Falling into Rarohenga, by Steph Matuku.    Young Adults.

           

            Tui and Kae are twins, and contrary to all the stories we hear about the close bonds of twins, that happy state doesn’t apply in this case:  Tui is a school prefect at the small-town high school they attend;  she’s a swot and gets consistently high marks in everything, the object of which is to get away from this little nothing place, get to the big city and eventually cover herself with academic glory.  Kae is just the opposite – who cares about good results, as long as he has his mates – and his ukulele, the source of his biggest pleasure, for if there’s one thing Kae worships, it’s music, and composing his own songs:  music is the most important thing in his life, certainly not his snobby sister, who is Nigel No-Friends because she’s too smart.

            Until they arrive home from school (fighting all the way) one day, to discover that their beloved Mum, their mainstay through the divorce of their  jailed fraudster Dad and the death from cancer of their darling aunt Huia, has disappeared without a trace – but what follows next is so unbelievable it can’t be happening:  what they at first thought was one of the frequent earthquakes that plague Aotearoa New Zealand turns out to be a summons from Aunty Huia in Rarohenga, the Maori Underworld:  they have to fall through the portal to look for their mother, who has been abducted by their father, of all people!  Only the intervention of the twins will save her from dying before her time and staying in Rarohenga.  Neither of their parents are meant to be there, but their father learnt some pretty dreadful magic from one of his cellmates;  now, he has his prize, their mother, and who cares about the twins?  They were only distractions to divert their mother’s attention from him. 

            There begins a series of hair-raising adventures for the twins, including meeting Hinekoruru, Goddess of Shadows;  a fearsome taniwha with paua-shell eyes and many sad memories;  and an unbelievably handsome fairy called a túrehu.  They all provide assistance for the twins’ quest, but all demand payment – in the túrehu’s case, it’s Tui’s hand in marriage.  To which she agrees, fervently hoping that she will be able to get back to the real world before she has to honour her promise – which, perhaps, would not be that bad:  he’s pretty damned hot!

            Once again, the author of ‘Flight of the Fantail’ delivers the goods:  an exciting, topical meld of today’s New Zealand with Maoritanga and its ancient myths and legends - and she does it so well. Twins Tui and Kae are heroes for the ages! SIX STARS.  

 

Pilgrims, by Matthew Kneale.

 

  

        In thirteenth century England, it was common for groups of people to make journeys to various holy places in expiation of their sins – which were usually decided by their local clergy, as was the punishment, length of journey and number of prayers to be said at each shrine, depending on the gravity of the sin.  Indeed, Sir John of Baydon has been forced  by the church authorities to walk all the way to Rome to pray for forgiveness for punching the local abbot, whom he swore was trying to steal land from him. 

            With wife Margaret reluctantly in tow, he joins a diverse and motley band who also have Rome as a destination:  there is Tom son of Tom, also known as simple Tom;  a kindly and truly simple young bondsman who is persuaded by his crafty family to become a pilgrim after his cat dies and he can’t stop dreaming about him (Tom’s absence will free up space in their hovel);  a prosperous farmer and his wife who pretend poverty;  a rich widow and her sickly little son who may die if they don’t reach Rome to pray to St. Peter at his mighty church for the boy’s salvation.  Her avaricious sister comes along ‘to help’, and as their journey progresses, more supplicants join their little band. After enduring a nightmare trip across the channel, they all feel that God has punished them enough:  surely their way to the Holy City will now be straightforward and uneventful.  (I’m very tempted to say ‘yeah, right! here.  Get thee behind me, Satan!)

            It is impossible for us who now live 800 years later to imagine the awful privation and physical sacrifices made by ordinary people, rich and poor, who were so sure that, were they able to reach their destination, their sins would disappear;  from Tom son of Tom hoping that his dear cat Sammo would get to heaven instead of plaguing his dreams, to religious zealot Matilda who is sure that when she gets to Rome, Jesus (with whom she converses all the time even though no-one else can see him) will give her a wonderful gift.  Because he said so!  And don’t forget those holier-than-thou women, mother and daughter, who are so pious they may be Jews in disguise:  vipers in the nest!

