June Wrap Up

The books I read in June

Another month, another wrap up. Throughout June I read 10 books (bringing my total for the year so far up to 62). Here are some thoughts on each of them, in the order I read them.

Whistle in the Dark by Emma Healey

[ ⭐ ⭐ ] One of my most anticipated releases of the year, this novel had a fantastic concept and was indeed very readable, with a decent amount of intrigue to keep the pages turning. I found, however, that the book lost its way by trying to be too many things at once. What could have been a great character study about the bond between mothers and daughters, and recovery from trauma, was hampered by a mediocre mystery with very little plot progression, out of place flirtation with the supernatural, and a very underwhelming outcome.

Partners in Crime by Agatha Christie

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] I love Tommy and Tuppence. The dynamic between them is fantastic, and their snappy dialogue is some of the best around. I adored the whole structure and concept of this book. It’s technically a series of short stories, with each one focussing on its own case, as the sleuths seek to build a reputation for their new agency and hone their skills. The stories are, however, joined very nicely by a couple of threads that run throughout. Some are sinister, some are downright fun, but all are as clever and well thought-out as you’d expect from the Queen of Mystery. It’s also playfully meta, with the sleuths being big fans of crime fiction, and drawing on the styles of famous detectives for inspiration (including Poirot himself!).

Postal Volume 3 by Bryan Hill

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] It had been a while since I read volumes 1 & 2 of this graphic novel series, but I got drawn back into the dark and twisted world of Eden right away. I’m still loving how interesting and well developed the characters are, and the general direction the series is going.

The Surface Breaks by Louise O’Neill

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] In this reimagining of The Little Mermaid, O’Neill sticks very closely to the original Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, but reframes it with a feminist slant. It highlights the toxicity of patriarchy; the importance of being heard within society; the danger of trying to change yourself to appease others; and the frivolity of a culture that is obsessed with physical beauty. There’s enough that is familiar for it to feel nostalgic, and yet enough that is new to bring a whole new dimension to a tale we’ve all grown up with. The simplicity of the prose reflects the timeless quality of fairy tales, with real-world references and a breathless conclusion both very well-pitched.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] I studied a few Shakespeare plays back in the day, but this is the first time I’ve picked one up purely for pleasure – and I loved it! The richness of the language and playfulness of the rhythm are, of course, wonderful. The story is lots of fun too, and though the final act didn’t engage me quite as much, I could tell the humour of the scene would translate much better on stage. I’m excited to explore more Shakespeare now!

The Water Cure by Sophie Mackintosh

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] The concept of this book is fantastic: Three sisters have been raised in isolation by their parents, taught to fear men and a toxicity that plagues the outside world, exposure to which would mean certain death. It has a wonderfully unsettling and ethereal atmosphere throughout, and I admired that Mackintosh held back from handing us all the answers, reflecting the limited scope of knowledge afforded to the sisters, and establishing a tense, claustrophobic feeling, full of doubt and mystery. The water motif running throughout the imagery is well implemented, and I loved its exploration of family, loyalty, manipulation, and sisterhood; being, to me, a battle cry for women to resist the status quo.

The Skeleton’s Holiday by Leonora Carrington

[ ⭐ ⭐ ] I’m a big fan of Carrington’s surrealist artwork, but it seems surrealist writing simply doesn’t work quite as well for me. The first story, White Rabbits, was brilliantly creepy, and The Debutante very striking in its sinister absurdity, but the other 5 stories did nothing for me, sadly, and I don’t think they’ll stay with me.

The History of Bees by Maja Lunde

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] This is an incredibly ambitious novel that manages to be an intimate tale of family, whilst also looking outwards to comment on the future of humanity at large, by weaving together three different narratives set in different times and locations. This means it is at once historical fiction, contemporary, and a futuristic dystopian; and yet somehow, Lunde deftly brings everything together into one coherent narrative that comments on our vital bond with nature. She draws parallels between humans and bees in particular, with each of the three protagonists invested heavily in the processes of beekeeping and pollination. In doing so, she reminds us that, as with the best hives, we must work for the collective good if we are to survive.

