Review: Contacts by Mark Watson

“One message. 158 names. Send to all. But who will be there when you need them the most?”

Genre: General fiction/contemporary fiction

Similar to: Will Carver but with fewer errors

Could be enjoyed by: People who like a darker side to their fiction.

Trigger warnings: Suicide, depression, anxiety, general mental health issues

Publication date: 29th October 2020 (one in a long line of “oops – missed the publication date by a mile)

I’m a huge fan of Mark Watson, with his geeky, awkward, slightly manic comedy and his apparent inability to navigate 21st century life. However, I’d never read any of his novels so I was intrigued when Contacts popped up on Netgalley. The premise is quite unusual – a YOUNG man (I refuse to say middle aged – he’s about the same age as me) called James decides to take his own life and sends out a text to all of his contacts telling them what he is about to do – but then puts his phone on aeroplane mode. While his family and friends are desperately trying to reach him, James quietly sits on the sleeper train to Edinburgh with two pork pies, some biscuits and a six-pack, preparing himself for his last 24 hours on earth.

DUM DUM DUMMMMM! (Drama ensues). I can’t really say much more without *spoilers* but obviously the storyline follows the desperate quest to stop James from doing what he’s about to do, whilst he obliviously sits on a train moving further away from everyone who loves him. What I can say though is that I was completely hooked and didn’t want to put the book down. 

Obviously, writing a book where the main character spends the whole time wanting to die is incredibly… brave? risky? difficult? all of the above? but Waton handles the whole thing with incredible sensitivity. It’s hard to read the novel without reflecting on where his knowledge of suicidal thoughts came from (Watson has been quite open in the past about his struggles with his own mental health) but I thought this made the writing feel completely authentic. I did worry that as the novel progressed I would be dragged into a pit of despair but thankfully there’s lots of moments of levity that lighten the overall tone.

I originally thought that the book’s premise was pretty straightforward but I loved how much depth was added through the exploration of relationships with other characters and in turn, the way that we maintain them through the use of technology. In particular, I really felt for James’ mum, who didn’t really use a mobile or social media and so was completely cut off from her son in all sorts of different ways and had to rely on others to ascertain where he might be. Her helplessness was palpable and I found her parts of the story the most difficult to read. 

Overall, I thought that Contacts was quite a unique book. It was highly emotional but difficult topics were tackled very sensitively and some well placed funny moments helped to keep the tone far lighter than expected. I ended up sitting in a cold bath until 1:30am because I couldn’t wait to see how it ended, which is perhaps all you needed to know (I should probably have put that sentence first).

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Five “I’m literally shivering but just one more chapter”s out of five.

Bleakly heartwarming and highly recommended

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Please note that I read this book for free in exchange for an honest review courtesy of NetGalley. Thanks NetGalley!

The Return of Mid-Month Mini-Reviews!

Hello Bookworms!

For the first time in what feels like FOREVER I’m returning my previous feature – Mid-Month Mini-Reviews! (Gosh, that’s a lot of hyphens, even for me. Emily Dickinson eat your heart out.)

This, um, year..? I’ve decided to try to tackle my appalling NetGalley backlist so that they don’t banish me from the site entirely. Luckily, I’ve had been given ARC’s of some amazing books through the site (sort of) recently so I get to squee and fangirl all the way through the reviews! Today, I’m looking at non-fiction books from queer authors (yes I meant to post this during Pride month but I got waylaid, ok?)

 

Happy Fat by Sophie Hagen

I can’t begin to tell you how much I learnt from reading this book. Sophie Hagen has taken one of the final taboo topics – being fat – and spoken so openly and so beautifully about what it’s like to live in a world that’s constantly treating your size like it’s something that you should definitely, absolutely be ashamed of – regardless of how you feel about yourself. She examines the issue from a variety of different viewpoints, providing her own insights and observations along the way; some of them are funny, some of them heartbreaking but it’s shocking at how aggressively, patronisingly or downright rudely Sophie has been treated.

As a non-fat person, I really appreciated the section where Sophie talked about how to be a good friend to someone who is fat, even though I was cringing at some of the things that I have very definitely said or done in the past and how problematic they are in hindsight.

