Welcome to my first review of 2021 where I say absolutely nothing about the plot of the book.
Deborah Levy’s The Man Who Saw Everything is best read cold. There’s a blurb, but don’t worry about it. If stories about East Germany, or The Beatles, or how memory works are of interest, add this book to your list. If that’s not enough to convince you, know there’s an extraordinarily clever plot twist. Continue reading
I am genetically blessed with what some refer to as ‘good skin’. I never had pimples as a teen and I’ve never worn makeup. My skin routine is essentially washing my face with water and using a supermarket moisturiser when I remember. When I was 42, a cosmetic-surgeon-acquaintance told me that Botox at my age was ‘pointless because the wrinkles were already there’. Apparently you need to start young so that you never have any wrinkles to smooth out in the first place. Thankfully I don’t care about wrinkles* and nor was I in anyway offended that the acquaintance assumed Botox was on my radar!
Anyway, this is a long introduction to Frances Cha’s accomplished and fascinating debut, If I Had Your Face. Continue reading
Gary Braun’s novel, Coco Was Paradise, reminded me of all the reasons why I can’t stand info-dumping in novels. Continue reading
There’s always a risk with sequels, particularly when you love the bit that came first. And I enjoyed The Dressmaker by Rosalie Ham – her signature blend of rural Australian noir, satire, and the lampooning of small-town politics was good fun. With Ham’s stories, there’s never any doubt as to who the ‘goodies’ and the ‘badies’ are – it’s the book equivalent of a pantomime, where you’re shouting “He’s behind you!”
The Dressmaker’s Secret follows Ham’s formula – there’s a bit of mystery and intrigue; and you know the villains will eventually get their comeuppance. Continue reading
I don’t ordinarily write detailed reviews about audiobooks. Especially audiobooks about birds, because my feelings about about birds are this:
Rather than this: Continue reading
I’ve struggled to write reviews for much of this year. I blame working from home. After a day of work, I have no desire to stay sitting at my desk. And so, I’ll continue to keep a record of what I’ve read with short reviews (these are very, very short). Continue reading
I’m limping to the reading finish line this year, and in order to get there, I’m choosing books that demand very little from me. Ghosts by Dolly Alderton fitted the bill nicely.
‘Chick-lit’… ‘Women’s fiction’… I’m not even sure what these labels mean now. When I was in my twenties, it meant you could walk into a book store, pick up a novel with a hot pink cover and a picture of a stiletto shoe on the front, and be sure that you would have a fun bit of reading ahead. This genre has not been my choice in the last 15 odd years, but 2020 seems to have changed all sorts of things. Continue reading
Very occasionally, I’m part way through a book and I have to phone my best reading buddy and say, “Can you please start reading X immediately because I’m going to need to debrief.” She always complies. I did this recently, and a week later we spoke about Wild Game by Adrienne Brodeur for a full hour.
Brodeur’s memoir is about her experience growing up with her charismatic and complicated mother, Malabar. When Brodeur was fourteen, Malabar woke her at midnight to confess that she had kissed her husband’s (Brodeur’s step-father) best friend, Ben.
Brodeur instantly became her mother’s confidante and accomplice, helping her Malabar and Ben spend time together.
Deception takes commitment, vigilance, and a very good memory. To keep the truth buried, you must tend to it. Continue reading
Satire isn’t my go-to when I want a laugh but I did enjoy this spiky little story about relationship triangles and over-inflated egos.
Marcy Dermansky’s Very Nice is told from the perspective of three characters – it begins with Rachel Klein, who never meant to kiss her creative writing professor. Said writing professor is Zahid Azzam, and he never planned to become a house guest in Rachel’s sprawling Connecticut home, but he does. Rachel’s mother, Becca, never thought she’d have a love affair so soon after the end of her marriage, but when Zahid arrives, she does… Continue reading
It’s time for my AY (that’s Annual Yates, not Young Adult).
I limit my reading of Yates because I find his stories intensely depressing. But I admire them for exactly the same reason.
Given that most of the year has been spent in lockdown, I decided I hardly needed to add a Yates-induced-existenital-crisis to the mix, so chose to re-read one of the first books I read by him (pre-blogging) – Disturbing the Peace. Continue reading