GREAT READS FOR AUGUST 2012
Bring
up the Bodies, by Hilary Mantel
Henry has tired of Anne;
she is no longer the sparkling, mercurial young temptress he pursued
obsessively for so many years; her
youthful bloom has gone; she is
ill-tempered and shrewish, and worst of all there is no male heir to secure the
throne for the Tudors. She produced a
daughter, Elizabeth, and whilst the king professes to love his little girl –
and his daughter Mary from Katherine of Aragon, he is becoming more
disenchanted with Anne by the day: where
is the son she promised him?
He starts to look
elsewhere, and once his gaze settles on Jane Seymour, Anne’s lady-in-waiting, it
is Cromwell’s task to procure an annulment of his second marriage by whatever
means available – and for a man of Cromwell’s huge intellect and reach, there
are many.
Hilary Mantel won the Man
Booker Prize in 2009 for ‘Wolf Hall’, (see review below) her marvellous account
of Henry’s ardent courtship of Anne and
his growing dependence on Thomas Cromwell, a commoner, a nobody guided up
through the strata of power by Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, the best powerbroker in
England and a fitting mentor for an ambitious man: now, in this riveting sequel, Cromwell must
deconstruct the fragile legal framework he built to surround the marriage of
Henry and Anne, and find opposite legal reasons as to why that marriage should end.
And as countless
historical records tell us, Cromwell procured witnesses aplenty to testify to
Anne’s supposed adultery with several courtiers favoured by the King, and worse
still, incest with her brother: a show
trial is conducted in the Tower of London and all the accused are
executed; Anne is beheaded four days
later, and Henry is free once again to wed his next love, Jane Seymour.
It gives this reader great
pleasure to say that Book two is superb;
Ms Mantel’s characterisations are utterly convincing and she recreates
time and place with consummate skill. Her
depictions of the power struggles between Thomas Cromwell –‘a jumped-up nobody’
– and the conniving, treacherous courtiers derisive of his lowly origins (for
they are gentlemen all, and he is NOTHING) is masterly: he exacts revenge in many ingenious
ways. I look forward to Book three – I
know there will be a third book; Ms
Mantel cannot leave us in suspense with the story only half told. Highly recommended.
Wolf
Hall, by Hilary Mantel Reviewed
October, 2009.
Thomas Cromwell: Blacksmith, mercenary, international banker,
cloth merchant, lawyer, indispensable assistant to the powerful English clergy
– and king’s confidante: at a court full
of the powerful and the power-hungry, this layman of uncertain origins came to
wield more influence with Henry VIII than all his royal dukes combined. It was Cromwell who was the main architect in
drafting the Reformation laws separating the English church from Rome, enabling
the king to claim the wealth of the catholic monasteries and religious houses
as his own, and finally abolishing the need for the Pope’s permission for the
annulment of Henry’s marriage to Katherine of Aragon. Brilliant, loyal Cromwell engineered for
Henry the king’s heart’s desire:
marriage to Anne Boleyn.
Hilary Mantel recreates
admirably the pomp, intrigue and
hypocrisy of the time and the struggles for European dominance by the rulers of
France, Spain and England, but most of all she breathes wonderful life into
some of the most famous and notorious characters in history: their stories have been told many times
before but seldom so convincingly, or so well.
And it has just been
announced that Ms. Mantel has won the Man Booker Prize for 2009 for Wolf Hall. There can be no greater recommendation.
Inside
Out & Back again, by Thanha Lai
Junior fiction
The year is
1975. Saigon has fallen and the city is
roiling with people trying to escape the North Vietnamese. Ten year-old Ha and her three brothers have
previously enjoyed a privileged life with their parents; their father was a naval officer who has been
missing in action for some time, but they all still believe that one day he
will return – until the war is lost and the Americans leave everyone to their
fate. Fortunately for the family, one of their father’s naval friends manages
to smuggle them onto a ship that escapes the bombs and artillery fire,
eventually delivering the refugees to Americans who bring them to a refugee
camp on the island of Guam; there they
stay until sponsors are found for each family to bring them to the U.S.A.
Now their ‘new life of freedom’ begins: in the course of the year this story covers
the family must deal with racism – they are sent to Alabama in the deep South –
must learn a language that to Ha is
‘full of ‘S’s – did they all want to talk like snakes?’; must
deal with a new religion, baptism being the ticket to acceptance in
their community (Ha-Li-Lu-Da!); must start school and ‘change from smart to
dumb’ because of the mysteries of the English language; must depend on the donated cast-offs of everything from the neighbourhood; (Ha
wears a warm flannel dress to school when the weather is cold; she is unaware that it is a nightgown) and ultimately
have to bear the taunts and name-calling that she can soon understand all too
well: ‘Pancake Face’, and BU-DA, BU-DA
when she tries to explain about her country’s religion. No:
some children are not kind to
those who are different, and Ha and her brothers must learn how to defend
themselves as best they can. And they
do!
