Tuesday 28 April 2020

Review: The Beekeeper of Aleppo by Christy Lefteri

Many thanks to my friend Abigail, who bought this book for me to enjoy when on adoption leave.

I hope this book marks the start of more stories to come out of Syria. The civil war there has been waging for so long it's easy to forget that there are still millions displaced and suffering, whether in Syria or in refugee camps across the Middle East and Europe. Although this book is a work of fiction, it is based on true stories that the author learned while volunteering at a refugee centre in Athens.

Nuri, a beekeeper, and his artist wife, Afra, had a wonderful life in Aleppo, Syria, until the war started. They held on and on until tragedy and threats to their lives struck, at which point they decided to leave. They want to make it to England, where Mustafa - Nuri's cousin - already is with his family.

The novel starts with Nuri and Afra having made it to England. They are staying in a B&B while waiting for an interview process that will tell them if they have been granted asylum. Nuri is broken while not admitting to it. Afra is blind (the result of a bomb) but still perceives more than she sometimes lets on. They make friends with other asylum seekers in the B&B, including a character called the Moroccan Man (we never learn his name) who becomes somewhat of a rock for Nuri.

Nuri, we discover, is suffering from PTSD. He talks to a ghost of a boy called Mohammed he met in Turkey, but these hallucinations lead him unwittingly into trouble. Whenever he has these hallucinations, we are led into a flashback of Nuri's and Afra's journey out of Syria, which is truly harrowing. Whether it's driving through bombed out cities, mere shells of their beautiful former selves (search up pictures of Syria before the war. It truly was stuning), traversing dangerous seas in smuggling boats, or dealing with the danger and desperation of refugee camps, these parts of the novel puts faces on the suffering of those who have gone through unspeakable tragedy.

These refugees are not just refugees. This is something I tell my students all the time - refugees are people who don't want to leave their countries. They have homes, families, lives there. I try to get them to understand how bad things have to be to make one think that one has to leave their country with pretty much nothing but the clothes on their backs. No one would do that unless they were truly desperate.

I think this novel is essential reading for this time. COVID-19 has obviously put the world on hold but it wasn't so long ago that people with relatively safe and stable existences in European countries were complaining (at best) about refugees wanting to find safety in our country and elsewhere in Europe. I would be surprised to find anyone who isn't moved, challenged, and brought to compassion by this novel.

Wednesday 22 April 2020

Review: The Lost Art of Keeping Secrets by Eva Rice

Reader, I cannot begin to tell you how much I loved this book. I honestly think it's one of the most brilliant books I've ever read.

It was chosen for a lockdown book club that one of my friends started and I'm so glad, as I'd never heard of it, thus never would have had the pleasure of reading it. One Goodreads reader described it as the literary equivalent of eating a big slice of chocolate cake, and I have to agree.

Penelope, the main character, is accosted by a girl called Charlotte at a bus station and carted off to her Aunt's for tea. There, she meets Charlotte's cousin, Harry, who is pining for his ex-girlfriend, who is now engaged to a rich member of the gentry. Penelope willingly gets caught up in this family drama, as she's keen to avoid her own. Penelope, her younger brother Indigo, and her mother live in a huge estate they can no longer afford to maintain. They are all still grieving the death of their father during WW2.

Charlotte offers Penelope a window into high society, which offers enough thrills and fizz to keep Penelope from worrying about her own problems. Charlotte is fun and charming, Harry (who engages Penelope to make his ex jealous in exchange for front row seats of Penelope's favourite artist, Johnnie Ray), is sardonic, cutting but deeply feeling (I could imagine Timothee Chalamet playing him) and Penelope allows herself to get caught up in everything, despite her own feelings for Harry becoming more complex.

WW2 is over, rationing has come to an end, and the new dawn of the happier, more prosperous, and almost YOLO living is the order of the day.

This story is sweet, uplifting, heartbreaking, hopeful, and perfectly escapist. Reading it during lockdown will definitely help with your mood, I promise.