The Victorian Chaise-Longue by Marghanita Laski

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] This was a brilliantly ambiguous and claustrophobic little read. For me, it threw up fascinating ideas about the fine line between ecstasy and ruin, the toxicity of being supressed, and the frivolousness of time; how in one era, a woman’s actions could be her making, but in another, they could spell her very ruin. With subtlety, Laski also shrewdly questions just how much progress women had made in gaining autonomy over their bodies, minds and actions by the time of the book’s writing in the 1950s, despite comparative improvements over the past; a theme still relevant to this day.

My Girls: A Lifetime with Carrie and Debbie by Todd Fisher

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] This is the memoir of Todd Fisher; brother of Carrie Fisher, and son of Debbie Reynolds. He recounts his family’s stranger-than-fiction life in a personable, anecdotal manner that is very endearing. It’s full of fun and warmth, though doesn’t shy away from the darkness that visited their lives, also touching on Carrie’s struggles with bipolar and addiction; Debbie’s ailing health, and repeated betrayals at the hands of men; and his own heartache and grief, culminating, tragically, in the deaths of both his ‘girls’ just a day apart in 2016. It offers a real, bittersweet insight into a uniquely bizarre Hollywood upbringing, and shares, with fervour and honesty, the love he had for his sister and mother.

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It was a very good reading month overall, with quite the run of four star reads, which isn’t really something to complain about!

What was your favourite read in June?

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Book to Film | Rosemary’s Baby

Rosemary’s Baby; the book cover (left) and film poster (right).

Sometimes it can feel like a book and its film adaptation are singing from different hymn sheets (which isn’t always necessarily a bad thing), but with Rosemary’s Baby, writer-director Roman Polanski clearly respected and shared Ira Levin’s original vision. Indeed, it is perhaps one of the most faithful page to screen conversions I’ve yet seen, in terms of both plot and tone.

As with the novel, I found Rosemary entirely endearing as a heroine, and loved her narrative arc; descending from a charming everywoman of the 60s to a determined mother, desperate to save her child – and her own sanity. She carries the entire thing, made possible by Mia Farrow’s strong performance and enigmatic screen presence, which mean we are with her every step of the way. Amidst the rest of the cast, Ruth Gordon also stood out as a highlight, putting in a great turn as the unnervingly eccentric Minnie Castevet.

The film’s principal cast, left to right: Mia Farrow, John Cassavetes, Ruth Gordon & Sidney Blackmer

I was thrilled they kept the horror very much on the psychological side of things, never resorting to jump scares or cheap gore, and focussing instead on a feeling of claustrophobia closing in on Rosemary. It’s testament to how well tension can be built, and how quietly affecting a story can be, when the focus is put firmly on the mental wellbeing of our protagonist; when the true horror is left to the power of our imagination.

It’s understandable why the film has become a classic of its genre, and why it pleases both committed cinemagoers and avid fans of the book alike.

The Book Courtship Tag

I saw this tag a little while ago on Jenna @ Bookmark Your thoughts’ blog. I thought it looked like fun, so couldn’t resist getting involved. Let’s just jump right in.

Isn’t it pretty?

PHASE ONE: INITIAL ATTRACTION – A BOOK YOU BOUGHT BECAUSE OF THE COVER

Vixen by Rosie Garland has one of my favourite covers of all time. In fairness, I thought the blurb sounded very intriguing as well, but it was undoubtedly the cover that first grabbed me.

PHASE TWO: FIRST IMPRESSIONS – A BOOK YOU GOT BECAUSE OF ITS SUMMARY

There’s always a slightly dubious feeling when someone already famous turns their hand to novel writing, but the moment I saw mention of historical fiction inspired by true events, Icelandic mythology, and the power of storytelling in the blurb for The Sealwoman’s Gift by Sally Magnusson, I knew I had to check it out. I’m excited to give it a go!