This is a beautiful little story, written entirely in
blank verse, eloquent and powerful in its imagery and a book that should become
a modern classic, read by children of ALL ages.
‘Inside Out & Back Again’ is a work of fiction,
but Thanha Lai experienced exactly the same culture shock that Ha and her
family did, at the same time: she writes
most beautifully from experience, and has produced a story that should make
everyone think twice when next they hear of refugees arriving on their shores. This wonderful little book has already won
two prestigious Children’s Literary awards in America; It deserves more. Highly recommended.
Edge
of Dark Water, by Joe R. Lansdale
Suellen’s Daddy is one such man; he and his Good Ole
Boy friends poison fish during the day and drink at night, then Suellen has to
lock her bedroom door and sleep with a knife;
she is sixteen now and loathes the way her Daddy looks at her. Her mother is worse than useless, lying in
bed all day in a ‘Cure-All’ stupor.
Life, and the mess she has made of it so far, has utterly defeated her. Fortunately, Suellen has three good friends,
May Lynn, so beautiful she dreams of going to Hollywood to be a movie star,
Terry, a pretty boy everyone calls a sissy, and Jinx, a black girl far too
sassy for her own good – ‘Don’t that nigger know her place?’. Their loyalty to each other and vague dreams
of a happier future sustain them until May Lynn is found dead in the local pond,
tied with wire and weighted down with a sewing machine.
They also discover that May Lynn knew the whereabouts
of a secret stash of money that her late brother, a thief, had hidden – oh,
this plot is thickening so much the spoon is standing all by itself! – and in
their efforts to find the loot, the three friends fall foul of May Lynn’s evil
Daddy, not to mention Suellen’s. It’s
time to leave their homes in a hurry – and they do, by hijacking a raft and
poling it down the Sabine river, hoping to make the next big town before their
pursuers can figure out where – and how – they are travelling.
In true Huck Finn fashion they – and Suellen’s
mother, who has found the gumption and requisite willpower to leave her ugly
existence – keep moving, stopping here and there to cast themselves on the kindness
of various strangers and surviving reasonably well until they hear that May
Lynn’s Daddy has enlisted the horrendous services of Skunk, so called because
that’s how he smells, to recover the money and despatch them all to the
hereafter.
Up until now, none of the locals really believed that
there was a Skunk – his reputation and tales of his savagery were so awful that
everyone thought he was a ghastly invention of parents to scare their children
into being good: unfortunately for the
hapless raft-dwellers, Skunk is all too real, and he is coming for them.
I have read a number of Mr. Lansdale’s books, and
while there is a certain similarity in characters and places, he is always
entertaining and savvy enough for the reader to look forward to the next novel.
He is a smart and intelligent writer and he has a very nice line in description
i.e. ‘Uncle Gene was fat as a hog but without the personality’. Don’t that all just sum it up!
Does Skunk lay waste to our fearful, courageous
little band or not? There’s only one way
to find out. Yep, read and enjoy this
great little story.
.
The
Hanging Shed, by Gordon Ferris
Donovan’s war has been cruel – he was the rear gunner
on a bomber that was blown up by the Luftwaffe;
he survived but wishes he hadn’t:
his injuries have made him into a nightmare figure, and the resultant
pain has turned him into a junkie. He
doesn’t care if he dies, but he does care that people know that he couldn’t,
WOULDN’T commit the crime of which he is accused.
In his pre-war life, Brodie was a Detective with the
Glasgow Police Force; he is ideally
qualified to delve into the evidence both real and manufactured that he is
presented with by Donovan’s despairing lawyer:
the question is, does he want to do this favour for his old
nemesis? He loathes Donovan for calling
on the far-off memories of staunch childhood friendship, and loathes himself
even more for not being able to put past treachery behind him.
Unfortunately as the story progresses, Mr. Ferris
allows his story to get away from him
like a stampeding horse; plot twists
vary from unbelievable to bizarre to say the least – the villains are so awful
they are almost comic-book caricatures, but he is a wonderfully acute observer
of his fellow man, and I defy anyone not to recognise thee and me in the
utterly authentic characters he creates.
He can set a scene with the best of them and generate enough action to
make me feel that I shall be doing a disservice to myself If I don’t check out
his other titles. So many books, so
little time!
