The Wheel of Darkness by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child

Date of Publication: 2007, Warner Books

Number of Pages: 385

Synopsis:

“FBI Special Agent Pendergast is taking a break from work to take Constance on a whirlwind Grand Tour, hoping to give her closure and a sense of the world that she’s missed. They head to Tibet, where Pendergast intensively trained in martial arts and spiritual studies. At a remote monastery, they learn that a rare and dangerous artifact the monks have been guarding for generations has been mysteriously stolen. As a favor, Pendergast agrees to track and recover the relic. A twisting trail of bloodshed leads Pendergast and Constance to the maiden voyage of the Britannia, the world’s largest and most luxurious ocean liner—and to an Atlantic crossing fraught with terror. ” ~from Amazon.com

Review:

I had been eagerly anticipating this book all year, since I read the last book in the Agent Pendergast series, The Book of the Dead. Although this is obviously not a continuation of the Diogenes trilogy, there are some signs that Diogenes’s evil legacy is alive and well, especially in the fragile character of Constance Greene. She keeps her secret until the very last page of the book, which leaves a very welcome opportunity for another sequel. This book is different from many in this series, as it does not take place in New York City, so many of the regular characters are missing. But, like Still Life With Crows, it remains very much connected to the overall story of Agent Pendergast and stands very well on its own. There is also a further exploration of the mind-bending meditation practices that Pendergast uses, and it becomes the central theme of this book: when you leave your mind open, what evil is allowed to enter? And once it’s there, how can you conquer it?

In the “basics”, this book has intriguing characters, some of whom I hope to see in future novels, and a climax that kept me riveted to each page. The setting on board the Britannia is wonderful and gives an eerie sense of how isolated the characters are. The Wheel of Darkness reads quickly (I read it in two days), which is a shame, because it’s one story you wish would just go on and on. There are many surprises in store, even for readers experiencing the partnership of Preston and Child for the first time. For long-time fans, like myself, this books was a superb introduction to life after Diogenes. The only thing left to do now is wait impatiently for the next one!

Rating: 10/10

Reviewed by Sarah

The House at Riverton by Kate Morton

 

 

From the back of the book:

Summer 1924

On the eve of a glittering Society party, by the lake of a grand English country house, a young poet takes his life. The only witnesses, sisters Hannah and Emmeline Hartford, will never speak to each other again.

Winter 1999

Grace Bradley, 98, one-time housemaid of Riverton Manor, is visited by a young director making a film about the poet’s suicide. Ghosts awaken and memories, long-consigned to the dark reaches of Grace’s mind, begin to sneak back through the cracks. A shocking secret threatens to emerge; something history has forgotten but Grace never could.

Set as the war-shattered Edwardian summer surrenders to the decadent twenties, The House at Riverton is a thrilling mystery and a compelling love story.

This is a Richard and Judy book, although I didn’t realise when I bought it. I was drawn to it by its cover as I’ve not heard of Kate Morton before, which is hardly surprising as this is her debut novel

It tells the story of Hannah and Emmeline, two girls from a privileged background, and of a young housemaid at Riverton, Grace.

The story is told by Grace by use of flashbacks and these flashbacks are very neatly integrated into the story so you don’t even consciously notice it switching from present to past as it does it seamlessly.

The characters are very well written, and the author has researched life in a big house with many servants and writes convincingly. She references some of the books/TV programmes that inspired her in the back of the book. I was quite surprised to read that she is actually Australian – she obviously has a keen interest in UK history.

The story drew me in very quickly and kept me wanting to know more. The event at the party in summer 1924, mentioned in the ‘blurb’ doesn’t happen until very near the end of the book, and it kept me guessing right up to its conclusion.

All in all, it was a great story. I must confess to shedding a few tears towards the end!

I gave it 8½ out of 10

Reviewed by Janet

In the Blood – Andrew Motion

PUBLISHERS SUMMARY:

For most people childhood ends slowly, so nobody can see where one part of life finishes and the next bit starts. But my childhood has ended suddenly. In a day.