PHASE THREE: SWEET TALK – A BOOK WITH GREAT WRITING

When I think about Burial Rites by Hannah Kent, it’s the beauty of the prose and the wonderful atmosphere it creates that always come to mind first. Funnily enough, it’s also historical fiction set in Iceland and inspired by true events. I actually read it whilst on holiday in Iceland during a bitingly cold, snowy winter, so that certainly helped to enhance the reading experience as well!

PHASE FOUR: FIRST DATE – THE FIRST BOOK OF A SERIES THAT MADE YOU WANT TO PICK UP THE REST OF THE SERIES

I recently read Binti by Nnedi Okorafor. It’s a sci-fi novella that explores themes of cultural identity and racial prejudice. I enjoyed what it had to say a lot, and though things wrapped up a little neatly, there are two other books in the series, so I’m excited to see if we’ll get to dive a little deeper.

PHASE FIVE: LATE NIGHT PHONE CALLS – A BOOK THAT KEPT YOU UP ALL NIGHT

Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House was so absorbingly atmospheric that I simply didn’t want to put it down. Plus, there are some deliciously creepy moments that may keep you awake for other reasons.

PHASE SIX: ALWAYS ON MY MIND – A BOOK YOU COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT

I don’t think a book has ever haunted my thoughts as much as Bird Box by Josh Malerman. I read it about two-and-a-half years ago, and I still think about how intense and unsettling it was on a regular basis.

PHASE SEVEN: GETTING PHYSICAL – A BOOK THAT YOU LOVE THE WAY IT FEELS

I don’t have many of them as yet, but The Penguin Clothbound Classics are very tactile. They’re sturdy naked hardbacks with a rough, textured feel.

Some examples of the Clothbound Classics.

PHASE EIGHT: MEETING THE PARENTS – A BOOK YOU WOULD RECOMMEND TO YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS

Most of my family and friends aren’t big readers, so I would probably recommend something accessible and universally relatable regardless of your level of interest in reading – but something that is also timely, with an emotional pull to it. So, perhaps something like My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece by Annabel Pitcher, or A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness.

PHASE NINE: THINKING ABOUT THE FUTURE – A BOOK OR SERIES YOU KNOW YOU WILL RE-READ MANY TIMES IN THE FUTURE

[ insert generic Harry Potter answer ]

PHASE TEN: SHARE THE LOVE – WHO DO YOU TAG?

I wasn’t tagged, so I’ll leave it open to anyone who wants to get involved. I’d love to see your answers though, so pingback here if you do it so I can check out your post.

Book to Film | Ordeal by Innocence

Ordeal by Innocence’s book cover (left) and film poster (right)

Okay, this adaptation isn’t technically a film, it’s a three-part BBC mini-series. BUT, it has pretty lavish production values, and I binge watched it, which gave it the feel of a film. So, I’m going to bend the rules slightly so I can talk about it here.

I was instantly drawn in by the stylish design and direction, which were very successful in capturing the moody tone of intrigue, and the idea of something sinister lurking beneath the surface, that pervade much of Christie’s work.

The ensemble cast; led by Bill Nighy, Anna Chancellor, Luke Treadaway, Morven Christie & Eleanor Tomlinson.

I thought it was well acted by all, and the implementation of flashbacks did well to deliberately confuse. It reflected the complexity of the family dynamic, and the disorientating feeling of not knowing who you can trust. As such, it confuses in a way that gets its hooks into you, making you all the more determined to see how everything plays out, and how the pieces of the puzzle fit together. This makes the final reveals all the more satisfying.

