Katie's Book Blog

February mini-reviews.

2012-02-18T19:40:00.003Z

Hi everyone. Despite my lack of blog posts recently, I've actually been reading a lot, I just haven't had an awful lot to say about any of the books. However, I felt it was about time to share some thoughts on a few of the things that I've been reading.

Sandman - Neil Gaiman

Since discovering that one of the Island libraries has nearly all of the Sandman graphic novels, I have been making regular trips and marching through the series, before passing them on to my friend. There is a wide variety in the style and format of stories, like an elaborate patchwork quilt: one volume will be a long narrative, and the next made up of short stories. Some star the titular Sandman, Dream, and his Endless siblings: Destiny, Death, Delirium, Desire, Despair and Destruction, whereas in other volumes they only appear occasionally, around the edges of the stories, so to speak.

I'm currently up to vol. 8: Worlds' End, in which travellers from all through time, space and contradictory but co-existing realities find themselves stranded by a storm in an Inn, in which they occupy their time by telling stories of all flavours and styles. But the storm is not an ordinary storm, but a "reality storm" caused by something strange and rare and unexplained. When the tales have all been told, the travellers go to the window and see a strange thing in the sky, a thing that none could explain or understand, but somehow we all, reader and character alike, could sense that things were never going to be the same again. Behind the pages of the stories told in Worlds' End, another story has been taking place, a story of enormous significance, hidden from the eyes of the ordinary - extraordinary - folk who dwell in the Sandman universe(s) and yet to be revealed to the readers, no doubt in volume 9.

I felt almost afraid to turn the page,
fascinated but scared of what I might see in the sky.

By this point, Sandman has become more than "just a comic book" to be a masterpiece of storytelling, in any format.

Submarine - Joe Dunthorne

Submarine is a coming-of-age tale of Oliver Tate, a precocious teenage boy, an account of his relationships with family, friends and girls, and his observations of the world around him. It is an intelligent, somewhat poetic read, and one which led me back to my Superior Person's Book of Words to indulge the word-nerd tendencies that I share with the narrator. However, I didn't altogether like Oliver - he was a rather obnoxious kid - and the scenes in which he participated in the bullying of a classmate were an insurmountable barrier between me and the book, and Dunthorne seemed to rely too much on cringe-comedy and explicit content for my tastes - possibly appropriate for a tale about a teenage boy. I'm not saying that I entirely disliked Submarine, but I don't feel that I have gained anything from having read it, and shan't be rereading or watching the film.

The Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins (reread)

When I first read the series a couple of years ago, I wrote, "I'm not sure that The Hunger Games is as amazing as the hype had led me to believe, but it is a very good book, and it was a lot better than the book blurb and my reading taste came together to expect." Catching Fire won me over, and evidently the story lingered in my brain, because over the last months I've had dream after dream about being in that arena, about being Katniss Everdeen. With the hype mounting for the new film which comes into cinemas next month, I am still undecided whether or not I actually want to see it.

The trailer is amazing. Watching it, I felt tears stab at my eyes a couple of times, when Katniss shouts in desperation and love for her sister: "I volunteer!" and the salute to her from the citizens of District 12. And yet - there is a movie already in my mind that I feel a fierce attachment and loyalty to. Flicking through The Tribute Guide which came into bookstores recently, I nearly shouted aloud, "You are NOT President Snow!" (Donald Sutherland is an excellent actor and I am sure he will play the part admirably, but he is not my President Snow.) Some pictures looked perfect, while others I judged as "too sci-fi." Jennifer Lawrence is almost Katniss, Josh Hutcherson a passable Peeta, Gale I never had a very strong image of, so he'll do. Rue. Cinna. Effie Trinket. Prim. All fine. Great, even. It looks a like a great movie.

But I'm still not certain. The concept of the book - children killing each other for entertainment purposes - repelled me, and watching it as a film takes you closer to the real experience, the discomfort of knowing you'll be watching the Hunger Games recreated, rather than reading about them. (Maybe that's just me.) And the other thing: I have a phobia of wasps - can't even say or type the word without flinching, and there is a horrific scene with mutant wasps, or "tracker-jackers." Is this spheksophobia strong enough to deter me from watching the film?

Reading The Hunger Games the second time around, I realise that Katniss' affections could go either way, being manipulated and fabricated before she's really aware that she has any romantic feelings, being formed by her circumstances. Interestingly, on my first time reading the books, if I had any strong opinions on the matter, I suppose I was slightly in favour of Team Peeta, whereas this time I'm veering more towards Team Gale. I wonder what has changed.

Wish Me Luck - Margaret Dickinson

I picked up this cosy wartime romance in a charity shop years ago, and forgot that I'd even got it until yesterday, when I wanted a break from the doom and gloom of Panem. I have little time for romance, whether that be Mills and Boon, or chick lit, but occasionally I'll make an exception for a sweet story from the "granny" section of the bookstore, wartime romances, family sagas, usually seeming to take place in World War 2 Liverpool. Wish Me Luck is the story of Fleur, a WAAF (women's branch of the Royal Air Force) girl who falls in love with an RAF officer. Their relationship is marred, not only by the dangers of being in love during wartime, but by their parents, whose own pasts are intertwined by secrets long gone but never forgotten.

Wish Me Luck is a light, easy read. Dickinson's style is simple but warm. She hooked me with the mysteries and kept the plot twisting so that it wasn't predictable. She recreates 1940s Lincolnshire and Nottingham well, peopled with a likeable, well-rounded cast. With one exception. Fleur's mother was too unpleasant, a bitter, shrieking harridan who is never given much development or redemption, and towards the end, I felt that the story tailed off a little. Of course it is inevitable that any book set on the home front of World War 2 is going to feature some sort of tragedy, but it all seemed to come at once, like an avalanche of heartbreak, all at once. Still, Wish Me Luck is a very sweet, "nice" sort of story over all, and despite the deluge of disaster before the happy ending, just the sort of book to cheer me up when I was feeling low.

The Gum Thief, Douglas Coupland

2012-02-09T17:34:00.000Z

I wanted to fall in love again, I realised. Not with a man. I’m far too lazy and selfish right now to arrange my life around another person’s. I’m too fond of going where I want, doing what I want, when I want, acting on the spur of the moment without having to be accountable to someone else. No, what I wanted was to fall in love with a story. To discover something brand-new that grabs me by the brain and imagination and takes me entirely by surprise. Something that would mean my life would not be quite the same after having read it.

Seeing Douglas Coupland’s The Gum Thief in the library, I wondered if, perhaps, this might be The One. I had vague memories of my friend Anna recommending Mr Coupland - possibly JPod - and Girlfriend In A Coma has been on my to-read-maybe-one-day list for so long I can’t even remember why any more. My friend Anna is very clever and a bit nerdy but in such a way to make it cool, and she likes Neil Gaiman and has purple hair. If she recommended Coupland, maybe I would like him too. Anyway, I’d give him a try. The blurb on the back hooked me: “Bethany discovers Roger’s notebook and finds that he’s writing diary entries pretending to be her - and weirdly, he’s getting it right.”

Of course, when you go looking to spontaneously fall in love and be taken by surprise, you’re doomed to failure. The Gum Thief is entertaining and voices many truths about Life, The Universe and Everything™ - especially if you’re stuck in a dead-end job in retail - but ultimately, I did not connect emotionally with the book. When reading, the pages passed quickly, with multiple narrators and short chapters to keep interest, but I didn’t feel a great urge to return to it when I’d put it down. The book’s tone was subdued. Roger is in his forties divorced and disillusioned, while Bethany is a twenty four year old goth living at home with her mother, with vague plans of visiting Europe with her new boyfriend, but no real plans for the future. I could identify with Roger’s and Bethany’s observations in their working life in a Staples superstore, and I liked the characters well enough, but somehow I felt distanced from their world.

As well as Roger’s and Bethany’s diaries and letters to each other - interspersed with the occasional letter from Bethany’s mother and other Staples employees, many chapters of The Gum Thief are chapters from Roger’s attempt at a novel: Glove Pond. Unfortunately, this novel is bad. Deliberately bad writing - at least deliberate on Coupland’s part - full of dry dialogue, telling-not-showing, faux-intellectual ponderings on life and creative but not quite successful imagery. And when so much of a book is full of bad writing and pretentiousness, even as a literary device, the lingering impression I take away from reading the book is - bad writing and pretentiousness. Glove Pond colours The Gum Thief - or perhaps I should say it sucks out all the colour, leaving a white and grey, cold and somewhat empty-feeling novel.

Or, conversely, maybe the fictional-within-fiction Glove Pond helps to draw attention to what colour does exist in Roger’s and Bethany’s apparently bleak, dull lives. It makes the chapters written by them interesting by comparison. Time will tell which of these contradictory impressions of The Gum Thief is stronger in my mind.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

2012-01-19T00:05:00.003Z

My best friend, Judith, is only two months older than me, but when we were at school, she was in the year above me. This proved very useful when it came to discovering literature. Many a book I read and loved came second-hand through her talking about what she was studying in English. This was certainly the case for my first Sherlock Holmes stories. I must have been either ten or eleven, and after her raving about Holmes, I just had to find out what all the fuss was about. Even at eleven, I didn't like missing out on a good story. I vividly remember that I read four stories, one of which was "The Speckled Band," which captivated me, appealing to my slightly ghoulish imagination. This must have been one of my first really grown-up stories, and it was like nothing I'd ever read before.

I've read The Hound of the Baskervilles a few times, but aside from that, Sherlock Holmes lay at the back of my mind for many years. I watched a few stories on TV, acquired much of the knowledge through the osmosis of popular culture, but didn't read much until about eighteen months ago, when BBC started airing Sherlock for the first time. The series sent me right back to the original stories: A Study in Scarlet, and The Sign of Four. After an unusually long wait for a second series of a TV show, Sherlock returned to the screens once more on New Year's Day this year, and I returned to the next volume of the series: The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

After two novels, the third installment is a collection of short stories. This makes the book easy to dip in and out of, and you need little knowledge of what has come before, but can read the stories in any order - there may be a throwaway reference to "the case of..." but nothing that has any bearing on the tale. In fact, the stories aren't even compiled in chronological order - some are set after Watson's marriage, others before. They are narrated by Dr Watson, as written up long after the event. Though far from simple stories, they are told simply, often to the same formula: The problem is presented, Dr Watson, the client and the reader are all baffled, but not Sherlock Holmes, oh no! He ponders a lot, asks strange questions, goes out, solves the mystery then comes back and then tells us how he did it. My favourite stories in the collection are those which have a little less talking and a little more action, those stories in which Watson gets to go "on location" with Holmes.

Some of the tales are rather silly, such as "The Blue Carbuncle" - a valuable jewel which nearly ends up in the Christmas dinner. Two stories require suspension of disbelief as dodgy characters fool those closest to them with disguised identities, and then there is "The Red-Headed League." A fun, entertaining and cunning tale, but how gullible was Holmes's client, duped into joining this fictitious club, just for gingers?

Adventures also contains some of the most wonderful and memorable cases. We meet The Woman, Irene Adler, the one woman Sherlock acknowledges. There is the gruesome tale of the "Engineer's Thumb," and the "Copper Beeches" mystery, first dismissed by Holmes as his "zero point" for interest, but which turns out to be one of the most intriguing and exciting of all. And of course, "The Speckled Band," my old friend, the original locked-door mystery.

Yes, reading these stories, sometimes I found myself rolling my eyes at some of these cliched tropes - but let's not forget that they were not cliched. These are the original twisty page-turning detective stories, those that helped to invent the genre. I won't say Conan Doyle was the inventor - check out Poe's Auguste Dupin stories that came before - but for twists and thrills and cleverness, I think nothing has topped the Sherlock Holmes series in over a century. Maybe Agatha Christie put up a fair fight.

The Psychopath Test, Jon Ronson

2012-01-17T20:00:00.000Z

What is a psychopath? That is the question at the heart of Jon Ronson’s book which is advertised as: “A journey through the madness industry.” What is a psychopath, how are psychopaths diagnosed, is there a cure, and what is the difference between psychopaths who are institutionalised, and the psychopaths at the top of the institutions: politics, business, entertainment and so on? These are just some of the questions Ronson explores in his study in madness.

In his research for this book, Ronson meets a man who feigned madness to try to escape a prison sentence – only to discover it is impossible to prove his sanity. In a chapter that reads more like the “madness literature” of Catch-22 or One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, every action “Tony” takes to show that, in fact, he is not insane, is taken as evidence that, in fact, he is. Or that he is not mad, but still a psychopath.

Ronson catalogues historic diagnoses and attempts at treating psychopathy – and his findings are surreal, sometimes disastrous, often seeming more like a skewed fiction than reality – interviews the psychologist responsible for coming up with the definitive psychopathy test, and starts applying the test to various people he meets: the mass-murderer, the top businessman with ruthless ambition and a love for firing people, the M15 agent-turned-conspiracy theorist. And yes, it certainly seems that the same traits that label some people as “psychopaths” are those that are encouraged in the people judged as “most successful.” Is society really run my psychopaths?

At the same time, Ronson argues, it is easy for people to be misdiagnosed, and especially in this day and age, any strangeness or eccentricity is easily – too easily – categorised as “mental disorders,” sometimes with disastrous results. Where do we draw the line? is the question we are left asking, in the fragile balancing act between “madness” and “sanity.”

I’m not a natural reader of non-fiction, but I found Ronson’s style to be easy-going, understandable considering I have no background in psychology, a curious and fascinating, if somewhat frightening insight into the world of diagnosing psychopathy.

Cuckoo, Julia Crouch

2012-01-13T13:23:00.000Z

When Rose hears that her childhood friend has been widowed, she doesn't hesitate in inviting Polly and her children to stay. What else could she do? But Rose's husband Gareth isn't too happy about this. He's never liked Polly. She gives him the creeps. And certainly, Polly is not your normal grieving widow. She's never quite been normal, a former indie musician, with a history of drugs, eating disorders and other demons that have never quite gone away. But that's just Polly.

But the longer Polly stays under Rose's room, the more Rose feels she is losing her family. Her neatly ordered home and life starts falling to pieces. Could her old friend have anything to do with this?

Cuckoo is not the first book I've read where a newcomer to the household spreads an unhealthy influence, and seems to be gradually weaseling her way into the wife's position. Candia McWilliam's A Little Stranger works on similar themes, although in that case it was the nanny. Araminta Hall's Everything And Nothing looks like another version of the same story, but I haven't actually read that one and am only going by the cover blurbs.

I didn't automatically like any of the main characters, with the exception of Anna, Rose's elder daughter (and I suppose Flossie the baby.) Still, they are real characters, with flaws and struggles, dark secrets in the past, bad tempers, maybe too much drinking and smoking. Still, I grew to fear for Rose as her life started to unravel around her.

Polly was an interesting character, sometimes evil incarnate in a sexy dress, otherwise charm itself, and undeniably a very messed-up person. Sometimes it seemed she was so messed up that she couldn't help herself, and that there was only a certain amount of blame you could throw at her. Other times she was coolly manipulative, casting her glamour - and I mean this in all senses of the word - over Rose, her friends and relations, and eventually even the reader. As Polly began to cast her web, I was almost shouting at the characters, "How can you let her fool you?!" Yet in the end, even I was drawn in, a little. Even after all the evidence, even I wondered if, maybe, Polly was telling the truth and Rose was the one who was a bit mad.

When I started reading Cuckoo, it was with my editorial eyes, and at first I felt myself wanting to go through it with a red pencil. "Stop telling us and start showing! And for goodness' sake, stop telling us 'Rose thought this' and 'Rose thought that!'" Despite this, Crouch sets a really creepy, menacing atmosphere in her descriptions, each little detail leaving me worrying about what new disasters may unfold for Rose and her family. I feared for her.

Some aspects of the plot were visible for miles off, and I wondered how Rose herself could not see them sooner. But there were plenty of twists, too. Its ending was not a cosy, neat one, but if it had been, I would have felt cheated. This was not a neat story, but a messy one of damaged people trying to make their way the best they could.

If you enjoy this book, you may like:
The Poison Tree by Erin Kelly

Mini-review: The Sandman, Vol.3: Dream Country, Neil Gaiman

2012-01-07T12:53:00.000Z

I started reading Neil Gaiman's celebrated graphic novel series, The Sandman, last year. The first volume, Preludes and Nocturnes, I reviewed here, and concluded that, although the quality and style was patchy, while Gaiman was still finding out what sort of a series Sandman was, his voice shone through, and left me thinking. The second volume, The Dolls' House, was a continuous story, and the art was brighter and cleaner-looking, more pleasing to my comic-novice eyes.

Neil Gaiman's work has a habit of lingering, of making sense of the world through story, putting into words the thoughts that hover at the edge of one's mind. His Sandman comics are no exception to this. Dream Country is a shorter volume than the first two, with only four stories, self-contained stories in comparison with the longer narrative of The Dolls' House. Gaiman has also included a copy of his original script for one of the stories, for those readers with an enquiring mind and interest in behind-the-scenes. In his stories, we see the horrific lengths to which a writer goes to banish writers' block in "Calliope" - and Dream's revenge. (Be careful what you wish for!) Neil tells us what cats dream - "I wonder what cats have to dream about...The way it's twitching about, I think maybe it's hunting something...some small animal, I suppose.[...]it's really cute." , and the story behind A Midsummer Night's Dream. And finally, we meet Death again when she visits someone cursed with immortality. A haunting, unforgettable chapter in the Sandman saga.

Howl's Moving Castle, Diana Wynne Jones

2012-01-03T19:38:00.000Z

When Sophie Hatter falls foul of the wicked Witch of the Waste, she heads off to the best place to get help - to the mysterious moving castle inhabited by the mysterious wizard Howl. But Howl, it is said, eats the hearts or souls of every young girl he comes across. Undeterred by the rumours, Sophie establishes herself as cleaner in the Moving Castle, and is whisked away in an adventure of magic spells and curses, fire demons, charmed suits and seven-league boots, and she even gets to peep into a strange land called Wales, before the Witch's spell can be lifted and Sophie can, despite being the ill-fated eldest child, find her happily-ever-after.

Diana Wynne Jones was my best friend's favourite author growing up, yet somehow I managed to reach my twenties without having read any of her work. My friend was determined to rectify this, and so this Christmas, alongside my presents, she handed me a huge bag of all the books I'd lent her over the past year, and a few of her own in return, including Howl's Moving Castle.

Sophie Hatter is a practical, no-nonsense young lady who is well aware of the conventions of the sort of story she lives in. She knows the importance of birth order in stories, that the eldest child is never successful in seeking their fortune, and accepts her lot in life. But when she finds herself transformed into an elderly woman, she decides it is up to her to find her way out of the mess, which she does with a level head and a lot of stubbornness. The Wizard Howl's reputation is greatly exaggerated, as such reputations usually are, but he is still a vain and selfish man who Sophie can't tell if he can be trusted or not. Still, he is an amusing and likeable character, for all his foibles.

Some fantasy books are fantasy, and others are fairy tale. Wynne Jones establishes from the very beginning that Howl is set in the land of Once Upon A Time. The world of Ingary is a world where there is no such thing as impossible - although, of course, the impossible has its own rules - and Wynne Jones' simple, matter-of-fact narration of weird and wonderful occurrences, gives the book a dreamlike quality reminiscent of such classics as Alice in Wonderland or The Wizard of Oz. But this is a wonderland with a twist. About halfway through the novel, Howl takes Sophie to see his strange, far-away homeland - which is revealed to be 20th Century Wales, and his strange name a corruption of Howell. Howell Jenkins. We get to see our world as if it were the fairyland.

Howl's Moving Castle is a charming and cheeky fairy tale that turns a lot of the traditional fantasy conventions on their heads. I'm off to see a stage play of the story in London at the weekend, and it has also been adapted by Studio Ghibli into an anime film.

Top books of 2011

2012-01-01T13:35:00.000Z

Happy New Year everyone.

I've read 120 books in 2011, and looking back over my list, it was interesting to see which books have lingered on in my memory, and which I had completely forgotten about. Others I read, enjoyed (or not) but promptly forgot about.

So here are my top new discoveries of 2011, as seen from today:

Never Let Me Go - Kazuo Ishiguro
A haunting, atmospheric tale of friendship and love among three people who have been brought up to know that they were not quite the same as everyone else. The story is told cleverly, so that the reader experiences alongside Kathy, Tommy and Ruth the gradual realisation that they already know what's going on. A melancholy but extraordinary tale.

Affinity and Fingersmith - Sarah Waters.
Ms Waters excels in writing historical page-turners, twisty mysteries and world-building. These two novels explore dark undersides to the respectable society that we think of as Victorian. Her prose is beautiful, atmospheric and believably written as by someone you might find in a Dickens novel. These novels draw you in and are difficult to escape from.

When God Was A Rabbit - Sarah Winman
The first novel by Sarah Winman was selected as part of Richard and Judy's book club, and it was one of my favourite books of the selection that I've read in many years. A tale of family, friendship and growing up, When God Was A Rabbit is a quirky, funny and heartrending novel with eccentric but loveable characters. An enjoyable read.

My Sister Lives on the Mantlepiece - Annabel Pitcher
I experienced this book as an audiobook, read by David Tennant. The story is of a small boy whose family is falling apart. His sister has been killed in a terrorist attack, his mum has left and he, his dad and surviving sister have had to move to a new home. A simple view of a complicated world as seen through the eyes of a child.

The Distant Hours - Kate Morton
Kate Morton's third novel is full of her signature ingredients: two stories from different times entwined together, a mystery from the past, a big old house. The Distant Hours is a modern gothic novel of an old castle with a moat, three elderly sisters, a favourite fairy tale whose origins are shrouded in mystery.

Dark Matter - Michelle Paver
This ghost story set in the arctic circle in winter is eerie and chilling, capturing well the unnatural sense of being alone and in the dark for a long stretch of time.

The Night Circus - Erin Morganstern
I unpacked this book at work and it jumped out, grabbed me by the collar and shouted "Buy me! Read me! Love me!" A romantic dark fairy tale, of two magicians competing in a contest without knowing what they are competing for nor how they can possibly win. Written in beautiful, vivid prose, with a wonderful supporting cast, The Night Circus is full of magic, possibility and improbability. It will grab you and not let go.

Twelve Days of Christmas 12: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe

2011-12-24T08:00:00.000Z

A glowing lamppost in the middle of a snowy wood. A faun, wrapped in a scarf, carrying parcels and an umbrella. This is one of the images that has lodged in my mind for as long as I can remember, and which is inextricably linked with Christmas. Which is odd, because there hasn't been a Christmas in Narnia in living memory. The country has been placed under a spell which means that it is always winter, but never Christmas.

~~When I was little~~, I always wanted so much to find Narnia in my wardrobe. It is so beautifully described, and though it is supposed to be a curse, I think it is at its most beautiful when shrouded in snow and ice. Perhaps I would grow tired of it if I lived in perpetual winter - after all, in real life, I am already wishing that spring would come again. But that snowy wood with its lamppost is the first sight you get of Narnia, and that is the most special, the most iconic image of this wonderful land in the wardrobe. And every time I read this book, which I do most winters, I am transported to the innocence of childhood, when, although even then I knew the story inside out, it never lost its magic and its wonder.

And with the arrival of Lucy, Edmund, Susan and Peter, and the return of the Great Lion Aslan, the Witch's power begins to wane. Father Christmas is seen once more. I love the fact that, although here Christ is known as Aslan and is in the form of a Lion, Christmas is still Christmas. (It was probably brought over by the first King and Queen of Narnia, Frank the Cabby and his wife Nellie in The Magician's Nephew.) Father Christmas is instantly recogniseable, as old as time, wise as well as jolly. I was pleased to see that in the recent film adaptation, Father Christmas was an old-fashioned, graver version of today's Santa, in a darker red coat, as befits an old-fashioned British story - and yet still very much recogniseable.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is, to my mind, the classic child's fantasy story, a fairy tale not only for children, but for those who have outgrown being too old for fairy tales. It never loses its magic.

