Book to Film | Before I Go to Sleep

Before I Go to Sleep’s book cover (left) and film poster (right).

Before I Go to Sleep is the story of a woman who is suffering from amnesia following a traumatic attack, who wakes each day thinking she is decades younger than she really is. Every morning, she must piece together who she is, what has happened to her, and figure out who she can trust.

Thrillers, more than any other genre, live or die by the effectiveness of their endings, and in particular the preservation of the central ‘twists’. The best thing I can say about the screen adaptation of Before I Go to Sleep is that, despite having already read the book (though admittedly it was a while ago) and therefore knowing how the story would conclude, it held my interest and gave me the feelings of tension you would want and expect from such a film.

It was, plot-wise, a very faithful adaptation, in fact. The only real change was the switch from the heroine keeping a written diary to track her memories in the book to her keeping a video diary in the film, and visually this made a lot of sense, as since this forms such a central part of the story, we would have spent a lot of time watching her silently scribbling away.

The casting choices were good, I felt, with Kidman in particular putting in a solid performance as the confused and mentally frail Christine.

The film’s principal cast, from left to right: Nicole Kidman, Colin Firth, Mark Strong and Anne-Marie Duff.

***spoiler warning***

I also felt the choice to have Colin Firth portray the villain worked well to preserve the twist, since we all tend to associate him with playing the dashing hero, and that does, at first, appear to be the role he plays in this.

***end of spoiler***

Granted, neither the book nor the film are necessarily anything especially new or ground-breaking within the genre, but as far as thriller conversions from page to screen go, I think this one fared pretty well.

Five-Star Read Predictions

Some of the books I think could be five-star reads.

I wouldn’t read a book if I didn’t hope to enjoy it, but there’s no denying that certain books get me more excited than others, giving me that extra special feeling you can’t quite define that makes you think it may well become a new favourite read. Inspired by an idea from Mercedes that she’s since decided to turn into an ongoing series on her channel, I’ve decided to try and predict future five-star reads.

This is by no means a comprehensive list of books that I think I might love, but simply the ones already sitting on my shelves that sprang to mind right away. Once I’ve read them all, I plan to do a follow up post, seeing how successful my predictions have proven to be. I’ve linked each book mentioned to its Goodreads page, in case you want to find out more about them, as with each I’ve simply stated what it is about the book that makes me feel particularly excited and intrigued. Let’s get started!

The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden

This book is a hotbed of buzzwords I just can’t resist: It’s set in an isolated, snowy setting; it’s inspired by fairy tales; it supposedly features beautiful writing, and has a dark, whimsical vibe. Yes please! It doesn’t hurt that the cover is stunning as well.

What Belongs to You by Garth Greenwell

This book claims to be lyrical and intense, exploring themes of sexuality, obsession, loneliness and violence; all of which I’m fascinated by when handled well. It follows a man who becomes increasingly drawn to the young man he pays for sex, with a cat-and-mouse play for power emerging between the two (another theme I love), whilst he struggles to accept events from his past.

The Lonely Hearts Hotel by Heather O’Neill

This book seems to promise an immersive world, stunning prose, enigmatic characters and a magical atmosphere, with a historical setting and circus flair that are giving me major Church of Marvels vibes – and given that it was my favourite read of last year, that gets me very hyped for this.

Trumpet by Jackie Kay

Following the death of Joss Moody, a respected musician, it emerges that he was, in fact, biologically a woman. The story is told from various different perspectives, including Joss’ wife, who guarded his secret unquestioningly, and their adopted son, who had no idea his father was born a woman. Exploring the nature of love and loss, if the subject matter is handled with care and respect, I think this could be a stunning read.

Little Nothing by Marissa Silver

In this historically set book, a girl born with a physical deformity is shunned by her community. Featuring elements of magical realism and fairy tale vibes in her quest for redemption, it’s another that throws up a lot of my favourite buzzwords. Plus, I’ve heard good things from a couple of people whose opinion I trust.

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There we have it. I’m interested to see how well these predictions turn out. *fingers crossed*

What are some of your own five-star predictions?

Let’s Recommend | Character Studies

Let’s recommend some character studies.

A character study is a book that puts the focus firmly on the protagonist and their innermost workings, giving them precedence over pulse-pounding action. It’s a fascinating way to examine different aspects of human nature, and one of my favourite ‘genres’, if you could call it that. Here are a few recommendations that have particularly stayed with or intrigued me.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a quietly sinister story of madness, sisterhood, isolation and a fear of ‘otherness’, with one of the most delightfully odd and disturbed narrators I’ve encountered for a long time. We follow two sisters and their uncle, the only survivors of a mysterious poisoning incident that left the rest of their family dead. Shutting themselves away from the wider world, the reciprocal fear they and outsiders feel for each other simmers and builds towards an unexpected climax. Jackson herself was suffering from agoraphobia at the time of its writing, and the way she explores this notion through her characters adds a whole other dynamic to the story.

