The Wood at Midwinter - Susanna Clarke

This is a very pretty book but it has - not exactly annoyed me, but it's not to my mind pretty enough to warrant the £9.99 price tag, and there isn't enough story to justify it either. It is not a good sign when an explanation of what you've just read takes almost as long as the story it explains, non of which is a reflection on Clarke's writing which is as perfectly crafted as ever. 

Victoria Sawdon's illustrations are charming enough but you'd have to like them a lot more than I do to buy the book for them (my copy is a review one from Bloomsbury, which I'll pass on to a hopefully more enthusiastic colleague). I liked 'Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell' but (ironically given how short this is) thought it was over long - The Woods at Midwinter is imagined in the same world, it is very much for fans of both Clarke and 'Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell'. 

This would have worked beautifully as an add on in an exclusive edition, and as it stands will probably find itself in any number of Christmas stockings (or equivalent, we're a stocking family for this kind of thing), there will be people who love it, are entranced by the images, and feel very happy with their purchase, but I'm in a full on Scrooge mood with this one to the point that I've deleted several mean spirited sentences, but in the end I can't even bring myself to really be down on the publisher for producing it. What I do know is that it's bothered me enough to write this to get it off my chest.

The Kings's Bride - E.T.A. Hoffmann

How do you catagorise E.T.A Hoffman? Romantic, surreal, magical realism, gothic, horror? I'm not really sure, I think he's mostly files under fiction which tells the reader nothing. Perhaps influential is the word that really sums him up - a writer who's work and imagination still permeates popular culture but there's a good chance you've never heard of (I think anyone reading this will have heard of him, but we're a select group).

The King's Bride is at the lighter end of Hoffmann's output - mostly a comedy with some excellent jokes and only a few horrifying moments. Anna is happily engaged to her neighbours son, Amandus, currently at university and fancying himself a poet whilst she remains at home and concerns herself with the kitchen garden. Her father, something of a philosopher, astronomist, and astrologer, spends his days studying the sciences from the comfort of his tower. 

One day Anna discovers a gold ring on a carrot in her garden, puts it on and finds herself engaged to Corduanspitz - a gnome, or possibly the king of carrots, which is a much worse thing to be than a gnome. Anna is at first horrified, and then reconciled as she's led to believe she will reign over the finest vegetable garden in the world, and then horrified again as she realises she's being changed into something more like her prospective husband. Will Amandus forget his poetry for long enough to save the day and his true love? Will her father maybe manage it instead? Or will Corduanspitz win out and carry Anna away, and what of his feud with the radishes?

In the spirit of any romance worth the name there's a happy outcome for Anna, and plenty of amusement for the reader - the portrait of Amandus as an undergraduate over confident in his own abilities as a poet is an absolute treat, and there's more than enough unease behind the comedy to make things interesting. 

This translation is part of Alma Classics 101 page classics series - a genius concept. It's not so much that my concentration is shot for long books (it is slightly) but that middle age has tired me out. I don't currently have the energy to read as much as I'd like to, or the time (because I fall asleep). Novellas are satisfying, they're also a fabulous way to test the waters before investing in a major work by a classic novelist, or as the season closes in on us, a really good small gift for Christmas.

The Great Tapestry of Scotland

I've been in Scotland for a couple of days seeing family which has been lovely, something we did on Tuesday was go and see The Great Tapestry of Scotland in Galasheils. I remember this project in progress (vaguely) and just as vaguely remembered that it had ended up in the Borders but had never thought to go and see it. My stepmother and father had tried a couple of times but it had always been closed - it's currently not open on Sundays or Mondays - which feels a bit odd, but very Borders - there's a few visitor attractions not open on weekends - but if ever a thing had Sunday trip out written all over it, it's surely this. The moral of this story is definitely to check opening times before setting off, which I did.

Entry is £10.50 each for adults, or £25 for a season ticket. The day ticket is for the whole day and you can come and go as much as you please in that time. Both the woman at the ticket desk and the attendant in the gallery recommended taking a break for coffee and a walk - it's good advice because there's an overwhelming amount of detail to pick through and one visit isn't enough. Taking a break and going back for a last look before car parking ran out revealed lots of things I'd missed first time around. 

The tapestry itself is a remarkable thing - about 143 metres of panels illustrating episodes from Scottish history and culture. It was finished in 2013 at the height of the referendum debate and definitely captures something of the mood and pride in that moment. The original idea came from Alexander McCall Smith,  Alistair Moffat formed the narrative it would take, and  Andrew Crummy designed the panels. Over a 1000 people were involved in the embroidering in groups the length and breadth of the country - mostly women. Each panel took around 500 hours to create. 

It's an incredible project. There are things which would not look the same if it was designed now - at least I hope the panels that touch on colonialism would be different, and that the interpretive material that goes with them would be very different, but as a reflection of how we thought even 12 years ago it's a fair representation. 

