Phineas Finn – Anthony Trollope

Young Irishman Phineas Finn went to London to study for the Bar, but having achieved admission his professional progress seems to be sluggish. Not so his social life, based around membership of the Reform Club, where he rubs shoulders with the sons of the aristocracy and young Members of Parliament. One of these, fellow countryman Barrington Erle, suggests he stands for his local constituency of Loughshane in the coming General Election.

To his good fortune Loughshane is a ‘pocket borough’, in this case in the pocket of the Earl of Tulla, an old family friend who has just quarrelled with the sitting member and is only too glad to turf him out and put in Phineas, who thus becomes, at 24 years old, an Irish Member in the Mother of Parliaments.

It is eighteen-sixty-odd and turbulent times in politics with voting reform and ‘the ballot’ the big issue between the Whigs and Tories. But Finn’s induction into the political world is more social than political as he is befriended by the influential Standish family – the earl of Brentford (a Whig grandee), his daughter Lady Laura and son Oswald (aka Lord Chiltern).

He goes hunting with Chiltern and gets closer to Lady Laura, but she is pursued by the landed Mr Kennedy, so he transfers his attention to the Standish’s close friend Violet Effingham, who is half-committed to Oswald, while Phineas himself is eyed up by the rich and mysterious Madame Max Goesler, herself courted by the aged but active Duke of Omnium. And there is the girl back home, Mary Flood Jones, who simply, and perhaps hopelessly, just holds a candle for Phineas.

These are not so much love triangles as interlocking polygons that provide multiple moral dilemmas for Phineas to negotiate; at the same time he has to wrestle with his conscience as his first steps in a government career are threatened by opposition motions he feels honour bound to support.

The book is long but never heavy, and I like Trollope’s style as he takes the reader into his confidence while he speculates on his characters’ motivations and thoughts. It is just a good read with a likeable, but all too human, hero whose interests the reader cannot help taking to heart.

The Descendants – Kaui Hart Hemmings

Matt King is a descendant of one of Hawaii’s oldest landowning families, with a key say on the dissolution of a trust and release of assets (land ripe for development) that would make him and a lot of his cousins richer. But his mind is necessarily on other things.

His wife, Joanie, is in a coma following a power-boat accident. She has lived life to the full, building a successful career, managing the home and bringing up two daughters, while Matt has kept his head down working as an attorney. So with Joanie in hospital, he is pitched out of his comfort zone and into a temporary role as a lone parent.

Except it may not be temporary; prognosis is not good. And while he comes to terms with the possibility of losing his wife, recent doubts on her fidelity emerge from the back of his mind, strengthen and drive him to seek out the potential lover who, he feels, should be given an opportunity to say a fond farewell.

Then there are the kids, the in-laws, and the friends to deal with; but in the emotional turbulence he draws his young daughters closer and discovers strength in them, and himself, previously unknown.

It sounds dour and depressing but the writing (Matt’s narrative throughout) has a light touch and there is much humour (some, but not all, black); and with the dying woman emerging as no saint there is no tendency to weep buckets as she expires.

In the background the question of the land remains. Will Matt’s new-found connection to his next generation make him re-consider the sell-off favoured by his fellow descendants?

The bright and, lush Hawaiian location provides an interesting counterbalance to the tragic circumstances, and the issues raised are addressed without cloying sentiment, making this an original and finely written novel. [Now of course a well-received film with George Clooney in the lead].

Scaredy Cat – Mark Billingham

Two murders committed on the same London night. There are striking similarities – young female victims, targeted at a railway station, and both strangled; but there are significant differences too – the stations far apart, and while one victim was brutally slain the other was despatched almost gently; at one site a chocolate wrapper casually discarded, at the other, tears were shed.

Detective Inspector Tom Thorne is on the case and, in one of his moments of perspicacity, floats the hypothesis – two killers working in tandem, but who and why?

Thorne’s intuitive approach to policing (guesswork and following hunches) predictably upsets his superiors and alienates all but his closest colleagues, and frankly gets him nowhere. All he can do is wait until they kill again and hope this time they make a mistake and get caught.

More deaths and a lucky break lead Thorne into a high risk strategy, higher than he realises as the ensuing game of cat and mouse becomes more personal.

Billingham’s writing is assured and deft as he builds the tension, teasing the reader with snippets of the (still unknown) murderers’ thoughts. Light relief is provided by Thorne’s interplay with his gay pathologist friend, but more dangerous undercurrents are at play between members of his investigating team.

More of a crime thriller than a crime solver – there is precious little detection but plenty of criminal violence – the pages turn well enough and the outcome is eagerly sought, but after reading Sleepyhead last year and now Scaredy Cat I think I have had enough of the grumpy DI Thorne for now.

A Walk in the Woods – Bill Bryson

When Bill Bryson moved back to the USA he found a path on the edge of his New Hampshire town that turned out to be part of the Appalachian Trail that runs from Georgia in the south through thirteen or so states to Maine in the far north.

At 2,100 miles this long distance trek is equivalent to eight Pennine Ways but despite having little hiking experience Bryson is drawn to the challenge and he rashly announces his intention to walk it to friends and family.

Reality dawns as he researches the challenge and enumerates (in one of the funniest couple of paragraphs I’ve ever read) the perils of the wilderness he will be exposed to – roughly categorised under fierce beasts (mammals, reptiles and insects), extreme weather and dangerous vegetation.

Then comes the, equally funny, kitting out stage; and the search for a walking companion that results in the unlikely candidature of the even less prepared Stephen Katz.

Finally they set off from Springer Mountain in Georgia and predictable but laugh out loud incidents come thick and fast – it’s the way he tells it that creases me up. How far they get is less important than what they discover and who they meet on the trail, and how they face up to moments of real danger.

Among the humour are ironic, but serious, points made about the plight of the environment and the American way of life (largely incompatible concepts), but at the end of the day it is the Bryson humour that makes this such an excellent read.