I was incredibly excited when Sophie asked me if I would like to read and review the novel ahead of its September released. I absolutely loved her debut, Hideous Creatures, available here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hideous-Creatures-S-E-Lister/dp/1910400041/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441213743&sr=8-1&keywords=hideous+creatures
So, The Immortals. The protagonist, Rosa Hyde, is the daughter of a time-traveller - she and her family are stuck in 1945, forced to relive that year over and over again. As she grows older, she longs for something more, even if it means breaking away from her family.
Eventually, she manages to do just that and her first taste of a new time takes place in our very own. Equally fascinated and terrified, she spends a great deal of time in London before slipping away to a previous century. Here she meets Tommy Rust, a veteran of time travel, who shows her the ropes. They slip in between decades and centuries, sometimes together, sometimes separately. Their journeys are vast and breathtaking, but eventually they take their toll, no matter what Tommy thinks, certain of their immortality.
The premise of the story is bold and ambitious, and it does not fall short of the mark. The journeys Rosa and her fellow time travellers undertake are as complex and rich as the characters themselves. One minute, you're in a feasting hall watching Rosa teaching her hosts about the wonders of the future, and next you're at the beginning of the world, freezing and desolate, thinking about life and what it all means.
There are so many layers to this story that S. E. Lister weaves in so effortlessly it's almost unfair. The yearning to belong somewhere, with someone, while wrestling to be free. The fun and fanfare of fabulous riches and adoration while you wonder if there is more to life. The difficulty of facing your own mortality. In Rosa and Tommy's case, this becomes far more painful when they've lived their life on a plane far different from others'.
The novel is awash with beautiful descriptions and strong settings of place, so even when it's time to move on to the next destination the reader has a keen sense of what has been left behind, sometimes mourning for it like Rosa does. I had no idea how a novel like this could possibly end, but Lister handles it brilliantly. It's a fitting close for a story that dared to do and show so much.
Wednesday, 2 September 2015
Review: Godiva, Nerys Jones
Britain, 1045. A mere 21 years before the Normans storm the UK, and Britain is a hotbed of conspiracy and ambition. Godiva and her husband, Earl Lovric of Mercia, are drawn against their will into the games of King Edward the Confessor and must fight for their family and their lands.
The novel opens with a murky, almost despairing description of Coventry and the daily toils its inhabitants face. As if using a bird's eye view the reader is taken to the manor at Cheylesmore, the dwelling of Godiva and her husband, Lovric, whom has just returned home. His news for Godiva includes relating that their sons are in danger, and that King Edward the Confessor has demanded her presence in Winchester. Their journeys back and forth test loyalties, bring up conspiracies, question their very faith, and above all measure their ability to play the game that they have unwittingly been placed into by their King.
Godiva is a brilliantly crafted character in this book. Not only ruled by passion for her family, she channels that into being the leader that her town really needs her to be. She is plagued with anxiety at the thought of being a pawn in Edward's game, and is constantly second-guessing herself, but she keeps up business for her people, putting them first in a way that many as rich as her would not. Her husband, Lovric, is similarly complex. He is a warrior, but he knows that cannot always be the first course of action. A man of many secrets, he loves clearly loves Godiva and is unlike most men of the time in that he lets Godiva seemingly be the leader in Coventry.
Edward the Confessor was the most interesting character for me. Since he is usually little more than an acknowledgement in the story of the Norman Conquest, it was surprising and fascinating to see how the author had fleshed him out. He is not simply a pious man as History titled him. In fact, it was difficult to know whether he was pious at all, or whether it was just all a veil.
Where characterisation soars, however, the use of language sometimes seems quite clunky. Adverbs are strewn all over the place, and quite often there is the dreaded use of "telling, not showing", which didn't seem consistent with the otherwise sophisticated and clever narrative.
Overall, however, this book was an interesting and enjoyable read. There doesn't seem to be much historical fiction about the Middle Ages, so this retelling of a myth that has endured for nearly a thousand years, in a way that is compelling and invites the reader to discover the truth, was a very welcome discovery.
Thursday, 27 August 2015
Review: Station Eleven, Emily St. John Mandel
A post-apocalyptic world with a difference.