Speaking of reveals, however, it’s certainly not an entirely faithful adaptation, and Christie purists may be disgruntled to learn that the identity of whodunnit has been changed. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about this decision. In some respects, it seems odd, as whodunnit is kind of the whole point of stories in this genre. But in other ways, I felt some changes to the narrative, particularly the climax and conclusion, worked better in a visual context, and it did make me admire the production team for their boldness. They did, indeed, play off reader expectations in clever ways throughout, striking an interesting balance between familiarity and surprises; just when you think you know where something is going, they catch you off guard. It can be argued that it’s a valid way of putting a fresh spin on a classic story, whilst still honouring the source material’s concept and tone.

All-in-all, I think it’s well worth checking out if you’re a Christie fan; albeit with the prior knowledge that things won’t necessarily play out as you’d expect. Think of it like an homage, more than an adaptation, and you may well get drawn in.

May Wrap Up

The books I read in May

As May comes to a close, here are some thoughts on the books I read throughout this past month. There are 11 of them, which took my total for the year so far up to 52.

The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] Adventure, espionage, political intrigue, twists galore, and great characters; this book was a pacy and hugely enjoyable read that completely swept me up. Enigmatic and instantly likable, lead heroine, Tuppence, is one of my favourite Christie characters thus far, being intelligent, resourceful, snarky and brave. It’s lighter in tone and has a more adventurous slant than, say, the whodunnits of Poirot fame, but it still has its fair share of dark and intriguing plot points, and the trademark web of deceit and mystery that Christie fans will no doubt adore.

I am, I am, I am by Maggie O’Farrell

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] It was a treat to discover the wonderful imagery and great sense of flow that predominate O’Farrell’s writing style. Her evocative turn of phrase does incredibly well to heighten the visceral nature of the anecdotes she shares in this unique memoir, in which O’Farrell frames her life through her various experiences with death. This fantastic concept, ironically, also led to the somewhat lacking impact of the book for me, however. Some of the stories shared are haunting and emotionally charged; with others it’s a real stretch to consider them near death experiences. Personally, I would have favoured the omission of these ‘weaker’ anecdotes in favour of exploring the lasting impact of the others in greater depth.

The Power by Naomi Alderman

[ ⭐ ⭐ ] I wanted to love this but was sadly left feeling disappointed. I think the concept is great, and I love social commentary exploring feminist themes, but the word that kept coming to mind throughout the whole thing was ‘bland’. The parts of the narrative that felt in any way nuanced were glossed over, whilst other parts felt needlessly forced and heavy-handed. It was predictable and offered little in the way of a fresh perspective on gender discussion. I also found its appropriation of cultural norms and like-for-like gender reversals for too simplistic. Perhaps it was hurt by the hype, but I just couldn’t’ get emotionally invested in this one at all, unfortunately.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by J.K. Rowling

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] I put off reading this for years, because the main Harry Potter series is such an integral part of my childhood that I wanted to leave it alone. When this gorgeous illustrated edition came out, however, I knew I’d relent. Olivia Lomenech Gill’s artwork is brilliantly expressive and enchanting, really enhancing the immersive quality of this fun and imaginative jaunt through the Wizarding World.

The Gloaming by Kirsty Logan

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] I was instantly swept up by The Gloaming’s tone of melancholy and quiet magic. It explores notions of family, sisterhood, loyalty, grief, and love, whilst also ruminating on the ideas of beauty, bodily difference, sexuality, and self-acceptance. Above all else, however, this is a beautiful tale about the power and vital importance of stories; from the way we lose ourselves in books, to the lies we tell to protect ourselves from pain. The use of setting and structure are great, and Logan’s prose is wonderful; suitably ornate and enchanting but in an understated way that avoids the trap of indulging in too much whimsy. The lifeblood of fairy tales and hints of magical realism work to haunting effect here, with fantastic imagery that enhances the story rather than distracting from or undermining it.

The Vigilante by John Steinbeck

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] The three stories in this little collection explore the themes of violence, racism, and female suppression. All are very readable and subtly handled, and though I thoroughly enjoyed the unsettling atmosphere that Steinbeck created, I felt they all fizzled out somewhat, and would have preferred punchier endings that hit home his point with greater power and emotion.

