I was surprised to discover a book by Kate Atkinson that I hadn’t heard of before and promptly ordered it from Amazon. When it arrived I realised why I hadn’t heard of it, it’s a play. I had no idea Atkinson wrote plays, but since I rather enjoy reading playscripts it did not put me off (rather the opposite). Abandonment is an interesting little tale and can be recommended.
Nickle and Dimed: Undercover in Low-Wage America
Nickel and Dimed is chilling reading. Ehrenreich – as the title says – goes undercover and tries to find out how people survive in low-wage America. The answer is «barely». How so many people can live in such conditions beats belief, but on the other hand you see how staying alive would be so all-consuming that there is no time, and certainly no energy, left for even considering how to change the situation.
44 Scotland Street
44 Scotland Street is an odd book, due to its origin as a daily serialized newspaper novel, a form of writing which was all but dead until McCall Smith revived it. However, it reads very well in bound form, too, and paints a vivid, if not altogether pretty, picture of life in an Edinburgh block of flats. I, for one, am looking foreward to the next installment.
The Big Over Easy
Yet again I almost missed the new Jasper Fforde because nobody told me it was out. Well, no matter, a quick nip into town to get my hands on The Big Over Easy and a few happy hours reading and ah… Brilliant as usual, Fforde has a new hero this time, called Jack Spratt, head of the Nursery Crime Divison at Reading. Which is all good, both Spratt and his new partner Mary Mary (who isn’t so contrary as you might have expected, though she’s having a hard time ditching a guy called Arnold) are both interesting and I’m already looking forward to their next appearance. I just hope Fforde hasn’t gived up on Thursday Next entirely, as I’d at least like to se her get her husband back, but I am not going to moan, I realise authors need variety and if we all clamour too much for our favorites return they may end up doing drastic things, like killing them off (it been done several times in the past, you know). And as long as Ffforde keeps on turning out excellent stuff like this, I can’t see any real reason for complaint. Oh, and if you wondered: Yes, the literary references are flying thick and hard in this one, too, though I find I may need to brush up on the nursery literature, it’s been a while.
Case Histories
Yay! New Atkinson novel!
Case Histories is a kind of crime novel. At least there is a private investigator and a few mysteries needing to be solved. That makes it a crime novel, right? As usual, Atkinson is hard to classify (this is one of the reasons I like her work), and as usual it’s difficult to put the book down (and difficult to adjust to «reality» when you do).
Raw Spirit
A book about whisky which is also a travel-book on Scotland? Ok, count me in!
Iain Banks’ Raw Spirit is a delight of a book, actually. LOL-funny in places and thought-provoking in others (and what more can you ask). I may not agree with all Banks’ opinions in «the search for the perfect dram» (you’d be unlikely to find me waxing lyrical about a whisky which is bottled at a measly 40% abv. – I resent having to settle for a strength that’s dictated more by economics than taste, and I’d rather pay the extra dosh to be given the choice, but some destilleries won’t let me have that chance*), but that’s to be expected, the whole point of single malt whisky is it’s diverseness and the unlikelihood that you may never find another person who shares your preferences down to the last single barrel.
Mr. Midshipman Bolitho – Alexander Kent
In search of another Patrick O’Brian (ha!) I bought two «Bolitho-novels» in Hay to test Alexander Kent: Mr. Midshipman Bolitho and Midshipman Bolitho and the «Avenger». They are both now in a bookshelf at The Cricketers in Clavering. Not THAT good, in other words. Entertaining, sure, and I might read a few more, but only if – against all expectations – the local library has them, or if I can pick them up at around a pound second hand.
Paying Guests
Another Copenhagen find, Paying Guests by E.F.Benson does exactly what it says on the cover, which is always a Good Thing, I think. To quote what it says on the cover, so that you will have an idea what it does:
Bolton Spa is infamous for two things: the nauseating quality of its brine and the parsimony of its boarding houses. Exceptional is the Wentworth. Every summer this luxurious establishment is full of paying guests come to sample their waters, the constant hot meals, the happy family atmosphere. (…) Their triumphs, unforgettably and hilariously recorded here, will be relished throughout the land for years to come.
It also says «ranking with the very best of P.G. Wodehouse», which is just a tad exaggerated, at least I never found this Benson novel Laugh-Out-Loud funny, which Wodehouse is – frequently – but its still fundamentally humorous, and hence fundamentally human. For as Mr. Bennet, the wise man, said: «What do we live for, but to make sport for our neighbours and laugh at them in our turn?»
The Secret Life of Bees – Sue Monk Kidd
I was in the mood for a good story, hence I picked up The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd, and I was not disappointed. Lily Owens is a white, motherless child in the american south during the period of the civil rights movement. She runs away from an embittered and violent father and brings her black housekeeper – on the run from the law – with her when she goes in search of her mother’s story. They find sanctuary with three black sisters who keep bees, and Lily slowly comes to terms with life, death and her less than ideal relationship with her mother. It’s the sort of book that should have a «kleenex needed» warning sticker on the front, but it is also a very uplifting tale.
For Her Own Good – Two Centuries of the Experts’ Advice to Women
I’ve been reading For Her Own Good on and off for a couple of months. Ehrenreich and English demonstrate how the (mostly) male «intellectuals» appropriated the right to make statements about female health – biological and psychological – which up until the 19th century had been the sole property of female healers, midwives and the network of mothers, grandmothers and aunts that any woman used to be surrounded by. It’s a pretty interesting piece of social history and an enlightening read, especially if you’re a woman, but I bet men would learn a bit about the «authority» of the self-styled/so-called experts, too.