QuickLit November 2021

 Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy as usual. October was not a big reading month for me. One reason was this (sorry for the bad photo - it's from Messenger):

We bought this puzzle, Breughel the Elder's Children's Games, in the Kunsthistoriches museum, Vienna, in August, and I decided that the advent of autumn was a good time to get it out. It took my husband and I about a week, during which we neglected many other things (like reading). I also learned that a mathematician (husband) has a very different attitude towards doing a puzzle than an arts scholar (me). To me, it was about enjoying the emerging picture, to him, solving the problem as soon as possible. And P.S., if you like doing puzzles, I really recommend a puzzle mat.

The original for a better look.

The second reason was I felt unsettled for most of the month. Maybe it was the approach of the season where we tend to cosy up indoors, but I found myself dipping into two home-oriented books on my shelf/Kindle. Marie Kondo's The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up obviously sparks joy because I still have it on my bookshelf - honestly, I love it as a quirky memoir as well as inspiration for tidying. The other was The House Witch by Arin Murphy-Hiscock. It's new-agey, but I'm a little that way inclined myself, so I like contemplating the spiritual aspect of keeping the hearth, even if I no longer have a house with a physical hearth.

The final reason was my choice of audiobook: 

Jean Auer - Clan of the Cave Bear

I've never read this ground-breaking historical fiction from the 80s, but Chirp a dirt cheap deal, so I gave it a go. It took a little while to get into it, partly because the audio narrator did not seem especially suited to the book, and partly because the actual narrator is some sort of omniscient anthropologist, who gives all the technical and scientific details behind the story. But once I was into it, I was hooked. Usually, I have a reading book on the go at the same time, but I just couldn't think of anything that really complemented reading such a different book for me, so I stuck with this - over 22 hours of audio.

It tells the story of a Cro- Magnon girl, Ayla, rescued after an earthquake by a Neanderthal clan and adopted by their medicine woman and her shamen brother. Although loved by her adoptive family, she is always the outsider, her very DNA making her think and act differently than her new misogyistic tribe, and hated in particular by the clan leader's son. Through her we trace the final struggle taking place between these two branches of humankind. Interestingly, I've seen it described as a precursor to YA dystopias like The Hunger Games.

So there we go. Anyone else ever had the problem of not being able to pair a book and audio book? Are the others in the Clan of the Cave Bear series (Earth's Children) worth reading?

QuickLit October 2021

 Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy as usual. For some reason, I got out of the habit of keeping up my list of books read. Not sure if it signals that I need to perk up my reading life, or just that I'm getting absent minded. Luckily, all my books are on my shelf or Kindle as I'm not living in an English-speaking country, so here's a round-up from last month.

Jennifer Robson - The Gown

This had been on my list of 'I'd read it if it came on sale' books - and my patience was rewarded. It's a three-way story, of two young women, Londoner Ann and Holocaust survivor Miriam who are embroidering the gown for Princess Elizabeth's wedding, and Ann's grandaughter, Heather, who is solving a mystery that Ann left behind.  Although the plot was built on what, to me, was a bit of a flaw (that Ann's daughter never tried to find out anything about her father), I enjoyed the story, particularly the re-creation of postwar Britain. The modern day story, I felt so-so about. The trope of 'person finds photo/jewellery/diary and uncovers mystery' seems a bit ubiquitous nowadays.

Barbara Pym - Crampton Hodnet

Barbara Pym never disappoints with her comedies of manners. This is an early novel, but it was set aside when Pym became involved in war work, and left unedited until after her death, as she felt it was dated. Now, of course, it is a perfect period piece, set in Oxford in the 1930s. Elderly Miss Doggett likes to think she has her finger on the moral pulse of Oxford. She is eager to promote the romance between her great-neice, Anthea and a well-connected young man - and to quash the budding affair between Anthea's father and a young student. But the one liason she does not see is going on right under her nose, between her companion Miss Morrow and lodger, the curate Mr Latimer. 

Barbara Pym - brilliant writer, and cat lady

Trisha Ashley - The Garden of Forgotten Wishes and The Little Teashop of Lost and Found

In a spate of mental exhaustion, I put my feet up with two light rom-coms. In The Garden of Forgotten Wishes, Marnie returns to the UK after several years in France hiding from her coercive ex-husband. She takes a gardening job in the little Lancashire village her mother had fled years ago, but decides not to reveal her identity. One of her employers turns out to be a former fellow student who has his own reasons to be hiding. After a thorny start, if you will forgive the pun, relationships, of course, are restored along with the garden. I liked this best of the two, savouring its quiet pace.

In The Little Teashop of Lost and Found, Alice is reeling from the death of her fiance. She decides to sink her inheritance and grief into the project of reviving a little teashop in Haworth, near where she was found abandoned as a baby. As she seeks to work through her loss and uncover answers about her life, she also finds herself attracted to her antiques dealer neighbour, who will inadvertantly lead her to the truth.

I've got books lined up until the end of the year, I think, so I've put a cap on Kindle purchases - unless of course, another TBR bargain pops up...

QuickLit June 2021

 Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy as usual for quick reviews. Someone seems to have flipped the switch from spring to summer here on the Slovenian coast. Sun cream (sunscreen to US readers - don't ask why the British still use an old-fashioned word!), sea bathing and gelato is the order of the day, plus hiding indoors to read when it's too hot. Here's my reading from last month:

Taylor Jenkins Reid - Daisy Jones and the Six

This is going to be one of my best reads of the year. I love rock music and the whole rock scene from the late 60s/early 70s, and Reid brought it to life so vividly for me, I felt I was reading nonfiction. Told in interview-style as an investigative journalism piece, it explores how Daisy Jones and the group The Six got together, rocketed to fame - and broke up just as they reached stardom. Part of the hook is figuring out whose version you are going to believe, and to what extent. I've been recommending it to anyone I know who shares my love of that music genre.

