Fairytale of New York by Miranda Dickinson
My son bought me this for Christmas as he knows the song of the same name is one of my all-time favourites. I was intrigued to read the author was a member of Authonomy and this book came through that process. I've never looked much at Authonomy though I was once a member of YouWriteOn which has a similar set-up. I'm always pleased to read of any author finding success through these less than conventional routes.
The book is narrated by Rosie, an English woman living in New York, running a floristry business. She's emotionally scarred from having been jilted at the altar, and is unable to form any new relationships. She meets handsome and charming Nate, who is himself engaged but clearly keen on Rosie. And then there's serial-dater Ed, her best friend and work colleague. When her ex, David, turns up in New York and asks her to do the flowers for his wedding, Rosie has to confront her feelings and learn to move on.
The book is written in a lively style which I've come to associate with the best of chick-lit. So it carries you along nicely. I found a few aspects of the plot seemed a little unbelievable but maybe things are different in New York... The ending was satisfying if a little predictable.
Overall it was a pleasant read - would be a good one to take on a long plane journey when you need a little escapism.
Sunday, 20 March 2011
Thursday, 3 March 2011
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson
Him indoors raved about this book and its sequels. I'm not really into crime novels or thrillers so this was a departure for me.
There was huge hype surrounding this book, maybe partly because the author died after completing the trilogy but before publication.
Hmm. What can I say about this book?
At the beginning I couldn't get into it, but stuck with it because so many people seem to love it. After 200 pages my main thoughts were that if those 200 pages had been edited down to 100 pages, they might be quite reasonable. The plot picked up later on, and at times was intriguing, but the main whodunnit was guessable from an early point. The other crimes, and the ideas behind the novel, are clever and I suppose that's the other aspect that fuelled the hype.
But overall I found the book flabby, with too many sentences along the lines of 'He took off his clothes and went to bed.' Too much pointless detail which didn't move the story on or provide characterisation. The main characters are interesting in a way, but they all talk the same. The dialogue sounds alike whether its the 40-something journalist, the elderly industrialist or the 20-something female Goth computer hacker talking.
There are two further books in the trilogy. Jury's out re whether or not I'll read them. Possibly as holiday reads, skimming over the flabby prose.
Him indoors raved about this book and its sequels. I'm not really into crime novels or thrillers so this was a departure for me.
There was huge hype surrounding this book, maybe partly because the author died after completing the trilogy but before publication.
Hmm. What can I say about this book?
At the beginning I couldn't get into it, but stuck with it because so many people seem to love it. After 200 pages my main thoughts were that if those 200 pages had been edited down to 100 pages, they might be quite reasonable. The plot picked up later on, and at times was intriguing, but the main whodunnit was guessable from an early point. The other crimes, and the ideas behind the novel, are clever and I suppose that's the other aspect that fuelled the hype.
But overall I found the book flabby, with too many sentences along the lines of 'He took off his clothes and went to bed.' Too much pointless detail which didn't move the story on or provide characterisation. The main characters are interesting in a way, but they all talk the same. The dialogue sounds alike whether its the 40-something journalist, the elderly industrialist or the 20-something female Goth computer hacker talking.
There are two further books in the trilogy. Jury's out re whether or not I'll read them. Possibly as holiday reads, skimming over the flabby prose.
Sunday, 20 February 2011
The Greatest Show on Earth
The Greatest Show on Earth by Richard Dawkins
It felt like time for a bit of science, so I picked up this one. I'm a fan of Dawkins' books and have read several of his earlier works. This one's subtitle is The Evidence for Evolution. It seems crazy that here in the 21st century we still need to publish books on this subject, amazing that there are people out there who need convincing of it. Dawkins calls them (the creationists) 'history-deniers' and it is an apt name. What frightens me is that history-deniers, especially in the USA, teach in schools and colleges and run for high political office. Evolution is not a theory any longer - it's proven fact and there is an immense weight of evidence behind it. In my opinion (and Dawkins') only the spectacularly uninformed can argue against it.
