Night Train to Jamalpur by Andrew Martin

Andrew Martin might well have called this novel 'Snakes on a Train'. His railway detective, Jim Stringer, has been sent to Calcutta  to investigate corruption and security arrangements on the East Indian Railway. It is 1923 and with Lydia and their sixteen year old daughter Bernadette in tow, his secondment was supposed to be a kind of working holiday.
    But someone has been secreting venomous snakes in first class carriages and the body count begins to climb. Jim feels that this should be something he could look into, and of course he does, hampered as he is by fellow investigator, the cigar smoking and monstrously rude, Major Fisher. The two are on the night train of the title, when a murder takes place - Jim rudely awakened by sounds outside his compartment and then gunshot.
    The Anglo Indian, John Young, with whom Stringer had been chatting and sharing an evening drink just hours before, is found dead while horsemen ride off into the night. It is difficult to suggest a motive for the killing unless Jim himself is the target, a means of stalling any investigations into railway corruption.
    And Jim can only wonder who has stolen the folder of potentially damning information that had arrived on his desk the day before. If only he'd had the chance to read it first. Jim is inclined to suspect Fisher, who is uncooperative and who he believes is carrying a gun, which for some reason fails to appear when their carriage is searched by police.
    If that isn't enough to be going on with, Jim begins to worry that his daughter Bernadette is about to be swept off her feet by the son of a Maharajah, known to the family as the RK. On top of this Bernadette is out almost every night dancing with her posher pals and spending small fortunes on hats. Meanwhile Jim's wife, Lydia, is eager to spread the word about the women's movement in India at a time when revolution is in the air. But Jim worries that there is something else niggling her.
    Jim's investigations take him from balls held by Anglo high society and golfing with the RK to clandestine meetings with snake charmers. There is a host of potential suspects, most of them peculiar in some way - the strangely faceless William Asquith in charge of the traffic department who spends more than he could possible earn,  his subordinate Dougie Poole, who has a brilliant mind hidden by his tendency to be off his face most of the time, as well as Professor Hedley Fleming who knows an inordinate amount about snakes, to name but three.
    While this novel isn't as pacy as some Jim Stringer novels, there is a lot going on and enough action to keep the reader well amused. And laced through everything is Jim's knack for wry observations and local colour. The India situation in itself is interesting, with whisperings about that upstart, Gandhi while Lydia has plenty to say about British colonial domination.
    Night Train to Jamalpur is the last in the Jim Stringer series to date, its author seemingly beavering away on other projects. We've seen Jim delve into all manner of cases in a range of interesting settings. Will there be more in the series? I certainly hope so as this is probably my favourite current mystery series - where it doesn't really matter 'whodunit', as the story is all in the telling. Which is just as it should be.

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!

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel

Station Eleven is one of the more original novels I've read in some time. It describes a world where a deadly flu virus has killed more than ninety-nine per cent of the Earth's population. But this isn't a simple dystopian/survival novel, although it has elements of that. It's also somewhat 'six degrees of separation' as it follows the lives of several people caught up in events on the last day before the flu wreaked havoc.
    And it all begins on stage at the Elgin Theatre in Toronto with the Act Four death of Arthur Leander due to cardiac arrest. Although Arthur will not be around for the 'end of the world as we know it' that follows, he is the character that connects the others, one way or another.
    Leaping on stage to give CPR, is Jeevan Chaudhary, a trainee paramedic. Jeevan was at one time a paparazzo who stalked Leander, one of the most celebrated actors of his day and with a gossip-worthy social life. It is through Jeevan, that the reader gets to take in the dawning horror of the pandemic, the panic hoarding of groceries, the final decision to abandon the city in an attempt to survive.
    Also on stage is child actor, Kirsten Raymonde, who is still playing Shakespeare twenty years later with a travelling orchestra. The world has altered enormously, people preferring to live in small settlements, some ruled by fear or menace, to protect themselves from marauding bandits. The players are armed with crossbows and Kirsten carries several knives at her belt, which she has learned to throw with deadly accuracy.
    The novel switches back and forth between the nail-biting future and a more decadent past, centred on our famous actor, introducing more characters who will somehow play a role in what transpires later on. One of these is Arthur's first wife, Miranda, who works for a shipping company, and spends her free hours creating a richly imagined alternative world called Station Eleven, in the form of intricately drawn graphic novels.
     Kirsten has a couple of copies, much read and dog-eared, to go with her small collection of memorabilia - the press cuttings featuring Leander, and the snow-globe she has carried in her backpack since that fateful night in Toronto. But she isn't the only one who harkens back to the past. The players find Shakespeare relevant to the new world they finds themselves in, and their motto: Survival is Insufficient, is a quotation from Star Trek.
    The story moves on in this zig-zag manner throwing up more connections between the characters as the orchestra, escaping from a cult leader and his team of thugs, converges on a disused airport. This is the home to one of the larger communities of survivors, and here Mandel has created a brilliantly atmospheric setting. It is good to know that if you find yourself in an airport when civilisation comes to an end, there is a lot of useful stuff on hand.
    Station Eleven is a wonderful book in which you can completely immerse yourself, combining the page-turning action of a survival story with complex characters and thoughts on nostalgia and celebrity culture. It is, not surprisingly, another of the novels I have read recently that have made the long-list of the Baileys Women's Prize for Fiction - the short-list will be announced in a few days.