Tuesday 21 April 2020

Review: The Amber Keeper, by Freda Lightfoot

This story is an epic family saga that spans generations and vastly different eras that in reality are just decades apart.

In the 1960s, a young woman called Abbie returns home to the Lake District with her six year old daughter, Aimee. Abbie has left her partner and intends to stay in England. However, the main reason she has returned is a lot more tragic. Her mother has committed suicide and the family blame Abbie for it, having run away with her lover seven years earlier.

Upon beginning to talk to her grandmother Millie, however, Abbie realises there must be far more to the story. She persuades Millie to tell her about her life story, including how Kate (Abbie's mother) came to be adopted by Millie.

Millie has an extraordinary tale to tell. Beginning in service in a great house in England, she is offered a position by a Russian Countess called Olga, to take care of her two children when they return to Russia. Eager for the adventure, Millie immediately accepts. What she doesn't reckon with, however, is the Countess' cruelty, pettiness, and jealousy. Despite this, Millie makes friends and allies enough to still enjoy her life in Russia.

It gets more difficult, though. War breaks out and, as the war drags on, revolution fills the air. The Countess gives birth to an illegitimate child and forces Millie to pass it off as her own. Millie is stuck in a country not her own, in the midst of a revolution, with no way to get home. All seems hopeless until friends bribe the right people to help Millie get home.

This novel is richly imagined and carried off well between the two timelines. Millie is an extraordinary woman, whose experience is based on the story of a real life English governess who spent six years in the service of a Russian aristocrat. There are plot twists aplenty, a dash of romance, family feuds and reconciliations, and endearing characters. I would definitely recommend it as a lockdown read.

Review: Before I Die by Jenny Downham

Fun fact: I found this book abandoned on a train on the way back from London in February. (Remember trains? Remember travelling? That was nice).

It was published 13 years ago, the year I started university, in fact! With plenty of accolades on the back and inside cover I knew I just had to give it a go, despite the not so cheery title or blurb.

It’s about a young woman called Tessa who has leukaemia and knows she’s going to die, but before that happens she wants to accomplish ten things. Her loyal friend, Zoey, helps her with the list.
I didn’t cry at this book, which is surprising for me as it doesn’t take a lot to set me off, but I was deeply affected by it. In movies, books, and media, the image of people with cancer is that they’re heroes, inspirations, always doing stuff like raising money for charity. For the vast majority, though, it’s not like that.

Tessa does not live very well with cancer. She’s angry, selfish, scared, insecure, but also loving and affectionate. In other words, she’s a normal teenager facing a hugely frightening time.
Supported by her long suffering dad, her brother Cal, her neighbour (and eventual lover) Adam, and of course her best friend, Tessa does her best to live when she knows she will die. Jenny Downham has written so brilliantly and faithfully to the teenage experience, being truthful and accurate without slipping into saccharine cliche.

Probably not the best book to read in lockdown, or maybe it is? It certainly readjusted my perspective.

Friday 17 April 2020

Review: The Queen’s Choice by Anne O’Brien

A completely enthralling read about the Duchess of Brittany who became Queen Joanna when she married Henry IV (the father of the famous Henry V who won the Battle of Agincourt). Having won the crown through booting Richard II off the throne, Henry IV spends most of his reign trying to hold on to his own crown. Life in England isn’t what Joanna expected, having ruled alongside her first husband in Brittany and then in her own right as regent. The English view her with suspicion and resentment. She never lets go of, or hides, her intellect and experience. A great lesson in knowing your worth and owning it despite the opposition around you. I’ll definitely read more of Anne O’Brien’s books.

Thursday 16 April 2020

Review: Vagabonds, by Hao Jingfang (English translation by Ken Liu)

Wow, what an epic read this was! And I mean that both in scope and investment of time. It's not a quick read (clocking in at 600 pages for the hardback version) but it's definitely worth the time.