By the end of this book, I can guarantee that you’ll feel like you’ve had your eyes suddenly opened to just how fat phobic the world actually is (unless of course this is just your lived reality, in which case I apologise for being so blind to it all). Once you’ve read Happy Fat you can’t go back – but I guarantee you’ll be a better person for reading it.

 

The Other Mother by Jen Brister

I really loved reading about Jen Brister’s experience of motherhood as “the other mother” – the partner of a woman giving birth to their twins. It provides a totally different perspective on the parenting experience and made me laugh, squirm and never, ever want to have children. Jen doesn’t shy away from the grim realities of motherhood and the *quite literal* amount of shit that having children brings.

What shines through the text is the sheer amount of love that Jen clearly has for her family. From seeing her partner as some kind of breastfeeding goddess (aww) to feeling her heart break a tiny bit every time one of her kids wants to be comforted by his other Mum, the text is imbrued with a sense that, even in the most desperate moments, she wouldn’t change it for the world.

As a child-free person I read this book with a certain amount of smug satisfaction, knowing that I can still go out when I want, book a meal out mere hours before I’m eating, drink too much wine and spend a leisurely day nursing a hangover with no need to get out of bed. I genuinely don’t know how anyone copes with TWO babies let alone one (especially when one of them doesn’t sleep for MONTHS) so I was also left with a huge sense of admiration.

Just don’t read it if you’re pregnant!

 

Unicorn by Amrou Al-Kadhi

I cannot begin to tell you how much I loved this memoir – I would have given it six stars if I could. Unicorn is the life story of Amrou Al-Kadhi; growing up in a strict Iraqui Muslim family, battling with the prejudice and racism of public school, dealing with their family’s homophobia to come out as queer and non-binary and finding themselves in their drag alter ego Glamrou (also marine biology and quantum physics seemed to help).

The story has a bit of everything – drama, regret, sadness, anger, love, drugs, loneliness… it’s a real rollercoaster of emotions and my heart went out to Amrou as they were confronted with almost every different type of prejudice that exists – often all at the same time.

As a cis-gendered white woman I found a surprising amount of commonality between Amrou’s feelings growing up and my own (EDIT why do I always write this? I really need to learn that underneath it all, people are all basically the same). In particular, their mother sounds like a Middle Eastern version of my own. I have vivid memories of watching my Mum doing her makeup every morning and tottering round town in stiletto heels and a cloud of hairspray. I could relate to those feelings of power that come from makeup and clothing – the exotic danger of red lipstick and the glamour of an 80’s shoulder pad. Except for me, the thrill of dressing up was seen as cute – for Amrou, it was a shameful betrayal of their culture.

Seeing Amrou battle their own mental health issues to find love and acceptance in the queer drag scene was incredibly uplifting, even though it wasn’t all plain sailing. I loved how Amrou drew strength from the things in their life that they loved to process their own feelings and how this strength formed the basis of a new relationship with their family – especially their Mum. If you’re looking to read an emotional, beautifully written and honest account of how to belong in a world that doesn’t understand you then this is the book for you.

 

Five “Why can’t I be friends with these people?” out of five for them all!

 

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Please note that I read these book for free in exchange for an honest review courtesy of NetGalley. Thanks NetGalley!

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Mid-Month Mini Reviews – Victorian Gothic

Hello bookworms!

Welcome to another load of mid-month mini-reviews – this time focusing on the Victorian period…

 

Affinity by Sarah Waters

I picked this book up in a charity shop while I was waiting for my car MOT and I’m honestly so glad that I did. I’d never read Sarah Waters before (despite Tipping the Velvet being on my TBR for about 20 years) so I had high expectations – and this book did not disappoint.

Told from the viewpoint of Margaret, a wealthy spinster (God I hate that term) with a desire to help the poor unfortunates incarcerated within Millbank Prison, an encounter with the notorious spiritualist inmate Selina Dawes leaves her reeling. Is Selina truly psychic? Can she help Margaret to deal with the death of her father? Can Margaret help Selina to obtain justice? And is their friendship… something more? Set against a backdrop of heavy prescription drug taking, it’s hard to see where the truth lies – especially in a relationship so heavily weighted by the privilege that money affords you and the desperation to achieve freedom.