And I still check the wardrobe in every room I stay in.

Merry Christmas to you all.

Twelve Days of Christmas 11: Little House on the Prairie

2011-12-23T08:00:00.000Z

I received my Little House on the Prairie omnibus for my seventh birthday, and it was my first really big book: three books in one, chronicling the early years of Laura Ingalls and her family as they settled in different places, making their homes in different places before moving to their next place in a covered wagon drawn by horses. Laura Ingalls Wilder's descriptions, coupled with the illustrations by Garth Williams, ensured that this book allowed my imagination to play house to its heart's content. A pen-and-ink drawing of the inside of a small wooden house was enough to let me imagine I was there too, living with Laura and Mary and playing make-believe.

There are two vivid Christmas scenes in the series that stand out for me: the first in the first book: Little House in the Big Woods. It is a merry, family Christmas, with all the uncles and aunts coming to stay, presents of mittens and a precious doll for Laura, home-made candy of molasses poured onto snow, making snow-angels and indulging in a feast of a Christmas dinner. It is a Christmas described so well I could almost taste it, almost smell the clean, fresh snow and hear the laughter of a family celebrating Christmas together. Other Christmases feature as the series chronicles Laura's life. Nowadays children receive TVs, gaming consoles and iPods for their big Christmas presents, but Laura makes a few pieces of candy, a pair of mittens, a tin mug and a penny sound like riches galore. What else could any child want.

The other striking Christmas in my three-in-one volume, was a lonely one. A trip to town for essential supplies was a long journey, and one December, Pa Ingalls was stranded there by a blizzard. The days following his departure are anxious days of waiting, with Ma trying to distract her children with games, well aware of the dangers her husband faces. Pa's safe return on Christmas Eve, minus the Christmas candy and treats, which he had to eat to survive, is the best Christmas present of all.

Twelve Days of Christmas 10: A Christmas Carol

2011-12-22T08:00:00.000Z

You cannot, of course, write a series on fictional Christmases without mentioning Charles Dickens' ghost story and tale of redemption: A Christmas Carol. Indeed, it is claimed that this story is what has made Christmas what it is. You don't need me to tell you the story of how three ghosts convinced the cold, heartless miser Ebeneezer Scrooge that Christmas was not a waste of time and money, but a time to show love and compassion to one's fellow human creatures, and especially those who are poor and suffering. Probably you've read the book, certainly you've seen it acted out, either by Muppets or Mickey Mouse, actors or singers, set in Christmas Past, Christmas Present and maybe even Christmas Yet To Come.

I wrote last year about the deep themes of this book, about what Dickens' message of the real meaning of Christmas is all about, so I shan't cover the same ground today. Instead, I'll think of the nostalgic, romantic view of the Dickensian Christmas, cinnamon-and-sugar scented, candlelit and joyful, with a soundtrack of church bells and merry voices singing carols. I think of this Christmas ideal when working on the front tills at work, when it's got dark and I see the glowing lights and tinsel decorations in the windows of the chocolate shop across the road. When I go into Julian Graves with my mum to stock up on turkish delight, sugar almonds and spiced punch, I am taken back to Dickens' Christmas Eve, or the version of it that has evolved in my mind.

The Grocers'! oh the Grocers'! nearly closed, with perhaps two shutters down, or one; but through those gaps such glimpses! It was not alone that the scales descending on the counter made a merry sound, or that the twine and roller parted company so briskly, or that the canisters were rattled up and down like juggling tricks, or even that the blended scents of tea and coffee were so grateful to the nose, or even that the raisins were so plentiful and rare, the almonds so extremely white, the sticks of cinnamon so long and straight, the candied fruits so caked and spotted with molten sugar as to make the coldest lookers-on feel faint and subsequently bilious. Nor was it that the figs were moist and pulpy, or that the French plums blushed in modest tartness from their highly decorated boxes, or that everything was so good to eat and in its Christmas dress; but the customers were all so hurried and so eager in the hopeful promise of the day, that they tumbled up against each other at the door, crashing their wicker baskets wildly, and left their purchases upon the counter, and came running back to fetch them, and committed hundreds of the like mistakes, in the best humour possible; while the Grocer and his people were so frank and fresh that the polished hearts with which they fastened their aprons behind might have been their own...

You can keep your Black Fridays and your January sales; just let me retreat into this book for a heartwarming, joyful Christmas shopping experience.

Twelve Days of Christmas 9: Hogfather

2011-12-21T08:00:00.000Z

There haven't been many subjects that Terry Pratchett hasn't taken from the round world, taken to his Discworld and examined from an odd angle so that what you think you know all about, looks very different all of a sudden. So it was inevitable that Christmas would get the Discworld treatment, and that it would be both festive and strange at the same time. When Sky One adapted Hogfather into a two-part drama a few years ago, seeing it on the big screen made me think that if I was not already a Discworld fan I would think it a bit dark and scary in its surrealism. Father Christmas is a skeleton in a sleigh pulled by pigs? How is that in any way not creepy? Oh, and not just any skeleton but the Grim Reaper, Death himself? How - how - is this in any way okay?

Of course, I am a Discworld fan, and know full well that Death is nothing if not a big softie. It's not until seeing Hogfather through a newcomer's eyes that I even thought twice about the weirdness. But though a bit odd, it's not dark or creepy at all, and once you get into the story, you soon forget about the things that seem to be all-wrong. The Hogfather - Discworld's version of Father Christmas - is missing, and if his job is not done, disaster will strike. People are stopping believing in the Hogfather, and the spare belief is bringing all sorts of strange beings into existance, and if people don't believe in the Hogfather, the sun will not rise.

Yet for all its weirdness, Hogfather, with Death, assassins, tooth fairies and bogeymen, is as seasonal as you can get (with plenty that is jolly, with holly, and other things rhyming with "olly.") Examining the importance of faith and belief and the traditions we just take for granted, with lots of bad punes, or plays on words, and snarky wit from Death's granddaughter Susan, along the way, Hogfather has earned its way in the Christmas canon alongside the classics featured in the Twelve Days of Christmas. And the TV adaptation is a must-see!

HO. HO. HO.

Twelve Days of Christmas 8: Harry Potter

2011-12-20T08:00:00.000Z

Because of each book in the Harry Potter series spanning an entire school year, Christmas features in each of them. I found it difficult to choose just one moment, so I chose three Christmas scenes that stood out to me.

Philosopher's Stone:

After a childhood of neglect, Harry discovers that people actually like him enough to send him Christmas presents. Among other things, he receives a knitted sweater from his best friend's mother, who he's met for all of about five minutes, and an invisibility cloak from an anonymous sender with the instructions to use it well. Venturing out into the school at night to explore, he comes across a room containing a mirror. But no ordinary mirror: the Mirror of Erised shows his deepest longing - himself with his parents, who died when he was just a baby.

Goblet of Fire:

The Yule Ball, from Harry and Ron's point of view is, frankly, a disaster. Neither of them particularly want to be there, having taken as their partners two girls they have no interest in. Harry would far rather be dancing with Cho Chang, and Ron - well - he seems more than usually grumpy at the thought of Hermione partnering Triwizard rival Viktor Krum. Odd, that! But this is a major turning point in the series for Hermione Granger, the first point in which she is seen as a girl rather than a nerdy know-it-all. When the film came out, this was the moment that seemed to be hyped up above the main storyline: the point in which Hermione becomes pretty. (Considering that Emma Watson had showed up at premieres dressed up nicely, it was less of a big deal to viewers than it was to readers, but still. It was a lovely moment - until Ron ruined it. Nice one, Weasley!)

Deathly Hallows:

The last months have been a nightmare. Fleeing for their lives and wanted by Lord Voldemort, Harry, Ron and Hermione have embarked on the seemingly impossible task of tracking down Voldemort's horcruxes - which could be anything, anywhere - and destroying them. The quest has put strain on their friendship, and Ron has left. Harry and Hermione turn up in Godric's Hollow, the village where the Potters lived and died, in the cold. They search for Harry's parents' grave, and they hear the church bells ringing and people singing carols. It's Christmas eve, and they didn't even know it. The scene is sad subdued, far from the innocent joy of his first Christmas at Hogwarts, but the longing is the same, for what he's never known. It is a beautiful, but heartbreaking pensive moment, the calm amidst storms.

Twelve Days of Christmas 7: Anne of Green Gables

2011-12-19T08:00:00.000Z

As I described earlier in the year when rereading the Anne of Green Gables series for my Kindred Spirit challenge, my childhood reading experiences were so vivid that sometimes they seem almost indistinguishable from my real-life experiences. I'm sure that my character was partly influenced by precocious orphan Anne Shirley, who I could identify more with than any other character I had encountered in either fiction or real life. I couldn't tell you what it was like to be a child in the early 1990s, because as far as I was concerned I grew up in 19th century Canada, 1940s rural England, on the Prairies... wherever my reading and imagination took me.

If you were to ask Anne Shirley what her most memorable Christmas present was, no doubt she would tell you about the dress bought for her by Matthew Cuthbert the Christmas before she turned thirteen. Her childhood before then was one of poverty and neglect, reluctantly taken in by one family after another, before being dropped off in an orphanage. A bright, dreamy girl with a love of all things beautiful, it was only Anne's imagination that resigned her to wearing the shabby, second-hand clothes of ugly material provided by the orphanage. Being adopted by two middle-aged people who knew nothing of children was her first taste of real happiness. Shy Matthew adored her, his sister Marilla was less demonstative, but under her stiff exterior, she too came to love Anne. But as far as Marilla was concerned, pretty clothes were frivolous and encouraged vanity, and she insisted in dressing Anne in plain ginghams and prints without any room for flounces or fashions - or puffed sleeves, Anne's biggest dream.

If you were to ask Matthew how he came to be an expert in dresses for teenage girls, he would probably scurry away like a frightened rabbit. Buying the dress that Anne set her heart on was not an easy feat for him, because he was terrified of all women except his sister, neighbour Rachel Lynde, who he tolerated, and lately Anne, the apple of his eye. When he arrived at the store to be greeted by a new - female - shop assistant, he could not bring himself to ask for dress material for his ward, instead making himself look even stranger by requesting hayseed and a rake - in winter! - and enough sugar to open a toffee factory. If it was good sugar, which it wasn't. It's a wonder that dress ever came into being. But ask Matthew if Anne's joy made it all worthwhile, and his eyes would tell it all.

"That's a Christmas present for you," said Matthew shyly. "Why - why - Anne, don't you like it? Well now - well now."
For Anne's eyes had suddenly filled with tears.
"Like it! Oh Matthew!" Anne laid the dress over a chair and clasped her hands. "Matthew, it's perfectly exquisite. Oh, I can never thank you enough. Look at those sleeves! Oh, it seems to me this must be a happy dream."

Twelve Days of Christmas 6: What Katy Did

2011-12-18T08:00:00.000Z

What Katy Did is one of those books in the genre of Victorian children's literature that can be a bit too cloyingly moralistic for some people's tastes, and certainly I do feel that loveable, careless tomboy Katy is not so much improved through her trials and tribulations, as made into a perfect and dull paragon of what a young lady should be. Certainly, as the story progresses, the character of Katy holds less interest for me, but what keeps me reading these books are the details. The details of the games children play, the schemes they concoct, and the little things they do to amuse each other.

When Katy is bedridden after her accident on the swing, she and her Aunt Izzie concoct a plan for "St Nicholas" to visit and bring presents for all of her many brothers, sisters and friends. Some items are handmade, others recycled items of Katy's own, coveted by her siblings, while others still are bought fresh: including a sled for one sister and a writing desk for another. With a grand sum of seven dollars and a quarter, I wondered just how great the rate of inflation must have been since the book was written - seven dollars equalling something over four pounds today.

"I'd like the sled to be green," went on Katy, "and to have a nice name. Sky-Scraper would be nice if there was one. Johnny saw a sled once called Sky-Scraper, and she said it was splendid. And if there's money enough left, Aunty, won't you buy me a real nice book for Dorry, and another for Cecy, and a silver thimble for Mary? Her old one is full of holes. Oh! and some candy. And something for Debby and Bridget - some little thing, you know. I think that's all."

As a girl I quite missed the narrator's ironic observation - Was ever seven dollars and a quarter expected to do so much? Aunt Izzie must have been a wtich indeed to make it hold out - and thought wistfully of the days long ago when such a small amount of money could buy so many gifts.

The other Christmassy highlight comes in the second book in the series: What Katy Did At School. Spending Christmas in their boarding school, Katy and her sister Clover receive two parcels of tasty goodies from home, and from the description these boxes must have been veritable Tardises, packed with enough sweet treats to feed an entire school.

The top of the box was mostly taken up with four square paper boxes, round which parcels of all shapes and sizes were wedged and fitted [...] Each box held a different kind of cake. One was full of jumbles, another of ginger-snaps, a third of crullers , and the fourth containe a big square loaf of frosted plum-cake, with a circle of sugar almonds set in the frosting [...] Never was such a wonderful box. It appeared to have no bottom whatever. Under the presents were parcels of figs, prumes, almonds, raisins, candy; under those, apples and pears. There seemed no end to the surprises."

Those Christmas boxes must have been a remarkable gift, and the description never fails to make my mouth water.

Twelve Days of Christmas 5: Jo of the Chalet School

2011-12-17T08:00:00.000Z

Elinor M. Brent-Dyer's Chalet School series is one of the most impressively-long series of children's books of all time (Nancy Drew and the Babysitters' Club may beat it, but I believe both of these had the help of ghost writer.) I can't think of a longer-running school story series, spanning 58 books (or 62 if you count those that here split into two for their paperback release.) Beginning in the mid-1920s and ending around the '60s, the books follow the fortunes of a family-run school from its humble beginnings with a handful of pupils in an Austrian chalet, through the Anschluss and World War 2 when they had to flee first to Guernsey, then to the Welsh/English Border, until the school grows so big that it has hundreds of pupils and multiple sites in Britain, Switzerland and a finishing branch.

Of course, through such a long-lived series, the tone and quality is variable, and I like best the early books, when the school is still small and family-like, when you get to know all the pupils, staff and their families, and all their foibles. The second book in the series: Jo of the Chalet School is full of such cosy, informal scenes, and best of all are the Christmas chapters, when headmistress Madge Bettany, her younger sister Jo and a couple of honorary members of the family, spend their first Christmas in Austria, visiting the family of two of the pupils who live in Innsbruck. After a term of Jo and Madge being student and teacher, they get to spend Christmas as sisters once more, in some heartwarming, cosy scenes.

Even now German and Austrian Christmas markets are a thing of wonder, replicated in city centres up and down the UK, but even more wonderful, surely, would be the real thing. My Christmases were illuminated with European folk tales alongside the British and American traditions, and in Jo of the Chalet School, Joey and Madge get to experience for themselves of the magical, Christmas-card beauty of an old-fashioned Austrian festival season. Though the girls find some of the ways of their Austrian friends a little old-fashioned, the welcome is warm and genuine, and they spend their first Christmas abroad with tobogganing, skiing and Midnight Mass, their hosts dressed in traditional costume so that, as Jo says, "It's like Hans Anderson, or Snow White and Rose Red come to life!"

Twelve Days of Christmas 4: Little Women

2011-12-16T08:00:00.000Z

"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents!" So opens Louisa May Alcott's classic Little Women, Jo expressing what could be a surprisingly materialistic sentiment in a book that, if you're not in the right frame of mind, can come across as irritatingly preachy and twee. (Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy this book - most of the time. But if I'm not in the right mood, it can get on my nerves.) And, to give her her dues, I think it's more the tradition of exchanging gifts that Jo is lamenting, rather than just wanting more stuff!

Still, the March girls manage to do quite well, even under difficult financial circumstances with their father away at war, coming up with small but all the more precious gifts for each other. Then they share their Christmas breakfast with a family in extreme poverty, who welcome them as "angels." ("Funny angels in hoods and mittens," said Jo, and set them laughing.) And this selfless giving really does bring out the true spirit of Christmas, when the girls find joy in being able to help those even less fortunate than themselves.

And when they went away, leaving comfort behind, I think there were not in all the city four merrier people than the hungry little girls who gave away their breakfasts, and contented themselves with bread and milk on Christmas morning.

And after all, the March sisters, though they have little wealth and riches, get just as much joy in their Christmas day celebrations - dressing up and acting out plays with whatever props they have at hand - as they could in going out for a "special occasion" such as theatre performances, concerts or parties. Their celebrations are constructed from joy, fun and love for life and each other.

Twelve Days of Christmas 3: Five Go Adventuring Again

2011-12-15T08:00:00.000Z

As you can see, many of my Christmas must-reads are childhood favourites, books that have been a part of my life since primary school. Many of Enid Blyton's Famous Five series are fairly generic - the woman did write more adventure stories than most people read in their lives! - but Five Go Adventuring, the second book in the series, is one of my favourites, even now.

Set at Christmas time, when we are still getting to know the characters, Julian, Dick and George are required to take extra coaching in the school holidays, and Uncle Quentin has hired a tutor for them. George doesn't trust him - he doesn't like dogs, you see, and her faithful dog Timmy doesn't like him! And he will insist on calling her Georgina! But her cousins think Mr Roland is wonderful, can't do a thing wrong, and wish she would just buck up and be decent and not spoil Christmas. And for Christmas day, at least, she tries - and there are lovely scenes, describing the family's presents to each other and Anne's joy at being given the fairy doll from the tree. I don't recall seeing any other Christmasses depicted in Blyton, though with hundreds of books to her name there must be some.

The quintette spend a lot of time over at the nearby farmhouse, which, it is rumoured, contains all sorts of secret tunnels and cubby-holes. I'm sure that when I wasn't checking my wardrobe for an entry into Narnia, I used to hope fervently for a false back that was also a door into a secret passageway! Alas, there was none. They find a map, with coded hints to other passageways, and the solving of this mystery appealed, and still appeals, to my inquisitive imagination. When valuable papers are stolen from Uncle Quentin's study, and there seems no way to track the thieves due to the house being snowed up, the secrets of the map become very helpful indeed!

Twelve Days of Christmas 2: Treasures of the Snow

2011-12-14T08:00:00.000Z

I received Treasures of the Snow by Patricia St John as a Sunday School prize when I was about 6 or 7 years old. It reminds me a lot of Heidi due to its setting and some of its themes, a tale of anger, friendship and forgiveness between two children, Annette and Lucien. With its Swiss mountainous setting, the entire book is a lovely read for the winter months, but it is the opening chapter, before any tragedy starts, that earns its place in my Twelve Days of Christmas series: two children walking home up the mountain from the Christmas Eve church service with gingerbread bears in their hands - and in Lucien's case, his tummy! There is a tone of magic and awe as Annette reflects upon the nativity scene, which is paralleled by her family's own cattle shed, and her arrival home to discover that she had a new baby brother.

The house was very, very still, and the Christmas star shone in through the unshuttered windows. So it had shone on that other Christmas Baby in the stable at Bethlehem, and so had Mary sat and watched God's little Son, just as [Annette] was sitting by the stove watching little brother.

She put out reverent fingures and touched the top of his downy head, which was all she could see of him. Then with a tired sigh she leaned her head against the cradle and let her fancy roam where it would - stars. shepherds, new little babies, shut doors, wise men and gingerbread bears - they all became muddled up in her mind, and she slid gradually on to the floor.

Sadly, the magic does not last long, as, little does Annette know that her mother did not survive long after giving birth, and her brother Dani becomes her own responsibility. It is a long, difficult road for all three children before they find their happy ending.

Twelve Days of Christmas 1: The Wind in the Willows

2011-12-13T08:00:00.000Z

This year, I thought that I would celebrate the twelve days leading up to Christmas by sharing twelve favourite bookish Christmases, those classic scenes or even whole books that really help me to get into the Christmas spirit.

I have to confess that as a child I was never overly keen on animal stories. I read them but didn't enjoy them so much as stories whose focus was on human characters. But The Wind in the Willows was - still is, I think - my sister's favourite book of all time (I believe she has at least 3 copies of the book in her collection - four if you include the audio cassette narrated by Alan Bennett, and always intended to call her first house Mole End.)

After abandoning his spring-cleaning, timid Mole was befriended by the Water Rat, and taken to live with him, where he spent the year making new friends and exploring the world above ground. But as winter fell, he felt his old home calling to him. When Mole is unable to contain his homesickness, Ratty insists they go back, right then! But after the luxuries of the River Bank, Mole feels quite self-conscious of his humble home. But Ratty loves it, and after all it is Mole's home.

"This really is the jolliest little place I ever was in. Now, wherever did you pick up those prints? Make the place look so home-like, they do. No wonder you're so fond of it, Mole. Tell us all about it, and how you came to make it what it is."

A group of carol-singing young field mice come to call, and are invited in to supper. This chapter is a simple, but cosy and atmospheric celebration of the little pleasures that are the most important of all.

There was an adorable short animation based on this chapter, made in the mid-1990s and featuring the voices of Richard Briers and Peter Davison. This was required viewing in my household every year as I grew up.

Movie Monday: Christmas must-sees

2011-12-12T08:00:00.000Z

I'm sure all have our favourite Christmas movies, the ones that we watch every year and have become part of our own Christmas traditions, as much as the tinsel, tree and turkey (or alternative.) Just as I have to reread A Christmas Carol and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, go to a candle-lit carol service and dig out my earrings in the shape of Christmas trees, there are certain films that just have to be watched in December. Others are less compulsory, but help me to feel that yes, Christmas really is coming.

1. The Muppet Christmas Carol. I have seen so many adaptations of Charles Dicken's famed ghost tale, and yet this version, with the Great Gonzo as the narrator, claiming to be Dickens himself, much to his friend Rizzo the Rat's disbelief. There is a wonderful mix of human and Muppet actors, with such great names as Michael Caine as the avaricious, cold-hearted Ebeneezer Scrooge, supported by Kermit the Frog as his good-natured employee Bob Cratchit (Miss Piggy, of course, is Mrs Cratchit!) and Statler and Waldorf as not just one ghost of Marley, but two! Despite the anachronisms, heckling, fourth-wall-breaking and other muppetry, it is a faithful adaptation of the novel, and with lots of memorable songs.

2. It's A Wonderful Life. Oh, how I love this film, though every time I watch it, I find myself blinking back tears in the first minutes. George Bailey is a bright, ambitious man, but his life hasn't turned out quite the way he planned. When George finds himself in desperate trouble, due to be arrested for fraud as a result of his uncle's carelessness and business rival's cruelty, he decides the world would be better off without him and contemplates suicide. Enter Clarence, a funny, bumbling little chap who claims to be his guardian angel. Clarence shows George what a dark place the world would be if he'd never been born, and he learns what a profound effect his ordinary life has had on everyone around him. A flop at the cinema when first released, It's A Wonderful Life has become one of the must-see films of Christmas.

3. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. When I first saw the trailer for the film adaptation in cinemas, my friend and I just hugged each other with excitement, barely even taking in the details, but knowing that the feel of it was perfect. This is the earliest story I can remember reading/viewing the TV series when I was three and an old animated film that just wasn't quite right. The 2005 film was perfect, magical, my childhood brought to life on the big screen. Although the 1980s BBC series was good for its time, watching it nowadays it seems dated and the acting a bit clunky. This new film, well, it just was Narnia. I can't fault it. The moment when Lucy walks through the wardrobe into the snowy wood, and sees the lamppost is just sheer magic. The casting is superb, the setting wonderful and the CGI a long way from the flying lion effect of the BBC drama. Wonderful.

