Life Class by Pat Barker

With the release of Noonday, I thought it was about time I caught up with the first title in Pat Barker's second war trilogy, Life Class. It follows the story of talented artist, Elinor Brooke, her friend Kit Neville, a daringly different painter who is making waves on the art scene, and art student, Paul Tarrant. Both young men are drawn to Elinor, but she is cooly stand-offish, leaving Paul to throw himself into an affair with Teresa, an artist model and friend of Elinor's.
    Paul is from the north and a less genteel background, though his savvy grandmother was able to fund his schooling and has left him enough money to study art. This is where we find him, at London's Slade art school suffering under the critical eye of life-class teacher, Henry Tonks. Paul has a few good techniques up his sleeve, but his appreciation of human anatomy is hopeless and Tonks wonders why he is wasting his time there.
    It is the glorious summer of 1914, but the clouds of war are on the horizon. Dissatisfied with their lives for various reasons both Kit and Paul are desperate to see some action and eventually find themselves in France, Kit doing some war-reporting and Paul as an orderly in a field hospital. Barker really comes into her own recreating the smells, sounds and terrible sights as well as imagining the pain of wounded men being cared for in appalling conditions. There is never enough anaesthetic and the wounds horrific and barely imaginable.
    Before leaving London, Paul and Elinor had grown closer, and much of the latter part of the book consists of the letters they write to each other. Elinor refuses to have anything to do with the war effort, much to her parents' disgust, and carries on devoting her time to her painting. Paul is drawing too, but his subject matter is the terrible events he deals with day by day, which are surely unfit for public view. Both in their own ways are struggling with the role of art in the terrible human calamity that is war. There are glimpses of the Bloomsbury Group, described as a bunch of 'conchies', when Elinor becomes friends with Ottoline Morrell.
    Barker is a brilliant storyteller, her characters so distinct and intense. I love the way Elinor's point of view is loaded with the visual, and we see the world through her artist's eyes. Not that the language is ever wordy or overly descriptive, leaving the characters to get on with things. Which they do. The story builds, following Elinor's relationship with Paul on one hand, and as the danger of the front intensifies on the other. The question of whether relationships can survive a war that irrecoverably changes those caught up in it will surely be the subject of the next book in the series, Toby's Room, another to add to my 'must read' list.

Vanessa and Her Sister by Priya Parmar

At the start of this novel about the famous Bloomsbury sisters, Virginia Woolf is said to have decreed that she was the writer, and Vanessa the painter. Priya Parmar has given Vanessa Bell a literary voice in the form of this imaginary diary - a fascinating portrait of the Bloomsbury Group, which included Lytton Strachey, Maynard Keynes, Duncan Grant, Roger Fry, Ottoline Morrell and others. It is also the portrait of the falling out that occurred between the two sisters - a story of jealousy, madness, passion and grief.
    It begins in the year 1905 with the four Stephen siblings having recently moved to a house in avant-garde Bloomsbury, much to the consternation of more conservative relations. There is Vanessa, the older daughter, her brother Thoby, younger brother Adrian and mentally fragile Virginia. Vanessa justifies the move as a means to save costs - they may have to dip into their allowances if Virginia has another of her breakdowns, the last of which had led to time in hospital.
    The four are a happy and well-matched bunch, the boys popping down from Cambridge having garnered a group of lively and clever friends, who soon meet at the house on Thursdays. Daringly, the sisters don't dress for dinner and are the only females in soirees that go on into the small hours. But mostly what they seem to do is talk and what a lot to talk about there is, with Impressionism giving way to Fauvism and new ideas about politics and feminism to consider.
    Clive Bell is considered rather starchy by the group - this may be because he seems to be more of a red-blooded male than the other chaps - women are so formidable, perhaps it's the corsets or is the women's suffrage movement that puts the other lads off. And it seems all the women they are know are brilliantly talented in one way or other. But Bell is different, coming from hearty country gentry, and he quickly falls in love with Vanessa.
    Parmar's Vanessa Bell shines as a wonderful character. She's the sensible one who sorts out the household economics and worries about her sister. As well as calm and kindly, she's interesting, with her painterly eye and sensitive observations of other characters. Unlike Virginia. She maybe the burgeoning writer of classic novels we still read today, but Virginia is desperately possessive. Her jealousy over Clive which drives a wedge through Vanessa's marriage - though to be fair, Clive is easily swayed - is pure selfishness. She wants Vanessa for herself.
    Much of the book is written as Vanessa's diary, which could have given the book a somewhat halting pace. But I found myself quickly swept along, the book almost impossible to put down. Intermingled with Vanessa's diary entries are witty letters between Lytton Strachey and Leonard Woolf, a servant of the empire in Ceylon, but eventually heading home. There are also poignant letters from Roger Fry to his mother, telegrams and correspondence between the sisters and their friends.
    This is a well-researched and enthralling novel, and knowing that there is so much more to tell - the book finishes in 1912 - I wonder if there is a possibility of a sequel. I certainly hope so.

