Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts

Monday, 21 April 2014

On Chesil Beach - Ian McEwan

"This is how the entire course of a life can be changed. By doing nothing."

I picked up this book because it was by Ian McEwan and I loved his book Atonement.

I hadn’t ever heard of ‘On Chesil Beach’. It seems to have gone under the radar a little bit, but it is on Goodreads.com and it has some really good reviews. For the first hundred or so pages I had no idea why that was. By the last few it had become apparent.

Florence and Edward are newly weds. They have been dating for around a year and are completely in love. But both are stifling secrets. Those secrets are easily discussed but potentially detrimental to the consummation of their marriage.

Over ninety percent of this book takes place across a two-hour period. During that time we are granted access to Florence and Edward’s inner thoughts. We witness their individual battles with their feelings on sex and their misconceptions about one another. It is really quite fascinating, if not a little bit frustrating.

If it weren’t for the last chapter I wouldn’t think that this book was half as good, but McEwan ties it all up in expertly. The point of this novel, which has remained utterly hidden throughout the first one hundred and fifty pages, only makes itself apparent in the last ten.

It is an urging to avoid secrecy and dishonesty in your relationship. It is a reminder that saying what is on your lips is easier than saying what is on your mind, but can sometimes have drastic and irreparable consequences.

Just as with Atonement, it is a pleading encouragement to be honest about what you know, especially concerning the people who need to know it.

A quick and easy read, with a good, strong, moral message.             

Sunday, 1 December 2013

The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Whenever you feel like criticising anyone, just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the same advantages that you’ve had.”

I prefer to read books without knowing anything about the story. I like to be surprised. I was very surprised by The Great Gatsby.

Firstly, I though that this novel would be written in the first person and from his perspective, or third person omniscient at the very least, but its written in first person and from the perspective of a gentleman called Nick Carraway.

Carraway was born into a wealthy family. He had a top class upbringing and was given a fine education. As a result, he has accumulated a gentlemanly attitude and an array of equally wealthy friends.

After a stint in the army, Carraway moves to a suburb of New York. His neighbour there is the incredibly rich and insatiably sociable Jay Gatsby, a man who earned his own money in a manner that nobody is quite sure of. Every weekend Jay Gatsby’s house is privy to a party lasting from Friday evening to Sunday afternoon. It is here that they meet for the first time. An unlikely and unconventional fondness brews between the pair.

Gatsby turns out to be nothing like Carraway imagined. He is a man tortured by a lost love. A love that Nick happens to know.

The Great Gatsby is a story of high society, wealth and the American dream. It is an easy read and, if you pay a little bit of attention, it contains some important life lessons. Having money doesn’t mean you can have everything you want, nor does it necessarily make you happy. As long as you are willing to do whatever it takes to get it, you can earn more money than you could ever imagine, but you would still not be able to buy the heart of somebody else. And, on top of that, even rich people are miserable a lot of the time.


This is a good, easy read. There is very little suspense and, as my good friend Jade said, it isn’t exactly a page-turner, but the story is good, the characters and vibrant and the end, whilst not being favourable, is at least conclusive. Well worth your time!

Friday, 22 November 2013

Dracula - Bram Stoker

“How good and thoughtful he is; the world seems full of good men--even if there are monsters in it.” 


If you ignore all of the sexism and the incredible coincidences, Dracula is an epically addictive novel. It is story telling at its finest. It is sensational. It is the ultimate page turner.

Jonathan Harker travels to Transylvania to meet with a client. On his way he receives a series of warnings from locals about his destination. Nobody thinks to tell Jonathan that his client is actually a dead monster, though. Obviously.

Jonathan realises very quickly that all is not well. He is quite instantly a prisoner within Dracula’s castle, where he spends his day times wondering what the hell is going on and his evenings avoiding the clashing gnashers of three sexy, female vampires.