4. The Hogfather. Not technically a film so much as a two-part TV dramatisation, Hogfather is the first live-action adaptation of any of Terry Pratchett's Discworld books. A strange, surreal tale of when Death had to step in for the Hogfather - the Disc's version of Father Christmas - to save the world from catastrophe. Sky One did an excellent job of bringing the Discworld to life, and it feels less of a fantasy story, and more of an alternative Victorian-esque reality which just happens to contain magic. The level of detail is astounding, the casting spot-on, especially the Wizards, the Assassins, and Susan (Michelle Dockery, now known as Lady Mary in Downton Abbey.) The kids are wonderfully real - not cutesy-poo but a bit ghoulish and cynical. Marc Warren is creepy as disturbed Assassin Teatime ("It's pronounced Teh-ah-tim-eh.") Every time I watch this, I feel like I'm seeing the Discworld brought to life for the first time.

5. The Holiday. I often protest that I don't do the mushy stuff, but I have two "chick-flicks" on my Christmas film list. The first, The Holiday tells of two women (Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz) who, wanting to get away from it all, swap houses for the Christmas break. Kate Winslet finds herself in a luxury LA mansion, befriending an elderly screenwriter and a young musician, while Cameron Diaz discovers a cosy cottage in the middle of nowhere, and Jude Law, who plays Kate Winslet's brother. Kate Winslet's cosy cottage is far nicer than all but the fanciest English homes I've ever been to, and it's a very idealised sort of middle-of-nowhere, but it really is a lovely film that touches the heartstrings and makes me feel all cosy inside.

6. Love Actually. I only discovered this film recently, having previously been sure I'd hate it, but instead I found myself feeling all soft and gooey inside during the opening minutes, when Hugh Grant's Prime Minister narrates about how love, actually, is all around. There is an all-star cast, everyone who's anyone in the British film industry appears, including many of the faces familiar from Jane Austen adaptations and Harry Potter. About ten different stories are told in this form, about love in all its forms: father and son, friendships, new and old romances, unrequited loves and happily-ever-afters. Another (mostly) happy film, though there are a couple of teary moments too.

Interestingly, when I saw this recently, about the time when Bill Nighy was performing "Christmas Is All Around" - naked - my sister texted me to say she'd just passed him in the street in London. "In the two seconds of eye contact the thought that I'd seen him playing guitar naked did spring to mind," she said.

7. The Lord of the Rings. Though not actually Christmas films, these were released into cinemas at Christmas time from 2001-2003, and have since become part of my traditions to watch in December or early January.

8. Harry Potter. Similarly, though most of these films have Christmas scenes, it is the magic and possibility and childlike innocence coupled with adventure - especially in the early films - that makes this series perfect for a cosy festive marathon in front of the fire on dark winter nights. Alas, I have only the Christmas and New Year weekends off, but I have plans to watch each of these films in the evenings over the next few weeks.

9. The Doctor Who Christmas Specials. We never used to watch TV at all on Christmas day - except, sometimes, the Queen's Speech if we'd finished lunch and done the washing up on time. But in the last few years, an exception has been made for Doctor Who. From David Tennant's first episode when he spent most of the hour in his pyjamas and defeated the aliens with a satsuma, this was immediately established as a tradition. During the Tennant era, most of these episodes took place in-between companions, so without that familiar viewpoint character, the quality was patchy. A one-off companion, Donna, the Runaway Bride returned for a series in the Tardis. With Steven Moffat as writer, the Christmas Specials appear to be tackling familiar stories from a new angle. Last year it was A Christmas Carol, this year is The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe's turn. And Matt Smith's Doctor, with Moffat's writer, is strong enough that you don't necessarily need the regular companions. I got so excited to recognise what this year's special was going to be.

Will Grayson, Will Grayson/Dash and Lily's Book of Dares

2011-12-07T20:57:00.001Z

Will Grayson, Will Grayson: John Green and David Levithan

I'd read a lot about John Green on young adult book review blogs, and the general consensus was that I ought to go out and buy all of his books! So, gift card in hand I wandered down the road to the other bookshop and perused the shelves. Should I go for An Abundance of Katherines, about a boy who only dates Katherines - because guess what? Katie is short for Katherine. Or Looking for Alaska? In the end I was won over by Will Grayson, Will Grayson's shiny cover and the novelty of the idea of two main characters with the same name - Will Grayson.

The book is written in the first person, alternating between the two Wills, with each author taking on a particular Will Grayson. Both Wills are quite lonely individuals. The first tries to live quietly and unobtrusively, his two rules being "Don't care" and "Shut up," out of fear of getting hurt. To his dismay, his best friend, Tiny Cooper - who he isn't even sure he likes very much - is the exact opposite, big, loud and flamboyant, falling in love every other day and the writer, director and star of a school musical - about his own life!

The other Will Grayson is clinically depressed and trapped in a state of self-loathing, putting up barriers between himself and the world. I've read a lot of reviews where people have found Will 2 to be moody and unlikeable, but I felt that he was a very real character who I could identify strongly with. The two Wills meet by chance in Chicago, and their lives change and take on new directions, in a rollercoaster of a story that is at times hilarious, heartbreaking and really, really corny - but in such a way that you can't help but grin.

Despite the title of the book, it is really Tiny Cooper who is the central character, and plays a crucial role in both Wills' lives. At first seeming to be a lovable but somewhat stereotypical "gay best friend" supporting role, gradually you come to realise that this boy has a huge heart beneath all his posturing, someone who genuinely lives to try to make other people feel better about themselves. He was truly lovely.

Because both Wills were written by different authors, I found it interesting to see how the characters were alike, and how they were different. In many ways, their "journeys of self-discovery" echoed each other's, but not in a self-conscious way. There were two authors, each writing their own version of a coming-of-age story, so their characters had both similarities and differences that came across more realistically than if a single author were to assign different characteristics to the different narrators.

While reading Will Grayson. I was surprised to find a little handwritten note inside, from somebody named Alicia, advising me to look at John Green and his brother's vlog site at Youtube, and recruiting me into their "nerdfighters' army." I was ridiculously excited that someone was passionate enough about her favourite author to want to share her love of reading with random strangers in a bookshop like this, and it led me to think of reviews I had read of one of David Levithan's other co-authored books:

Dash and Lily's Book of Dares: Rachel Cohn and David Levithan.

Dash is browsing the bookshop one Christmas vacation, when among his favourite author's books, he finds a little red notebook with messages in code from a girl named Lily. Instead of merely contacting her with his personal details, he leaves a dare for her in ret
urn, and so the game begins.

Like Will Grayson, this book is written in alternating chapters: one narrated by Lily, the other by Dash. It's a light-hearted, cheerful and hilarious festive read - I kept laughing out loud on the train and ferry - and a sweet, heartwarming romance. Dash and Lily are loveable, nerdy characters - he is a word nerd, she's a strange, lonely girl, both more or less home alone for Christmas. Their dare game takes them all across New York: through the bookshop, Santa's grotto, nightclubs and Madame Tussauds, with the aid of friends and relations working in each place. Yes, there are a lot of unlikely coincidences and contrivances, but it is another cosy, feel-good novel for the Christmas season.

Hello!

2011-12-01T13:53:00.001Z

My blog has been on holiday, but never fear, dear readers, it is home once more, suntanned and rested and getting into the Christmas spirit. I have tinsel and fairy lights up, spiced apple scented candles and have been merrily mulling the wine. Yes, it is only the first day of December, but I've a busy month coming up at work, and with this week being the last week off before Christmas, I've been counting this as my Christmas holiday.

So, what have I been doing?

At the beginning of November I went to visit friendsandrelations in the London area. While up there, I took the tube up to Highgate, where I popped into a lovely little second-hand bookshop where I met fellow blogger Jen Campbell, author of forthcoming book Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops. I visited her the day before she embarked upon her 100-poem-writing weekend to raise money for medical research. It was quiet in the shop, so we chatted a little about the perils of bookselling, and I asked her for some recommendations. Jen flittered around the shop like a bumblebee, pulling book after book off the shelves until I ended up with a decent-sized pile.

After saying goodbye and good luck for her poetry event, I wandered over to Highgate Cemetary. It wasn't open to the general public, but I whispered "Hello Bod" through the gates, and went for a walk in the park opposite. It was a dull, grey day, but the yellowish grass and golden-bronze trees set against the overcast sky had a beauty of its own. There was a dry chill in the air, which seemed to be the only weather to illustrate this iconic ghost-story setting.

NaNoWriMo

I also took this month off from blogging in order to focus on NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month. Now, I will confess here and now that I didn't do it "properly" by starting a brand-new novel on the 1st November, but picked up an old story I began when I was a student, continued for NaNoWriMo 2009, and added to again this year. It's a werewolf novel which started life as a creative writing exercise and has evolved so much in the last five or six years that if you were to sit down and read it from start to finish - if it had a finish, which it still doesn't - it probably would not make any sense at all. I've no plans for publication, but it is amazing how cathartic it can be to write about werewolves, and it's keeping my imagination working and my fingers typing.

I did not "win" by reaching 50 000 words in a month, but I don't count myself as having failed either, with 32 000 words added to my story. And, for the first time, I can see my way towards an ending.

Where has my reading taken me this month?

I've been to prep school, Oxford and Austria with a narrator very like Stephen Fry in his first novel The Liar.
I've been on a treasure hunt around Manhatten with Kendra and Oscar Kaye and Frank Lee - Remember Me to Harold Square by Paula Danziger.
I've revisited a creepy old boarding school in the middle of nowhere with just four pupils - Down a Dark Hall, Lois Duncan
I've stayed in an old, run-down manor house in the years leading up to the First World War, with a horse-mad family, and the black sheep, Will, whose one love is aeroplanes. Flambards, The Edge of the Clouds, Flambards in Summer - K. M. Peyton
I've lived near Chicago with two boys named Will Grayson. Will Grayson, Will Grayson - John Green and David Levithan
Finally, I've spent time in Ireland with Lucy Silchester and the personification of her Life - Time of my Life, Cecelia Ahern.

I started The Night Circus in October, but for one reason or another I still haven't got very far with it - probably because, being a hardback, I've not been able to fit it into my handbag, and therefore smaller books have taken precedence over it. I'm enjoying it, but taking it very slowly.

I've been buying books galore this past month - so much for my resolution to work my way down my to-read pile! Now we're in December, it's time to break out the old favourites, but there just aren't the hours in the day, and working full-time in retail in the run-up to Christmas means that I predict I will spend much of my designated reading time asleep. If only I could employ David Tennant, Alan Rickman, Stephen Fry and Benedict Cumberbatch to take turns in reading to me...

Anyway, here are my November acquisitions:

What I've been watching:

Since Downton Abbey has come to an end, I haven't had anything to watch on TV, but I rectified a long-standing issue: I had never seen Four Weddings and a Funeral, or Love Actually. Four Weddings left me quite cold: it was a nice enough story, but quite thin, what it said on the tin, really: four weddings, one funeral, a love story. "My mind's made up by the way that I feel" indeed! Great basis for a relationship. On the other hand, I was expecting Love Actually to be much the same. - I don't do mushy stuff - but felt my hard heart turn into a pink fluffy marshmallow within the first five minutes. I loved it, and it will be added to my pile of Christmassy must-sees, taking my chick-flick collection up to three DVDs.

What's coming soon on this blog:

I've been using this week off work to prepare a series on "The Twelve Bookish Days of Christmas," in which I will be sharing my thoughts on my favourite festive scenes and novels. Most of these are childhood favourites that are revisited every year. I also intend to write a season Movie Monday post on the films that make Christmas, and of course some book reviews.

Ellie's Mixing It Up Challenge

2011-11-13T13:25:00.001Z

With Christmas approaching - it's not just retail people who are preparing for the festive season, now, but normal people too - and the new year following on its heels, I've started thinking about blogging challenges for 2012. Now, I'm well aware of how I've neglected the challenges I set myself this year, but, hey, a new year means a new start, doesn't it? One challenge that has really caught my eye is the Mixing It Up challenge, the brainchild of Ellie the Bookshop Girl. (If you haven't come across her blog before, check it out!)

Ellie explains:

"It's all about mixing up your reading, pushing your boundaries and exploring new genres. Take a look at the categories below, and choose one book for each category. It's that easy! You can choose to try anything from a gentle 4 to the full 16 different genres, and the book you pick for each is entirely up to you!"

I am going to be ambitious and go for ALL THE TRIMMINGS AND A CHERRY ON TOP, aiming to read something of every category listed. Many won't prove much of a challenge as I'm quite a wide reader anyway - at least in the realms of fiction. Other categories, such as science, both the natural and social varieties will be nearly new to me, and reading something of everything in the twelve months could be a challenge. I'm putting a few ideas down here, though they are subject to change.

So, the categories:

1. CLASSICS

Initial ideas: Dombey and Son or Our Mutual Friend - Dickens

Vanity Fair - Thackeray

2. BIOGRAPHY

The Brontes - Patricia Ingham

The Fry Chronicles - Stephen Fry

Confessions of a Conjuror - Derren Brown

3. COOKERY, FOOD AND WINE

I saw something about The Real Mrs Beeton in the stockroom at work that caught my interest. Any other suggestions would be welcome.

4. HISTORY

The Battle of Britain - Patrick Bishop

Wedlock - Wendy Moore

5. MODERN FICTION

As this is my most-read genre, I think I won't have much trouble finding something that fits this category.

6. GRAPHIC NOVELS AND MANGA

I plan to continue Neil Gaiman's Sandman series.

Scott Pilgrim

7. CRIME AND MYSTERY

Dexter in the Dark - Jeff Lindsey

Anything in the Dalziel and Pascoe series by Reginald Hill

8. HORROR

I'm sure I can find something about werewolves or suchlike, although there is less of the outright horror in the shops now, and more "urban fantasy" or "paranormal romance." Maybe I'll reread Sarah Waters' The Little Stranger. That scared me all right!

Any suggestions or recommendations welcome.

9. ROMANCE

Oh gosh. I watched Love Actually recently and enjoyed it - isn't that enough of the mushy stuff for the next thirteen and a half months? No?

Well, I might be able to find something.

Duchess By Night by Eloisa James, perhaps? That looks fun!

10. SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY

It seems a safe bet I will be rereading some Pratchett and Gaiman at some point during the year, as well as Harry Potter. Possibly Tolkien, too.

Maybe I'll venture into some science fiction, to take me out of my comfort zone. Or Game of Thrones, or Terry Goodkind.

11. TRAVEL

Bill Bryson, probably.

12. POETRY AND DRAMA

So much Shakespeare, so little time! Perhaps I will venture away from my favourite tragedies and read one of the historical plays - I've never read any of them, to my shame.

13. JOURNALISM AND HUMOUR

Weird Things Customers Say In Bookshops, Jen Campbell.

14. SCIENCE AND NATURAL HISTORY

The only scientist who's been able to hold my attention since I did the coloured-flame experiment about ten years ago at school, is Professor Brian Cox. It's got to be him.

15. CHILDREN'S AND YOUNG ADULT

I have a whole bookshelf just of the classic kids' books - Enid Blyton, L. M. Montgomery, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Elinor M. Brent-Dyer, Lois Lowry, etc. etc. Plenty of scope for rereads.

16. SOCIAL SCIENCES AND PHILOSOPHY
Hmmm... another fairly new genre for me. Maybe that Delusions of Gender thing I saw in the shop recently, or The Invisible Gorilla.

I welcome any suggestions and recommendations for all of these genres. For more info on the challenge and its rules, see Ellie's post.

My Blog Takes A Holiday

2011-11-01T08:00:00.000Z

Looking at my blog posts over the last few months I notice my reviews and even meme posts have become very few and far between. The autumn months at work are the most tiring of the year, as the "Christmas season" in retail begins as soon as the kids have gone back to school after the summer holiday. My inclination to read, and to write about what I've been reading, has slowed down. Books have taken me longer than usual to finish, and more often than not I haven't found anything to say about them - not enough to turn into a review, at any rate. I've been wanting to blog, but just haven't found the words.

The less I've been reviewing, the more I feel guilty. And the harder I scour books for something to write about, the less I actually enjoy reading them. That's not what blogging ought to be about. It's certainly not what reading should be about.

As November dawns, my workload gets heavier and I made the decision to compete in NaNoWriMo - to write a novel in a month, or, in my case, add another 50 000 words to an existing story. Seeing that the blog is likely to suffer even further from neglect, I've made the difficult decision to send it on holiday for a month, to give myself permission not to update. Knowing my contrary mind, and the creativity of NaNoWriMo procrastination, the chances are I may end up blogging anyway, with mini-updates or short thoughts. But I'm not going to force myself to do this.

I will still be reading other people's blogs and can be contacted through email at kae.bookworm at gmail dot com or found on Twitter under the name of KatieWhoCanRead. I'll also be haunting the NaNoWriMo website and forums - finding endless ways of not writing my novel - where I'm ScribblerK80. (Fellow NaNo-ers feel free to say hi!)

Have a great November and I'll see you next month!

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

2011-10-30T17:11:00.000Z

In an interview published in some editions of their partially Douglas-Adams-inspired novel Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman give one definition of "cult classic" as "books which [people have] read over and over and over, books they've dropped in baths and puddles and in bowls of parsnip soup, books held together with duct tape and putty and string, books that are no longer lent out because no one in their right mind would actually borrow something like that without having it clinically sterilized first." I would say that The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is one of the cultiest of cult classics out there, one of those books that everyone knows bits of, even if they don't know the context: the Earth being destroyed to make room for a Galactic Hyperspace Bypass; always know where your towel is; the babelfish; the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe and Everything is 42... etc. etc.

That being established, it seems entirely appropriate that I left my copy of Hitchhiker's in the pub a couple of weeks ago. It's one of those books that it seems right to own several copies of in a lifetime, and I trawled the town's charity shops in the confident faith that one of them would have a copy for sale for £1 or so. In fact, two did.

Now, I'm not one for science fiction (excluding Doctor Who which to my mind is fantasy with aliens.) The fiction is all very well, but science? I'll leave that for someone else. As such, my feelings towards Hitchhiker's are a mixture of love and grudging tolerance.

Some parts make perfect sense in a very strange, surreal sort of way. Douglas Adams had a wonderful way with words, hilarious, sometimes profound, often spot-on.

"The planet has - or rather had - a problem, which was this: most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy."

"The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don't."

"It is a well-known fact, that those people who most want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it[...]Anyone who is capable of getting themelves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job." - something I have cynically said of politicians for years!

"There is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss."

As the story progresses, elements of the story fit together perfectly in context, just as long as you were paying close attention to what came earlier. Other parts, I find to be near-unreadable, stuffed full of ridiculous names and pseudo-scientific waffle that makes my brain sulk. My favourite parts of the story are the Earth-set scenes in Hitchhiker's Guide, the cricketty part of Life, The Universe and Everything, and the entirety of So Long and Thanks For All The Fish, in which our reluctant hero Arthur Dent finds himself, improbably, back on Earth which was now not destroyed, and falling in love.

But my main reason for reading this book is, I'll admit it, Marvin. Poor, dear old Marvin, the Paranoid Android (who is not actually paranoid, so much as depressed. Really, really, utterly miserable. Poor metal man.) My affection for him was rekindled after I knitted the film version, a knitted doll that seemed to take on Marvin's personality before he was even sewn together. Of course, this meant that I found the last chapter of So Long And Thanks For All The Fish utterly heartbreaking.

Oh, and the answer to Life, The Universe and Everything may be 42, but what is the question? On my latest reading of the book of that title, I wondered if I had found the answer... or rather, the question! (You know what I mean!) After meeting a man who had sworn to tell the Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing But The Truth, and was obeying this to the letter, Arthur Dent muses:

"I'd like to hear what he had to say. Presumably he would know what the Question to the Ultimate Answer is. It's always bothered me that we never found out."

The next thing anyone says, seemingly unrelated, although not technically a question, could be answered by 42, and would make as much sense as an Ultimate Question as anything else.*

When the film adaptation was released just a few years ago, when I saw the Guide itself appear onscreen, despite its being voiced by Stephen Fry, I sniffed and said to myself, "You call that a book? It's got no pages!"

Six years later, I wonder if there is a Kindle cover out there with the words "DON'T PANIC" inscribed in large friendly letters on the front. Or if there isn't, then why not?

*Spoilers: "Think of a number," said the computer, "any number."

A Graphic Novel Novice Reads The Sandman: Vol. 1. Preludes and Nocturnes

2011-10-23T14:33:00.000+01:00

Since becoming a Neil Gaiman fangirl last year and reading my way through his novels and short story collections, it became only a matter of time before I embarked upon a new adventure: the comic books that made his name, The Sandman, now collected in graphic novel format. Aware that I was entering a new, inner-circle of geekdom, but recommended by my friend who went before me, I trundled down to the library to check out volume one: Preludes and Nocturnes.

I soon discovered that graphic novels require a different kind of reading to prose fiction, even illustrated prose. You have to read the pictures (which, they say, are worth a thousand words) at the same time as the words. It takes some training of the eyes, or so I found. I had picked up Preludes and Nocturnes at work, and flicked through it in the stockroom, reading a few pages, but out of context, it didn't make a lot of sense. It takes some time to get really started, introducing different sets of characters, some living ordinary lives, others distinctly extraordinary, who are connected, loosely to each other, or via the main core of the story, by their dreams. When the personification of Dream is removed from the picture, a nightmare scenario results.

Something that took me by surprise reading this was how different comic books seem to be part of the same world, in ways that fiction isn't. I'm used to one author being in charge of one story-world. But even I, comic book virgin that I was, recognised some of the names that popped up here: John Constantine, Arkham Asylum, and one or two others. To a connoisseur, I'm probably stating the obvious, but this interaction of stories was a new experience for me.

It took me a while to find my feet here, and I had mixed feelings about The Sandman as a story, and the graphic novel as a medium. Neil himself admits that this volume is patchy, as he (and the artists) were themselves trying to work out what The Sandman really is. There is beauty and strangeness and ugliness, and you can tell when different artists have drawn the same characters. The art style is one I have yet to get used to, even after getting into the habit of "reading" the pictures as well as the words. It caused something of a barrier against be being completely drawn into the story, and horror scenes just came across as gruesome and zombieish rather than enhancing a creepy atmosphere.

Yet there is much that shines. The story is fascinating, and even early on, there are moments that leave me breathless with their brilliances. The battle of wits was wonderful, and in the last story of the collection, "The Sound of Her Wings" was the point where Neil felt he had found his voice. I concur. This chapter serves as a poetic, pensive epilogue to the volume, where words, character and sheer Neilishness take a firm hold of the story.

This is where it gets good.

I have neglected you, dear blog.

2011-10-15T14:30:00.000+01:00

Logging into my blog, I realise it has been a fortnight since I last updated, and my reviews before this have been rather infrequent. So, what have I been up to lately?

In the grand tradition of British weather, it has been unpredictable. After about three months of autumn, suddenly, at the end of September and beginning of October, the sun popped its head out from behind its cloudy blankets to give us a surprise week of summer - a week that, defying all tradition, coincided with my week off! I celebrated my birthday with a barbecue in the garden, and then, two days later, hunted out my winter coat, scarf and hat.

My reading has been on the slow side, and the books seem to have been all along the same sorts of lines of British, somewhat surreal comic fantasy or science fiction. My last review was of Rivers of London. After this came a reread of Pratchett's Witches Abroad, The Good Fairies of New York by Martin Millar - recommended by Neil Gaiman, who wrote the introduction of my edition, with the advice not to lend it out. Oops... Judith has it now. Then came The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Unfortunately, I had not got very far into the book, before I left it behind in a pub. For some reason, it seems to be the right sort of book to do this to - a cult classic, one which will need replacing many times in a lifetime. I trawled through the town's charity shops in search of a replacement, secure in the knowledge that one of them, somewhere, must have a copy. Like I said, it's that sort of book. My faith was rewarded, and I bought it for 50p.