Pegasus
and the Flame, by Kate O’Hearn Junior Fiction
What a lovely s
tory - and what a great introduction to the Greek Myths for
children who would not otherwise come in contact with these marvellous legends. Kate O’Hearn is doing more than she can
possibly know to stimulate children’s interest in the timeless and ancient
tales of the Gods and Heroes of Olympus, and I couldn’t approve more,
especially with the amount of excitement she can generate in her plotting and
her true blue characters.
Emily Jacobs is 13 years old. She is trying to deal with the loss of her
beloved mother who died of cancer three months before. Her father is a member of the New York City
Police force, and he has to leave Emily alone on a night when a particularly
bad storm is raging. She is not really
afraid of being alone; her grief troubles
her more than solitude – until she hears thumping and bumping on the ceiling,
and it is even more worrying when the plaster starts to crack and flake! Now, if that were me I would rush to the
bedroom and hide under the bed, but Emily is brave enough to go up onto the
roof to find out what – or who – is going to crash through to her level. (Obviously she is braver than this mere
mortal!) And what does she find but a beautiful horse, breathtaking in its
magnificence, and even more unbelievable:
it has WINGS. And it’s badly
wounded. How can she help him,
especially when she realises that he is Pegasus, beloved of the Gods, and
bearer of Zeus/Jupiter’s thunderbolts.
Pegasus has come to earth to search for ‘The Flame’, a descendant of Vespa, keeper of the Sacred
Flame of Olympus, now extinguished by enemies.
If it is not reignited soon, Olympus and all the Gods will perish.
Ah, this is thrilling, and things get better and
better as the plot advances – the characters are positively Olympian in more
ways than one; Ms. O’Hearn has an
excellent knowledge of Greco-Roman
mythology and she weaves this brilliantly into her story of young people
dealing with grief and loss, not to mention her love of animals, particularly
horses – and even better still, the story doesn’t end with this book: the next title is ‘Pegasus and the Fight for
Olympus’. What a neat treat to look
forward to: can’t wait.
The 2008 financial crash has left everyone reeling,
not least the family of Trevelyan-Tubal, patrician investment bankers who have
owned and operated their iconic bank, Tubal’s in the City of London, for more
than 400 years. They have taken a huge
hit with the failure of one of their hedge funds – ‘but I paid Seven million
quid to a Nobel Laureate to tell me that mathematically, our investments
couldn’t fail!’ shrieks Julian, current head of the bank in the absence of his
older brother, (no banker’s life for him:
he travels the world looking for adventure á
la Bear Grylls) and the incapacitation of his father, Sir Harry, by a massive
stroke. Julian is extremely unhappy in
his role as default family and business head, and does what he considers he
must to prop up the bank until it can be sold (he hopes) to a huge American
investment bank owned by Cy Mannheim, a self-made man if ever there was one,
and don’t you forget it! ‘I came from
NOTHING on Coney Island – now look at me:
amazing, huh?’ What else must a
chap do but agree, especially if he wants Cy to buy the old Firm – so that Julian
can pay back all the family and investment trusts he has raided to make the
bank look solvent for the scrutiny of due diligence by the various authorities.
Needless to say, the best-laid plans of mice and men
go right down the tubes; a computer
hacker does his stuff, steals incriminating evidence of financial wrongdoing,
then leaks it to a young blogger for an obscure Cornish newspaper; various people great and small begin to make
enquiries as to why their subsidies from various Tubal charitable trusts are no
longer going into their bank accounts; and
Sir Harry’s much younger Trophy wife Fleur is feeling more than a little
insecure. She is astute enough to know
that Sir Harry’s sons have never really accepted her into the family, and now,
as Sir Harry’s death occurs from a second stroke she is terrified that her
affair with Morné, her personal trainer and a hairy, sexually fascinating
(to Fleur) South African rugby player will be discovered. She could end up with nothing at the age of
43 – it doesn’t bear thinking about!
What to do, what to do?
For all Mr. Cartwright’s drollness – and there is
much delicious wit in this book; the
dialogue is incisive and sparkling – there is also a strong underlying lesson
to be learnt yet again, should anybody bother:
that even the richest, the most lofty in society can be brought down and
exposed for the rogues that they have become (however reluctantly, in Julian’s
case) by those who still have the honour lacking in their targets – and those
who wish they were just like them.
‘In the dealing rooms they would shout ‘OPM’
gleefully as a deal went bad: Other people’s money.’ Well, it’s not other people’s money now that
the Trevelyan-Tubal family are worried about (if they ever did): it’s their own, not to mention their
previously stellar and unsullied reputation .
Justin Cartwright serves up truth most beautifully as fiction. This was a pleasure to read.