Whitstable by Stephen Volk

I wasn't exactly sure what to expect from this novella, but I was very intrigued by the sound of it. The author is a life-long Peter Cushing fan, and in this book he has created a tribute to his hero. It is a very moving story set immediately after the death of Cushing's beloved wife Helen. His grief is all-consuming and seems set to destroy what's left of the man, until a chance encounter with a young lad forces Cushing back into the world.

The opening part of the story is a heartbreaking portrayal of desperate grief. Life means nothing, is nothing, without Helen to share it with. Cushing is broken, hunched and frail, hiding from well-meaning neighbours and friends. Even the postman's daily delivery causes him anguish; he might be forced to connect in some way with someone. But the fear of being intruded upon within his own home sends him out, down to the sea. Here, alone, he can indulge in memories of better times. It is here that the boy finds him.

Like everyone in Whitstable the boy, Carl, knows him. Although to Carl he is Van Helsing, vampire hunter. And that is a very fortunate thing, because Carl is under attack from a predatory vampire who steals into his room nightly. This vampire is his soon-to-be stepfather, and Carl would like Van Helsing to destroy the monster before it's too late. Cushing is disturbed by the encounter, enough to investigate a little further into the kind of man Carl is living with.

What develops is a beautifully-paced story about the monstrous side of human nature. It unfolds without any haste, and there is a lot packed into the hundred or so pages. Cushing's gentlemanly character is brought out, his impeccable manners and sense of decency are lovingly drawn. Les, the bogeyman of the piece, is also given a humanity despite his obvious guilt. Volk uses plenty of film references, giving them to Cushing to draw strength and inspiration from. I thought this was very nicely done. There is also a scene set in a cinema where the action on-screen is intercut with that going on in the stalls, which works so well. The idea of a real-life horror dragging a horror actor back to life is splendid, and has a slightly twisted redemptive quality.

At times I found Whitstable unbearably sad, but it also holds out the possibility of hope. It's an affecting story, well worth the time invested in reading it. The image of an honourable man will long endure.

Whitstable is available to order in Paperback from Spectral Press. My thanks to the publisher for sending me an advance eBook for review.

Brothers' Fury by Giles Kristian

Hooray, the second book in Kristian's civil wars saga is here!

Brothers' Fury is the sequel to The Bleeding Land, published last summer. The story revolves around the Rivers family and their part in the civil wars that wracked Britain during the 1640s. Although I think it is possible to read Brothers' Fury without having read The Bleeding Land first, I personally wouldn't recommend doing it. The first part of the saga is fantastic; I reviewed it here. It's a gripping read and the background to why the two Rivers' brothers end up on opposing sides is such a fundamental part of the story that to miss out is to do the series a disservice. I'll stop trying to persuade you to read two books instead of just one now, and focus on Brothers' Fury!

It opens at the beginning of 1643 with both Mun and Tom battling their own demons. Mun, Sir Edmund Rivers, is a die-hard Royalist but his experiences on the battlefield and on his own estate have hardened and embittered him. Death and destruction are no longer abstract concepts and he is driven by a desire for revenge as much as duty now. Tom's actions were driven by vengeance all along. A Parliamentarian by circumstance rather than conviction, I think, he's earned his nickname Black Tom. Back from the dead he is more angry and determined than ever to avenge the woman he loved. In everything he is motivated by his hatred of Lord Denton.

In this book a third Rivers sibling sets out on a journey of their own. Bess can no longer bear the rift between the brothers and wants to bring them together once again. She carries her own grief and loss, and it is perhaps this that impels her to leave her newborn son behind and travel the dangerous roads accompanied by only a young servant. She surely gets more than she bargained for along the way, but the Rivers' blood is infused with fortitude.