            Matthew Kneale makes a fine job of recreating the teeming times of the age;  the terrible superstitions (especially regarding Jews) that were wielded by clever, unscrupulous men in the name of religion to keep the populace in thrall;  and the irrefutable fact that regardless, human nature always prevails:  the Seven Deadly Sins will exist as long as does the human race.  We haven’t changed at all!  FIVE STARS.     

 

Falling, by T.J. Newman.

 

            Thriller writers, this is how it’s done:  a by-the-numbers, textbook example of suspense and impending doom on every page of T. J. Newman’s debut novel ‘ Falling’ – and she knows what’s she’s writing about:  she spent ten years of her life flying the friendly skies as a flight attendant;  no-one knows better than she how staff and passengers manage long-haul flights – or how they react to danger.

            Captain Bill Hoffman has been unexpectedly rostered on at the last minute to take a flight from Los Angeles to New York, leaving him very unpopular with his wife Carrie;  it’s their 10 year old son Scott’s first little-league game of the season and Bill promised he’d be there. To add to her displeasure their internet connection is down, and baby Elise is trying to walk – everywhere.  It’s not a good day!  Especially when he promised to be at home.  They part on very cool terms, just as the internet serviceman turns up;  well, thinks Bill, that’s something positive.

            Except that it isn’t.  For the internet repairman turns out to be a kidnapper, holding Bill’s little family hostage at gunpoint, with the object of forcing Bill to crash the plane with upwards of 150 souls on board:  if he refuses, his family will die – and he will be able to witness that unspeakable horror on his family’s newly restored internet link.

            T.J. Newman is skilful enough to have a compelling reason for the kidnapper to be taking such terrible steps to draw the world’s attention to his dreadful act:  internet repairman Sam is from Kurdistan, a country that the American President (unnamed) promised the world to if they would help his troops fight in Syria, only to leave the Kurds in the lurch by eventually withdrawing all American troops, and making all Kurds a defenceless target of chemical warfare, which killed hundreds of thousands of innocent villagers and townspeople – including Sam’s entire family.  And a prime example of Sam’s murderous determination is his Plan B if Bill refuses to crash the plane and kill everyone on board:  there is a traitor amongst them – but who?  Who will release poison gas first so that all passengers will die the horrendous death that Sam’s family suffered?  Well, no spoilers this end.

            This is a very impressive effort from T. J. Newman, not least because she has vast experience of the story she tells.  It’s a bit rough around the edges but what an amazing journey we travel with her.  Having said that, I reckon there’s a lot to be said for train travel.  The world should slow down so that that form of travel becomes profitable once more.  FIVE STARS.

           

 

The Perfect Lie, by Jo Spain.

 

   

         This is fast-food writing:  tasty but vitamin-free – fills the gap but has very little nutritional value.

            Having said that, Jo Spain’s latest thriller is well-plotted, well-researched and in this mad day and age, almost credible.  Her characters, while two-dimensional, still manage to carry the story along at a very fast pace, and I have to say that, clever as I think I am at figuring out WhoDunnit,  I never saw this particular ending coming.  If only we were able to travel again, this would be the perfect Airport and Beach read.  How the world has changed!

            And Irish Erin Kennedy’s life changed in the space of hours, from waking in the morning with her African American Detective Husband, preparing to go to her job as an editor for a Publishing firm, to the disintegration of her world when her husband is visited by his Police colleagues – who are there to arrest him for corruption and, instead of leaving with them, he flings himself to his death from their fourth-floor balcony.