I also watched the film fairly recently, and was inspired by one of the scenes to knit myself a Marvin doll. His personality started to come through before I had even finished sewing him together. I'm keeping a watchful eye on my teddies. I think they are all right, and won't need therapy...

On my week off, I went to Chichester for a couple of days to watch a production of Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, starring Michael Ball and Imelda Staunton. It was a fantastic show, hilarious, creepy and at times terrifying.

I've just recently got stuck into the second series of Downton Abbey on TV. I missed series 1 the first time around, but recorded it when it was repeated, and watched in the run-up to series 2. I am hooked! I'm loving the escapism into a world very different from my own, and engrossed in the lives of both the family Upstairs and, even more so, the servants Downstairs. Previously unsympathetic characters are becoming more rounded, the ice-cold Lady Mary is becoming nicer, Maggie Smith as the Dowager Countess is, without fail, brilliant. Only former footman Thomas still seems 2-dimensional, but I suspect that his hidden depths will be made known as the series goes along.

Do you remember me reviewing a book called Wight Moon: Out of the Shadows a little while back? It's a self-published book by a friend of mine, a local author, about a community of vampires on the Isle of Wight. I've spent the last few weeks editing book 2 for her, and I can reveal that this one is even better than the last, full of mystery and suspense that kept me glued to the screen long after I'd promised myself "one more chapter." There's a plotline that feels like a classic gothic novel, expansion of Elaine's version of vampire lore, and secrets come to light about the characters we thought we knew. Excellent stuff, and I can't wait to read book 3.

Rivers of London, Ben Aaronovitch

2011-10-01T00:23:00.000+01:00

I've had my eye on Rivers of London since it was published earlier this year. Having spent three years at university on the outskirts, I've left part of my heart in London. It is a city made up of so many layers that it is quite conceivable that fantasy could be just another of these layers. Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere is the best example of this, and Rivers of London made me wonder if it could be another Neverwhere. It is half crime story and half wizardry, with some element that reminded me of American Gods and others that made me think of Terry Pratchett's city watch if they were relocated to London. I didn't find Rivers of London as indispensible as the aformentioned two, but like Tom Holt's comic fantasies, it was an enjoyable read-once story.

Rivers of London is full of the dry, understated sort of humour that seems (to me, a Brit) as particularly British:

"Martin, noting the good-quality coat and shoes, had just pegged the body as a drunk when he noticed that it was in fact missing its head."

"One officer stated with a suddenly sober Martin while his partner confirmed that there was a body and that, everything else being equal, it probably wasn't a case of accidental death."

The book is peppered throughout with popular-culture references: Star Wars, Harry Potter, Lovecraft and possibly Doctor Who, among others. The narrator, Peter Grant, is a clever but easily-distracted policeman who is trying to avoid being assigned permanent paperwork duties. Peter ends up apprentice to a wizard, investigating a string of strange and unsettlingly familiar crimes, living in a Folly with the wizard, a dog called Toby and a creepy housemaid who wouldn't be out of place in a Japanese horror film.

Early on in the story, I had a mad-crazy realisation that I knew what was going on! (The big revelation comes about halfway through.) There are some clues in the book and even on the cover - if you know what you're looking for, and especially if you ever visited Covent Garden or the English seaside as a child. What is a nasty crime to start off with, feels even darker when the source material is identified. It certainly puts a new spin onto one of the Great British Institutions.*spoilers below.

Although I enjoyed the humour and was impressed by the ideas of Rivers of London, I found the storytelling a bit confusing in places. The scene changes could be jumpy, not always clearly explained and I'd find myself having what I call "QI moments" after the panel show, where the loss of concentration for a split second could leave me utterly bewildered. There were a couple of significant plot advancements which made me wonder, how did we get here? How did he work this out? I had the feeling that Aaronovitch knew where he wanted to go with his story but not always how to get there. Still, it was an enjoyable read and I look forward to reading the sequel, Moon over Soho.

Rivers of London is published in the USA under the title Midnight Riot.

*The Punch and Judy Show. Out of the safe, slapstick context of the puppet theatre, this is horrible! Even in context. I saw part of a Punch and Judy show in the summer and wondered how they were still allowed!

Movie Monday: Sweeney Todd

2011-09-26T10:00:00.000+01:00

The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Ah, don’t you love a good musical? Jolly-jolly, feel-good fun-and games, full of cheery cockneys bursting into song at the slightest provocation; fun for all the family! No? Perhaps not. In 2007, Tim Burton took on the challenge of adapting Stephen Sondheim’s classic tale of madness, revenge and pies; a bleak and blood-soaked, yet darkly comic masterpiece, with murders you can really hum.*

I confess, my initial reaction to hearing about this film was to groan and roll my eyes at the casting. Nothing against either Johnny Depp or Helena Bonham Carter, both of whom I have a great respect for, but I felt that the Burton/Depp/Bonham-Carter collaborations were getting a bit beyond a joke. There are other actors in the world, you know. And the trailer didn’t help matters. Depp’s mockney accent was disconcertingly reminiscent of his role as Captain Jack Sparrow. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to shake the loveable rogue from my mind, but his first appearance allayed my fears. The characters may share the accent and cheekbones, but there the resemblance ends. The hatred and sarcasm that infuses every word as he sneers, “There’s no place like London!” is as far from the irrepressible pirate as you can get. In fact, when I saw a clip of a Pirates film recently, it took me a moment to remind myself that it actually was the same actor. Todd’s mind is a dark, bitter place, seen through dead-looking eyes occasionally animated by a crazed spark.

Yet Sondheim’s version of Sweeney Todd is more than just a pantomime psychopath, but a man driven over the edge by injustice, grief and an obsession with revenge. His backstory helps the viewer to understand his motivation and not quite disapprove as much as one might expect. After all: “It’s man devouring man, my dear/and who are we to deny it in here?” I have to say, I agree with Discworld's Sam Vimes, and can't see why anyone would want someone else waving a sharp blade anywhere near their neck in the first place. Especially if one is a creep and a villain who makes enemies like Mrs Lovett makes pies.

There is a stellar cast featuring many Harry Potter veterans – perhaps not surprising as most British actors have featured in that series – all Death Eaters, former Death Eaters or other Dark Wizards. As well as Helena Bonham Carter, we have a gloriously disturbing performance from Alan Rickman as the evil Judge Turpin, and Timothy “Wormtail” Spall as the crawling yes-man Beadle Bamford. Finally, newcomer Jamie Campbell Bower (Gellert Grindelwald) appears as the young romantic hero, whose name refuses to stick in my head and so therefore will be called Pretty Boy forever and always. Campbell Bower had a lovely tenor singing voice, but his facial acting was, shall we say, not quite there yet. I discussed this with my sister during the scenes in which he was caught “gandering” at Sweeney’s daughter by her guardian Judge Turpin.

Me: If Alan Rickman’s Voice was doing that to me, I wouldn’t be looking mildly curious. I wouldn’t need to act; I’d actually be terrified.

Jen: I don’t know; I think this is his "”I’m peeing myself and trying not to look cold and damp” look.

Maybe my heart is as black as Sweeney’s, but I found the love story between Johanna and Pretty Boy rather silly, if not downright Twilight-creepy. Either Pretty Boy is lacking some of his wits, or has a misplaced sense of chivalry, but after being beaten and thrown from the house, he’s promising to “steal you/Johanna!” One wonders whether Johanna is fated to exchange a creepy stalker of sixty for one of sixteen…
Apparently Johnny Depp was nervous about taking a singing role, but he does an admirable job. His singing voice is unpolished, a bit harsh, but full of emotion and always true to the character. He is, after all, an actor first and foremost. Depp leads the cast well, and his voice contrasts nicely with Jamie Campbell Bower’s pure, soaring tenor, and Alan Rickman’s menacing bass.

Helena Bonham Carter playing a messy-haired madwoman might sound very familiar to Harry Potter fans, but her Mrs Lovett is a much more subtle character than Bellatrix Lestrange, motherly and down-to-earth, darkly comic in her deadpan, practical manner after her initial shock at discovering that her lodger has just killed a man. “Seems an awful waste//I mean, with the price of meat what it is when you get it/if you get it…” “Ah!” “Good, you’ve got it…!”

Yes, Sweeney Todd is gory and gruesome, but what can you expect with the subject matter? Despite preparing myself I was quite horrified on my first viewing, but after the first murder, one seems to become somewhat desensitised to most of the blood, right until the final murders which become shocking again. But Sweeney Todd is more than an unashamed splatter-fest, and even the messy moments are quite emotional in their way. Musically, my favourite part is the reprise of “Johanna,” when Sweeney and the Pretty Boy are singing two separate melodies. This song charts Sweeney’s descent into madness, and if you listen to the lyrics – wow, they are heartrending! While he mechanically slashes his way through his clients, he seems to be aware that he is becoming disconnected and out of control, vaguely conscious of his loss of self and purpose and his inevitable fate.

“I think we shall not meet again/my little dove/my sweet/Johanna”

“And though I’ll think of you, I guess, until the day I die/I think I miss you less and less as every day goes by/Johanna!”

Curse you, Stephen Sondheim, we’re not supposed to feel sorry for a barber who murders his clients and turns them into pies!

I’m off to see the stage show in Chichester this week. No Death Eaters in this version, but another Harry Potter veteran whose character was actually even more unpleasant! This version will star Michael Ball as Sweeney Todd and Imelda Staunton playing Mrs Lovett. I can’t wait.

*Maskerade, Terry Pratchett

Paranormalcy, Kiersten White

2011-09-25T23:41:00.001+01:00

I'd been vaguely aware of Paranormalcy for a while, from other people's "mailbox" and review posts, but I'll be honest, it really didn't jump out and grab me, probably because of the title. I'd been coming to think the word "paranormal" to be a bit overused, an easy categorisation of an entire genre of books, without anything to say what makes this one different. Also, as a Brit, the word "normalcy" just doesn't sound right, and that, too, might have turned me off. But then, I happened upon author Kiersten White's blog, and after reading a few posts, decided I wanted to see more, went out and bought the book.

Yesterday, I was sorting through my books, picked up Paranormalcy to add to my to-read pile, then flicked it open. I was going to pick up and reread The Princess Bride, but upon opening Paranormalcy, literally from the first line or two, I could not put this book down.

The first chapter was called, "Oh, Bite Me!"

"Wait- did you- You just yawned!" The vampire's arms, raised over his head in the classic Dracula pose, dropped to his sides. He pulled his exaggerated white fangs back behind his lips. "What, imminent death isn't exciting enough for you?""Oh, stop pouting. But really,the widow's peak? The pale skin? The black cape? Where did you even get that thing, a costume store?"

I had to read more. Just one more sentence, to see if it was as funny as the last, and another, to find out what exactly was going on. It didn't take very long to get a clear picture of narrator Evie: Sassy, snarky, exuding attitude, but a girly-girl at heart. She might be employed by the International Paranormal Containment Agency to track down supernatural creatures - vampires, werewolves, faeries, you name it - for monitoring, but despite her unusual life, Evie herself is just a normal teenage girl, who would like nothing better than to be an ordinary high school student with a driving license and a locker. Just because she has the unique ability to see beneath the glamours - magical disguises and illusions - of "paranormals" - doesn't mean she herself is anything but normal.

But then immortal creatures start dropping dead by the dozen, and the person responsible is somehow connected to Evie. They seem to have more in common with each other than any of the other weird and wonderful creatures IPCA is keeping tabs on. Perhaps Evie's not as normal as she thought.

I'm usually wary of fantasy stories set in the real world which have too many different species of impossible creatures, preferring to stick to just one. But Paranormalcy really worked. Although "paranormals" aren't known to most humans, to Evie they're just differently normal. Her best friend is a mermaid, her ex-boyfriend a faerie, many of her colleagues werewolves, and her new crush Lend is something no one quite knows how to classify. It had a bit of an Eyre Affair feel to me, with its humour and matter-of-fact acceptance of the bizarre. The book launches straight into the action, the world-building being done by immersion rather than exposition, but it is easily picked up and understood.

At first I was a bit surprised that Evie was only sixteen; her bag-and-tag job seemed far too dangerous for one so young. But as we get to know her, she is a very realistic teenager, sometimes a bit bratty but basically likable, funny, obsessed with all things pink and sparkly and her favourite high school soap opera. I found her fascination with all things high school very understandable - I'd have loved to go to an American high school, or a boarding school, just to see how different it was from my own school experience!

Kiersten White has a refreshing take on various different "paranormals" from myth and literature. Her vampires may look suave and seductive, but all Evie sees is walking corpses. Sexy(!) Her friend Lish, the mermaid, lives in a tank of water and can't speak English, so has a computer translate her speech for her. But some of her more imaginative language translates to "bleep," something that Evie picked up. I'm not sure whether "bleep" necessarily worked in this book all the time. I liked the idea of it as an in-joke that turned into a habit, and I certainly think that less is more when it comes to swearing, but it sometimes jarred, if it was at a point of high tension - I'd rather nothing at all than a substitute-swear. But that's a small criticism.

Evie's double, Vivian, was an interesting antagonist that constantly kept me questioning the morality of Evie's world. She was a villain who evoked pity and caused me to wonder whether she was really all that bad, or if there was something in her reasoning. There wasn't a clear-cut black-and-white solution to this tale, which I appreciated.

I've read on other people's reviews that, despite its title, Paranormalcy is more an Urban Fantasy than a Paranormal Romance (which I've translated as meaning that plot and character come first, rather than just being an excuse for the IMBC* mushy stuff.) It is a fun, fast-paced story that had me grinning and turning the pages right the way through. And there was a wonderful jab at Twilight and the like:

Arianna snorted. "Why on earth would a vampire go to high school?"

Why indeed?

*Interchangeable Magical Boyfriend Creature

Persuasion, Jane Austen

2011-09-23T20:47:00.000+01:00

There could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.

I discovered the works of Jane Austen when I was in my late teens: first Northanger Abbey when I was in the sixth form, followed quickly by the rest through the first year or so at university. Persuasion was my least favourite at first, although I've come to appreciate it more now I'm older. The last of Austen's novels, not published until after her death, Persuasion is a more grown-up tale than her usual social and romantic satires. The cast is older than Austen's usual 17- to 22-year-old heroines; Anne Eliot is twenty-seven and considered by all an old maid. She has experienced life, been disappointed in her dreams and is now making the best of things.

As a young woman, Anne Eliot experienced a whirlwind romance with Frederick Wentworth, an officer in the navy. Advised by a trusted friend that the marriage would be imprudent, Anne broke the engagement, Wentworth's heart and her own. Wentworth went to sea where he made a name and a fortune for himself, while Anne stayed at home with her intolerably snobbish family, putting all the effort in keeping the household running smoothly, and receiving none of the credit. Eight years later, despite Anne's attempt to stop her father and sister from living beyond their means, the Eliots are forced to let out their home, and the new tenants are Captain Wentworth's sister and brother-in-law. Both parties put off their reunion as long as they can, but the inevitable meeting is confirmation for Anne that the passing years have not cooled her love for Captain Wentworth. But what of his feelings? Is this a second chance for the couple to receive their happily-ever-after?

Of course. This is Jane Austen after all. Yet this time the ending doesn't have the usual feel of being a foregone conclusion, and my best friend actually didn't expect it to end well on her first reading. The obstacles between the young lovers are more internal than usual. The first time around, it was the friends' and family's objections that came between Anne and Frederick, which we have seen before in Austen with the Tilneys, the Ferrars, Lady Catherine de Bourgh... you get the picture. The outright snobbery of "NO COMMONER LIKE YOU WILL MARRY MY OFFSPRING," is relatively easily resolved compared with the well-intentioned, "I'm not so sure this is a good idea," of Emma's amateur matchmaking, and here, Lady Russell, Anne's mentor and substitute mother-figure. The difference here is that Lady Russell was successful in her persuasion, and the lovers have to deal with the consequences of this: eight years of anger and hurt on Wentworth's side, and eight years of doubt and regret on Anne's. Most of the scenes containing the former lovers feature very little interaction between them, and yet the tension is palpable. There is a sort of claustrophobia in Anne's acute awareness of Wentworth's every word, every action, and that he, too, is watching her just as closely. The resolution, when at last it comes, is all the sweeter for the book-long wait, and the eight years that preceded the first chapter.

"You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own, than when you almost broke it eight years and a half ago. I have loved none but you."

I loudly declare myself to be immune to "the mushy stuff," but Persuasion is a romance that makes me feel swoony, a true, deep and constant love that goes above and beyond most of the stories that are labelled as romance. Persuasion used to be my least favourite Austen novel, but now I suspect it is the best.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, Aimee Bender

2011-09-15T08:00:00.000+01:00

Today I bring to you another selection from the Richard and Judy Book Club. This week's review title has been on my to-read pile for a while.

Jusst before her ninth birthday, Rose Edelstein discovers she can taste the emotions of everyone who has had a hand in making her food - a weird quirk that is much more of a curse than it sounds, because like food, humans are a complex creation with far more going on inside them than it appears on the outside. The worst thing for Rose is when she eats homemade food as she finds out far more than she ought about her closest loved ones. The lemon cake of the title, baked by her jolly and creative mother, tastes empty. Incomplete.

The book follows Rose through her childhood as she tries to live a normal life with this curse. Too many people contribute towards the simplest sandwich, which means every bite Rose eats is a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. It's heartbreaking to see such an essential and normally enjoyable part of life being a burden to a small girl. She also has to deal with her family's secrets. To an outsider, they are a rather average family, each member having their "little ways" but nothing out of the ordinary. Her dad is a very normal, all-American family man and businessman, her brother Joseph showing signs of something like Autism/Asberger's - a scientific genius who has no social skills and does not get the recognition at school he deserves. Mom, the main cook of the family, despite her cheerful exterior, is unfulfilled, disappointed, and Rose can tell instantly from the taste of her cooking when she embarks upon an affair with a colleague.

I found the first half of the novel to be very readable magic realism, a fascinating concept that was written in such a way as to make you really appreciate food, family and feelings. These things are portrayed as varied, sometimes contradictory, all mixed up together to give a great impression of the unique way in which Rose views the world - an impressive feat.

In part two of the novel, when our characters are several years older, Bender focuses more upon Joseph, Rose's elder brother. He is still unsocial to the point of reclusiveness, and now he has his own apartment, gives the family much cause for concern by frequently disappearing without explanation. When his mystery is solved, I felt that the book became something else, moving away from the magical realism to become just plain surreal, and I found it difficult to suspend my disbelief. I came to understand what Aimee Bender was aiming for, but did not think she was entirely successful.

Still, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake is a fascinating, original concept which explores what it means to be human. The small cast is brought to life well, leaving me really feeling that I had got to know Rose, her family and friends inside out. The writing is beautiful and rich, but I was left feeling as though something was missing from the story, that I couldn't quite place.

Movie Monday: Coraline

2011-09-12T18:00:00.000+01:00

I've been thinking about it, and I really can't come to a conclusion on how strange Coraline really is.

A bit weird
Very weird indeed
Downright twisted

Given that this film is based upon a book by Neil Gaiman, I would be inclined towards the "twisted" explanation, and yet somehow this manages to be a children's film. And it starts off as a fairly standard kids' fantasy in the tradition of Alice in Wonderland or the Chronicles of Narnia. A little girl moves to a new home with her parents, is bored, goes exploring, and finds a little door into another world; a world like and yet not quite like the one she calls home.

In the real world, her parents are far too busy to play with her. In the real world, her dad cooks the dinner - and it's disgusting. In the real world, her parents are intending to plant a beautiful garden, but they hate dirt, and it's raining.

In this world, her parents have nothing better to do than to shower Coraline with the love and attention she craves. In this world, Mother cooks up a feast for every meal, and Father has planted a garden just for Coraline. And they like nothing better than playing outside in the rain and the dirt. Their apartment is just like the one in the real world, but nicer.

Just try not to worry about the buttons...

Coraline draws on the grand old tradition of fairy tales - not the Disneyfied version that we're used to these days, but the darker, stranger originals. I noticed plenty of fairyland motifs throughout the book - the fairy ring of mushrooms, the glass with the hole in it that reveals "Bad things!" "No! Lost things!" (or removes all glamour to show things as they really are.) The first time I watched Coraline I shouted at her "DON'T EAT IT!" when she was at the dinner table with her Other Mother and Other Father, afraid that, like fairy food, it would mean that she would never be able to leave...

Coraline is a stop-motion animation directed by Henry Selick of The Nightmare Before Christmas fame. It's not a style of film I usually watch, but it is perfect for this story, with a rather twisty-looking, surreal style that complements the spooky atmosphere of the tale. (A live-action Coraline would be far too disturbing for a kids' film!) I think if this film had existed when I was small, I would have been terrified by the button-eyed characters before their sinister intentions were even revealed, and as such there's a small part of me that shouts "HOW CAN THIS POSSIBLY BE SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN?!" Yet kids love it. (When my colleague's daughter was nine, she was constantly watching this film or reading the book.) And in fact, Coraline is one of those rare stories written by someone who hasn't forgotten what is the right amount of scary for children. Like the works of Roald Dahl, this is far more disturbing for adults than for children. I believe Gaiman deliberately wrote a story that plays upon the worst adult fears - if you ignore your kids, you could lose them forever! - while children read or watch this as an exciting adventure quest.

American Gods, Neil Gaiman

2011-09-11T18:11:00.000+01:00

I always feel very inadequate trying to review anything by Neil Gaiman, which may explain why, with the exception of The Graveyard Book, I've always had to read (or watch) his work at least twice before attempting to write about it. Mr Gaiman tackles enormous themes with a deceptive appearance of simplicity, writing with such poetry and beauty that you have to read a passage more than once. I said it of Neverwhere, and I said it of his Doctor Who episode - Neil Gaiman uses fantasy to make the real world make a bit more sense.

American Gods is without doubt Gaiman's masterpiece so far, doing for the whole of the United States of America (or as much of it as will fit within 650-odd pages) what he did for London in Neverwhere. It is a big, sprawling, messy novel, as befits the nation whose story it tells, a country whose identity is made from bits of all other cultures, mixed together to create something unique and unlike any of them.

"This is the only country in the world," said Wednesday, into the stillness, "that worries about what it is.""What?""The rest of them know what they are. No one ever needs to go searching for the heart of Norway. Or looks for the soul of Mozambique. They know what they are."

But what exactly is American Gods? What kind of novel is it? It's a cocktail of mythologies combined to make a new mythology. It's a road novel. A journey of self-discovery. A history of a nation, if not a conventional one. There are elements of the thriller. It's not really a fantasy, though it is full of the fantastic. It's not a horror, though there are horrifying elements. It's a hodgepodge of story elements that can't be pigeonholed, don't always fit together and yet it would be a lesser piece of writing without any of the parts.

The basic premise is this: What happened to the gods, the folklore, the mythical heroes, when the people who brought them to America have died, or abandoned them, or stopped believing?
The protagonist is a man known only as Shadow, a huge, quiet man with a Past, released from prison three days early due to the death of his wife. He meets Mr Wednesday, a stranger who knows his name, and who gives him a job, so that he gets mixed up in the affairs of the old gods, who are preparing for a war with the new: Media, Technology, et al. Still grieving his wife - who doesn't let being dead keep her from him - and adjusting to life outside the prison walls, everything Shadow thought he knew about the world is turned upside down.

American Gods is very different in tone from Neverwhere, more challenging, darker and less comic. It is said that Gaiman fans either really like or really dislike this novel. This isn't quite true of me. I prefer Neverwhere, which is one of my favourite novels of all time. Still, I recognise that American Gods might be a better book, is certainly a bigger book (and I don't just mean in the number of pages) and is one to be savoured. It lingers in the mind long after you close the pages, and is one to be read more than once to get the most out of it. I've just finished reading number 2, and feel as though I've only just scratched the surface of what this book is about, or what it's trying to say. My review was never going to do the book justice, so I'll let Mr Ibis have the last word:

"One describes a tale best by telling the tale. You see? The way one describes a story, to oneself or to the world, is by telling the story. It is a balancing act and it is a dream. The more accurate the map, the more it resembles the territory. The most accurate map possible would be the territory, and thus would be perfectly accurate and perfectly useless.
The tale is the map that is the territory.
You must remember this."