Count Dracula leaves Harker at the mercy of his menacing minxes and travels by boat to the United Kingdom, jumping on land at the port in Whitby. Here, Harker’s lovely fiancĂ© Mina happens to be staying with her beautiful friend, Lucy. (Note: One of the massive coincidences you need to forgive).

Dracula reigns terror on the seaside town, infecting Lucy with his deadliness and making her ill. The local Doctors and noblemen are perplexed by her sickness, and call on the help of Dr Van Helsing of Amsterdam, who quickly realises that the United Kingdom is under the attack of a vampire.

A nail biting, hair raising hunt then begins for Dracula. Together with their other friends, Harker, Mina and Van Helsing swear to hunt down the Count and kill him, or to die trying.

This book is strung together through a series of diaries written by its main characters, which is slightly weird to comprehend at first, but about half way through you realise it’s a clever and effective way of creeping you out. The characters learn things at separate rates, so whilst some of them are aware, for example, that Dracula can transform into mist, others are reporting waking up to find a thick cloud of foggy stuff hanging over them when they woke up that very morning. It is very disconcerting at times.

As previously mentioned, Dracula is a hugely sexist novel. The women are all flowery and obedient and frequently described using words like ‘loyal’ and ‘soft’. The men proclaim, more than once and with surprise, that Madam Mina has a ‘man’s brain’. Usually these proclamations are made after Mina has made a revelation or thought up a cunning plan. If you are a modern woman you need to get yourself into the habit of constantly reminding yourself that this book was written in 1897. Therefore, for her time, Madam Mina was quite unusual in her bravery and behaviour. (Note: If she were alive now she would be one of those Facebook girls. You know the ones who ‘found’ themselves when they met their boyfriends? The ones who now feel complete and don’t need anything else anymore?)

The pace can be quite slow throughout, which is fine, except it progresses really quickly towards the end. It left me feeling a little bit overwhelmed. I missed this book when I was done reading it, though. It felt weird not having it in my life everyday anymore, which is exactly how I like to feel after I have read something. As though it has dumped me, I suppose.

Highly recommended, though be warned that the book is a little bit unsettling. I don’t believe in vampires, but I found that this story regularly left me unnerved. It is not as fluffy as Twilight and nowhere near as obvious as Lost Boys. Its eeriness is very clever and magically subtle. I do most of my reading in bed before I go to sleep, and I have to say that this is probably the only way that Dracula should be read. Put on some candles, let some shadows creep across your room and settle down to read this. If you like a story you can sink you teeth into (ha!) you will be really, really glad you did. 

Saturday, 19 January 2013

Life of Pi - Yann Martel

One boy. One boat. One tiger.


Life of Pi by Yann Martel has taken over Birdsong as the best book I have ever read.

The whole way through reading it I was in the blissful position of not being able to put it down. It was everything I love in a good book. Colourful. Different. Unpredictable.

I didn’t know anything about it beyond the fact it had a tiger in it. I read it because I saw the trailer for the film and thought ‘What the hell is that about?’. If you don’t know already, it is about a boy who becomes stranded at sea with a zebra, a hyena, a tiger and a rat.

During his 227-day voyage both the thinkable and the unthinkable happen to him. His physical and mental strength are tested beyond comprehension as he tries to survive, and Pi, who narrates the novel, uses his unbelievable story as the basis for his belief in God.

“Love is hard to believe, ask any lover. Life is hard to believe, ask any scientist. God is hard to believe, ask any believer. What is your problem with hard to believe?”

I don’t want to spoil the ending for anyone, but the reader is left with a decision to make. Do you prefer and believe an extraordinary tail of endurance and friendship? Or do you believe a more comprehensible, tragic version of events.

There is no twist (which the movie version would like you to believe there is). There are simply two versions of events and you get to choose which one you prefer. It sounds complicated. It isn’t, I promise. And I can pretty much guarantee that, even though you may not want to, you will prefer the story that includes a tiger.

