Our Fiction Book of the Month: "All the Light We Cannot See"

Our book of the month, "All the Light We Cannot See" by Anthony Doerr, has already created quite a stir in the U.S.. The Washington Post described it as: "I’m not sure I will read a better novel this year than Anthony ­Doerr’s 'All the Light We Cannot See'. Enthrallingly told, beautifully written and so emotionally plangent that some passages bring tears, it is completely unsentimental — no mean trick when you consider that Doerr’s two protagonists are children who have been engulfed in the horror of World War II."

The Boston Globe equally enthuses, and the L.A. Times loves that "Doerr's novel is ambitious and majestic without bluntness or overdependence on heartbreak — which is not to say it won't jerk those tears right out of your head."

On this side of the pond, reactions have been similar: The Guardian states that "this novel will be a piece of luck for anyone with a long plane journey or beach holiday ahead. It is such a page-turner, entirely absorbing".

There's good reason we heart it so much, see?

If you're still unsure, don't fret: read the opening chapter here or pop in the shop to have a gander.

Toodles,

 

Patty :)

Jessie Burton's The Miniaturist

They do say not to judge a book by its cover, but in this case we can make an exception. The cover is definitely an eyecatcher. And the pages between are just as stunning. The story is mysterious, bordering on eerie. The characters not what you expect, after the first glimpse they become as intricate and in their own way intriguing and beautiful as the cover that cloaks them. 

I won’t give any of the story away other than that a young woman arrives in Amsterdam of the 1600s, newly married to a rich merchant, to move into his grand house, only to be greeted in a cold, if not hostile manner by his haughty, austere sister and some quite lippy servants. No trace to begin with of the husband, who, even after an eventual arrival, extends no more interest in his new bride than a polite handshake. The young woman is justifiably befuddled and disillusioned – it’s not what she imagined her marriage to start like. And then her husband buys her this elaborate, extremely expensive dollhouse, which is a carbon copy of the house she’s just moved into.  The young woman doesn’t know what to make of any of it. And things get stranger yet. Arguments in the household she cannot make sense of. Odd glances thrown, but nothing explained. And when she hires a miniaturist to help her furnish her dollhouse, she starts receiving odd presents with mysterious messages attached... and the dollhouse starts influencing her life in an uncanny way she can make as little heads or tail of as the rest of her new environment.

What really makes this book in the first place is its almost tangible atmosphere. You are transported to a historical Amsterdam that glitters in frost and the mysteries woven through its fabric, you inhabit the characters like your own skin. And do I sound silly when I say it *feels* Dutch? I’m a sucker for being transported to places in my mind and given a taste of their essence, and this a Ben and Jerry’s of a sampler. For a debut, it’s absolutely mindblowing. It’s a stunning movie for the mind and the senses. It was our book of the month for good reason, and just for its beauty it’s worth buying the hardback, because ... well, because as a paperback or even e-book, it will just feel like having Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker on a shredded old tape. I got a netgalley proof, and I’m buying the hardcover, baby. 

Toodles,

Patty

Karen Maitland's "The Vanishing Witch"

Ever since Ken Follett’s Pillars of the Earth, I’ve been HOOKED on historical fiction – the more medieval, the better. Characters, for me, cannot be covered in enough sh*t, living in hovels, plagued bysuperstition and a wee bit of pestilence. Sure, there are Philippa Gregory’s various novels (and various other authors), awesomely  describing life at court, the power battles and intrigues. Thoroughly enjoy those! But my favourites are still those novels with a wide range of characters, telling tales of all walks of life of that age. Some friends of mine and I had a dorky little Pillars of the Earth fanclub... and one day one of them told me to read Karen Maitland. It took me a while to take up that recommendation, but I have never regretted it. Maitland is INCREDIBLY readable. You break through the barrier with ease and full on dive into the dark ages... and what makes her so brilliant is that her stories always border on the magical, without ever becoming fully fledged fantasy. The magical element in her books is rather born out of the superstitions of the characters. You become so immersed in that world that you cannot tell anymore what is simple trickery and what is magic, or whether there is magic at all. Much like a medieval person must have felt like, the boundaries between simply not knowing things and actual exposure to magic are blurry. It’s a world with an intriguing but completely different mindset, with different hardships and values, yet entirely relatable as a human experience. Her previous works, such as “Company of Liars” and “The Owl Killers” were absolutely stunning, and “The Vanishing Witch” easily keeps up with them. While I won’t ruin the fun and give the story away, rest assured that nothing in it is as it seems, and it’s often not easy to tell who you can trust. It leaves you feeling vulnerable, tense, thrilled yet enchanted. I absolutely adored it.

