Dawn</i>, Renée Ahdieh has created a new fantasy world full of original characters. Set in a land similar to the Middle Eastern countries we are familiar with, <i>Flame in the Mist</i> incorporates out-dated ideology, ancient lifestyle with a hint of supernatural, and, of course – it is a Young Adult novel after all – a dash of romance. With an eclectic mix of themes, it is a book without cessation of adventure.
The protagonist, Hattori Mariko, at the mere age of 17, is destined to marry the son of the Emperor’s favourite concubine, Prince Raidan. The book commences with the journey from her home, however, Mariko never makes it to the city. Ambushed and presumed dead, Mariko is alone in the dangerous forest, at risk of being discovered by the infamous Black Clan. Instead of waiting for rescue, Mariko, fed up of women being treated as inferior to men, decides she does not want to go home, nor does she want to marry the prince. Her only remaining option is to locate the Black Clan and discover who attempted to murder her. But for this to work, she needs to convince everyone she is a boy.
Whilst Mariko is worming her way into the clan, her twin brother is determined to track down and rescue his sister. Unbeknownst to him, Mariko is beginning to feel more affiliated with their enemies than with her own family. And so a dilemma arises. Does Mariko betray her new “friends” or be unfaithful to the brother she loves?
<i>Flame in the Mist</i> is not only about Mariko’s predicament; it also concerns an age-old feud between powerful families, involving the wrongful death of a disgraced Samurai. As the younger generation reach maturity, they determine to avenge the deaths of their fathers, and, without knowing, Mariko ends up in the centre of two warring parties.
It is a little difficult to get into the story initially; many characters are introduced, but their significance is not obvious for some time. To add to the confusion, vital persons are only formally presented at the end of the novel, which finishes on a cliffhanger. The similarity of the foreign sounding names also creates uncertainty.
Ahdieh cleverly includes a problematic situation that our own world has (almost) overcome. Mariko represents the female population, a gender that is believed to be inferior to their male counterparts. Controlled by fathers, husbands, and powerful leaders, women do not have the opportunity to make their own decisions about their lives. Although it is disconcerting that someone wishes to take Mariko’s life, the ambush provides her with the freedom and chance to prove women are as capable as men. Sadly, she has to pretend to be a boy in order to do this.
It was inevitable that there would be a love interest in <i>Flame in the Mist</i>, however, it is not as inspiring as readers may hope for. The attraction between Mariko and a member of the Black Clan almost comes out of nowhere. Not only was Mariko believed to be male for a wide stretch of the novel, the character in question was one of the more abusive.
<i>Flame in the Mist</i> being the first novel I have read by Renée Ahdieh, I have nothing with which to compare it or state why it is readers particularly admire her writing. The story was mediocre at best, with very little characters that garner respect. Having been published less than a month ago, there is already a lot of hype surrounding this book – either I am missing something vital, or readers are going to be disappointed.
<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.</i>
A spectacle of celebrity, talent and burning ambition, <i>Queen Bees</i> combines the biographical stories of six ambitious women who helped to shape the standards of British society between the two world wars. Londoner Siân Evans is a cultural historian who has previously worked with the <i>Victoria and Albert Museum, National Trust </i>and <i>Design Museum</i>, and takes great lengths to thoroughly research into her written subject in order to portray a highly accurate insight to the lives of historical figures. Due to the non-existent political status of women in the early 1900s, the women featured in this book are virtually unknown today, yet they had a great impact during the 20s and 30s and helped to shape the Britain of today.
Although not necessarily born into it, circumstances such as marriage meant these six women were regarded as upper class. In no particular order, the names impacting on the social revolution and thus featured in <i>Queen Bees</i> are as follows: Lady Nancy Astor, the first female MP; Lady Sybil Colefax, who became a friend of Edward VIII; Lady Emerald Cunard, also connected with the royal family; Mrs. Ronnie Greville, a rather formidable woman; Lady Edith Londonderry, the founder of the Women’s Legion; and Laura Corrigan, the youngest of the set. Evans talks the reader through these women’s careers as professional hostesses as they compete to throw the better party, entertaining famous writers and actors as well as members of royalty, both national and foreign.