It goes without saying that Erin’s husband had many secrets, and Erin had no idea of any of them;  she can’t believe that she could have been so woefully ignorant of his problems, but when someone doesn’t want their loved one to know things, they get very good at the cover-up, especially if one is a Detective.  Still, Erin owes it to herself and his family to try to expose the truth, whatever that may be;  she just hopes she will be brave enough to accept it, especially if it destroys completely her vision of the man she thought she knew and loved.

Until she finds herself on trial for murder –the murder of her husband, a crime too ludicrous even to contemplate, but Erin’s life has taken such a bizarre turn since her husband’s death that this is God just playing with her again:  having acknowledged that, can God stop faffing around and get her acquitted from this murder charge that will have her in prison for the rest of her life.  Please God.

Ms Spain tells a parallel story of minor characters in flashbacks that link up cleverly with the main protagonists by the time everything is done and dusted, but I wonder if she just got sick of her story (and/or Erin!) and couldn’t be bothered fleshing things out.  What a shame.  THREE STARS.      

 

We Germans, by Alexander Starritt.

 

 

           ‘What did you do in the war, Grandpa?’ was the classic question asked by all young offspring of their grandfathers after the Second World War, and some of the answers were horrifying, heart-stopping adventures, but told with verve and, if the memories weren’t too awful, depending on the age of the grandchild, related in the sure knowledge that they fought to liberate the world from Tyranny and Injustice, and a mad Leader who wanted to destroy civilisation.  For they were on the winning side.

            A young Scotsman asks his German Opa the same question;  Callum’s mother is German but he has been raised in Scotland and, despite being bilingual and having regular holidays with his German grandparents in Heidelberg, he sees himself as a countryman of the Winning Side:  when he asks the question of his Opa, it is in such a way that the old man is irritated and refuses to discuss his experiences.  Callum’s curiosity is not satisfied until after the old man’s death, when a letter from Opa is discovered, addressed to him, which relates in chilling detail exactly what Opa did in the war, the war that started so gloriously for hundreds of thousands of German troops marching East to Moscow, and ended with the starving remnants of those ‘invincible’ forces trying to make their way back to a Germany that was in utter chaos:  ‘this is what I did in the war, Callum.’

            Callum’s Opa went to war as a conscripted Artilleryman in 1940.  His scientific studies at University were interrupted, but he didn’t think he’d be away for very long;  he was sure that he would realise his cherished dream of being a scientist once victory was achieved, and life would be back to a comforting normality with his family.  Now it’s 1944 and he finds himself ‘foraging’ for food in the Polish countryside – any kind of food, with other starving soldiers from the remains of various regiments as they tried to reach the  German border.  He is ashamed, too, to be taking food – any kind of food – from the villages they pass through, for he knows that the inhabitants are starving as well.  But hunger has no morals.  And they know the Russian Army is not far behind:  there will be no mercy from them.

            Opa’s experiences are a classic example of what it was like to be on the losing side, the side that committed crimes of such heinous savagery that the world will never forget;  a cultured nation that will always be branded by the terrible sins of supreme power and blind obedience.  By the end of this powerful narration Callum – and every reader – will know, too.   Alexander Starritt has produced a brilliant, singular morality tale, one that should be taught in schools.  SIX STARS.

                  

 

Katipo Joe series, by Brian Falkner.  Junior Fiction

Book One, Blitzkrieg

Book Two, Spycraft.

 

            Brian Falkner’s wonderful wartime adventure series opens in Berlin in 1938:  Hitler is massing his troops and Germany is preparing for the Thousand-Year Reich and a pure Aryan race.  Joseph St. George is 12 years old and living in Berlin, the son of British Diplomats.  He has lots of friends at school and is envious of them because they are all joining the HitlerJugend, the Hitler Youth – why can’t he?

            His parents explain to him very succinctly why he can’t, especially after Kristallnacht, The Night of the Broken Glass, when Jews and their property were beaten and smashed:  on the surface Deutschland sparkles; behind the glitter are horrible undercurrents which culminate in a midnight visit to their home from the Gestapo, who drag Joe’s father off for questioning.  Joe finally realises that his idyllic childhood in Germany is over, especially when he and his mother are forced to flee to a series of Safe Houses on their way to Switzerland and eventual safety in Britain – where his mother immediately sends him home to her brother in New Zealand because he will be safe there.  Outrageous!