I absolutely adored the way that this book was written. I’m such a scaredy cat that certain scenes about wax castings of ghostly apparitions had me completely freaked out! The overall tone was creepy and gothic – much of the book is set within the Victorian prison – but the writing never dragged. Instead, it gave an almost visceral interpretation of the misery, drudgery and relentless monotony of what it would have been like to be locked up in such an institution. I could almost feel the damp stone walls and see the trudging circles of women getting their daily exercise in the bleak prison yard. I hate to use the term “lyrical prose” but yeah… the writing was absolutely beautiful.

The novel is interspersed with the memories of Selina from when she was working as a spiritualist medium and I got completely sucked in by her “powers” (despite the fact I don’t believe in anything paranormal in real life). The relationship between Margaret and Selina was fascinating, exciting and heartbreaking and I LOVED the way that the book ended. If this is one of Sarah Water’s lesser known novels then I can’t wait to read the rest of her work!

 

Four and a half “Look what money can get you” out of five.

 

The Doll Factory by Elizabeth Macneal

I loved this richly evocative tale set in Victorian London of Iris, a talented artist who is taken out of poverty by Louis, a rich pre-Raphaelite painter. Her rags-to-riches story seems almost too good to be true – a new (scandalous) role as an artist’s muse, a huge increase in salary, a love affair with a soon-to-be widowed man – yet there’s a shadow hanging over Iris’ happiness and he goes by the name of Silas…

I have to say how beautiful that book cover is. Just glorious. Like the novel, it juxtaposes the beauty, art and grace of the period with the claustrophobia, death and creepy gothic sensibilities of Victoriana – and I can’t get enough of it. The writing within the book is also hugely evocative and has a bit of everything – sex, obsession, art,  death, taxidermy, disfigurement, filth, light, sadness, romance… and a wombat. Everything felt very authentic to the time period even though the story of a woman striking out on her own felt very modern.

The characters were beautifully depicted, with an attention to detail that made them jump off the page. I could see the dirt under Silas’ fingernails, the emerald green on Louis’ painting, the crimson lips on the doll that Iris was painting. I loved the use of the Great Exhibition as a backdrop to their lives – again, a juxtaposition of all that light and ingenuity and modernity sat right next to the filth and decay of the London slums.

Yes, the writing was a little slow in places but I can forgive that, since this is the author’s debut. I loved the use of detail, the setting and the characterisation and I thought that the constant playing with light and shade, love and obsession, hope and despair was inspired. Elizabeth Macneal is clearly a writer to watch out for.

 

    

Four “Has there ever been a nice character called Silas?” out of five.

 

Things in Jars by Jess Kidd

I’d heard a lot about this book on ye olde Twittersphere but I have to say I was a tiny bit let down by it. It’s certainly a fun romp with a highly eclectic cast of characters but for some reason I just didn’t connect with the writing. Not that it’s bad – it’s just not for me.

Bridie Devine, the infamous female detective is challenged to take on the oddest of cases – the disappearance of Christabel, a strange child with colour changing eyes and extraordinarily sharp teeth. Aided by Ruby, the prizefighting ghost and Cora, the towering, magnificently bearded maid, Bridie attempts to find Christabel but on the way encounters everything from beautiful snake charmers to evil surgeons – plus a whole lot of painful memories.

I love the wacky cast of characters and the excitement of the fast paced prose but I just couldn’t emotionally connect to anyone. There was so much going on, plus plenty of back-and-forths in time that I got a bit confused as to who was who and what on earth was happening. Ultimately, I felt like the side plots took over a bit and detracted from the main narrative, so I wasn’t that bothered with the ending. Lots of people have loved this book but it really wasn’t for me.

 

 

Two and a half “Is that the dead guy?” out of five.

So, have you read any of these books? Do you love a good gothic novel? Are there any Cure fans in the house? Maybe The Smiths? Let me know in the comments!