What is perhaps the most interesting, and indeed the most worth learning, is the way a couple of these women altered the future of the British monarchy. Without their interference the future George VI would never have married Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, and without their involvement in the relationship between Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson, George VI would never have come to the throne. This is such an important aspect of British history that has been widely left out and ignored. Without these hostesses influence we would all be experiencing a slightly different life.
In terms of the actual writing, Siân Evans manages fairly well to engage the reader as she relates the factual story in a more or less chronological way. A slight issue is the quick, often undetected, move from one woman to the next, resulting in a lot of confusion about who is who particularly at the beginning of the book. A lot of the narrative features other key figures from the same period and often moves away from the main characters, which, whilst interesting, is not what the reader necessarily expected from a book whose title <i>Queen Bees</i> suggested it was only going to be about the women’s lives.
Footnotes, quotes and extracts from letters and diaries help to make the book appear reliable, factual and believable. Some of the content, without back up, would have seemed rather fanciful or exaggerated. <i>Queen Bees</i> can be read as a source of entertainment or as a citation for historical research. What is found within these pages is a more unbiased account of the early twentieth century than would be found in numerous male dominated history textbooks.
Mature readers of all ages are likely to gain something from reading <i>Queen Bees</i> – pleasure, knowledge etc., however it is most likely to appeal to the contemporary feminist. With this in mind, be aware that the six hostesses were not feminists of their time; they were not involved in Suffragette movements and were fairly content to live off money earned by their husbands or fathers. Yet, on the other hand, they impacted on the future of Britain as much as the male politicians of the time. Highly political in content, <i>Queen Bees </i>is worth reading to discover our own history, but be prepared for initial confusion over who is who and rather lengthy paragraphs.
A spectacle of celebrity, talent and burning ambition, <i>Queen Bees</i> combines the biographical stories of six ambitious women who helped to shape the standards of British society between the two world wars. Londoner Siân Evans is a cultural historian who has previously worked with the <i>Victoria and Albert Museum, National Trust </i>and <i>Design Museum</i>, and takes great lengths to thoroughly research into her written subject in order to portray a highly accurate insight to the lives of historical figures. Due to the non-existent political status of women in the early 1900s, the women featured in this book are virtually unknown today, yet they had a great impact during the 20s and 30s and helped to shape the Britain of today.
Although not necessarily born into it, circumstances such as marriage meant these six women were regarded as upper class. In no particular order, the names impacting on the social revolution and thus featured in <i>Queen Bees</i> are as follows: Lady Nancy Astor, the first female MP; Lady Sybil Colefax, who became a friend of Edward VIII; Lady Emerald Cunard, also connected with the royal family; Mrs. Ronnie Greville, a rather formidable woman; Lady Edith Londonderry, the founder of the Women’s Legion; and Laura Corrigan, the youngest of the set. Evans talks the reader through these women’s careers as professional hostesses as they compete to throw the better party, entertaining famous writers and actors as well as members of royalty, both national and foreign.
What is perhaps the most interesting, and indeed the most worth learning, is the way a couple of these women altered the future of the British monarchy. Without their interference the future George VI would never have married Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, and without their involvement in the relationship between Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson, George VI would never have come to the throne. This is such an important aspect of British history that has been widely left out and ignored. Without these hostesses influence we would all be experiencing a slightly different life.
In terms of the actual writing, Siân Evans manages fairly well to engage the reader as she relates the factual story in a more or less chronological way. A slight issue is the quick, often undetected, move from one woman to the next, resulting in a lot of confusion about who is who particularly at the beginning of the book. A lot of the narrative features other key figures from the same period and often moves away from the main characters, which, whilst interesting, is not what the reader necessarily expected from a book whose title <i>Queen Bees</i> suggested it was only going to be about the women’s lives.
Footnotes, quotes and extracts from letters and diaries help to make the book appear reliable, factual and believable. Some of the content, without back up, would have seemed rather fanciful or exaggerated. <i>Queen Bees</i> can be read as a source of entertainment or as a citation for historical research. What is found within these pages is a more unbiased account of the early twentieth century than would be found in numerous male dominated history textbooks.