In the Blood is Andrew Motion’s beautifully delivered memoir of growing-up in post-war England — an unforgettable evocation of family life, school life, and country life. It also tells the story of how these worlds were shattered when Motion’s mother suffered a terrible riding accident. The tragedy shadows the book, feeding its mood of elegy as well as its celebratory vigilance. Told from a teenage child’s point of view, without the benefit of hindsight, Motion captures the pathos and puzzlement of childhood with great clarity of expression and freshness of memory. We encounter a strange but beguiling extended family, a profound love of the natural world, and a growing passion for books and writing.  

 

This book, on the whole was a disappointment. I am not sure why. Perhaps it was because of Motion’s status as a poet, that I expected more. Perhaps it was to do with how I perceived the advertising literature. I can’t say. However, I felt that although the book was based on a major event, Motion’s mother’s riding accident, it never went anywhere. It felt static. Motion grew up in a middle class, Home Counties country environment. There seemed to be nothing particularly odd or different about his upbringing…I suspect many will recognise his descriptions of hunting, and boarding school etc. Equally many will have no experience of these things themselves, but will be familiar with them from numerous other writings on such topics. His detail is well written and poetically descriptive, as you would expect, yet somehow boring, and I wondered what his point was. Why did he feel the need to write about his childhood in such poignant detail? Was it because of his mother’s accident, or in spite of…some sort of justification for the tragedy which was her life. Was he trying to convince himself that he had been the model son, despite the events which shaped his growing years?

He felt that his life changed overnight, and childhood ended abruptly. This obviously marked him, even traumatised him. He seemed not to be able to cope as well as his younger brother, who seemed to be philosophical about everything. I was not sure about the reasons for this. His relationship with his mother seemed ambivalent to me, though I could never fathom why. They seemed to become closer as he grew older and confided in her, telling her about his desire to write, but even then, I felt a coldness between them. When the book ends we don’t know what happened to Mrs Motion. Did she live or die? How did Andrew feel about her in the years after the accident?

There seemed for me, to be more questions at the end of the book, than had been answered during it, which surprised me. I was frustrated because of the lack of direction. Why was he telling us this story? Had he learned anything from it? I felt that in reality, he had not divulged all, either to his readers or himself, and this felt like a very loose end. Even though it was written from the perspective of a confused teenager, it didn’t work for me.

Strangely though, the book stayed with me for days after I had read it, and again there was nothing I could pinpoint or refer to particularly, but just a vague feeling of it not being finished…and I wanted a conclusion. I didn’t feel as if I had got to know the real Andrew Motion at all.

Overall a disappointment, but I do not regret reading it, as I believe there is food for thought there, which will be useful when reading his other works.

Susie. 

The Awakening by Kate Chopin

Date of Publication: 1899Number of Pages: 106

Synopsis:

The Awakening begins at a crisis point in twenty-eight year-old Edna Pontellier’s life. Edna is a passionate and artistic woman who finds few acceptable outlets for her desires in her role as wife and mother of two sons living in conventional Creole society. Unlike the married women around her, whose sensuality seems to flow naturally into maternity, Edna finds herself wanting her own emotional and sexual identity. During one summer while her husband is out of town, her frustrations find an outlet in an affair with a younger man. Energized and filled with a desire to define her own life, she sends her children to the country and removes herself to a small house of her own: “Every step she took toward relieving herself from obligations added to her strength and expansion as an individual. She began to look with her own eyes; to see and apprehend the deeper undercurrents of life. No longer was she content to ‘feed upon the opinion’ when her own soul had invited her.” Her triumph is short-lived, however, destroyed by a society that has no place for a self-determined, unattached woman. Her story is a tragedy and one of many clarion calls in its day to examine the institution of marriage and woman’s opportunities in an oppressive world.” ~By Erica Bauermeister

Review:

Although this book starts of rather slow, it soon becomes riveting as the characters become more developed. As I became acquainted with Edna and the awakening she goes through, I found that I could identify with her on a deeply personal level. Many of us have felt that we are living our lives in a false way, as if we have put up a facade to show to the world. Edna desperately wants to be free of her loveless marriage, but even the man with whom she is in love, and who loves her, will not permit her to break her vows to her husband; she belongs to him. To a modern reader, the story is even more of a tragedy, as her unhappiness seems needless.