 

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Review: Come Back For Me by Heidi Perks

Genre: Thriller

Similar to: Now You See Her, The Girl on the Train… all the usual suspects

Could be enjoyed by: Thriller fans – this is definitely a good example of the genre 

Publication date: 1st June 2019

Calling all @HeidiPerksBooks fans! Discover the addictive new thriller from the Sunday Times bestselling author of #NowYouSeeHer…

COME BACK FOR ME, out in eBook on 1st June and hardback on 11th July #COMEBACKFORME

Available for pre-order at https://t.co/oBv5CI3r6w pic.twitter.com/xHIXiYVoJB

— arrowpublishing (@arrowpublishing) May 15, 2019

I feel like I need to start this review with an apology – I received an email giving me super early access to read this book AGES ago and I’ve only just got round to writing the review. Luckily I’ve just about managed to beat the publishing date soooo…. yay? Ooops? Not really sure. Anyway, life has taken over a bit from the blog recently so I’m sorry that I’ve not been around much and I’m sorry that it’s taken me until now to write this review – especially as I really enjoyed Come Back For Me.

Grovel over… on to the review!

Stella grew up on a tiny island just off the British mainland and had a seemingly idyllic childhood – think The Famous Five but without the racism. Then one day – completely out of the blue – her Dad decides that they all have to leave, despite the huge storm that makes it totally unsafe to travel. Despite the fact that the family survive the ferry crossing to the mainland, they’re oddly changed by their move. Stella’s parents split up, her brother moves away and severs contact, her mother dies. She has no idea what happened and longs for her picture perfect childhood home. Then one day she spots her old house on the news – it seems that a body has been found buried in the garden. Stella is both horrified and intrigued and as she struggles to understand the implications of the discovery, she realises that it’s not just human remains that have been uncovered – it’s a web of family secrets too.

I really love the way that Heidi Perks writes. Her descriptions of the island and it’s inhabitants were brilliant and I could see the kind of utopia that she’d created – all children doing wholesome activities like climbing trees whilst their mothers baked bread and hung out the washing. There was a real risk that her setting could have felt too old-fashioned for the 1990’s but it was just the right side of modern but cozy.

The family exodus takes places in the first chapter and my heart was absolutely in my mouth. The writing was so tight and the situation so dangerous that it really kicked things off with a bang. It opened up numerous possibilities for the reasons behind the family needing to urgently leave and I loved how I was immediately drawn into the novel, inventing my own theories as to what had happened straight away.

As the book progressed, the tension built brilliantly and there was a good number of red herrings thrown in to the twisty turny plot that kept me constantly re-evaluating what I thought I knew. I loved the way that island setting slowly moved away being safe and secure to being smotheringly claustrophobic once secrets started to be revealed. I actually struggled to put the book down, so much so that I put off doing some major household tasks so that I could sneakily finish it off. Sorry bathroom ceiling, you’ll have to wait for that final coat of paint!

Overall, I really enjoyed reading Come Back for Me and thought that it was a thoroughly engaging read. My only issue with the novel was with the name of the island – Evergreen. Guess what I was singing in my head every time it was mentioned…

 

 

Four “We’re gonna take this life and make it…” out of five

Really addictive, exciting and fast paced – a hard book to put down.

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Please note that I read this book for free in exchange for an honest review courtesy of NetGalley and Penguin Random House. Thanks to Natalia Cacciatore for giving me advanced access!

 

Mid Month Mini-Reviews – March

Hello bookworms!

Due to the success of my last post, I’m going to keep going with a few more mini-reviews. Look, I even made a graphic! I had no idea how fun these things were to write so I think they might become a monthly feature. Woo hoo! No more trying to drag out interesting comments about dull 2.5 star books.

Today, I’m focusing on clearing out some of my NetGalley backlog, Marie Kondo style. That “older than three months” tab does not spark joy.

 

Golden State by Ben H. Winters

I quite liked this book – it was proper old-fashioned science fiction along the lines of Philip K. Dick and reminded me very much of Minority Report. The story centered around Lazlo Ratesic, a citizen of the Golden State and member of the Speculative Service whose job it was to enforce the Objectively So: the criminal offense of lying. The upholding of the truth requires Lazlo’s special sixth sense combined with the constant surveillance of all Golden State citizens but absolute power corrupts absolutely and when he stumbles across previously unknown truths, his reality unravels.

I really enjoyed the Big Brother overtones within the novel and it was interesting to read from the point of view of the enforcers, not the average dissenting citizen. The world building was great, very cohesive for such a bold idea and held together well. I enjoyed the questions that the book raised around morality – is it possible to be completely honest all of the time? Is freedom always such a good thing or should we appreciate the use of CCTV etc. as a protectionist measure? However, as the book went on it became a bit absurd, then a lot absurd, then descended into an ending that came so far out of left field that it could have belonged to another novel entirely. Still, I enjoyed the majority of the book very much so I gave it:

Three and a half “is honesty always the best policy?” out of five.