The Dumb House by John Burnside

The main character in The Dumb House is surely one of the most sinister and twisted individuals you will encounter in fiction; a man who takes drastic steps to satisfy his need to understand the nature of language and the presence of the human soul. Burnside chooses to open the book in the aftermath of the climax and then revert to the beginning, meaning we always know the depths he will ultimately sink to, and instead are taken along with fascinated horror as we see how he ends up reaching that point. To me, it was a warning about the danger of the human desire to understand everything about the world when there are in fact many things beyond our comprehension.

Burial Rites by Hannah Kent

Set in the early 1800s, Burial Rites is a fictionalised account of the last execution to take place in Iceland. Agnes, our heroine, is sent to live with a family in an isolated farm house as she awaits her death, having been accused of the murder of her former master. As well as exploring the way the members of the family forced to keep an eye on her react to her presence, the book asks us to consider Agnes’s potential guilt and what may drive a young woman to kill someone. It’s worth note that as well as Agnes herself, the severity and drama of the Icelandic landscape mean it becomes a crucial character of the book in its own right.

Little Deaths by Emma Flint

Little Deaths would probably be better described as a character assassination rather than a character study, as we watch the police and media orchestrate the demonization of Ruth, a woman suspected of killing her own two children, by manipulating the way the world perceives her due to a dislike of the way she lived her life, cleverly mirroring the fact that she has lost control of her own fate. Plot-wise, things lost me a little towards the end by trying to have the shocking ‘reveal’ moment of a thriller, when in reality its strength was always its exploration of Ruth and the slut-shaming mentality and patriarchal influence that lead to the incarceration we know awaits her from the off-set; but it was still an engrossing read.

The Collector by John Fowles

The Collector is unique amongst these suggestions in that it’s an equal study of two characters; Frederik, a butterfly collector who decides to ‘collect’ the object of his romantic obsessions, and Miranda, the art student who becomes Frederik’s captive. We first follow Frederik’s perspective as he abducts Miranda, believing that she will fall for him if only he can keep her for long enough, before we see the same events retold from Miranda’s perspective via the diary she keeps during her ordeal. A fascinatingly warped play for power ensues between the two, with their narrative voices and unique motivations well defined and realised.

The Driver’s Seat by Muriel Spark

The Driver’s Seat is a short and absorbing tale that chronicles the bizarre downfall of a woman hellbent on self-destruction. Spark, like Burnside and Flint, reveals the fate of her flawed protagonist in the opening chapters of the book, meaning it’s the reader’s task to try and understand the ‘why’ rather than the ‘what’ of her actions. This notion also cleverly ties in with the title, as we consider the extent to which she still has control over her own life by the end of the book, and to what extent she’s spiralled beyond any sense of reason or restraint. It’s a book to make you think, with Spark not indulging us with all the answers, leaving us to experience the whirlwind of Lise’s life and consider the depth of her arguable madness.

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As always, I encourage you to share your own recommendations in return. So, what are some of your favourite character studies? Let’s chat about them.

July Wrap Up

All the books I read in July

It’s hard to believe we’ve past the half-way point of the year already, and yet somehow, it’s time for the 7^th monthly wrap up of 2017. Throughout July I managed to finish a total of 10 books (5 novels, a novella, a non-fiction book, a poetry chapbook, a graphic novel and a Little Black Classic), taking my total for the year so far up to 73.

The standout read for me was Jo Cox: More in Common, written by her husband, Brendan Cox. For those unfamiliar with her story, Jo was a member of the UK parliament and an international aid campaigner who was murdered by a white supremacist because of her political views on inclusion and equality. Brendan managed to paint the most heartfelt, honest and humane portrait of a remarkable woman, who fought for what she believed in with dignity and positivity as an MP, whilst also being a vibrant, funny and loving mother, wife, sister, friend and daughter. I really appreciated that he didn’t portray her as a victim or some saintly figure now that she’s gone, but as a very real, very good person, whose ethos was summed up in her own maiden speech to parliament, during which she famously said: “We are far more united, and have far more in common, than that which divides us.”

Another favourite was The Naming of Cancer by Tracey S. Rosenberg, a short collection of accessible yet powerful poems about the experience of cancer from various different perspectives, be it the person living with the condition, the spouse watching as their lover suffers, the colleague not sure what to say to their bereaved workmate, or the cancer cells themselves as they lament the death of their host. It was a very well executed concept.

I also thoroughly enjoyed The Driver’s Seat by Muriel Spark, which chronicles an unstable woman’s journey towards self-destruction; The Man in the Brown Suit by Agatha Christie, a fun tale of missing diamonds, murder, mistaken identities and a determined young woman in her quest for the truth; and Our Souls at Night by Kent Haruf, a tender little story about two lonely old people seeking comfort from one another and re-discovering their will to live.

The Little Black Classic was The Sea Raiders, a collection of three short stories by H.G. Wells, an author whose work I’m finding myself increasingly impressed by. The graphic novel, Lost & Found by Shaun Tan, was actually a collection of three short graphic works, that each tackle serious issues with a whimsical flair, courtesy of Tan’s gorgeous, expressive artwork. I also enjoyed reading Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi, having grown up with the Disney version but without having ever read the original text. It was, as you may expect, somewhat darker that the animated film we all know and love, and I liked that each chapter was like its own little fable, in which Pinocchio learned the importance of another attribute needed to be a ‘good’ and ‘real’ boy. I Let You Go by Clare Mackintosh was the thriller-of-the-moment a while ago, and whilst it wasn’t anything ground breaking, I did appreciate the bigger focus on character development than many books of its kind, and it kept me occupied on my flights to and from Barcelona.