Much of the action takes place on the battlefield; 1643 was a bloody year. The fighting is brutal and gory (and as with The Bleeding Land I warn you that horses die). Swords glance off buff-coats, musket balls impact breast-plates, limbs are severed, bodies are reduced to pulp. The battle-scenes are frenzied and chaotic, punctuated by periods of agonising tension awaiting the order to fire or charge. Some of my favourite parts took place away from the heat of battle, although contained no less danger. Both brothers are dragged from their increasingly renegade ways and charged with leading a secret mission. Tom's is to take a small group to Oxford, the Royalist stronghold, and deal with a major thorn in the Parliamentarian's side. Following orders isn't always his greatest strength, especially if there's a chance to forward his own agenda. Mun has to take his Shear House men and steal a cannon. From his own side. I loved the layers of subterfuge, loyalty, and authority at play in these parts.

There are also a couple of great new characters, who I hope survive long enough to appear in the third book. Bess gets an unwelcome protector in the shape of Dane, a hard-drinking hard-fighting man, loyal to his purse. She finds him abominable, but I adore him! Mun finds himself saddled with a green young lad, Jonathan, desperate to escape his father's yoke and prove himself. He's got great potential too. I said I hope we get to see them again, but nothing is certain. Brothers' Fury ends on such a cliffhanger it's almost cruel. Nobody's fate is certain, except perhaps Lord Denton's. Scumbag in the first book, deranged in the second. There's a sword coming for him, mark my words!

Brothers' Fury is out today in Hardback, thank you very much to the publisher for sending me an advance copy for review. The Bleeding Land is available in Paperback.

A Wolf in Hindelheim by Jenny Mayhew

Something was happening in this place where nothing happened.

So, it might be a cliché to say that a novel from the very first line entranced me, but I promise it is true in this case. A Wolf in Hindelheim is a perfect mix of great storytelling, beautiful writing, intriguing characters, and a touch of quirkiness. It is set in the fictional village of Hindelheim in southwest Germany in 1926. As the quote above suggests, it is a quiet uneventful place, still isolated, just, from the advances of modernity. The new road under construction means we are glimpsing the last days of this ‘old’ world.

There are many strands to the story but the central event is a missing baby. The Constable and his deputy are summoned to the Koenig household to take the report. Constable Theodore Hildebrandt is a troubled man; within the first few pages we find him telling his reflection that he is not afraid of it. This is a lie. He is troubled physically by the appalling injuries he suffered at war. His body is neither whole nor wholly his own. His mind rebels against his circumstances; petty rivalries with his superiors, power struggles within his own household, the futility of resistance. This case brings out the best and worst in the man.

From the initial report the story spins out. Theo makes enquiries about the case that are beyond his remit as a lowly constable. The tension and friction between him and those he works for and with is increased by the sensitive nature of this particular case. Theo is a man who has created his own morality, which fits imperfectly with his designated role. He thinks too much and too independently to be a reliable cog in the wheels of authority. His transgressions threaten not only his own position, but that of his son’s too. Klaus is son and deputy to Theo. With a wife and a baby on the way, Klaus wants to impress and progress. There is a clash between old and new ways of getting things done; by the book is the new way and Klaus can live with that.

The clash of cultures is a recurring theme. Progress bumps up against tradition in many ways. Backward looking superstition and forward thinking rationality battle it out too. Although whether believing in wolfmen is more odd than putting faith in eugenics is just one of the ways in which the ambiguities of progress are drawn out. Hysteria is whipped up by the media in ways that are both very modern and look back to the heyday of pamphleteering and chapbooks. The suspicions about the local shopkeeper Elias Frankel are both a product of historic fears and new politically-inspired ones. I loved the way the tension between the past and future was displayed.

This novel has so much contained within it, there’s even a tentative and touching love story (or stories), that it is hard to do it any justice in a review. It is beautifully written, held me in its grasp throughout, and left me the richer for reading it. It’s about individuals, and communities, and societies. It’s about folklore and politics, desires and convictions, right and wrong – and the often small steps in between them.

A Wolf in Hindelheim is available now in Hardback; thank you very much to the publisher for sending an advance copy to me.

Carnegie Award 2013 Shortlist: A Greyhound of a Girl

I'm sad to say I didn't much enjoy A Greyhound of a Girl. I liked the idea but was not so keen on the book as a whole. The story is about four generations of the same family and how they connect and find peace with their circumstances. On the back of the edition I read it tells us that one of the four is dead, and that for me was the first problem. What could have been a topic of uncertainty and suspense in the early stages of the novel is given away before you even start.