The Fountain Overflows by Rebecca West

You have to take your time with a book like The Fountain Overflows. The writing is rich and clever and the family it describes are eccentric in so many ways you find your imagination having to work overtime to create an image of their lives. It is all in the detail - and there is such a lot of it, detail I mean. And that is what makes it all so wonderful.
    The novel is a fictionalisation of Rebecca West's own childhood and is told in the voice of Rose Aubrey. It begins when she is around eight and the family are moving again, not just house but cities, from Edinburgh to London. But first there is a country holiday to be got through, just Rose, her mother and siblings: her older sisters, Cordelia who is beautiful but overbearing, and Mary who is her best pal and has a similar talent for the piano, and younger brother Richard Quin who is sweet and knows how to please everyone he meets.
    The reason the holiday is an ordeal is because Rose's mother is awkward with the farming family who have supplied their lodgings, and because her father, a brilliant journalist with a talent for losing money, has gone off to start his new job and find them a house in London. Unfortunately he forgets to tell them where it is and this causes many anxious moments.
    More anxious moments pepper the book, as Rose's father takes on various political causes and loses more money, while Rose and Mary perfect their piano technique ready for becoming concert pianists and being able to salvage the family fortunes. Richard Quinn can survive on charm alone, although he is also musically gifted, while Cordelia struggles with the violin and her pride.
   At first the story seems to ramble along like this, creating a picture of this colourful family and delineating their difficulty in making anything like a normal life in London. But then West throws in several unusual events that bring in even more eccentric characters. These include what seems to be a poltergeist in the home of Mrs Aubrey's old friend, and later on a murder.
    While these events are extraordinary and certainly give the plot a bit of oomph, they also serve the purpose of adding depth to the characters of the Aubrey family. Though my favourite story thread in the novel is the ongoing battle of Cordelia to prove her worth as a musician, while her mother wrings her hands in despair declaring that she plays Bach as if it were Beethoven and has absolutely no taste. Surprisingly this doesn't prevent her from acquiring the aid of a music teacher at school, the odious faux-bohemian Miss Beevor, and even giving concerts.
    There is such a lot to enjoy in the novel, particularly the faultless language which is full of wit and insight. West's portrait of what it can be like to be eccentric in a changing world is at times painful and yet wonderful at others. I can't believe I have never read Rebecca West before. Virago have done a stunning job of recognising the talents of early twentieth century women writers and I shall be hunting out more novels by West and others like her.

The Lovers of Amherst by William Nicholson

William Nicholson has carved a niche for himself writing intelligent novels about relationships, following a collection of interconnected characters over several generations. He does historical settings really well, and this novel features two time periods, the first is present day from the point of view of Alice Dickinson. She's a London copy writer researching the characters from the second time period for a screen play - the 'lovers of Amherst' of the title: Austin Dickinson (no relation) and Mabel Todd.
    Mabel is the young wife of an academic newly arrived at Amherst College and Austin the much older and unhappily married brother of American poet Emily Dickinson. It is 1885 when the two fall in love, meeting secretly in Emily Dickinson's house. Emily approves of their passion and while she is too much of a recluse to meet Mabel in person, she listens to their trysts through the dining room door. Who could resist writing a screenplay about that?
    Alice has her own issues with love. While she has broken the heart of Jack Broad, they remain friends and Jack offers her a contact in Amherst: the handsome older lecturer, Nick Crocker, who was once romantically involved with Jack's mother. Of course the inevitable happens, and Nick and Alice mirror the story of Austin and Mabel, told in alternating chapters.
    While this would make enough fodder for a reasonable love story, the novel goes a lot deeper than that, with discourses on the nature of love and happiness. Alice begins to learn the workings of her own feelings, chorused with snippets of Emily Dickinson's pithy and insightful poetry.
    It becomes a novel full of quotations and while I enjoyed lingering over the verse attempting to make connections to what is happening and for the glory of the poetry itself, I did tend to skim over Austin's and Mabel's effusive love letters - they wrote all the time to each other apparently. I also had reservations about the awkwardness of Alice and Nick's relationship, their often terse conversations, the see-sawing emotions.
    Towards the end though it begins to make more sense, as other characters step in, offer insight and help Alice grow up a little. I liked the advice Jack gives Alice about her screenplay.  As an English teacher who teaches 'narrative structure', he suggests she needs to start by figuring out how the play will end and that will define the story as a whole. Alice of course finds that the ending isn't quite how she'd originally imagined it and Nicholson ties this in nicely with an interesting conclusion to the novel as well.
     The Lovers of Amherst is well researched and evokes brilliantly its Massachusetts college town setting. The writing is assured and the characters well rounded and interesting, reminding me it is time I read some more of these interconnected novels. You can tell Nicholson really cares about his cast of characters, as he can't seem to let them go. I am reminded a little of Mary Wesley in this respect and wonder where Nicholson will take us next.