Anyway, this book. Dawkins doesn't just argue his points, he demolishes any opposition step by step, systematically and comprehensively. He is a very good science writer, with the ability to lead the reader through some difficult concepts. He's entertaining as well. The book covers a wide range of topics from geology - the dating of rocks (which also dates the fossils in them and proves the earth is far older than the 10,000 years Creationists give it); embryology - how an organism grows from a single cell to a complex creature in just a few months; plate tectonics - explains why all marsupials are found in Australia and nowhere else; microbiology - experiments with generations of bacteria showing evolution happening before our very eyes.
It's all fascinating stuff. There were no ideas in this book which I didn't already know about but I loved reading about the evidence, research and experimentation which back them up. Some bits made me say wow, or laugh out loud. In mammals, there are two nerves running from the brain to the larynx. One goes straight there, the other goes down to the heart, loops around the aorta and back up again. In a giraffe, that's a bloody big detour. It's like that because of the way mammals have evolved from fish, and how each part of the body has evolved from some earlier organ. In sharks, the equivalent nerves don't have a detour. Oh you know what, I'm explaining this really badly - best to read the book yourself. But the point Dawkins is making with this chapter is that a so-called 'intelligent designer' would not have designed mammalian bodies like this. A designer would have gone back to the drawing board and routed the nerve sensibly. But evolution can't do that. It has to make do with tiny, step by step changes, and each change has to be an improvement on the last. So the nerve can't evolve a new route because the intermediate steps would be worse than before, not better. Once it finds itself looped around the aorta it just has to keep stretching as the giraffe's neck lengthens.
And why is the koala's pouch upside down with the opening at the bottom? Bit stupid for an animal who spends its time up trees. But when you discover the koala is evolved from a ground-living wombat-type creature who dug burrows with its front feet it makes perfect sense. You don't want to be shovelling dirt into your pouch, do you, much better to have the pouch opening backwards.
Anyway, I guess Dawkins is preaching to the converted here, if that isn't completely the wrong metaphor. In any case I have to agree with him when he says this.
It felt like time for a bit of science, so I picked up this one. I'm a fan of Dawkins' books and have read several of his earlier works. This one's subtitle is The Evidence for Evolution. It seems crazy that here in the 21st century we still need to publish books on this subject, amazing that there are people out there who need convincing of it. Dawkins calls them (the creationists) 'history-deniers' and it is an apt name. What frightens me is that history-deniers, especially in the USA, teach in schools and colleges and run for high political office. Evolution is not a theory any longer - it's proven fact and there is an immense weight of evidence behind it. In my opinion (and Dawkins') only the spectacularly uninformed can argue against it.
Anyway, this book. Dawkins doesn't just argue his points, he demolishes any opposition step by step, systematically and comprehensively. He is a very good science writer, with the ability to lead the reader through some difficult concepts. He's entertaining as well. The book covers a wide range of topics from geology - the dating of rocks (which also dates the fossils in them and proves the earth is far older than the 10,000 years Creationists give it); embryology - how an organism grows from a single cell to a complex creature in just a few months; plate tectonics - explains why all marsupials are found in Australia and nowhere else; microbiology - experiments with generations of bacteria showing evolution happening before our very eyes.
It's all fascinating stuff. There were no ideas in this book which I didn't already know about but I loved reading about the evidence, research and experimentation which back them up. Some bits made me say wow, or laugh out loud. In mammals, there are two nerves running from the brain to the larynx. One goes straight there, the other goes down to the heart, loops around the aorta and back up again. In a giraffe, that's a bloody big detour. It's like that because of the way mammals have evolved from fish, and how each part of the body has evolved from some earlier organ. In sharks, the equivalent nerves don't have a detour. Oh you know what, I'm explaining this really badly - best to read the book yourself. But the point Dawkins is making with this chapter is that a so-called 'intelligent designer' would not have designed mammalian bodies like this. A designer would have gone back to the drawing board and routed the nerve sensibly. But evolution can't do that. It has to make do with tiny, step by step changes, and each change has to be an improvement on the last. So the nerve can't evolve a new route because the intermediate steps would be worse than before, not better. Once it finds itself looped around the aorta it just has to keep stretching as the giraffe's neck lengthens.
