Life After Life ~by Kate Atkinson

Simply put - I loved this book.  Life After Life - by Kate Atkinson, is a book you will not be able to put down.  It is a definite choice for your 'must read' list this summer.  Its fascinating structure, is like nothing I have ever read before and kept me enthralled throughout.
The story is based on an age old question: what would we do differently if we could live our lives over again? As such, the novel  is quite philosophical at times, prompting its readers to consider the big ideas: life, death and fate.
I mean, if you could go back and live your life over, what one thing would you change?  Avoid ever meeting your ex?  Stand up to that bully in school?  Somehow prevent Princess Diana from visiting Paris in August 1997... or maybe from marrying Prince Charles in 1981?  But surely if you could go back in time and change history, you would make it momentous: foil the September 11 plot, murder Hitler?  These are the thoughts that must have pulled at Kate Atkinson's mind as she danced her way through this novel, and it certainly feels like this was a pleasurable book to write.  The characters can live forever - dying, then being reborn, over and over : they can survive anything.  There is something very satisfying, as a reader, to know that the people in the story will make it through; that no matter how bad things get, they will be okay.  . This very plot device enables Atkinson to deal with some very disturbing issues, such as rape, domestic abuse and murder, in a palatable way.  And in turn, she makes us, as readers, face the idea in our own lives: no matter how bad it gets, where there is life...

The protagonist, Ursula Todd, is born in 1910, in rural England, as the snow begins to fall, but lack of medical assistance and a complication at birth, means that she dies immediately.  In an instant, she is reborn, as the snow falls and the story begins again, made possible because one detail was changed: this time her mother had a small pair of scissors at hand to cut the cord.  And so the story progresses, moving swiftly through the Great War period, and up to and beyond World War Two, with Ursula dying many times, and being reborn over and over.  And so we come to realise that the title, 'Life After Life', actually refers to a series of lives, following one after the next and not a reference to the afterlife that one usually associates with dying.

One thing that I noticed in the book, was that, perhaps, it was not only Ursula who could go back in time and change history.  It seems that her mother too, made notes on how to do things differently 'next time round' - like when Ursula died the first time - 'remember to keep a small pair of scissors nearby', she tells herself.

 I thought it interesting too that the only thing that Ursula wanted of her mother's, years later, was the carriage clock, which her mother, in turn, had taken from her mother's home.  This special clock, with its associations time and perhaps time-travel,  passing from mother to daughter, is a very interesting concept and added a layer of detail to the story that was delightful.

Indeed, there is much food for thought in this novel, but more than anything, it is a hugely enjoyable read, with characters that live and breath, and will haunt you long after the final page has been turned and the book returned to the shelf.  Simply put - read 'Life After Life, by Kate Atkinson, or spend the rest of the year wishing that you had.

By Michelle Burrowes  

The Pleasure Seekers~ by Tishani Doshi

Alive with the sounds, tastes and smells of India, here is book to set your taste buds tingling! While 'The Pleasure Seekers' ostensibly tells the story of a young Indian man, Babo, who falls in love with Sian, a red-headed girl from Wales, it is much more than that.  The opening paragraph recounts a dream- the very first dream- of Prem Kumar Patel, Babo's father, in which he climbs mountains trying to find his wife and four children, feeling as if he was taken 'back to the coils of his mother's womb' and hurled 'to the end of his life'.  Such is the imaginative, metaphorical scope of poet, turned novelist,Tishani Doshi, whose prose style is the most original aspect of the book.  Indeed, as is often the case with modern novels, nothing very unusual or unexpected happens in this story; it traces the life-events of one family over a number of years, charts the highs and lows of life that we are all familiar with.  Yet what is original about his story is the way that Doshi considers these mundane events and shares her thoughts with the reader.  In this way, the book is more than anything a philosophical novel. Perhaps I should be more specific and say that this is a book filled with the author's views about life, people and familial relationships.