Ruth Saberton - The Locket

A dual timeline story that revisits characters from The Letter (review here), which I really enjoyed. I thought this was okay, nothing amazing, perhaps because it is very similar to the first.  Looking for something to occupy her mind while her son serves in Afghanistan, Alison finally begins sorting through her mother's belongings, and brings to light a hidden WWI love story between her upper class great grandmother and a photographer.

One of Martin's whimsical illustrations for The Art of Repair

Molly Martin - The Art of Repair

The title is a play on words - this is a little book both about how to repair clothes, and a paean to it as an act of love, peppered with stories of rescuing beloved clothes (or toys). I devoured it in an evening, but am still returning to it over and over again. If you are looking for a comprehensive manual, you'll be disappointed, as Martin uses a very simple approach with just 6 basic stitches, but if you want something more philosophical and whimsical, you might check it out.

Charlotte Bronte - The Professor

This was unpublished in Charlotte's lifetime, and she largely rewrote this early novel into Villette. She made a wise choice - this first novel quite clearly works out the homesickness and cultural shock she (and Emily) endured during their years abroad as teachers/pupils more than it is crafted as a great novel. Rejecting, and rejected by, his family, William Crimsworth takes a position as a professor in Brussels, where his English Protestant sensibilities suffer amid Catholic culture, until he meets the (Protestant) woman who proves a fit companion. Honestly, it was hard to sympathise with someone who, from a modern viewpoint, is a misogynist and bigot. But now I only have Villette to go and I have (re)read all of Charlotte's novels this year.

Maggi Andersen - Never Dance with a Marquess

This is the latest in Maggi's 'Never' romance series. Nicholas is determined to abide by the wishes of his late mentor and friend, Max, to become the guardian of his two younger children, and see the elder daughter, Carrie, safely through her London Season and into the arms of a suitable husband. But Carrie does not care for the marriage mart when she has discovered the right man under her nose. Can she break through the defenses Nicholas has erected after a youthful tragedy, and, together, can they protect her siblings from Max's ruthless brother? Maggi (a member of my critique group) has perfected the art of the romantic novella, so if you want a perfectly-sized romantic treat, I recommend this and any of her Regency books. Maggi also kindly reviewed my novel on her blog recently.

I'm hoping that I won't be around for next month because PM Boris will finally have let me get into the UK without quarantine. We shall see...

QuickLit May 2021

 Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy for the monthly review round up. Reading wise, it was a mix of champagne and cheap plonk for me this month - all enjoyable in its own way. Read on for my literary confessions.

Charlotte Brontë - Shirley

Following on from reading Jane Eyre last month, I tackled Shirley. I couldn't remember much of this novel, apart from the fact that it had an industrial background and that the eponymous character was a woman who had been given a man's name (yes, Shirley used to be a man's name). I'm going to have to admit that, while the narrative of this story was engaging, there were long sections that were tedious and moralizing. Some of the disjointedness is deliberate, I think. This is a socially aware novel, set during the times of the Luddite riots, and it throws the conflicting claims and assumptions of the British classes into stark, and not always favourable, relief. I am starting to wonder about Charlotte Brontë's flawed heroes, though - neither Edward Rochester, Robert Moore here, nor Paul Emanuel in Villette are actually commendable, when you think about it.

Nancy Warren - Stockings and Spells, Purls and Potions, Fair Isle and Fortunes (The Vampire Knitting Club, Books 4-6)

After two Victorian novels, and a third lockdown, it was time for some brain candy. Budding witch, Lucy, has inherited an Oxford knitting shop, and a lot of trouble, from her newly undead grandmother. Book 4 was pretty entertaining, with a Christmas market murder linked to a decades-old plagiarism case. Book 5 has a good premise, where a love potion gone awry brings rehearsals of A Midsummer Night's Dream to life, but it ended up annoying me for its lack of research into Oxbridge college theatrics. In Book 6, Lucy's cousin steps in as the fortune teller at a local summer fete - but her fortunes come true with deadly accuracy. Warren needs a copy editor, but she writes entertaining plots, and I'd buy more if they came on sale, so I suppose she has a winning formula.

Emily Brontë - Wuthering Heights

Wuthering Heights comes in second after Jane Eyre in the list of novels that captured my teenage emotions. It's hard to believe the sisters wrote side-by-side, since their style is so different. If you need me to tell you, this is the story-of-all-stories about a couple who cannot live with each other and cannot live without each other, and whose destructive passion brings down the lives of all around them. I think Cathy and Heathcliff top the lists of both the most famous and worst couple in literary history. My most vivid memory of this novel is that I once finished it around midnight in a storm. I won't being doing that again.

If you are my age, and especially if you are British, this probably popped unbidden into your head at this moment:

Balli Kaur Jaswal - Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows

Nikki takes a job helping widows at her local Sikh temple learn to write in English. However, this marginalised group of women quickly take off in flights of fiction, expressing the passions they are no longer supposed to admit. Soon, suppressed truths emerge that put lives in danger. Be warned: it does contain the erotic stories. I will never think of ghee in the same way again.

Last but definitely not least, award-winning romantic novelist and my valuable critique partner Maggi Andersen released the second novella in her Never series - Never Dance with a Marquess - on May 13. An ideal escape in this unseasonal weather we all seem to be experiencing! Happy reading!

QuickLit April 2021

 Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy as usual for quick book reviews. I said I wanted to read more mindfully this year, and I achieved that in March, with a classic that needed close reading, and a long book - then I skimmed something meh while in the throes of a bad cold.

Charlotte Brontë - Jane Eyre

I always cite this as my favourite book - but I haven't re-read it in years. It got to the point where I was afraid to, in case it had lost its charm. So, I took the plunge and reader, I was not disappointed. I may see it differently in mid-life than when I first read it as a teenager, but the fierce, loyal, passionate Jane, who places her integrity above all else, will always be my ideal heroine. I wrote a longer piece about re-reading it here.

