Coming like a ghost town

Week 3: The Miniaturist – Jessie Burton
Recommended by: Fleur Frederick

The Miniaturist, Jessie Burton's debut novel, is probably what could be termed a buzz book. That is, one which has received plenty of strong reviews, generated word of mouth, and, based on my brief conversations about what I'm reading, has been greeted with the odd "Ooh, that's on my list too."

It was a bit of a slow burner, taking a while to get going and never really hitting top gear. The writing is strong and the choice of 17th century Amsterdam as the setting, during the golden age of the Dutch East India Company, promises an exhilarating backdrop. Yet what should be a buzzing city, teeming with life, is strangely absent. It's a place where money and morality rule in almost equal measure, yet most of what we know about that is heard rather than seen. The city, indeed, is largely missing from what is primarily a family drama.

It is centred around the arrival of Nella, a young country girl thrust into the Brandt household following her marriage to wealthy trader Johannes. She has to grow and adjust to life with her absent husband, his shrewish sister Marin, and their two servants. Much like the city, the characters are also quite insubstantial, mysteries that aren't always solved and seem to float through the novel never quite filled in. Nella grows up quickly as the novel progresses, becoming the assertive figure in the household, but the ghost-like quality of the others makes it seem inevitable things will slip through her fingers as there is not enough to hold on to.

The plot certainly picks up pace from the halfway mark, as secrets and skeletons are dragged from closed mouths and closets, and it keeps the reader's attention. However, the whole premise of the miniaturist also feels unnecessary. It's an interesting concept and would make an excellent ghost story (or Simpsons Treehouse of Horror episode) but I don't feel it enhances the story in any real way and neither is it satisfactorily resolved. It may have been the original idea that the story was hung on, but for me the rest of the plot outgrew it, leaving it somewhat extraneous. There's promise here, but ultimately this feels more like a series of sketches bound together than a masterpiece.

Ain't no mountain high enough

Week 2: World Without End – Ken Follett
Recommended by: Katie Lewis

If I've not read a lot of historical fiction in general, it would be fair to say I’ve read even less ‘genre’, or perhaps ‘fantastical’ historical fiction. Therefore I’m in the slightly odd position of not really having a reference point here. I know little about the Black Death or the Hundred Years’ War, the backdrop to the novel. Nor have I read The Pillars of the Earth, the multi-million-selling predecessor (this is more of a follow up than a sequel), though I certainly don’t feel it was necessary except perhaps as a point of comparison, for which I would be grateful at this point in time!

There are many reasons one could criticse World Without End. It’s anachronistic, pushing 21st century values onto 14th century people. The prose is nothing special; the dialogue somewhat clichéd. The characters are a bit too black and white – most people are clearly good guys or bad guys. For instance, there’s a lot less grey compared to George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire, and while Follett is prepared to be a bastard to his creations, it lacks both the brutality and finality of Westeros. The blood ties and numerous relationships between the characters could leave it feeling a bit like Hollyoaks in petticoats. The plot twists, of which there are myriad, follow a clear pattern and build up a sense of nothing lasting forever; all decisions can be reversed. The central plot device of the letter is largely irrelevant and rather anticlimactic in that it wasn’t exactly a gamechanging reveal. And yet…

And yet I really enjoyed it. It was a proper page turner (good job too at 1250 pages!), had compelling characters that I cared about and whose stories I wanted to follow, and for the most part held up the narrative drive throughout this absolute doorstep of a novel. The central love story was endearing and I was rooting for them. The endings were earned, people reaping what they sowed, and maybe it’s the moral arbiter in me but I do appreciate that and I’ve always been a sucker for a happy ending. It had backstabbing and politicking, it had thrills and spills, and most of all it was fun, an enjoyable romp through an imaginary England.

As well as being fun, it did raise some interesting issues too. Anachronistic they may have been but I suspect many of the issues raised will strike chords with readers, particularly Caris’ struggle to balance what it means to have a career and what is expected of being a woman. The same applies to Gwenda and Philippa, particularly concerning motherhood and the limits of a woman’s place. You can’t charge the author with writing weak female characters, and the male ones are interesting too. Thanks to Merthin engineering has never been so sexy.

There is also a healthy social liberalism throughout, the spirit of the permissive society, that one suspects may not have been terribly accurate, but echoes messages of tolerance fitting for a time of legalised gay marriage. And in our increasingly secular society, religion is not painted terribly well – it shows people who are greedy or power-hungry are so regardless of their place in the church or society and that belief in god has little to do with being a good person or doing the right thing. Mother Cecilia is perhaps the only character we see much of who balances genuine faith, political practicality, and being a paragon of virtue. It might not have been terribly realistic on a historical level, but Follett’s Kingsbridge is an entertaining playground and if you’re after a hefty slab of escapism, you could do an awful lot worse.