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, Ransom Riggs

2011-09-02T22:33:00.001+01:00

With its simple cover illustrated with an old black-and-white photograph, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children can be immediately identified as a strange, spooky book. Apart from the lack of fancy artwork or graphics, there seems to be something a bit uncanny about the girl. Perhaps it's just the obvious oldness of the picture, being blurry, unfocused, not sharp like modern photography. Maybe it's the title. Perhaps it's the fact that the little girl's feet are not quite touching the ground...

Miss Peregrine is a unique book in that author Ransom Riggs has illustrated his eerie fantasy story with real vintage photographs found and rescued by collectors; photographs that, like the girl on the cover, seem not quite right. The photographs themselves are fascinating, and I would have happily bought this book for them alone. But around the photo collection, Riggs has woven a dark, twisted narrative based around an orphanage that is not as it seems.

After the death of his beloved grandfather, American teenager Jacob goes to an island off Wales. He hopes to see the children's home where his grandfather spent the war years after his escape from the Nazis in mainland Europe. What Jacob discovers, at first, is a ruin. No one has lived in Miss Peregrine's Home for decades. As he explores deeper, he discovers stranger truths about Miss Peregrine and the children in her care than he could ever have dreamed of.

This book drew me in straight away, with a strong character in Jacob's grandfather, and the mystery of his death, and his past life. The ruined orphanage is a classic gothic ruined house, thick with atmosphere and unfinished business, on the borderline between uncanny-unexplained and fantasy. I felt that the book was at its best at this point, before the secret of Miss Peregrine's was made clear. Even when the truth began to unfold, I was impressed with the originality and unexpected explanation of a ghostly situation.

However, once the scene had been set and the story started to get under way, I confess I found myself losing interest. I felt that Miss Peregrine became less remarkable when the danger, the villains and monsters, were identified. The genre seemed to switch from atmospheric ghost story (of a sort) to a much more generic teen fantasy adventure, and it lost its grip on me. It is set up for the possibility of a sequel, but I feel it would be more effective if it were kept concise and unique.

A Little Stranger - Candia McWilliam

2011-08-28T12:30:00.002+01:00

When Daisy needs a nanny for her toddler son, she thinks 22-year-old Margaret Pride is perfect: sensible if a little old-fashioned and reserved, firm but immediately beloved by the child. Yet as the new nanny becomes established in the household, her behaviour doesn't always quite add up, and it becomes apparent that Margaret is not all she seems.

Perhaps I was influenced by having read the back blurb of the book, but from the very first pages I did not trust Margaret. Although narrator Daisy describes her in positive terms: "pretty," "warm," "eager to please," Margaret's own actions and words come across as stiff, stuffy and unnatural. Her first words are a firm triple negative: "No. Never. Not at all." She says "I am," and "I do not" instead of the more natural-sounding "I'm" and "I don't," and her emphasis on neatness - wanting to wear a uniform to work, shunning jeans - makes her seem much older than her young age. These small details, though subtle, put a distance between Margaret and the reader. She never quite seems comfortable, and as such, I never felt comfortable around her. As the book progresses, Margaret's behaviour seems strange, sometimes suspicious, but Daisy seems completely oblivious. I found myself wanting to shout at the narrator for not seeing through her nanny's facade.

McWilliam sets many parallels between the two women. Daisy, after all, used to be used as a nickname for Margaret, and as Margaret weasels her way into the heart of the household, Daisy retreats from the family. Margaret takes on a role as substitute mother for John, and mistress of the house. And it's not only Margaret who isn't all she seems. Daisy, in her seeming oblivion, is an unreliable narrator, and we learn more from what she shows, rather than what she tells us.

A Little Stranger is an intriguing book with a menacing atmosphere. At 145 pages, it is more of a novella than a novel, yet it still took me a while to read. It is long enough for Daisy to spend chapters navel-gazing, reflecting upon her past, and much of the prose is heavily tinted in purple. I felt at times that McWilliam tried too hard to be "literary." Daisy's world seems very old-fashioned, set in an upper middle-class home with nannies and other servants. Except for a few references to (for example) cassette tapes, I would have place this story in the early 20th century, between the wars.

Top Ten Tuesdays: Unreviewed books

2011-08-23T21:56:00.003+01:00

I've kept this blog for three years now, but only in the last year have I been updating it regularly, posting reviews of most of my reading material - but not all. If I don't review a book, it doesn't necessarily mean that I didn't like it; on the contrary, there are several books I've loved so much that I just haven't been able to do them justice. In other cases, I feel that a review would be just an inferior rehash of the book's synopsis and a "This is great! Read it!"

Top Ten Tuesdays are a weekly blog feature held at The Broke and the Bookish, and this week the challenge is to list ten of the books we'd love to share with other bibliophiles, but which for one reason or another we haven't reviewed.

1. The Book Thief - Markus Zusak. The story of a little girl growing up in Nazi Germany. Narrated by Death. Beautiful, eye-opening and heartbreaking.

2. The Help - Kathryn Stockett. This novel has recently been turned into a film which is now (USA) or soon (UK) showing in cinemas. Three women in 1960s Mississippi unite to challenge people not just to accept "the way things are" but to really think about their attitudes towards race, primarily, as well as class and gender.

3. Good Omens - Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. A Cult classic, written by two great names in modern fantasy, before they were really famous, Good Omens shows the bumbling efforts of Aziraphale (angel) and Crowley (an angel who did not fall so much as saunter vaguely downwards) to prevent Armageddon. Hilarious and quotable, with a brilliant cast of characters, Good Omens is fun to play "guess-who-wrote-which-bit" with. (Apparently even they aren't quite sure.)

4. Fingersmith - Sarah Waters. With deliberate parallels to Oliver Twist, this page-turner keeps you guessing and brings to life the murky underworld of Victorian England.

5. The Earth Hums in B Flat - Mari Strachan. A quirky family story set in 1950s Wales, told by an imaginative 12-year-old who takes it upon herself to investigate the disappearance of a local man, opening up more cans of worms than anyone could have foreseen.

6. Crow Lake - Mary Lawson. Another family story, this time Canadian. Not a lot really happens, to be honest, but it's a story with characterisation strong enough for that not to matter. A short read, maybe 200 pages or so, but one which really draws you into the family's world.

7. The Tales of Beedle the Bard - J. K. Rowling. Harry Potter fans will know of at least one of the fairy tales, as it is a critical part of the final novel. There are five fairy tales in all, simple but flawless - and one rather gruesome one! The book is enhanced by explanatory notes on each tale from Professor Albus Dumbledore himself, and his musings are typically whimsical yet philosophical.

8. The Company of Liars - Karen Maitland. The year is 1348, and a band of misfits travel across England, trying to avoid the Black Plague. Many are on the run, all have strange tales to tell, but can they trust each other? This book ended on a twist which led me to want to read it all over again, to see if the new knowledge would change the way I read it.

9. The Distant Hours - Kate Morton. Ms Morton has written three novels now, and has pretty well established a recogniseable pattern of family tales, linked through the generations. This doesn't mean her stories are formulaic, though. Far from it! The Distant Hours is a modern gothic tale with all the best parts of such a story: an old house, mysterious sisters bound together by their past, and at the heart of it all, another story.

10. The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series - Alexander McCall Smith. This is a lovely, cosy series of books set in Botswana. Mma Ramotswe's cases may not be dramatic compared to a New York detective, but every one is taken seriously, because every case is important to the person who is asking for help. McCall Smith writes which such a love for the country and characters, and the series has a gentle, innocent feel to it that is hard to find in adult fiction nowadays. This is a series I go to for a light, feel-good read, and can easily get through one book in an afternoon or evening.

The Annotated Alice - Lewis Carroll and Martin Gardner

2011-08-18T21:14:00.002+01:00

I've always had a faint, guilty suspicion that I don't like Alice in Wonderland quite as much as I ought. Even as a little girl I felt that that, as a story, it didn't quite work, didn't flow right, that there must be some deeper layers of meaning just out of my reach - not that I would have phrased it like that in those days. If asked, I'd probably have shrugged and muttered something about it being "a bit weird" or even "boring." I liked the Disney film well enough, although it wasn't my favourite, but the book didn't seem like a children's book. Whatever the reason, somehow I didn't quite get it. Coming back to the book as an adult last year (in preparation for watching Tim Burton's Johnny Depp in Wonderland) and reading it with my book-clevers, I didn't like not understanding.

By this point, I'd twigged that Wonderland was a dream story with cards thrown in, and that Through The Looking Glass was either a metaphor or a novelisation of a chess game - again, in a dream. But even so, I often had the feeling that Lewis Carroll was cross-referencing other works, Victorian culture and in-jokes, but I didn't know what and couldn't quite work it out for myself. And I couldn't be havin' with that. Enter The Annotated Alice, a work which strives to unlock some of the mysteries under the surface of what cannot be denied is a very surreal story.

Now, I have to point out that The Annotated Alice is not for everyone. I know many who love the story uncomplicated by analysis or explanation, and that to look below the surface would spoil the magic. I have full sympathy for that! My brain, though, is cursed with an ardent curiosity and "wanting to know," probably as a result of my years of literary studies. I refused to study the Children's Literature module at university because insider information hinted that the class had the potential destroy books that have been part of me from childhood, going for shock over believable interpretations. And the notes for The Annotated Alice are not entirely free from fanciful speculation - did Carroll really intend the word "little" to be a pun on "Liddell"? (the real Alice's surname.) I'm inclined to believe he chose it because he meant "small" when he wanted to say something that meant "small." The annotator overuses the words "possibly," and "maybe" and "Carroll could be referring to..." Some of these links are tenuous to say the least, although there are lots of interesting snatches of information that make sense of the odd line here or there.

However, Martin Gardner, the annotator, also explains mathematical, political and scientific references that I wouldn't have otherwise understood, and draws attention to the patterns within the story. Reading Alice more closely, I came to realise just how the stories work with dream-logic. "She woke up to find it had all been a dream," is one of the big no-nos of storytelling these days, but Alice is the exception in being a very realistic portrayal of how dreams work - with things changing from one thing to another and this not seeming strange at all. Through the Looking Glass is much more sophisticated than Wonderland, with its logic conforming very closely to chess rules - kings moving one step at a time, knights being a little wobbly, queens rushing about all the time, and at the same time portraying a back-to-front world as it might well work the other side of a mirror. The cake must be passed around before it can be cut, the White Queen screams in pain until she jabs herself with a pin, and then is quite calm because "I've done all the screaming already [...] What would be the good of having it all over again?"

My other edition of the Alice books isn't illustrated, but The Annotated Alice contains the original drawings by John Tenniel, and Gardner points out the little details in these pictures which show how closely the author and illustrator worked together. Note the illustration of the shop Alice visits: it is based upon a real shop on St Aldate's, Oxford (which I visited earlier this week) but Tenniel has been careful to reverse the image, if you see the position of the window and door, this really is the Looking Glass version of the shop. (The counter, too, is the other way round in the real shop.)

I don't expect The Annotated Alice will by my usual reading copy, but I'm glad to have read it, and it really did make more sense of the books by drawing my attention to details I'd never noticed before. Chances are that most people have figured out a lot without help from annotations. Other people, as I've said before, are quite happy with the book as a dreamlike nonsense fantasy without needing the details spelled out for them. I wouldn't recommend this book for everyone, but if the mysteries of Alice are frustratingly elusive, it's worth looking into.

A small and humble tribute to Neil Gaiman

2011-08-14T15:50:00.001+01:00

'When I use a word,' Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.'

- Through The Looking Glass and What Alice Found There, Lewis Carroll

Neil, I wish I had your words.

I wish I could make words do for me what they do for you.
Words dance for you and come alive for you;
they become the right words by simply passing through your hands.
Your words defy the plain ink-and-paper they're typed on, to glitter crimson gold against the deepest night.
You get inside our heads, and slowly it dawns on us that the world didn't quite make sense before. Until.

And we close the book and lay it down,
but your words, once freed, won't be tidied away.
They creep behind us on softly silent soles and whisper so suggestive;

those ticking, tickling troublesome shadows around the corners of our minds.

The Considine Curse, Gareth P, Jones

2011-08-11T19:14:00.001+01:00

I don't often buy books on impulse, and I rarely buy books from the 9-12 age group, but in Waterstone's the other day I made an exception for The Considine Curse. The story of a "very normal" Australian teenager who goes to visit her strange cousins in England after the death of their grandmother, it looked like a cross between the Addams family and the Lemony Snicket books. Mariel's cousins are very close, many of them hostile to outsiders, and although they share the same grandmother, they don't consider Mariel to be one of them. Mariel's mother didn't even tell her she had any family, and as she gets to know them, Mariel can see why! Only now her mother wants to take her away from her home, school and friends. Mariel does not approve.

The Considine cousins are certainly a strange bunch, each with their own characteristics. Lily and Amelia are strange but seem friendly enough, but Oberon is threatening, and eight-year-old Elspeth is one of the creepiest children I've come across in fiction, oozing malevolence and speaking only in sinister rhyme, hinting at a terrible fate in store for Mariel. I guessed at the family's secret early on, but this did not spoil the story for me, although one piece of foreshadowing came across as too heavy-handed and unnecessary. The story is a great mix of a page-turning family mystery and a gothic undercurrent that gets darker and more dangerous as the story goes along.

I was quite shocked at the level of bloodthirstiness for a book aimed at pre-teens, but what I found more disturbing was the ending. I think it was supposed to be a happy ending, but it was rather bittersweet and a somewhat morally dubious. Although as an adult I don't mind stories with "untidy" conclusions, if I had read this book when I was ten or eleven, I would have been concerned about the decisions Mariel took. Her story may have ended pretty well, but I would have been - and was, a bit - troubled about the wider-reaching consequences for the family and community. Perhaps I think too much. Still, The Considine Curse is an enjoyable, intriguing and creepy read.

Villette, Charlotte Bronte

2011-08-09T20:24:00.000+01:00

I first encountered Charlotte Bronte as a pre-teen, when for some reason or other I watched the Lowood scenes in rehearsal at the local theatre. Being at the time fascinated with boarding school stories, the play encouraged me to try out the novel, but it was only on my fourth attempt when I was about fourteen that I actually read past Jane's childhood and onto the end. This novel has been described as an essential part of any girl's journey to womanhood, but little is known about Charlotte Bronte's other works. As part of the Bronte Sisters challenge, I decided to read Villette, a novel I knew little about other than it was supposed to be Charlotte's best work.

The novel follows the fortunes of Lucy Snowe, a young woman with no money and no family. What Lucy does have by the bucketload is resilience, strength of character, and courage, possibly to the point of recklessness. A Victorian young lady leaves England for the fictional city of Villette, unaccompanied, with no knowledge of French and no job, friends or relations when she gets there (as far as she knows.) Is she insane? Nevertheless, she quickly finds herself a position at a private school, first teaching the younger girls, then becoming English teacher for the whole school.

Lucy is a fascinating, but not always likable protagonist. It took me a good part of the book to be able to establish what her character is; she is quiet but forceful, often compared to a shadow. She is secretive even from the reader, more than once knowing more than she lets on until she decides to make a revelation. Lucy takes no nonsense and very sure of her own rightness. Her attitudes can come across as arrogant and judgemental, and she is particularly anti-Catholic which adds to her isolation as the only Protestant in the school.

Despite it being quite a challenging read, I got through Villette quickly. It is full of complex characters: the vain, coquettish Ginevra Fanshawe - who, despite all her faults, one can't quite bring oneself to dislike - sweet, precocious Polly and the devious, underhanded headmistress Madame Beck. There are two potential love interests in Lucy's life. Dr John, AKA Graham Bretton, son of Lucy's godmother, is the more conventional romantic hero: handsome, charming, friendly and generally decent. His relationship with his mother is heartwarming and amusing, full of good-natured banter. The other is M. Paul Emmanuel, a far more complex character: quick-tempered, passionate, opinionated and frequently rude, but he is full of compassion for the poor, the lowly, the underdog. He and Lucy clash frequently, but she is his equal and won't let him walk over her. He is a good character, yet I found his rudeness quite shocking, especially when I tried to imagine his modern-day equivalent. If he sees Lucy talking to another man, or dressing prettily - read, in a pale pink dress, rather than grey - he calls her all sorts of names, flirt, coquette, vain - Lucy Snowe, one of the most puritanical characters in literature! Imagine how well that would go down in real life, today. It would be considered abusive rather than eccentric foreign outspokenness, surely?

The book is quite hard-going, not least because there are large portions of untranslated French dialogue. I studied the language until I was 18, so I could follow most of it, but it might be better to read a Penguin or Oxford World Classics edition, as these tend to have footnotes or endnotes. It is a somewhat melancholy book, a tale of loneliness, disappointment and hope, and Victorian repression. Charlotte Bronte vividly describes the workings of a mind under attack from depression, of the physical pain from emotional turmoil, and the scenes in which Lucy ventures out at night after being drugged with opiates take on a surreal, fairylike tone, in which which her senses are intensified until everything seems brighter and more real than day-to-day life. Quite apart from subplot about a local ghost story that seems to fit better into an Ann Radcliffe romance, the narration is filled with the borderline-gothic atmosphere that is characteristic of Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights. Take this scene in which Lucy reflects upon a former unrequited love:

"Was this feeling dead? I do not know, but it was buried. Sometimes I thought the tomb unquiet, and dreamed strangely of disturbed earth, and of hair, still golden and living, obtruded through coffin-chinks."

Read for the Bronte Sisters challenge

Villette's ending is ambiguous and comes upon the reader suddenly and hard. Once more, Lucy Snowe conceals the full story from the reader, leaving it open to interpretation whether it she has her happy-ever-after or not. I've a pretty good idea which is the true ending, but either way, it seems quite a let-down to have followed this character from childhood, through 650 pages of hardship, happiness, despair and hard-earned reward, only to have this ending withheld, and wrapped up in a handful of sentences. Yet, it seems a remarkably modern conclusion, and not actually out of place in this clever, thoughtful piece of literature. If Jane Eyre has been helping girls to come of age, Villette is its sadder, wiser and more mature sister.

Top Ten Tuesday: Trends

2011-08-02T20:30:00.006+01:00

I love lists, and the ladies at The Broke and the Bookish offer the perfect opportunity to put on my list-making hat and ponder important matters related to all things bookish with their feature: Top Ten Tuesdays. Today they invite us to think about the trends in publishing that we’d like to see less or more of:

Less

Interchangeable Magical Boyfriend Creatures. The vampire who falls in love with a high school girl. Or the werewolf who falls in love with a high school girl. Or the fallen angel, or faery, or ghost, or zombie… you get the picture.
Misery Memoirs. I’m sure it’s cathartic to write about an awful childhood, and am outraged by some of the things people get away with, but I hate the emotionally manipulative way these books are marketed, deliberately tugging at the heartstrings with pictures of sad-eyed children, titles that all contain “Mummy” and “Daddy” and taglines about “helpless little boy/girl.”I feel this approach cheapens the very real experiences of those who wrote the books, and I also find it quite disturbing that people bulk-buy true stories about child abuse.
Decidedly Dubious Mills and Boon titles. Things like The Greek Tycoon’s Reluctant Mistress, or The Spanish Billionaire’s Bought Bride, or Wedded for Revenge, or Blackmailed Into His Bed. I don’t read the books myself, but these titles don’t suggest healthy male-female relationships!
Celebrity “auto”biographies and ghostwritten novels. If You Only Live Once as Katie Price suggests, why is this her fourth life story?
Love Triangles. Call me old-fashioned, but it seems to me that if it’s not obvious which of two suitors you want to spend your life with, are you really committed enough to either?

More:

I find it harder to think about what trends I’d like to see more of, because the best book are those that are original and stand out from the crowd. That being said, I’d like to see:

Amazing story-telling. J. K. Rowling always amazes me by he complete mastery of her story world, her complex plot strands that she never dropped even a minor subplot.
Dark, mysterious stories that aren’t specifically fantastical, but aren’t easily explained away either. (For example, Sarah Waters’ The Little Stranger.)
Non-romance-based stories in which the protagonist is either single all the way through, or happily settled all the way through the story.
Page-turning adventures and mysteries. When you have no idea what is going to happen next, but just have to read “one more chapter” to find out.
Strong, stand-alone stories. I do like some series, but many stories go on too long. I’d rather reach the end and wish for more, than get more and be disappointed or bored.

Specials, Scott Westerfeld

2011-07-28T20:34:00.000+01:00

Sorry for the sparsity of book reviews at the blog recently. After the thrill of getting really immersed into the Harry Potter world once more, reading one book after another, I've taken my reading a bit slower than usual, as well as reading many books at once - and subsequently taking longer to finish any one.

If you come to Specials after reading the prequel books, Uglies and Pretties, you'll probably have a good idea of the patterns the story takes. It starts off, some time after Tally Youngblood and her friend Shay have had yet more operations to make them "Special:" Employed as government agents and set to crushing the rebellions among the ordinary Pretty folk, Tally and Shay have had their faces redesigned to intimidate the "bubbleheaded" pretties, senses finely-tuned to track and outsmart miscreants, and radio antennae implanted into their skin so they can communicate from afar. Their minds are made coldly logical, and their personalities rewritten once more to incorporate a large dose of arrogance. As far as Tally's concerned, this is the way things are supposed to be, until a reminder from her past sets her questioning her world once more.

Like Pretties, it is frustrating to read Tally's thought processes from the outside - when you know how she is brainwashed and manipulated into working for a crazy totalitatian government. With her new personality traits, I found myself actually disliking Tally this time around - even though I knew this wasn't really her. But the story begs the question: when her mind has been so meddled with, what is her real personality? Is it how she used to be, or what she seems to be now? It was interesting to see the dystopian world from other side; the point of view of those who not only support but enforce it, so that everyone can live in peace and order, and that individuality and personal freedom are a small price to pay for such a world.

Westerfeld also raises the questions of what it is to be human. What started off as a little bit of meddling - cosmetic surgery to make everyone look a certain standard of "pretty" - requires more and more meddling to keep under control. "Pretties" need brain surgery to prevent them thinking too hard about the ethics of the process, and then there need to be Special Circumstance agents to keep control, who need to be rewired in another way. As a Special, Tally finds herself repulsed by her former boyfriend Zane, because although he is "pretty," he is just the same as everyone else. All are equal, but some are more equal than others.

Despite the ethical questions, I found myself skimming through chunks of Specials, losing interest as the story seemed to repeat the same patterns as the first two volumes, saturated with technobabble I couldn't really visualise. It picked up towards the end, when Tally reached the "New Smoke," the city of Diego, where she finds that her very existence is questioned in its legality, and is faced with the dilemma of how to proceed in the upcoming war between Dr Cable's neatly-ordered Pretty city, and the New Smoke. I was surprised by the ending, and impressed that Westerfeld did not go for the easy or obvious ending, but I am in no great hurry to read the companion novel Extras. All in all, I think the Uglies story had potential, but that it was dragged out too long.

Movie Monday: Robin Hood on Big and Small Screen

2011-07-25T12:00:00.001+01:00

There are some stories that don’t wear out, and the Robin Hood legend is possibly one of the most popular. Today I’m going to share my thoughts on just a few of the screen adaptations: good, bad and ugly.

Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. (1991)

My goodness, this film is cheesy! Was it supposed to be, I wonder? There seems to be a strange balance between an epic score, a rather melodramatic script being acted by some actors who seem to take their roles very seriously, alongside BRIAN BLESSED (albeit in a tiny role) and Alan Rickman hamming it up as the deliciously evil Sheriff of Nottingham.