THE Mr Rochester - Timothy Dalton in the BBC series

Sarah Shoemaker - Mr Rochester

Jane Eyre prompted me to another re-read. I always think of this as my gateway Modern Mrs Darcy book, as it was the first recommendation I tried from the website. I really enjoyed it the first time I read it, but following straight on from the original did not make as favourable a comparison. It's Dickensian rather than Brontëan in tone, and the parts that don't intersect with the original pulled me in to Rochester's story. However, while I understand Shoemaker's dilemma in dealing with the 'Jane' part of the story, the decision to summarise most of it in reported speech means that we lose the spark of their duelling conversation.

I'll skip the meh book for a review of the latest chapter book I read with my five (almost six) year-old.

Eva Ibbotson - Not Just a Witch

Back when there was more of an outcry over Harry Potter, I'd often see US bloggers assert, "There's been nothing like this before!", when in fact, from a British point of view, Harry Potter comes from a long lineage of children's fantasy/school stories. In my opinion, the Austro-British Ibbotson is one of the finest authors in this tradition. Her books are imaginative, smart, entertaining, and down-to-earth. Heckie is an animal witch, that is, she can turn people into animals - but she is also a good witch. Following a misunderstanding with her best friend Dora, a stone witch, Heckie moves to Wellbridge, intending to Do Good by transforming wicked people. She recruits local witches and three children, particularly the lonely Daniel, ignored by his professor parents. But a local furrier, Mr Knacksap, finds out about Heckie's power and hatches a plot to deceive her into making him a fortune. 

This book is probably more aimed at middle graders for independent reading. My son loved it and made me read it twice over, though I did gloss over a few comments about human cruelty that I was not sure I wanted him to think about yet. (FYI, my all-time Ibbotson favourite is Which Witch?)

Any books you have shied away from re-reading? Wishing all reviving Spring or Autumn reads this next month!

I am Jane: On Re-reading Jane Eyre

 

'Reader, I married him.' 

Four words in English literature that never cease to send a thrill up my spine (and threaten a tear). I discovered Jane Eyre around the age of fourteen: I was instantly captured. Those were simpler days, pre-YA literature, at my all-girls' grammar school. Our surging adolescent emotions found expression in the Brontës and Georgette Heyer, while a few more daring readers devoured Mills and Boon novels. I fell in love with Mr Rochester, of course, and would have been off to France with him in a trice. When the BBC fortuitously put out a Sunday tea-time serial of the novel, my best friend and I watched it religiously. After the episode when Jane leaves Mr Rochester, we phoned each other and sobbed down the line, much, I suspect, to the amusement of our parents, who got to listen in because of course there was only the one family telephone at that time. (Timothy Dalton is, by the way, Mr Rochester. No other.)

Fast forward several decades. I had not re-read Jane Eyre for maybe fifteen to twenty years, yet I still cite it as my favourite novel. This began to nag at me – I should pick it up again. But fear held me back. What if, in middle age, it disappointed? Could I bear to lose those feelings? On the other hand, after a year of pandemic, what was left to crumble around me? I took the plunge.

Reader, I was not disappointed. Jane is still the archetype of every heroine for me. She possesses a fierce integrity that supports her whatever her outward circumstances, and she refuses to relinquish it for anything, even the love of another human being. It's a quality that one cherishes perhaps even more in one's fifties than teens, when time and the world has buffetted you on the outside, and got part way under your skin. As an adolescent, I may not have not appreciated the full import of Jane's refusal to be a man's mistress in the Victorian age, nor did I understand Mr Rochester's failing of locating his integrity outside himself (if that's not a tautology), in Jane, but her acute sense of justice spoke to my own.

But more happened as I plunged anew into Jane's world. I began to realise, with astonishment, and not a little shock, that Jane Eyre has been the blueprint for my life. How much was I drawn to a character that fitted me so perfectly, and how much is her influence? At this distance, I honestly don't know. As mentioned, the integrity at the core of her being has always been central to me, a childhood sense of justice that has not deserted me. On a less elevated level, my idea of romance has remained Brontëan: the brooding hero, the seemingly frail but inwardly strong heroine, gothic situations. And, my standard marriage advice for my daughter is, 'Make sure he doesn't have a mad wife in the attic.'

On a disconcerting note, the novel's style has apparently influenced my own. Though I recalled no specific scenes when writing my own modest novel, A Dorset Summer, I did reference the novel a couple of times, since my heroine is a governess. Apparently, that awakened a subconscious memory, because I can now see several passages that owe their style or content to Charlotte Brontë. Incidentally, it makes me wonder whether Daphne Du Maurier's Rebecca, so clearly a rewriting of Jane Eyre, is also a subconscious homage. Du Maurier certainly never admitted it was a conscious decision.

Further embarrassing confessions. I married an Edward, although he has always been a Ted. And, yes, my son's two middle names are Edward St John, but, I swear, St John is also a name on both sides of my family, and I was honouring a favourite uncle, not a literary character.

Jane Eyre not a perfect novel. In my older years, I am uncomfortable with the fact that Mr Rochester must essentially be emasculated in order to learn his lesson. And, admittedly, some of the dialogue strays too far into Victorian dialectic. But oh, in these depressing pandemic times, my heart is soaring once again with Jane.

Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong!–I have as much soul as you,–and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh;–it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God’s feet, equal,–as we are!

QuickLit March 2021

 Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy as usual. Strange to recall that about a year ago, I was feverishly reading Anne's new book, Don't Overthink It. My son and I were set to fly to the UK to visit family in two days' time, and there now seemed every possibility that once there, we might be stuck. The advice in the book helped me think through plans that gave me the confidence to go ahead and enjoy my visit without being overwhelmed by anxiety. 

It may seem small in the scheme of things, but many readers will be looking back over a year of rather different reading lists or reading habits. Dark or emotionally harrowing books have been (mostly) off my list. On the other hand, finally purchasing a new e-reader after a few years of reading on a large phone screen (for frugality and practicality) refreshed my reading experience. I'm just sorry that I didn't fork out the extra money for a waterproof one now that we have a bathtub.

Oh yes, actual books: I tackled a couple of books for research this month, so my leisure reading list is smaller. Here goes...