Lila by Marilynne Robinson

Lila is the third novel in Marilynne Robinson's Gilead trilogy, the first of which tells the story of John Ames, an elderly minister who is writing his family story for his young son. He has married for the second time late in life and he may not live long enough to see his son grow up.
    Lila is his wife's story. Told from Lila's point of view, it is at times a harrowing tale, but also one of those stories where the human spirit triumphs over adversity, which Lila experiences in spades.
    Lila is a neglected child, rescued if you can call it that, some would say kidnapped, by a passing drifter. Doll lives a hand-to-mouth existence, moving from town to town and picking up odd jobs. She has a scarred face and is illiterate, but no one can doubt her love and devotion to Lila. The two make a strong bond, but times become tough indeed when the 1930s Dust Bowl hits. They team up with a family driven off their farm and the group pool their resources, though Doll and Lila are barely tolerated.
    I have never read a novel where I recall such vividly recounted poverty - a lack of food and shelter experienced by ordinary folk who are just trying to get by. But somehow the two pull through and Doll even manages to stay in one place long enough for Lila to get a smattering of education. We learn that Lila is surprisingly bright, but fear drives them on again, Doll always looking over her shoulder and hiding her distinctive face in the shadows.
    These early years in Lila's story are recalled in flashbacks. Now a mature young woman, perhaps in her thirties, though this is never clear, Lila has made her way to the town of Gilead and meets Reverend John Ames. The two strike up a friendship and share interesting discussions about God and his purpose.  Lila helps herself to a bible from the church and alights on the grimmer texts from the Old Testament which resonate with her own struggles. She completely lacks what you might call social graces, but her intelligence and questioning nature have Rev. Ames scratching his head.
    Robinson is writer who stands out for her empathy and her ability to create an extraordinary character who has been through so much and who can think so deeply about it all. The love story that underpins the plot is delicately done, running parallel to the story of Lila's past, it all coming seamlessly together. She is also wonderful at creating a sense of time and place, the small town of Gilead, the Dirty Thirties, rural life in Iowa. It reminded me a little of Harper Lee, and Steinbeck with a hint of Pygmalion.
    For a book that really makes you think, Lila is also a pleasure to read, and I shall be hunting out the previous books in the trilogy, both of which have won literary awards. No surprises there!

After the Bombing by Clare Morrall

People struggling with events from the past often feature in Clare Morrall's subtly nuanced novels, and what could be more harrowing than losing your family in the blitz of World War Two. This is what happens to fifteen-year-old schoolgirl, Alma Braithwaite, when bombs rain down on Exeter in 1942. Her parents are doctors, killed when the hospital takes a direct hit, as does the boarders' house at Goldwyn's School.
    The girls have been chivvied out to the safety of their shelter to await the all clear, and the sound of the raid is truly terrifying. Fortunately Alma is in the company of her best friends, lanky Marjorie (Giraffe), brazen Natalie and Jane Curley (Curls) who has a prodigious talent for playing the piano with concerts and recordings already to her name.
    With nowhere else to go, the girls are eventually found billets throughout the town, and Alma and friends find themselves under the care of Robert Gunner, a junior lecturer at the university and warden of Mortimer Hall, the hostel for the small group of undergraduates who haven't been swallowed up by the war effort. Gunner himself is only twenty-seven, but with a serious limp has been turned down by the services. He does his bit with fire duty each night, and now has the care of four young girls on top of everything else.
    The novel switches between the spring of 1942 as the girls settle in at Mortimer Hall and the unsettled feelings that run between the various occupants there to twenty-one years later when a new headmistress is set to begin at Goldwyn's School. Wilhemina Yates is determined to shake things up and make improvements but comes into conflict with the music mistress, none other than Alma Braithwaite.
    Alma has never left Exeter, never left her parent's house, where she rattles around alone with total disregard for housework, and apart from her brief stint training to be a teacher, has never left her old school. As the new school year begins, she sees she is to have young Pippa Gunner in her form class. Could this be the daughter of Robert Gunner and will their paths cross again after all these years?
    When Robert learns who Pippa's form mistress is, he too is perturbed by the thought of past events flooding back from those weeks after the bombing. And even Miss Yates has her own secret that she fears could destroy her career, and her own post-bombing trauma.
    All three characters are on a collision course that forces them to relive what happened during the war, and if possible move on to a new future. Morrall has made them each well-rounded and difficult in their own way, enough to drive the plot towards its clever ending. For even though they are impelled by what happened over twenty years ago, their confrontation is set against a major event on world stage from the present - 1963, that is - not too hard to guess what that could be!
    Initially I had been deterred by the thought of yet another book about the war, but really I should have realised that this would be an original and engaging story, with an author like Morrall at the helm. One or two recurring themes here from previous books include the power of music to transform lives, as well the problems associated with reclusive and socially awkward personalities - themes that are well worth revisiting as they make Morrall's books so interesting.

