Five book reviews
Hurrah! I managed to get the reviews of the books I read in August written before it reached October! By a margin of under an hour, admittedly, but I'll take my achievements where I can find them...
Helen Castor - She Wolves: The Women Who Ruled England Before Elizabeth
This was a long-ago Christmas present from vampadvocate, which made it to the top of the pile when I decided I needed to read some more non-fiction for a change. It tells something of the history of four powerful women: Matilda (the daughter of Henry I and mother of Henry II), Eleanor of Aquitaine, Isabella of France and Margaret of Anjou. None of them ever reigned in their own right, but all held a good deal of power at one time or another, to the point where the book's title is not inaccurate.
Castor is a proper historian and is scrupulous about explaining her sources and not making things up to fill gaps in the record. She does a good job of explaining the social and legal background to the events in question, and the attitude to women at the time - although, speaking as a linguist, I wasn't always wholly convinced by the emphasis she places on the female form of words like 'domina' (as opposed to 'dominus') being used in documents written in Latin.
I liked the bits where the authorial voice crept in to give judgment on the actions of various players in the events, for example where Castor suggests 'a less transparent character than Stephen might perhaps have hesitated before allowing his disaffected brother to ride a hundred miles in the company of a cousin who was claiming his throne' or describes a group who changed sides during one argument over the succession as 'These mistreated unfortunates - a good story if they could make it stick-...'
As someone whose knowledge of the medieval era comes far more from fantasy novels than from history proper, I was surprised by the sheer number of early deaths by violence or disease, or the ease with which marriage alliances could apparently be made and broken; I'd assumed the likes of A Game of Thrones were grossly exaggerated for dramatic effect, but this would appear not to be the case.
Overall, the book has a pretty good balance of education and entertainment, and I will concur with the review quote on the back which describes it as 'A fascinating account of a group of women who refused to do as they were told'.
Rachel Hartman - Seraphina
This was the first book chosen by the revived loosbookclub, and I will confess that I wasn't especially looking forward to reading it, as the cover made it look pretty damn generic. Once I actually did, I was pleasantly surprised. It's a YA fantasy novel in which the closest thing to a USP is that it features dragons which can take on human form. It's set around forty years after the signing of a peace treaty between humans and dragons...which is looking especially fragile after the recent gruesome murder of the human Crown Prince by persons or dragons unknown.
I very much enjoyed the dragons, who find it hard to act like, or interact successfully with, humans because human behaviour is baffling and human emotions more so. I found myself wondering whether the parallels with Asperger Syndrome were intended or just inferred by me. Seraphina herself I found to have a touch of the Mary-Sue about her, what with her amazing musical talent, her dark secret which meant nobody really understood her, and her unusual maturity for a sixteen-year-old girl. The world, however, was convincingly drawn, people's (and dragons') motivations generally plausible, and the main plot decently paced - albeit that it required both Seraphina and the chief of guards to be temporarily really dense when one particular clue showed up during the murder investigation. I could have done without the romantic subplot, myself, but I guess that kind of thing is more or less compulsory in YA novels these days.
A sequel is apparently due sometime in 2014. I may very well take a look at it, not least because I'm curious to find out more about what I will, for spoiler-avoidance purposes, refer to as Seraphina's 'family', who didn't get anywhere near enough time on the page, largely due to the romantic subplot.
Alexander Garros and Aleksei Evdokimov [and unspecified translator(s)] - Headcrusher
I picked this up at the weird ‘books-for-free’ shop in Tufnell Park, because the front cover has an eye-catching design with a headless suited man and the tagline ‘Q. Money-driven aliens are invading your world. What can you do?’ Once I turned it over (‘A. Fight back’) it became clear that we weren’t looking at sci-fi but rather a dystopian thriller - ‘Russia’s Fight Club and American Psycho rolled into one’.
Once I started reading, I could certainly see why the American Psycho comparison was made. The protagonist, Vadim, works in a pointless, soulless PR/advertising-type job for a bank, and spends a lot of his time playing violent computer games and fantasising about doing violence to his annoying bosses. And then, one day, one of his bosses catches him doing something inappropriate at the office out of hours and it all kicks off…and spirals. I don’t know so much about the Fight Club comparison (possibly because I saw the film once but have never read the book). The other thing this reminded me of is Jeff Noon, especially his Vurt, both for the virtual world elements and for the sheer joy in the use of language. The writing is often really interesting, full of jargon and clearly invented portmanteau words. It must have been a real challenge to translate, but whoever did such a cracking job of it gets no credit anywhere - the only sign that this is a book in translation comes in small print in the copyright notices. I suppose it’s possible the authors translated it themselves…
Apparently, Headcrusher won the ‘Russian Literary National Bestseller Prize’ in 2003, and can I see why, as it manages to be unusually original for something with a fairly predictable thriller-type plot.
So, score one for random free books from the random free bookshop…
David Nicholls - One Day
I was in the unusual position (for me) upon reading this book of already knowing the most significant plot developments before I started, because I saw the film a few years ago while on a plane. As a general rule, I try to avoid watching films-of-books until such time as I’ve read the book, but this was one of those old-fashioned flights where the in-flight entertainment was a single-channel, take-it-or-leave it set-up. Luckily, this book is sufficiently well-written that this didn’t spoil the enjoyment.