 

Greatest Hits by Laura Barnett

I have to say that I really, really tried with this book but unfortunately I had to DNF it at 60% (see, I told you I gave it a good go). It’s well written but, frankly, dull. Cass is  a singer-songwriter re-launching her career after years of shying away from the public and the book flips between her life now and her back story. I initially enjoyed reading about Cass’ early life and relationship with her family but as the book progressed I felt like the action was sorely missing. Cass has a horrible relationship with her jealous boyfriend (another member of the band) but this point is so laboured and the endless chapters about yet another gig, yet another argument, yet another London flat were so repetitive and dull that I lost interest.

I feel like there’s a good story within the novel but to stretch it out over 400 pages was too much for me. When my Kindle estimated that it would still take over three hours for me to finish I made the decision that life was too short and gave up on it.

Two “MY GOD WHEN WILL IT END” out of five.

 

Notes to Self by Emilie Pine

This book is a collection of personal essays focusing on a number of taboo subjects – the alcohol addiction of Emilie Pine’s father, her own problems with fertility, the loss of children, of miscarriage, of regret and death and guilt. Whilst the book is brutally honest, it’s just… a lot. That doesn’t make it bad exactly but it does make it a difficult read. Everything is laid bare in quite a matter-of-fact way and whilst I was glad that Pine never wallowed in self-pity it was the lack of personal reflection that left me feeling a little cold. I struggled to get a handle on who she was and her lack of empathy for others or consideration of the wider issues that impacted upon her life meant that in turn I struggled to empathise with her.

Whilst I wouldn’t say that this book was enjoyable, it was a powerful read containing beautifully written prose. I appreciated the honesty of the author in tackling such difficult subjects but I struggled to connect emotionally.

Three “check your privilege” out of five

 

So, have you read any of these books? Is 60% a ridiculously long way into a book before DNFing it? Let me know in the comments!

 

Review: The Colour of Bee Larkham’s Murder by Sarah J Harris

 

Genre: Adult fiction, Mystery

Similar to: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime

Could be enjoyed by: Fans of quirky characters who don’t mind repetition

Publication date: 27th December 2018

 

Book Riot Read Harder Challenge #13 Read a book by or about someone who identifies as neurodiverse

Jasper is a teenage boy being brought up by his Dad after the death of his Mum some years ago. He’s autistic and also has face blindness (literally doesn’t recognise anyone’s face, only their clothing/jewellery etc.) and synaesthesia (sees colours and patterns when he hears sounds i.e. a barking dog looks like it’s surrounded by yellow french fries). When free spirited Bee Larkham moves into Jasper’s street and starts playing loud “alien” music, disrupting the peace and causing Jasper to see shiny silver shapes, he’s intrigued. When he meets her and finds out that her “colour” is a rare shade of blue (just like his Mum’s) he’s excited. And when he talks to her about his beloved wild parakeets that nest in her tree and she actively encourages them, Jasper thinks he’s made a new best friend. So why is Bee Larkham missing, and why does Jasper think that he’s killed her?

As you can probably already tell, this is a highly original book. Jasper is a great, multi-dimensional character  – an unreliable narrator whose innocent view of the world puts a very different spin on the main narrative. On the other hand, Bee Larkham is a horrible, manipulative individual. She had a terrible childhood and I’d guess that she was mentally ill but she’s literally a paedophile. A lot of people seem to have glossed over this (perhaps because a woman having sex with an underage boy is somehow seen as not as bad as a man having sex with an underage girl?) but as far as I’m concerned abuse is abuse – and there’s a lot of it in the book. However, because of Jasper’s narration, it’s all wrapped up in a kind of cozy, childlike innocence that takes away from some of the horror – but works brilliantly to amplify it when something bad happens to him.

The main plot of the book is fairly straightforward, but with Jasper narrating the action you have to very carefully read between the lines to see what’s really going on. His inability to recognise faces (even those of his parent’s) adds another layer of complexity, although this makes the story somewhat hard to follow in places and the repetition of endless descriptions of colours did get a bit tedious. I also thought that the plot could have been a bit tighter – to me, the book felt overly long and there were some slack parts during the middle chapters where nothing really happened.