Mature readers of all ages are likely to gain something from reading <i>Queen Bees</i> – pleasure, knowledge etc., however it is most likely to appeal to the contemporary feminist. With this in mind, be aware that the six hostesses were not feminists of their time; they were not involved in Suffragette movements and were fairly content to live off money earned by their husbands or fathers. Yet, on the other hand, they impacted on the future of Britain as much as the male politicians of the time. Highly political in content, <i>Queen Bees </i>is worth reading to discover our own history, but be prepared for initial confusion over who is who and rather lengthy paragraphs.
Heather Cranmer (2721 KP) rated Good Girl, Bad Girl in Books
Aug 8, 2019
While browsing the books in my local library, I stumbled across Good Girl, Bad Girl by Michael Robotham. I was instantly intrigued by the synopsis. A teenager with a mysterious past, yes please! A murder mystery, heck yes! Good Girl, Bad Girl did not disappoint.
I felt like the synopsis was wrong a little. The story doesn't focus on Evie as much as the synopsis makes it seem. Good Girl, Bad Girl does start out focused on Evie though. No one knows Evie's past or even how old Evie really is. All anyone knows is that Evie knows when another person is lying. From there, the book seemed like it was going to be a paranormal read, but it wasn't. Not very long after we are introduced to Evie, we learn about Jodie Sheehan, a 15 year old girl who was a very talented figure skater and the girl next door type. When Jodie is found murdered, psychologist Cyrus Haven starts to piece together Jodie's life before her murder and realizes that she wasn't as squeaky clean as everyone thought she was which puts Cyrus and others in danger. Jodie Sheehan's life and murder is what Good Girl, Bad Girl mainly focuses on throughout the novel.
I did enjoy the plot, and I found it to be very intriguing. There were quite a few plot twists peppered throughout Good Girl, Bad Girl that I never predicted. I would think I had the story figured out, but then there would be another fantastic twist that always had me second guessing myself. All my questions were answered about Jodie's disappearance and murder, but I still was left wondering about Evie and her past. Michael Robotham leaves Evie a mystery on purpose, but I would have liked some closure on knowing Evie's past. It's obvious she remembers somewhat. (Goodreads has Good Girl, Bad Girl as a series, but I can't find anything on the actual cover of the book or on any book retailer that has this book as part of a series. I really hope it will be a series though so I can learn more about Evie.) One good thing about this book is that there are no cliff hanger endings. Also, the pacing is done fantastically throughout Good Girl, Bad Girl. This was one book that I really couldn't put down. I'd say it could even be read in one sitting. It is just so good, and it flows so well!
I felt like all the characters, even the supporting ones, were very well written and very fleshed out in Good Girl, Bad Girl. I liked the character of Evie. I liked the fact she was this mysterious force to be reckoned with. She was pretty hardcore, yet she still had that childlike vulnerability about her. I really enjoyed the character of Cyrus. He was such a fantastic main character. He had been dealt a bad hand, but he was able to rise above it. I thought it was fantastic to read about how much he cared for Evie as well as his perseverance to learn the truth about Jodie even when the police were ready to close the case.
Trigger warnings for Good Girl, Bad Girl include violence, drugs, drinking (both adult and underage), sexual references, profanity, death, abduction, attempted murder, and attempted rape.
Overall, Good Girl, Bad Girl is such a fun and thrilling read! I can't fault this book at all. It's got such a great plot as well as fantastic characters with interesting backstories. The plot twists will definitely keep you guessing throughout. I would wholeheartedly recommend Good Girl, Bad Girl by Michael Robotham to those aged 17+ who love thrilling and suspenseful novels. You will not be disappointed.
I felt like the synopsis was wrong a little. The story doesn't focus on Evie as much as the synopsis makes it seem. Good Girl, Bad Girl does start out focused on Evie though. No one knows Evie's past or even how old Evie really is. All anyone knows is that Evie knows when another person is lying. From there, the book seemed like it was going to be a paranormal read, but it wasn't. Not very long after we are introduced to Evie, we learn about Jodie Sheehan, a 15 year old girl who was a very talented figure skater and the girl next door type. When Jodie is found murdered, psychologist Cyrus Haven starts to piece together Jodie's life before her murder and realizes that she wasn't as squeaky clean as everyone thought she was which puts Cyrus and others in danger. Jodie Sheehan's life and murder is what Good Girl, Bad Girl mainly focuses on throughout the novel.
