Off to Scotland...

I'm off to Scotland for a long weekend, with William by E.H. Young and Gay Life by E.M. Delafield in tow - hope you've been able to track down one or other of them if you're planning to join in a readalong. Not entirely sure about the schedule for them, but keep an eye out on Darlene's blog for more info about reading William. I have a feeling it might just be Danielle and I who have managed to track down Gay Life...

I anticipate coming back with armfuls of books - see you next week! (Except for a little post which will appear tomorrow...)

Book Aid International / World Book Day

If you live in the UK, I hope it won't have escaped your attention that World Book Day is coming up on March 3rd - and for once the BBC seems, for one, to be taking notice. There are all sorts of bookish programmes coming up - Sebastian Faulks presenting on various aspects of the novel through history; Anne Robinson interviewing people about My Life in Books (I saw one being recorded - it should be a great series) etc. - details about their programmes here.


Even better, though - Book Aid International have got a whole variety of things going on, and they got in touch with me this week. They're suggesting that people engage with Meet, Talk, Give which does what it says on the tin. Why not organise a get-together of like-minded readers, hold a book group, and donate something to Book Aid International. Did you know that £2 will send a new book to a school library, public library, refugee camp, prison or rural community in sub-Saharan Africa? For info on Meet, Talk, Give click here. If you're already in a Book Group, why not turn your next meeting into a Meet, Talk, Give event?

There's more info, as well as videos etc., on their blog. Have fun!

Waiting on Wednesday # 37 - Little Women and Me

"Waiting On" Wednesday is a weekly event, hosted at Breaking The Spine, that spotlights upcoming releases that we're eagerly anticipating.

My pick:

A twist in time gives Emily the power to fix Little Women. Oh, where to begin! Emily is sick and tired of being a middle sister. So when she gets an assignment to describe what she'd change about a classic novel, Emily pounces on Little Women. After all, if she can't change things in her own family, maybe she can bring a little justice to the March sisters. (Kill off Beth? Have cute Laurie wind up with Amy instead of Jo? What was Louisa May Alcott thinking?!) But when Emily gets mysteriously transported into the 1850s world of the book, she discovers that righting fictional wrongs won't be easy. And after being immersed in a time and place so different from her own, it may be Emily—not the four March sisters—who undergoes the most surprising change of all. Lauren Baratz-Logsted's winning confection will appeal to fans of Little Women as well as anyone who enjoys a modern twist on an old favorite.

Lauren Baratz-Logsted

August 16th 2011 by Bloomsbury USA Children's Books

Hardcover, 336 pages

Amazon / The Book Depository

Little Women is one of my favorite classics but I kind of thought the same as Emily..."Kill off Beth? Have cute Laurie wind up with Amy instead of Jo?"

What's Milne is Yours

Happy Wednesday one and all, and to celebrate this momentous occasion (which, lest we forget, happens only a seventh of the time) I've got a couple of books by A.A. Milne to give away. Much as I love to spread Milne's works amongst as many as possible (and he is an author I love dearly, and wish more people read), I'll confess that the pun-derful title to this post was a definite incentive.

The books are Milne's autobiography called It's Too Late Now, and a collection of humorous essays under the title Not That It Matters. Both are duplicates that I felt should pour some sunshine into someone else's life.

It's Too Late Now (1939) is one of my favourite books. To be honest, only a fairly small segment is devoted to his life as an author, and only four pages are given over to Winnie the Pooh et al. Instead, he talks of life during childhood; at university; as a soldier in WW1; as assitant editor of Punch, and so on and so forth. I love Milne's whimsical but perceptive tone wherever I encounter it, but probably no more so than in this brilliant and diverting account.

Not That It Matters (1920) is representative of his humorous, light-hearted work at the beginning of his writing career. The essays are collected from various newspapers and magazines, and cover a miscellany of amusing topics - perfect for dipping into as and when. For a taste (or, if you so wish, to read the whole thing) click here.

I'm happy to send these off anywhere in the world - just put which one you would prefer in the comments (if you'd be happy with either, that's fine too) and I'll do a draw sometime next week.