Life of Pi was a little bit of an emotional journey for me. I connected with its main character and his views on religion, I am already in love with India and the culture it has to offer, and I am a vegetarian (so I love animals). However, even if none of these things were true, I would love Life of Pi for the story it tells. It is original and breathtaking. A must read for story lovers everywhere.

Sunday, 20 May 2012

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo - Stieg Larsson

Overrated?

Perhaps the raving reviews of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo were what ruined it for me. Everyone who heard I was reading it told me that I was going to love it. One particular friend told me that she was avoiding reading the last installment in Stieg Larsson's famed Millenium series just because she didnt want it to end.I was promised a twist so fantastic that I was anticipating the end of the book from the very beginning. It was bestowed the honour of being the first book I purchased on my Amazon Kindle, and I sat down to read it excited to be at the beginning of a book that had been on my 'to read' list for a long time. I waited eagerly for the excitement to start. And waited. And I waited.

Even as I turned in to the epilogue  I was certain there was still more to come. Surely my mind was about to be blown. This can't be it. Can it? It was.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is, in theory, a fantastic story. A young girl has been missing for many years. Her uncle Henrik has never overcome her disappearance. Mikael Bloomvisk is a journalist shamed with a libel conviction. He is recruited to investigate the disappearance and promised information which will help him retribute those who have destroyed his career. On his way he meets Lisbeth Salandar, a disturbed, angry and talented young woman. Together they set out to solve a mystery which stumped even the most passionately involved policemen. The book is drenched with themes which enthral me - religion, crime and journalism. The charactes are kept associable through love affairs and sexual relationships. It is a story stitched together with historical facts and interesting statistics.

The book is slow paced and at times a difficult read. The core of the story is so interesting that I found myself bored by what appeared to be filler events. Many of the occurrences began with the promise of drama and then fall flat, and I found the idea that Mikael Blomkvisk, a man who is written as not particularly attractive, should have no fewer than three lovers throughout the course of a very busy year slightly unbelievable. Admittedly I haven't read the next instalment. There is every probability that Larsson not only ties up his loose ends, but explains what it is about this protagonist that makes these very different and beautiful women drop to their knees.

Had I not been told that this would be the best thing I would ever read I may not have been disappointed. I actively searched for the solutions to the problems written before me and more often than not I found them. I am not an avid reader of investigative novels and so am not well practised in guessing conclusions. I have an idea where the majority of the story lines are heading, but I don't know when I will read the rest of the series in order to discover them. I do not feel the desire I had imagined I would to carry on. I believe The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is a book best enjoyed when one has not had its spectacular reputation confirmed by their friends.

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Incendiary - Chris Cleave

Dear Osama...

The above are probably the most gripping two words I have ever had the delight of reading at the very beginning of a novel. They hooked me in and dragged me violently into the hypothetical writing of Chris Cleave, where the situation is a devastating terrorist attack on the Emirates Stadium.

‘Incendiary’ means to cause trouble or damage, and this novel of the same title is about the absolute destruction caused by this imaginary but highly descriptive atrocity. Written from the perspective of a nervous young mother, it supposes the disturbing reality of what she would like to say to Osama Bin Laden after seven consecutive detonated explosions rip apart her husband and young son. It is about how a person picks themselves up and carries on when their family are identifiable only by their dental records. It is about the horror of terrorism and how someone might cope.

‘Incendiary’ is not for everyone. It is a difficult read, not just because it deals with a particularly frightening concept, but because it is a story strung together erratically. Cleave cleverly alters his writing style to correlate with the inner ramblings of his ruined protagonist, and readers will find themselves doubting her behaviour as realistic.

The story switches unpredictably between the attempted rationalisations which consume our main character as she tries to come to terms with what has happened, and clear, definite moments of simple acceptance.

