Pagans - James Alistair Henry

I haven't done as much reading as I mean to on holiday - I never do, but I have finished Pagans, which I really loved. It's a mash-up of alternative history, urban fantasy, and police procedural, so not my usual kind of book choice, though not entirely unusual either and it delivered on all levels. 

Britain is a global back water - I guess on a par with one of the less fortunate Balkan countries now, maybe a little bit more depressed. Christianity never got a strong hold on the west and the Norman conquest didn't happen. The global super power is a pan African alliance, much of Southern Europe is a caliphate, America was never colonised... Britain itself is still 3 countries - Scotland is an independent Nordic country, the east of England is ruled by the dominant and more wealthy Saxons, the west is tribal Celtic.

On the eve of another summit to unify the three nations, a Celtic diplomat is found nailed to a tree—crucified. Detective Inspector Drustan is sent from the west to work with Captain Aedith Mercia, a Saxon princess as well as policewoman (or reeve). Two cops. One Killer. Hundreds of Gods, as the strapline would have it. 

It's a brutal kind of world, though not precisely a dystopia (depending on your view of London, which might be considered dystopian at the best of times). The whodunnit element is decent if not spectacular, the relationships between the various characters are more interesting, with plenty of scope for more a series, the alternative history is really good fun. 

Henry has an excellent pedigree as a comedy writer, he uses it well here both in his world building and in the way relationship he forges between Aedith and Drustan who bounce off each other nicely. There are political parallels and points that can be drawn from this reimagined history if you want to, but expertly balanced against the comedic possibilities of the world building so I never felt it was heavy handed with the morals. 

There is quite a bit of violence or mention of violence, though it's seldom graphic in the details. If that doesn't bother you I highly recommend this. It's intriguing, provocative, and overall really good fun. 

The Shetland Way - Marianne Brown

March has been a month of recuperation and minor disaster - my purse was either lost or stolen, but either way, cards were used fraudulently and it;a been a massive pain to sort out, though god bless my bank who both alerted me to the issue and made it as easy as possible to fix. 

Meanwhile I haven't managed to finish many books, although I've started quantities of them. I'm struggling to stay awake in the evening and concentrate beyond work at all in the aftermath of whatever infection made the end of February so miserable. Things are starting to come together again though, and today I finished The Shetland Way which I have been reading for weeks. 

I enjoyed The Shetland Way but I also think it's a bit of a mess of a book, one that can't quite decide what it wants to be. Marianne Brown is the daughter of the late potter Bill Brown (I have one of his herring gull jugs and wish I'd bought a few more pieces whilst I could). Her parents split whilst she was quite young, and her relationship with her father was obviously not a straight forward one. In 2019 he became ill, his funeral was in Shetland not long before lockdown started, Marianne, her husband and young child ended up staying for 8 months rather than the few weeks they had planned. home is normally in Devon. 

During that period of grieving and lockdown Marianne is re-evaluating her father, reconnecting with family in Shetland and starts to learn more about the Viking Energy wind farm, a divisive project that continues to be a contentious issue in Shetland and is conveniently not much talked about elsewhere. Marrianne is an environmental journalist, pre publication at least this book was billed as being more about the effect the windfarm has had on the islands; in fact it's much more of a biography framed against the development of the islands, and this is where I think it falls down. It's trying very hard to do two different things, and the one that feels important - the discussion about how we produce energy in the future comes off second best. 

Marianne tries hard to be neutral and she's broadly sympathetic to the people who see the windfarm as a negative but it's also clear that she's broadly in favour. What could, and possibly should have been the central question of the book - if not here than where? is raised but not addressed. One of the final chapters touches on racism in the islands, my impression reading it was that it's a justification for change, but the experience of 1 person isn't enough to make a point. 

There is a growing body of evidence for the negative impacts that wind farms have on health, and this really is an issue in Shetland where inevitably given the long narrow nature of the islands the windfarm gets closer to houses than guidelines suggest. We need green energy, but if we're to change how we live we really need to live with the means of production and not ship it off somewhere out of sight and out of mind for the majority. Change won't happen whilst ot feels like business as usual.  