I enjoyed the juxtaposition of the light and shade within the novel – the overall tone was lighthearted and amusing despite the dark subject matter. Jasper was totally naive to the situation going on around him but there was just enough information for the reader to be able to guess at what was really happening. There were a few red herrings thrown in for good measure too, which kept me on my toes and meant that I didn’t even begin to guess at what the final conclusion might be.

Overall, I liked The Colour of Bee Larkham’s Murder for it’s charm, complexity and uniqueness but there were times when the writing got a bit tedious and I disengaged from the storyline. I liked the neurodiverse representation and felt that this really added to the intrigue but the novel felt overly long and I sometimes found it hard to follow who was who. It’s a shame because this could have been an absolutely brilliant read – it’s certainly a great idea – but unfortunately the author didn’t quite pull it off.

 

Three and a half “don’t eat that pie!”s out of five.

Quirky, funny but oh-so repetitive and slow in parts.

A good – but sadly not great – read.  

 

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Please note that I read this book for free in exchange for an honest review courtesy of NetGalley. Thanks NetGalley!

 

Review: Once Upon A River by Diane Setterfield

 

Genre: Literary fiction

Similar to: A slower version of The Essex Serpent

Could be enjoyed by: Fans of literary fiction who don’t mind a dash of magical realism

Publication date: 17th January 2018

 

This is an awkward post to write. Initially, I LOVED Once Upon A River – like, sent out a tweet that the author liked about how much I was enjoying it – but once I got into the book…well… I got a little bogged down.

Let me explain…

It’s midwinter in England, in the old Swan Inn on the banks of the Thames. Stories are being told by candlelight by the village locals. Suddenly, a man bursts through the doors, heavily beaten and holding what appears to be a doll. But when the villagers try to help him, they realise that he’s holding the body of a drowned girl. They lay her to rest in a room on her own but hours later – a miracle! – she stirs and seems to come back to life. So starts a tale of intrigue, deception and magic, heavily laden with folklore.

So far so good.

But when the entire book is based around who is the girl  in an age when no-one could tell for sure, I felt like I was literally getting caught in the weeds.

Luckily, Once Upon A River is beautifully, magically written. The prose is lyrical, flowing, well… like a river. However, it also meanders about, with a huge cast of characters forming a number of slower moving tributaries that feed into the main narrative flow. The symbolism wasn’t lost on me but it took a while to understand. It also made the pace of the book s-l-o-w… really slow. Occasionally, the storyline was so stagnant I thought we’d veered off course into an oxbow lake. The gorgeous writing just about managed to pull me through the silt though.

The book is also incredibly atmospheric. I could literally see the characters (there’s pages and pages of descriptive text) even though they’re numerous and somewhat similar. Combined with the writing style this made the novel far more engaging but after a while, instead of gliding effortlessly through the prose I felt like I was drowning in it. I got somewhat swamped by the side stories and exhausted by the sense that I was treading water, waiting for the next thing to happen.

Oddly, the narrative picked up pace towards the end – to the point of feeling a little rushed – which I found quite jarring. I didn’t fully understand the ending (I sensed some kind of moral message but couldn’t quite decipher it) although I appreciated how the author tied all of the narrative threads together. I hated the idea that getting married and having a baby would make everything better though.

Overall, this was a very difficult book to review. I can completely see why some people (a lot of people) have given it five stars – it’s an easy book to immerse yourself in. However, I struggled with the slow pace and the lack of action. Whilst I quite enjoyed reading Once Upon A River, I didn’t love it – but I’m sure plenty of other people will.

Three “the words LITERALLY washed over me”s out of five.

Beautifully written and highly original but a little slow for my taste.

 

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Please note that I read this book for free in exchange for an honest review courtesy of NetGalley. Thanks NetGalley!

 

Review: The Map of Us by Jules Preston

Genre: Fiction

Similar to: A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman

Could be enjoyed by: Quirky fiction lovers

Publication date: 4th May 2018

In keeping with my highly focused and organised lifestyle, I’ve FINALLY got round to reading and reviewing The Map of Us which I requested one whole year ago on Netgalley. Better late than never!

