The Last Garden, by Eva Hornung

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dog boy, prime minister's literary award

Eva Hornung writes unusual and powerful books, with an amazing affinity for animals.

Benedict Orion comes home from boarding school – excited to get away from books and into the everyday work of the family farm – to find his parents dead in a murder-suicide.

In deep shock, he retreats, unable anymore to step foot into the home he loved.

He finds refuge in the barn, in close quarters with the old mare Melba, and the young feisty stallion Fell.

His neighbours in Wahrheit, a close-knit Germanic religious farming community in South Australia, are patiently waiting for the second coming of the Messiah.

Benedict – now living in the barn, never leaving the farm – remains withdrawn from the horrors of the past or thoughts of the future, existing solely through the horses and the needs of the farm and the passing seasons.

Wahrheit’s pastor keeps watch, visiting and bringing food from the community, seeing the gawky teenager slowly rediscover himself. But there are other pressures building in Wahrheit, and the pastor has to find his own way through doubts and trauma.

Hornung won the Prime Minister’s Literary Award for her last book, Dog Boy, which explored some similar territory in the close bonds between boy and animal.

Full of symbolism but not overpowered by it, this is a powerful and wonderful book, and the writing is mesmerising.

This book was published in may 2017. The review was printed in the Herald Sun’s Weekend magazine.

Hello Goodbye, by Emile Brewin

Tags

conscription, Vietnam War

Welcome exploration of what feels like an underexplored part of Melbourne’s past.

May Callaghan is a good Catholic girl who is barely surviving the boredom of the small Victorian country town where she is finishing high school in 1968.

In the background, the Vietnam War and conscription is a constant threat to the young men she knows, and talk of it rattles her father, who has terrible war memories of his own.

May falls for Sam, who has an itch to get out of town that’s even bigger than her own; her cousin Lucy has her own ways of stretching the town’s moral strait-jacket.

Sam heads to Melbourne, landing in a share house in Carlton. When May follows, she’s confronted by a different world, one with draft dodgers and anti-war activists, and plenty of confrontations and excitement.

Her new circumstances transform her life, bringing condemnation from family and authorities, but she has Sam and her new housemates – indigenous student Clancy and bohemian Ruby – and that has to be enough.

Brewin’s debut is an engaging coming-of-age novel that explores a volatile and colourful part of Melbourne’s history.

She has received an Australian Society of Authors Emerging Writers and Illustrators mentorship.

This book was published in June 2017. The review appeared in the Herald Sun’s Weekend magazine, 

Six Tudor Queens: Anne Boleyn, A King’s Obsession, by Alison Weir

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Katherine of Aragon, Six Tudor Queens, the fall of anne boleyn, the lady in the tower

Interesting instalment in the series on the wives of Henry VIII by the respected historian.

I thought there wasn’t much more you could say about the most notorious and most written about of Henry VIII’s six wives, Anne Boleyn.

At least 24 books plus a couple of plays and TV series have featured her just in the past decade, ranging from the serious to the slightly silly (the vampire version).

But I was wrong. Historian Alison Weir here turns her extensive academic research into a popular novel, tracing Anne’s life from her earliest years – an area often ignored by writers in favour of her dramatic and tragic later years.

It makes a good companion piece to the serious history Weir wrote some years ago about Anne, The Lady in the Tower, which focuses on the final stages of her life. In making the switch from history to popular writing, Weir has modernised the language, sometimes going too far into the jarringly modern (“Orders is orders,” Sir Edmund barked).

This is the second in Weir’s comprehensive series The Six Tudor Queens, each installment told with a fair degree of sympathy from that queen’s point of view.

The result is a portrait of a doomed queen that feels both accurate and very human, in a book that is enjoyably engrossing.