“LOCKSLEY! I’M GOING TO CUT YOUR HEART OUT WITH A SPOON!!!”

And let’s not even get started on the accents. (I’ll leave that job up to Mel Brooks and Cary Elwes, see below.) I’m not quite sure of its reception when it first came out, and I’m sure the first time I saw it, when I was a kid of about 11, I found it pretty grim viewing. I don’t even remember watching very far into it, put off by the horrors of the prisons where the story begins. If I’d seen a bit more of Rickman, perhaps I’d have changed my mind somewhat; he is an absolute joy to watch. The film as a whole is all good fun, using some of the best-known traditions of the legend, and helping to cement newer plot additions into the Robin Hood canon, but somehow it seems as though this film isn’t quite sure whether it wants to be adventurous and gritty, or tongue-in-cheek. Maybe it was always a little confused, maybe it hasn’t aged very gracefully, or perhaps I’ve been ruined forever by watching the hilarious Mel Brooks parody Robin Hood: Men in Tights, which just highlighted all that was ridiculous about Prince of Thieves.

Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

“Unlike some other Robin Hoods, I can speak with an English accent!”

If Prince of Thieves is a little confused about what genre it is, Men in Tights has no such troubles. A slapstickish comedy full of bad puns, deliberate anachronisms and the complete destruction of the Fourth Wall, somehow Men in Tights is closer to what I think of as the “real” Robin Hood story than the film it is most directly taking the mickey out of. Cary Elwes – “Westley” from the cult classic film The Princess Bride – smirks his way through scenes very reminiscent of Prince of Thieves, with Robin’s escape from prison in Jerusalem (swimming home to the tune of “Row, row, row your boat, kissing the sand, and promptly spitting it out again!) and his tragic homecoming.

Robin Hood: Blinkin, listen to me. They've taken the castle!
Blinkin: I thought it felt a bit drafty. Cor, this never would have happened if your father was alive.
Robin Hood: He's dead?
Blinkin: Yes.
Robin Hood: And my mother?
Blinkin: She died of pneumonia while... oh, you were away...
Robin Hood: My brothers?
Blinkin: There were all killed by the plague.
Robin Hood: My dog, Pongo?
Blinkin: Run over by a carriage.
Robin Hood: My goldfish, Goldie?
Blinkin: Eaten by the cat.
Robin Hood: My cat?
Blinkin: Choked on the goldfish.
Blinkin: Oh, it's good to be home, ain't it, Master Robin?

Then, of course there is the ghastly concoction brewed up by the hideous Latrine, while she tells Prince John all she knows about Robin of Locksley. (“You want certain, hire yourself a witch! I’m just your cook.”) This whole film ensures that I can no longer take Prince of Thieves seriously at all, though there are moments taken from other versions of the tale, such as the trap to catch Robin by luring him to an archery tournament, Prince John’s presence, and of course the green tights.

Robin Hood: BBC TV series (2006-2009)

After the first few episodes of what has become known as “Robin Hoodie” due to its costume choice, I wrote this review:

All right, there is no way that this series can be taken seriously, but it is enjoyable enough to allow me to suspend my disbelief. The cheese factor is bearable, though I could not believe the cheek of some of the lines: "I am your father;" "I shot the sheriff..." "No, you shot the deputy" to name just a couple. Minghella et al have plagiarised shamelessly, but in a tongue-in-cheek way. However, it is left to the supporting characters to give the programme the charisma it needs: what is with Robin Hood being reincarnated as an emo pacifist? Sam Troughton as Much is adorable and grows as a character through the series. Keith Allen hams it up as the Sheriff of Nottingham, and let's not forget Richard Armitage as the brooding villain with a bit of a heart. Marion is gorgeous and manages to avoid the stereotypes that are a danger for females in adventure stories: she is neither a doormat who spends her time working on her embroidery, nor a man's character in a dress, but a strong, feminine woman trapped in a seemingly impossible situation.
I look forward to series two, but I hope for some more bow action and less sulking from Robin next time around.

Perhaps it was Isle of Wight loyalty – the man behind this reinvention of the Robin Hood legend was the brother of the late Anthony Minghella. Looking back now, I feel I was too generous – especially after the plot developments of seasons two and three. There is something wrong when you’re secretly hoping that Guy of Gisbourne will polish off Robin Hood in any confrontation! And this is the version where the writers decided it was a good idea to kill off Maid Marian and introduce their own potential love interest character in her place. It wasn’t a good idea, and by all accounts Maid Marian’s replacement was what fanfiction writers dismiss as a “Mary Sue.” I say “by all accounts” because after series one I only dipped in and out of this series. Even in the first season, most of my enjoyment of this programme came from shouting abuse at the TV screen at either the corny scripts or the actions of our designated heroes, such as Robin failing to follow through on his threats, and generally wimping about.

Robin Hood – 2010 film

Despite, or perhaps because of, my love for the Robin Hood legend, I never went to see the latest film in the cinemas, from Ridley Scott and starring Russell Crowe. By all accounts it was a “darker, grittier” retelling of the legend, and the fact that these two were the pairing for Gladiator, which I disliked, made me suspicious. But was it darker? Well, yes, the light was poor in the opening scene, and there’s a fair bit of blood. But I was hasty to judge.

Over the past century, the Robin Hood tale has evolved, each filmmaker adding new elements to the legend, which the next assumes has always been there, and so the story has mutated. Of course, this has always been the case – the tale has been changing since the early ballads, the old folk plays, literature – Ivanhoe – then later film and television. Ridley Scott has taken the story back a bit, so that the basic plot points remain recognisable, but the details are different.

Lady Marion is older and more worldly than usual, no longer “Maid,” but widow of Sir Robert Locksley – who is not Robin Hood. The man we know by that name is a humble archer who, for tax reasons, has taken on the identity of Locksley. This version takes place at the very end of King Richard Coeur de Lion’s life – he dies early on – and the wicked Prince John of legend is now the wicked King John by rights. This story is set against the backdrop of treachery and the threat of invasion from France, and turns into a war film, concluding with Robin Hood being declared outlaw – which is where most stories pick up.

But despite the differences, I thought that this film had a greater Robin Hood feel to it than some of the aforementioned, with a good historical setting – though I am quite sure many liberties have been taken with accuracy. And if Russell Crowe’s accent takes a bit of a wander around the British Isles and beyond, at least he tries, bless him. *ahemKevinCostnerahem*

Robin Hood (Disney) – 1973

I suspect that a lot of what I’ve referred to throughout this post as the “familiar” Robin Hood story comes from the Disney classic, which stars a strange mixture of anthropomorphic animals with a strange mixture of accents. Historically, geographically or realistically accurate, this is not – talking animals aside. But no matter. It’s a kids’ version, an introduction to the old tales whose only purpose is to tell a good story. And, after all, we are told right from the start that this is the animals’ version of the legends of old, not the British version, or even the human version. So I have no problem accepting a wolf who plays the kind of Sheriff you’d find in an old Western, rather than in medieval Naadinghayem – sorry, Nottingham, or a Friar Tuck who I didn’t even realise was supposed to be a badger, even though it says so in the credits. It doesn’t matter. It’s all good fun, though things take a sombre turn and I confess the song, “Not in Nottingham,” which is sung when our heroes are at their lowest point, still makes me feel a little choked up.

Other notable adaptations include:

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938, Errol Flynn)
Robin of Sherwood (ITV, 1984-86)
Maid Marion and her Merry Men (BBC, 1989-1994, Tony Robinson)

50 Greatest Harry Potter moments.

2011-07-22T19:25:00.008+01:00

Next week, ITV1 will be showing a compilation of the top 50 moments from the Harry Potter films. This got me wondering about what my top 50 moments were, in both film and book. Contains plot details of the whole series.

50. The Sorting Hat. (Philosopher's Stone)

49. The Time-turner. "If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight." (Prisoner of Azkaban)

48. "This is what Dumbledore sends his defender. A songbird and an old hat!" A hat containing the sword of Gryffindor, which will only present itself to the most loyal Gryffindors. And the phoenix, whose tears heal any wound. Just what Harry needed. (Chamber of Secrets)

47. Hermione the rebel. "I don't know what's got into you lately!" said Ron, astounded. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney - " Hermione looked rather flattered. (Prisoner of Azkaban,)
46. Professor McGonagall: "I always wanted to use that spell!" (Deathly Hallows, Part 2 - film.)
45. Ron: "Why couldn't it have been 'follow the butterflies?'" (Chamber of Secrets, film)
44. The Weasley Twins' attempt at fooling the age line around the Goblet of Fire - and the consequences. (Goblet of Fire)

43. Neville Longbottom. Dumbledore: "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends." (Philosopher's Stone)
42. The flying Ford Anglia. (Chamber of Secrets)

41. Quirrell's true allegiance. After spending the first book thinking that Professor Snape hates Harry - true - and is trying to kill him - false - we discover that ineffectual, timid Professor Quirrell is not only after Harry, not only trying to bring Lord Voldemort back - but Voldemort is living on the back of his head! And Snape is trying to protect Harry. The first, but by no means the last of such twists in this series. (Philosopher's Stone)
40. The Triwizard Tournament. All of it. (Goblet of Fire.)
39. Tonks loves Lupin! Dumbledore's dead, Bill Weasley badly wounded, but his wife-to-be Fleur is sticking by him. I turned the page - and all of a sudden, two of my favourite characters are in love with each other! Where did that come from? (It is foreshadowed in the book, but I did not suspect a thing. Lovely couple.) (Half-Blood Prince)
38. Luna Lovegood's Quidditch commentary. (Half-Blood Prince.)
37. Tom Riddle's true identity. Hands up who saw that coming first time around? (Chamber of Secrets)
36. Umbridge vs McGonagall. "You are raving," said Professor McGonagall, superbly disdainful. Don't try to outsmart McGonagall, Dolores. You will lose. (Order of the Phoenix.)
35. The duelling club. It is testament to how irritating Gilderoy Lockhart is, that I found myself cheering on Snape before I ever liked him as a character. (Chamber of Secrets)

34. First sight of Hogwarts. This really is a magical world. If only my school had been like this. (Philosopher's Stone.)
33. Owl post. You can run and hide, Dursleys, but there's no escaping Harry's magical identity. He will be a wizard, like it or not. (Philosopher's Stone.)
32. The Shrieking Shack. Sirius is an animagus! And Lupin is his friend! And Lupin is a werewolf! And Sirius is innocent! And Ron's pet rat is the real villain! Shock after shock, revelation after revelation, and everything you think you know is turned upside-down. (Prisoner of Azkaban)
31. "I don't think you're a waste of space." ("Coming from Dudley that's like "I love you.") (Deathly Hallows.)
30. Harry, Ron and Hermione battle a troll. In the girls' bathroom. Aged eleven. And survive. There are some things you can;t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them. (Philosopher's Stone)

29. Harry's first broomstick ride. Harry stands up to the class bully, disobeying orders and ends up, not expelled as threatened, but the youngest quidditch player for a century. (Philosopher's Stone.)
28. Snape: "Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade." (Prisoner of Azkaban)
27. 'I want to fix that in my memory forever,' said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. 'Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret ...' (Goblet of Fire)

26. That wonderful scene in the Goblet of Fire film, where the kids are talking about Yule Ball partners when they are supposed to be doing homework. Fred's mimed invitation to Angelina is hilarious, but the best part is Snape who, when hitting them with his book proves ineffective, forces their heads forward. It's the twitch of his sleeves that does it for me! (Goblet of Fire, film)
25. The Mirror of Erised, and how it helps Harry outwit Voldemort for the first time. Dumbledore:"It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. Only one who wanted to find the Stone - find it, but not use it - would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes..." (Philosopher's Stone)
24. The Marauder's Map. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Bonus points for insulting Severus Snape. (Prisoner of Azkaban.)

23. Harry under the influence of Felix Felicis, the lucky potion - especially the film. Daniel Radcliffe clearly enjoyed hamming it up in that scene. (Half-Blood Prince)
22. Dobby to the rescue. Though I didn't like Dobby particularly, his rescue of Harry et al from Malfoy Manor is brilliant, and his death scene so sad. (Deathly Hallows)
21. The Seven Potters. Fred and George: "Wow! We're identical!" (Deathly Hallows)
20. Ron and Hermione finally get together. (Deathly Hallows)
19. Snape: "Do you remember me telling you we are practising non-verbal spells, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry stiffly.

"Yes sir."

"There's no need to call me 'sir', Professor." (Half-Blood Prince)

18. Molly Weasley vs Bellatrix Lestrange, and I quote: "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" (Deathly Hallows.)

17. Dumbledore's Army. Despite the best efforts of Dolores Umbridge, a group of students continue practising Defence against the Dark Arts in secret, right under her nose. (Order of the Phoenix)
16. In the Ministry for Magic, we see just why Albus Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort ever feared. (Order of the Phoenix)
15. Ron's return and the destruction of the Slytherin Locket. (Deathly Hallows)

14. Platform 9 3/4. Harry's first introduction to the Weasley family, who promptly adopt him as one of their own. (Philosopher's Stone)
13. The Weasley Twins' exit from Hogwarts. They make sure that Umbridge is left with as much chaos as possible, and the staff and students do all they can to help. Best line comes from McGonagall to Peeves the Poltergeist. "It unscrews the other way." (Order of the Phoenix.)
12. "Look... at... me." Severus Snape was never going to survive the series, but his death scene was a shock, so sudden. It seemed a bit anticlimactic on the first reading, but then, with a bit more information, it all makes sense and is so very sad. An addition to the film makes it more obvious. "You have your mother's eyes." *sniffle, sob* (Deathly Hallows.)
11. Neville Longbottom faces Voldemort, survives and kills the Dark Lord's last horcrux, his snake Nagini. (Deathly Hallows)

10. Escape from Gringotts. On a dragon. (Deathly Hallows.)
9. Expecto Patronum! And then it hit him - he understood - he hadn't seen his father - he had seen himself. (Prisoner of Azkaban.)
8."I am not worried, Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. "I am with you." Throughout this book, Dumbledore has trusted Harry with more and more, treating him as an equal, until their roles are reversed. This is the moment in which Harry comes of age. (Half-Blood Prince)
7. "King's Cross." Harry's near-death experience, in which he meets Dumbledore once more, and finally - finally - understands everything. Dumbledore: "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" (Deathly Hallows)

6. Priori Incantatem: Lord Voldemort has returned, and he will kill Harry Potter. Harry is just fourteen years old, he knows nothing of duelling. He's toast. But he's not giving in without a fight, and with an expelliarmus - the disarming spell and the only useful spell he knows - the two wands connect. (Goblet of Fire)
5. Dumbledore: "Well - it's just that you seem to be labouring under the delusion that I am going to - what is the phrase? - come quietly. I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius." And sure enough, he does not. (Order of the Phoenix)
4. "The Prince's Tale." After seven books, eight films of keeping us guessing, finally J. K. Rowling's most complex creation reveals his true character, and it is heartbreaking. Excellently acted by Alan Rickman in the film. (Deathly Hallows)
3. The final confrontation between Harry and Voldemort: in which Harry survives - again - the killing curse, and defeats the most evil wizard of all time with nothing more than his favourite disarming spell. The Elder Wand recognises Harry as its true owner, and he becomes the master of death - not by becoming immortal, but by facing his own mortality and being unafraid. (Deathly Hallows)
2. The Boy Who Lived - because his mother loved him enough to die for him. (Philosopher's Stone - recurring theme)
1. Harry's sacrifice. Harry not only looks death in the face, but walks willingly towards his fate, his companions all those he has loved and lost, giving him the courage to do what must otherwise be impossible. Beautiful, beautiful scene, wonderfully written and perfectly adapted. It will give you the chills. (Deathly Hallows.)

Movie Monday: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2

2011-07-18T12:00:00.364+01:00

Well, there was only going to be one choice of film for today's Movie Monday review, wasn't there?

It's been eleven years since I first started reading the Harry Potter series. When Goblet of Fire was first published, I was the same age as Harry at that point in the series, 14 years old. Seems incredible now. With the hype around the books being unprecedented, and then the film adaptations, Harry Potter has played a huge part in the lives of so many people who came of age alongside the boy wizard. After rereading the books in preparation for the final part of the final film, I decided against my usual habits, and allowed myself to be swept up in the general excitement, going to see the midnight premiere among other like-minded nutters, including one dressed as Bellatrix Lestrange, many in wizard's robes and school uniform, and one with a T-shirt bearing the sign of the Deathly Hallows. There was a great buzz of excitement and anticipation, and I hadn't felt as excited about a film since Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King was released in 2003.

WARNING: THIS REVIEW IS FULL OF SPOILERS. IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT YOU WATCH THE FILM BEFORE READING ON.

I think by now that most Harry Potter fans will have read all of the books, but to a casual viewer I would recommend that they remind themselves of the story so far, because Deathly Hallows part 2 does not give much chance to play catch-up, repeating just the final moments of the last half before plunging us back into the story where we left off. Not many franchises could get away with that trick, but Harry Potter makes its own rules. Part 2 doesn't feel like a whole film, but is the second half of a very long one. The break-in at Gringotts Bank would ordinarily be a big, climactic scene but launching into the scene in minutes without any preamble or build-up it felt a bit rushed. Helena Bonham Carter (with Emma Watson's voice) does a great Hermione-disguised-as-Bellatrix, and her attempts at walking in Bellatrix's boots reminded me of myself wobbling on high heels.

We haven't seen Gringotts since the first film, and with its rows of smart, suited goblin clerks, I found myself reminded of Mary Poppins. Warwick Davies, who has always been present in the background as Professor Flitwick, got a moment in the spotlight - albeit under heavy prosthetics - as the goblin Griphook. Griphook was civil, polite and quietly-spoken, which coupled with the black eyes and pointy teeth was more unsettling than any cackling Labyrinth goblins one might be more likely to expect. The ride down to the vaults was a great piece of filming that was obviously designed to make the most of the 3D effects, a bumpy rollercoaster ride that hearkened back to the descriptions of Harry's first trip with Hagrid in Philosopher's Stone. The special effects continued with the replicating gold, and of course the breakout on the dragon which smashed up Gringotts and half of Diagon Alley with it. I did wonder, for a moment, how Harry located the next horcrux so easily under the circumstances, especially as he had never seen it before in the film version.

And then, all of a sudden, Harry, Ron and Hermione were headed back to Hogwarts. Already? I thought. After all the time spent on finding and destroying the locket horcrux, it seemed very sudden, and even in the book it crashes on me quicker than I expect. And we are at the three-quarter mark, with all the best bits still to come.

Back at Hogwarts, it was wonderful to see nearly everyone back from the previous films, even just in the background: Dean and Seamus, Cho, Lav-Lav (I beg her pardon, Lavender Brown) and possible Percy Weasley. But there's no time to get soppy, as the school prepares for battle, two horcruxes still left unfound. The cost of protecting one teenage boy was astounding. Of course, the good guys are fighting for more than just Harry Potter, but the fact that all Voldemort sees as standing between him and absolute power is this one young man, and the lengths he's willing to go to in order to eliminate that one threat - wow! As the battle commences, and Hogwarts turns to chaos, Professor McGonagall takes control and is awesome, raising a few laughs ("Boom!") Someone's gotta do it. It looks like certain death for all, as our heroes muster all the courage they can to face Voldemort and his masses of Death Eaters. Remus Lupin and his wife Tonks (What do we call her now? Tonks-Lupin? Nymphadora?) reach for each other's hands, and the formerly uncrushable comic relief, Fred and George Weasley, can only manage wobbly, watery smiles. Ouch.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione have destroyed the next horcrux - and finally kissed! (And everybody says "Awww," "Hooray!" or "At last!") Harry has located another with astonishing ease, with the help of Luna Lovegood and the beautiful ghost of Helena Ravenclaw, before Malfoy and his cronies corner him in the Room of Requirement. I had a bit of a giggle as I saw some of the props stuffed in the Room of Requirement - including a cage of blue pixies from Chamber of Secrets. But the giggles didn't last long. Goyle's (Crabbe in the book) Fiendfyre spell goes wrong, and that's another horcrux down. One more to go - then Voldemort himself! It could be such a victory, but the enormity of everything they've been through hits our central trio and they break down for a moment in a powerful, very believable scene.

There was one part of the story that fans would never have forgiven the filmmakers if they had not done it justice: the chapter called "The Prince's Tale." Thankfully, there is nothing to forgive. The scene is perfect. Alan Rickman, always outstanding as Snape, excels himself in this film and though he is only in a few scenes, is the real star of this movie. His performance as Headmaster of Hogwarts is deliciously sinister, terrifying even when one knows his true allegiances. Even I felt myself wondering briefly whether or not he could be trusted, and I knew the whole story. His death was inevitable; such a great character was never going to survive the series, I think I've always known that. The snake attack was shocking and violent, viewed from behind a blood-smeared window, and then so very, very sad! At least in the film, I got the feeling that Snape was at peace in the end, not struggling against death but facing it with courage - which is one of the main themes of the story. Then, at last, we learn Snape's story, in a heartbreaking montage of scenes from his life, the final thoughts of a dying man twisting and merging together. Key moments from his childhood spliced together with Dumbledore's revelation of his ultimate plan, clips from all the previous films and an additional, devastating scene of Snape being first on the scene of James and Lily's murder. I always found Rickman's Snape to be a much more restrained character than Book-Snape, always cold and calm and contemptuous, unreadable. At the time of Half-Blood Prince, I was disappointed by the lack of the "DON'T - CALL - ME - COWARD!" line, but that complete control throughout the series makes it all the more powerful when now, at last, he bares his soul. Rickman's portrayal of Snape's grief and undying love is perfect, beautiful, heartbreaking. Oh, Severus!

I have to confess that when the first couple of Harry Potter films came out, I wasn't overly impressed by Daniel Radcliffe's acting, finding him awkward and wooden at times. Well, he was eleven. Not any more. He has improved steadily throughout this series, and his performance as Harry courageously walks through the forest towards his fate is flawless. He conveys just the right mix of shock, courage and determination, fear and acceptance, and the scene is perfect.

I've been using that word a lot, haven't I? I won't say the entire film was perfect, though it was a very satisfying conclusion to the series that has been enchanting children and adults alike for over ten years, and very true to the source material. If I have a complaint, it's that I felt that the filmmakers sometimes skimped on the story to devote more time to epic battle scenes. I would have preferred more of Dumbledore's backstory, and there were a couple of times where plot holes were patched over, where minor plot points were omitted from previous adaptations which would later be needed - Sirius's mirror, and Harry mentioning Lupin's son that non-readers wouldn't have known he had. As I've always said, these films are great companions to the books, but don't always flow seamlessly on their own.

Dumbledore told Harry at "King's Cross" that words are the most powerful kind of magic, which seemed to be a comment on the story itself. J. K. Rowling has certainly proved the power of words with her storytelling.

Back in Hogwarts in the battle, two characters got their moments of glory, and they were well worth the wait. I'm referring, of course, to Molly Weasley and Neville Longbottom. Dear old Neville, who started off as a squishy, inept junior wizard in Philosopher's Stone, has grown over the last few films and turned into a brave, confident hero. I've always had a soft spot for Neville, so it's wonderful to see how his character turns out. I salute you, Longbottom! He also got a lovely warming moment, not from the books but that I'm sure many people wished would happen, the pairing up of our favourite outcasts. I know I approved.

I loved the epilogue, giggling at the appearance of Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, and Draco Malfoy in their mid-thirties. Albus Severus is a very good-looking kiddy who I'm sure will grow up to break many hearts, and the family relationship was lovely. Some of the other children on the train bore a remarkable similarity to Harry and co.'s classmates - I wonder whether that was deliberate. I broke into a grin watching the Hogwarts Express chugging a new generation off to Hogwarts, a safe Hogwarts which brings us full circle, back to the magical innocence from the beginning of Philosopher's Stone.