Reckless by William Nicholson

Many books I read take a bit of an effort to get into; you decide to allow them say fifty pages, and if they don't grab you by then, you put them aside. William Nicholson's novel, Reckless, had me hooked from page one. The novel recaptures the military and political stand-off over the Cuban missile crisis of 1962. Scenes include Kruschev and John Kennedy and British Chief of Defence, 'Dickie' Mountbatten.
    The build up of tension is subtly done and the viewpoints flick from character to character - it would be easy to get lost, but Nicholson handles the whole thing deftly, keeping a lot of balls in the air and imagining the period so well. He does this through his three main characters.
    Rupert Blundell is an advisor to Mountbatten, has been since the war, before which he was studying philosophy. He's very shy with women, even his outgoing colleague, Joyce, and has decided love and marriage are not for him. His philosophy gets in the way it seems - for how can any person really know the heart of another?
    Rupert is forty-four when he meets Mary, whose lovely, open and desperately sad face attracts his attention while walking across St James's Park. A second meeting in the same spot leads him to rescue her from a kind of imprisonment at a convent. As a child she'd been the recipient of several visions, during which Christ called to her and said a great wind would bring about the world's end. It was the time of the bombing of Hiroshima and now with the Cuban missile crisis, the end of the world is a distinct possibility.
    Rupert brings Mary to his friends, Hugo and Harriet, who have a young daughter. Harriet is often unwell, and Mary proves to be a godsend. The role of nanny/home help was supposed to fall to Pamela, the step-daughter of Hugo's business partner. Eighteen-year-old Pamela has begged to be allowed to live in London, and staying at Hugo's is a kind of compromise.
    Pamela has envisaged for herself a romantic life involving a grand love affair, and dazzling the world with her gorgeousness.  She meets Stephen Ward at a very artistic cafe and he invites Pamela and her friends to a risqué nightclub. All at once Pamela is thrown into the hedonistic world of the idle rich, among them key players in what will erupt as the Profumo Affair. She learns, as one character points out, that society is full of 'lonely people looking for love and bored people looking for fun'.
    Reckless gives a very vivid picture of a time when the world seemed on the precipice of disaster. Nicholson has done his homework and recreated scenes based on actual events and real people. But it is also very much the story of Rupert, Mary and Pamela, who are all immensely sympathetic. A number of the characters from Reckless appear in Nicholson's earlier book, the acclaimed Motherland, and have links to characters in The Secret Intensity of Everyday Life and All the Hopeful Lovers. I haven't read any of these as yet, but if they are anything like Reckless, they are sure to be full of warmth, wisdom and sharp observation and I have a wonderful treat in store.

Life After Life by Kate Atkinson

Only an author the calibre of Kate Atkinson could pull off a novel like Life After Life. At its simplest, it the story of Ursula Todd, born in 1910, the middle child in a middle class family living in the country just north of London. She enjoys an idyllic childhood full of love and healthy outdoor pursuits, though her father goes off to fight in the trenches. Later it will be the Second World War that will define a chunk of her adulthood.
    Any further description of the plot is difficult because the story rewinds itself, killing off its main character, to let Ursula have another go at events and making alternative choices. Her first death occurs just as she is born, a freezing cold night in February, when snow prevents the arrival of a doctor. Another version of her life is curtailed when she drowns at the age of four, not so surprising as her mother Sylvie is a fairly self-absorbed woman who is often not aware of what her children are up to. The seaside holiday was always going to hold potential for disaster.
    And while the armistice in 1918 was met with great celebration, another potential threat lurked in the form of the Spanish influenza outbreak. All kinds of dangers beset Ursula as the story goes along – wicked men, intent on having their way with a pretty teenage Ursula, and even a serial killer. As an adult living in London, there’s the blitz to contend with.
    The reader soon spots the danger signs which charge the plot with plenty of tension. Ursula will succumb to death numerous times only to start off all over again, but with an increasing awareness that gives her a kind of second sight, which her parents find disturbing. She even takes a shot at Hitler.
    The constant repetitions of Ursula’s childhood and early adulthood could get a bit monotonous and even irritating, were it not for the wonderful characters of Ursula, her family and friends. You can never tire of the family scenes at Fox Corner where Ursula lives with her arrogant little squirt of a brother Maurice, her self-possessed sister Pamela and her adored little brother Teddy. Sylvie has a waspish tongue and a rather wicked eye for the cook’s son, George. The Irish maid, Bridget, has an amusingly forthright manner and an interesting love life. The realism shown in scenes of the Blitz is both poignant and disturbing.
    Running in the background are ideas about how we write stories, the weaving of narrative threads and the idea that if you could go back and relive your life, what would you do differently. It all adds up to an immensely satisfying read. I had been a bit miffed when I discovered that Atkinson's latest book wouldn’t be another Jackson Brodie mystery novel, and put off reading it. Now I see I have only delayed a wonderful treat.