I did enjoy the plot, and I found it to be very intriguing. There were quite a few plot twists peppered throughout Good Girl, Bad Girl that I never predicted. I would think I had the story figured out, but then there would be another fantastic twist that always had me second guessing myself. All my questions were answered about Jodie's disappearance and murder, but I still was left wondering about Evie and her past. Michael Robotham leaves Evie a mystery on purpose, but I would have liked some closure on knowing Evie's past. It's obvious she remembers somewhat. (Goodreads has Good Girl, Bad Girl as a series, but I can't find anything on the actual cover of the book or on any book retailer that has this book as part of a series. I really hope it will be a series though so I can learn more about Evie.) One good thing about this book is that there are no cliff hanger endings. Also, the pacing is done fantastically throughout Good Girl, Bad Girl. This was one book that I really couldn't put down. I'd say it could even be read in one sitting. It is just so good, and it flows so well!
I felt like all the characters, even the supporting ones, were very well written and very fleshed out in Good Girl, Bad Girl. I liked the character of Evie. I liked the fact she was this mysterious force to be reckoned with. She was pretty hardcore, yet she still had that childlike vulnerability about her. I really enjoyed the character of Cyrus. He was such a fantastic main character. He had been dealt a bad hand, but he was able to rise above it. I thought it was fantastic to read about how much he cared for Evie as well as his perseverance to learn the truth about Jodie even when the police were ready to close the case.
Trigger warnings for Good Girl, Bad Girl include violence, drugs, drinking (both adult and underage), sexual references, profanity, death, abduction, attempted murder, and attempted rape.
Overall, Good Girl, Bad Girl is such a fun and thrilling read! I can't fault this book at all. It's got such a great plot as well as fantastic characters with interesting backstories. The plot twists will definitely keep you guessing throughout. I would wholeheartedly recommend Good Girl, Bad Girl by Michael Robotham to those aged 17+ who love thrilling and suspenseful novels. You will not be disappointed.
Hazel (1853 KP) rated God: A Human History in Books
Nov 5, 2017
An Ambiguous History
I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.
Where did religion come from? This is the question Reza Aslan, a scholar of religions, attempts to answer in his latest publication, God: A Human History. To date, Aslan has tackled subjects such as the life of Jesus of Nazareth, and the origins, evolution and future of Islam. In this book, the author journeys back to the earliest evidence of human existence and, using a mix of resources, theories and investigations, tries to determine how our ancestors conceived the idea of gods and souls. Maintaining the idea that the majority of humans think of God as a divine version of ourselves, Aslan also looks at the way our perception of life after death has altered due to the changes in our governments and cultures.
Reza Aslan claims that he, a Muslim-devout-Christian-convert-turned-Sufi, is neither trying to prove or disprove the existence of God or gods. Instead, he is providing readers with a thorough history of religion with a strong suggestion that we, as believers, have fashioned God in our image, and not the other way around.
Insisting that belief systems are inherited from each previous generation, Aslan takes a look at ancient cave drawings where he, and many other theorists, surmise that a form of religion was already well underway. Lack of written word results in a lot of speculation and hypothesis as to what these, usually animal-like, drawings represent, however, many have come to the conclusion that early humans had some form of animistic belief system.
Although not a dig at religion, after all, the author is religious himself, the following chapters bring in to question the authenticity of past and present beliefs. With reference to various psychologists, Aslan poses the theory that ancient humans may have misinterpreted dreams as evidence of a spirit realm. With no one qualified to clarify the things they did not understand, anything without a clear explanation may have been attributed to a god or gods.
As the author describes how religious ideas may have developed from these primitive beliefs to the fully detailed faiths of today, he labels the human race as anthropocentric creatures that have based their religions on human traits and emotions. By reporting in this way, it comes across that the past ideas of the soul, spiritual realms, gods and so forth could not possibly be true, yet, as the final chapters suggest, Aslan is still adamant about the existence of God.