Review: Truly, Madly by Heather Webber

Title: Truly, Madly

Author: Heather Webber

Series: Lucy Valentine #1

Release Date: February 2nd, 2010

Publisher: St. Martin's

Pages: 305

Lucy hails from a long line of matchmakers known as Valentine INC. According to family legend, the Valentines have been blessed by Cupid with the ability to help couples find true love. Trouble is Lucy’s powers were zapped away by an electrical surge and now all she can find are lost objects.

But what good is that in the matchmaking world?

Lucy is about to find out when she tries to solve a murder and winds up falling into a romance of her own.

Lucy's a young women whose family runs a match-making service. She has to run the family business for a couple of weeks but she isn't sure she can do it. Her family can see auras and that's why their business is so successful. But she doesn't have the same powers.

So what happens when she uses her powers to help her first client and sees a dead body? And what about those new visions when she touches sexy Sean's hand?

I really liked this book. It was full of humor, and Lucy is a great independent protagonists. Truly, Madly isn't exactly a cozy mystery, but there is lots of mystery. The paranormal aspects are little but interesting, and there is some romance that I'm hoping to be continued in the next book of the series...

Overall, it was a great and fun read and I'd recommend it for everyone who likes a a chick lit mystery with some romance.

More about this book at www.heatherwebber.com, Goodreads, Amazon, The Book Depository.

From the mouths of babes...

My book group met tonight to discuss Bonjour Tristesse (1954) by Francoise Sagan (as usual, imagine the cedilla), translated from French by Irene Ash. I hadn't heard of it, or the author (whom I'd wrongly assumed was a man) and so I went away to the internet to find a copy... and when the images came on the screen, I realised that I already owned it. Bonjour Tristesse was one of the 20 short books collected in my Penguin Great Loves boxset - hurrah! Each one comes with its own tagline 'Love can be ----' on the back; this one has 'Love can be complicated'.


Sagan (not her real name, but we'll roll with it) was only 18 when Bonjour Tristesse was published, which is rather sickening for those of us who are only just coming to terms with the fact that we won't ever be infant prodigies. It concerns 17 year old Cecile (imagine the accent) and I must confess my heart sank at this point. I had a horror of it being a female version of The Catcher in the Rye, a novel I thought hugely irritating and very overrated. If I had to sit through the meanderings of a lovesick, self-indulgent teenage girl... well... I'll read the first paragraph, anyway:

A strange melancholy pervades me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sadness. In the past the idea of sadness always appealed to me, now I am almost ashamed of its complete egoism. I had known boredom, regret, and at times remorse, but never sadness. Today something envelops me like a silken web, enervating and soft, which isolates me.

This was actually quite promising. True, it is dominated by the introspection so beloved and teenagers (and probably everyone else too, only we learn to mask it better once we pass 19... although I was only 21 when I started this blog, so...) but there is a beauty to the expression of worn sentiments; 'what oft was thought but ne'er so well expressed' as Pope said of 'wit', fulfilling his own criterion.

Sagan continues in similar style throughout. Her constant introspection, and detailed observation of everyone around her, never irked me because the prose was often so beautiful, and the thoughts so striking. But perhaps I should mention the plot, and that complicated love.

Cecile lives with her young widower father Raymond, a hedonistic man with a revolving door of mistresses. They are on a holiday in the South of France with Raymond's latest mistress, a rather stupid young woman called Elsa; they are all enjoying frivolity and (in Cecile's case) the throes of a first love - when Anne turns up on the scene. Easily the most skillfully drawn character of the novel, Anne is a friend of Cecile's late mother, the same sort of age as Raymond, and gently, elegantly insinuates herself into their lives.

When exactly did my father begin to treat Anne with a new familiarity? Was it the day he reproached her for her indifference, while pretending to laugh at it? Or the time he grimly compared her subtlety with Elsa's semi-imbecility? My peace of mind was based on the stupid idea that they had known each other for fifteen years, and that if they had been going to fall in love, they would have done so earlier. And I thought also that if it had to happen, the affair would last at the most three months, and Anne would be left with her memories and perhaps a slight feeling of humiliation. Yet all the time I knew in my heart that Anne was not a woman who could be lightly abandoned.

Cecile doesn't like the way things are going, and hatches a plot to remove Anne from her life and that of her father. Anne is far from an archetypal wicked stepmother, but Cecile sees her as destroying their extant way of life, and unsettling the equilibrium of a superficial but contented life. Anne is, in fact, a determined, kind, ever-so-very-slightly desperate character; in polished control of herself, but aware that it will not be many years before her chances of settling down dwindle away.