What is remarkable, and the thing I found most powerful about the tapestry was the sense of time, craft, and effort that went into making it. The makers could choose the stitches they used and there's space on each panel for personalisation. All the makers are named under each panel. It's an awe inspiring achievement, stunning bit of craft and collaboration, and a really impressive bit of art. I found it genuinely moving and at times almost overwhelmingly emotional to look at.

The Borders railway stops very close to the gallery, so it's easily accessible from Edinburgh even without a car. There's also good cheap parking. I love that this is in Galashiels where it's a centerpiece to the town and reflects back something of the area's textile history, and not just another thing to see in Edinburgh or Glasgow too. Definitely make time for this if you're anywhere in the area.

Your Guide To Not Getting Murdered in a Quaint English Village - Maureen Johnson and Jay Cooper

Happy Diwali and Halloween to anyone celebrating either - fireworks are in full swing in Leicester, where I expect them to be going off into the small hours. My Halloween celebration was going to a Bloomsbury Raven showcase in the Gothic bar at the Saint Pancras hotel last night - it's a beautiful venue that I've  never had an excuse to go into before and never quite wanted to go into alone.

One of the books in my goody bag was Your Guide To Not Getting Murdered in a Quaint English Village and it seemed as good a way to pass the train journey home as any, and so it proved to be. It's not an easy book to define - a small humourous hardback that you can easily read in half an hour or so - the illustrations lift it into something more, but it's basically a stocking filler destined to live by a toilet (do people still have toilet books? They were kind of a feature of my childhood, lots of houses had them, but it feels like a vaguely unhygienic concept now).

Still, if you enjoy an Agatha Christie adaptation or have watched more than 2 episodes of Midsummer Murders this will make you laugh, it's family friendly and the illustrations keep the jokes fresh with details repeated readings/viewings will keep on revealing. It's a nicely silly Halloween read too so although there's not much to say about it, I'd still recommend this as one of the better quality examples of the genre and a bit of fun if you find yourself in a murderous mood. 

Rivals

This week has flown by in a blur of still having the same cold (or maybe it's a new one) and work being full on. I am very much in need of a holiday, and happily one is not far away. Meanwhile the clocks going back - always my favourite day of the year, it's the one where the day actually feels long enough for a change and I don't feel like I'm running to stand still.

I've celabrated this by making a batch of quince jelly, this years mincemeat, and mixing up a bottle of mixed spice - all things that make me happy. I've also watched the last episode of Jilly Cooper's Rivals. It's almost a decade since I last tried reading a Cooper - I hated Jump and couldn;t actually finish it. In the interveneing years I even got rid of my once beloved copy of Riders, I can't imagine I could stomach that now either. But I've loved watching Rivals, it's fabulous television. 

In my late teens/early adult days Cooper was a guilty pleasure who I genuinley beleaved captured something vital about the late 70s and 1980s. She was also the sort of writer that an earnest young woman felt the need to defend herself for reading back in the day. I think if I re read those books now I'd still think they reflected something of the time they were written, but probably not things I want to remember. 

The genius of the tv series has been to present itself as a period drama, capture the brash optomism and glamour of the era for the well to do, and absolutly ignore all the hardship of the time - because these books were always about escapism. The casting has also been genius, Alex Hassel as Rupert Campbell-Black absolutly has the neccesary charisma for the role and is much more convincing than previous actors who have attempted the role, but there are so many brilliant turns in this, especially from the women.

Which is another thing this adaptation gets right, the female characters here might not get the lines, they don't in the books either, but whilst the men get to chew scenery with gusto, those women are bringing the depth to the story (in amongst all the bonking). The attention to detail is also phenomanal, along with all the small jokes and references - right up to the cliffhangers it ends with - please let there be another series.

I couldn't honestly recommend reading Jilly Cooper now, but absolutly watch this to get the sense of what made her books beloved in the first place. 

Charity Girl - Georgette Heyer #1970Club

I hadn't given the 1970 club much thought - works been busy and the commitments are stacking up, but mid week I had an idle look to see if Heyer had published anything - I knew it was towards the end of her life. 

She had, Charity Girl, though initially, I started reading Lady of Quality (1972) because I mixed them up. The later books are not Heyer's best, but having waded through Charity Girl I'm wondering if it's the worst book she ever wrote? There would certainly be an argument for it.

The faults are many - too much slang, endlessly repetitive, main characters who are essentially unappealing, and spend so little time on the page together that there's no sense of chemistry, a plot that doesn't make a great deal of sense, not much happens, and a complete lack of the humour that I associate with Heyer. She was elderly at this point, and not enjoying the best of health, and maybe that's why this one is such a stinker.