As the book is primarily a story of enduring love, despite prohibitive distances, both culturally and geographically; there is much for the author to ponder about the bonds that hold families together and the contradictory human desire to strike out alone in the world.  There is something which drives us all to become separate from the humans who created us, and this is what makes the book an interesting read.

I found  that Doshi was particularly insightful when it came to dissecting the mother-daughter bond, and the often traumatic separation that occurs in families whose parents hail from two, different countries.  The sense of belonging nowhere, yet yearning for a home place, is keenly felt on every page.

While I was captivated by the initial scenario, which is loosely based on Dohi's own parent's relationship, I did find that the second half of the book was somewhat disappointing.  The depiction of the parents as the eternal honeymooners, was particularly unrealistic in my point of view and detracted from the overall veracity of the text.
However, this minor disappointment was more than made up for by the wonderful character of Ba, the wise old grandmother, a semi-witch -like figure, whose blindness was compensated for by her extraordinary sense of smell.  Ba was a women who could foretell a child's future at a glance and could smell that guests were arriving , though they were many miles away.  It seems ridiculous I know, but Doshi manages to bring this almost mystical character into the novel and allows her to live side by side with her other more mundane earthlings.  This is a sign of the poet's deftness as she forces us to suspend our disbelief because Ba represents everything that we like to associate with India: mysticism, wisdom, knowledge, and ancient goodness.  I do not think that I would have enjoyed the novel half so much without her colourful presence in the book.
I cannot end without noting the many mouth-watering references to food in the novel: I had an appetite for Indian cuisine the entire time that I was reading the book.  I get the sense that food and the preparation of it is hugely important to the author, and her characters too.  And while the book begins with the story of the male protagonist, Babo, this is very much a story about women, mothers, daughters and wives; their lives, their choices and their relationships.  For this alone, I think the novel is worth sampling, and if nothing else, it will give you a taste of India that will send you scurrying to the pantry for that bag of rice, and that tin of coriander, to recreate something of the sensual journey that is promised by 'The Pleasure Seekers'.

By Michelle Burrowes  

The Heavenly Guide to Book-Clubing with 'The Book Club Bible'

So you have joined a book club and this month it is your turn to select the next text.  What do you choose?  You don't want to pick a book that you have already read, because that goes against the whole point of joining a book club, but you want your book suggestion to be a hit with your friends.  Do you rely on the tastes of the person working in your local book shop, or search on-line for recommendations from book-bloggers like me?  It might be worth a try, but there is an alternative:  'The Book Club Bible', published by Michael O'Mara Books.  
Inside you will find a two-page spread on each novel consisting of a short, non-spoiler synopsis; opinions from a reviewer or 'ordinary' reader; discussion points; focusing on themes, characters and writer's style; background information and suggested companion books.  What could be more simple, or more useful?  
The books are listed alphabetically under the author and they range from classics, such as 'The Scarlett Letter' and 'Catcher in the Rye', to modern texts, like 'The Book Thief' and 'The Lovely Bones'.  Believe me, if you love books, you will want to curl up on a sofa and devour this delicious paperback. 
Alongside the various book suggestions are page-long lists of recommended texts under various headings, such as: 'Top Ten Crime books' and 'Top Ten Quick Reads'.  These are invaluable lists, especially if your reading group selects books based on genre or theme. With over 200 suggestions inside, this handbook is a must for anyone in a book club and for simply anyone who is searching for that perfect book.  
And if this book inspires you to set-up your very own book club, here are some tips to get you started:

1. You don't need to know everyone in your book club.  You could ask four of your friends to join and ask them to each bring a friend.  You will get to know each other soon enough. About eight or nine people is enough.  Any bigger and you run the risk of people breaking up into smaller groups during the discussion and the overall meeting collapses into a free-for-all.
2. Avoid turning your meetings into a cooking competition by establishing a simple routine: the host provides a light cheese and wine supper, although alcohol is not obligatory and can lead to some very passionate debates!  
3. Each member should read the book - make this a must from the outset.  Stimulating conversation depends on it.  If there is one 'rule' that needs to be agreed from the start, this is it!
4. Books should not have been read before - this ensures that members do not get offended if you did not like the book they selected. If nobody knew what the book would be like beforehand, then no one can be blamed for selecting it.
5. Meeting on the last Thursday of the month say, or the first Tuesday, gives the club a regular routine that people can plan their lives around.  
6. Effort should be made to ask each member what they thought of the book at some point during the night.  This will ensure that no one person will dominate the meeting.
7. Make a schedule for the first eight or nine months, depending on the number of members, so that each person knows what month they will be hosting ahead of time.  
8. Call your friends over and get reading!

While book clubs may be seen as being purely in the domain of women, I do know of one male book club where the members meet in a quiet upstairs room at a pub, thereby avoiding all the hassle of hosting, cooking and frantic house-cleaning.  How ingenious.  That way, it becomes all about the book and if I were to ever begin a book club in the future, that is certainly how I would do it.  So what is stopping you?  With these suggestions and 'The Book Club Bible' to get you started, your meetings will surely be blessed!

By Michelle Burrowes

Cutting for Stone ~ Abraham Verghese

This book would better be titled  'Cutting for Sand', because that is the texture that I am reminded of a day after having finished this book.  There is a grittiness to this novel, a novel that I should have, in theory, loved.  The story is a compelling one: an Ethiopian surgeon is searching for answers about his parents; a British surgeon and an Indian nun.  To add spice to the story, the narrator, Marion Stone is one of a set of conjoined twins, abruptly separated at birth in an attempt to save their lives.  Shiva, the narrator's twin brother, grows up to be nothing like his identical sibling, although they maintain an intense relationship and share many experiences.   Strangely enough, this book has a number of similarities with 'The Twin' by Gerbrand Bakker, which I recently read and reviewed, including, very oddly, a bit about killing a sack puppies with a car!  As you would expect, connections, the choices that we make and the things that make us individuals are central themes in both texts. 


And here is the beginning of my difficulty with this book.  At thirteen, the boys become fixated with sex but act upon their desires in different ways.  What I had a problem with was the way in which women were throwing themselves at these young boys, who, although they were tall and lean, were, after all, just boys.  Why would women in their thirties do this?  It seems hardly believable.  I think it was because the author needed to have Marion's life messed-up good and early, so that he could find redemption later on and still be young enough to enjoy it.


One thing I did like was the 'missing' motif that ran through the book.  Indeed 'Missing' could have been the book's title: each character is missing something, a part of themselves, a parent, a loved one... but mostly a parent.  Verghese describes a fragmented society with broken people desperately trying to make themselves and others whole.   As a result, the adults spend all their time trying to find what is lost.  The narrator tells us, at the start of the book, his theory about doctors: they are all trying to heal their own sickness, to make themselves whole again.  This is a very interesting idea, and so every character has some 'lack' that they are struggling with.  Hema, the twins foster mother, is career-driven, until, after a near death experience, she discovers a powerful maternal instinct.  Thomas stone, the twin's father, lost a beloved mother when he was a child and is an emotional recluse as a result.  It is not lost on the reader that the hospital in Ethiopia, where all of the main characters work and live, is called 'Missing', a mispronunciation of 'Mission' which is a very fitting moniker for this motley crew of lost and broken.  

“I will not cut for stone,” the Hippocratic oath states,  “even for patients in whom the disease is manifest; I will leave this operation to be performed by practitioners, specialists in this art.”  It seems that the cryptic title of the book, although poetic in its own sense, refers to the act of surgery, in terms of 'cutting' out a kidney or gallbladder 'stone'.  Also, the writer is punning on the name of the main character's family name: Stone.  This is fitting because, ultimately, this is a book about medicine and the life of a surgeon.  I felt like I had gone through a medical degree by the end of this novel.  Every page is full of medical Latinate terminology and consulted the dictionary regularly.  Still, I do not think that this diminished the book's appeal  in any way, but added to it.  It is obvious that the author is himself a surgeon and his passion for his work is undeniable. 