The Lives of Stella Bain by Anita Shreve

Anita Shreve is undoubtedly a good writer. Her prose is smooth, clear and honed. Why it took me so long to get around to reading one of her novels, I am not sure, but when I picked up The Lives of Stella Bain, I was quite happy to immerse myself in this story of a World War One nurse who has lost her memory.
     I positively galloped through the first half of the book which took us from Marne in the battlefields of France, where Stella wakes up in a French field hospital, to London where she slowly pieces together snatches of memory. As Stella emerges from the fog of unconsciousness to discover that she is a nurse that can also drive an ambulance, the plot throws her back into life, amid the turmoil of war. No one knows where she has come from and no one seems to care so long as she can work.
    A chance remark nudges something in her mind and she becomes determined to get to London to visit the Admiralty. Exhausted by her journey, she is taken in by the Bridges – kindly Lily and her husband August, who happens to be a surgeon in cranial reconstruction. He is interested in Stella’s memory loss and is eager to take her on as a patient.
    Stella’s recovered awareness of her past is what drives the plot for the first half of the book. We slowly learn about her difficult marriage and her urge to track down an old friend who volunteered as a stretcher bearer. Her sessions with Dr Bridge with their insight into shell shock and her discovery of an artistic talent create some interesting scenes.
    The problem is that once Stella Bain discovers that she is actually Etna Bliss (these names are a semi-anagram as well as being clumsily meaningful - along with Bridge!) and she’s back in America, my interest began to fade. A big chunk of what remains is a civil court case which is rather dull, perhaps on account of the plodding dialogue and too many walk-on characters that lack depth. Finally there’s a chapter where Stella/Etna gets her life back on track and finds happiness. Game over.
    This is a shame as the book promised so much but failed to deliver in terms of sustaining the tension required to drive the plot. A lot rests on the character of Stella herself, but her character doesn’t develop much – she seems to be altogether too wonderful from the outset: passionate, artistic, clever and beautiful.
    There are a lot of really gripping and satisfying novels set around World War One. This unfortunately isn’t one of them. It might make a nice film though.

The Opposite of Falling by Jennie Rooney

In Jennie Rooney's novel, The Opposite of Falling, flight is a motif that connects three characters. Ursula Bridgewater has, in her early twenties, been jilted by her fiancé, a man with no substance according to Ursula's brother. Her reaction is to travel. It is the 1860s and Thomas Cook is beginning to take tour parties abroad.
    Ursula begins quietly with a trip to Wales and is encouraged by the friends she makes to travel again. Restless and unfulfilled when she is at home, travel becomes something to exercise her brain - if only she could stop writing those letters to her ex-fiance, now happily married and a father of two.
     Ten years later, Ursula is excited at the idea of another Thomas Cook expedition, this time to the United States, but who should she take with her? Having helped her maid, Mavis, into private enterprise, Ursula decides a sensible replacement would be the ideal travel companion.
    Sally Walker has been teaching at the convent which took her in on the death of her mother, but has blotted her copybook with Sister Thomas. She jumps at the chance to work for Ursula, who is kindly and treats her like an intelligent person. Sally is a hopeless shrinking violet, though, for although she has thoughts and desires, she is quite unable to express them.
    On the other side of the Atlantic Toby O'Hara grows up with the memory of his daring mother flying  a bat-inspired contraption built by his father - a toy-maker and would-be aviator - a flight that ended in her death. While flying machines are put aside by his dad, Toby as a teenager is drawn to ballooning and other air-born possibilities.
    The three characters meet in Niagara, to a background score of rushing water and it is here that they all discover how to take flight in a more metaphorical sense. This may make the novel seem overly contrived, and in a sense it is all about how its characters find what they really want in life and develop the courage to reach for it.
    Fortunately the narration of The Opposite of Falling is quirky and charming in an E M Forster kind of way that is very engaging. Rooney uses a detached style of writing about her characters that is slightly old-fashioned, rather than the stream of consciousness, present tense story-telling prevalent in many modern novels. (I enjoy this too as it gives a very immediate feel to a story.)
    You have to be really good at your craft to make a traditional style like this work and Rooney never puts a foot wrong. This is a small book, but very polished and poised. I liked it a lot.