There are a couple of redeeming features - as Heyer gets older her heroines move out of their teens or very early 20s into their mid 20s and their are no more heros decades older than the lady. In this book there's a lot of discussion about a perfectly pleasant young woman - the charity girl of the title - who finds herself in a household of bullies. She runs away with the hope of finding a home with her grandfather, gets taken up by the hero who has briefly met her, and then deposited for safe keeping with his best friend and eventual love interest. But 1970 seems late for a discussion of how limited women's prospects were outside of marriage and as it goes, Cherry has found friends and we never feel like she won't be alright. 

Otherwise the characters are all well worn versions from previous books, and something that might have worked as a novella or a short story is dragged out to a tedious length. There's also an unpleasant kind of snobbishness running through the narrative about Cherry - her family is fairly awful, but that's not her fault, and frequent discussion about how it would be a disgrace to marry her and something the hero would never lower himself to do grates a little.

I'm not sorry I read it, apart from anything else it's a fair reminder that if this is where critics started it's no surprise they're critics, but there is something a little sad about seeing a writer I love at her worst. 

Starling House - Alix E. Harrow

Another week, another visit to the dentist. The filling I had last week had 'lifted' so it was kind of loose and scratching the inside of my cheek, but still in firmly enough to need drilling out, and altogether it's been a nuisance. I now have a new filling and a lot of paranoia as my dentist clearly has no faith in this one lasting any longer than the 4 days the previous effort managed. She's away on holiday next week but assured me one of her colleagues would do a temporary fix if needed. Not encouraging. 

Starling House was my Cheltenham book and read mostly for work. I came at it with limited expectations but ended up really enjoying it. It's an excellent autumn choice - full of Gothic (specifically Southern Gothic) atmosphere. It riffs smartly on Beauty and the Beast and the Hades and Persephone myth whilst making something almost benign out of the haunted house trope. 

Opal Jewell lost her mother 10 years ago, since then she's done lied, forged, and connived her way to keeping her brother with her and getting by with the hope she can find a way out of their small town, dead-end life for him. Then one day she finds the gates of Starling House open for her - it and it's owner have a decidedly grim reputation in town, but it calls to her one outcast to another. She takes up a suspiciously well-paid job there as a cleaner and gets a much closer look at some of the house's secrets. 

Unfortunately for all Opal isn't the only one interested in those secrets. There's a threatening corporate outfit who would also very much like to know what Starling House is and how they can exploit it, and they're an entirely credible threat. Harrow also explores the legacy of slavery, abuse, and generational trauma, but with a reasonably light hand. It's enough to give the book substance without overwhelming the reader in misery. Overall the book is a slow burner with a lot of atmosphere balancing the early lack of action. 

The tropes and influences are well warn, but Starling House does it better than most of the examples I can think of, so I don't mind that at all. Harrow has written Young Adult in the past and the only real criticism I have of this book is that her main characters read a good few years younger than their stated ages of late 20s and early 30s. In a charitable mood, I could put that down to their personal histories - Opal's younger brother seems more mature than she does, so maybe she's meant to read like this. It's probably also part of what makes this feel like a book that would be suitable for anyone from youngish teen upwards, and after a summer of fantasy books heavy on smut and violence, it's been a relief to read something more thoughtful and low-key.

Altogether a hit for me; a smart, well crafted, Gothic fairy tale with excellent world building and convincingly fallible characters. I'd describe it as solid rather than brilliant, and mean it as a compliment.

A Lively Midwinter Murder - Katy Watson

I'm more or less over my Cheltenham cold - still coughing but mercifully no longer snotty, and wondering how it's almost half way through October already. I'm normally a bit further ahead with Christmas plans by now but I'm not really feeling it this year - except for the Christmas books which are filtering in at work and turning me thoughts somewhat festive. Or murderous seeing as it's crime and dark folklore I'm mostly being drawn towards. 

A Lively Midwinter Murder is the fourth outing for the 3 Dahlias, as a series it continues to go from strength to strength. Do our actresses meet a more than statistically likely amount of murders - yes, but it's not as if celebrity circles are scandal or crime-free. The motivation in this book is also the most compelling one yet. The setting is atmospheric and fun, the characters continue to develop into believable people, and the further involvement of the ladies various partners is a nice touch - it makes those relationships more convincing as well. 

I really like the way Katy Watson evokes golden age atmosphere and tropes in a contemporary setting as well. Not everybody can carry this trick off as well as she does, and I'm wondering if the key here is the strong friendship between the 3 Dahlia's themselves. I can't think of another series or book that has this mix of 3 women of different ages negotiating life, love, and career whilst solving crime together. If anyone has a recommendation though, I'd love to hear it. 

The central friendship is far more important than any background romances which also makes a pleasant change. I love the relationship between Lord Peter and Harriet Vane as much as the next person, and between every other detective and their significant other, or the relationship between Lord Peter and his Bunter for that matter (and so on) but an equal friendship without social hierarchy, gender, or job in the way is a nice touch. 