“It asked why I specially wanted to work at Tesco’s and I wrote because my husband and my boy were recently blown up by Islamic terrorists and this has caused a number of problems for me but the most urgent now is money and that is why I want to work at Tesco’s”

She tries desperately to appeal to Bin Laden, and is convincingly written as unhinged enough to post such a letter in the belief that she would be able to put an end to global terror. Her story is so incredibly upsetting that you may end up believing that she could. Or, you may discard ’Incendiary’ as an unbelievable and unnecessarily dramatic piece of writing which does not accurately portray the mind of a destroyed mother and wife. Regardless, this is a beautiful, descriptive, innovative and captivating story, which many will wish was toned down or written a bit differently but most will take on as an unique and incomparable reading experience.

Sunday, 17 July 2011

Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks

A Book To Sing Songs About

Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks is not a book I fell instantly in love with. Nor did it have me captivated from the very first page. I am ashamed to say that, though I had heard of it, I had no idea what it was about, and that I turned the first few pages encouraged only by curiosity and my new years resolution to commit myself to reading more. I did not find it particularly interesting at first. In fact, I was instantly put off when I realised the first chapter was set in France in 1910. I am used to fluffy novels by modern authors, in which a strong, inspirational and average looking woman learns life’s lessons in exaggerated circumstances.


I am glad that I had no idea that this book was about the war, as I am almost certain I would not have read it. I am embarrassed to say that, whilst I am grateful for everything that was done to defend our country, I have no real interest in imagining the horror or reading about the pain. Not because I thought it would hurt me, but because, I believed, it would be dull and unnecessarily dramatically written. It is a set of circumstance which happened many, many years before I was born, that I was forced to learn about in order to pass exams throughout several stages of my education, and an event which is stereotypically rambled on about by the older generation. It has never occurred to me to stop and think about it properly. To admire the men who gave their lives for us as actual individuals instead of merely a group of soldiers.

Never have I ever had my opinion shifted so violently. Faulks did not just bewitched me with his simple but spectacular tale until the very last page, but he also dragged me from my ignorance regarding literacy and the boringness of the war. This is a tale of young men who gave their lives away, loved each other and lost their friends. It is about heartache, bravery and an almost incomprehensible passion for the freedom of people they have never met.

Never have I thought so deeply about what it must have been like to have been a young man on the front line. But when I discovered in part two that the main protagonist Stephen, who I had already been forced to fall in love with in part one of the novel, was fighting in France in the first world war, I succumbed to imagining what it must have felt to be a man like him.

I am not a man. Nor have I ever fought in a war. Still, as Stephen slept in trenches and watched his friends die, Faulks made sure I stood right there by his side. And when he climbed a ladder over the top of the trench into no mans land and marched toward the enemy lines I felt as though I was walking right beside him.

“To his left Stephen saw men trying to emerge from the trench but being smashed by bullets before they could stand. The gaps in the wire became jammed with bodies.”

Through this novel, I suddenly became aware that men as young as my brother and as old as my father once willingly walked into a hail of bullets and gave their lives just so that we could survive. Its over spoken an cliched, but once I was given the chance to actually stop and think about it, I felt overwhelmingly proud of them and incredibly sad.

“Of 800 men in the battalion who had gone over the parapet, 155 answered their names.”

I believe utterly that Sebatian Faulks anticipated my response. And so ingeniously he gave us the character Elizabeth, Stephens granddaughter and inhabitant of the 1970’s. When she is introduced, she knows less than we do about her grandfather, and, though I was slightly agitated to have been dragged away from 1916 and the action, I was excited for her to discover what he had been like.

I thought then about an image my grandmother has in her bedroom of her father in military uniform. He died before I was born and, like Elizabeth in the beginning, I view him merely as a piece of history. He is not a man, or a dad or a brother. I would never have known the difference between him being the person he was or someone else. He has impacted little on my life, and only ever been a passing thought or a brief mention in a conversation. When I read Birdsong it made me sit and wonder. What might he have seen? Who was this man and what had he known? And interestingly - What will my own great grandchildren think about me? Will they know of me? If they do will they be proud? It is frightening to think that I might be responsible for a whole line of people who, in the end, know nothing about me and care very little.