My review of book 1 in this series: Six Tudor Queens: Katherine of Aragon, the True Queen, by Alison Weir

https://corinna1blog.wordpress.com/2016/05/23/six-tudor-queens-katherine-of-aragon-the-true-queen-by-alison-weir/

My (brief) published review of the precursor to this book: The Lady in the Tower: The Fall of Anne Boleyn

Popular British historian Alison Weir concentrates on Tudor queen Anne Boleyn’s downfall, from the time she first suspects she’s in trouble to her death on the scaffold – just four months – and the aftermath. Weir sets the record straight on a number of myths in this awesomely thorough account, with the rare (for a history) result that these feel like real people caught in a real tragedy. However, that incredible depth on a narrow subject can feel like too much detail. A must for fans of Tudor history.

Into the White: Scott’s Antarctic Journey, by Joanna Grochowicz

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scott's last expedition

It’s one of the great adventure stories, and this is a good introduction for all ages.

Captain Robert Falcon Scott’s hunt for the South Pole is one of the great, tragic stories of exploration and adventure.

From the day his ship, the Terra Nova, left New Zealand on November 26, 1910, to his death after encountering temperatures of  -40C, it was a tale both of extraordinary achievement and suffering.

Serious scientific research accompanied Scott’s aim of being the first to the South Pole, but he was beaten in that international race by Norwegian Roald Amundsen’s group by just a few weeks.

On his journey back to base, his small group encountered unexpectedly severe weather, and failed by just 11 miles to get to their next food source, only a relatively short distance from base.

It was an extraordinary trip, in circumstances that are almost impossible to imagine.

Grochowicz tells the story simply and vividly, giving life to the crew and fellow explorers who went with Scott so far into those appalling conditions, with just the support of a bunch of long-suffering ponies and sled dogs.

This is a great entry into what is a truly epic story, with a great collection of photographs.

And then go find a copy of Scott’s Last Expedition: The Personal Journals of Captain R.F. Scott – still widely available more than a century after publication in 1913 – for what is the incredible first-hand account.

This book was published in April 2017. The review was also published in the Herald Sun’s Weekend magazine.

The Lost Book of the Grail, by Charlie Lovett

Some fascinating history, some amusing dialogue, and (for me) an unbelievable romance. Generally quite good fun. 

The Grail, ancient secrets, hidden chambers deep under cathedrals, forgotten ruins, lost books, the legend of Arthur, generations of brave guardians of a precious artifact, an intrepid investigator and his pretty co-conspirator.

So far, so Da Vinci Code.

But this is a universe away from that genre of historic religious thriller. Arthur Prescott is a book-loving university lecturer who is impatient with modern technology.

His passion is the Barchester Cathedral library, where ancient books give him an opportunity to pursue his interest in the Grail, a secret calling passed on to him by his grandfather.

In comes Bethany Davis, there to “digitize” the ancient manuscripts to make them available to all. At first at odds, they become companions in the search for the lost book of Ewolda, the little-known Saxon saint associated with the site, racing against time to save the precious library from being sold and dispersed.

Charlie Lovett, best-selling author of The Bookman’s Tale, is the American son of a Professor of English and his love for Britain shows on every page, to the point where the Englishness of everything threatens to become overly twee. (It’s a thing you see in the books of a few American writers of English crime. Early Elizabeth George is a classic example). And yes, even Jeeves gets a mention.

It could easily have been titled: What ho, Jeeves! Is that the Grail?

But in all, this is a fun and light-hearted romp through history. Some will recognise Barchester as the creation of 19th century British author Anthony Trollope.

His bloody Project, by Graeme Macrae Burnet

Tags

booker prize

This was shortlisted for the Man Booker prize. I haven’t read the winner yet, but this is the one that seems to have had the most positive word-of-mouth.

Subtitled Documents relating to the case of Roderick Macrae, the book is written as a series of documents detailing a triple murder in a remote Scottish village in 1869.

It starts with the view of the killer’s character by the people who knew him, in statements taken by police.

The core of it is the story is from Roddy’s perspective as he sits in jail awaiting trial, having freely admitted his guilt. There are also sections on his trial, and a statement from a psychologist who examined him.

We know that Roddy is guilty of the crimes, the brutal murder of a local community bully and two others.