And why is the koala's pouch upside down with the opening at the bottom? Bit stupid for an animal who spends its time up trees. But when you discover the koala is evolved from a ground-living wombat-type creature who dug burrows with its front feet it makes perfect sense. You don't want to be shovelling dirt into your pouch, do you, much better to have the pouch opening backwards.
Anyway, I guess Dawkins is preaching to the converted here, if that isn't completely the wrong metaphor. In any case I have to agree with him when he says this.
Friday, 4 February 2011
The Birth Machine
The Birth Machine by Elizabeth Baines
Came across this one via the blogging circles in which I meander aimlessly when I ought to be writing my novel. I sometimes read the author's blog, and I was fascinated by her tale of how this was published - first in a different version years ago, snapped up by earth-mothers as a plea for natural childbirth which isn't quite what she intended to say with it, and now republished in its original form by Salt, that champion of literary short fiction.
It's beautifully written - the kind of style I've come to expect from Salt (and I've read one of the author's books before). Lyrical and introspective - much of the action takes place within the main character's head: flashback or a new take on old events, from the perspective of a woman in labour?
Zelda is in induced labour, before her due date. They're inducing her as an experiment into inducing for convenience, not because there's anything wrong, although she doesn't know this. She's having lots of drugs pumped into her, and they cause her to return to the past, her childhood, and the murder of a playmate.
I must admit, to me the book read as a plea for natural childbirth, and minimum intervention, even though the author's postscript explains her intended themes. Zelda's experiences are horrible and leave her feeling completely unconnected with her baby - I really felt for her. The book was perhaps slightly dated - it was originally published in 1983. The National Childbirth Trust has come along since then and had an influence - they just don't do things like that anymore. Thank goodness.
I enjoyed the book, its language and imagery, and the delving into Zelda's head and memories, but I couldn't help but think I might have enjoyed the 1983 version more -where you start with Zelda rather than starting with the professor and his theories on induction. You never really see the professor after that first chapter, so I found the beginning of the book a little disjointed.
Came across this one via the blogging circles in which I meander aimlessly when I ought to be writing my novel. I sometimes read the author's blog, and I was fascinated by her tale of how this was published - first in a different version years ago, snapped up by earth-mothers as a plea for natural childbirth which isn't quite what she intended to say with it, and now republished in its original form by Salt, that champion of literary short fiction.
It's beautifully written - the kind of style I've come to expect from Salt (and I've read one of the author's books before). Lyrical and introspective - much of the action takes place within the main character's head: flashback or a new take on old events, from the perspective of a woman in labour?
Zelda is in induced labour, before her due date. They're inducing her as an experiment into inducing for convenience, not because there's anything wrong, although she doesn't know this. She's having lots of drugs pumped into her, and they cause her to return to the past, her childhood, and the murder of a playmate.
I must admit, to me the book read as a plea for natural childbirth, and minimum intervention, even though the author's postscript explains her intended themes. Zelda's experiences are horrible and leave her feeling completely unconnected with her baby - I really felt for her. The book was perhaps slightly dated - it was originally published in 1983. The National Childbirth Trust has come along since then and had an influence - they just don't do things like that anymore. Thank goodness.
I enjoyed the book, its language and imagery, and the delving into Zelda's head and memories, but I couldn't help but think I might have enjoyed the 1983 version more -where you start with Zelda rather than starting with the professor and his theories on induction. You never really see the professor after that first chapter, so I found the beginning of the book a little disjointed.
Thursday, 27 January 2011
The Help
The Help by Kathryn Stockett
Everyone I know who's read this book is raving about it. And I am going to rave too. It is definitely up there in my top 10 books of all time. What a marvellous example of writing in distinctive voices. Best characterisation I've ever come across - those women really come to life.
It's set in Mississippi in the 1960s when, to quote Bob Dylan as the author does: 'the times they are a-changing'. There are three first person viewpoints - two are black maids working for white families, bringing up the children but not allowed to so much as use the same toilet as the whites. The third viewpoint is one of the white women - a young writer who has rather more forward-looking views than her friends. She gets to know the black women and together they write a book about what life is like for the black servants. They're treading on dangerous ground in those days of racial segregation and KKK lynchings.