I decided to ask my Grandmother about her dad. Agitated by the fact that I did not even know his name, I did not want to draw attention to the fact that I had never thought to ask her about him, so I started by asking her if he had fought in the war. It turns out he had. His name is Harry, he was born in 1911 and he was in the navy. Through Birdsong, I found myself thinking about a history which happened not very long ago and was a reality for as close as three generations ago. It stimulated my curiosity and made me want to learn.

I do not believe I have the imagination or the writing ability to communicate clearly enough what a beautiful string of words Birdsong is. I was disappointed to reach the end, partly because I did not want it to end, and partly because the end was slightly rushed. I wanted to know in as much detail of the rest of his life how Stephen’s ended. I wanted to know further the intricacies of his mind and how he lived out his life.

Ultimately, this novel is a story of raw, brave and unabashed love. So detailed, truthful and descriptive is this text that I felt intrusive and embarrassed on several occasions whilst reading it. I blushed so profusely on one particular train journey that I never dared read it again on public transport. That is not to say I wouldn’t have liked to. If it had been up to me I would never had put it down.

Sunday, 27 March 2011

Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding


An Exceptionally Good Book...

After reading Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code, I was perturbed to realise that I had no choice but to read Helen Fielding's 'Bridget Jones's Diary' next. We had only a limited number of BBC recommended novels in the house and, unfortunately for me, my housemate Catherine had already laid claim to 'Birdsong' by Sebastian Faulks.

Still, I turned the first page with optimism and enthusiasm, assuring myself that reading a book about a women so geniously portrayed by Renee Zellweger in the 2001 smash hit movie of the same title, would at least be an experience. I love that movie. And I was right.

Bridget Jones's diary can in no way be described as literary genius in a complicated sense. It is a cleverly concocted and realistic piece of writing which most single women in their twenties and thirties can relate to, with a few ludicrous and inane storylines thrown in for dramatic effect.

But its genius is exactly that. I doubt there are many women who cannot relate to certain aspects of Fielding's witty writing.

Though I did not find myself laughing out loud as often as I would have liked, there were certain aspects of Bridget's life I found myself nodding in recognition of.

Who has not fallen for an idiot of man? We can all relate to Bridget's completely understandable but extremely unsensible obsession with her boss Daniel Clever, a man who is clearly cheating on her from the very beginning, but is so devastatingly sexy that the very idea he might fancy her leaves her deluded beyond belief. Of course he is using her. Of course he dumps her for a fit American. Of course her friends act as though they are surprised about it as she is.

Which of us can honestly say that we have not marvelled at the ever-changing digits on our scales, which see our weight fluctuate up and down within range of just four pounds within hours? I have more than once been seen to weigh myself, take some clothes off, weigh myself, have a wee, weigh myself again and not lose a single pound, only to stand on the scales the next day and have put on two.

And as for the mother... I had a conversation with my own mother recently which went something like this. "Mam, why is there cauliflower on my plate?"
"Because you like cauliflower?"
"No, I don't like cauliflower."
"Yes you do!"
Though everyone's mother may not be quite as dramatic as Bridget's, I think we can all say it is the exercised right of a mum to tell you what you like, who you should fancy, what you should wear...

"Eventually, I manage to cheer Mum up by allowing her to go through my wardrobe and criticize all my clothes..."

As a light read, Bridget Jones's Diary is brilliance. A hilarious insight into the life of a middle-class British woman, it is a story of an insatiable desire not to accept second best, an unwavering belief in true love and a tireless tale of real friendship. If you have seen the film you have by no means read the book. A worthy read from a gifted and intelligent writer with obvious first person insight into the hearts and minds of middle  aged women everywhere.

Sunday, 13 February 2011

The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown

Bloggy, bloggy, blog, blog

Unlike the authors I am going to review, I did not have a team of clever publishers inspiring me to write intriguing titles, and so the header of my first review is intentionally boring. Much like the appellation that is 'The Da Vinci Code'.