The exploration of the story is why – what led him to do it, and is he legally sane?

This is a fascinating story, beautifully written and engaging from first to last. The world Macrae creates in the poverty-stricken Highlands village is vivid and complete – the buildings, the day-to-day life, the hardships, the crofters, the rules.

Highly recommended.

 

 

Historical crime series: a selection

Tags

amy stewart, Constance Kopp, Dreaming Spies, jacqueline winspear, journey to munich, lady cop makes trouble, Laurie R King, maisie dobbs, mary russell, sherlock holmes

I like a good crime series, and there are a few historical ones in my collection. I have lately been sick with a ferociously filthy cold, and this is what I can bear to read when I’m stuck in bed for days on end, sneezing and coughing and feeling like death. It’s not too hard on the brain, but there’s enough going on to keep you awake and turning those pages.  

Dreaming Spies, by Laurie R King

Laurie King’s  series is, for my money, the best modern book adaptation of the Sherlock Holmes story. Her angle is the introduction of an assistant, the remarkable Mary Russell, who becomes Holmes’ partner both in investigative work and life.

These books are not generally available in Australian bookshops, which I think is a great pity. I started on them when I was living the US, and now I’m back home get them via Book Depository, checking up every so often to see if she has produced another.

This is the 13th in the series, and was published in 2015. Like any long series, it’s not necessarily quite what it was. The first half a dozen were exceptionally good, usually drawing in another major work of fiction (for example, Rudyard Kipling’s Kim) and treating the characters as real in the context of the book. The standard may have slipped a little, but they remain a highly entertaining series and Mary Russell is a formidable character.

In this Mary and Sherlock are heading for Japan by ship and are drawn in to an extortion bid that involves a member of the British Peerage and the Japanese Emperor’s heir. Bring in ninjas, cruise ship life and Oxford’s Bodleian Library.

I commend them to anyone who reads historical crime or Holmes tributes. King has many fans and has deservedly won a swag of major awards.

Journey to Munich, by Jacqueline Winspear

This is the 12th in the series featuring Maisie Dobbs, published in March this year.

Maisie is about as British as it would be possible to get. Brought up in straitened circumstances early in the 20th century, she goes into service but finds a mentor who gives her an opportunity to use her brains and rise above a maid’s life.

After studying, she sets up as a psychologist and investigator at a time when women did not typically do such work, but her calm, straightforward and intelligent approach gives her success.

In this outing, she has returned to London after working as a nurse in the Spanish Civil War, where she was working out her grief after losing both her husband and unborn child.

Her old contacts in the Secret Service ask her to go to Munich in 1938, where the Nazi Party’s power is rising and becoming more troublesome. She is to pose as the daughter of an important British industrialist, whose release has been arranged after two years in the Dachau prison camp for offering support to traitors. While she is there, she also intends to look up a young woman who has walked out on her husband and child, and whose parents are worried about what trouble she might be in.

There are a couple of plot holes in this big enough to drive a tank through, but it is still a enjoyable story and perfect for a breezy read.

I haven’t read all of the series, but I have read at least half, and all of the early ones. In the next, I understand Maisie is to reopen her business as a private investigator and move away from international intrigue, and I think that’s a good move for readers.

Lady Cop Makes Trouble, by Amy Stewart

This one is touted as the “American answer to Maisie Dobbs”, and that’s probably a fair call. Constance is nowhere near as dignified and controlled as Maisie, but she is an independent and intelligent woman who has no desire to be “girly”, and who is perfectly able to look after herself, and deal with a criminal if necessary.

This is the second in the series (I have not read the first), published in September this year.

The angle here is that the heroine Constance Kopp is a real person, and the stories are, roughly speaking, true, in that they are based on news stories of the time, slightly embellished.

Constance, who is orphaned and lives with (and supports) her sisters, is working with the Bergin County Sheriff in New York, hoping to get her Deputy’s badge. But when a prisoner she is in charge of escapes, she is demoted back to being in charge of the female prisoners at the jail. She is determined to track the man down, to show she is still worthy of being given the badge, and follows some less obvious routes to track down her man.