I left the cinema with a warm feeling of contentment and happiness. Although Deathly Hallows Part 2 won't overwrite the movie in my head, I'm very happy for the two to coexist. Congratulations to all of the cast and crew for bringing these beloved books to life. You should be very proud of yourselves.

Mini-Reviews: Forever & Amy and Roger's Epic Detour

2011-07-17T16:31:00.001+01:00

Forever - Maggie Stiefvater:

In Shiver, Grace fell in love with a boy with golden eyes, who was a wolf in winter. The book ended with his cure. In Linger, the werewolf virus that had lain dormant in Grace for so many years kicked into life, and we were left staring after her as she shifted and ran off into the night.

Now Grace and her friend Olivia are, for all intents and purposes, missing. Sam, Cole and Isabel know the truth, but who else would believe it? And when Olivia turns up dead, Isabel's father Tom Culpeper makes plans for the extermination of the Mercy Falls wolves. Even when Grace is in her human form, she can't go home, so this book is much more pack-based than its predecessors. I had a sense of the loneliness of living a life that no one else can be told about. Grace can't even let her friends and family know she's alive, and it seems like survival must be impossible. If Tom Culpeper and his cronies killed her while she was in wolf form, her disappearance would never be explained. Sam, Grace and Cole are faced with the near impossible task of moving the wolves out of the woods to a safe place.

This volume is more of a werewolf race-against-time than the love story of the previous two volumes, and I kept turning the pages with a desperation for everything to turn out all right, but a dread of the more likely outcome. Forever is a beautiful end to a simple but exceptional story.

Amy and Roger's Epic Detour - Morgan Matson

I bought this book after having seen a lot of reviews on other people's blogs, and, I confess, because it has a pretty cover. After her father's death, Amy Curry is charged with bringing the family car from California to their new home in Connecticut, but she won't drive any more. Enter Roger, an old family friend, and the pair decide to make a proper road trip of the journey, taking the scenic route.

I found the plot of Amy and Roger to be fairly standard for a real-issues teenage novel. I'd read too many books with the main character dealing with bereavement and family upheaval (Fixing Delilah, The Sky Is Everywhere, Tiger Eyes, Hold Still, The Truth About Forever to name but a few) for this to really stand out as a story. It was the travel that made this book different. I loved reading about the different places Amy and Roger visited: Yosemite National Park, America's Loneliest Highway, Graceland, Utah and there was a scrapbook effect with photos, ticket stubs, receipts and iPod playlists, which added to the feeling of being a passenger in the car. Along the way, Amy and Roger meet up with some lovely supporting characters, who open their homes and hearts to strangers. When Amy visited Graceland, a trip she'd always been meaning to take with her Elvis-mad father, I found myself close to tears and realised this story had drawn me deeper in than I'd previously thought.

Darkly Dreaming Dexter, Jeff Lindsay

2011-07-13T19:00:00.002+01:00

Although I'd been vaguely aware of the Dexter books and the TV series based upon them, I'd not given them much thought until I saw a memorable Facebook status update from my sister:

Then, when I realised I hadn't brought a book to read in my lunchbreak at work, and had no interest in getting a magazine, I found an abandoned copy of the first book in the lunchroom, and, remembering Jenny's raving about the TV series, thought I'd give it a try.

I was vaguely aware, from what Jenny had told me and the book and DVD blurbs that Dexter Morgan was a forensic blood spatter analysis for the Miami police, a likeable man who happened to be a serial killer in his spare time - but who only kills the bad guys. The really bad guys. I came to the books unaware of any more of Dexter's character than this, and maybe had some idea that he was some sort of vigilante character whose primary objective was to bring villains to justice who had somehow slipped through the net. When I actually opened the book, it became clear that this view was mistaken. Dexter Morgan is primarily driven by the murderous urges and voices he calls "The Dark Passenger," and it is due to his moral code learned from his adopted father Harry that he has put the Dark Passenger to good use. Hey, if you must go around murdering people, you might as well go after the people who really deserve it, no?

It was difficult at first to get into Dexter's head, because he has no emotions - or so he claims - an outsider who observes humans as a species quite apart from himself, whose entire life is a performance to hide his secret, from his relationship with timid, damaged Rita and her children, to the decor of his house. And I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to get into his head! Gradually, though, I became intrigued by this character, and Darkly Dreaming Dexter is a fascinating insight into the mind of a sociopath with some sort of moral code.

Then, more, I realised I was starting to like this self-confessed monster. His narration reflects his view as an outsider to his own life, facing drastic turns of events with an "ooh, would you look at that?" sort of curiosity and a dry, understated dark humour. What became just a handy distraction in the lunchroom hooked me and made me wonder how Dexter could possibly continue to hide his sinister pastime from his work colleagues including his sister Deborah, who are already starting to worry about how a blood spatter analyst could be such an expert in the serial-killer's psyche. Although I tend to prefer one-off novels to series, I'm alreadythinking, "Bother, only four more to go!" I've been discussing the story with Jenny who is a fan of the TV series, and so far we understand each other, but it seems that from series 2 onwards the books and TV show go their separate ways. Reviews claim that the TV DEXTER is one of the few instances of the adaptation being better than the original material - I shall have to investigate this for myself, I think. Purely for research and comparison, of course. And that way, I've got twice as many Dexter stories to keep my dark side entertained.

Movie Monday: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 1

2011-07-11T22:37:00.000+01:00

Contains spoilers

With the final installment of the Harry Potter film series released this Friday, it is only right that this week's Movie Monday brings us up-to-date with the story so far. I'm not going to recap the story here, as I've written fairly lengthy book reviews already. The film itself makes no allowances for newcomers - it's probably a safe assumption that most viewers know what's going to happen anyway, and that those who don't, have at least watched the films to date. After a brief speech from the Minister for Magic, we are plunged without any further ado into the seventeen-year-old heroes' lives as they prepare to leave their homes and venture out into a terrifying world unprotected. This is the only film to reduce me to a blubbering wreck in the first two minutes, before the title card.

As I said, this film is not very newbie-friendly, reuniting Harry and the audience with a flurry of old faces, some not seen for three or more films (Fleur, Dobby) and other characters are introduced briefly, with little to-do, and you are left to work out for yourself quite where they all fit into the equation (Bill Weasley, Mundungus Fletcher and others.) Still, I was very pleased to be introduced to the eldest Weasley boy, a tertiary character for whom I have quite a fondness, but who could conceivably have been rewritten. When I first heard that Deathly Hallows was to be split into two films, I wondered whether it was strictly necessary, but now I am very grateful for the fact. This is probably the most faithful adaptation since Chamber of Secrets, but is a far superior film, in part because the actors have come a long way, in part because there was enough imagination in the translation process from one medium to another. When reading the book, there were a couple of subplots I hadn't remembered being included in the film, but there was enough to suggest that these have not been forgotten, just probably shuffled into part 2. Just a few more days and I will know.

The previous film, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince opened with a shot of the Millennium Bridge being destroyed, showing how even the muggle world was affected by the wizards' wars. Deathly Hallows Part 1 shows the continued effect, which I found the more chilling because it was more casual: a headline announcing the murder of a muggle family, the battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters - and Voldemort - taking place over a busy motorway and bringing down power lines, the burnt-out caravans in the scenery without any mention of what happened.

After about half a film full of fantasy action: a discovery, the infiltration of the Ministry of Magic - but alas, no one answered my plea to assassinate Umbridge after her first giggle - and a One Ring-like Horcrux spreading discord between the central trio, more terror comes after a moving scene at Harry's parents' grave, when Harry and Hermione - Ron having temporarily scarpered in a huff - meet what they think is magical historian Bathilda Bagshot. Background music and the preknowledge of what is to come, but not how, build up a creepy suspense, and the gruesome horror is more implied than shown, with the buzzing in the background and a few blood spatters. There is a strange moment when, after the scenes in a gloomy old house, the wall is smashed open to reveal a bright, airy nursery for a moment or two, before returning to darkness. This uncanny, unexpected shot just heighten the chaos and panic of the scene.

In Chamber of Secrets, when Harry discovers that he can speak the language of the snakes - without realising it! - the filmmakers were left with a dilemma: do they show the scenes as Harry sees them - implying he speaks English and then revealing that wasn't the case at all - or as they really are - alerting the audience to his uncommon skills before Harry himself finds out. They went with the latter option, and I remember thinking "that ruined it!" Somehow, this time - at least on this viewing - I thought they did a better job. It seemed that "Bathilda" was saying something I couldn't quite make out, but somehow it seemed like it wasn't clear why, whether my ears or brain weren't working properly for a moment. But maybe that was just me and just this time.

The Harry Potter actors and filmmakers have come a long way since the twinkly, magical children's film that was Philosopher's Stone, and particular credit goes to the central trio, who must have spent half their lives so far playing these roles. Emma Watson as Hermione deserves a particular mention in this film; it was thanks to her performance that I was reaching for the tissues in the first two minutes.

Oh, and of course Dobby, not seen since Chamber of Secrets, and generally disliked then, Dobby put a smile on my face when he reappeared in all his joy to see Harry Potter, his pride at being A Free Elf and general cheerful, matter-of-fact demeanor in a film so full of darkness and fear. Of course, this makes his final scenes all the more heartrending. I never would have thought nine years ago that I would shed a tear for that irritating house-elf!

I've now bought my ticket for the midnight showing - ten past midnight, if that makes any difference! - of part 2 on Thursday night/ Friday morning, and am itching to see the final part. Reading all of the books in a row recently has left me more caught up in the Pottermania than I otherwise would be, and I am particularly looking forward to seeing Neville and Mrs Weasley's greatest moments, Alan Rickman as Snape - a character sadly missing from most of the previous film - and his backstory, and of course the final showdown(s) between Harry and Voldemort. But I am in no doubt about the fact that tissues will be needed.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, J. K. Rowling

2011-07-10T16:52:00.001+01:00

Pottermania has been abounding in the last couple of weeks with the run-up to the final film in the series, which premiered in London on Thursday. I watched some of the live coverage, and when Alan Rickman turned up, I couldn't help singing, "Snape, Snape, Severus Snape!" from the Potter Puppet Pals online video, "A Mysterious Ticking Noise," and the tune which has popped into my head as a sort of leitmotif for Snape whenever he turned up in the books. So I nearly fell off my chair when, a couple of seconds later, I could make out what the crowd were chanting.

So, I may or may not have been persuaded to go along to the midnight showing of the final film on Thursday night/Friday morning. I've never been one for midnight anything. I'm too fond of my sleep. Instead of visibly succumbing to the Pottermania with the book releases and queuing at the bookshops, I got up early to buy my copy. But this is my last chance. It remains to be seen whether I might dress up... Expect a Movie Monday review next week.

In a way, I envy the next generation of kids. With Pottermania so strong over the last few years, I doubt there are many people who haven't read the books, seen the films or at least had important parts of the story told to them. When the fuss has begun to die down, and a new readership comes along, I envy them the opportunity to read the books unspoiled, not knowing what to expect, like (most of) my experience. But just in case there are readers who don't yet know the whole story, be warned:

This review may contain spoilers for book 7; definitely contains spoilers for books 1-6.

After six books whose major events fit into a neat little routine - Something slightly odd happening in the school holidays, a return to school, slow revelation that something odder is taking place in or out of the school, several mysteries to solve throughout the year building to a climax just before the summer holidays - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows breaks the pattern by not sending Harry, Ron and Hermione back to Hogwarts at all. Instead, the trio set out on their own to search for and destroy He Who Must Not Be Named's horcruxes - a collection of objects to which the Dark Lord has attached portions of his soul in his search for immortality. Considering that Harry has only the vaguest idea of what these objects might be, and no clue where in the country - or the world! - You-Know-Who has hidden them or how to destroy them, this is no easy feat.

Sometimes, in fantasy quests, the world seems very small indeed, and the near-impossible achievable with unrealistic efforts. This is averted in most of Deathly Hallows, which portrays the tensions that rise when three people are living in close quarters, away from the rest of civilisation, embarking on a hopeless quest - especially when they have as a companion a little piece of the most evil wizard of all time, shut into a locket. in addition, because the trio are no longer at school, the plot no longer has to fit into a single academic year. It does, but it's equally possible that it could take years.

After a brief respite in Half-Blood Prince, the Ministry of Magic stands once more against Harry, this time because of its being infiltrated by You-Know-Who's Death Eaters who are terrifying the rest of the ministry into submission through threat and force. Thankfully, as Harry and co spend much of the book out of contact with other wizards, the sense of oppression is less intrusive, and though we do see the horrible Umbridge again, she plays a much smaller part.

Although Deathly Hallows is exactly the same length as its predecessor, it feels like many books in one, with more action, more varied scene changes as the heroes apparate across the country, visiting friends, London, forests in the middle of nowhere, wizarding settlements, more middle-of-nowhere, wizarding businesses, being captured and escaping and eventually winding up back at Hogwarts school after all. Add to this Harry's visions back in and out of Voldemort's mind, and I wonder how this much story can be packed into just over 600 pages. No wonder Warner Brothers chose to make this story into two films instead of just one.

As if this weren't enough, we find out a lot more about Albus Dumbledore's youth, where it is revealed that the wise old wizard was not so infallible as we'd previously been led to believe. Indeed, the man had spent his whole life trying to atone for a tragic mistake from his youth. And at last, the true character of one of children's literature's most complex anti-heroes is revealed: the enigmatic Severus Snape.

I stand in awe of J. K. Rowling's storytelling, for Harry Potter's story is made from so many strands of plot and subplot, but Rowling does not lose a single thread, weaving them together perfectly in this finally installment. Everything is significant, nothing is left dangling, Rowling is truly the master of her craft. The saga culminates in an epic battle at Hogwarts which is a bit of a family reunion, reintroducing forgotten faces and old favourites. But it is rather a bloodbath! We are forced to bid farewell to some beloved characters, for in war, no one is guaranteed immunity. There were two characters, just two, that I thought were safe (and neither of them were Harry.) I was proven wrong, and it is just one cruel, devastating loss.

If the Horcrux quest seemed a little too conveniently resolved, and if the wand-politics at the end are confusing, these are small criticisms when compared to the rest of the finale. The final showdowns - for there is more than one - are poignant, beautifully written and epic, and a couple of unexpected characters get moments which I fully expect to raise a cheer in the cinemas. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is an utterly satisfying conclusion to this wonderful series that has captured the hearts and imaginations of children of all ages. While rereading the series, I have been fully absorbed both while reading it and when I was not, and it's strange to have finished it now. Roll on Thursday midnight!

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J. K. Rowling

2011-07-08T00:19:00.003+01:00

After the stifling atmosphere of the last book, it comes as a relief to be reintroduced into the familiar, friendlier Hogwarts. Yes, the wizarding world has become a dark, dangerous place. Voldemort and his folllowers are at large and in the open, and every edition of the Daily Prophet newspaper reports more death and devastation. Even the Muggles know something strange is going on. But at least the threat is in the open. Harry and Dumbledore don't have to deal with the Ministry's opposition to their every move and wild accusations - on the contrary, the Ministry want to be best buddies. It would make them look good, because rumour has it that Harry Potter is the Chosen One destined to destroy Voldemort.

Before this book was published, it had been publicised, like the last two volumes, as being darker than ever. But, for the majority of the book, this is a return to a tone that was more reminiscent of the first half of the series. Harry, Ron and Hermione are now sixteen and a great deal of the plot focuses in on their muddled attempts at romance. There also seems to be a lot more humour, even among the dark events going on outside Hogwarts - and within, if Harry's suspicions about two of his oldest adversaries are correct.
Thankfully, Harry has grown out of the rage that was the defining point of his character in Order of the Phoenix! Professor Dumbledore plays a greater role, as he and Harry work together out of school hours, seeking the information and means to defeat Lord Voldemort once and for all. Through flashbacks, Harry learns a lot about Voldemort's backstory, from his parentage, to his childhood and adulthood, before his rise to power as the most feared wizard of all time. I found Half-Blood Prince an easier book to get through, not as emotionally taxing - and frustrating! - as its predecessor with the lack of Umbridge. There is a good balance between lessons, mystery, humour and exposition, with some significant development of some of the best-loved characters.

And then, right at the end, comes an abrupt change in tone, in the most disturbing scene of the entire series, the Cave Scene. The book comes to an end with a series of climactic events that mean that nothing can ever be the same again.

If somehow you have got through the book publication in 2005, and the film release in 2009, and still don't know what happens, be warned that plot and character spoilers follow:

While Harry has shown himself as growing in maturity throughout the book, with the increased responsibility allotted to him by Dumbledore, and in his own actions, the cave scene marks Harry's coming of age. Early in Half-Blood Prince, Dumbledore tells Harry:

"I do not think you need worry about being attacked tonight."

"Why not, sir?"

"You are with me."

When it was first revealed,
this cover bothered me. I knew
very well that Harry was not a good
enough Potions student to continue
studying the subject in 6th year.
But then, I'd predicted Snape would
be made Defence Against the Dark
Arts teacher in book 7 - and that he'd
be really good! It hadn't occurred to
me that this might happen earlier,
because of the rumoured curse -
Snape was too good a character to
lose before the end of the series. But
I hadn't foreseen the changes that
happen in this book. Clearly I'm
not a candidate for Professor
Trelawney's class.

At the time, it seems like a typical Dumbledore thing to say, a quirky but reassuring lack of false modesty - after all, Dumbledore is the greatest Wizard alive at this point. So it's a testament to how far Harry has come, when Dumbledore says, after a terrifying ordeal that reverses his and Harry's roles,

"I am not worried, Harry [...] I am with you."

But it is not Harry's characterisation that is so fascinating as Severus Snape's. We've known since the end of Goblet of Fire that he has been a Death Eater, and that he is assuming his former role, acting undercover for Dumbledore. And he is doing a very good job. To fool either Dumbledore or Lord Voldemort would be unthinkable - but Snape is fooling one of them. But which one? All the evidence in this book paints him in a very suspicious light indeed, making an Unbreakable Vow to commit some unnamed act for Voldemort, arguing with Dumbledore and trying to back out of a deal with him, and offering assistance to the very dodgy-acting Draco Malfoy. But Dumbledore trusted Snape, and I couldn't bear to think Dumbledore could be wrong. What sort of message was that to give the kids? Besides, Snape has always been the most complex person in the story, an ally but completely unpleasant! To make him a villain after all would surely diminish him as a character. But sneaky Ms Rowling gave plenty of evidence to support either argument - Snape as villain or Snape as hero - but no definite proof either way.

Until the end, when Snape proves his true colours beyond all doubt.

I read the last chapters in disbelief, desperate for some revelation to prove that somehow, something wasn't as it appeared. I read on, and I read on, and at last I came to the understanding that I must have been mistaken, that there could be no coming back from what he had done. But still it bothered me. Surely there must be more to this man than meets the eye?

Movie Monday: Never Let Me Go

2011-07-04T18:20:00.045+01:00

I read the novel Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro just before the film was released and all the publicity was coming out. As it happened, I was non-stop busy when the film hit the cinemas, and had to leave it a couple of weeks. That's OK, I thought, I can see it later - except it had left the cinema within about two weeks! After all the publicity, and the casting of Keira Knightley and Carey Mulligan, I had expected it to be much more popular. But now the film's on DVD I've been able to rent it from Blockbuster to see how it translates to the screen.

Kathy (Mulligan), Ruth (Knightley) and Tommy (Andrew Garfield) grew up at Hailsham school, a seemingly ordinary English boarding school, but one that when examined closely, seems a little odd. The children of Hailsham are being raised for a very specific purpose, which is revealed to them gradually, before they are too old to quite understand, until they are grown up knowing everything which is too deeply ingrained in them for them to expect any other life.

It's not very easy to compare the reading experience of Never Let Me Go with watching the film. There can only be one first time, and to watch the film knowing what is to come makes seemingly insignificant little scenes become heartbreaking. To me, it seemed that the Big Reveal was made more obvious in the film, but perhaps that was because I already knew it. It also seemed to come a lot earlier. The book seemed to dwell on the Hailsham years for a lot longer, but it might be that I was just reading it slowly.

The film certainly emphasised the not-quite-rightness of Hailsham in a more definite way than the book. When I read things that seemed a little out of place, I couldn't be sure if it was my interpretation of Ishiguro's choice of language that made things seem skewed, or if they really were. The book is narrated by Kathy H, which gives the reader a personal view of the story from within. Although Kathy narrates part of the film too, the visual medium distanced me and made me see the friends' situation as an outsider. The new Hailsham Guardian, Miss Lucy (Sally Hawkins), is a more relatable character, as she comes to Hailsham as an adult and is plunged into a situation that doesn't seem natural to her, whereas the children know no other life.

The Hailsham students, even as grown-ups, are visibly different from people of the outside world. Even after leaving school, they are isolated, living in shared accommodation with other people "like them." Their attempts to act like "outsiders" are amusing but pitiful - copying cheesy American sitcom characters because they know no other way to relate, and sitting stiffly in a cafe, too afraid and overwhelmed even to know how to order lunch. These are clearly outsiders, conditioned for plot reasons to be different from non-Hailsham people, and yet it's nurture, not nature, that makes them so.

The tone of the book is subdued, pensive and moody, and the film turns this right up with the help of the sad, eerie soundtrack, the characters' drab costumes and unexcitable acting. The literary cushion is stripped away and the film really drove home the passivity of the characters. Most books set in this sort of world show the fighters, those who rebel against their lot. But not everyone is a revolutionary, and Never Let Me Go's central trio are those ordinary people who have no thoughts that life could be any different. It's a bleak world, and what is thoughtfully melancholy in the book is shown up as plain depressing here.

I'm glad I got to see this film - finally! - but I think it works better as a companion to the book than viewed on its own. Alone, it is too harsh and leaves rather an unpleasant aftertaste. Kathy ends by pondering about how everybody dies (or "completes") wondering if life could have given them more, thinking they've missed something and been left unfinished, and that was the feeling I got from the film. I don't think anything too important was omitted, but the movie wasn't quite satisfying. I felt there ought to be more - but what?

It's Friday! Let's talk literary lovers.

2011-07-01T20:04:00.004+01:00

It's a beautiful day here on the Isle of Wight, and I've spent the last two days in the garden with my nose in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, being lucky enough to have a four-day weekend this week. (Hurrah!)

Despite my crazy to-read list (which I swear has a life of its own and is possibly breeding without my help) I've been back in the bookshops again - quite aside from when I've been working! - and invested in four new YA books: Paranormalcy, Ballad, Amy and Roger's Epic Detour and What I Saw And How I Lied. I've made a start on Amy and Roger, but I'll give these books more attention when I've finished the Potter series.

At GReads, Ginger asked:

Mr and Mrs: Who are your favourite book couples?

Firstly, I have a confession to make: I'm not a big fan of the mushy stuff. (Shocking, I know!) For the most part, romance in books is a thing to be tolerated as long as it doesn't get in the way of the plot. So I don't tend to get excited about most couples. A lot of books are full of lovable, funny, lively or sweet characters who pair up and make each other happy. But for me, it takes more than that for me to think of them as "a couple" rather than "two characters who fall in love with each other." There has to be a special dynamic between the characters, people who complement each other. Their relationship is almost like a third character itself, where together they are stronger than each person apart. Which is not to say that either character is nothing without the other! If you've got two non-characters, then you get a non-relationship.

I think it's quite rare to find that kind of special relationship in modern teen fiction, probably because there is such a prevalence of love triangles. As I once tried to explain to a former Creepy Stalker trying to ask my advice on which of two girls he ought to ask out: if there's any question about it, if it's not obvious, then surely neither one is right to be with right now. That's my take on it, anyway.

So, who are those literary lovers whose relationship is so strong it softens even my hard heart?