The Sacred River by Wendy Wallace

The Sacred River is Wallace's second novel following her immensely poignant and engrossing debut, The Painted Bridge, which took you into the heart of a Victorian mental asylum. It wasn't your typical Victorian mental asylum story though, with plenty of curious twists for the reader and an ending full of promise.
    The Sacred River puts a similarly positive spin on what seems a grim beginning, this time with the possibility of imminent death. Three women take themselves out of a wintry London fog to Egypt on the recommendation of young Harriet Heron's doctor. Ongoing asthma attacks have made her a permanent invalid at the age of 23, but she hopes to see something of life before she dies.
    A self-educated girl with a fascination for ancient Egyptian culture and hieroglyphics, Harriet persuades her doctor to recommend a sojourn in Alexandria. Her father's bank conveniently has a house there. Her mother, Louisa, is nervous of the idea, but a visit to a spiritualist convinces her that death is nigh, and she is determined to make the trip happen. She's a flighty woman, famous for her beauty, but not so good on practical matters - although she does pop a gun in the bottom of her trunk. The reader knows that this gun is going to surface at some stage later in the story.
    Meanwhile, her husband arranges for his no-nonsense sister, Yael, to go with them. She's very reluctant as she has her good works to attend to and the responsibility of caring for her elderly father, but eventually she gives in.
    On the journey Harriet meets Mrs Cox, newly married, and a dab hand with the tarot cards. Mrs Cox tells Harriet that she will meet her future husband on the boat and that she will have several children. The only eligible man in sight is Eyre Soane, a painter of landscapes, whose famous father once painted Louisa as a girl. There is clearly going to be journey into the past, and old scores to be settled.
    Fortunately Egypt has a revivifying effect on Harriet, giving her the courage to imagine a future. The arrival of a fierce wind set to last for weeks drives Harriet and her mother to Luxor, where Harriet gets absorbed in the ancient sites at Thebes. She meets the German archaeologist, Dr Woolfe, and helps at the dig Woolfe is working on by making drawings of hieroglyphs.
   Meanwhile Aunt Yael finds a purpose in life she has never felt before, starting a clinic to help the poor children of Alexandria, many of whom seem to be afflicted by eye infections.
    The book is on the one hand a story of self-discovery for three women as well as being a wonderfully engaging novel full of drama, romance, secret shame and vendetta. In the background the natives are restless, and violence lurks around the corner. The insight from Harriet's translation of ancient Egyptian symbols is intriguing and gives the book an extra dimension. The writing is excellent too - it is hard to imagine anything else that would make this book better - one of my top reads for the year.

A Humble Companion by Laurie Graham

I could so very easily add Laurie Graham to my list of favourite authors - she so rarely disappoints. Her latest novel, A Humble Companion, describes the lifelong friendship between Princess Sofy, one of the younger children in George III's large family, and Nellie Welche, the daughter of an enterprising baker and steward to the royals. It is King George himself who notices that little Sofy could do with a friend from the outside world, which is very perceptive of him considering he is the king who ends up completely off his rocker, sadly.
    Nellie is twelve when this arrangement is made, and while she is still able to carry on normal life with her family, she is from time to time requested to spend a few weeks with Sofy, sometimes in their royal house in London, and at others at watering holes on the south coast. The story is told completely from Nellie's point of view and  she makes intelligent comments on what she sees within the walls of the royal apartments, accommodation which is surprisingly lacking in luxury.
    As the years pass, Sofy and her sisters continually miss opportunities for mixing with other suitable young men; often fantasising about attractive equerries, cocooned as they are by their mother, Queen Charlotte. Somehow politics, war and the prejudices of their parents seem to intrude.
    Meanwhile their brothers make all kinds of unsanctioned alliances and secret marriages, the eldest of them, the future Prince Regent, famously with Mrs Fitzherbert. While Prinny fritters away a fortune on parties and fripperies, Nellie grows up and, in spite of a disfiguring birthmark, makes a sensible marriage, helps in the family business and becomes a published author.
    We are treated to a sensitive portrayal of what it is to be a woman 'in trade' at this time. In the background however, huge change is erupting over the Channel, with the French Revolution and the execution of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Napolean sweeps in and there is war, so the English princes rush off to join their regiments. While these events unnerve the Royalties, as Nellie calls them, the world of the princesses remains pitifully small. Surprisingly, Sofy manages to disgrace herself to such an extent that marriage becomes out of the question.
    Laurie Graham does a magnificent job of capturing the events of the time from her characters' eyes, and offering what seems a very audacious theory for Sofy's fall - although a quick trawl through the Internet reveals that this view does indeed hold water. Nellie is sparky and wry which gives the writing plenty of colour, as well as insight. The frequently tragic events are tempered with more humorous moments making A Humble Companion one of the most readable historical novels ever. I completely devoured it and have been quite at a loss since I finished the last chapter.