Bees & Honey - Steve Minshall and Rachel de Thample

Thank god for antibiotics - after almost 4 weeks of feeling like crap I'm sort of human again. I vaguely remember a time when cold and flu type bugs didn't floor me, and that however snotty I was, I could at least still read a book. I can't do that anymore. I sleep, and when I can stay awake long enough, I go back to work, come home, and sleep again, hence the lengthy absence from posting.

I saw this book at work yesterday and pounced on it with an enthusiasm and energy that definitely heralded a return to full health though. It's been a long wait for a new River Cottage handbook, the last one came out in 2020 (there has been the not quite a handbook guide to Christmas in between), and I'm wondering if Bees & Honey has had a considerable rewrite at some stage in the intervening years.

It differs from the previous books in that it does not assume you want to keep bees or even to eat honey if you're vegan (the chicken book definitely assumes you want chickens), and it strongly suggests that keeping bees might not be the best thing you can do to help them. What we can all do, even if a window box is the only option, is plant better and understand more. It might make sense to create bee friendly habitats for wild species that you wouldn't take honey from and instead buy good quality local honey, use less of it, and appreciate it more.

The recipe element of the book takes a less is more approach on how to use honey and honey products, which I like. Honey is a strong flavour that needs to be treated with respect and a light hand, and I will admit I'm particularly curious about the not quite a recipe that's a spoon of honey with black coffee. There could be a lot of fun to be had finding the perfect bean and blossom matches. 

Overall, it's the combination of information about bees, bee related products, and what's good to eat or should be left alone (pollen, bees need it more than we do) and how to make a better world for bees which makes this book so good. And if it's bee-keeping you really want there's all the information you could need to start down that road too. 

I have loved this series from the outset, Handbook number 2 (Preserves, Pam Corbin 2008) came in the first flush of my enthusiasm for making my own jam and Marmalade, Handbook number 3 (Bread by Daniel Stevens 2009) taught me how to make all sorts of breads and is still my go to guide. They are consistently useful and inspiring - I hope there will be more to come, or at least one more to round out the numbers at 20 volumes. I have a lot of cookbooks, but nothing else comes close to this series in looking at food holistically. 

Murder As A Fine Art - Carol Carnac

I absolutely loved this one from The British Library Crime Classics series - it speaks directly to several of my interests and turned out to be an excellent mystery with really delightful characters - so all boxes duly ticked. 

As a bonus, I learnt quite a bit about the architect Decimus Burton (I suppose if you have 10 children it's acceptable to start numbering them?). there were so many real artists names being thrown about that despite not initially believing in Decimus I looked him up, and not only real but prolific and important. The way the building feels like a living character in this book is very much one of its charms. 

That the victim is done to death by an outsize Canova bust of an extremely unattractive Earl is another winning point. The building and victim belong to the Ministry of Fine Arts, the Minister for Fine Arts is Humphry David and he's a delightful character too - one who does not believe in the use of his department or the validity of much of the art it holds. 

The mystery and its solution are fun as well as clever, but I'd suggest the best reason to read this is for its gentle arguments about modern art which run through the whole plot. There are characters who are pretentious about it; and ignorant in equal measure. Characters who admit they don't understand it but strive to, and characters who come to see something where previously they had not. It's an intelligent and thoughtful process that reveals an ingenious scam, enjoys a few jokes, and feels remarkably timeless. 

Bath Tangle - Georgette Heyer

I have a gross cold which has done nothing for my weekend plans (spend time with husband, catch a bunch of comedy festival gigs, finish some of the many books I've read 3/4s of and then abandoned). I think I might be in the process of finally learning the patience to sweat onions properly - I'm craving onion soup with lots of garlic, but it doesn't feel like much of an achievement when it;s as much as I can concentrate on. 

The Georgette Heyer Readalong that was such a lockdown lifeline has partly migrated to Signal as a chat group, but we have recently resurrected the group read with Bath Tangle - 3 chapters a week with an hour or so chatting on the night and then the odd opinion shared throughout the week. It's a really good format for a dozen or so people to slowly read and discuss a book. We know each other well enough to be open to a range of disagreements on characters. We also all love Georgette Heyer's books even if we don't love all of her books equally which helps keep things friendly. 

Bath Tangle was nobody's favourite going in and probably isn't going out either, but I enjoyed the slow read much more than I expected to and like the book more for it. It opens at a funeral with 2 young women waiting for the men to join them. The younger of the two turns out to be a late Earl's widow, the other his daughter. The Earl we swiftly concluded was a bit dodgy, first for marrying a woman younger than his daughter, and secondly for leaving his 25-year-old daughter's financial future tied up in the hands of her ex-fiance. 