There were some things I thought were good, for example I enjoyed Tansey's story about her life. It was interesting to glimpse her time on the farm, and I wish there had been more of that. I also enjoyed the way the story changed perspective between the four characters. The opening chapter, consisting of just a few lines, is very effective I think; powerful in its brevity. But, I did not get on with several aspects of the book. I didn't especially like Mary, the youngest of the group. I don't think it is necessary to always like a character but I think the problem here is that she doesn't seem real. Some of the things she says and thinks didn't ring true for me, particularly parts about growing up. I also got incredibly frustrated by the repeated references to her mum, Scarlett, talking in exclamation marks all the time. As a final example of my not-so-great aspects of the book, I didn't think the ghost road trip worked very well either.

I hate to be so negative and I probably wouldn't normally have reviewed this if it hadn't been on the Carnegie list. I can't honestly say I would recommend A Greyhound of a Girl, which is a shame because I still think the central theme of the book is a good one.

Big Brother by Lionel Shriver

I was very excited about reading the latest novel by Lionel Shriver for a couple of reasons. Firstly because I thought We Need to Talk About Kevin was an excellent book. The structure is brilliant, it has a shocking twist, deals with controversial topics, and employs one of my favourite literary devices – the unreliable narrator. Secondly, Big Brother’s topic chimes very nicely with my own academic interests. I’m deeply interested in eating and not eating, how our choices are influenced by wider societal trends, and the ways in which narratives about such choices and behaviours are constructed. My own research is focused on the period 1600-1800, but my interest is all encompassing. A novel about obesity in contemporary society is hugely appealing.

Pandora grew up in a family dominated by her sit-com actor father and his need for public acclaim. Losing her mother in tragic circumstances threw her and brother Edison closer together, until he fled the family home for the bright lights of the New York jazz scene. Unlike her father or brother, Pandora has strived for anonymity. She nearly succeeded, but her most recent business venture has given her a modicum of fame. She still downplays her achievements and looks up to her big brother though. When she hears from one of Edison’s friends that he has hit a bit of a rut she is keen to help out. She invites Edison to stay with her and her family. It’ll be a complete change of scene for him, out in the quiet fields of Iowa.

Not recognising Edison at the airport is a massive shock. Her normally slim sexy brother is utterly transformed by the weight he has gained. Pandora struggles to find the face she knows and loves. He is more than twice the size he was when she last saw him. The change is obvious, but remains unvoiced for some time. There is a reluctance to address what has happened to cause such a major change in Edison’s life. Apart from his eating habits he is fundamentally the same opinionated braggart he always was, winding Pandora’s husband Fletcher up and causing chaos in their well-structured lives. After two months of pussyfooting around Edison and his predicament Pandora is forced to choose between her brother and her husband. Edison needs help but cannot remain living with them all; if Pandora wants to help him lose weight she’ll have to leave the family home too.

The second half of the book examines the dieting process, detailing the hunger, boredom and tedium of doing it for the long haul. Edison has a lot of weight to lose to get back to his ‘usual’ size. Pandora feels that she has gained a few too many pounds recently, and goes on a diet too. Fletcher being a complete health-freak-convert undoubtedly exacerbates her situation. Her husband doesn’t come out of the story too well at times. His brown rice and fanatical cycling is a bit holier-than-thou. Pandora cooks well, and rejecting her meals can’t help but seem a rejection of her. I don’t think he means it that way, but I wouldn’t want to live with such a puritan.

The book is about eating, dieting, and obesity but it seems to me to be at least equally as much about family, loyalty, and guilt. Pandora is torn between her two families. She can either be loyal to her brother, or to her husband and stepchildren. Neither family is a wholly comfortable place. Pandora and Edison bond other their self-centred father, but they both ignore their much younger sister. Fletcher never seems certain whether the kids are ‘his’ or ‘theirs’, and consequently the relationships are always slightly strained. Pandora plays piggy in the middle, a role she has adopted from a young age. The comparisons with the sit-com family, her father’s sole hit role, are nicely drawn throughout the novel.