The novel is set in the 23rd Century. One hundred years previously, the people of Mars have declared their independence from the Terrans (Earth) who had set up mankind on Mars. Conflict and separation became hallmarks of the time until one of the founders of the Mars Republic opened up diplomatic channels between the two planets. Five years before the novel begins, a group of teenagers from Mars were sent to Earth, age 13, to act as ambassadors. Upon their return, they are accompanied by a delegation of Terrans to establish further trade and diplomatic ties.

The peace between the two worlds is a fragile one. After viewing each other with suspicion, and even hatred, for a relatively long period of time, something simple could shatter the hard-won peace.

Luoying, the main character, is the granddaughter of the Consul of Mars. However, upon her return she discovers that she was sent in someone else's place. This is the tip of the iceberg, however, in terms of the secrets she discovers in the greater politics of Mars, and even in her own family.

Feeling constantly torn between Mars and Earth, she wonders if she can even have a place of either world, any more, and feel at peace there. Her friends, fellow Mercury Group ambassadors (the group who went to Earth) speak increasingly of revolution as they see the system on Mars being more restrictive than egalitarian.

On a macro level, the two worlds seem to be examinations of extreme capitalism (Earth) and socialism (Mars). The novel concludes that neither system is far from perfect, and despite the pros and cons of both, changes to either system would bring more problems. This seems pessimistic, but it is realistic as well. With Mars having such finite resources, it was understandable how they had to develop the system they did.

Both in breadth and depth, this novel is highly impressive. Hao Jingfang writes about this world on Mars so convincingly one could easily believe it was real, or at least could be a possibility in the future. Despite the length, it doesn't get dull. In fact, each chapter brings a new revelation, a new and interesting understanding of life on Mars and its complex relationship with Earth.

The characters are completely endearing, too. Although Luoying seems passive and indecisive at times, it's understandable given her dilemma between having to choose between the worlds. Throughout the novel, though, she grows into herself, becoming more adventurous, taking risks, and even stopping a potentially fatal insurgence towards the end.

I have to give a shout-out to the translator, Ken Liu, as well. He has done a superb job of translating tricky concepts and lots of technical know-how in the book that I hope the author would be thrilled with. The result is a very moving, thought-provoking and, on many occasions, beautiful read.



Thursday 2 April 2020

Review: Everything is going to be K.O. by Kaiya Stone.

Kaiya Stone has written a brilliantly funny, witty, and moving memoir about her journey through education, culminating in studying Classics at Oxford University, where she was diagnosed with Dyslexia and Dyspraxia. For the whole of her education before this, her neuro-divergence had simply slipped people's notice - even for the few that did notice, because she was 'coping' they didn't pursue it.

Kaiya has seen almost every kind of educational setting - a Montessori school in South Africa; the American school system with enough resources to help get her the 1-1 help she needed; overcrowded primary school classes; and private school. Most of these places told Kaiya the same thing - that she verbally could do very well, but was hopeless on paper. Unfortunately, that's what matters most in many school systems worldwide. Had it not been for Kaiya's tutor at Oxford, her SpLD would have gone unnoticed still, and she would not have been able to fulfil her potential.

Kaiya's experiences really give a much-needed insight into the kind of disabilities we don't always see at school. As a teacher, I know I've been guilty in the past of just assuming that some children will just get on with it, while they may internally be screaming for help. Our education is only fit for a very small group of students. How much potential are we missing out on because of this? I've had my fair share of ranting about why the education system isn't fit for purpose, but that's an opinion from someone who benefited from the system as it is. I am part of a minority, and I'm aware of that. Our system needs a radical overhaul if we want children to thrive and not have school or education be some of the worst memories of their lives.

If we can learn so much from just this one memoir about someone who had to learn to cope in a world that was not built for them, how much more should we be seeking stories and experiences from people who are not neurotypical or able-bodied? We all know the repercussions and legacy of isms and phobias such as racism, sexism, homophobia, etc, but we pay far less attention - to our societal detriment - of ableism (discrimination against disabled people). We need to level the playing field (sometimes literally) and this needs to be done from the bottom up.