This isn't about kids fighting each other to the death at the mercy of the small, powerful elite, nor is it about challenging in the system while hiding within it.
This novel begs the timeless question about what it means to be human.
Arthur Leander, an ageing Hollywood actor, dies on stage while performing King Lear. That same night, a virus arrives in Toronto and, within a few weeks, 99% of the world's population have died. The story is constructed through flashbacks and present day, following the lives of a few different characters, whom are connected in fragile ways, but nonetheless their stories are in part bound up with each other.
There is the Travelling Symphony, consisting of musicians and actors, who travel from place to place to perform for free. While it might not seem much of a priority to keep up a culture from a world now dead while there are more important concerns - namely food, water and shelter - their reasons for doing so are summed up in a Star Trek quote: "Survival is insufficient." This group is the main focus of the present day storyline, where time is now measured in years that begin from the outbreak of the virus - e.g. 20th October Year 1. They come to a settlement which they have visited before, except now it is run by a man whom only refers to himself as the Prophet, convinced that they have been saved for some higher purpose.
The flashbacks follow the story of the actor, Arthur, whom works his way steadily from small-island boy to blockbuster Hollywood hero, and in large part his first wife, Miranda, who spends years working on her own comic book series, Station Eleven, after which the novel is named.
At first it seemed strange why so much of the novel tells the story of Arthur, and the world before by extension, but when a huge focus of the novel is on what it means to be human, and what it means to live rather than just survive, it's a harrowing and moving component. The difficulties and trials of the before and after are physically different but they still face the deep questions that humanity have sought for thousands of years to answer.
The writing is beautiful, mournful, even lyrical. It is philosophical without being pretentious, and the cast of complex characters drive the plot extremely well. You are caught up in their journeys, you mourn with them and understand - at least with the older characters - their wistfulness and grief for their former world. There isn't so much a longing to be back in the data driven world, with technology at your fingertips, so much as a trying to understand the senselessness of the situation they find themselves in. There is also the need to deal with how very small and helpless they are and were in the face of so great and deadly a virus that was impossible to survive.
When I was reading the inside jacket before starting the story, I was struck by what Jessie Burton (author of The Miniaturist) said, that it left her 'wistful for a world where I still live'. That was true of my experience reading the book. I would look around the living room where I was reading, or out the window, and feel profound relief at my safe surroundings while not quite believing it was real. The novel reached that level of immersion.
Read it. It's an extraordinary story.
This isn't about kids fighting each other to the death at the mercy of the small, powerful elite, nor is it about challenging in the system while hiding within it.
This novel begs the timeless question about what it means to be human.
Arthur Leander, an ageing Hollywood actor, dies on stage while performing King Lear. That same night, a virus arrives in Toronto and, within a few weeks, 99% of the world's population have died. The story is constructed through flashbacks and present day, following the lives of a few different characters, whom are connected in fragile ways, but nonetheless their stories are in part bound up with each other.
There is the Travelling Symphony, consisting of musicians and actors, who travel from place to place to perform for free. While it might not seem much of a priority to keep up a culture from a world now dead while there are more important concerns - namely food, water and shelter - their reasons for doing so are summed up in a Star Trek quote: "Survival is insufficient." This group is the main focus of the present day storyline, where time is now measured in years that begin from the outbreak of the virus - e.g. 20th October Year 1. They come to a settlement which they have visited before, except now it is run by a man whom only refers to himself as the Prophet, convinced that they have been saved for some higher purpose.
The flashbacks follow the story of the actor, Arthur, whom works his way steadily from small-island boy to blockbuster Hollywood hero, and in large part his first wife, Miranda, who spends years working on her own comic book series, Station Eleven, after which the novel is named.
At first it seemed strange why so much of the novel tells the story of Arthur, and the world before by extension, but when a huge focus of the novel is on what it means to be human, and what it means to live rather than just survive, it's a harrowing and moving component. The difficulties and trials of the before and after are physically different but they still face the deep questions that humanity have sought for thousands of years to answer.