Daphne Du Maurier - Myself When Young

Breezier in tone than I expected, but it soon drew me in. Du Maurier draws on the journals she kept from an early age to trace her life and development as a writer up to the point of her marriage. It's frank, and, be warned, includes an exploration of the emotional incest that infuses her later novel, The Parasites. MMD readers will be delighted to know she also shares the reading lists she kept from those years!

Alan Bradley - The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

I'd read one of these Flavia de Luce mystery novels out of turn and, though I didn't really take to it, decided I would give another one a go. This is the first in the series, set around 1950 in Britain: eleven year-old Flavia finds a dying man in the grounds of her family's mansion - a man whom she had heard arguing with her father the night before. Blackmail, poison and a decades-old crime: just the excitement to feed the brain of a precocious, chemistry-obsessed girl. On paper, Flavia is a character I ought to relate to: intelligent, socially awkward, probably on the Asperger's spectrum,  but I just can't empathise with her. I think one of the problems is that, in both books I have read, the American author uses a British phrase or allusion in a way I would not, which throws the world of the novel off-kilter for me. Sorry, Flavia fans, but please, convince me to read on if you can :)

Corfe Castle, 1950s. Credit: https://www.dorsetecho.co.uk/news/features/lookingback/18850300.pictures-dorset-1940s-1950s/

Eric Benfield - Dorset

I'm ending with this, not particularly as a review, but as a little paean to vintage guide books. In researching Dorset in the first half of the twentieth century, my eyes have been opened to the charms of second hand books I would normally have passed over as pointless: old regional and travel books. I thought I'd be ploughing through outdated material, but ended up hooked - it's like time travelling from the comfort of your armchair. If you really want to get to the heart of a place, I recommend ditching the modern history and scouring the local second hand book shop for outdated guide books, written by a native son or daughter of the area. It's the first section I'll be heading for on my next trip.

Wishing you compassion and hope this anniversary, and books that will carry you through.

QuickLit February 2021

 Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy as usual for quick book reviews. 

Well, having declared that my 2021 goal was to read fewer books, more mindfully, I clocked up a record seven for January. In my defense, one was begun in December, and one was a beta novel that I read during working hours (I loved it, I wish I could reveal all!). Here's the five that count as January's leisure reading:

Barbara Pym - No Fond Return of Love

I deliberately saved this to get the new year off to a happy reading start, because I am addicted to Pym's mid-twentieth century comedies of manners. Jilted Dulcie throws herself into matchmaking between her new friend, Viola, and the self-centred academic Aylwin, who is also arrogant enough to think he can enchant Dulcie's young niece. Amid the comedy of genteel stalking and the foibles of academia is a wry look at the attitudes emerging career women faced in the 1950s (and some fun internal references to Pym's other novels).

Charlotte and Mr Collins. Credit: https://thelongvictorian.com/2016/04/09/the-11-worst-couples-in-literature/

Molly Greely - The Clergyman's Wife

I'm not big on literary spinoffs, but I was intrigued by the idea of imagining how the Pride and Prejudice marriage of Charlotte and Mr Collins panned out. Charlotte has accepted the marriage of convenience that so disappointed her friend Elizabeth - until she meets a man who seems to be her soulmate. A sensitive, lyrical contemplation of the choices Regency women faced made this an unexpected companion novel to No Fond Return of Love.

Joan Lindsay - Picnic at Hanging Rock

Vaguely remembering the disturbing tone of the film version of this book from many years ago, I gave myself prior permission to put it down anytime it began to scare me - but I managed to get through it. On Valentine's day 1900, a group of schoolgirls and their teachers visit Hanging Rock in Victoria, Australia. Several of them vanish, never to return, and the story traces the ripple effect through the community. Hovering in the background is the sense of an ancient, aboriginal force that the 'civilised' British community is unable to suppress. Note: if you must have resolution, you will not like this novel.

The 1975 film. Credit: https://benefitsofaclassicaleducation.wordpress.com/2017/10/31/shocktober-review-picnic-at-hanging-rock-1975/

Dorothy L. Sayers - Murder Must Advertise and Have His Carcass

Two Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries in a row! In the first, Lord Peter goes undercover at an advertising agency to investigate the suspicious falling death of an employee. Sayers herself worked in advertising at one point, so a bonus is the insider's-view satire of the industry, that still has surprising resonance today.

Have His Carcass is the second Harriet Vane mystery. On a walking holiday, Harriet discovers a corpse on the beach with his throat cut. Is it suicide, as the police assume, the work of Bolsheviks, as his much-older fiancée insists, or something else altogether? I had already seen the TV version of this novel, but it still had me hooked.

The cold weather seems to be gripping both sides of the Atlantic, so I hope you are cosying up with some good books this month!

A P.S. After embarking on the fourth back-to-back reading of Bunnicula to my five year-old, I hopped on line and ordered the complete series. I hope this will keep him satiated for a bit.

Quick Lit December 2020

 

Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy for QuickLit as usual. I rarely read memoirs, and this month I squeezed in two. Retrospectively, I'm not sure it was a great idea because I was feeling emotionally sensitive during a second lockdown, and real-life pain is much worse than fictional pain. But both were worth reading.

Helen Oyeyemi - Gingerbread

The best way to describe this quirky novel is that it's a Brothers Grimm story in a modern setting. Going back and forth in time, it tells the story of how the Lee family women, makers of seemingly magical gingerbread, came to the UK from Druhastrana, a country most claim does not exist, and for Harriet Lee's quest to reunite with her childhood, changeling friend Gretel. Weird, but I enjoyed it.

Raynor Winn - The Salt Path

This was a memoir I simultaneously felt drawn to read and dreaded reading, because I knew it was going to be harrowing. In mid-life, Winn and her husband, Moth, lose everything, and in the same week, Moth receives a diagnosis of a fatal degenerative disease. With no home, little money, and nowhere to go, they decide to walk the 600-mile South West coast path of Britain, wild camping on the way. I picked it up for the Dorset connection and nature writing, but ended up learning a lot about homelessness. Although the ending was positive, it still left me drained and disturbed - but in a way that a deep book does. Highly recommended - one of my top books of 2020.