What follows is a book that has a whole lot of characters trying their best not to hurt each other, financially controlled by one another, scared of various mothers, and overall demonstrating how vulnerable women's lives were to the men around them. It was written in 1955 when a woman wouldn't have been able to get a mortgage, or any kind of bank loan without a male guarantor and would still have been expected to leave work when she married. 

The emotional entanglements continue to complicate themselves (In Bath) very much in the manner of a drawing room comedy - and this would make an excellent stage play, before suddenly resolving in mostly satisfactory ways. We all agreed that we didn't think much of the main characters, but that their often appalling behavior was all too easy to believe in - and that's the genius of Heyer. Every character feels fleshed out and feasible. When they behave badly we understand why, we also get a fun dissection of how not everyone is suited - one woman's hero might be another villain.

Given the relatively limited education and employment options for a lot of girls even in the 1950s, as well as the social stigma of divorce it's interesting to see Heyer's evident distaste for marriage between very young women and much older, richer men. Yes, they offer financial and social security, but there's a cost. 

A Death In The Parish - The Reverend Richard Coles

My connectivity issues persist and as Norton has decided not to let my laptop connect to any open networks I can't even head out to a café to post which somewhat ups the pressure to get a new network provider. All very annoying.

Something I am looking forward to though is the next Richard Coles coming out in paperback next week. I'm late to Canon Daniel Clement - which is hardly a deterrent to enthusiasm. The mood of 'A Death in the Parish' is distinctly different to 'Murder Before Evensong' and I'm curious to see where Coles will take us next. 'A Death in the Parish' definitely feels more personal, impossible to say if Canon Clement is closer to Reverend Coles or not, but the murders here are both closer to home (Daniel's home) and less important to the heart of the book - it's characters.

I have read elsewhere that Audrey is closely based on Coles' own mother - impossible to doubt if you remember his tweets about her, and this has to be why Audrey is a creation of near genius. She is the perfect mix of impossibly frustrating and absolutely plausible. As a reader you have to love her, not least because her writer so clearly does and makes her irresistible in the process. 

The stakes between Daniel and Neil are raised by a growing friendship, something deeper, and then betrayal - and this also is beautifully handled. I loved the first book for the way it reminded me of E M Delafield's Diary of a Provincial Lady, I find more Barbara Pym here, and much more Richard Coles, he's definitely settling into his fiction style in this one. 

There's not much else I can say about a relatively high profile series that's still also relatively new - other than read it if you haven't already! 

The Scandalous Confessions of Lydia Bennet, Witch - Melinda Taub

I didn't mean to take such a long break but I lost wifi for a few days and then went to stay with mum, who has working wifi, but I forgot my laptop (and to bring a sample half dozen of the best sausages you could ever find - sold on Leicester market by a very nice butcher). We've been celebrating her 75th birthday. 

For my own sanity, I've not been paying much attention to what's happening in America and I'm very close to deleting twitter/x - the stumbling block is that I'm in charge of the work account so can't completely ignore it. This is part of a more general quandary regarding social media. Facebook is annoying but it's still the best way to keep in touch with older family members. I mostly like Insta but the adverts and rubbish are becoming overwhelming and the ethics of all of it are questionable. And yet, it's all such a part of modern life that cutting any of it off feels as difficult as getting rid of online banking, I would manage but it would be massively more complicated. 

All of this is feeding into a desire to read books that are essentially comforting. Lydia Bennet, Witch fitted the bill nicely. I do not as a rule like it when people mess around with Jane Austen, but this was very much the exception that worked for me. Melinda Taub obviously knows her Austen, she captures Lydias's voice perfectly - or maybe more precisely I could hear Julia Sawalha's voice from the 90s Pride and Prejudice, but I'll take it. 

The combination of affection for and knowledge of Austen along with taking minor characters and giving them a whole other magical life is a winning one in this instance. So is the minimum of smut - there's a smidgen of romance between Lydia and Whickham - a literal demon here, and Kitty who is really a cat, and Denny - but it's very much the sweet kind rather than the explicit kind. 