This is a short novel, but doesn’t suffer from it’s length, or lack thereof. There are several fascinating characters, besides Edna and her lover, Robert. There is also the alluring setting of 1890′s New Orleans and its Creole community. The Awakening is a terrific example of an early feminist work, and provides a tragic example of the consequences of the foolish “proprieties” demanded by society.

Rating: 8.5/10 stars

Reviewed by Sarah

The Killings at Badger’s Drift by Caroline Graham

Date of Publication: 1987, Felony and MayhemNo. of pages: 272

Synopsis (blurb from back cover):

Badger’s Drift is the ideal English village, complete with vicar, bumbling local doctor, and kindly spinster with a nice line in homemade cookies. But when the spinster dies suddenly, her best friend kicks up an unseemly fuss, loud enough to attract the attention of Detective Chief Inspector Tom Barnaby. And when Barnaby and his eager-beaver deputy start poking around, they uncover a swamp of ugly scandals and long-suppressed resentments seething below the picture-postcard prettiness.

Review:

This book is the first in the Inspector Barnaby mystery series, which is the basis for the popular TV show, Midsomer Murders (which happens to be my favorite show). I was so excited to read this book, but ultimately I was disappointed. It could simply be because I know the characters from TV so well, but I didn’t feel that these characters were very well-developed. In terms of the mystery factor, this book is full of suspense and the murders are just gory enough to be believable. The many suspects are enjoyably colorful, and I loved the portrayal of the sweet little village with its many secrets. But many of the details felt glossed over, and the dialog was very messy in some places (it’s hard to tell who is speaking). But despite these faults, I enjoyed the story for what it was, and I’m even willing to try the next book in the series.

Rating: 7/10

Reviewed by Sarah

The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai

Hardcover: 336 pages
Publisher: Hamish Hamilton Ltd (31 Aug 2006)
Language English
ISBN-10: 0241143489
ISBN-13: 978-0241143483

From the back cover:

At the foot of Mount Kanchenjunga in the Himalayas, lives an embittered old judge who wants nothing more than to retire in peace. But with the arrival of his orphaned granddaughter, Sai, and his cook’s son trying to stay a step ahead of US immigration services, this is far from easy. When a Nepalese insurgency threatens Sai’s blossoming romance with her handsome tutor they are forced to consider their colliding interests. The judge must revisit his past, his own journey and his role in this grasping world of conflicting desires every moment holding out the possibility for hope or betrayal.

This year’s Booker Prize winner is an astonishingly beautiful novel: I really can’t think of another novel that I’ve read that is so poetic. The nearest example I can think of is the novella/long poem Our Sister Killjoy by Ama Ata Aidoo, which – coincidentally – is also partly about ‘the native abroad’ and attitudes towards Westernisation.

It did take me a while to really get under its skin, as the language is so rich and there isn’t an obvious plot to speak of (more like several narratives drifting and developing throughout). I left reading it for a day and that seemed to give me time to mentally digest the various narratives and let the language seep in: I ended up finishing the vast majority of the novel in day!

I found it to be a very thought-provoking read, especially with regards to feeling different within and outside of India, its diverse communities and views about the perceived Westernisation of its younger generations. This is a book I should certainly make the effort to revisit in the future.

8/10

Reviewed by Amy Rushton

The Crimson Petal and the White by Michel Faber

Paperback: 894 pages Publisher: Canongate Books Ltd
Language English
ISBN-10: 1841954314
ISBN-13: 978-1841954318

From Amazon.co.uk:
Although it’s billed as “the first great 19th-century novel of the 21st century,” The Crimson Petal and the White is anything but Victorian. It’s the story of a well-read London prostitute named Sugar, who spends her free hours composing a violent, pornographic screed against men. Michel Faber’s dazzling second novel dares to go where George Eliot’s The Mill on the Floss and the works of Charles Dickens could not. We learn about the positions and orifices that Sugar and her clients favour, about her lingering skin condition, and about the suspect ingredients of her prophylactic douches. Still, Sugar believes she can make a better life for herself.
When she is taken up by a wealthy man, the perfumer William Rackham, her wings are clipped and she must balance financial security against the obvious servitude of her position. The physical risks and hardships of Sugar’s life (and the even harder “honest” life she would have led as a factory worker) contrast–yet not entirely–with the medical mistreatment of her benefactor’s wife, Agnes, and beautifully underscore Faber’s emphasis on class and sexual politics. In theme and treatment, this is a novel that Virginia Woolf might have written, had she been born 70 years later. The language, however, is Faber’s own–brisk and elastic–and, after an awkward opening, the plethora of detail he offers (costume, food, manners, cheap stage performances, the London streets) slides effortlessly into his forward-moving sentences.
Despite its 800-plus pages, The Crimson Petal and the White turns out to be a quick read, since it is truly impossible to put down.