My Name is Leon by Kit de Waal

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] Set against the backdrop of racial prejudice and class tensions in 80s Britain, My Name is Leon is a story about getting lost in the care system, and the finding of family. Clearly written from an informed and compassionate perspective, it has a subtle power, and is at equal turns charming, poignant and bittersweet. My niggles included a climax that felt misjudged tonally, and a lack of exploration of Leon’s school experience, despite school being the nucleus of a child’s life in those formative years. However, I appreciated that de Waal avoided the obvious though unrealistic ‘happily ever after’ ending that many authors would have opted for, and found it an enjoyable and very readable novel overall, with a protagonist that many will take to heart.

An Illustrated Treasury of Scottish Folk and Fairy Tales by Theresa Breslin

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] Exactly what it says on the tin. This was a suitably charming and nostalgic read.

Tin Man by Sarah Winman

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] A sense of quiet beauty and supressed melancholy hover over this moving tale of friendship, first love, lost time, and reflection on what could have been. The characters are engaging and nuanced, with the dynamic between the three main players being wonderfully bittersweet. It may not offer much that is new to the narrative of gay fiction set in the 60s-90s, but it is written with so much grace and heart, avoiding sensationalism, that it is more than worth the read.

Binti by Nnedi Okorafor

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] This is a book that I enjoyed well enough in terms of plot, but loved in themes, ideas and social commentary. As with the best sci-fi, it has elements of adventure, and can be read as a bit of an intergalactic romp, but it manages to say a lot about our own world at the same time. It is essentially a look at cultural identity, and the difficulties of integrating and growing as a person without letting go of your roots; as well as the power of empathy and communication to unite seemingly disparate races. Things wrapped up a little neatly, but there’s scope for the rest of the series to delve deeper.

When I Hit You by Meena Kandasamy

[ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ] Told from the viewpoint of a domestic abuse survivor, this book is an unflinching answer to the cruel though inevitable question: Why didn’t she leave him sooner? It explores with harrowing realism the ways that abusers, and a society that shames victims, trap those who would otherwise be able to seek freedom sooner. Along the way, it also debunks nigh on every stereotype of a ‘battered wife’ in Indian culture. Politically charged and beautifully written, this book should be placed in the hands of anyone who dares to suggest that walking away is ever easy.

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Here’s to another month of great reading for us all in June.

My favourite reads this month were The Gloaming and When I Hit You – What were yours?

Let’s Recommend | Dystopian Fiction

Let’s recommend some dystopian fiction.

This time round, I’m going to recommend a few of my favourite dystopian stories. As always with this series, I invite you all to exchange your own recommendations in return.

The Trees by Ali Shaw

Undeniably strange in places, this book is one for those who want to be swept up in a tale that is dark and unsettlingly magical in tone. The story opens when the ground erupts with endless numbers of trees, tearing apart the landscape, displacing people, and ending their way of life as they knew it. We follow a group of four characters as they attempt to understand their new world, and to navigate the now hostile environment, encountering dangers from the people, animals and strange new creatures that now call the forests home. The characters are all complex and flawed; the prose lush and vivid; and the genre-defying story a tapestry of adventure, fantasy, and mythology, whilst also being something of a fable for the modern world.

The Girl With All the Gifts by M.R. Carey

I won’t say much about the plot of this one, to preserve the experience of seeing the truth unfold, but I will say that this book manages to bring a fresh take to a much-explored sub-genre of dystopian fiction. It’s a thrilling read, and yet it poses big questions about what it truly means to be human, and what we are capable of in terms of both compassion and cruelty. It’s brutal at times, and yet always full of heart, with the story itself carried by a fantastically well-realised young heroine.