Aslan’s narrative speeds up, finally reaching the recognizable religions of today. Beginning with the Israelites, enslaved by the Egyptians, the author explains, using biblical references, how the first successful monotheistic religion came about. However, researchers have studied the early Bible texts and are inconclusive as to whether the God worshipped by the Jews was the only divine being or whether there were others of a similar standing.
Next, Aslan explores Christianity, posing more questions than he solves, for example, is God one or is God three (i.e. the Holy Trinity)? He defines and compares the definitions of monotheism and pantheism, eventually bringing in Islam and the development of Sufism, which he is not afraid of admitting he agrees with.
God: A Human History is disappointingly short, ending with the feeble conclusion that humans are born with the ability to be convinced of the existence of a divine being and the soul, but it is our own choice to decide whether or not to believe in them. The remaining third of the book is an abundance of notes on the texts, bibliographical references, and Reza Aslan’s personal opinions about the ideas and theories mentioned in his history of religion.
Although an extensive history on the origins of religion, God: A Human History leaves readers none the wiser as to whether their belief is founded in truth or whether it is something that has evolved over time due to lack of understanding about the world. Granted, it was not the aim of the book to prove or disprove the existence of God, however, it may unintentionally sow seeds of doubt or, potentially, anger devout believers. However, there is no attempt at persuading readers to believe one thing or another, thus making it suitable for people of all religion and none.
Where did religion come from? This is the question Reza Aslan, a scholar of religions, attempts to answer in his latest publication, God: A Human History. To date, Aslan has tackled subjects such as the life of Jesus of Nazareth, and the origins, evolution and future of Islam. In this book, the author journeys back to the earliest evidence of human existence and, using a mix of resources, theories and investigations, tries to determine how our ancestors conceived the idea of gods and souls. Maintaining the idea that the majority of humans think of God as a divine version of ourselves, Aslan also looks at the way our perception of life after death has altered due to the changes in our governments and cultures.
Reza Aslan claims that he, a Muslim-devout-Christian-convert-turned-Sufi, is neither trying to prove or disprove the existence of God or gods. Instead, he is providing readers with a thorough history of religion with a strong suggestion that we, as believers, have fashioned God in our image, and not the other way around.
Insisting that belief systems are inherited from each previous generation, Aslan takes a look at ancient cave drawings where he, and many other theorists, surmise that a form of religion was already well underway. Lack of written word results in a lot of speculation and hypothesis as to what these, usually animal-like, drawings represent, however, many have come to the conclusion that early humans had some form of animistic belief system.
Although not a dig at religion, after all, the author is religious himself, the following chapters bring in to question the authenticity of past and present beliefs. With reference to various psychologists, Aslan poses the theory that ancient humans may have misinterpreted dreams as evidence of a spirit realm. With no one qualified to clarify the things they did not understand, anything without a clear explanation may have been attributed to a god or gods.
As the author describes how religious ideas may have developed from these primitive beliefs to the fully detailed faiths of today, he labels the human race as anthropocentric creatures that have based their religions on human traits and emotions. By reporting in this way, it comes across that the past ideas of the soul, spiritual realms, gods and so forth could not possibly be true, yet, as the final chapters suggest, Aslan is still adamant about the existence of God.
Aslan’s narrative speeds up, finally reaching the recognizable religions of today. Beginning with the Israelites, enslaved by the Egyptians, the author explains, using biblical references, how the first successful monotheistic religion came about. However, researchers have studied the early Bible texts and are inconclusive as to whether the God worshipped by the Jews was the only divine being or whether there were others of a similar standing.
Next, Aslan explores Christianity, posing more questions than he solves, for example, is God one or is God three (i.e. the Holy Trinity)? He defines and compares the definitions of monotheism and pantheism, eventually bringing in Islam and the development of Sufism, which he is not afraid of admitting he agrees with.
God: A Human History is disappointingly short, ending with the feeble conclusion that humans are born with the ability to be convinced of the existence of a divine being and the soul, but it is our own choice to decide whether or not to believe in them. The remaining third of the book is an abundance of notes on the texts, bibliographical references, and Reza Aslan’s personal opinions about the ideas and theories mentioned in his history of religion.