Your repressed citizen,

Patty

Our Fiction Book of the Month for July

Our Fiction Book of the Month for July, The Miniaturist by Jessie Burton, is not just a feast for the old peepers. Of course, I was instantly charmed by the intricate vintage-y dollhouse cover art (and surely not just I have been guilty of obtaining a book just for its outer beauty?)... and not just I. Check out this incredible piece of chalk art created by Jess from Waterstones BishopsStortford.

(I totally would try that with our A-board, too, but whenever I do, the creatures in the picture just whimper "Kill meeeee!" But one digresses...)

            


Or this incredible display done by Waterstones Nottingham (yeah, cheers for showing us all up, Notts ;)!)

                            

But this book is nothing short of a beaut on the inside, as well. Read the first few pages of the book here.

See? Told ya.

Burton's little masterpiece has been compared to "Girl with a Pearl Earring", "The Goldfinch" and the writings of Sarah Waters. But regardless whether you like those three, give it a shot. We do heart it.

Charmed,

 

Patty

Our Non-Fiction Book of the Month for July

A contemporary of Queen Victoria, Dowager Empress Cixi has been compared to Lucrezia Borgia in her ruthlessness.

Jung Chang, author of the much beloved "Wild Swans", presents us with a fascinating portrait of a strong but controversial character.

Read the Guardian review here and the Telegraph review here.

There is also a great blog interview with Chang on our website.


P.S. If you enjoy this, or the subject of women in China in general, do not miss this gem: "The Good Women of China", a stunner written by journalist Xinran.

Don't miss our Children's Book of the Month for July!

Review: The Rain by Virginia Bergin

There is little as sinister as the very basis of our lives becoming life-threatening to us. Always having watched apocalyptic movies and reading books on the subject, it wasn't even the idea of something toxic that freaked me out so much, it was the idea that something as basic as air and water could make our very own habitat our enemy.

Rain, probably the epitome of nourishment, becoming poison is just too much for my head. Yeah yeah, Hunger Games, Battle Royale... that mankind can be a source of evil doesn't really come as a surprise anymore. But forces of nature that get us off our high horse of evolutionary advancement – I can't help but equally worship and be terrorised by them.

Years ago I wrote an apocalyptic short story about poison rain. And bang, here is a book that deals with that very subject.

The premise is that a meteor trojan-horses a bacterium from outer space into our atmosphere, which, when in contact with water, multiplies like crazy. And it really loves to feast on people.

The story starts with young Ruby being at a party, making out with a guy in a jacuzzi, when rain clouds gather – and a hysterical parent ushers them inside. Not knowing what is happening, her heart throb sneaks back outside to gather his belongings, only to stumble back in, screaming, scratching his face to shreds. And Miss Ruby suddenly, confused and clueless as to what's going on, other than the scraps of news she hears about “staying out of the rain”, finds herself in a world collapsing. She gets a lift home, only to be quarantined by her parents, and watching the neighbour die a horrible death on her doorstep.

And her mundane life of friends, mobile phones and shopping becomes one of thirst, death and survival, where even tap water is the enemy, or anything contaminated with the new poison rain.

Neighbours become enemies fighting like animals over the last bottles of drinkable fluids.

All in all a pretty nail-biting read.

There is just one gripe I have with it.

I hated Ruby. From the start. She is a spoilt, whiny, sullen teenage princess, whose persistent English version of the valley girl talk (“Oh my gawd, my Dad is such a loser!”) totally, ohmygod, drove me up the fricken wall. There is a key scene when her Dad is asking her to pay attention to some life-saving information he wants to pass on, and she just sits there moping about having left her mobile phone at her friend's house. You just want to slap her around! All she seems to worry about is make-up, fashion, boys, even AFTER THE FRICKEN APOCALYPSE. I mean, that's what SHE LOOTS!

I understand the author wanted to perhaps create 'that' character kids can identify with, but if the general teenage populace is really that airheaded and mopey, I don't want to live on this planet anymore! She is a high school bully who complains that the guy trying to save her life is the pimply nerdy guy.

I give her that, she does develop over the course of the story into someone not as annoying, but the improvement is not great. It is hard to love a story – and don't get me wrong, the book itself is amazing! - where the main character is the shallow brat that one can barely stand to be around for five minutes in real life, much less read about in a book for days.

So here's my verdict. It's a fantastic, gripping tale. Well-written in general, but I had to grit my teeth through Princess Mopey's valley talk and make-up sampling, to give the book credit where credit is due. Part of me wants to think I have just outgrown teenage books, but the truth is, I love them! I have enjoyed the Gone series, The Maze Runner series, The Enemy series, all of which managed to give teens some credit for brains and being able to act like someone not as tedious as Ruby. Teenage literature doesn't necessarily need cliché teenage characters to hit the target market. And creating an unlikeable protagonist is bound to backfire. Luckily this book just had enough other good features to redeem itself.

Yours, infectedly,

Patty