Jane and Prudence by Barbara Pym

Pym is often described as a 20th century Jane Austen. Perhaps this is more obvious in Jane and Prudence as the eponymous Jane sees herself as a bit of matchmaker. Although she doesn't quite get into as much trouble as Austen's Emma does, and as Pym puts it when describing the modern novel, the ending is not obviously a happy one, with a number of possibilities still on the table.
    The story begins with Jane and Prudence, who were at university together, at an Oxford reunion. Here their old tutor, Miss Birkenshaw, remarks about what her students have gone on to achieve. A number, like Jane, have married clergymen, others have their work in a ministry or have dogs, while a question mark hovers Prudence. Jane feels Miss Birkenshaw might have said that Prudence has her love affairs.
    As she and her husband settle into a new parish, Jane begins to look around for a suitable husband for Prudence, now twenty-nine - an age when she could so easily miss the marriage boat altogether.
    Prudence meanwhile lives in a tastefully decorated flat in London, where she works as an assistant for a Dr Grampion, editing books 'nobody could be expected to read'. She has secretly been in love with her employer who one evening when they were working late, had laid a hand on hers and said, 'Ah, Prudence.'
    Pym creates amusing little scenes around Prudence's workplace, where the older ladies, Miss Clothier and Miss Trapnell, fuss about whether the typists will manage to bring in the tea on time, or if Mr Manifold can be prevailed upon to share some of his tin of Nescafe when the tea has run out. This is the early fifties and rationing is still the bane of everyone's existence.
    Similarly in Jane's village, there is always the worry of what to have for dinner, Jane usually relying on opening a tin, but rescued by the wonderful Mrs Glaze, the housekeeper whose nephew is the village butcher. Mrs Glaze consequently knows whose turn it is for liver, and who will be having 'a casserole of hearts' that evening.
    The scene is set for plenty of humour as Jane lines up potential candidates for when Prudence comes to stay, lured by a fundraising whist drive. The most obvious seems to be the recently widowed Fabian Driver, who has had a few love affairs himself but has a nice house on the green. There is also young Mr Oliver who looks palely interesting when reading the lesson, and the local MP, Edward Lyall. So many possibilities.
    It could all be a bit silly if it weren't for Pym's wit and the lively dialogue that captures the time; the daft preoccupations of parish life, starkly contrasting with quotations from Jane's academic speciality: the poetry of the seventeenth century.  Contrast gives the book a bit of oomph in many ways - the two main characters, one from the town and one from the country - and the contrast between people's expectations and what transpires. Jane and Prudence is a delightful read, redolent with subtle wisdom, that will leave you in a better place.