One Day is about two people who meet just as they graduate, and go their separate ways. We then see them (sometimes separately, sometimes together) on the same date over a succession of years, as they grow (or don’t...) and change. I suppose the themes could be described as friendship and relationships, and the way life doesn’t always turn out the way you’d expect, whether in love or in work.
Emma is clever and idealistic and a bit neurotic, of a very familiar type (I spy a bit of me and a bit of alobear for a start, besides all sorts of fictional characters). Dexter is one of those attractive, laid-back people from a privileged background who are sometimes every bit as confident as they seem, and sometimes rather less so. His behaviour can be quite obnoxious, so Nicholls does well to make him a sympathetic character as well as one I could happily have shaken on occasion. They aren’t obvious friends, much less an obvious couple, and that’s one of the reasons why the story is interesting. Another reason the book works well is that it’s very well observed: the people and the places are all so clearly ‘real’ (which is not to say that Nicholls didn’t invent some or most of them, although he does say in the acknowledgements that he ‘pilfered’ various smart remarks and observations from friends and acquaintances over the years).
There’s a limit to what I can say about the plot itself without massive spoilers, so I’ll just say that it’s nice to see a romance where the course of ‘true love’ doesn’t run entirely smooth and where the ending isn’t quite your traditional happy-ever-after, although it’s not without hope. I’d be hard-pushed to say whether the laughs or the tears get the upper hand, but there is plenty of scope for both. I’m not entirely sure it merits the paeans plastered across two pages of the front, from various reviews or writers, but it’s certainly very readable.
Simone van der Vlugt (translated by Michele Hutchison) - The Reunion
A fairly standard psychological thriller, with a narrator who was once bullied at school and is now bullied at work, and who, during the course of the book, acquires a new boyfriend who swiftly shows all the signs anyone is ever going to need of being abusive and unbalanced. The mystery/thriller part relates to what happened to her former best friend (and former bully), who disappeared aged fifteen.
The main task for books of this type is to point the finger of suspicion at enough people that it’s not immediately obvious whodunit, while not cheating the reader by making it impossible even to suspect the real culprit. On that front, The Reunion succeeds, inasmuch as I identified five possibilities, and the end reveal was one of them.
The writing (assuming the translation from the Dutch is a fair reflection) isn’t anything special, but this was decent enough amusement for a day or so. It was passed to me by a member of loosbookclub, and will doubtless either continue cycling there or find its way to a charity shop.
Helen Castor - She Wolves: The Women Who Ruled England Before Elizabeth
This was a long-ago Christmas present from vampadvocate, which made it to the top of the pile when I decided I needed to read some more non-fiction for a change. It tells something of the history of four powerful women: Matilda (the daughter of Henry I and mother of Henry II), Eleanor of Aquitaine, Isabella of France and Margaret of Anjou. None of them ever reigned in their own right, but all held a good deal of power at one time or another, to the point where the book's title is not inaccurate.
Castor is a proper historian and is scrupulous about explaining her sources and not making things up to fill gaps in the record. She does a good job of explaining the social and legal background to the events in question, and the attitude to women at the time - although, speaking as a linguist, I wasn't always wholly convinced by the emphasis she places on the female form of words like 'domina' (as opposed to 'dominus') being used in documents written in Latin.
I liked the bits where the authorial voice crept in to give judgment on the actions of various players in the events, for example where Castor suggests 'a less transparent character than Stephen might perhaps have hesitated before allowing his disaffected brother to ride a hundred miles in the company of a cousin who was claiming his throne' or describes a group who changed sides during one argument over the succession as 'These mistreated unfortunates - a good story if they could make it stick-...'
As someone whose knowledge of the medieval era comes far more from fantasy novels than from history proper, I was surprised by the sheer number of early deaths by violence or disease, or the ease with which marriage alliances could apparently be made and broken; I'd assumed the likes of A Game of Thrones were grossly exaggerated for dramatic effect, but this would appear not to be the case.
Overall, the book has a pretty good balance of education and entertainment, and I will concur with the review quote on the back which describes it as 'A fascinating account of a group of women who refused to do as they were told'.
Rachel Hartman - Seraphina
This was the first book chosen by the revived loosbookclub, and I will confess that I wasn't especially looking forward to reading it, as the cover made it look pretty damn generic. Once I actually did, I was pleasantly surprised. It's a YA fantasy novel in which the closest thing to a USP is that it features dragons which can take on human form. It's set around forty years after the signing of a peace treaty between humans and dragons...which is looking especially fragile after the recent gruesome murder of the human Crown Prince by persons or dragons unknown.