I also enjoyed the way the world of Ethiopia was described, through  the senses.  It reminded me of 'Purple Hibiscus' by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, with it sights, tastes and smells of exotic Africa.  I felt as if I was breathing the high-altitude air of the mountain city of Addis Abeba, and really felt close to its clever and beautiful people.  Surely that is the true measure of a good book, whether or not it takes you on a journey, and that is something that Verghese easily has accomplished.  As an Ethiopian, living in America, we can sense the love of his native country, despite the poverty and violence there.  We follow the narrator as he travels to New York, straight from a war zone, and it is shocking to see the difference between the developed and developing worlds, and very disturbing too.  

Thematicallt, this  is a book about men and their relationships with women; how they adore their mothers, fall in love, and how they deal with sex.  Central to the plot is how people can be haunted by their relationships with their mothers.  The most heart-breaking image in the story is of four year old Marion Stone, sitting on his mother's chair, wrapped in her cardigan, in the operating room where he was born, and his mother died, calling to her to come for him.  'When are you coming mother?', he quietly asks.  The mother-son relationship is at the heart of this book and all other relationships with women dwindle in comparison.  The women in this book suffer greatly and it was one thing I had difficulty with.  So many of them are brutalised and mutilated, but none more than Sister Mary Joseph Praise as she gives birth to her sons.  I wonder why Verghese treated this angelic, beautiful character in this way?  I am sure he wished to create a martyr out of her, but the violent nature of her demise was too extreme in my view and quiet out of the middle ages in its barbarity.   And so you understand why this book reminds me of the texture of sand: it can be pleasing to touch, but it just lingers on, annoyingly, between your toes, and in your teeth, spoiling any initial pleasure.  With his depiction and destruction of women in this text, Verghese took 'Cutting for Stone' too far at times and crushed it to the consistency of sand.  I recommend this book but add a proviso: not for the squeamish or those that cannot abide the sight of blood.  

By Michelle Burrowes

The Twin ~ Gerbrand Bakker

The great enigma of this book is the twin of the title.  We never get to meet Henk in any real sense: he dies before the story begins and what we learn about him is all second hand and unashamedly  biased.  For Helmer, the book's narrator, he was his other half - his twin brother with whom he shared everything: his thoughts and fears; his violent father; his warm childhood bed and his home in rural Holland.  A fatal car crash ripes the twins apart and the book depicts a family in mourning following the death of a loved-one.  It begins some twenty years after Henrk's death, but Helmer and his father are in a world where time stands still; each one aching for the missing person in their lives and mad as hell about it.
The father, old Mr Van Wonderan, is an elderly farmer and relies on his remainling son, Helmer, to see to his every need.  But that is just it, Helmer does not see to his needs, but instead in a horrible power-play, he delights in neglecting his aged parent at every possible opportunity.  When Mr Van Wonderan says he is thirsty, Helmer says that he gets thirsty too, and leaves his father longing for a drink for hours.  This is how Helmer repays his father for ill-treating  him as a boy and for forcing him to give-up his dreams of a different life.  Helmer longs to travel and to explore, but he is weighed-down by responsibilities of the farm and by his anger and grief at the loss of his twin brother.
It is only when a strange young boy, also called Helmer, comes to stay on the farm, that things begin to change.  Suddenly Helmer is brought face to face with someone who needs him; someone who forces Helmer to realise that life is not to be wasted; that he loved his brother, lost that love, but must move on. The change is presipitated by a near death experience after an accident on the farm and when Helmer is given the kiss of life by young Henk.  With this 'kiss', he is 'reborn' and begins to slowly come back to life.

 It is also young Henk who asks him. 'what was it like to have a twin?'  This is a turning point for Helmer, who has never spoken of his deep feelings for his brother to anyone. He breaks down in tears saying: 'It's the most beautiful thing in the world...When we touched each other we touched ourselves.  Feeling someone else's heartbeat and feeling it's your own, you can't get any closer than that.'