            Joe doesn’t believe he can survive without his mother.  He still doesn’t know what happened to his father, and he has no idea what kind of work she does in Whitehall, but he is determined to get back to her whichever way he can – and after three years he does, stowing away on a cargo ship, nearly drowning when a U boat torpedo strikes, but he does make it back to London – just in time for the Blitz, and to find that his Mother is spying for Churchill.

            Brian Falkner keeps up a cracking pace throughout Book One;  his research is top-notch and he provides a glossary and relevant photos as Joe is eventually recruited by Whitehall to train as a Junior Spy;  he is tall and fair, the perfect Aryan specimen, and his language skills are exemplary.  After the right training he will be sent back to Berlin – as an assassin:  no-one would ever suspect a tall, handsome Aryan Hitler youth as a murderer of one of their own.

            Spycraft, Book Two, is set in Bavaria in Berchtesgaden, Hitler’s planning and social centre:  once again Joe has been parachuted into Germany to replace a HitlerJugend lad who mysteriously disappears from the train that Joe must take to join other young girls and boys who are the cream of the Hitler Youth.  They are to appear in a movie by acclaimed film-maker Leni Riefenstahl, a propaganda film to show the German public – and the world – the perfection of German Aryan youth under the Third Reich and, as with Book One, there is more to Joe’s mission (and more life-and-death risk) than he could possibly imagine;  the suspense and excitement never falters, and Falkner’s portrayal of all the monsters of history is first-rate.  At this stage of the series, Book Two should be classed as Young Adult as themes and the story change, but the only criticism I have so far is the lack of Book Three.  I need to know what happens!  SIX STARS!!

 

Exit, by Belinda Bauer.

 

          Felix Pink is a widower who lives a very quiet life with his rescue dog Mabel in a small Devon town.  He is a retired accountant and his days are orderly and structured – he would never say ‘boring’, but oh, how he wishes that his Margaret were still with him – in her right mind.  For his wife gradually succumbed to dementia, leaving him entirely alone in the world, their beloved son having died many years before from cancer in what should have been the prime of his life.  No-one knows the meaning of the word ‘solitary’ better than Felix, or the terrible, on-going grief he experiences on his weekly visits to the cemetery to replace the flowers on his loved ones’ grave.  He wonders how long it will be before he will join them permanently, but until that longed-for day arrives, he will try to live an upright, decent life, as Margaret would have wanted him to.

            And to that end, he has joined a very discreet society called The Exiteers, a group of dedicated people who help people to end their lives – providing said people meet certain criteria:  they must be terminally ill, leave a Will and/or very clear instructions and be able to administer a dose of a certain gas (provided by the Exiteer) themselves;  the Exiteer will be there purely for moral support, and to ‘clean up’ the scene after death, so that a verdict of suicide is patently obvious in the Coroner’s Report.  Felix has ‘assisted’ at quite a number of deaths, and as the story opens, he is about to assist with a new recruit, a young woman who nervously reveals that this is her first time, and she decided to ‘join up’ because her Nan died a horrible, lingering death and she wants ‘to make amends’. 

            Fair enough.  Except that, unbeknownst to them the house they visit has not one, but two patients who appear to be terminal and, after the young woman botches things irretrievably with # 1, # 2 makes his presence known by querulously demanding from another bedroom ‘Was anyone going to get on with the job?’

            Belinda Bauer has combined high tragedy with low comedy in this ruthless examination of the British version of the Swiss euthanasia clinics;  she examines the ‘system’ from every angle, including the corruption that is rife and so easily flourishes in the most unlikely sections of society – until decent, boring (yes, boring, Felix!) people take a stand.  Great characters, great story, FIVE STARS.