Random Jottings

Diane Setterfield

I have just received a copy of this, courtesy of the President of the Chicago branch of Bookaholics Anonymous, my very good friend Lisa, and have made the mistake of opening it while eating my breakfast.  My tea, omelette and toast are now stone cold and I am putting this book down as I have Things to Do today and they are not going to get done if I carry on.  I am not sure how this book is going to pan out and how I am going to feel about it, but listen to this quote from the first chapter when the narrator is talking about the family bookshop:

"A is for Austen, B is for Bronte, C is for Charles and D is for Dickens.  I learned my alphabet in this shop" and later "At school I kept all this shop reading to myself.......sometimes history lessons would touch upon one of the deep but random seams of knowledge I had accumulated by my haphazard reading in the shop.  Charlemagne?  I would think. What my Charlemagne"

I found myself crying out Yes, Yes when I read this.  I did the same. I reckon I worked my way through every historical fiction book in my library as a child and early teens, and many years later amazed my history teacher with my knowledge of Catherine D'Medici and Lucrezia Borgia  (thank you Jean Plaidy).  Recently, I answered a question on Charlemagne on University Challenge on TV and wondered how on earth I knew that? 

OK, so it is early days and I know I have read books before that started off so promisingly and then tail off, but this bodes well.  I have decided to abandon the Robber Bride by Margaret Atwood for the moment.  It is shaping up to be an absorbing read but I have only had the chance to paddle at the edges of it, so will take this with me on holiday to Malta where I know I will be able to plunge into it and read it in one big binge - which, Dear Reader, as you all well know is how I like to read.

More later.  Domestic day today.  Hairdresser, roots to hide yet again, visit to mother, visit to supermarket and then time to read.  And a lovely sunny day to boot.

In the Springtime of the Year

When visiting the Long Barn Books website to check out Helen Slavin's book, I spotted one written by its founder, Susan Hill.  Not published by her usual publisher, but herself, so as I have only just discovered Susan's works and only read the Simon Serrailler novels, I decided to read it.

On the back we have a quote from Jo Brand (the comedienne of traditional build of who I am rather fond, though her propensity for using the word 'shag' as often and as soon as possible in her routines, is a tad irritating) 'I love this wonderful book .... just read it'.  Nothing else.  In other words, go and found out for yourself.  So I have read it and yes, it is a wonderful book.

Ruth finds herself a widow at the age of 21 after one year of marriage.  Her husband Ben is killed in a freak accident and she must find a way to live and face the future.  She seems to have very few strengths to help her cope.  She feels she is ignorant, knew nothing until she met Ben; she has no friends and Ben's family dislike her as she married their beloved son, who is 'special' and took him away from them.  The only person she has is Jo, Ben's younger brother, wise and mature beyond his years.

This is a story of how Ruth works her way through her overwhelming grief and pain which, at times, threatens to drive her to the edge of madness.  The lightening of her sorrow marches with the seasons all of which are described beautifully in language that conjures up wonderful pictures of the countryside.  Having just returned from a week in Bath and the Cotswolds where the sky was blue, the sun shone and all around me was country full of beauty and delight, it is easy to understand how this can be a comfort in the midst of deep sorrow.

This is not a racy, fast read packed with incident and happenings.  It flows like a stream carrying the reader along.  Not to be read if you are in a hurry.  This is a book that deserves your full attention, perhaps sitting quietly, alone and undisturbed and best of all, if possible, in a garden.

Lovely.  Thank you Susan Hill if you should read this blog.

The Extra Large Medium

This book came me to me as a recommendation by DoveGrey Reader after she met the author, Helen Slavin, at Dartington this year, an event I was forced to miss due to a combination of heat exhaustion, commuting and hay fever.

I picked up a copy of this book in Waterstones and was immediately captivated by the description of the heroine's imaginary friend called Mrs Berry.  Annie sees dead people and they are always wearing chocolate brown clothing.  Mrs Berry knits hideous chocolate brown bobble hats and scarves at the kitchen table and grumbles that being dead is very inconvenient because she can't 'bottom out the house'.  She views Annie's mother with disdain because of her housekeeping abilities or, rather lack of them, and the fact that she cleans the bath out with her dirty laundry (This struck a chord with me I can tell you!).

Do not think this book is just a comic book.  It is not.  It continues to be witty and delightfully written, but underneath this surface humour, there is sadness and melancholy.  Being able to see the dead is a burden to Annie as they are always clamouring for messages to be passed to those left behind.  She has very little peace. 

Annie falls in love and marries, but then Evan, her husband, disappears.  Where has he gone?  He does not visit her wearing chocolate brown so she knows he is alive. Annie's journey to finding happiness and coming to terms with her gift makes such good reading that it is very difficult to put this book down.  When she, and we, learn what has happened to her husband and why he vanished, we are shocked to the core.   In the end she finds a quiet joy and we are happy with her.  My only complaint about this book was that I wish it had been longer. I would love to have learned more about Annie.

The Extra Large Medium was selected out of 3,741 entries to be the first novel published by Long Barn Books( www.longbarnbooks.com)  a publishing company set up by the author Susan Hill.  I am looking forward very much to reading Helen Slavin's second novel and hope we don't have to wait too long.

Another reason for my purchase of this book was the blurb on the front page about the author which ended with the sentence 'she is not very good at being serious'.  Well, how can you resist that?