I very much enjoyed the dragons, who find it hard to act like, or interact successfully with, humans because human behaviour is baffling and human emotions more so. I found myself wondering whether the parallels with Asperger Syndrome were intended or just inferred by me. Seraphina herself I found to have a touch of the Mary-Sue about her, what with her amazing musical talent, her dark secret which meant nobody really understood her, and her unusual maturity for a sixteen-year-old girl. The world, however, was convincingly drawn, people's (and dragons') motivations generally plausible, and the main plot decently paced - albeit that it required both Seraphina and the chief of guards to be temporarily really dense when one particular clue showed up during the murder investigation. I could have done without the romantic subplot, myself, but I guess that kind of thing is more or less compulsory in YA novels these days.
A sequel is apparently due sometime in 2014. I may very well take a look at it, not least because I'm curious to find out more about what I will, for spoiler-avoidance purposes, refer to as Seraphina's 'family', who didn't get anywhere near enough time on the page, largely due to the romantic subplot.
Alexander Garros and Aleksei Evdokimov [and unspecified translator(s)] - Headcrusher
I picked this up at the weird ‘books-for-free’ shop in Tufnell Park, because the front cover has an eye-catching design with a headless suited man and the tagline ‘Q. Money-driven aliens are invading your world. What can you do?’ Once I turned it over (‘A. Fight back’) it became clear that we weren’t looking at sci-fi but rather a dystopian thriller - ‘Russia’s Fight Club and American Psycho rolled into one’.
Once I started reading, I could certainly see why the American Psycho comparison was made. The protagonist, Vadim, works in a pointless, soulless PR/advertising-type job for a bank, and spends a lot of his time playing violent computer games and fantasising about doing violence to his annoying bosses. And then, one day, one of his bosses catches him doing something inappropriate at the office out of hours and it all kicks off…and spirals. I don’t know so much about the Fight Club comparison (possibly because I saw the film once but have never read the book). The other thing this reminded me of is Jeff Noon, especially his Vurt, both for the virtual world elements and for the sheer joy in the use of language. The writing is often really interesting, full of jargon and clearly invented portmanteau words. It must have been a real challenge to translate, but whoever did such a cracking job of it gets no credit anywhere - the only sign that this is a book in translation comes in small print in the copyright notices. I suppose it’s possible the authors translated it themselves…
Apparently, Headcrusher won the ‘Russian Literary National Bestseller Prize’ in 2003, and can I see why, as it manages to be unusually original for something with a fairly predictable thriller-type plot.
So, score one for random free books from the random free bookshop…
David Nicholls - One Day
I was in the unusual position (for me) upon reading this book of already knowing the most significant plot developments before I started, because I saw the film a few years ago while on a plane. As a general rule, I try to avoid watching films-of-books until such time as I’ve read the book, but this was one of those old-fashioned flights where the in-flight entertainment was a single-channel, take-it-or-leave it set-up. Luckily, this book is sufficiently well-written that this didn’t spoil the enjoyment.
One Day is about two people who meet just as they graduate, and go their separate ways. We then see them (sometimes separately, sometimes together) on the same date over a succession of years, as they grow (or don’t...) and change. I suppose the themes could be described as friendship and relationships, and the way life doesn’t always turn out the way you’d expect, whether in love or in work.
Emma is clever and idealistic and a bit neurotic, of a very familiar type (I spy a bit of me and a bit of alobear for a start, besides all sorts of fictional characters). Dexter is one of those attractive, laid-back people from a privileged background who are sometimes every bit as confident as they seem, and sometimes rather less so. His behaviour can be quite obnoxious, so Nicholls does well to make him a sympathetic character as well as one I could happily have shaken on occasion. They aren’t obvious friends, much less an obvious couple, and that’s one of the reasons why the story is interesting. Another reason the book works well is that it’s very well observed: the people and the places are all so clearly ‘real’ (which is not to say that Nicholls didn’t invent some or most of them, although he does say in the acknowledgements that he ‘pilfered’ various smart remarks and observations from friends and acquaintances over the years).
There’s a limit to what I can say about the plot itself without massive spoilers, so I’ll just say that it’s nice to see a romance where the course of ‘true love’ doesn’t run entirely smooth and where the ending isn’t quite your traditional happy-ever-after, although it’s not without hope. I’d be hard-pushed to say whether the laughs or the tears get the upper hand, but there is plenty of scope for both. I’m not entirely sure it merits the paeans plastered across two pages of the front, from various reviews or writers, but it’s certainly very readable.
Simone van der Vlugt (translated by Michele Hutchison) - The Reunion
A fairly standard psychological thriller, with a narrator who was once bullied at school and is now bullied at work, and who, during the course of the book, acquires a new boyfriend who swiftly shows all the signs anyone is ever going to need of being abusive and unbalanced. The mystery/thriller part relates to what happened to her former best friend (and former bully), who disappeared aged fifteen.
The main task for books of this type is to point the finger of suspicion at enough people that it’s not immediately obvious whodunit, while not cheating the reader by making it impossible even to suspect the real culprit. On that front, The Reunion succeeds, inasmuch as I identified five possibilities, and the end reveal was one of them.
The writing (assuming the translation from the Dutch is a fair reflection) isn’t anything special, but this was decent enough amusement for a day or so. It was passed to me by a member of loosbookclub, and will doubtless either continue cycling there or find its way to a charity shop.