While this book deals specifically about being a twin, it also deals with the feelings of loneliness that we all feel, as we move through life, loose loved-ones and try to find our own place in the world.  And while all this sounds very depressing, it is true to say that there is much that is compelling and life-affirming about this beautiful book.

There is a quietness about it that is perfectly in keeping with the landscape of Holland.  The dykes, low-lying ground and windmills are wonderfully described; the simplistic language of the text perfectly suiting the sparse physical landscape.  This is an introspective novel, where the narrator bears his soul to the world.  This creates a very personal tale, yet it is a universal one too.  It deals with every emotion associated with sudden death; loss rejection, abandonment and the anger of being left behind.

Yet, on one level, the twin of the title is a metaphor for the 'other' that we all search for in life, the thing that will fulfill us and make us feel complete.  And this is ultimately what 'The Twin' is about: becoming whole.  At different stages in the book various people become the twin for Helmer.  At one point it is his mother; his ally when he tries to go to college; then it is Jaap, the farmhand-friend, who teaches him how to swim and makes him feel whole again.  At one point, young Helmer also becomes a surrogate twin, bringing him the physical closeness that he missed so much when his brother died.  Each character, to varying degrees enables Helmer to face up to his fears and helps him to find happiness in being alone. The irony is, of course, that when he was surround by his family and friends, he felt most lonely, but as they all left and he was actually on his own, specifically at the very end of the book, he did not feel lonely any more: 'I stay sitting calmly.  I am alone'.  Of course, Helmer is not actually alone.  He is surrounded by people who care about him, but it is only when he lets go of his grief, that he can let love in.

I urge you to read this book.  It is a simple story, told as much through imagery as anything else, and so reminds me in many ways of a thought-provoking poem.  In a book where death can come in the form of an humble egg ( a thing usually associated with the beginning of life) and where omens are foretold by the presence of a black hooded-crow, you cannot help but be enthralled.  This novel may be about twins, but you will have to go a long way to find another one like it, believe me.  Now go read it!

'The Troubled Man' ~ Henning Mankell

I suppose beginning with the final novel in a book series is not usually recommended, but as this was a book club choice, I really had no option. I had seen the Swedish television adaptation, of Henning Mankell's 'Wallander', which I really enjoyed, so I thought that I could just hop in.  I think my sheer optimism was my first mistake!
The brutal truth is that I didn't really enjoy reading this book, although I can see much to appreciate here.  We have a brooding, melancholic central character in a stark and bleak Swedish landscape.  He deals with the flotsam and jetsam of society, the criminals, the broken, the lost, and each case effects him in a different way.  Although the story is told in the third person, the reader feels like we are inside Wallander's head as he ponders life and death, and re-lives old cases and old love affairs.

In reality, most of the time, he wanders from place to place beating himself up about his broken marriage and his fractious relationship with his daughter.  In this novel, Wallander becomes a grandfather, and so he has another family member to worry and fret about. This ensures that the better-sweet memories he has of being a father is a central theme of this text.
As detective thrillers go, I don't think that Wallander did much detecting; mostly helpful clues in the guise of letters and witnesses turned up out of the blue while other police-officers handed him all the more vital pieces of information.  As for 'thrilling', well I found the book left me more depressed than thrilled, dealing, as it does, with death, old age and saying goodbye to one's youth.  Of course, Wallander's granddaughter does bring new life to the story, but it can hardly outweigh the sheer tonnage of gloom in this book.
One cannot ignore Mankell's highly visual writing style, albeit stark and sparse for the most part. I leave the book feeling as though I have holidayed in Sweden and have enjoyed the odd vodka and glass of wine there myself. Indeed, Wallander spends so much of the novel eating and drinking, that even I was fearful for his ever increasing blood sugar levels.
So, I do not think I will be dashing out to purchase my next Wallander novel, but I can understand why others might want to.  I will be satisfied to join him again on television re-runs, where the faster pace seems to suit this slow-moving detective all the more, in my opinion.

