The Tapestry Of Love – Rosy Thornton

About a year and a month ago I had an email from Rosy Thornton asking if I’d like a copy of her book to read, these kinds of offers are – I was going to say always exciting but actually sometimes are slightly baffling (the person who offered a vampire romance aimed at teens clearly didn’t read my blog first and I’m not tempted by self help books from American preachers – although the blond begs me to say yes to those). The chance to get a copy of ‘The Tapestry of Love’ however was flattering; I had already seen good things written about it and thought it might be just the thing for some lazy late summer reading.

I don’t know why I didn’t read it straight away, possibly because it was a hardback and seemed like a big book to carry around (I have a larger handbag now than I did last summer – makes all the difference) but the longer I left it the guiltier I felt, by Christmas it had become a chore to be faced, and in March I wrote a post about feeling guilty over the pile of unread hardbacks that weighed down the shelf (which it seems I opened in exactly the same way as this one which shows I’m consistent I suppose). Finally late summer has arrived again and suddenly ‘A Tapestry of Love’ started to look tempting again.

Now I’ve read ‘A Tapestry of Love’ the guilt has gone (it would have lurked on if I hadn’t liked the book). It is a perfect late summer read. Catherine Parkstone is a likable heroine, in her late 40’s, divorced for 8 years, children grown up, and off to the Cevennes mountains for a new start in the south of France. Part of the romance is the easy way in which she’s accepted into her new community and the way her fledgling business as an upholsterer takes off. Never mind the tall dark and handsome Frenchman across the way who cooks as only a Frenchman can, who hasn’t daydreamed about moving somewhere beautiful to make a living out of something they love? Well I have at any rate and although I didn’t imagine France the basic fantasy is the same.

Catherine’s place in her new community is threatened first by family complications, then by bureaucracy, and finally by that tall dark etc Frenchman. Family appears in the form of a sister who looks likely to be romantic competition, a son as self contained as his mother, and a daughter who won’t settle to a job. There’s also the mother back in England in a home with Alzheimer’s and the ex husband who maybe wants a bigger part in Catherine’s life again.

 There were moments when I felt like it was all a bit to idyllic and easy - and then Catherine’s mother dies, there’s nothing sensational about it but the way Thornton handles it is moving and feels real. It’s at points like this that her gift as a writer really comes through. There is a balance that makes the whole thing deeply satisfying, like I said perfect late summer reading. 

The Guilty Pile.

Months and months ago Rosy Thornton sent me an email asking if I'd like a copy of ‘The Tapestry of Love’ to read. Yes please I said because I’d heard good things about it and thought it sounded just the thing that I was looking for. I’ve still not read it. I also have a copy of Richard Mabey’s ‘Weeds’ which I’ve read 3 chapters of, was fascinated by, and haven’t got any further with, and perhaps most guilty of all is ‘The Captain’s Wife’ by Kirsten McKenzie. I’ve had ‘The Captain’s Wife’ since August; a lovely lady from John Murray had said to let her know if I wanted anything. I really liked McKenzie’s ‘The Chapel at the Edge of the World’ and so asked for this her second book. It arrived, I got really excited, the Scottish one read and loved it, and I still haven’t managed to open it.

The problem is that all these books are hardbacks and I really struggle with hardbacks. They don’t fit in my bag (which is small to fit in the teeny tiny lockers we have at work) and as most my reading is done on work breaks and bus trips books that don’t fit in my bag suffer. I gave up trying to read two books at once because I never seemed to finish either or any of them. I never seem to be at home for more than a few hours at a time so the chance of reading a book in one session is ever diminishing... See the excuses piling up – why in the time it’s taken me to write all this down I could probably have read a couple of chapters.

These three are the tip of an unread iceberg but they’re the only ones that induce guilt, partly because in accepting (or soliciting) them I made a bargain if only with myself to read promptly. Partly because I know I’ll get to most those other books (perhaps not the Milton or Dante – but all the rest for sure) in the fullness of time and when I’m in the right mood – but hardbacks... there are dozens of times I’ve meant to pick up all of these three and just haven’t. Anyway the point of writing all this down is as a prompt to self to get on with it. I procrastinate far too much so this is me getting my act together and setting myself a goal which should be easy to reach – hopefully the goal reaching thing will become a habit and I’ll be able to tackle hardbacks any old time.