Although an extensive history on the origins of religion, God: A Human History leaves readers none the wiser as to whether their belief is founded in truth or whether it is something that has evolved over time due to lack of understanding about the world. Granted, it was not the aim of the book to prove or disprove the existence of God, however, it may unintentionally sow seeds of doubt or, potentially, anger devout believers. However, there is no attempt at persuading readers to believe one thing or another, thus making it suitable for people of all religion and none.
Hazel (1853 KP) rated A Notable Woman: The Romantic Journals of Jean Lucey Pratt in Books
May 25, 2017
Looooong
I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.
Whilst researching a previous book, Simon Garfield came across the diaries of Jean Lucey Pratt amongst journals collected during the Second World War for Mass Observation. Intrigued by her observations and character, Garfield became determined to learn more about her. After eventually receiving permission from Jean’s niece, he was able to read all forty-five of her diaries, edit them, and produce this huge manuscript for publication: A Notable Woman.
Jean began writing her journals in the April of 1925 at the young age of fifteen. Although she did not write everyday, she continued putting down her thoughts and experiences up until her death in 1986. Jean Lucey Pratt was not a celebrity, although she did write an, unfortunately, unsuccessful book; nor did she achieve anything spectacular during her lifetime. What makes her diaries worth publishing is the fact that she was “ordinary,” a woman who wrote not to impress other people, but to honestly express her emotions and opinions.
For the majority of her life Jean lived on her own in Burnham Beeches, Buckinghamshire, where she yearned for a husband. Her dreams of finding the perfect man yet only attracting a handful of lovers is both amusing and saddening. The most interesting part of her written records, however, has got to be the experiences of war. Unlike other diarist such as Anne Frank, who feared for their lives, or those that experienced the fighting up front, Jean provides the perspective of the average British citizen. She comments on the rationing, the blackout curtains as well as the political propaganda, providing her own opinions, which often changed as the war progressed. Jean amuses the reader by revealing she often slept through an air raid, only waking up at the sound of the All Clear.
The war ends midway through the book, thus delivering accounts of the latter half of her life, from career to ill health, incorporating in family events and, of course, her enormous horde of cats. Although a rather introverted, lonely individual, Jean’s relationship and love for her brother is often heartwarming. Separated by oceans and only seeing him every so many years, it is clear that the siblings are strongly supportive of each other. Jean often refers to her brother as Pooh (as in Winnie the Pooh), to which he responds by calling her Piglet.
Initially Jean did not intend to let anyone read her diaries but later began to imagine how other people would react to what she had written. She toyed with the idea of posthumous publication, but presumed only family and friends would read them – how wrong she was! Regardless of whether her diaries were to be viewed by outsiders or not, Jean usually referred to people by their initials. Whether she did this for a particular reason or merely to save time when writing remains debatable, however it does cause a bit of confusion when reading. Helpfully the editor, Garfield, has provided a character list that can be referred back to as needed.
Simon Garfield has done a magnificent job of compiling the diary entries together to produce an interesting, moving and occasionally amusing story about life during the 1900s. He has painstakingly sorted through handwritten entries, deciding what bits to omit and conducting further research in order to explain in footnotes the sections or references that would not make sense if left alone. Garfield has made the majority of Jean’s journals flow like a novel, only becoming erratic towards the end of her life when she would only write once every few months.
A Notable Woman gives a fantastic insight into the lives of ordinary people during an era of hardship and change. Readers are more likely to read an accurate description of the war and subsequent years in this book than in any emotionally detached textbook or biased account. Without a doubt this book is worth a read, although do not expect to be able to rush through it as some may do with a work of fiction. Garfield if highly praised for his efforts, and one hopes that Jean would be proud to finally have a writing success.
Whilst researching a previous book, Simon Garfield came across the diaries of Jean Lucey Pratt amongst journals collected during the Second World War for Mass Observation. Intrigued by her observations and character, Garfield became determined to learn more about her. After eventually receiving permission from Jean’s niece, he was able to read all forty-five of her diaries, edit them, and produce this huge manuscript for publication: A Notable Woman.
Jean began writing her journals in the April of 1925 at the young age of fifteen. Although she did not write everyday, she continued putting down her thoughts and experiences up until her death in 1986. Jean Lucey Pratt was not a celebrity, although she did write an, unfortunately, unsuccessful book; nor did she achieve anything spectacular during her lifetime. What makes her diaries worth publishing is the fact that she was “ordinary,” a woman who wrote not to impress other people, but to honestly express her emotions and opinions.