Star rising in the east

Week 1: A Star Called Henry – Roddy Doyle

Recommended by: Mum

Roddy Doyle is perhaps Ireland’s best-known contemporary author, achieving both commercial and critical success, but largely not figuring on my reading radar. I read Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha as part of my (now successful) attempt to read all the Booker Prize winners, and I liked it a lot, but since then he’s never again featured in my reading life, despite being my mum’s favourite author.

This is frankly my loss because A Star Called Henry definitely lives up to the billing. This is history, poverty, war with the edges very much on. From the almost tangible bleakness of turn of the 20th century Dublin, it crackles with life and this is not just any life – this is omnipotent teenage life. Equal parts cock of the walk and walk of the cock, Henry Smart lives up to name he proudly bears and through a combination of savvy, brutality and seduction, what Henry wants he usually gets.

Tangled up in the Easter Rising and the Irish rebellion, Henry is a no morals gun for hire as he tries to trace his family’s history. At its best, it sizzles along through a remorseless country, part Wu Ming, part Blood Meridian, all grim and grit. And yet as Henry puts his massive footprints all over history, he starts to realise that a weapon is all he is and that he’s not only dispensable, the world he’s grown up in is changing and he starts to question his place in it.

As in the best historical fiction, the book throws up challenges and questions to accepted narratives and truths. I’m no Irish history scholar but there’s an awful lot of grey and murk in here that could easily be cleansed away by those with an agenda. But on a more fundamental level, despite the backdrop, this is still a character-driven novel and Henry really is a star.

Reasonable doubt

Getting through a book a week will be a challenge, albeit a manageable one, but there is a more serious nagging doubt gnawing at me. Reading them is all well and good but what if I don't like them? People are going out on a very personal limb here: "This is my all-time favourite" or "I love this book" comes loaded with emotional threat: "Can we still be friends if you don't like this?" I mean, yes, of course we can. That's ridiculous. Obviously. 

And yet, I know how important books are to people, how the most treasured stories can be a part of them, and it's hard not to take criticism of them personally. I know I do with those that I love. And yeah, I do know that it's your opinion and you're perfectly entitled to it, but you’re totally wrong and clearly an imbecile to boot.

So I know what is being invested. I will be fair and I will be honest and I will ultimately only be giving my thoughts, which are not really worth very much at the end of the day. And rest assured, I have somewhere along the lines become an optimist and always look for the good things so there's not (too) much chance of a hatchet job.

To that end, I will be taking my lead from W.B. Yeats:

"I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

"If you build it, they will come."

And come they did. Not quite in the same way as when I last recall being given that message. That time I was under orders to turn my room into a fort, complete with panda flag, which I duly did. They, rather unsurprisingly, came, and we all had afternoon tea. Delightful. Oh, those heady days of 2007...

Anyway, back to 2015 and one Facebook post later I've managed to generate plenty of recommendations, which is both fantastic and a pleasant surprise. Admittedly I'm not sure why it surprised me so much given that for the most part I didn't have my friends pegged as a bunch of illiterate barbarians tearing up Twitter and sodomising Snapchat, who wouldn't know a book outside of that handy object wedged under the wonky table leg. 

What is even better is that so far I've had a real pick and mix selection of different genres, fiction and non-fiction, classics and contemporary, long and short, 'been meaning to read that' and 'never heard of it'. Which was exactly what I wanted, so thank you. And nobody has recommended Jeffrey Archer, so that's the icing on the cake.

And so it came to pass...

So something I've been thinking about for a while is another reading challenge. What with the neat way that time passes and we record it, the turning of a new year seemed like a good place to start – hence the forthcoming ramblings that will follow.

After 2011's voyage of discovery to broaden my horizons (and read 100 books) and last year's (surprisingly successful) attempt to actually read some of the myriad books gathering dust on my numerous shelves, I decided the best thing to do would be to place myself entirely in the hands of other people in 2015. To that end, I will be asking one person each week to recommend me a book, which I will then read, and then write about, ideally in that order.

52 books is plenty to be getting on with and still leave me with the opportunity to read book club choices and some of whatever else I may want in between. It turns out 100 books was the minimum I've read in the last four years so the numbers shouldn't really be a challenge.

What I'm looking forward to is the opportunity to read things that other people love, which may just say something about them. Not to mention the challenge of stretching myself in different directions, discovering something new and wonderful, and maybe just being given something I've never got round to – nobody's read everything, after all.

I will be asking a variety of people for recommendations, but if you're particularly keen to insist I read something, I'm certainly open to options. Here's to another year's adventure in reading.