This is a lot of fun, without every becoming too silly. Stewart is fairly new to fiction, but is an experienced author of non-fiction.

2016: My books of the year

Tags

ned kelly awards, pulitzer prize

It’s been a big year, with some fabulous books released. It’s not always the case, but  female writers absolutely dominate my list, across the board.

My reading has been dominated by Australian writing, but not exclusively. I like to read across a range of genres, so this is not a definitive selection from any one field. It reflects my fairly eclectic tastes.

First, a full disclosure: Quite a few of the books mentioned here were read and reviewed for the Herald Sun‘s Weekend magazine, and many of these were free copies. But I do not give positive reviews just because a book is free – typically I did not publish reviews of books I did not like (there are a couple of exceptions, including The Other Side of the World, by Stephanie Bishop, but these are usually books I have bought rather than received for review). Everything I reviewed I read in full. I didn’t review everything I read through the year, and this includes a couple that I didn’t much enjoy (this includes books such as Magda Szubanski’s Reckoning).

Best book
My Name is Lucy Barton, by Elizabeth Strout
I loved everything about this book. Strout won the Pulitzer Prize for her earlier novel Olive Kitteridge, but I thought this one was every bit as good.
Runners-up: Commonwealth, by Ann Patchett;
Everything Brave is Forgiven, by Chris Cleave
Link to review:
https://wordpress.com/post/corinna1blog.wordpress.com/218

Best Australian
The Windy Season, by Sam Carmody
I’ve read quite a lot of new Australian writing this year, and I’m wildly impressed and proud of what is being produced in this country. This is a bit of a grab bag that includes memoir, non-fiction, crime, general literature and YA. There are quite a few that were contenders: Zane Lovitt’s Black Teeth, which was completely unexpected and inventive; Poum and Alexandre, by Catherine de Saint Phalle, which was a wonderful memoir about the now-Australian-based author’s eccentric French upbringing; The Museum of Modern Love by Heather Rose, which was so thought-provoking;  Surgery, The Ultimate Placebo, by Ian Harris, a non-fiction book that should be read by anyone contemplating any surgery at all; The Dry, by Jane Harper, which was a crime debut that read like the latest outing from an experienced, blockbuster author (it was the most accomplished debut I read by a mile); and Dave Warner’s Before It Breaks, because he’s a great storyteller. This one won the Ned Kelly Award for best novel in 2016. I chose Sam Carmody’s because it was a powerful combination of coming-of-age and mystery, with strong characters and an almost physical sense of menace. It caught me from the first page, and never let go.
Link: https://wordpress.com/post/corinna1blog.wordpress.com/301
Note: I’m just in the process of finishing Hannah Kent’s The Good People, and that may take over.

Best crime
Dead Man’s Blues, by Ray Celestin
I’ve lost interest in most of the big crime series and blockbuster authors, in much the same way the way as I never bother any more going to see the big American blockbuster movies, because there never seems to be anything behind the big special effects and all the smoke and mirrors. But I still love crime. So this is very much about   some of the smaller fry – much classier and more interesting, IMHO. Australia is increasingly producing crime novels to be proud of, across a broad range of styles (see a small selection in the category above). I’m also a fan of some of the big female international writers, Fred Vargas and Louise Penny among them. But this one captivated me from the start. There are reasons: I lived in Chicago for a while and it’s is brought vividly to life here; I love the jazz music that is so skilfully threaded through the story; and the storytelling is exemplary. This was the second in a series, with the first one ordered to arrive as a special Christmas present to me.
Runners-up: The Dry, by Jane Harper;
The Other Side of Silence, by Phillip Kerr
Link: https://wordpress.com/post/corinna1blog.wordpress.com/291

Best book suitable for a younger audience
The Bone Sparrow, By Zana Fraillon
Because it’s time the story of what Australia is doing to genuine refugees becomes something we talk about. This is a beautiful book, with a powerful story.
Link: https://wordpress.com/post/corinna1blog.wordpress.com/267