For the majority of her life Jean lived on her own in Burnham Beeches, Buckinghamshire, where she yearned for a husband. Her dreams of finding the perfect man yet only attracting a handful of lovers is both amusing and saddening. The most interesting part of her written records, however, has got to be the experiences of war. Unlike other diarist such as Anne Frank, who feared for their lives, or those that experienced the fighting up front, Jean provides the perspective of the average British citizen. She comments on the rationing, the blackout curtains as well as the political propaganda, providing her own opinions, which often changed as the war progressed. Jean amuses the reader by revealing she often slept through an air raid, only waking up at the sound of the All Clear.
The war ends midway through the book, thus delivering accounts of the latter half of her life, from career to ill health, incorporating in family events and, of course, her enormous horde of cats. Although a rather introverted, lonely individual, Jean’s relationship and love for her brother is often heartwarming. Separated by oceans and only seeing him every so many years, it is clear that the siblings are strongly supportive of each other. Jean often refers to her brother as Pooh (as in Winnie the Pooh), to which he responds by calling her Piglet.
Initially Jean did not intend to let anyone read her diaries but later began to imagine how other people would react to what she had written. She toyed with the idea of posthumous publication, but presumed only family and friends would read them – how wrong she was! Regardless of whether her diaries were to be viewed by outsiders or not, Jean usually referred to people by their initials. Whether she did this for a particular reason or merely to save time when writing remains debatable, however it does cause a bit of confusion when reading. Helpfully the editor, Garfield, has provided a character list that can be referred back to as needed.
Simon Garfield has done a magnificent job of compiling the diary entries together to produce an interesting, moving and occasionally amusing story about life during the 1900s. He has painstakingly sorted through handwritten entries, deciding what bits to omit and conducting further research in order to explain in footnotes the sections or references that would not make sense if left alone. Garfield has made the majority of Jean’s journals flow like a novel, only becoming erratic towards the end of her life when she would only write once every few months.
A Notable Woman gives a fantastic insight into the lives of ordinary people during an era of hardship and change. Readers are more likely to read an accurate description of the war and subsequent years in this book than in any emotionally detached textbook or biased account. Without a doubt this book is worth a read, although do not expect to be able to rush through it as some may do with a work of fiction. Garfield if highly praised for his efforts, and one hopes that Jean would be proud to finally have a writing success.
Haley Mathiot (9 KP) rated They Almost Always Come Home in Books
Apr 27, 2018
They Almost Always Come Home by Cynthia Ruchti
Genre: Christian Fiction
ISBN: 9781426702389
Rating: DNF, 3
Greg goes on a trip into the Canadian wilderness—and never comes home. But Libby was thinking about leaving him anyway… so should she care that he's missing? Should she find him? Libby sets off with her best friend and her step-dad on a journey to find Greg. But for Libby, the journey is more than to find her husband. It's a journey of faith.
They Almost Always Come Home had potential to be amazing. Maybe the ending was amazing… but I didn't get that far. The plot was great—there were a lot of different things woven together to make it complex. It was more than "husband is gone, wife isn't sure if she wants him back but she goes to find him anyway." There is a lot of complexity to the situation, and a lot of background to see how Libby got to where she is now. It was good, and I liked it. It didn't move fast enough for me, but it was still good and I liked it.
However, other aspects of the book took away from the story line, and the main one was the writing. I feel like I have more to say about the writing than anything when it comes to They Almost Always Come Home.
This book reads rather depressing. As I read it, I can hear the voice of the character in my head, feeling tired and broken and uncaring and bitter, and it's very emotionally demanding to read. Since the character is going through so much, I can understand why that is: that's how she feels, that's how you are supposed to feel. It certainly isn't a sit-by-the-beach-with-sweet-tea kind of book.