The writing is beautiful, mournful, even lyrical. It is philosophical without being pretentious, and the cast of complex characters drive the plot extremely well. You are caught up in their journeys, you mourn with them and understand - at least with the older characters - their wistfulness and grief for their former world. There isn't so much a longing to be back in the data driven world, with technology at your fingertips, so much as a trying to understand the senselessness of the situation they find themselves in. There is also the need to deal with how very small and helpless they are and were in the face of so great and deadly a virus that was impossible to survive.
When I was reading the inside jacket before starting the story, I was struck by what Jessie Burton (author of The Miniaturist) said, that it left her 'wistful for a world where I still live'. That was true of my experience reading the book. I would look around the living room where I was reading, or out the window, and feel profound relief at my safe surroundings while not quite believing it was real. The novel reached that level of immersion.
Read it. It's an extraordinary story.
Sunday, 23 August 2015
Review: Rarity from the Hollow, Robert Eggleton
Note: I received an ebook copy of this book in exchange for a review.
Blurb from author:
"Lacy Dawn is a true daughter of Appalachia, and then some. She lives in a hollow with her worn-out mom, her Iraq War disabled dad, and her mutt Brownie, a dog who's very skilled at laying fiber optic cable. Lacy Dawn's android boyfriend has come to the hollow with a mission. His equipment includes infomercial videos of Earth's earliest proto-humans from millennia ago. He was sent by the Manager of the Mall on planet Shptiludrp (Shop 'till You Drop): he must recruit Lacy Dawn to save the Universe in exchange for the designation of Earth as a planet which is eligible for continued existence within a universal economic structure that exploits underdeveloped planets for their mineral content. Lacy Dawn’s magic enables her to save the universe, Earth, and, most importantly, her own family."
Rarity from the Hollow is unlike any book I have come across before. If one were to put it into a genre it would probably be classed as Science Fiction but that is too simple. There is a lot of social commentary in the book, provided through the way Lacy Dawn's family live. Her father is a veteran with PTSD and her mother is (at first) submissive, walking on eggshells because of her husband's condition, careful not to provoke his rages, and does not have enough social capacity to mother her daughter like she needs to. Consequently, Lacy Dawn is much more complex - and more messed up - than others of her age. Thanks to the 'plug in' sessions with her android boyfriend, who seems to want to download all of human knowledge into her brain, she acts as kind of a psychotherapist to the kids at school, all of whom seem far too aware for their age what is wrong with them and why. One of her best friends we soon find out to be a ghost, and Lacy Dawn regularly talks with the trees near her house who try to help her navigate this tricky stage of life. All Lacy Dawn wants to do is to save her family and make it into sixth grade.
That's just the stuff on earth. When DotCom (the android boyfriend) takes Lacy Dawn and her father to Shptiludrp, they find out that part of Lacy Dawn's mission to save the universe involves a huge amount of shopping, by taking things to sell on earth, in order to save earth from exploitation of its minerals and other precious resources. Lacy Dawn gets into tough negotiations with the Manager of the Mall on Shptiludrp, in order to protect earth, before finding out the real danger to Earth, and consequently, the universe (spoiler alert....................a mammoth infestation of roaches).
This book won't be for everyone. It certainly isn't easy reading, but it is very interesting, and a lot of what happens that seems pretty painful and messed up is authentic and tugs on the heartstrings, its authenticity no doubt due to the author's social work background. Eggleton certainly has a flair for the complex and weaving in many issues without a plot overload. It works because he gets the characters right.
In summary, if you're up for a challenging read, and are prepared to face some hard questions and - maybe like me - tough it out through some bits, then give it a try. It'll certainly be like nothing you've tried before.
Author info:
Blurb from author:
"Lacy Dawn is a true daughter of Appalachia, and then some. She lives in a hollow with her worn-out mom, her Iraq War disabled dad, and her mutt Brownie, a dog who's very skilled at laying fiber optic cable. Lacy Dawn's android boyfriend has come to the hollow with a mission. His equipment includes infomercial videos of Earth's earliest proto-humans from millennia ago. He was sent by the Manager of the Mall on planet Shptiludrp (Shop 'till You Drop): he must recruit Lacy Dawn to save the Universe in exchange for the designation of Earth as a planet which is eligible for continued existence within a universal economic structure that exploits underdeveloped planets for their mineral content. Lacy Dawn’s magic enables her to save the universe, Earth, and, most importantly, her own family."