Raynor and Moth. Credit: Guardian.co.uk

P.G. Wodehouse - A Pelican at Blandings

I had to read something lighthearted after The Salt Path, and knew this wouldn't have any hidden surprises. Poor Lord Emsworth just wants to be left in peace with his prize pig, the Empress of Blandings, but he is plagued by the arrival of his overbearing sister Connie, star-crossed lovers, and wrangling over a nude painting. Enter his unflappable brother Galahad, as usual, to sort all out and make every ending happy.

Lawrence's lyrical chapter on the joy of riding his motorcycle reads painfully ironically

T.E. Lawrence - The Mint

In 1922, worn out by fame and broken by PTSD (which of course was not recognised back then), Lawrence, aka, Lawrence of Arabia, took an assumed name, and managed to enlist as a common airman in the RAF, hoping to be erased and made anew. This is his memoir of that experience (published after his early, accidental death) - raw, concise, painful and quite a departure from the sprawling, genre-defying Seven Pillars of Wisdom. Part of the fascination of this book is that Lawrence could never have got away with it in our digital age. Language warning - you probably did not know that people swore like this in the 1920s!

If you want to read more about Lawrence, check out my account of visiting his grave in Dorset. Oh, and one of the characters in my novel, A Dorset Summer, is inspired by him. Considering that I am not interested in either politics or the military, my obsession is a little odd :)

Hoping that Father Christmas brings you all you wish to read!

Quick Lit November 2020

 Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy as usual for QuickLit. On reflection, it was a mixed bag for last month's reading - one classic, one so-so, and ending with some escapism as we went into a second lockdown. But here are the quick reviews:

P.G. Wodehouse - Pigs have Wings [audiobook]

How did I, with multiple degrees in English literature, escape reading P.G. Wodehouse this far in life? To be honest, because I harbour a suspicion of novels that are deliberately trying to be funny, and rarely try one. How wrong I was. With the impeccable upper class accent of the narrator, Jeremy Sinden, I was giggling from the beginning. Pig napping and star-crossed lovers are all adroitly managed by Lord Emsworth's incorrigible brother, Galahad. I have another Blandings Castle novel already in my TBR pile.

Donna Fletcher Crow -  Glastonbury: A Novel of Christian England

I wavered over whether to post a review of this because in some ways I don't feel qualified. To cut to the chase, it turned out that this novel is from Crow's pre-Anglican days, when she wrote for the Evangelical Christian fiction market - not my cup of tea at all. It was inspired by Edward Rutherford's Sarum: The Novel of England, an equally fat novel (actually, series of linked novellas),which I loved. As it says, Glastonbury tells the story of English Christianity from the time of Christ (following the legend that Joseph of Arimathea came to England with the Grail) to the dissolution of the monasteries in the reign of Henry VIII. I liked the overall premise and the basis for each novella, and so I persevered through 1000-plus pages because I had been promising myself I would read this when I got a new Kindle, and also because the parts that I enjoyed, I really enjoyed. However, I confess to skipping chunks of the evangelical stuff.

Nancy Warren - The Vampire Knitting Club Books 1-3

I was seduced by Bookbub again into buying this collection on the cheap, to re-read the first and devour the others for a Halloween treat. Well-written escapism. American-raised Lucy has inherited her grandmother's Oxford knitting shop, although she can't knit to save her life. But it is soon apparent that her grandmother not only didn't die of natural causes, but is not technically dead. Oh, and she happened to be a witch who hosts a knitting club for her vampire friends, who are happy to break the boredom of eternal life by helping Lucy solve the murders and mysteries that fall her way as she herself takes up the family witches mantle.

Hope books are keeping you sane in these strange times! Going out on the BBC adaptation of the Blandings novels.

QuickLit October 2020

 Back to linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy for QuickLit after a September trip to see family in Dorset, England (and play in the sand and eat lots of cake). Plus, the local bookshop owner agreed to stock my novel set in Dorset!

Local fame for A Dorset Summer :)

Fun family fact - the Seaweeds book next to it was published under a project my brother was involved in! Here's a few reading highlights from the last couple of months:

Daphne Du Maurier - Mary Anne

This is another of Du Maurier's fictionalized family biographies, this time of her notorious great-great grandmother, Mary Anne Clarke, who pulled herself out of poverty to become a courtesan, and was for a short time the mistress of the Prince of Wales - until she reached too far. Du Maurier does not paint a pretty world or likeable characters, but this is the eighteenth century where reputation, money and a woman's body are commodities in the game of politics. Not as riveting as her fiction, but interesting if you are already a Du Maurier fan and want to know more about her family.

Jane Borodale - The Book of Fires

Keeping to the eighteenth century for this literary historical novel, shortlisted for the Orange prize. Agnes is seventeen and pregnant out of wedlock. When an unexpected way out presents itself, she flees to London and ends up as the apprentice to a fireworks maker, from whom she hides her shame. But her salvation has a time limit, and her all choices are desperate. Lyrical, lots of fascinating details about pyrotechnics, and a surprise happy ending.

My book stash from the UK, with the new Kindle I bought there on top

Jenny Colgan - The Endless Beach

My Mum gave me The Book of Fires to read, and I left her this when I was done (because my bags couldn't take one. more. thing). A sequel to The Summer Seaside Kitchen (or The Cafe by the Sea if you are in the US). Flora wonders if her new relationship with Joel is actually getting anywhere. Lorna, her friend and headmistress of the tiny island school, is wrestling with her love for refugee doctor Saif, whose wife and sons are missing. Only Flora's brother seems to enjoy unalloyed happiness with Colton - but their new love is about to be tested to the full. Typical delicious Colgan fare that will keep you turning the pages.

Plenty of new publications from my critique group this past month or so. Here' s a sampling:

Ursula Thompson - Brothers of the Sun. Book 1: All at Sea.   Piratical debut.

Katherine Pym - Begotten. Fantasy based on the ancient Sumer civilisation.

Maggi Andersen - Introducing Miss Joanna. Second in her romance novella series Once a Wallflower. Plus The Heir's Proposal. Maggi is prolific :) Oh, and a romance novella collection she contributed to, The Midnight Hour: All Hallows Brides, won the RONE award!