The Lifeboat by Charlotte Rogan

'Layered with ambiguity' is one phrase in Hilary Mantel's glowing recommendation on the cover of Charlotte Rogan's novel, The Lifeboat. Perhaps one of the most glaring ambiguities is the title itself.
    The story is that of Grace Winter, who is seen into a lifeboat by her rich banker husband, just as the passenger liner, the Empress Alexandra is about to sink. It is 1914, World War One is just getting going, and Grace is returning to Boston with her new husband to a comfortable life, having avoided the necessity of becoming a governess. She is 22, beautiful and with everything to look forward to.
    We know early on though that Grace is a survivor. When we first meet her, it is some time after her rescue, and Grace and two other women survivors are being tried for murder. What could possibly have happened on the lifeboat, the reader wonders? And so begins a tense tale that reels you in.
    There are thirty-nine people on the lifeboat, mostly women, under the stewardship of Mr Hardie, a grim-faced, weather battered ship's officer who makes some tough decisions and quickly organises the group's seating to balance the perilously laden boat. The ship's owners have cut costs and there were not enough lifeboats for the number aboard. Hardie works out a roster for bailing duty, but if the weather turns rough, someone will have to go over the side.
    Mrs Grant, however, disagrees with Mr Hardie on most questions of survival right from the start. Should they stay near the ship in hope of rescue or should they try to row for land? There are disputes over the rationing of water and ships' biscuits and then there is the question of whether Mr Hardie is hiding something? Is Grace on board because her wealthy husband was able to bribe him?  
   Mrs Grant is a commanding woman with a captivating manner - Grace would love to win her approval, but never quite seems to. Mannish Hannah, who throws long intense looks at Grace, will do everything Mrs Grant says and soon the two are thick as thieves. Grace however sides with Mr Hardie. She recognises his superior knowledge in things maritime and besides, he's quite good looking in an odd sort of way. She gives him looks of encouragement when Mrs Grant is at her most undermining and hopes she has won his trust.
    In no time at all, Charlotte Rogan has set up an intense situation within the claustrophobic confines of the lifeboat. It is a harrowing story, and of course we know that there are soon going to be deaths. Some of the survivors are in poor shape. There are older people on board and even a child. We know things can only get worse, this is a survival story after all.
    And that is probably the crux of the novel - just what does it take to survive a disaster? Grace has already dodged the prospect of a less genteel existence, she is determined and resourceful. Will this be enough? On board there is a vicar - will God save him? Mrs Grant often leads the group in a hymn, but perhaps this is to galvanise the group's spirit and therefore her obvious strengths as a leader.
    The Lifeboat is the kind of book you can read in one sitting, the tense situation it describes makes it hard to put down. But you probably won't forget it in a hurry. As with many survival stories, you can't help but take a good look at yourself and wonder how far would you go to ensure you are a survivor.

A Treacherous Likeness by Lynn Shepherd

You could say that poets were the rock stars of the 1800s, and when you look at Percy Bysshe Shelley,
his wife Mary (author of Frankenstein) and their friend Lord Byron you can certainly see the similarities. Even though Shelley didn't achieve fame and fortune in his lifetime, the rock-star behaviour was certainly there - the drugs, the women and a tragically early death just for starters.
    Lynn Shepherd weaves Shelley's story into a new case for her detective hero Charles Maddox, whom we met in Tom-All-Alone's, a wonderful book that I reviewed earlier this year. A Treacherous Likeness begins some thirty odd years after the poet's death, when Sir Percy Shelley, his son, leaves a calling card at Charles's house in London, a small event that has a big impact. Charles's uncle has a stroke that leaves him partially paralysed and unable to talk. Uncle Maddox has had dealings with the Shelleys before and it is his early case that becomes the crucial mystery which young Charles must investigate.
    Sir Percy and his wife have worked hard to keep the Shelley flame burning, and this includes the kind of damage control that saw any unauthorised biographies nipped in the bud, and incriminating papers destroyed. They ask Charles to negotiate with a particular party who has certain documents for sale that might show the poet in a poor light.
    Charles manages to inveigle his way into the home of the person in question only to discover that she is none other than Claire Claremont, Mary Shelley's hated step-sister and one-time lover of Byron. The four were together in Italy at the point when Frankenstein was written and events took place that changed their lives for ever. But it soon becomes apparant that the documents Sir Percy and Lady Shelley are really worried about are closer to home, that is, the case notes made by Uncle Maddox, which Charles soon discovers have disappeared.
     As Charles searches for the missing pages, and talks to his uncle's old assistant, George Fraser, little by little, the facts come out that explain much of what happened to the poet and his circle, as well as to Uncle Maddox.
    The story includes the suicide of two young women that Shelley was connected with, the sadly early mortality of several of Shelley's young children - were these deaths natural or was there mischief afoot? There is the question of Shelley's mental state, his sudden mood swings, his violent dreams and moments of terror. Was this to blame for the tragic events that dogged the poet for most of his life or was it the menage a trois of Shelley, Mary and Claire, which fuelled such jealousy that left the sisters no longer on speaking terms?
    In many ways the book is not the mystery novel that one might have expected following the first Charles Maddox adventure - there isn't an obvious murder, and Charles isn't chasing criminals and dodging danger. This is more an historical novel that aims to describe the life of two famous literary figures, but that doesn't mean it lacks an exciting plot.
    Lynn Shepherd has certainly done a massive amount of research and the novel that has eventuated is as intriguing as any murder mystery and the sad events that touch the lives of both detectives make it all the more poignant. You may wonder if the author has taken a huge liberty in the kinds of things she suggests may have happened. The notes at the back of the book however do give a good degree of insight on the writing of the book and argue a strong case for Shepherd's theories. One can only wonder what she has in store for Charles Maddox next.