Picking out the bits that are Austen from the bits that are not is fun, there are a number of side characters from P&P plus one from Sanditon. There's enough consideration of slavery and women's position in society to give the plot a bit of weight, and Taub thinks Mr Bennet is a terrible father, on which point she's absolutely correct. 

This won't be for everyone, but if you like a little fantasy in the mix it's a good time. 

This Will Be Fun - E. B. Asher

One of the perks of my job is the number of review copies that come my way, and on Friday's there's the extra bonus of Publishers Weekly where we get sent an impressively long list of books to request from. It's not guaranteed that you'll actually get what you ask for, and it can be a long wait for something to appear (I got a Christmas related book I'd asked for in November 2023 in July 2024). It's entirely likely that by the time something comes through I've completely forgotten why I was attracted to it in the first place.

This is kind of what happened with 'This Will Be Fun' which sat around for a good few weeks before I picked it up a couple of days ago, finally in the mood for something light and fantasy-based again. E. B. Asher is in fact 3 people writing together, and what they've produced is fun cosy fantasy. If you like Travis Baldree and The Princess Bride this is worth a second look. 

Ten years ago The Four - best friends, Beatrice, Elowen, Clare, and Galwell saved the realm of Mythria from a terrible threat, and they haven't spoken since. The Queen of Mythria is about to marry though, their presence at her wedding is demanded, and then when her fiance is abducted they have little choice but to put their differences behind them and set off to the rescue again. However reluctantly it may be. 

In terms of world-building and plot it's not the best book you'll read but for quipping, silly jokes, a celebration of found family, a celebration of the value of therapy, and for asking the question of what happens at the end of the quest it does it all. I don't think the world building matters very much - we're all familiar with the tropes and this book is all about relationships and personal growth. I'm equally indifferent to the plot, evil is vanquished, good wins out, and true love prevails. 

A couple of years ago I would not have thought of myself as a cosy fantasy fan, but when it's done well it turns out I am, it's exactly what I want to wind down from the stress of the busiest time of year. The doing it well bit is the trick. I've come across a few attempts that feel cynical - to paint by numbers and lacking in the humour that makes the best of them work. You need to go light on the smut too - which this does. 

Murder before Evensong - Richard Coles

2025 will, if nothing else, be the year I caught up with Richard Coles and appreciated what the fuss is about. I remain skeptical about efforts to televise this book, for me the charm lies in the observations, turns of phrase, and mild obsession with stationary. I do not believe these will translate well to screen, but with luck something else good will emerge, sufficiently different to the books to be enjoyed in it's own right.

I'm not at al; comfortable with the description cosy crime for these books either - they might take second place to a frank delight in parish life, and the details are mercifully brief, but it does not change their brutality (a carotid artery severed with a pair of secateurs is not a cosy image at all). I've now read the first 2 Canon Clement mysteries, and the Christmas Novella. Book number 3 is out in paperback mid February. I am a committed fan. 

Anyone who followed Coles on social media over the last while (I can't remember when I started - before lockdown?) will recognise elements of the life he shared there, as well as his gift for sharp observation. It's a smart tactic, as is the 1980s setting. The 80s are safely pre DNA fingerprinting, mobile phones, and social media. Even if you don't really remember the era the films and music keep it close. It's an interesting time socially too - which Coles explores with delicacy.

My feeling after reading Murder Under the Mistletoe was that it had a lot in common with The Diary of a Provincial Lady, Murder Before Evensong confirms that, and earns comparisons to Barbara Pym, Murial Sharp, nods towards G K Chesterton, and maybe Molly Keane too, although Coles is kinder than either Keane, or Sharp, towards his characters. His observations might be forensic but they're not unkind - Audrey, Canon Daniel Clements's mother, is a creation of genius. It's a shame that Maggie Smith will never portray her. 

Meanwhile there's much about the workings of the church, village politics, faith, acceptance of human foibles, and dachshunds. It's delightful, and a very strong start to my reading year. 

My Top 10 Books for 2024

It is probably 12th night - I see arguments for different counts on this - and definitely the end of Christmas. My tree will come down this afternoon and it's time for a round up list of last years reading.

Looking back I see I've read more than I thought I had, though maybe not as much as I thought I should, and there have been some really great books in that mix. These don't come in any particular order beyond going back through the years post and thinking that, and that, and that - but they are books I've put effort into selling at work as well so I suppose I've really staked whatever bookselling reputation I have on them too. 