Anne Marie Brear - Market Stall Girl. Historical family saga set in Yorkshire.

Hope you are having a safe and happy October. I confess this is the time of year when I am grateful I have moved back to Europe and only have to think about Christmas :)

Legends of Old Harry Rock

Photo credit: https://www.pxfuel.com/en/free-photo-jlyjo

Old Harry Rock (or, Old Harry Rocks) near Studland is/are an iconic landmark in Dorset, although perhaps a little less famous (if postcards are anything to go by) than Durdle Door in Lulworth. The chalk outcrop looms as a geographic phantom throughout my novel, A Dorset Summer.

Just as people don't agree on exactly how to name them (just counting the main rock, or those surrounding him), how they got their name is also in dispute. Some say they are named after the fourteenth-century Poole pirate, Harry Paye. Explanations include that his ships hid near here as a launch point for his raid on merchant ships, or that his treasure was stashed in the cliff's caves. History suggests that Harry ferried pilgrims across the sea to Spain, and, in an admirable display of business acumen, filled his empty holds on the return journey by indulging in piracy along the Spanish coastline, as well as accepting money from Spanish nobility to aid them in their feuds.

The main reason he is celebrated comes a little later - and I've seen slightly different versions of that story. Either in payback for the piratical antics of the man they called Arripaye, or in a run-of-the-mill act of aggression,  A Spanish-French alliance raided the coastline along Dorset, launching an attack on Harry's home town. The people of Poole beat the invaders off in a desperate fight, even ripping doors from their hinges to use as shields. Apparently Harry was absent, but in revenge, he gathered a small fleet and captured 120 French ships, giving their cargo to Poole. It is said the people were drunk for a month afterwards on the claret. I'm surprised they even remembered his name after that, but they (maybe) named the rocks for him, and commemorate him on Harry Paye Day - Pirate Day - in Poole.

Photo credit: https://www.pxfuel.com/en/free-photo-ozuwh

The other most popular legend links the rocks to "Old Harry", the devil, joining with many other geographic oddities in the British Isles, which are said to be places visited by the devil. The Dorset legend says he slept on the rock one night. The expression "to play Old Harry" means to ruin or destroy, and it's linked here to the idea that it's a warning to ships to steer clear of the rocks. By the way, other places in Dorset with satanic etymology include Agglestone (meaning "Prince's Stone") and the village of Dewlish (devilish).

Another legend, one that I only found out about when I delved a little deeper into Old Harry legends, is that the rock is a drowned Viking, Earl Harold, turned into a pillar of chalk after his raid on the English coast was thwarted. I tried to investigate that tale further, but only got broken links, so maybe it's a legend about a legend :)

Geography says the rocks were once part of a chalk cliff line that stretched out to what is now the Isle of Wight. Erosion over thousands of years left us the Needles at the Isle of Wight and Old Harry by the mainland. Old Harry used to have a wife, but she collapsed into the sea at the end of the nineteenth century, and her title was transferred to the next rock along, so I suppose Old Harry is not that doting a husband.

By the way, H.G. Wells' ashes were scattered here by his son.

Painting copyright Beatrice Dobson 2020 (aka my talented daughter!)

Whatever the origins, Old Harry is an impressive focal point for your walks along the Jurassic coastline. I like to do the walk from Swanage, the town where my parents now live. You can start from the town itself, picking up the path to the cliff near the Grand Hotel, but I prefer to begin at Swanage beach, walking along almost to the point where it turns the corner of the coastline, to pick up the stairs that wind up the cliff and meet the coastal path. From there it's a clearly-marked path along the cliff edge and through fields to Old Harry. After you've rested on the cliffs, a short walk will bring you down into Studland and the Bankes Arms for a very well-deserved pint, and the bus back to Swanage. As far as I can recall, that's less than a couple of hours of walking.

The easiest and more popular route, especially in summer, is to pick up the path in Studland itself, down the road from the Bankes Arms, where you start on a wooded, shaded route and break out into sunshine near the cliff edge. We used to do that quite a lot when I was a child, as a break from sitting on the beach below. Whichever route you choose, you'll be well rewarded at the end.

I chose to put the legends of Old Harry into the prologue of my novel, setting the tone of something vaguely supernatural lying beneath the surface. Here it is in full:

Photo credit: all my own work :)

A Dorset Summer: Prologue 

I lean against the windowsill, my face so close to the pane that my breath dissolves a little circle in the frost clinging to the glass. In the fading light, an unfamiliar landscape meets my eye. Snow: shovelled into grey heaps three feet high on either side of the pathways, drifting pristine against the fences, melding gardens and fields into one expanse.

On a whim, I fling open the casement. An avalanche of hardened snow cascades from the roof above. A gull, hunkered down by the chimney, takes flight, startled and angry, and screeches off into the dusk.

Little clumps of snowflakes waft into the room and settle on my cheeks, melting down my face in icy tears. Water trickles to my collar as I trace the dark outline of the bird, headed towards the coast. My head tells me he will make for the nearest barn or house, to take shelter where he can until the darkness lifts. In my heart, I follow him to the sea.

I close my eyes and visualise his imaginary flight, sweeping the miles to the cliffs, to Old Harry Rocks. Foolish, I know. What would drive him all that way, cold and blind and weary?

What drove me?

Old Harry. Not even here in Dorset, where memory is long, can they agree on how the rocks came to be named. Many swear it is for Harry Paye, a pirate in the days of the Plantagenets. Harry pillaged his way along the coast of Normandy to the Bay of Biscay, until the French and Spanish fleets united to raid his home town, Poole, in revenge. But like the land, the people here are resilient. They fought off the foreign invaders, using only doors for shields, then immortalised the man who brought destruction on their heads by christening these rocks after him.

I take a long breath, drawing the chill air deep into my lungs, as if testing my own resilience against the outside world. In these twilight hours, it is easier to believe the folklore that the rocks take their name from a destroyer of souls far older than Harry Paye. They say the devil slept there one night, tired out from making mischief perhaps, or from carousing with his pagan comrades at nearby Stonehenge.