* * *
From the back of the book:
Gripping from the first page, this immense novel is an intoxicating and deeply satisfying read. Faber’s most ambitious fictional creation yet, it is sure to affirm his position as one of the most talented and brilliant writers working in the UK. Sugar, an alluring, nineteen-year-old whore in the brothel of the terrifying Mrs Castaway, yearns for a better life. Her ascent through the strata of 1870′s London society offers us intimacy with a host of loveable, maddening and superbly realised characters. At the heart of this panoramic, multi-layered narrative is the compelling struggle of a young woman to lift her body and soul out of the gutter. The Crimson Petal and the White is a big, juicy, must-read of a novel that will delight, enthral, provoke and entertain young and old, male and female.

If I had but one word to review this whole novel then it would simply be: WOW.

Where to begin? For starters I can’t remember reading an opening quite as striking as Crimson Petal‘s is, and this high performing beginning is maintained throughout.

It’s like all the best-known Victorian-era literature that we love, but with all the dirty, depraved and downright scandalous bits left in. Yet it is all so beautifully written. Faber is an extraordinary writer: the meticulous details he includes really heighten the sense of ‘being in the story’ and are exquisite to read. It is an incredibly readable novel and extremely funny and bawdy. It is also (frequently) incredibly graphic at moments (especially as part of it is set in a brothel: ever wondered about pre-twentieth century birth control? Read this!). In fact, my eyes nearly popped out a couple of times towards the end of the first segment of the novel! But it’s all part of the narrative and provides us with a glimpse of what Victorian writers couldn’t publish in their own works. An especially delicious element of The Crimson Petal, for me, is that Faber imbues his narrative voice with a Thackeray-like narrative persona, which adds to the humorous and, well, often bitchy tone. When I put it down for the day, I couldn’t wait to get back to reading it. It really is true what the reviews said: at 835 pages long, it does feel too short!

I was utterly bereft when I finished it. The characters are so sharply drawn that I really miss them now they are out of my life.

Definitely 10/10… and I would give it more if I could!!

Reviewed by Amy Rushton

Additional Note: Michel Faber has written a ‘follow up’ collection of Crimson Petal inspired short stories, entitled The Apple (also published by Canongate; ISBN-10 1841959804, ISBN-13 978-1841959801)

Caleb Williams by William Godwin

Date of Publication: 1794, Penguin Classics

Synopsis:
“When young Caleb Williams comes to work as a secretary for Squire Falkland, he soon begins to suspect that his master is hiding a terrible secret. His unearthing of the guilty truth proves calamitous when – despite Caleb loyally swearing never to reveal his discovery – the Squire enacts a cruel revenge. A tale of gripping suspense and psychological power, William Godwin’s novel creates a searing depiction of the intolerable persecution meted out to a good man in pursuit of justice and equality. Written to expose the political oppression and corrupt hierarchies its author saw in the world around him, Caleb Williams embodies a radical appeal to end the abuses of power while simultaneously exploring the complexities of that endeavor.” -Blurb from back cover

Review:
This is another of my text books, and one I found almost impossible to finish. Don’t get me wrong, the tale itself is exceedingly compelling. I guess I should try to explain my feelings about this book, which were powerful. Maybe it comes from being an American, and a liberal one at that, or maybe it’s in my blood, as my mother says, but I have an over-developed sense of justice, or right and wrong. I cannot tolerate the idea of one person abusing their power to oppress another person. The very thing sickens me to an alarming extent. While reading about the outrageous persecution of poor Caleb, and the willful blindness of the people around him, I actually had a strong desire to punch the book, to literally punch it. I wept with frustration as I witnessed the injustices that the poor young man was made to suffer, and I almost gave up on it completely (while risking a bad grade in my English Romantic Literature class) because I felt that it was ruining my peace of mind.

