Reuben Sachs by Amy Levy
Published by Persephone, 2007
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
First published in 1888, this forgotten classic was revived by the wonderful Persephone Books. I really admire the ideas Levy was exploring, with the novel essentially serving as an indictment of the strict hold societal rules held over people’s lives, with particular regard to class, wealth, reputation, and religion.
While I can appreciate that it would be somewhat revolutionary in its day for a woman to write an outwardly critical view of life as a Jew in Victorian London, by today’s standards it all feels a bit pedestrian and lacking in drive, with little in the way of outright conflict or development beyond what the blurb sets out.
Still, Levy’s prose remains very readable, capturing the look and feel of the era in which she lived, and though the delivery underwhelmed, her themes of expectation, hypocrisy, and suppression remain relevant.
Mother/land by Ananda Lima
Published by Black Lawrence Press, 2021
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
An interesting dissection of language and identity within the context of life as an immigrant mother. The success of poetry depends almost entirely on whether you click with the poet’s style, and that’s a wholly subjective thing. So while I have no specific complaints about this collection, per se, it hasn’t become a new favourite either.
That said, there are a few gems to be found, and those who see their own experiences reflected in Lima’s will likely find it a considerably more powerful read.
Thank you to the publisher for a free advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.
Some of Poe’s most iconic short stories and poems (including The Tell-Tale Heart, The Pit and the Pendulum, and The Raven) are given new life by artist Gareth Hinds. When it comes to Poe, I tend to enjoy his creepy atmosphere, striking concepts, and strong visuals (all of which are emphasised here by Hinds’s artwork), but I find his prose and narrative arcs do little for me, often fizzling out after a lot of excellent promise.
Frankenstein is one of my favourite novels of all time, so it was fun to revisit it with the added bonus of some deliciously gothic artwork. The team that worked on this did a fantastic job. Though the text is slightly abridged to allow the art to supplement the story (a couple of my favourite lines got the chop, hence the docking of a star), the core prose, themes, and narrative that made Shelley’s work so iconic still feel largely intact.
When an ad boldly announces an upcoming murder in the local newspaper, nosy neighbours flock to the appointed location expecting a silly parlour game or an elaborate prank. Rather, the lights cut out, a gun is fired, and someone drops down dead. In typical Christie fashion, we quickly begin to unravel a complex, tangled web of secrets and lies in pursuit of the killer amongst them.
With biting hints of the rise in feminism that was to come, Penelope Mortimer’s The Pumpkin Eater chronicles the breakdown and attempted mental reconstruction of a woman left deeply unsatisfied by her role as wife and mother. There are whispers of scandal and rumour bubbling beneath the surface, and an oddly gripping quality to the somewhat scant narrative. That said, the book focusses on a perceptive look at society, and a sense of subtle power, over any salacious shock value. In that respect, it’s the kind of feminism that feels quietly revolutionary for its time, rather than anything particularly ground-breaking for the modern reader.
Consider me shook by how much of this book is actually about fishing. From the way people talk about it, I expected rich allegory, thematic depth, and philosophical musings. But no, the only time the old man ever stops talking about fishing is to talk about baseball, or to club a dolphin over the head. Not my jam.
Blake’s poetry is the kind of thing most people think of when they hear the word ‘poetry’. By this, I mean it’s full of archaic language, strict rhyming schemes, and a lot of religious imagery. As such, it’s also the kind of poetry that sadly puts a lot of people off. This kind of work has its place, of course, but it does little to spark excitement in me as a reader. There are some nice lines, especially those that draw on nature, but there’s just not enough variation in themes or ideas to make the collection feel fresh, engaging, or relevant to the modern reader.
This is the first of the Faber Stories range that sadly didn’t work for me. It wasn’t bad, per se, but a story about a father’s anguish as he awaits a potentially life-changing diagnosis for his young son should have made me feel emotional or tense. Instead, I have to concede that I felt a little bored by its tangential style.
This slim volume collects three short stories by McCullers, often described as a master of the Southern gothic. The prose throughout is sensitive and observant, yet highly readable, and though this was my first taste of her work, it certainly won’t be my last.
This collection brings together three little-known short stories by Mary Shelley, the revered author of Frankenstein. Each is a fantastic example of her writing prowess, and the ways in which she pioneered the science-fiction and horror genres.
It’s such a nice feeling to return to a favourite author after a while, and to instantly be reminded why you fell in love with their work in the first place. From the very first paragraph of this book, I was transported once again by du Maurier’s lush, descriptive prose. It captures such a wonderful sense of time, place, and atmosphere, and is just a delight to read.
Another thoroughly readable yet deceptively intricate yarn from the queen of mystery. This one captures the gossip fuelled nature of life in small, rural towns with characteristically wry humour and whip-sharp dialogue. I also enjoyed the brief though interesting commentary on society’s dismissiveness of older people’s worth, and the psychology of criminals (with characters questioning whether illicit behaviour is learned or inherited; free choice or an affliction of the mind).
One of Penguin’s Little Black Classics, this slim volume brings together three short stories by Katherine Mansfield, who is often considered a master of the form. The selected stories compliment each other well in both theme and tone. Each captures a character’s sense of loneliness and longing, and a quiet moment of realisation which sees their illusion of contentment shattered. There’s a couple who realise they have drifted apart; a woman who spends her Sundays people watching in the park; and a man who craves his wife’s exclusive attention.
Callum McLaughlin 