I lean out to swing the casement shut. A final blast of frigid air envelops me. I step back, arms wrapped around myself, watching the view fade from my sight as the window pane fogs up.

The land outside my window tells its own silent story about Old Harry Rocks; in the end, I think, more true than either legend. Any guide to Dorset will inform you these stone outcrops are part of the flint and chalk downs that spread through the county and out across the sea. The rocks have stood, outwardly impregnable, for tens upon millions of years, but the elements assault them mercilessly. Air and water work their way into each little fissure, eroding caves, which in turn become open hollows. Eventually, the archways gape so wide, the rock cannot support itself and collapses into the waiting arms of the ocean.

Such are we. We hide our inmost selves from those around us, standing tall and hard as rocks. But little by little, the world works its way into our cracks, exposing our frailties, until we can no longer sustain the façade of our outward lives and plunge headlong into the abyss of our own making.

And who is there to catch us when we fall?

A Dorset Summer is available via Amazon: here's the link to the blurb and other info. Meanwhile, if you are interested in Old Harry Rocks, here's a couple of online sources to get you started:

https://www.foreadventure.co.uk/blog/2014/10/30/the-legend-of-old-harry
https://www.dorsetlife.co.uk/2019/06/harry-paye-pirate-of-poole/

A short article on Dorset place names in general is found at http://www.bbc.co.uk/dorset/content/articles/2006/12/29/place_names_feature.shtml

And here are some walks that take in Old Harry Rocks:
https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/purbeck-countryside/trails/old-harry-rocks-walk
https://www.southwestcoastpath.org.uk/walksdb/424/

Quick Lit July 2020

Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy for the QuickLit round up. June was a slower reading month, but with one unfinished novel and two I loved, I guess it was a winner overall.

Dorothy L. Sayers - Strong Poison
What I appreciate about Sayers's detective novels is the emphasis on 'novel'. The Lord Peter Wimsey stories don't follow a formula, but rather Sayers experiments with style and theme. This novel introduces the partnership with Harriet Vane beloved by many readers, as Lord Peter races to prove she is innocent of poisoning her former lover. I also enjoyed the balanced themes in this book: Even as the men - Lord Peter, Detective Inspector Charles Parker, and The Hon. Freddie Arbuthnot - are contemplating marriage, we are introduced to a slew of unmarried, independent women whose resourcefulness matches Lord Peter's own. I've got two more Wimsey books waiting on my Kindle now!

Dacre Stoker - Dracula: the Un-dead
I was lured to try this by the promise that it is the authorised sequel - I made it through the original on my second go (the first time, I foolishly tried to read it at night) and loved it. Plus, I can claim to be vaguely related to Bram Stoker through my husband's side of the family. However, the claim that it is based on Bram Stoker's notes is stretching it a bit - I doubt he planned a gory, lesbian vampire fantasy. If you're wondering, it was the gore that made me put the book down - but if you like classic vampire novels, this might be for you.

Ruth Saberton - The Letter
I've read one other novel by Saberton - The Island Legacy - and it was OK. But this one, unlike Dracula, I couldn't put down - it was right up my alley and had surprising similarities to my own writing style (well, maybe not, considering the setting and subject matter). This is a dual timeline novel, which I am gathering are quite popular right now. Young widow Chloe rents an old rectory in the Cornish village where her husband's roots are, hoping to find a resolution to her grief. She becomes embroiled in a mystery surrounding an obscure World War I poet, but the key she is searching for also becomes the one that opens a door to her new life.

From my critique group (I read this in July but am squeezing it in here!):

Saturday’s Child completes Rosemary Morris’ seven-book series of loosely connected Regency romances. You don’t need to read  them in order. They are all “sweet” or “closed door” romances. But although they may be gentle in tone, Ms. Morris uses these novels to explore issues of love across various barriers, be they disability, race or class. This story takes the latter angle, focusing not on a member of the upper class but working-class Annie, who builds up her own business after the loss of her father. Her determination and compassion earns her the attention of Marcus, a member of the ton, but can true love really cross class barriers? With Saturday’s Child, you can escape into the Regency era, root for a resourceful heroine, and admire a hero who is willing to challenge his beliefs for the sake of the woman he loves. Best of all, if this is your cup of tea, you have six more to enjoy!

Finally, here's a little taste of the 80s Wimsey and Vane series to round out this post. Each mystery gets 3-4 episodes, so you really get into the details. I recommend it!

QuickLit June 2020

Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy as usual for QuickLit. I have something to celebrate as we finish coming out of lockdown - I finally published my novel, A Dorset Summer (a promise seven years in the making, which is a whole other blog post). Here is a link to the post all about it, and the  Amazon link, if anyone is interested. Meanwhile, here's what kept me going in May:

The Venerable Bede. Source: https://drdudsdicta.com/2015/08/29/the-venerable-bede-on-immigration/

Donna Fletcher Crow - An Unholy Communion, A Newly Crimsoned Reliquary, and An All-Consuming Flame (The Monastery Murders, books 3-5)
I was definitely losing it by the end of lockdown - making cinnamon rolls at 10pm, and randomly choosing to read an entire series of cosy mysteries set in the heart of the Anglican church. As I mentioned last month, I enjoyed the first but the second was a let-down. The third picked up for me. In An Unholy Communion, ordinand Felicity and history lecturer Father Anthony, now engaged, take a young group of pilgrims through ancient Wales after the mysterious falling death of a past student of Anthony's. But the evil that seems to dog their footsteps is not wholly of this world. Oxford is the setting of A Newly Crimsoned Reliquary. Felicity is translating a manuscript for an order of nuns - but their Mother Superior has gone missing, and a grisly new "relic" turns up in a reliquary. The last installment, An All-Consuming Fire, meandered a bit, like the second: in the run-up to Anthony and Felicity's wedding, Anthony is roped in to help with a documentary on the English mystics, but the misfortunes dogging the set start to get closer to home...
What can I say - they have their ups and downs (Felicity must have some serious brain damage given all the times she's been knocked on the head, and Ms. Crow seems to paint anyone who isn't white middle class with broad brush strokes), but the historical parts of the mysteries are informing and entertaining, and it has spurred me to start re-reading the classics of my faith. Brain candy for church history geeks.