In terms of the basics, this book has well-developed characters, evocative settings, and the story reads at a furious pace. Many people have reacted in a similar way to this book, and I believe that is the intention of its author. Godwin wanted people to react to this book because he wanted to change the statusquo . Although this book upset me greatly, I have to allow that it did its job. I believe this book is valuable, not only as a piece of great literature, but also as a reminder of the inequalities that still exist in our society today, and of what millions of people suffered at the hands of everyday tyrants not that long ago.

Rating: 9/10 stars

Reviewed by Sarah

Animal Farm by George Orwell

Date of Publication: 1946

Synopsis:
“When the downtrodden beasts of Manor Farm oust their drunken human master and take over management of the land, all are awash in collectivist zeal. Everyone willingly works overtime, productivity soars, and for one brief, glorious season, every belly is full. The animals’ Seven Commandment credo is painted in big white letters on the barn. All animals are equal. No animal shall drink alcohol, wear clothes, sleep in a bed, or kill a fellow four-footed creature. Those that go upon four legs or wings are friends and the two-legged are, by definition, the enemy. Too soon, however, the pigs, who have styled themselves leaders by virtue of their intelligence, succumb to the temptations of privilege and power. ‘We pigs are brainworkers. The whole management and organisation of the farm depend on us. Day and night, we are watching over your welfare. It is for your sake that we drink that milk and eat those apples.’ While this swinish brotherhood sells out the revolution, cynically editing the Seven Commandments to excuse their violence and greed, the common animals are once again left hungry and exhausted, no better off than in the days when humans ran the farm. Satire Animal Farm may be, but it’s a stony reader who remains unmoved when the stalwart workhorse, Boxer, having given his all to his comrades, is sold to the glue factory to buy booze for the pigs. Orwell’s view of Communism is bleak indeed, but given the history of the Russian people since 1917, his pessimism has an air of prophecy.” -Joyce Thompson

Review (may contain spoilers):
I picked this book up last night, and read it in one sitting. It was obvious that the story was a satire of Communism (all the animals call each other “Comrade”), and at times it was very funny in its ridiculousness. But there was a disturbing grain of truth throughout the book which can make the reader uncomfortable. Here is a revolution that starts from a common spirit of cooperation and a desire to make things better for the whole group. But when one group takes control, and uses lies and intimidation, or even murder, to keep that control, one is reminded sharply of oppressive governments around the world that are very real. The ending was definitely a slap in the face: as the “common” animals look on, they find that they cannot tell the difference between their pig leaders, who now go on two legs, and the evil humans they had overthrown. This story is incredibly funny, sad, and scary all at the same time, and it amazes me that Orwell had the foresight to write it back in 1946, just after the Iron Curtain had fallen.

Ratings: 10/10
Reviewed by Sarah

Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte

Date of Publication: 1847

Synopsis:
“Drawing on her own experiences, Anne Bronte wrote her first novel out of an urgent need to inform her contemporaries about the desperate position of unmarried, educated women driven to take up the only ‘respectable’ career open to them – that of a governess. Struggling with the monstrous Bloomfield children and then disdained in the superior Murray household, Agnes tells a story that is at once a compelling inside view of Victorian chauvinism and ruthless materialism and, according to George Moore, ‘the most perfect prose narrative in English literature.’”

Review:
I’d been wanting to read this book for several years, and when I finally did, I was not disappointed. Although I found the book somewhat preachy at times (Agnes is the daughter of a clergyman, and the hero is a curate), I still felt that the character of Agnes was compelling. The behavior of the Bloomfield children is disturbing in its mindless cruelty, and Agnes’s perseverance in trying to bring about a change is admirable, if only a little bit pathetic. It is obvious that this is a very true to life account of what many governesses went through in Victorian England, being disdained by family and servants alike, having no real place in the household, and being forced to contend with spoiled and unruly children. Readers who have enjoyed Jane Eyre should love this book, and they will find comforting similarities between Agnes and Jane.

Rating: 10/10
Reviewed by Sarah