Lastly, I read The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood, the modern classic about a population crisis in the future that leads to dramatic societal shifts, in which the few remaining fertile women must bear children for the couples who can no longer conceive naturally. Conceptually and thematically, there was a lot about this book that I appreciated and respected, but unfortunately it didn’t wow me the way I hoped it would, and I found several elements jarring. I went into a lot of detail about my thoughts in my review on Goodreads, so by all means check that out if you’d like to know why I struggled to fully connect with it.

All-in-all, it was a very enjoyable reading month and I can’t wait to see what books August will bring my way.

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What was your favourite read in July?

Women in Fiction | Saga Norén

Saga Norén

Saga Norén is the protagonist of the Swedish/Danish TV show, The Bridge, in which she is brilliantly portrayed by Sofia Helin. A gifted police detective who is utterly devoted to her work, Saga approaches everything with cool logic and will stop at nothing to get the job done. The character is generally believed to have Asperger’s Syndrome, though it has never been officially stated outright within the show itself, with the writers saying they don’t want the character’s development or actions to feel hindered by labels, but also because the character would never willingly submit herself to hospital or medical tests to be formally diagnosed, which is addressed in the show for reasons I won’t spoil.

Because of her condition, Saga has little to no understanding of any social norms, with a complete lack of any filter when it comes to interacting with other people, landing her in many funny but equally awkward situations thanks to her blunt, no-nonsense manner. Beautifully realised however, Saga never becomes a stereotype, constantly fascinated by human nature and seeking to ‘improve’ herself, with viewers also getting to see more of Saga’s emotional side and delving into her past and the difficult relationships she has with her family as the show progresses, as she makes huge personal sacrifices in the pursuit of justice.

Spotlight | Kirsty Logan

Kirsty Logan and the four works she has published thus far.

Today I’m shining the bookish spotlight on one of my favourite authors, Kirsty Logan. Hailing from Scotland, much of her work has the lifeblood of Celtic folklore and fairy tales running through it, with enchanting characters, absorbing plots and worlds, lyrical prose, and a whimsical tone that is right up my street.

To date, she has released a novel, The Gracekeepers; two short story collections, The Rental Heart and other Fairy Tales, and A Portable Shelter; and a flash fiction chapbook, The Psychology of Animals Swallowed Alive.

One of my favourites amongst these is The Gracekeepers, the story of a largely flooded world in which society is split into those who live on the small pockets of remaining land, and those who live aboard ships on the open water. We follow dual perspectives of a young woman with a dangerous secret who lives aboard a travelling circus boat, performing with her beloved bear, and an eponymous Gracekeeper; a person who is tasked with performing burials at sea. The story’s eclectic cast of lovable characters and striking imagery stole my heart. Here is an excerpt from one of my favourite passages:

“When people are cruel it’s often said that they have no heart, only a cold space or lump of ice in their chest. This was never true of Avalon. She had no heart, everyone knew, but there was nothing cold about her. In her chest burned an enormous coal, white-hot, brighter than the North Star. North knew the truth about Avalon: she was made of fire, and she would burn them all.”

My other favourite is A Portable Shelter, a series of interconnected short stories that read like fairy tales, with an ongoing narrative in between which sees two women awaiting the birth of their first child, taking turns to tell their unborn baby stories which mask truths about the world, having both vowed to never tell the child a lie. It’s a beautifully executed book all about the power and importance of storytelling.

I eagerly await whatever Logan shares with us next, and urge any of you at all interested in her work to give it a go.

Beautiful Barcelona

I’m back from my trip to Barcelona, a holiday with one of my best friends that was full of beautiful sights and a lot of sunshine. Here are a few highlights from our time away.

A view across the city from Park Güell, a major work by the much beloved Gaudí.

Some more examples of the famous mosaic design style present throughout Park Güell.

Striking architecture found in the Park.

Some of the area’s more natural sights.

Some exterior shots of the iconic La Sagrada Familia, Gaudí’s true passion project that’s so vast it remains under construction to this day, despite being one of the city’s most popular attractions.

A glimpse at La Sagrada Familia’s beautiful interior.

More of the city’s renowned architecture, found in and around the Gothic Quarter, including Barcelona Cathedral, pictured in the middle.

The very charming Parc de la Ciutadella.

A few random finds I particularly liked: the Arc de Triomf; a fountain that was just outside our hotel in the heart of the city; and a statue of a mammoth, because why the heck not?

The Temple Expiatori del Sagrat Cor, which sits on top of Tibidabo Mountain right by a retro-style amusement park.

A few shots of the church’s interior.

A couple of different perspectives from high above the city; one taken from Park Güell and one from the top of Sagrat Cor.

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Have you ever been to Barcelona? What were your favourite sights?