Jenny Colgan - The Loveliest Chocolate Shop in Paris
Usually I stick to Jenny Colgan books that involve remote British locations plus baking or books. Also (quelle horreur!) I am not in love with Paris (Florence, now...). Anyhow, this is two parallel stories: while in hospital, Anna is roomed with her old French teacher, who helps her brush up her language skills and gets her a summer job with a chocolatier, who happens to be the teacher's first love. Anna's story is interspersed with that romance, set in the 70s. It's the classic Colgan formula, breezy, heartwarming, and not explicit. I wept a little, too.

Lorna Cook - The Forgotten Village
I had to read this dual timeline novel because it incorporates a fictionalised account of Tyneham, the Dorset village requisitioned by the army in the Second World War, a place I've visited several times. Just as Melissa's relationship falls apart on a holiday in Dorset, she meets TV historian Guy on a visit to the village. Struck by an anomaly in the photo of Lady Veronica and Sir Albert, they begin a spontaneous investigation of what actually happened in Tyneham in the last few, fateful days before the entire population was relocated, and, of course, find themselves falling for each other. Once I got over my initial disconnect between the facts I know and the fictional story Ms. Cook creates, I enjoyed this. I also recommend visiting the village if you are down that way and it is open (the army still uses the land for target practice so it's sometimes closed).

Bede - History of the English Church and People [also known as: Ecclesiastical History of the English People]
I got right to my promise and pulled this off my bookshelf. British readers may well recall the Venerable Bede from history lessons. This 8th century monk is known as a father of British history - he gathers sources from his network across Europe to present the church history of the English. I have to admit my eyes glazed over at the difficult names, except for Bishop Sexwulf - I bet he had a good congregation, but I'm glad I tackled it. I was also amused by Bede's shameless plug for another of his books right at the end; some things never change in publishing, it seems.

Source: http://www.colleenldonnelly.com/

Colleen Donnelly - Letters and Lies
From a member of my critique group. Don't Come. I can't marry you. This is the telegram Lizzie's fiance-by-correspondence sends just as she is due to head out West for their marriage. But Lizzie, desperate to be married and to save her family business, boards the train under the guise of a widow intending to change his mind. But one lie leads to another, and she soon finds herself embroiled in trouble she hadn't anticipated. And she's not the only one concealing the truth. I wouldn't usually pick up a novel set in the Wild West, but I enjoyed this. It's an easy read, and, though romance is at its heart, it's more about sisterhood.

Let me know if you have any recommendations for Anglican mysteries - or just good Anglican books!

Available at Amazon

A Dorset Summer is here!

Well, maybe not quite in the actual county right now, but my novel is finally published on Amazon! A promise to myself it took seven years to keep (no, that's not the novel blurb, but real life). But talking of blurbs, here is the back cover blurb:

A holiday in Dorset with her wealthy, newly-divorced cousin seems the perfect escape from Phoebe's mundane life as a governess – until a man walks from the sea at Studland and into her life. Phoebe is drawn inexorably into a relationship with Alex Milne, a reclusive, tormented WWI veteran, even as she is courted by handsome, gentle landowner James Stephenson. The three form an uneasy triangle of lovers and allies fighting to save the Dorset countryside and its way of life – but the ancient land exerts its own forces on their lives. Trapped between her passion and her integrity, her head and her heart, Phoebe must make choices that compel her to confront her past and threaten to destroy her future.

The alternative cover - I'm waiting for my daughter to edit it :)

And here is the trailer - it's amazing what you can do with no knowledge whatsoever:

Now available at Amazon:

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.de

QuickLit May 2020

Linking up with Modern Mrs Darcy for QuickLit. At the time this is published (May 15), we'll be almost completely out of lockdown in Slovenia, with kindergartens about to start back up. It's been pretty much a two-month non-event here, with little Covid-19 but a whole lot of restrictions, and the joy of managing a job and daycare at home. Thank goodness for lovely spring weather and a back garden (not everyone in European cities has one!). I needed escapism in my reads - only one 'serious' book this month, and that was a pretty easy read, too.

Saint Cuthbert on his peregrinations (see below)

Soniah Kamal - Unmarriageable
So I finally decided to give an Austen rewrite a chance. This retelling of Pride and Prejudice is set in modern Pakistan. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. There are a few places where the parallels to the original feel forced, but on the whole it's a fun read, and I was sad to say goodbye to the lively Binat family.

Madeline Miller - The Song of Achilles
I was pleased to pick up this TBR second hand - and sorry I'd waited so long to read it. It was right up my alley: classical, with spare but lyrical prose, and sensual (but not explicit). It retells the story of the greatest Greek warrior through the eyes of Patroclus, an unloved, exiled child prince who becomes first Achilles' companion and then lover. I kept coming back to read favourite parts after I was done. Miller's other novel, Circe, has now shot up my TBR rankings.

Donna Fletcher Crow - A Very Private Grave and A Darkly Hidden Truth (The Monastery Murders Books 1 and 2)
As an Anglican, I was interested in the setting of this series, the inner circles of the Church of England. It's an entertaining read - but I'd been hoping for something a little more literary. Our amateur sleuths are Felicity, a young American studying at a theological college in northern England, and her history lecturer, Father Anthony. This premise gives Crow the excuse to explain details to her readers - but results in too many what I call  "history dumps" in the books. I did love the mystery in the first one, though, solved by tracing the centuries-long journey of Saint Cuthbert's body, after his monks fled Viking hoards with his coffin in tow. The second, unfortunately, is much weaker, too meandering in the middle and almost a repeat of the first plot line, translated to a mystery surrounding a stolen icon. But the series is very cheap, so I decided to keep going: final reviews next month!

I hope things are looking better (or never got bad) wherever you are, and that reading is pulling you through!