The use of dialect and the rhythm of the language had me even thinking in a deep south accent after a while. I could feel the heat of the Mississippi summers radiating off the page. It's a truly wonderful book and I can't recommend it highly enough.
Everyone I know who's read this book is raving about it. And I am going to rave too. It is definitely up there in my top 10 books of all time. What a marvellous example of writing in distinctive voices. Best characterisation I've ever come across - those women really come to life.
It's set in Mississippi in the 1960s when, to quote Bob Dylan as the author does: 'the times they are a-changing'. There are three first person viewpoints - two are black maids working for white families, bringing up the children but not allowed to so much as use the same toilet as the whites. The third viewpoint is one of the white women - a young writer who has rather more forward-looking views than her friends. She gets to know the black women and together they write a book about what life is like for the black servants. They're treading on dangerous ground in those days of racial segregation and KKK lynchings.
The use of dialect and the rhythm of the language had me even thinking in a deep south accent after a while. I could feel the heat of the Mississippi summers radiating off the page. It's a truly wonderful book and I can't recommend it highly enough.
Friday, 14 January 2011
The Alchemist's Daughter
The Alchemist's Daughter by Katharine McMahon
I bought this after having read another book by this author - The Rose of Sebastapol, which I'd bought from a charity booksale for 10p, thus proving that such second-hand book sales CAN benefit the author! I was so taken with The Rose that I bought 2 further books by the author from Amazon.
This one's set in the early 1700s. The heroine is Emilie who's been brought up by her alchemist father, pretty much isolated from the rest of the world. When, aged 18, she meets a dashing young man who comes to learn from her father, the inevitable happens and she falls in love. He is only interested in alchemy if it can make him money, but when he meets the pretty young heir to a large estate he sees another way of making money, and seduces her. She falls pregnant and marries him. Her father apparently casts her off, wants nothing more to do with her. She loses the baby and over the next year or two the marriage breaks apart. Emilie's father dies, and so her husband takes over the estate and begins to shape it into the fashionable country retreat he dreams of. He's having an affair with Emilie's maid Sarah, who becomes pregnant. Emilie, meanwhile, is beginning to notice the local rector, a widower who has an interest in scientific experiment (though not alchemy!) She realises her father was right, she's married the wrong man. She sends Sarah away, but then, after nearly blowing herself up in an alchemical experiment, she discovers that she herself was the daughter of a fallen woman who turned up at her father's door, heavily pregnant and very sick. Her father had taken the woman in, and adopted the child. She decides to go to London to find Sarah and help her. Her husband, now broke, goes off in a slaving voyage in an attempt to make his fortune. Emilie finds Sarah, sick and dying but with the help of a midwife manages to save the baby. The ending is open - but we can assume the husband won't make it back and Emilie can make a new life with Sarah's baby and the rector, and an annual allowance her father had set up for her in the event of her husband leaving her....
Ooops, I seem to have given away the entire plot. Well, no one reads this blog anyway. It's a good book, with a reasonably satisfying ending though not as good as The Rose of Sebastapol. I did enjoy the depiction of the early 18th century - a very different feel to it than to the 19th century books I've been reading a lot of lately. The experiments of Emilie and her father bridge the gap between earlier witchcraft and later true science. A very interesting time, and the book came across as well-researched and well-written.
I bought this after having read another book by this author - The Rose of Sebastapol, which I'd bought from a charity booksale for 10p, thus proving that such second-hand book sales CAN benefit the author! I was so taken with The Rose that I bought 2 further books by the author from Amazon.
This one's set in the early 1700s. The heroine is Emilie who's been brought up by her alchemist father, pretty much isolated from the rest of the world. When, aged 18, she meets a dashing young man who comes to learn from her father, the inevitable happens and she falls in love. He is only interested in alchemy if it can make him money, but when he meets the pretty young heir to a large estate he sees another way of making money, and seduces her. She falls pregnant and marries him. Her father apparently casts her off, wants nothing more to do with her. She loses the baby and over the next year or two the marriage breaks apart. Emilie's father dies, and so her husband takes over the estate and begins to shape it into the fashionable country retreat he dreams of. He's having an affair with Emilie's maid Sarah, who becomes pregnant. Emilie, meanwhile, is beginning to notice the local rector, a widower who has an interest in scientific experiment (though not alchemy!) She realises her father was right, she's married the wrong man. She sends Sarah away, but then, after nearly blowing herself up in an alchemical experiment, she discovers that she herself was the daughter of a fallen woman who turned up at her father's door, heavily pregnant and very sick. Her father had taken the woman in, and adopted the child. She decides to go to London to find Sarah and help her. Her husband, now broke, goes off in a slaving voyage in an attempt to make his fortune. Emilie finds Sarah, sick and dying but with the help of a midwife manages to save the baby. The ending is open - but we can assume the husband won't make it back and Emilie can make a new life with Sarah's baby and the rector, and an annual allowance her father had set up for her in the event of her husband leaving her....