Exhibit A: Anne Shirley and Gilbert Bythe, from the Anne of Green Gables series. They meet when Anne is eleven years old, and Gilbert makes a very poor first impression when he makes fun of her red hair, causing her to smash her slate over his head. Anne doesn't speak to Gilbert for years after this insult. Yet he's always present in her mind, as an enemy and a rival in school, even though she might protest her indifference to him. They become friends eventually, however, and it's quite clear that Gilbert thinks Anne is something special. But to Anne, Gilbert is just a very dear friend - or so she thinks. But he will keep appearing in her thoughts and getting in the way when she's trying to daydream!

[Anne's "home o'dreams"] was, of course, tenanted by an ideal master, dark, proud and melancholy; but oddly enough, Gilbert Blythe persisted in hanging about too, helping her arrange pictures, lay out gardens, and accomplish sundry other tasks which a proud and melancholy hero evidently considered beneath his dignity.

Bless her, she's in love and she doesn't even realise it! The great thing about the Anne series is that it doesn't just end with the happily-ever-after of a typical "romance," but shows them through their engagement living apart, married life and onto their own children, their love staying strong through good and bad times, and even when they might not necessarily be feeling "in love."

Exhibit B is drawn from the Bard himself: Benedick and Beatrice, the original love/hate relationship from Much Ado About Nothing. Both swear that they will never marry, show disdain for the opposite sex and put all their energy into trying to score points off the other - but they are so perfectly suited. No one else can match them in wit, and I have the impression that their surface antagonism hides a real enjoyment from their banter and wordplay with each other. It doesn't take a lot, really, for them to be persuaded into love with each other. To quote C. S. Lewis: "They were so used to quarreling and making it up again that they got married so as to go on doing it more conveniently." Here's their first scene together, as portrayed by Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson.

Runners-up:

Arthur and Molly Weasley - Harry Potter series. Ron's parents have been married for over twenty years and brought up seven children, and it is quite clear that Molly wears the trousers in the family. An angry Mrs Weasley is not a sight anyone likes to see up close, and Mr Weasley appears to be a typical hen-pecked husband, but the couple have a real love for each other which shines through, even when Mrs Weasley is shouting at her husband again for meddling with the muggle technology that he is so fond of.

Sam and Sybil Vimes - Discworld novels. When we first meet Sam Vimes, Captain of the City Watch, he is an angry, cynical drunk who is going nowhere. Lady Sybil Ramkin - is a jolly-hockey-sticks type of noblewoman who dresses in her scruffiest clothes and looks after sick dragons. She is a sensible, motherly woman who is able to stand up for herself and her loved ones, maybe a toned-down version of Molly Weasley. It's clear that Sam and Sybil need each other. Vimes is too forceful a character to allow himself to be wrapped around his wife's finger, but she can firmly but gently persuade him to do things he doesn't want to, when no one else can. It is Sybil, and Vimes' love for her that saves him from the darkness inside himself.

Finally - a late addition to my favourite couples list - Faramir and Eowyn - Lord of the Rings. We don't get to see much of them together; in fact they don't even meet until near the end of the book. Eowyn is always described as a cold, strong, beautiful woman; she's full of love for her country, Rohan, as much courage and skill on the battlefield as her brother, but always she is forbidden from proving her worth because she is a woman. She is in love with warrior king Aragorn - or in love with the idea of him - and full of despair for the future. Then she meets Faramir, who does not view her with condescension, but respect and admiration for a remarkable woman. He offers her hope, and when she allows herself to fall in love with him, she is able to let down her guard without worrying about looking weak. Both know what it is to carry all of the burdens of their family and none of the glory - Faramir, though a respected soldier and wise, clever man, was always overshadowed by his elder brother Boromir. This is a marriage of equals, and the scene in which they realise their love for each other has always made me go a little bit swoony inside.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, J. K. Rowling

2011-06-29T22:36:00.002+01:00

It was the summer of 2003. My dad was the first person on the Isle of Wight to pre-order the fifth Harry Potter book, happening to be in the shop where I now work, when the publication date was – after a three-year wait – finally announced. I was in the lower sixth form (junior year of high school, to my American readers) and my friends and I spent plenty of lunchtimes and free periods rereading the initial four books and trying to figure out what clues J. K. Rowling had planted in them, discussing what we thought might happen next. We had picked up on Dumbledore’s look of “something like triumph” when he had heard that Voldemort was now protected by Lily Potter’s sacrifice. What did this mean? What was the Order of the Phoenix, and did it have anything to do with the messages Dumbledore had sent out to Professor Lupin, “the old crowd,” including a Mrs Figg – the same Mrs Figg who had babysat for Harry before he knew of his Wizard heritage? I myself wondered about Dumbledore’s throwaway line about Professor Trelawney having brought her total of real predictions up to two – what was the first, and was it plot-significant?

Order of the Phoenix was published
with a choice of covers, catering for
the growing adult readership who'd
rather not be seen reading a kids' book.

And the big question was who dies? J. K. Rowling had let slip that she had killed off a main character, and that the scene had made her cry, and it seemed that question was more interesting than the other 700-odd pages of plot development. Recently I found the old school homework planner in which I had written my shortlist of possible victims. Hagrid. Neville. Lupin – because I knew he was returning. Sirius. Ron. Was I right about any of them? If you’ve read the book, you’ll know.

I think this was the first book with a midnight release, with Ottaker’s bookshop temporarily rebranded “Pottaker’s.” (Groan!) I didn’t go to any of the bookshop events, but I did note that HMV was opening an hour early, and I went down there to buy my shiny new book, not even peeking at the back or cover-flap blurbs. In fact, the postman looked at my book before I did. He spoke to me as I was walking home, “Nice day. You’re up early. You haven’t been buying the new Harry Potter book, have you?” he asked, sounding bored. “Yeah…” I said in the same tone. “Oooh! Let’s have a look!”

It was, as the postman had said, a beautiful day, and I read in the garden. All that day, I read – it was a Saturday – but as the day came to a close I realised I’d rather savour it, draw it out a bit longer. Who knew how long we’d have to wait for another new Potter book? But then I had to go back to school on the Monday, with about a quarter of the book left to go. “Have you read the new Harry Potter book?” asked a certain little squirt in the lunch queue. I should name and shame him, but I won’t. “I’m reading it,” I said, “So don’t…” “[NAME OMITTED*] dies,” he said, before I could get my hands over my ears. Thank you very much! I wanted to believe he was just messing around, but I was watching out for the event now, and not surprised when it happened after all. This boy was in my sister’s class and friendship group at school, and apparently he made himself very unpopular both in 2003, and then in 2005, when Half-Blood Prince was published, by giving away crucial plot spoilers to people trying to savour the story. Not decent, old chap. Not cricket.

***

But onto the book itself. Perhaps it’s because I’d familiarised myself with the first four books over the previous three years, but Order of the Phoenix felt like the odd book out. It didn’t seem to fit in, somehow. And, to be honest, it’s my least favourite book in the series. In each of the books so far there has been a sense of danger. Lord Voldemort has always been out there somewhere, plotting world domination and Harry’s murder, and now he has returned, the threat is stronger than ever. Harry, Dumbledore et al know it is only a matter of time before outright war.

But worse than the deadly fear is the opposition from the Ministry of Magic. Not only do the Minister and his supporters refuse to believe that Voldemort has returned, but they actively hinder the spreading of the unwelcome news, discrediting it as madness and lies. At Hogwarts, the Ministry is represented by the awful Dolores Umbridge, the latest Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who is largely responsible for ensuring that actually learning any kind of self-defence is brutally punished. As Umbridge slowly gains more power at the school, the book’s atmosphere becomes unbearably oppressive. One can’t even love to hate Umbridge, who makes Severus Snape appear a real sweetie by comparison.

As well as my least favourite character in the series, two of my favourite characters, clumsy young witch Tonks, and dippy fourth-year Luna Lovegood, are introduced in this book, and we are reunited with former Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers Remus Lupin and Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody – the real Moody, this time. We also learn more about Sirius Black, Severus Snape and Harry’s own parents, and some shocking revelations about Harry's father come to light.

We get to see a bit of the wizarding world outside of Hogwarts: much of the action takes place in the Ministry of Magic buildings, and Rowling goes into more detail about Wizard Politics – an ugly game. There are some great plotlines – the titular Order’s covert war against Voldemort despite the Ministry’s opposition, Harry’s mysterious dreams in which he seems to be reading the mind of Lord Voldemort, the students uniting against Umbridge and the Ministry to form Dumbledore’s Army – a sort of trainee Order of the Phoenix - and we learn more about Harry's parents. Yet this book also contains are several subplots which I find less enjoyable to read about. As well as the poisonous Umbridge woman, Hagrid’s story leaves me cold, and Harry throws a year-long strop, shouting at anyone and everyone. Then again, he is fifteen. Finally, I think the scenes at the Ministry of Magic have too high a concentration of weirdness which is left largely unexplained. I take away from the chapters in the Department of Mysteries a vague, blurry impression of sometimes overwhelming, sometimes grotesque magic all happening too fast to take in. Although the Order of the Phoenix is still a great read, it is a vast and chaotic novel which could probably have benefitted from tighter editing.

*Name omitted for COMMON DECENCY, a concept that some people might not understand. Not that I'm still sore, mind you. Not me. Nope.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, J. K. Rowling

2011-06-26T22:00:00.000+01:00

If Azkaban was when the wizarding world of Harry Potter* started to change, Goblet of Fire marks the real turning point. After the Quidditch World Cup celebrations are ruined by Voldemort’s old supporters showing themselves and causing chaos and panic, Harry and his friends expect another school year of magic lessons, Quidditch, rule-breaking and perhaps a finale of risking their lives in some adventure. But the pattern is broken from the moment Dumbledore announces there will be no Quidditch cup this year, because there will be an even bigger event at Hogwarts: The Triwizard Tournament: a trio of challenging tasks for the champions of three wizard schools: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Not that Harry, Ron or Hermione will be affected directly, except that they will be provided with a bit of entertainment. The Triwizard Tournament is far too complicated and dangerous, and Dumbledore has installed failsafe measures to ensure that no one under seventeen can be selected as champion…

Oh.

Yeah…

Somehow, Harry Potter has found himself in deep. Again. Putting one’s name into the Goblet of Fire signifies a legally binding contract – if the Goblet says you are to be a champion, champion you must be. Never mind that Harry didn’t – couldn’t – enter his own name. For the first time, there are four wizards and witches competing in the Triwizard Tournament (though they don’t change the name) and Harry’s year is devoted to finding ways to survive the Tournament. Because in all probability, the person who nominated Harry – in his own category without any competition – did so in the hopes that he will die in the process.

But when Harry does survive – and win – the Tournament, it is only the start of his troubles. In the most horrifying, terrifying and gruesome scene so far, Voldemort, He Who Must Not Be Named, the Dark Lord is reborn. So far we’ve only seen him as a whisper, a memory, or heard about what he was like through other people’s stories. He seemed like a fairly standard memory of a children’s story’s villain, mostly harmless now. This new Voldemort puts an end to that delusion: he is terrifying. Although nearly-dying seems to be an occupational hazard for Harry at the end of the summer term, never has death felt so real – we witnessed the first on-page death of an established character moments before – and so inescapable.

In my opinion, the adaptation of Goblet of Fire is the first really good Harry Potter film, faithful to the book without being slavishly so, a good film as well as a good interpretation of the book. As such, I found on this reread that the film had a stronger impression on me than I had realised, and that there were many wonderful moments in the book which I had completely forgotten about: the Weasley family arriving at the Dursleys’ house to collect Harry for the rest of the summer holidays, Fred and George’s Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and Hermione’s entire S.P.E.W. campaign for the better treatment of house elves. (Still not entirely convinced by the house elves, I wasn’t too sorry that they were omitted from the film.) Even in the scenes that had been filmed directly from the book, I discovered I got more pleasure from reading than watching them. The scenes of chaos at the Quidditch World Cup felt so much more intense to read on the page than to watch a load of people running and screaming in the dark on the screen. And the Graveyard scene is so much scarier in my imagination than someone else’s translated to the screen.

I wonder why that is? Perhaps what is described but unseen appeals to the individual’s own worst fears for them to imagine the worst. When it is given shape through film, there is only one way to interpret it, and that is what is shown. Maybe it’s because you can read a book at your own speed, savour the moments and take your time to let things sink in. Whatever the reason, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is a fine example of the power of the imagination, and how superior books can be to the film of the same story.

*not the theme park

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

2011-06-23T22:25:00.002+01:00

Contains some spoilers (just in case you've survived this long unspoiled!)

After J. K. Rowling's first two fun and magical boarding-school adventures, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban seems to be the point at which the series starts to assert itself as something extraordinary. The first two books worked well as connected, stand-alone stories, setting the scene for Hogwarts and the wizarding world. Although there is still much to learn and discover all the way through the series, book three is where, for me, The Story really begins.

Prisoner of Azkaban has a noticeably darker tone than its two predecessors. I will state this once, and in my reviews for the rest of the series you can just take this for granted. Each book is darker than the last. (When the last few films have been released, this information was announced by reviewers as if it were some great surprise. We all know it. Let's move on.) So far, despite events at Hogwarts, the wizarding world as a whole has been at peace. Now, there is a flutter of fear in the air. Notorious mass-murderer Sirius Black has escaped from the supposedly inescapeable Azkaban Prison - and all the evidence suggests that he's trying to kill Harry. The Dementors, shadowy prison guards who spread despair wherever they go, have been set to guard Hogwarts, but they don't seem to be doing any good, and their presence is having a serious effect on Harry. Thankfully, for the first time there is a competent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts: the mild-mannered Professor Remus Lupin, who gives Harry some valuable extra coaching. But Lupin has some dark secrets of his own...

Prisoner of Azkaban is one of my favourite books in the Harry Potter series. There is less world-building and more plot, a twisty, page-turning and very satisfying plot. We learn some of Harry's family history, about Harry's father at school, and about the circumstances leading up to their deaths. Harry starts studying two new subjects: Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Although both of these classes are crucial to the plot of this story, it is probably Lupin's extra-curricular Patronus charm lessons that are the most valuable to Harry. In later books, the Patronus seems to come as second nature to Harry, passing it on to his fellow students, and I forget how advanced magic it is, but for Harry, aged only thirteen, to produce a Patronus is extraordinary.

Remus Lupin is one of my favourite characters in the books - and the first sympathetic werewolf I ever encountered. Rowling managed to change the way I viewed some of the typical "monsters" of fantasy and horror writing, and influenced a couple of werewolves into my own writing. Again, I was blown away by the twists and revelations that came at the end of the book, and by this point it is apparent that the books are coming together to lead up to some bigger event; that the stand-alone stories are just chapters in a seven-volume epic.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, J. K. Rowling

2011-06-22T18:47:00.002+01:00

With just a few weeks to go before Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 is released into the cinemas, I decided to pick up the series where I left off a month or two ago and see if I could reread the lot before going to see the film. The Chamber of Secrets is a lighter read than I’ve come to expect from the series; this is the book – and film – I tend to neglect the most. The Story hasn’t really got started yet, and this book still feels quite safe and self-contained. Sure, there is danger; someone or something has been attacking students at Hogwarts to leave them comatose – and it’s only by luck that no one has died! If the culprit is not caught, Hogwarts must close! But we know that, eventually, everything will be all right, Harry and his friends will find out who did it, might have a near-death experience, but they’ll pull through and save the day.

Rereading this book when you know the whole story, you realise anew how much Harry still has to learn about the wizarding world. In this book, Harry, Ron and Hermione learn how to use the essential Expelliarmus spell, how to make and use polyjuice potion, and for the first time Azkaban prison casts its shadow. We meet the father of school bully Draco Malfoy and start to understand that the Malfoy family are not just snobs, not just nasty, but dark wizards and thinly-veiled supporters of Voldemort. It is here that we hear the insult, “mudblood,” for the first time and find out just how seriously some wizards take the “purity” of their blood – and everyone else’s. This book also has a wonderful comic moment in the duelling club, led by self-obsessed new teacher Professor Lockhart and cold, cruel Professor Snape, who one has to love to hate. I find myself mentally cheering Snape on, because Lockhart is just that annoying.

In some ways this is one of my lesser favourite books in the series. I’m not a big fan of the giant spider detour, and to be blunt, Dobby the house-elf is somewhat irritating. On the other hand, the Chamber of Secrets is a thrilling mystery, and I love the storyline with Tom Riddle’s old diary, which seems to be a magical revelation into the past, but turns out to be something much more sinister. I remember being amazed by the twist at the end when we discover the other, more famous identity of handsome, popular golden boy Tom Riddle.

My Sister Lives on the Mantlepiece, Annabel Pitcher (audiobook)

2011-06-18T14:22:00.005+01:00

Five years ago, Jamie’s sister Rose was killed in a terrorist attack in London. He doesn’t really remember Rose, because he was only five at the time, but his family has never recovered. His mum left just a few weeks ago after having an affair with Nigel from the support group. Jamie’s dad drinks all the time and hates all Muslims. Rose’s twin sister Jas – now fifteen – has dyed her hair pink and got her nose pierced, an act seen as a betrayal by their parents, because she doesn’t look like Rose any more. It’s like Jas and Jamie are less visible than the urn on the mantlepiece, less present than the hole where Rose ought to be, the gap around which their whole family revolves.

After Mum’s desertion, Dad, Jas and Jamie move to a small village in the Lake District to start a new life. At his new school, Jamie doesn’t fit in. His teacher always seems to ask the very questions he can’t answer, and is frustrated by his reticence and apparent stupidity. The other kids call him “freak,” with the exception of sparky, mischievous Sunya, who recognises in him a kindred spirit, a fellow super-hero. But Jamie dreads to think how his father would react to his friendship with a Muslim girl, when he blames all Muslims for Rose’s death.

Jamie is a bright, unusual child with a vivid imagination. His narration is full of bright similes and metaphors which fit perfectly:

“I was more nervous than the most nervous person I could think of, which right now is the lion from The Wizard of Oz. My tummy had something bigger and scarier than butterflies inside it. Maybe they were eagles or hawks or something. Or, come to think of it, they could have been those monkeys with wings that kidnap Dorothy and take her to the witch that's scared of water.”

Jamie doesn’t really remember his sister Rose. Every day he sees the effect of her death on his parents, but for him that’s normal. He doesn’t remember when life was any different. For the outside reader, it is clear that something is very, very wrong. I felt intense pity for Jamie’s parents – one could never get over the loss of a child – but they are unreasonable in the way they treat their surviving children, so wrapped up in their own pain that they resent Jas and Jamie for not being Rose, or for not letting their lives revolve around her absence. When Jamie had to write a school essay about a hero, and chose footballer Wayne Rooney, his mother made him rewrite it about Rose, dictating the memories he didn’t have. Then, at a birthday party, when Jamie asked for food, his dad filled a plate – to put on the mantlepiece beside Rose’s urn. Jamie is such an optimistic child, but his hope is painful to an older, wiser reader (or listener listener) because of the awareness of the crushing disappointment that is to come when his wishes don’t come true, or if they do, they aren’t what he had hoped. At times the story just seems to be disappointment after disappointment, and Jamie has to learn the difficult lesson that adults don’t always get it right, don’t have all the answers and do let you down. But they get there, slowly, until Jamie concludes:

If OFSTED inspected my family, then I know what grade we'd get: Satisfactory. OK, but not brilliant, but that's fine by me.
I downloaded the audio version of this book when I was struck by a bad migraine attack. I couldn’t sleep for the whole time but wasn’t up to reading, so I let David Tennant read this to me instead. Although he is a talented voice actor, seemingly able to imitate any accent he tries, in this case his reading is simple and understated, letting the story do the work, narrating with the right amount of innocent hope, eagerness and subdued sadness. I bought the audiobook from Audible.co.uk, but was quite disappointed that it came as one six-hour track, so I couldn’t burn it to CD to wake me up in the morning. In future I think I’ll stick to buying audio books as CDs.

Rainbow Valley and Rilla of Ingleside, L. M. Montgomery

2011-06-17T21:13:00.001+01:00

I've decided to review the concluding two books in the Anne of Green Gables series in a single post, as I've already said a lot about Rilla of Ingleside three years ago. (You can read the original post here. Caution: It's long and full of spoilers.)

Rainbow Valley follows on from Anne of Ingleside, but by this point the Anne books aren't really about Anne Blythe, nee Shirley, any more. Rainbow Valley isn't even a Blythe family book, but instead is centred on a new family, the Merediths. John Meredith is the new Presbyterian minister, a young widower with four children. Although academically brilliant, Mr Meredith is completely at a loss when it comes to bringing up his children, and Jerry, Faith, Una and Carl cause scandal in the community by their wild behaviour.

I found Rainbow Valley to be much more enjoyable than Anne of Ingleside. The Blythe children, who befriend the Merediths, are a little older, and their escapades are less cutesy-poo and more heartfelt. Under the children's silly scapes is their real longing to get their father's attention, and to become respectable members of the community. Although I didn't feel that I got to know the boys very well - I would get Jerry Meredith confused with Jem Blythe, both being the eldest of their respective families, and having similar names - there was real character in the girls: impulsive, big-hearted Faith, and shy, thoughtful Una. We also got to know Walter Blythe better, who is growing to be an extraordinary, unearthly boy with his own battles.

Then there's Mary Vance, a runaway orphan "adopted" by the Merediths. Mary's story has strong parallels with Anne's own childhood, but a very different character - maybe an insight into what Anne could have been like without her imagination? Mary's language and attitude horrifies the minister's children, and even after she is being "brought up properly," she has a sharp tongue and too high an opinion of herself. I don't exactly like Mary Vance, but there is no denying she is a living character.

Perhaps I felt more interested in Rainbow Valley than its predecessor because L. M. Montgomery herself was more interested. Ingleside and Windy Willows, which are less of a joy for me to read, were written at a later date when I understand Montgomery had fallen out of love with Anne, and it shows. In Rainbow Valley there is stronger characterisation, with some newcomers who are more than gossippy old women and match-making subjects, but who take on a valuable role in the story. We meet intelligent, argumentative Norman Douglas, the West sisters imprisoned by their own vows to each other, and of course Mary and the Merediths, all of whom are as knowable as the Avonlea residents of old.

Anne's story concludes in Rilla of Ingleside, when her children are grown up, and so has the story. For the first time the timeless, slightly other-worldly, other-time classic is brutally placed into an exact place in history: World War One. I found it interesting to read about Canada as part of the British empire and the characters' patriotism towards a country most of them had never seen. I felt uncomfortable noticing that Rilla, who was so set against her brothers going to war, addressed a meeting about dying for one's country being glorious, and helping to persuade young lads to join up.

But this book does not allow idealism to overshadow the ugliness of war. We don't get to see the action first-hand - although one of Jem's letters home was reminiscent of some of war poet Wilfred Owen's writing - but Montgomery focuses in on the agony and helplessness of the people on the home front; the families, friends and lovers of the soldiers. Though full of comic and heartwarming scenes, through Rilla, Anne and Rilla's friend Gertrude, we feel the relentless agony of life, love and loss at such an unpredictable time, the fear that must underscore every aspect of life "Till the boys come home." And, of course, many never would return, including one of the Blythes' most beloved friends-and-relations. To Gertrude, Rilla, Una Meredith and me as a reader, it seemed that such loss could not be borne, but of course they survive and carry on. They must. But Rilla of Ingleside made it clear that for all who lived through the fateful years, the world had changed forever in a way that one can never quite get over.

Rilla of Ingleside is a guaranteed tearjerker, a bittersweet ending to the story that started off as such sweet escapism. In some ways I am glad that Anne retreated into the background in the later stories, as it seems so terrible that her story should take such a turn. By this point, this is far more than just a children's story, but a unique piece of World War One literature that deserves a place in the canon.