Rarity from the Hollow is unlike any book I have come across before. If one were to put it into a genre it would probably be classed as Science Fiction but that is too simple. There is a lot of social commentary in the book, provided through the way Lacy Dawn's family live. Her father is a veteran with PTSD and her mother is (at first) submissive, walking on eggshells because of her husband's condition, careful not to provoke his rages, and does not have enough social capacity to mother her daughter like she needs to. Consequently, Lacy Dawn is much more complex - and more messed up - than others of her age. Thanks to the 'plug in' sessions with her android boyfriend, who seems to want to download all of human knowledge into her brain, she acts as kind of a psychotherapist to the kids at school, all of whom seem far too aware for their age what is wrong with them and why. One of her best friends we soon find out to be a ghost, and Lacy Dawn regularly talks with the trees near her house who try to help her navigate this tricky stage of life. All Lacy Dawn wants to do is to save her family and make it into sixth grade.
That's just the stuff on earth. When DotCom (the android boyfriend) takes Lacy Dawn and her father to Shptiludrp, they find out that part of Lacy Dawn's mission to save the universe involves a huge amount of shopping, by taking things to sell on earth, in order to save earth from exploitation of its minerals and other precious resources. Lacy Dawn gets into tough negotiations with the Manager of the Mall on Shptiludrp, in order to protect earth, before finding out the real danger to Earth, and consequently, the universe (spoiler alert....................a mammoth infestation of roaches).
This book won't be for everyone. It certainly isn't easy reading, but it is very interesting, and a lot of what happens that seems pretty painful and messed up is authentic and tugs on the heartstrings, its authenticity no doubt due to the author's social work background. Eggleton certainly has a flair for the complex and weaving in many issues without a plot overload. It works because he gets the characters right.
In summary, if you're up for a challenging read, and are prepared to face some hard questions and - maybe like me - tough it out through some bits, then give it a try. It'll certainly be like nothing you've tried before.
Author info:
Public Author Contacts:
Monday, 10 August 2015
Review: The Queen of the Tearling, Erika Johansen
Shortly after her nineteenth birthday Kelsea Raleigh Glynn waits on her doorstep for a troop of Queen's Guard from the Royal Keep. They have come to bring her back to the city and claim the throne. The journey, however, is fraught with danger. Her uncle, the Regent, has placed a bounty on her head and sent the Caden, infamous and skilled assassins, to kill her before she has chance to claim her birthright.
The Tearling was founded as a socialist Utopia but quickly fell into a feudal-style class system, complete with a thriving Black Market and a slave trade - a shipment of slaves is sent every month to the neighbouring Mortmesne, presided over by the Red Queen. Kelsea decides to put an end to this as soon as she arrives at the Keep, pleasing the masses but angering the few yet decidedly powerful, particularly Arlen Thorne, the head of the Census. Meanwhile, the Red Queen tries to keep a watchful eye over the goings on in the Tearling but is unable to see Kelsea herself, much to her chagrin and (though she wouldn't admit it) growing fear.
This is a brilliant fantasy read with a Dystopian undercurrent, with a host of interesting and absorbing characters. Kelsea is a fantastic heroine. She does not shy away from danger, meets the threats to her life head on, and has an acute sense of social justice. Her nemesis, the Red Queen, is alluring but dark and ruthless, her mystery enhanced by the fact that we do not know her name or much of her background apart from that she carried out a coup to become Queen of Mortmesne and quickly conquered the neighbouring lands. The Captain of Kelsea's guard, Lazarus, is fierce, perceptive, smart and unflinchingly loyal. And Carlin and Barty, Kelsea's foster parents, though not seen much on the page are shown to be extremely brave, clever, wise and insightful.
The main moral dilemmas in the story manifest in a man called Javel, a gate guard, whose wife was taken in the shipment some years previously, and who has to decide whether he will do business with Thorne to get his wife back despite knowing that there will be a heavy price to pay in terms of humanity.