In short, an excellent Christmas mystery with ruined weddings, snow storms, ghost stories, a Scottish castle, mince pies, and murder for lovers of the cosier sort of crime to look forward to this November (I've only just realised that I read an advanced review copy and didn't think to check the publication date until this moment)

Cheltenham Literature Festival Set Up

I spent last week helping set up for Cheltenham Literature festival - it;s one of the oldest, and though I can't easily find specific information on this, I think probably one of the UKs largest too - there are 400 events over 10 days with some really big names attached in venues all over the town as well as the Montpellier gardens sight, it's definitely not small.

It's by far the largest thing I've been involved in, and it was fascinating. We built 3 bookshops from the floor up, 2 of them on a grand scale in 4 days, Moved tons of stock and furniture, and saw some of the effort that goes into making something like this come together. I left on the first day of events as work needed me back in Leicester - I have mixed feelings about leaving halfway through. I loved the setup and meeting colleagues, and as a Cheltenham first-timer, it was good to have the more gentle introduction before all the crazy stuff that can go wrong with live events kicked in - the last-minute cancellations are wild. I also caught a cold that would have made the next few days miserable...

On the other hand I'm missing some amazing events and the chance to say hello to some people I'd love to have met. But there will be other opportunities to do that, and I'm more inclined to go to a book festival as a paying customer after this. As a none driver I've looked at headline events and train fairs in the past and thought no. Hours of cross checking events over the last few days has taught me that the majority of the things I want to see would not be headline events and are fairly reasonably priced - I'd think about it for next year.

The best thing might well have been seeing all the books - more stock than we have in our local branch across all the sights and an emphasis on new titles with supporting backlist for speakers, not all of which we will see in Leicester. I knew this about books generally, but unpacking pallet after pallet of them is something like looking through old photograph albums. Books about art, books about wine, books written by people I'm friendly with, books published by people I'm friendly with, books about people I've crossed paths with, books I've loved, and books I've loathed. Day to day this is not how I interact with stock at work where it's the odd thing that strikes a chord. On this scale the whole orchestra was playing. 

How To Solve Your Own Murder - Kristen Perrin

I picked this up mostly because I liked the cover and there's a bit of buzz about it - it looked like it was going to be a decent easy read at the cosier end of the crime scale. And more or less it is exactly that, but a quote from the mail that says "This has a Netflix series written all over it..." probably more or less sums it up. There's lots of great visuals in here and an intriguing plot, it would televise nicely, but it doesn't quite hang together as a book. 

I didn't check until I'd finished reading but Kristen Perrin is American, she moved to England to do a masters and then a PHD after several years as a bookseller. It probably explains a few of the anomalies - the most glaring of which seems to be a lack of understanding of how titles and property are handed down through British aristocracy, or inheritance tax. 

I'm not sure who exactly this book is aimed at, cosy crime suggests middle age to me (because I'm middle aged and I don't like violent psychological crime thrillers, but plenty of my contemporaries do so that's worth very little), but the cover maybe suggests a younger more design-conscious, bookstagram, reader. They may not be particularly well-versed in the inequities of primo geniture either for all I know, but I grew up on Jane Austen before moving on to Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West. 

I suppose there might be a world where a small English Village had two ambulances stationed in it, but not one where paramedics commonly worked alone - who hasn't seen enough Casulty to understand that? And the 60s might have been swinging in London and the bigger cities, but attitudes towards sex outside of marriage for middle-class girls in the counties took a long time to catch up, and so did the availability of condoms. There's a very sketchy understanding of the current art market too. 

The premise of How To Solve Your Own Murder is that in 1965 three teenage girls have their fortune read at the village fair, one is told her future contains dry bones and she will be murdered. She takes it to heart, and after another one of the three goes missing she dedicates her life to solving that mystery and evading her own fate. Eventually, more than half a century later she is murdered just as her great-niece has been sent for as a new potential heiress - she might be the right daughter mentioned in the fortune who will bring justice. 

Annie is an unemployed would be crime novelist living in a Chelsea mansion with her artist mother on the charity of Great Aunt Frances. She seems a bit flakey, the terms of the will say if she solves her great aunt's murder within a week and before the police or the other potential heir - I don't think this is a will that would stand up in court. Much of the detection work revolves around reading Frances' diaries that Annie has discovered from the summer of 1965, and these flashbacks are probably the best bit of the book, the characters come alive, and the plot holes are less glaring. 

This is the first in a planned series, it will probably do well, and there are worse things out there, but it fell flat for me. The resolution to the 1960s murder is flimsy, and half an hour's research would have cleared up some silly errors - that nobody thought it worth checking any of these details made me, as a reader, feel taken for granted.