Sarah Clegg's Dead of Winter is first up. An interesting and entertaining survey of the darker Christmas traditions and the comeback they're making, albeit in a sanitised and social media friendly form. I went to see Twelth Night at the RSC yesterday which was a stark reminder of how unruly and cruel a tradition that could be. It's a charming and funny production that still cannot hide the viciousness of the low comedy in it. Sarah Clegg knows her stuff, and she's excellent company in this little book - a mix of fun new trivia and deeper thinking that isn't just for Christmas.

Next is Murder Under the Mistletoe. I hadn't paid as much attention to The Reverand Richard Coles books as I might, but this one was the magic combination of short and fun. It's an enjoyable story with an ingenious murder plot - it also inspired me to buy the earlier books. I loved Murder Before Evensong and am sailing through A Death in the Parish. I see that the Murder Before Evensong is being televised. I have mixed feelings about this, so much of the charm of the books for me is in the quality of the descriptions/sharpness of observation and I'm doubtful about how well that will translate to screen - if you like lengthy descriptions of how church works stick with the books. 

This is the book I've bought and given most copies of - Alice Lascelles Martini. She is one of the best writers on spirits around - I cannot recommend her books on cocktails highly enough for clear and sensible instructions that will give excellent and achievable results every time. People spend a lot of time and money on trying to overcomplicate drinks - the Martini takes us back to basics and builds on them in all sorts of ways. She's not particularly hard line about what can be called a Martini, and more than willing to include iterations some purists would have drawn the line at. More power to her on that front. It's a splendid book. 

There isn't an order to these books, but if there was this one would be at the top of the list. Jen Hadfield's Storm Pegs is an extraordinary book however I look at it. A beautiful meditation on place and language and time that blurs the lines between poetry and biography. This is Hadfield's account of the home she found and made told through language and landscape. It's magical. 

I was frankly disappointed with the adaptation of Man Size in Marble shown on Christmas Eve. It over complicated a story that works because of its simplicity. E. Nesbit's Ghost stories are fabulous, and The House of Silence - get this from the soon to be much missed Handheld Press whilst you can - is the best collection around. Weird tales are for all year round, but very much belong in midwinter. 

Greekish is easily my cookbook of the year. I've used it a lot, enjoyed everything I've made, given it to a few people as presents - mostly after cooking from it for them and consider it Georgina Hayden's best book yet. The recipes are perfect for pottering around in the kitchen - not overly complicated but distinctive enough to feel special. It's full of the things she cooks for her family and consequently has a broad appeal. As good for brightening up winter days as it summer food.

Columba's Bones is the one that's divided people most here I think. It's one of polygon's Darklands series, and in my opinion one of the best - but it is violent and graphic with it so avoid if that's not to your taste. I found David Greig's use of language clever and his tale touching as well as occasionally shocking. Overall I think he caught the fear of a Viking attack and the brutality of the moment well. It's a novella that punches well above its weight. 

Someone From The Past by Margot Bennett was my favourite Crime Classic read this year against some stiff competition. This one stood out for the chaotic nature of the heroine, and its overview of bohemian post-war London. There must have been plenty of books set against the same background, but they don't come my way so very often. Bennett's sympathetic portrayal of 2 girls making their way up in the world, the men they encounter on the way, and the murderous consequences for one of them really is a lost classic. 

Nights Out At Home by Jay Rayner sits somewhere between memoir and cookbook - an increasingly popular and sometimes tedious device that works very well here because Rayner is primarily a restaurant critic rather than a cook. Memories of meals he's loved and efforts to recreate them, or in the case of the Gregg's Steak Bake to take them to the next level give us 60 or so recipes, most of which I probably will never try, but all of which make me think about great meals I've had, the company I had them in, and how I approach cooking day to day. If you like Rayner's columns this is worth having.

I should have spent more time with this book since buying it, but there's no huge rush and projects are bubbling away at the back of my mind as I write this. Shetland Fine Lace Knitting by Carol Christiansen is an important as well as useful book. It's come out of a lengthy piece of work she's been involved in at the Shetland Museum and Archive and is a real contribution to the history of Shetland lace. It's also stuffed full of patterns to incorporate into your own work. It's one to treasure for the knitters out there.