All at once this novel is an adventurous fantasy, social commentary, a challenge to belief systems, examinations of different forms of evil, and uncomfortable moral questioning. It's a story that absorbs you and forces you to think deeply about the questions it poses. It is well-paced and structured, with viewpoints of different characters showing the reader the different parts of the Tearling and Mortmesne. Through the different character perspectives we see a range of motivations, fears and hopes of those who live in the Tearling. It's a highly accomplished debut that promises future literary gold from Johansen. The Queen of the Tearling and its sequels certainly promise to be an obsession, and probably one of the best trilogies of recent times.
The Tearling was founded as a socialist Utopia but quickly fell into a feudal-style class system, complete with a thriving Black Market and a slave trade - a shipment of slaves is sent every month to the neighbouring Mortmesne, presided over by the Red Queen. Kelsea decides to put an end to this as soon as she arrives at the Keep, pleasing the masses but angering the few yet decidedly powerful, particularly Arlen Thorne, the head of the Census. Meanwhile, the Red Queen tries to keep a watchful eye over the goings on in the Tearling but is unable to see Kelsea herself, much to her chagrin and (though she wouldn't admit it) growing fear.
This is a brilliant fantasy read with a Dystopian undercurrent, with a host of interesting and absorbing characters. Kelsea is a fantastic heroine. She does not shy away from danger, meets the threats to her life head on, and has an acute sense of social justice. Her nemesis, the Red Queen, is alluring but dark and ruthless, her mystery enhanced by the fact that we do not know her name or much of her background apart from that she carried out a coup to become Queen of Mortmesne and quickly conquered the neighbouring lands. The Captain of Kelsea's guard, Lazarus, is fierce, perceptive, smart and unflinchingly loyal. And Carlin and Barty, Kelsea's foster parents, though not seen much on the page are shown to be extremely brave, clever, wise and insightful.
The main moral dilemmas in the story manifest in a man called Javel, a gate guard, whose wife was taken in the shipment some years previously, and who has to decide whether he will do business with Thorne to get his wife back despite knowing that there will be a heavy price to pay in terms of humanity.
All at once this novel is an adventurous fantasy, social commentary, a challenge to belief systems, examinations of different forms of evil, and uncomfortable moral questioning. It's a story that absorbs you and forces you to think deeply about the questions it poses. It is well-paced and structured, with viewpoints of different characters showing the reader the different parts of the Tearling and Mortmesne. Through the different character perspectives we see a range of motivations, fears and hopes of those who live in the Tearling. It's a highly accomplished debut that promises future literary gold from Johansen. The Queen of the Tearling and its sequels certainly promise to be an obsession, and probably one of the best trilogies of recent times.
Wednesday, 29 July 2015
Review: Elizabeth is Missing, Emma Healey
We all know the feeling of going into a room and forgetting why we've gone in there. Sometimes I ask someone a question and they answer, but I've forgotten the question I asked in the first place so the answer makes no sense. And I'm sure most of us have left the hob gas on without meaning to, or boiled the kettle only to remember it thirty minutes later so we boil it again.
Thankfully, for most of us, these experiences are sporadic. Not for Maud, however, our protagonist. At about eighty years old, she is living this, hour by hour. The only things that keep her anchored are the notes that she keeps in her pockets, but even some of them confuse her because they may be old and irrelevant. Except for one. Her friend Elizabeth is missing, and despite what anyone tells her she is convinced of that fact and will do anything to find out the truth, no matter how frustrated she makes her carers and daughter, Helen. The trouble is, any time she tries to do something to solve this mystery, she forgets what she's doing as she's doing it, or doesn't remember that she has done something already. This storyline runs parallel to another mystery, this one much older - that of her sister, Sukey, and her mysterious disappearance after the end of the Second World War.
Part mystery, part crime, part thriller, "Elizabeth is Missing" is a confident, dramatic, moving debut from Emma Healey. Wandering through life with Maud is a bit like trying to see everything through frosted glass - you can almost make it out but the uncertainty leaves you with nothing but frustration. It's a sad, haunting portrait of someone living with Dementia, and the worry and stubbornness this can bring, portrayed so well through Maud. Simultaneously scared of being a burden, and cross at being treated like an imbecile, the sheer energy is takes to make it through a day living with this condition is vividly shown. It is structured interestingly, with small details of the older Maud's life evoking old memories, which tell the story of her missing sister, Sukey. Sometimes the memories overlap, so Maud can be talking to an old character in her present.