The Shuttle ~ by Frances Hodgson Burnett

 If there was ever a period drama adaptation waiting to happen, it is this book by 'Secret Garden' author, Frances Hodgson Burnett.  It has everything you would want in a period drama: the fiery female heroine, the brooding hero, the despicable villain and the benevolent father.  Indeed, this novel is a mixture of all the best parts of my favourite novels: the undying sisterly love of 'Pride and Prejudice', the palpable, simmering violence of 'Wuthering Heights', and the impossible love of 'Jane Eyre'.  
     So, why had I never heard of this book before?  Published in 1907, this text has been forgotten, just like the garden in the author's more well-known tome.   Indeed there are moments in this novel when it feels as if we have returned to the secret garden, as adults, and are allowed to step amongst the ruins of a wonderfully, dilapidated landscape that is crying out for a make over.  
     Into this air-less, lost landscape, comes the beautiful Bettina Vanderpoel, a wealthy American heiress, who is searching for her older sister Roaslie, who a dozen years before married Sir Nigel Anstruthers.  He is a tyrannous English aristocrat who only wed Rosalie for the great wealth that she would bring to his English estate. Of course he was a cad and ruthlessly crushed and brutalised her spirit, leaving her a mere shadow of her former self.  He spent her money and left her to rot in his decaying mansion, with only their young, ailing, son for company.  
     Bettina is like a magical princess whose beauty awakens the tired and sleeping land and with her energy brings it and it's lethargic inhabitants back to life. She rescues her sister and begins to salvage what is left of her crumbling home.  The results are breath-taking. She uses her endless supply of money to employ the local tradesmen and modernise and rejuvenate wherever she goes. Not only do we find a garden that needs a make-over, but there is an entire English village and its inmates that have been completely neglected, along with its local artistocracy,Lord  Mount Dunstan and Lady Anstruthers, who are veritible Miss Havishams, creeking and web-draped in their various forgotten mansions, decaying and stagnant in a gothic nightmare-reality. 
      Miss Vanderpoel  is a wonderfully strong female character, clever and entertaining and full of sense.  Considering that the novel was written when women had not yet won the right to vote, she seems to be way ahead of her time.  This comment is a case in point:  'Eve has always struck me as being the kind of woman who, if she lived today, would run up stupid bills at her dressmakers and be afraid to tell her husband'.  The novel is full of such witty observations and as such reminds me a little of Austen at times..  
     But while Bettina seems to have everything that money can buy, she cannot have the one thing she wants - the love of Mount Dunstan, the owner of the adjoining estate.  Like Elizabeth Bennent, she begins to fall in love with this dark-red-haired, brooding man,  as soon as she sees his enormous house and grounds:  'It was beautiful. As she walked on she saw it rolled into the woods and deeps filled with bracken;... she caught the gleam of a lake with swans sailing slowly upon it with curved necks; there were wonderful lights and wonderful shadows, and brooding stillness, which made her footfall upon the road a too material thing...'.  
     She longs to bring the sleeping medieval manor-house back to life, but Dunstan is a proud man and does not believe in marrying for money.  If he is to save his land, he is to do it by himself.  Yet, he is not immune to the allure of Miss Bettina Vanderpoel.  We are told,  'On his part, he... found himself newly moved by the dower nature had bestowed on her.  Had the world ever held before a woman creature so much longed for?'  So, a conundrum.  
     Running alongside this deliciously understated love affair, is the battle of wills between Bettina and her evil brother-in-law, Sir Nigel Anstruthers.  The two are evenly matched but on the opposite spectrum of good and evil.  And he is evil,a fiend of the worst order.  The unfolding power-play makes for excellent drama and produces a novel that you will not be able to put down.  The last 50 pages flashed by at break-neck pace; leading to a thrilling ending that did not disappoint.  
      As someone who spent many years to-ing and fro-ing between America and England, Hodgson Burnett excellently captures the differences between the two nations, focusing on the good and bad of each.  Ultimately, she seems to be suggesting that, where there is love, there is everything to be gained by the alliance of the wealth from the new world, and the beauty and culture of the old one.  There is no denying how fresh, new money, and new blood, can only benefit the English aristocracy and their beleaguered estates, but inevitably, there is more than just money involved:  the energy of the New World is what is also lacking in old England, and ultimately the idea of 'working for a living' is a necessity for everyone regardless of class. 
     The characters in this book would not have been out of place in a Hardy novel and many of my favourite scenes took place within the tiny parlours of the village houses, where little kindnesses engendered so much warmth and humanity.  Mr Doby with his adoring dewy eyes and his clay pipe, being my very favourite. 
      I ask again, why has this book, all 500 hundred pages of it, been so forgotten by the masses?  Is it simply because of the poor title?  Where is its sumptuous BBC dramatisation?  I call on scriptwriter, Andrew Davies and television producer Sue Birtwistle to get their skates on... you might just get this in the can in time for next Christmas, if you start on it right away.  I look forward to seeing it.  In the meantime - make sure you get a copy (it's free on Kindle due to lapsed copywright) and start reading right away. 
       If you have ever read any of Kate Morton's books and enjoyed them, well this reads like the original archetype. I think she must be a huge fan of Hodgson Burnett, so similar are the writing styles.  It is 'The Secret Garden', for  grown-ups, with a hint of gothic-thriller thrown in. I see Liv Tyler as Bettina and Benedict Cumberbatch as Mount Dunstan...?  It is going to happen any day now.  One doesn't mind waiting when such delights lie in store. 
 clear