Ooops, I seem to have given away the entire plot. Well, no one reads this blog anyway. It's a good book, with a reasonably satisfying ending though not as good as The Rose of Sebastapol. I did enjoy the depiction of the early 18th century - a very different feel to it than to the 19th century books I've been reading a lot of lately. The experiments of Emilie and her father bridge the gap between earlier witchcraft and later true science. A very interesting time, and the book came across as well-researched and well-written.
Monday, 3 January 2011
Christmas Holiday reading
I only read a couple of books on the skiing holiday - too busy drinking vin chaud and going to bed early to nurse my knackered knees to read much. Enjoyed the books I did read though:
Dance Your Way to Psychic Sex by Alice Turing
I can't add a link for this one because it is out of print - the author self-published and only printed a hundred or so copies. I got to hear of it via her blog and thought it the wackiest title I'd ever heard of, so I just had to buy a copy. It's really well-written and certainly quirky. Full of new-age cults and magic and mind-reading and plenty of gay sex. It really isn't possible to do the plot justice in a short review so I won't even try. But I do hope the author writes more books and manages to get a mainstream publisher interested - the world needs her sparky prose and fantastic imagination.
The Winter Ghosts by Kate Mosse
Bought this in a 3 for 2 deal when I was supposed to be buying Christmas presents. It is always dangerous to wander into a bookshop while Christmas shopping. I always end up buying loads for myself. I've previously read Labyrinth which I liked but didn't love, though I can't remember now what it was I didn't love about it, as I always enjoy time-slip novels where historical and present-day stories unfold at the same time. In The Winter Ghosts, it is the 1930s and the hero is still mourning the loss of his brother in the Great War. He finds himself snowbound in an isolated Pyrennees village, and there meets a young woman. They spend the night talking and she helps him to come to terms with his loss. But in the morning she disappears, and he goes searching for her. He uncovers a 700-year old tragic mystery - a community was buried alive in caves in the mountainside...
This is a deliciously creepy, short but satisfying ghost story. Definitely one to read by the fireside during the next snowfall.
Dance Your Way to Psychic Sex by Alice Turing
I can't add a link for this one because it is out of print - the author self-published and only printed a hundred or so copies. I got to hear of it via her blog and thought it the wackiest title I'd ever heard of, so I just had to buy a copy. It's really well-written and certainly quirky. Full of new-age cults and magic and mind-reading and plenty of gay sex. It really isn't possible to do the plot justice in a short review so I won't even try. But I do hope the author writes more books and manages to get a mainstream publisher interested - the world needs her sparky prose and fantastic imagination.
The Winter Ghosts by Kate Mosse
Bought this in a 3 for 2 deal when I was supposed to be buying Christmas presents. It is always dangerous to wander into a bookshop while Christmas shopping. I always end up buying loads for myself. I've previously read Labyrinth which I liked but didn't love, though I can't remember now what it was I didn't love about it, as I always enjoy time-slip novels where historical and present-day stories unfold at the same time. In The Winter Ghosts, it is the 1930s and the hero is still mourning the loss of his brother in the Great War. He finds himself snowbound in an isolated Pyrennees village, and there meets a young woman. They spend the night talking and she helps him to come to terms with his loss. But in the morning she disappears, and he goes searching for her. He uncovers a 700-year old tragic mystery - a community was buried alive in caves in the mountainside...
This is a deliciously creepy, short but satisfying ghost story. Definitely one to read by the fireside during the next snowfall.
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