Eventually the reader comes to know that the real question of the novel is not what happened to Elizabeth, but something altogether darker and more tragic. The ending of the novel gives a good sense of closure while leaving the reader in no doubt of what Maud still has to contend with as life goes on.
"Elizabeth is Missing" is the kind of story that can keep you reading on into the early hours of the morning, and it's astonishing to think that this is the author's first novel. Very highly recommended.
Thankfully, for most of us, these experiences are sporadic. Not for Maud, however, our protagonist. At about eighty years old, she is living this, hour by hour. The only things that keep her anchored are the notes that she keeps in her pockets, but even some of them confuse her because they may be old and irrelevant. Except for one. Her friend Elizabeth is missing, and despite what anyone tells her she is convinced of that fact and will do anything to find out the truth, no matter how frustrated she makes her carers and daughter, Helen. The trouble is, any time she tries to do something to solve this mystery, she forgets what she's doing as she's doing it, or doesn't remember that she has done something already. This storyline runs parallel to another mystery, this one much older - that of her sister, Sukey, and her mysterious disappearance after the end of the Second World War.
Part mystery, part crime, part thriller, "Elizabeth is Missing" is a confident, dramatic, moving debut from Emma Healey. Wandering through life with Maud is a bit like trying to see everything through frosted glass - you can almost make it out but the uncertainty leaves you with nothing but frustration. It's a sad, haunting portrait of someone living with Dementia, and the worry and stubbornness this can bring, portrayed so well through Maud. Simultaneously scared of being a burden, and cross at being treated like an imbecile, the sheer energy is takes to make it through a day living with this condition is vividly shown. It is structured interestingly, with small details of the older Maud's life evoking old memories, which tell the story of her missing sister, Sukey. Sometimes the memories overlap, so Maud can be talking to an old character in her present.
Eventually the reader comes to know that the real question of the novel is not what happened to Elizabeth, but something altogether darker and more tragic. The ending of the novel gives a good sense of closure while leaving the reader in no doubt of what Maud still has to contend with as life goes on.
"Elizabeth is Missing" is the kind of story that can keep you reading on into the early hours of the morning, and it's astonishing to think that this is the author's first novel. Very highly recommended.
Sunday, 26 July 2015
Review: The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, Rachel Joyce
I'd seen this on the shelves of Waterstones, and had even bought it for a friend, but it took a while before I picked it up myself. While searching for holiday reads, though, it seemed to be a good candidate.
Harold Fry lives with his wife in Kingsbridge, almost as South as one can get in England. A recent retiree, his days seem to consist of quiet, routine boredom - until, one day, he receives a letter from an old friend, Queenie Hennessy. The letter tells him that Queenie has cancer, which he has no idea how to bear. He spends a long time trying to write a reply, but in the end words fail him and he writes a rather lame apology for her situation. He takes it to the postbox, but knows that once he posts it through, he has to return home. He walks a bit further to the next postbox, to the post office itself, to the post box beyond. It isn't until he has an unlikely conversation with a girl who works in a garage that his brainwave happens upon him, and it is with some glee that he decides to walk to Berwick-upon-Tweed - approximately five hundred miles from home. By doing this, he believes he can help save Queenie's life.
There are plenty of moments for Harold to doubt himself, particularly in the beginning when he is trying to explain to people what he is trying to do. To his surprise, however, most people are rather taken with the idea and offer encouragement and support. He wishes his wife, Maureen, could do the same. Their marriage has been one of coldness and silence for the past twenty years and he knows what she would say to such a quest like this, but he is desperate for her to understand.
It is very apparent that Harold is not walking to Queenie because he is in love with her. She really is just an old friend, but one whom he feels he has let down and this walk is some kind of atonement. During the walk we meet characters whom act almost as beacons for Harold, from the first woman to offer him water and a sandwich, to a doctor from Eastern Europe whom can only find work as a cleaner in England. The walk also becomes more than trying to save Queenie - Harold is trying to find himself, and figure out who he actually is. Through flashbacks and memories the pieces of Harold's character are filled in, which paint him rather tragically to some degree, but with the effect that you cannot help but cheer him on. Haunted by his mother's abandonment, his father's neglect and his own failings as a father, he is desperate to atone for all his perceived sins and come to some place of peace in one area he believes he can make amends in.