Also, occasionally (as in the case with every Meg Cabot book I've ever read) an individual has a great original idea for a novel. What they should have done, would be to find someone who could write well and let them write the story, and co-author it. But no, they insist on writing it themselves, even though they can't write. Sadly, this is the case with They Almost Always Come Home. In some cases the mediocrity of the writing doesn't take away from the enjoyment of the book, but in this case, it got to the point where it wore me out and aggravated me, and I had to put it down. After this happened several times, I never ended up picking it back up. The writing was made up of poor sentence structure, and the sentences that were actually sentences weren't organized very well. The interior monologue of Libby's thought-life was even less organized. Yes, I understand that our thoughts are not perfectly organized like Dostoevsky's dialogue, but Libby's mind was just hard to follow.
The other thing that took away from the book was the main character, Libby. I didn't like her. Maybe if I'd gotten to the end and seen her change (because I just know she's got to change—why else would Ruchti write a story like this?) then I 'd like her. But as it were, I was rooting for Greg. Poor Greg who was stuck with her for twenty-five years, and who got out easy (at least that's the way it looked from where I stopped). I know that isn't the way I'm supposed to feel, but I kept thinking "Libby… honestly…(mutters to herself)…" how can you read a book about a character that you don't like?
Again, this book had a lot of potential. Sadly I didn't enjoy it enough to finish it. I give it three-stars for the good pacing at the beginning, and the tangible emotions of the character (who I didn't like…?).
Check out amazon (as of today, 17 five-star reviews) and goodreads for reviews of They Almost Always Come Home. You will see that I am in the minority.
Genre: Christian Fiction
ISBN: 9781426702389
Rating: DNF, 3
Greg goes on a trip into the Canadian wilderness—and never comes home. But Libby was thinking about leaving him anyway… so should she care that he's missing? Should she find him? Libby sets off with her best friend and her step-dad on a journey to find Greg. But for Libby, the journey is more than to find her husband. It's a journey of faith.
They Almost Always Come Home had potential to be amazing. Maybe the ending was amazing… but I didn't get that far. The plot was great—there were a lot of different things woven together to make it complex. It was more than "husband is gone, wife isn't sure if she wants him back but she goes to find him anyway." There is a lot of complexity to the situation, and a lot of background to see how Libby got to where she is now. It was good, and I liked it. It didn't move fast enough for me, but it was still good and I liked it.
However, other aspects of the book took away from the story line, and the main one was the writing. I feel like I have more to say about the writing than anything when it comes to They Almost Always Come Home.
This book reads rather depressing. As I read it, I can hear the voice of the character in my head, feeling tired and broken and uncaring and bitter, and it's very emotionally demanding to read. Since the character is going through so much, I can understand why that is: that's how she feels, that's how you are supposed to feel. It certainly isn't a sit-by-the-beach-with-sweet-tea kind of book.
Also, occasionally (as in the case with every Meg Cabot book I've ever read) an individual has a great original idea for a novel. What they should have done, would be to find someone who could write well and let them write the story, and co-author it. But no, they insist on writing it themselves, even though they can't write. Sadly, this is the case with They Almost Always Come Home. In some cases the mediocrity of the writing doesn't take away from the enjoyment of the book, but in this case, it got to the point where it wore me out and aggravated me, and I had to put it down. After this happened several times, I never ended up picking it back up. The writing was made up of poor sentence structure, and the sentences that were actually sentences weren't organized very well. The interior monologue of Libby's thought-life was even less organized. Yes, I understand that our thoughts are not perfectly organized like Dostoevsky's dialogue, but Libby's mind was just hard to follow.
The other thing that took away from the book was the main character, Libby. I didn't like her. Maybe if I'd gotten to the end and seen her change (because I just know she's got to change—why else would Ruchti write a story like this?) then I 'd like her. But as it were, I was rooting for Greg. Poor Greg who was stuck with her for twenty-five years, and who got out easy (at least that's the way it looked from where I stopped). I know that isn't the way I'm supposed to feel, but I kept thinking "Libby… honestly…(mutters to herself)…" how can you read a book about a character that you don't like?
Again, this book had a lot of potential. Sadly I didn't enjoy it enough to finish it. I give it three-stars for the good pacing at the beginning, and the tangible emotions of the character (who I didn't like…?).
Check out amazon (as of today, 17 five-star reviews) and goodreads for reviews of They Almost Always Come Home. You will see that I am in the minority.