 

Best non-fiction
The Hidden Life of Trees, by Peter Wohlleben
If you are interested in the natural world at all, you’ll find this interesting.
Runner up: Frantumaglia, by Elena Ferrante
Link: https://wordpress.com/post/corinna1blog.wordpress.com/355

 

The best book I read, not published this year:
The Neapolitan quartet, by Elena Ferrante
I have not yet written my review of this series (I will soon), but I loved it. I don’t recall ever reading women written like this – it was startling and engrossing. The ending was perfection. I didn’t always like most of the people, but they were real, and what they were feeling and doing was real. Like real people, they were complicated. The four books are best read in whole big blocks rather than dripping in and out, to give you a chance to really immerse yourself in these people and these lives. I read the first one on holiday in Italy, the second on the plane coming home (easiest long flight I’ve ever passed), the third immediately after, and the fourth some months later. That break between books three and four were the hardest to bridge, and it took me a little while to find my way back in. As a whole, which is I think the only way they can be read (and Ferrante herself says she sees them as one book), they were a standout.
Runner-up: All the Light We Cannot See, by Anthony Doerr

When the Lyrebird Calls, by Kim Kane

Tags

Playing Beattie Bow, Ruth Park

This new Australian children’s book references the classic and much-loved Australian time-slip story Playing Beattie Bow by Ruth Park. 

Madeleine, 12, is sent to stay with her eccentric Mum Crum – her grandmother Crumpton – over the winter holidays.

Whisked off to a Victorian town (one with a passing resemblance to Mt Macedon), she’s less than excited about a quiet stay in the country. Luckily, adventure awaits!

She finds some dainty 19^th century shoes in a hidden compartment of an old cupboard and is taking them to the town’s museum when she hears a lyrebird call in a wild corner of the local park.

In a moment, her world changes. Tumbled into the world of 1900, Madeline has to think quickly when she is found by the clever Gert and her sisters. Taken into their home, where a stern Nanny rules, Madeleine has to negotiate some decidedly uncomfortable clothing and stuffy rules while she works out what’s going on.

Apart from the girls’ parents and their servants, also in the household is the girls’ aunt, an outspoken suffragist they affectionately name Hen Pen.

When enchanting German cousin Elfriede comes to visit, the mood of the house changes.

There is tragedy ahead, and Madeleine will need all her wits about her if she is to get back into her own time safely.

Aimed at middle-grade readers, When The Lyrebird Calls is an enjoyable time-slip adventure that explores feminism and historical attitudes without getting preachy.

This book was published in October 2016. 

The Birdman’s Wife, by Melissa Ashley

Tags

john gould

This was a long overdue idea for a book, and I was fascinated by Elizabeth Gould’s life. But I found the story oddly flat, and perhaps a little too dependant on a PhD thesis.  

John Gould has long been “the birdman”, with his massive work The Birds of Australia for decades the definitive guide to our native birdlife.

But the conventional view of him as responsible for the now-iconic bird illustrations in his books is definitively thrown out in this novel, which traces the life of his wife, Elizabeth.

In this, Elizabeth steps boldly out from husband’s giant shadow to take her own place as a historically important avian artist and adventurer.

She married the energetic and charismatic Gould in 1929, and soon started on what would be her life’s work of illustrating her husband’s collection of birds, while producing eight children, two of whom died.

When he travelled to Australia in 1838 to produce his seven-volume masterwork, Elizabeth went on the demanding two-year journey with him, taking only her eldest boy, Henry, and giving birth to her seventh child during the expedition.

She died soon after she returned to England, in the days after the birth of her eighth child.

Based on Ashley’s PhD on Elizabeth, the book is carefully researched, but spends quite a lot of time describing the processes of killing, describing and preparing birds, which makes some sections a bit slow.

This book was published in September 2016. My review was first published in the Herald Sun’s Weekend magazine.