As the narrative continues - how much is packed in! - Cecile gradually has a change of heart, and has to choose between derailing her plan or watching it carry itself out. Sagan's cleverness is in her unreliable narrator. One starts reading the novel assuming that Cecile's perspective is accurate, or at least the one that a young author wants us to accept. It becomes clear, however, that Sagan is fully aware of Cecile's blind-spots and limitations; Raymond, Elsa and especially Anne become distinctive characters outside of the peripheries of Cecile's flawed judgement. Even while we continue to see events through Cecile's eyes, the reader can look back upon Cecile and discover her deficiencies and incomplete self-awareness. If Sagan isn't quite so successful with the male characters (Cecile's beau Cyril is a one-dimensional besotted fool; Raymond has few hidden depths) then that should not diminish from the clever and sophisticated characters she has created in Cecile and Anne.

Ultimately, this summer is a coming-of-age (how I loathe that phrase, but I can think of no other) for more than just Cecile. Anne and Raymond also change over the course of the summer's events. Elsa might. Cyril probably does, off-stage, as it were. They all have glimpses of futures they could have, and futures they want to avoid; whether or not they succeed in altering their courses - that's the path we take with them. Bonjour Tristesse is a rich novella which would bear future re-reading. It would be an impressive work for any author, not simply an eighteen year old - but it is especially sickening that an eighteen year old should achieve it.


Books to get Stuck into:

I Capture the Castle - Dodie Smith: I've mentioned it in this section for another review, but it really is the coming-of-age novel par excellence. A lot of similarities with Bonjour Tristesse, albeit rather more amusing and less philosophical.

Brother of the More Famous Jack - Barbara Trapido: another bright young girl, growing up amongst unconventional types, this novel extends the scope beyond a dizzying summer to many years of after-effects.

The Rivals

I saw Sheridan's The Rivals (1775) at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket in London on Saturday, as I mentioned I would, and it was very, very good. To be honest, although the acting was great, I think it would be difficult to do the play badly. It might be up there with The Importance of Being Earnest of an actor-proof play, out of which even the most amateur of groups could wring many laughs.

Even if you think you know nothing about this play, chances are you do - for it is from The Rivals, and more precisely the character Mrs. Malaprop, that we get the malapropism. This maiden aunt (played on Saturday by the incredibly wonderful Penelope Keith, one of my heroines) speaks with 'words so ingeniously misapplied, without being mispronounced' - leading to all kinds of amusing mishaps, which have little impact on the plot, but are richly enjoyable. For example: 'He is the very pineapple of politeness'; 'Promise to forget this fellow - to illiterate him, I say, quite from your memory' and so on and so forth.

Although it is Mrs. Malaprop whose fame has lived longest, The Rivals is really mostly concerned with the complex love polygon (for triangle would be too simple) taking place with almost every character on stage. Chief amongst them is Captain Jack Absolute (played with saucy and energetic panache by Tam Williams) and Lydia Languish. They love each other, but he is under an assumed name, since she considers love more romantic if with one from another caste (shades of Love on the Supertax here?) His father (Peter Bowles, making a To The Manor Born reunion which made my little dreams come true) has arranged with Mrs. Malaprop (Lydia's aunt) for the two to be married - but Lydia doesn't know they are one and the same. All very confusing, and that's just for starters. It's all the most wonderful tangled web, of the variety beloved by late-18th century playwrights and P.G. Wodehouse alike. And that's not even mentioning the less important characters, all of whom are embroiled somehow.

It's such a fun play, and plotted so skillfully. Laughter rang throughout the theatre - which was shamefully nowhere near full, but that does mean you might still be able to secure tickets before it closes on 26th February. I agree with everything Charles Spencer says in his Telegraph review, from compliments about Simon Higlett's beautiful set design, to Spencer's relief that they haven't tried to make the play 'relevant' by needlessly updating or meddling with it. I love that a play from 1775 can still cause such joy and levity - and the chance to see Penelope Keith and Peter Bowles reunited was a delightful added bonus. I'd love to see more Sheridan plays now, especially School for Scandal... I wrote on these for finals back in 2007, but they have drifted from my mind.

If only the theatre weren't so hideously expensive...