Small Wars by Sadie Jones

Sadie Jones made a terrific debut with her novel, The Outcast, one of those stories involving family secrets, a tragic death and an awkward main character trying to make sense of it all when all the world seems against him. It was altogether stunning and I have been meaning to catch up with Jones's Small Wars, for quite some time.
    While not quite in the same class as The Outcast for a compelling character and gripping storyline, Small Wars is I think a more thought provoking novel. It describes a little-known part of British history, for me anyway - the British forces involvement in Cyprus during the 1950s - and the effects of army policy on those caught up in it all - in particular the soldiers and their wives.
    Yes, this is another soldiers' wives sort of story, but done tremendously subtly here, as you might expect, because Jones is one of those authors who can get right inside her characters and make them real.
    These include Major Hal Traherne, a talented young officer with a bright future, and his lovely wife, Clara, who has just arrived on Cyprus with their twin daughters. They are eventually housed safely in the army compound with other army families, but there is the perpetual problem with any kind of war, for men and families alike: long spells of tedium broken up by moments of violence and terror.
    Cyprus is a challenge in that although it is a 'small war', it has its particular difficulties. The Cypriot rebels use guerilla tactics often resulting in British casualties before vanishing into the mountains. To maintain control the British have to come down hard on the rebels in a way that makes one wonder where the Geneva Convention would stand in all of this. The things Hal sees and does he cannot discuss with Clara, so the war becomes a wedge between them, affecting Hal's behaviour to her and their marriage.
    Clara meanwhile tries to be the correct army wife, smiling and caring for her children. But it is a tremendously lonely time for her, and she finds friends few and far between. The thin walls that separate their house from that of Mark and Deirdre reveal a marriage in strife. Deirdre is obviously not being a good army wife, but Clara does her best to be supportive none the less. Another friend is Davis, a young classics scholar doing his compulsory military service as a translator, an important role that he frequently finds disturbing, witnessing as he does some very unpleasant interrogations.
    The story centres on the struggles the characters each experience in this small war to do what is expected of them while maintaining a facade of normal life as the violence around them intensifies. This eventually explodes into the lives of Hal and Clara, throwing them into an unenviable crisis that has life-changing effects.
    Sadie Jones does well at recreating what it might have been like on Cyprus at this time, and the book has a lot to say about the patriarchal system that dominated British colonial policy. I am sure the lengths the British went to to maintain their colonial interests here and in other parts of the world seemed perfectly justifiable in the past. We might think we know better now, but sadly there are still small wars and that is probably not going to change. As I said before, this book gives you a lot to think about.

San Miguel by T C Boyle

San Miguel by T C Boyle is the kind of novel that takes an intriguing setting, in this case a windswept island off the coast of California, throws at it a few interesting characters and then sits back to see what happens. There's also a historical element to add some atmosphere. 
   But really, most of all, it's character all the way, because I guess that's what islands do: they strip away all the appendages of civilized life - the social obligations, fashion, career prospects and class interactions, and so on. What is left is the islanders themselves and how they relate to their immediate families and natural surroundings.
    You have to be good with characters to make a novel like this work, and Boyle is supremely good. He copes admirably with writing from a female point of view - in this case three women - over two different periods of history.
    The first begins in 1888, when Marantha arrives with her husband, Will, her teenage daughter, Edith, and their Irish servant.  The island is Will's idea. Vigorous and determined, he's a veteran of the Civil War, needing a chance to be his own man, optimistic about the potential the island's sheep station offers. He has convinced Marantha to invest the last of her money in the venture, promising the clean air that will cure her tuberculosis.
    When cheerful optimism turns to bitter disappointment and worse, Edith is coerced into helping out. But she has her heart set on a more glamorous life. How these two women leave the island drives the plot for the first half of the book. 
    The rest of the novel concerns Elise's story. She has been swept off her feet by Herbie, who is exuberant and charming, just when she thought she was a spinster for life. It is 1930 and Herbie, too, is traumatized by his wartime experiences, but covers it up with his passion for Elise and for their island adventure. Elise soon becomes immersed in life on the island, and her marriage seems truly blessed, until the outside world and the rumblings of another war start to intrude.
    San Miguel may not be the happiest of novels, and it might even put you off the dream of getting away from it all. But this is a terrific story - inventive and captivating, at the same time giving the reader plenty of food for thought. Boyle is an accomplished writer, his prose is both elegant and natural - I shall certainly be seeking out his previous novels.