Wide Sargasso Sea – Jean Rhys

To start at the end is only sensible, for this is the imagined back story of Antoinette, the mad wife of Mr Rochester in Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre.

Before then she is the attractive stepdaughter of a Mr Mason, with a large dowry designed to get her off his hands.  Edward Rochester takes the bait but soon regrets it as Antoinette comes with a lot of baggage: a Jamaican estate denuded due to the emancipation of the slaves; a handful of house servants, some faithful, some resentful; an absent mother reputed to be crazy; and mixed race relatives that date back to the indiscriminate philandering of her dead father, ‘old’ Cosway’.

The Caribbean climate is oppressive, as is the poisonous social sphere where complexities of race, nationality, class and wealth conspire to confound both characters and the reader.

We know how it ends, and Jane Eyre fans will probably enjoy this spin-off telling how it started.  The general reader less so?

Review of 2018 Reading Year

A good year’s reading saw 30 books read and reviewed with a high proportion (80%) by ‘new to me’ authors.  The standard was variable with a new random element introduced by joining a reading group at the local independent bookshop.  However this diverted resources away from the ‘bookpacking’ reading journey leaving it becalmed somewhere in South America; no matter, onward to Africa in 2019.

Five ‘new to me’ authors, a reading group choice and a familiar favourite all feature in my seven best books of the year, which are as follows. (Full review month in brackets.)

A Visit from the Goon Squad – Jennifer Egan: An eccentric cast of characters pop in and out of a disconnected but entertaining and invigorating narrative. (January)

Sixteen Trees of the Somme – Lars Mytting: Great locations, deeply involved plot, and engaging characters make this a richly satisfying tale of intrigue and self-discovery. (April)

Educated – Tara Westover: Jaw-dropping autobiography of a girl who self-educates herself out of the backwoods of Idaho and her isolationist patriarchal family. (June)

The Trouble with Goats and Sheep – Joanna Cannon: Set in the oppressive heat of the summer of ’76 this multi-layered mystery tale is rich in period detail and has a young main narrator whose simplicity of telling provides great insight. (June)

Transcription – Kate Atkinson: Told over three short periods, decades apart, the deceptively light tone hides dark deeds, violence and betrayals first in WW2 London then post war in the BBC. (November)

The Kind Worth Killing – Peter Swanson: A cleverly plotted and unusually structured thriller that starts with a chance encounter at an airport and ends up in mayhem. (November)

I Let You Go – Clare Mackintosh: Another cleverly plotted and unusually structured thriller, this one starts with a tragedy and ends in a headlong rush to avert another. (December)

Adventures in Capitalism – Toby Litt

Eighteen short stories that articulate some whacky ideas including: living life on the advice of advertising slogans; the perils associated with collecting for charity dressed as a pink fluffy bunny; the embarrassment of an unfortunate sartorial faux-pas; and the difficulties of dealing with a sunflower sprouting on one’s face.

These were the ones that worked best for me, along with the one with the ghost in the (washing) machine.  Others were less memorable, more experimental or I found too ‘arty’.

But that is what you get with a collection of short fiction - a bit of a pick and mix with some to your taste and others, frankly, not.

I Let You Go – Clare Mackintosh

The story starts with a shocking incident and rapidly moves into damage limitation.

In an effort to forget the traumatic event the narrator heads for the hills, and the coast; in other words, the cliffs of South Wales.  There she ekes out a solitary and frugal existence, at least until new possibilities dawn.

Meanwhile DI Ray Stevens and his sidekick DC Kate Evans are throwing resources at the case, without much luck.  Even when the case is officially shelved they continue to work on it out of hours.  And that is not going to ease the marital tension at the Stevens home any.

The two narratives work out side by side, inexorably moving closer.  A breakthrough occurs that seems to crack the case – or does it; DI Stevens has his doubts (that the readers probably share).  A third voice joins the narrative and things get more complicated and much, much darker.

Pace gathers, pages turn, tension ratchets up; and twists twist until they can twist no more.  Then there is a resolution, and satisfaction in a well plotted, assuredly written first book from this ex-policewoman.

Ghostwritten – David Mitchell

Billed as a novel in nine parts, this reads more like nine novellas loosely linked.

The settings move east to west with the sun – Japan, Hong Kong, China, Mongolia, Petersburg, London, the Western Isles of Scotland, and the east coast of the USA.  In each location a different lead character engages the reader in their life, sometimes a single day and at the other extreme, lasting cradle to grave. There is some overlap of characters in the stories, though this is incidental and teasing rather than necessary for plot development.

If there is a common theme it may be the need to escape, physically or mentally, from a situation, or to search for a solution.  If there is an overarching resolution it is left to the reader to fathom.

Nevertheless the assemblage provides interesting reading, skilfully employing a variety of styles to address a variety of modern themes.

The Mirror World of Melody Black – Gavin Extence

Melody Black appears late in the book; the actual narrator is Abby Williams and the reader lives in her skin throughout.  She is bubbly and lively, not to mention quirky as evidenced by her reaction to finding a neighbour dead in the flat next door.  That incident is the catalyst to a rise in her article-writing fortunes, and her mood with it.

But with a bi-polar diagnosis such rises are a risk and Abby goes into a manic phase inevitably followed by a depressive slide.

Extence deals with both sides of the coin with apparent authenticity and the settings – home, therapists, institution and remote retreat are convincingly drawn.  Abby is an engaging and vulnerable character, making her easy for the reader to empathise with and root for.

Oh, and Melody Black turns up eventually with an unfortunate link to Abby’s past and with an interesting theory on why people ‘go nuts’.  Apart from that, the book manages to be both informative on bi-polar disorder and an entertaining read.

I Am Malala – Malala Yousafzai

“The girl who stood up for education and was shot by the Taliban” is not only the sub-title of Malala’s autobiographical account but probably the sum total of what most people know about her.  This book puts that right by providing not only her own background but that of her young country and its brief troubled history.

Though the book starts with a prologue describing the dreadful shooting it quickly shifts into a conventional time line as Malala describes her family and early memories in Swat, a princely state that was absorbed into the newly formed Pakistan making up its northwest frontier with Afghanistan.  As well as her daily life in her home, she describes the political context in a clear and balanced manner (perhaps credit here to the co-writing support of foreign correspondent Christina Lamb).

It is an eye-opening account of life under threat from both the Taliban and the Pakistani military authorities who vie for control of the valley.  Civil government is a fiction in these parts.  Despite that, her father’s passion for education defies the odds by founding, developing and maintaining a school that, whatever the risks, allows girls to attend and learn.

Malala is an ace student and a vocal advocate for her and her gender’s right to education.  Her profile on the country rises, along with her father’s, and both know the dangers that entails but refuse to kowtow.

Events take their course.  The prologue has given away the strike, and the book’s existence testifies to her recovery.  Not just recovery, but triumph; of which this remarkable book, written by a sixteen year old (albeit with support), is part.