There are lots of things I admired in the book, and I was drawn into the story quickly. Shriver has given the way we think about fat and fat bodies now much thought, and I think Big Brother adds to the discussion currently going on in fat studies. The confusion and revulsion it stirs in people, with associations of sloth and lack of hygiene, are all here. Unfortunately, in some ways, Edison as a character does little to challenge the stereotypes. He is a slob, stuffing his face constantly, making a mess, breaking stuff, and with questionable personal hygiene. There is absolutely no fat pride here.

Ultimately, it didn’t entirely work for me. There is a rather climactic and unexpected ending, which I hated. Up until the final section I was happy to go along with it, and it is beautifully written, as you would expect from Shriver. I still think it is well worth reading, but I am left a little deflated both from the resolution and from what I found a not critical enough dissection of the diet industry and the assumptions on which our ideas of health are based. I was hoping for something more radical, unfairly probably. It might strike odd, but I will read the book again to take a closer look at the ideas about weight. I’d also love to read it as a book club pick, the discussions would undoubtedly be very lively.

I read this book in a proof copy I was sent when I was still at Waterstones. It is available now from HaperCollins in Hardback.

Doll Bones by Holly Black

Be prepared to get scared!

This is a brilliant creepy story. I loved it so much that I read it all in one go, from start to finish without stopping once!

Zach, Poppy and Alice are best friends. They love playing together, inventing stories with their toys as the main characters. They adore using their imaginations to come up with different worlds full of pirates and mermaids, outlaws and queens. Well, one queen actually, played by the china-faced doll kept locked in Poppy's mum's glass cabinet. She's old and scary looking, perfect for reigning over their games. Unfortunately, Zach's dad thinks playing with dolls and stuff is a bit babyish; his decision to get rid of all Zach's figures has some very unintended consequences. Obviously, Zach is devastated at losing his toys and he feels that he may lose his friends as well. But, when the queen visits Poppy in a dream the three friends have to work together to solve the mystery. Poppy believes the doll was a real girl once, who now needs their help to be laid to rest.

The trio embark on a great adventure. As they try to work out what the doll wants from them, and whether Poppy is telling the truth, they encounter many obstacles in their way. There are interfering and odd adults, strange occurrences, and travel disruptions. The kids' need to use their initiative and trust in their friendship. They get themselves into some tricky situations, and there are some hair-rasing moments. For me, the combination of adventure story with a supernatural element was very exciting.

If I gave out star ratings this would be a definite 5 star book. I loved reading it now as an adult, and I would have loved it if I'd read it as a child too. So, if you dare, read this book and join in the adventure.

Thank you to the publisher for sending me a copy of Doll Bones, it was thoroughly appreciated. The book is out now in Hardback.

Carnegie Medal Shortlist 2013: Wonder by R.J. Palacio

I read Wonder last year when it first came out. I was absolutely blown away by the story; I adored Auggie and the book’s message about kindness. This is what I wrote about it then:

“This is an outstanding novel, truly beautiful and moving. August's facial deformity means that his life is characterized by the double-take as people register his unusual looks. He understands why they do this, but it's still awful to deal with every time he meets someone new. Attending school for the first time could be traumatic then. Being the new kid can be tough at the best of times, and Auggie does certainly go through it. He has an amazing family to help him out, and a wonderful Head Teacher whose maxim encouraging everyone to practice being a little kinder than necessary is such a lovely sentiment. How much better a place to live the world would be if we all followed his advice.

Auggie's first year at school is told from a variety of perspectives; his friends and family get a say as well as Auggie himself. I love the way this gives a more rounded story. It is a story about tolerance, hope and understanding. It is a teary read at times, but I finished it feeling uplifted, happier and very thankful for friends and family.”

I still feel the same way about Wonder; I think it is a wonderful book. Being reminded to be kind never goes amiss. I hope lots of people of all ages continue to read this story for many years to come.