The Separation by Dinah Jefferies

The Separation is one of those wonderfully escapist novels that packs in an atmospheric setting, in this case, 1950s Malaya. It conjures up the somewhat dissolute expat way of life, the gin-slings and infidelity, which was probably just a way of coping with the heat. It reminded me a little of those old black and white movies where you can hear jungle drums and crickets in the background while the plantation owner mutters, The natives are restless tonight.
    Although half of the novel is set in England. This is because it is told from the point of view of two main characters. First there is Lydia Cartwright, who with her Rita Hayworth looks, has been a bit naughty and started an affair which she hasn't kept very secret. She has been visiting a friend who is ill, when she returns to find hubby Alec and her children gone, the house left empty with no note, so she begins to panic.
    The British District Officer tells her Alec and her young daughters have gone north to Alec's new posting in Ipoh, where the natives truly are restless - with Communist insurgents undermining British rule with guerilla tactics. So Lydia, must make the dangerous journey to join her family alone, even having to borrow cash from her worldly friend, Cicely, as Alec has taken most of their money.
    We read about Lydia's desperate journey where she witnesses atrocities when her bus is attacked. She finds herself taking care of a small boy, Maznan, whose mother has joined the rebels, when a striking man of mixed race joins her and helps her; I imagined a kind of Yul Brynner.
    But while Lydia is making this arduous journey, her daughters, Emma and Fleur, are travelling by cargo ship with Alec to England. This part of the story is narrated by eleven-year-old Emma, who with her wild red hair reminds her father too much of Lydia and as such she never seems able to please him. On the journey the family becomes friendly with amicable Veronica, who seems to have an attraction for Alec, and her creepy brother, Mr Oliver, who has wandering hands.
    In England, Emma finds it hard to settle in the cold climate and cramped house that they share with Alec's parents. Grandma fortunately is a kindly old soul but Emma is always in trouble, until boarding school seems to be the only solution. The school, run by nuns, is particularly bleak, and Emma finds it hard to cope with bullying on the one hand, and the harsh regime on the other, but at least she makes a friend in perpetually naughty Susan. On top of everything, her father has led his daughters to believe that their mother has abandoned them and is missing, believed dead.
    There is a lot going on in the story - we have Emma's dealing with adolescence and her missing mother, who she never really gives up on, amid difficult relationships with the adults in her life. And then there's Lydia's desperate search for her family, and a terrible bombshell that causes her to teeter on the edge of madness. How she copes and pulls herself together when one awful thing happens after another gives her a chance to grow strong and is a key part of the story. But how to navigate a path to the truth when everyone seems to be either lying or hiding a woeful secret of their own makes Lydia seem doubly blighted.
    The Separation is a captivating story which makes you keep reading to see what happens. Feelings run high, there's a ton of drama and missing links that make for tantalising if not very demanding reading. The Malaya setting is brilliantly recreated here, a testament to the author's research and her own childhood years spent in the colony.

A God in Every Stone by Kamila Shamsie

This is a novel that sweeps you through epoch changing events of history. We experience this through the eyes of those caught up in war and rebellion, but also through the painstaking work and passion of archaeology. And who could be more passionate about the subject than Vivian Rose Spencer who manages to talk her father into letting her accompany his great friend, archaeologist Tahsin Bey, on a dig in Labraunda, Turkey.
    There are many references to the ancients: Pliny and Herodotus, Darius and Scylax, with Tahsin Bey as Vivian's teacher, and the two develop a bond that promises more than friendship. But it is the summer of 1914, with a war beginning that will turn friends into enemies; a time when love can turn so easily into betrayal.
    Vivian returns suddenly to England and becomes a VAD nurse, like her suffragette friend, and dreams of Tahsin Bey and of his great wish to visit the ancient site of Caspatyrus, now Peshawar. It is here he believes he will find the embellished coronet given to Scylax in return for his mission to discover where the Indus ran into the sea. She's a determined young woman, but becoming unhinged by her nursing experiences, she decides her calling is the dig in Peshawar not a war hospital.
    And Peshawar just happens to be where our second narrator comes from. Qayyum Gul was proud to fight for the British but losing an eye at Ypres has become disillusioned and haunted by his wartime experiences. He meets Viv on his train home, sharing cigarettes. Such interaction would be impossible with women from his own culture, but this time it seems quite natural and a moment of understanding passes between them.
    At the train station Qayyum's young brother, Najeeb, has arrived to meet him, but the boy is disconcerted by his brother's grim appearance and ends up helping Viv find her hotel instead. Viv sparks an interest in Najeeb to discover more about the past and his people's ancient history. But more than a decade later, Najeeb's skills as an archaeologist will take a back seat to defining moments in modern history and the three characters will meet again in very different and disturbing circumstances.
    A God in Every Stone is a very absorbing read that is also full of wisdom, creating a picture of a time when British colonisation is teetering, and social change is rushing forward in the wake of a world war that has turned everything on its head. Women will gain the vote in England, but in the north of India they are often not educated and must wear a burqua.
    Viv and Qayyum are each given a moral dilemma, and unintended consequences recur through the book as its characters must grapple with things bigger than themselves. The effects of terrible events like the massacre of Armenians, the casualties in the trenches and the violent quashing of peaceful resistance in India by the ruling British are reflected in the loss experienced by the main characters. Shamsie creates tremendous empathy in the reader for these characters so that you drift from moments to terrible foreboding to shock and even outrage.
    But there is also much to enjoy in the richness of her settings - from Labrounda to Peshawar, the heat and the intensity of momentary sensations: the touch of a hand on a wrist, the soothing quality of water, the colours and tastes. It all adds up to masterful storytelling that makes history come alive and also makes you want to find out more about it.