Water for Elephants ~ by Sara Gruen

'Water for Elephants', by Sara Gruen was just what I needed on a busy weekend in September.  Once started, I couldn't leave it down for long; it demanded that I give it the attention it deserved.  On a macro level this is a story about a young couple in love;  a small clown; a drunken angel; an elephant; a monkey and a circus.  There is  no denying the allure of the big top.  Gruen tantalises the senses with her descriptions of circus life in 1920's America.  Her language is so evocative, that the pages wreak of peanuts and candyfloss.  You loose yourself amidst the blurring of colours and the cacophonous din of the wild menagerie.  The equally colourful characters, we are told at the back of the book, were often times based upon real people who lived the life of travelling circus entertainers.  Their hitherto forgotten stories were happened upon by Gruen during her research.  It is almost unthinkable that so much of this novel is non-fiction, yet who could ever consider that Rosie the elephant was a figment of someone's imagination; she is so vibrant and alive on the page. 

But what this book actually left me with has nothing to do with jugglers and circus performers and is not half as exotic as we might wish.  It made me consider how older people are treated by society.  The book begins and ends with Jacob Jankowski, an elderly man, (of 90 or 93 years old; he can't remember which), who has been left in an old folks' home by his children to simply fade away.  His treatment at the hands of busy, bossy, carers left me livid.  To see this once vibrant, vital, man being treated so, was tragic.  He is shown to be yet another victim of our disposable culture: along with throw away razors and milk-cartons, throw-away parents.  It was not as if Jacob was suffering some horrendous illness; he was just an old widower, still with his full faculties, but suffering from terminal old age.  In this, I find that Gruen's novel is somewhat reminiscent of Nicholas Sparks's The Notebook; it provokes the reader into reconsidering our understanding of the experiences of the older members of society.  She makes us ponder what the future might hold in store for us, and it does not look good!  

I haven't seen the movie of this book, so I cannot comment on it, but I do know that it is well worth reading, if only for the way it will make us pause and take notice of the senior people in our lives, for who knows what wonderful stories lie hidden beneath the surface, just waiting to be told.  

Ghost Light ~ by Joseph O'Connor

I've just finished reading 'Ghost Light', by Joseph O'Connor and my mind is still ringing with the sound of it, the music and words of Molly Allgood's voice, but let me not race ahead.  Let me do the thing properly.