I think I can speak for most 22-year-old women when I say that Dan Brown's people did not give this masterpiece a particularly androgynous title. The word code hints at unnecessary complication and implies a difficult read, and the reference to Da Vinci suggests that this is a novel aimed at those with at least some basic knowledge of art. To my surprise, I found every presumption I had about this book and about Dan Brown as an author to be completely unfounded.

Having once walked in on the end of the film adaptation I was aware of the epic twist at the end, which I believe drastically detracted from my experience. Still, I would rate Dan Brown's most famous prose as one of the most intelligent and absorbing books I have ever read.

Aware of the impact this cleverly assembled tale will have on the reader, he reassures us of the legitimacy of his research before the prologue on page 17.

"All descriptions of artwork, architecture, documents and secret rituals in this novel are accurate."

Promising authenticity so blatantly at the beginning of this work was a wise decision. This book is constructed almost entirely of expertly arranged historic facts, stitched together by the developing relationship between a beautiful Cryptologist, Sophie Neveu, and Professor of Religious Symbology at Harvard, Robert Langdon.

The two are thrown together when the curator of the Louvre Museum in Paris, Jacques Sauniere, is murdered. Desperate to pass on the world's best kept secret to his estranged granddaughter Sophie, Jacques strips naked and, before he bleeds to death, arranges himself in the shape of Da Vinci's Vetruvian Man. To ensure the involvement of Paris' cryptology department, he scrawls a random sequence of numbers and Robert Langdon's name beside his body in invisible ink. Desperate for a swift arrest to redeem his legendary status within the police force, ageing Captain Bezu Fache looks no further past the use of Langdon's name than incrimination, and sets out for a swift arrest.

Thus ensues a furious quest to discover the secret Sophie's grandfather lost his life to keep. With no promises that it will prove Robert Langdon's innocence, they embark on a nail biting journey, trailed not only by the menacing Captain Fache, but also by a ruthlessly religious albino monk named Silas.

I worried that I might not be able to follow a complicated storyline, or that the book may require a basic knowledge of art and religion. But Brown obviously wrote this book for everyone. He explains every shred of evidence he uses to verify his story so concisely that the reader cannot help but feel enlightened.

One of Brown's more interesting, and pointless, pieces of information includes the phenomena that is the number 1.618, or 'Phi'. Hailed as 'the Divine Proportion', the number, Brown correctly informs us, displays itself at a ratio of 1.618 to 1 within plants, humans and animals with regularity that cannot be coincidental.

"And did you know that if you divide the number of female bees by the number of male bees in any beehive in the world, you always get the same number?"

Despite its presence within SoPHIe's name being its only relevance within the story, I found myself far from irritated by Brown's apparent determination to include every slither of intellect he possesses into his book. In fact, I could not help but be enthralled by his dedication to saturate me with facts I would otherwise never have known. Did you know that 'the distance from the top of your head to the floor divided by the distance of your belly button to the floor is Phi? As is the distance of your shoulder to your fingertips divided by distance from your elbow to your fingertips. And your measurements from hip to floor divided by knee to floor. No matter who you are or what your proportions. Incredible. And true.

Dan Brown simplifies what could be an impossible adventure and makes it enjoyable not only for men and women, but both the arty intelligent and the clueless. I have no problem admitting that I am the latter. I made no fewer than twenty Google searches inspired by the facts Dan Brown displayed for me within 'The Da Vinci Code'. I found myself tapping 'Madonna on the Rocks', 'The Last Supper', 'Priory of Sion' and 'Opus Dei' into search engines. Brown combines absurd truths witnessed and written throughout history with a beautiful story, and leaves the reader captivated and enhanced. Pleasently suprising and impeccably written, 'The Da Vinci Code' is a book for thrill seekers and romance lovers alike.