Joyce employs description to great effect in this novel, and the reader feels transported to walking alongside Harold, drinking in the same scenery that he is. She paints the cities through which Harold passes as almost fatal distractions to Harold's walk, scary places that threaten his journey through otherwise simple and peaceful countryside. Each chapter is structured as a new piece in a patchwork quilt, both completing the map of Harold's walk and filling in information about himself. Her characterisation of primary and secondary characters is polished - there is no one in this novel who ought not to be there for the sake of the story.
Not only are we invited into Harold's story, but Maureen's, too, and discover the reasons for the breakdown in their marriage. She wishes she could be there but is held back by fear and the pattern of the past twenty years. She looks at who they once were and wonders whether they can ever be there again. The longer Harold is away, the more she is forced to look inwards, and decide whether to go along on this process that may eventually bring healing, or ignore what is happening and continue on as before.
Beginning at deceptively light and airy, this novel progresses towards the deep, profound, and even points of grieving. It is a gorgeous read that is both moving and entertaining, funny and tragic. Above all, it shows that it is never too late.
Harold Fry lives with his wife in Kingsbridge, almost as South as one can get in England. A recent retiree, his days seem to consist of quiet, routine boredom - until, one day, he receives a letter from an old friend, Queenie Hennessy. The letter tells him that Queenie has cancer, which he has no idea how to bear. He spends a long time trying to write a reply, but in the end words fail him and he writes a rather lame apology for her situation. He takes it to the postbox, but knows that once he posts it through, he has to return home. He walks a bit further to the next postbox, to the post office itself, to the post box beyond. It isn't until he has an unlikely conversation with a girl who works in a garage that his brainwave happens upon him, and it is with some glee that he decides to walk to Berwick-upon-Tweed - approximately five hundred miles from home. By doing this, he believes he can help save Queenie's life.
There are plenty of moments for Harold to doubt himself, particularly in the beginning when he is trying to explain to people what he is trying to do. To his surprise, however, most people are rather taken with the idea and offer encouragement and support. He wishes his wife, Maureen, could do the same. Their marriage has been one of coldness and silence for the past twenty years and he knows what she would say to such a quest like this, but he is desperate for her to understand.
It is very apparent that Harold is not walking to Queenie because he is in love with her. She really is just an old friend, but one whom he feels he has let down and this walk is some kind of atonement. During the walk we meet characters whom act almost as beacons for Harold, from the first woman to offer him water and a sandwich, to a doctor from Eastern Europe whom can only find work as a cleaner in England. The walk also becomes more than trying to save Queenie - Harold is trying to find himself, and figure out who he actually is. Through flashbacks and memories the pieces of Harold's character are filled in, which paint him rather tragically to some degree, but with the effect that you cannot help but cheer him on. Haunted by his mother's abandonment, his father's neglect and his own failings as a father, he is desperate to atone for all his perceived sins and come to some place of peace in one area he believes he can make amends in.
Joyce employs description to great effect in this novel, and the reader feels transported to walking alongside Harold, drinking in the same scenery that he is. She paints the cities through which Harold passes as almost fatal distractions to Harold's walk, scary places that threaten his journey through otherwise simple and peaceful countryside. Each chapter is structured as a new piece in a patchwork quilt, both completing the map of Harold's walk and filling in information about himself. Her characterisation of primary and secondary characters is polished - there is no one in this novel who ought not to be there for the sake of the story.
Not only are we invited into Harold's story, but Maureen's, too, and discover the reasons for the breakdown in their marriage. She wishes she could be there but is held back by fear and the pattern of the past twenty years. She looks at who they once were and wonders whether they can ever be there again. The longer Harold is away, the more she is forced to look inwards, and decide whether to go along on this process that may eventually bring healing, or ignore what is happening and continue on as before.
Beginning at deceptively light and airy, this novel progresses towards the deep, profound, and even points of grieving. It is a gorgeous read that is both moving and entertaining, funny and tragic. Above all, it shows that it is never too late.
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