Death by Water by Kerry Greenwood

For some fun, light entertainment Kerry Greenwood's series of 1920s mystery novels featuring private detective, Phryne Fisher are hard to beat. In Death by Water Phryne and her companion, Dot are cruising around New Zealand on the Hinemoa, a luxury cruise ship - their mission: to uncover a jewel thief. Why am I slightly reminded of Dame Edna Everage and her side-kick Madge? It might be the contrast between the flamboyant employer and her quiet, dowdy companion. Or it might be their Melbourne provenance. Anyway there are no gladioli here nor diamante spectacles. Phryne is far to sophisticated for that.
    And boy does she know her classics and Lalique. She's quite a match for the informative Navigation Officer Green who is given the task to show her round the impressively appointed ship and apprise her of the job at hand. He is utterly smitten of course, as Phryne is beautiful too, in that dainty, flapper kind of way, as well as smart and at times scarily frank about her sexuality.
    Anyway in this story we have the classic whodunit set up of a group of people confined in one setting who each have opportunity to commit the crime. They all happen to be conveniently seated at Table Three for meals in the first class dining room. Dot is of course travelling second class and gets to know the maids and shipboard attendants and all the gossip they provide.
    Table Three has quite a diverse bunch of characters: Professor Applegate is a kind of New Zealand Margaret Meads, which is handy for background detail as she knows all about the Maori and early New Zealand history. Albert Forrester is a photographer who takes pictures of the female form. Enough said! Mr West is grumpily middle aged with a young flirty wife. Mr and Mrs Cahill are retired farmers from the outback. Tetchy Mr Singer suffers from dyspepsia and bullies his wife. Jack Mason is a lively young man desperate to avoid a career in law, which is his father's wish. Marjory Lemmon is accompanying her elderly uncle Vivian Aubrey, both ex British raj.
    And we mustn't forget the all-female band, Mavis and the Melody Makers, who for some reason nobody likes, although they know their stuff when it comes to dance music. Phryne dangles a carrot for the thief in the form of a large, lustrous sapphire, with a supposed provenance from an Indian temple - all quite fake, and the action slowly begins.
    The reader can't but wonder, however, when the murder will take place - the book isn't called Death by Water for nothing - and some might be disappointed that it takes quite some time - at least three quarters of the book. What a blood-thirsty bunch we mystery readers are!
    But with a Phryne Fisher novel like this, it's really all about the journey - and I mean that literally as well as figuratively - because there is so much to enjoy. The writing is crisp and engaging and Miss Fisher always entertaining. And there's quite enough going on with blackmail, Mickey Finns, shipboard romance and infidelity, attempted murder as well as the real thing, and the general marvellousness of the luxury cruise ship setting.
    All this is coloured by the 1920s era which Greenwood has got off pat. It's a bit like a sex-ed up Dorothy L Sayers and as such Greenwood has carved out a niche all her own. There are twenty Phryne Fisher novels, and they make a great stand-by rainy day read as they never disappoint. Her bio on Fantastic Fiction is, by the way, the best I've come across.