Bird Box by Josh Malerman

This is one of the most intense, claustrophobic, horrifying and captivating books I’ve ever read. It’s a masterclass in the fear of the unknown, and a fantastic example of the ways an author can toy with our senses to elicit an emotional response. Plot-wise, there is something outside. No one knows what it is or where it came from, but a single glimpse is enough to drive you to insanity and deadly violence. The pacing, plot, characters, and atmosphere are all brilliantly handled, combining to create a haunting tale that has stayed with me so strongly.

The Beauty by Aliya Whiteley

In this ethereal, hypnotic read, women have been wiped out by a fungal infection. Men await inevitable death, exchanging stories of the women they have lost, until a bizarre new species begins to grow from the bodies of the deceased. It is both beautiful and disturbing in equal measure; at once a dark and quietly terrifying dystopian, and a fascinating exploration of gender roles and the importance of storytelling. Through gorgeous prose and a fever dream of events, Whiteley ultimately asks us to question the importance we place on physical beauty in women, and the extent to which man is predisposed to revert to violence.

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What are some of your favourite dystopian novels?

My Favourite Scottish Slang

A bit of a different post today! I recently read (and loved) The Gloaming by Kirsty Logan, in which each chapter is named after a Scots word. Whilst I don’t have a particularly strong accent or think of myself as especially Scottish in the stereotypical sense, it did make me realise just how many traditional Scottish words and phrases are interwoven into my every day dialect. As a lover of stories and language, I thought it would be fun to share a few of my favourites, some of which I use regularly myself, others I just enjoy hearing.

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It’s a sair fecht – A direct translation would be ‘it’s a sore fight’, but it’s used in the context of ‘it’s a hard life’; usually said with a sigh at the end of a long day. I picked this one up from my Grandad.

Dreich – Used to describe a dull, horrible day. We have ample opportunity to use this one in Scotland.

Haud yer wheesht – This essentially means ‘shut up’, usually said with exasperation when someone keeps rambling on.

Sleekit – A great way to describe someone who is dishonest or sly.

Dwam – A dwam is a daydream. My mum often tells us that a teacher once described her as being ‘in a permanent dwam’.

Glaikit – I love this word. If someone is glaikit, they’re slow or, frankly, stupid.

Numpty – A numpty is an idiot. What can I say, we’re a very sarcastic bunch.

Peely-wally – This means pale and is used to describe someone who looks washed out or ill.

Messages – To this day, I haven’t found anyone who can explain to me why we call groceries ‘messages’, and yet, we do.

Haver – This is both a noun and a verb. If you’re a haver, you never shut up, and may thus also be described as ‘havering a load of nonsense’.

Fouter – Again, this is both a noun and a verb. If something is a fouter, it’s an annoying, fiddly task. If you’re foutering, you’re making a needless fuss over something and over-complicating it.

Swither – If you’re swithering, you can’t make up your mind.

Shoogle – If you shoogle something, you give it a good shake.

Clype – A clype is someone, generally an annoying child, who tells tales to get other people in trouble.

Coorie – Coorie means to get cosy, as in to coorie under a blanket.

Braw – This simply means ‘good’.

Couthie – If someone is couthie, they’re sweet and friendly.

Tumshie – A tumshie is a turnip. It can also be used to call someone a fool, or as a term of endearment, similar to the way the French say ‘mon petit chou’ (‘my little cabbage’) – but I’m getting into a wormhole here, because I believe some people think that phrase originally came from choux pastry, rather than cabbages…

Awa’ an bile yer heid – Okay, I don’t think I would ever use this one in conversation myself, but it does make me laugh. Literally, it means ‘go away and boil your head’; used when someone is being annoying or talking nonsense.

Lang may yer lum reek – Again, this isn’t something I would likely say, but I love the sentiment behind it. It translates as ‘long may your chimney smoke’ and it’s an old well-wish that you would typically say when parting ways with someone; the idea being that if your chimney was smoking, you had surplus wood to burn, and thus financial stability and a warm, safe home. You tend to only hear this around New Year these days, as an old-fashioned way of wishing people a long and happy life.

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Do you have favourite words or phrases from your native language or regional dialect?