You see, the reason that I delayed…and delayed…and delayed reading the book was that I simply had no idea why I requested it. I think I got sucked in by all of the “next Eleanor Oliphant” hype but in reality it’s nothing like that.

The Map of Us is a complicated story of one family across the generations. There’s Violet, physically disabled and seemingly disowned by her family, growing up at a time when that kind of treatment was somewhat socially acceptable; Tilly, her granddaughter who likes statistics, analyses her relationships with quantitative data and creates a Compatibility Index to prove where her and her ex went wrong; her father who is a professional sand sculptor; her sister who is addicted to buying designer handbags she can’t afford and her brother who is leading world authority on the colour blue. There’s also a whole host of other odd people who crop up along the way, adding to the narrative of the numerous main characters. And – hahaha – they’re all super quirky too! Hahahaha…ha. Oh.

To me, it felt like the characters were all a bit, well, weird purely for the sake of it. Don’t get me wrong, I love an oddball but when literally everyone in the book has their own thing going on that is nothing whatsoever to do with the main narrative then it gets a bit tedious. It’s even harder when the novel is character driven and the plot is wafer thin. For example, Tilly’s Dad refuses to sculpt dolphins, even though they always win the competitions that he enters. Fine – that’s a nicely observed bit of humour but the point was repeated so many times it felt utterly laboured.

My other issue was with the structure of the book. The chapters are written from a first person perspective but it takes a while for you to work out who is actually speaking and that there’s more than one narrator. This stops being a problem once you’ve got to know the family a bit – the chapters are short so it doesn’t take too long – but it is quite hard to get into at first. I don’t know why you’d deliberately make it awkward for the reader?

Overall, I think my main issue was that I just couldn’t engage with the characters and as such, wasn’t really bothered about what happened to them. The book was described as being charming and quirky and I can see why but for me it needed more action and a stronger narrative thread. I didn’t hate the book – it was a nice enough read but unfortunately I got bored with it all.

Two and a half “Oh, do grow up”s out of five.

Cute and quirky but kinda dull. Not for me!

 

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Please note that I read this book for free in exchange for an honest review courtesy of NetGalley. Thanks NetGalley!

 

 

Review: Of Women by Shami Chakrabarti

Genre: Non-fiction, feminist literature

Similar to: A Good Time to be a Girl

Could be enjoyed by: People looking for a broad overview of feminist issues

Publication date: 26th October 2017 

*puffs out cheeks, blows out through pursed lips* 

Yeah.

This book was so close to being a DNF multiple times but I was just about interested enough to keep going. 

JUST.

Of Women in the 21st Century (to give it it’s full title) is a series of essay-like chapters regarding the treatment of women in various different areas of life (education, faith, healthcare etc.) highlighting the myriad of injustices that they face. Light bedtime reading it ain’t.

As the description suggests, the book is, well…it’s pretty depressing. There are SO MANY issues facing women and Shami Chakrabarti has detailed them all, with credible stats and references, eleventy billion times throughout the text. My main takeaway is that women are basically f*cked.

And that’s my problem, because I’m generally a positive little sunflower and I like to think that the world is ever so slowly changing for the better. I know that all these problems exist but there are lots of people working very hard to tackle them. It would have been great if they had got a mention – or if Chakrabarti has proposed her own solutions in a more concrete fashion.

I’m not knocking the inclusion of facts and figures in the book – far from it, Of Women is impeccably researched – but that doesn’t make for an enjoyable reading experience. The endless stats became meaningless when read as large chunks of text and the whole thing felt highly impersonal. I didn’t disagree with anything that she said but I wasn’t fired up by her arguments either.

I also felt that the book was highly, highly biased. There was no interrogation of the data presented and no consideration for any counter-arguments. I also got the impression (even though it’s not overtly stated) that it’s those bloody Conservatives who have caused/failed to solve some of the problems detailed – remembering of course that Chakrabarti is a Labour Party politician. Again, I didn’t necessarily disagree with what she was saying but it was all very one sided.

However, there were some parts of the book that were genuinely enjoyable. In particular, the section on faith was really interesting and well researched. I think this area is often overlooked in feminist discussions so it felt like Chakrabarti was bringing something new to the table, instead of summarising the main points of old ground.