In brief, the story bridges two worlds, the past and the present. It is partly set in Edwardian Dublin, in a time before the outbreak of World War One. It tells the tale of a teenage, working class, Catholic, Dublin girl, who was born above a rag and bone shop. She begins work as an actress in the Abbey theater and falls in love with an older, Protestant, Trinity-educated, wealthy playwright, John Millington Synge (He of 'Playboy of the Western World' fame.) They begin courting and become engaged. Despite family disapproval, both are steadfast in their attachment, regardless of the fact that John becomes ill. 

The plot hops from the present - London 1952 - to various moments  and places in the past, Dublin, London,  New York, Galway, Wicklow etc., all places of importance in Molly's story, for this is Molly's story.  

Although it is also a love story between herself and J.M. Synge, it is Molly who narrates the tale, but not in a normal way.  It is as if we ARE Molly, so closely are we immersed  in her character. It is as if we are her conscience, her soul, and she is talking to herself and us simultaneously.  Instead of using 'I', the first person narrative voice, he opts to use the second; 'You'.  It is surprisingly effective :

'You take a sour sip. Medicinal... you wear a dead man's boots. Well, no point if wastefulness.'  

And so it continues for most of the book.

It could be that there is a ghost that goes where Molly goes and sees everything that she sees - and if that is so, then that ghost might be the reader or indeed John Synge.   The 'ghost light' of the title is mentioned in the book as the tradition kept in theaters to leave one light burning at night, so that the ghosts can act on the stage and see each other.  It's a wonderfully evocative title, suggesting that the very book itself is a ghost light, allowing the ghost of Molly Allgood and J.M. Synge to relive on the stage of our imaginations.

The story itself is a great one, a love story at the very heart of it, with such haunting, memorable characters that I think they will be with me forever: nice Mr Duglacz, from the book-shop, whose love letter came too late; Mr Ballantine, the publican who heartbreakingly sneaks a bottle of milk into her carpet bag; Grannie, emerging from a pile of rags on the bed; John Synge, the rain dripping from his hair. Yet is is the character of Molly that is so wonderfully presented to us, that I do not wish to forget. Not unlike Joyce's Molly from Ulysses, this Molly bears her soul to us; her decency and her vulgarity, her innocence and her arrogance. We love her for her playfulness - she would flirt with the Pope himself, but there is an earnestness about her too that is bewitching. 
O'Connor has conjured up a woman, half real, half his own invention, that surely will become one of the great female characters of modern Irish fiction. Yet that is not all he has achieved. He has brought to life a world long gone, a Dublin of the past that seems vaguely like home to me.  That being so, it was a thrill and delight to step back in time between the pages of this book, to hear the vernacular and Dublin-isms that my grandparents might have known. Witness this conversation when J.M Synge comes to Molly's house for tea: 
' Grannie: Do you know what it is they need? The fine Irish people. 
A good kick in a place wouldn't blind them. 
Molly: Grannie, for the love of Jesus... 
Mother: And our Molly's a holy terror for the books, Misther Synge. 
She's that many o' them read, I don't know where to look. 
If she isn't a scholar, she met them on the road... a quare 
one for the books.' 

Note how this section reads like a play. Others are take the form of a letter, one of a headstone transcript. But mostly the book is written in a prose style that is anything but ordinary. Almost every sentence contains some evocative image, some witty insight that builds, layer upon layer, until the story unfolds, in the way a poet might deliver meaning. As an example:

' Your impulse was to hurry away.  You felt doors opening inside you, and you didn't want to go through any of them again'.

So this novel, surprisingly, possesses something of the feel of a poem, where meaning comes between the lines and lingers with you long after the story has been told. 

I recommend this book to everyone who loves a well-crafted, good story. The language alone will happily keep you up late into the night. I had it finished in 2 days because I simply fell in love with it and could not bear to put it down. I give this book my 'Blooming Brilliant' award and envy anyone who has not yet delved into its pages, and the promised delight that awaits you there. 

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