Overall, I felt like the book was a fantastic overview, a starting point, an introduction to some of these issues but the tone of the piece was so dry and heavygoing that I could only really recommend it as a reference book for the basics of gender studies.

Rating: Two and a half stars out of five.

A good overview of the main issues facing women but written in such a dry, uninspiring fashion that what should be a hard-hitting account became meaningless.

Please note that I read this book for free via Netgalley in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks Netgalley! 

Review: The Cows by Dawn O’Porter

“Don’t follow the herd”

Genre: Fiction *refuses to say chick lit*

Similar to: Marian Keyes? (she says having never read any Marian Keyes)

Could be enjoyed by: People who think feminism is the Spice Girls shouting “Girl Power!”

Publication date: 6th April 2017

I really like Dawn O’Porter so I was expecting great things from her novel The Cows, but oh my goodness what a letdown. The characters were horrible, the scenarios they found themselves in were utterly ridiculous, no research had been done and the sentences all went on and on, forever, like this, with far too many, commas. Urgh.

The Cows is the story of three women: Camilla, a blogger; Tara, a TV producer of investigative documentaries and Stella, a PA. Now, the whole premise of the book is that women shouldn’t be defined by whether they have kids or not. We’re far more complicated and nuanced than that. OK? Because what you also need to know is that:

Camilla is option A: Does not want kids. 

Tara is option B: Has kids.

Stella is option C: Doesn’t have kids but wants them.

These choices define absolutely every action that the characters take. The entire book is about the very thing it purports to be against.

AARGH!

The book tries to be funny, irreverent and lighthearted so features all of the usual tropes: death, living with the BRCA gene, the desperation of wanting a baby before it’s too late, mental health issues, abortion, isolation…what? You don’t think these themes are funny? That’s probably because they’re not. At all. You’d need to be a fairly skilled writer to include any of them in a humorous novel without being eye-strainingly jarring. And after reading The Cows – I have eye strain.

There’s a lot that I could rant about but I’ll give you a little example of how farfetched this book is. Camilla the blogger has eleventy billion followers that she found by printing off flyers and posting them to her neighbours. She blogs every day by thinking “hmmmmm” then brain dumps whatever’s on her mind, uploads it to her site then swanks off for some casual sex with her twentysomething hunk boyfriend. Approx. time blogging: half an hour. This makes her a millionaire. 

I laughed SO HARD.

The characters are all basically horrible people. Camilla -no-kids writes awful blog posts about not wanting children, shaming those who do because she had to be “controversial” (at one point she sees her sister (three kids) naked and describes in detail how the little darlings have ravaged her body, leaving her sounding like an incontinent old crone). Tara-one-kid gets caught masturbating on the tube (don’t ask – also an empty tube in central London on a Friday night – as if) and goes into woe-is-me meltdown, losing her job and being publicly shamed because she’s a woman (which, while I understand the double standard around sex for men and women, I actually think worked in her favour since she wasn’t arrested for public indecency). And Stella-wants-kids is a woman losing her grip on reality, facing her own terrifying demons, dealing with the death of both her Mum and twin sister plus the knowledge that she carries the BRCA gene. So she tries to seduce her boss purely so she can get pregnant by telling him she has cancer and hoping for a calculated sympathy shag. I don’t even know what to say about that if I’m honest. 

It was this sheer lack of subtlety in the writing which astounded me. When one of the characters makes a dubious moral choice (has a baby without telling the father), Dawn O’Porter clearly thought “I’d better clear this mess up!” so *spoiler alert* has her find him (takes five minutes of tracking down, how fortuitous), tells him but then “from the look in his eyes she could tell he wasn’t interested and she’d made the right choice in not saying anything”. Erm sorry but that’s bullshit. He might need, oooh I don’t know…ten minutes to absorb the information that he has an eight year old with a woman he can’t remember? 

In the end, I was thoroughly bored of this book. I give it plus points for showing a bit of female solidarity and a couple of chapters of female friendship but overall I found it jarring, clumsy and horribly stereotypical. Lots of people seem to think it’s hilarious but it really wasn’t for me. 

Rating: Two “don’t follow the herd who are reading this book” out of five.

Please note that I read this book for free via NetGalley in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks NetGalley!