A follow up to What the ladybird heard, which is one of my son’s favourite books (and one we may well see in the theatre this summer).
The art is very similar, and for the first four pages of On Holiday, I thought this was going to be exactly the same with different animals. But then we moved onto the Ladybird’s solution, and it was again both hilarious and innovative, but also completely different. Julia Donaldson’s ability to innovate with children’s plots never fails to satisfy.
My five year old son read it with me (taking it in turns). He liked it at the end when all the animals cheered for the Monkey. He says “its all good”
Netgallery sent me a copy of this ebook in exchange for an honest review.
Alderman’s The Power well-deserves its place in the Bailey’s Shorlist. An Atwood-style utopian/dystopian future. I did though have a little less respect for the Atwood quote on the front cover when the acknowledgements make it clear that she mentored Alderman. I’m very keen for writers in a genre to mentor upcoming writers, but then providing public feedback seems misleading.
Onto the book though: I like the concept, a reversal of all gender-based power. It places misogyny into context, whilst questioning just how much is due to essential shared human nature, with the flipping of the power merely changing who abused it.
I found the introductory letters confusing, until I read the epilogue letters as well, at which point the whole story clicked into much clearer context. The setting of the main book is a near-future science fiction, in which all women have gained a new life and death power. We follow four characters, and see how the changing world shapes them. Each central character is given depth, and has their own voice throughout. Their stories twist together and apart through this, done perfectly smoothly.
A must-read, and my favourite so far to win the Baileys, although as a science fiction fan I may be biased!
Is anyone else reading from the shortlist?
I had never before seen an opera, and felt this was something I should do. When I was browsing this season at the Manchester Theatres, I was glad to see La Boheme on the programme. As a Rent fan since my mid-teens, I expected that the themes and plot of La Boheme would be accessible, and make the whole opera experience easier.
Still I didn’t know quite what to expect when we got to the theatre. In some ways an opera in a language I knew better than Italian may have been a better call, but I now know just how much of Rent is taken from La Boheme, including throwing artistic material into the burner during the first scene, a flitation through candle-lighting, dancing on the tables and Mimi overhearing the male friends discussing her health as the setup for the final scene takes place.
I’m not sure I would ever go to see another, but I am glad this was my opera, and would recommend anyone to give it a try.
I had this as an audiobook, read chapter-by-chapter as I took the train to and from work. Each day I lost myself in a mythical Japan, where Shikanoko finds his powers and influence within the Islands rises and falls. A strongly mythical setting, magical powers are real, and as important for influence as military powers. Spirits truly haunt, and fate plays a strong part in the direction of the characters.
This last part was one of the most frustrating parts of the book for me. Used to more active protagonists, heroes who fate repeated drops into the right place and time, again and again seem to lack decisiveness, and makes the novel more of a blocking piece than dependent on the characters.
But I will read the rest of the Tale of Shikanoko, to discover what happens to all these intricate, well-written characters.
Following the success of Dangerous Women II, I picked up II from the library. However whereas III was full of exciting, well-paced stories, this was dull and drab in comparison. Half the stories I didn’t even finish, just flicked onto the next one from about the fourth page. In other words, a disappointment that can’t be returned too soon.
One is a very adventurous book. Its the story of two conjoined twins, as they grow into themselves, told entirely in verse.
I like poetry, and this was well-paced, short poems interspaced with longer to move the story along. The choice to only ever hear one twin’s voice was well-chosen, giving us a view of Grace as her own person alone, even as she is never apart from Tippi.
As young adult fiction it shows two girls with difficult lives making choices and growing to share lives with others and move into the difficult word of alcohol and sex. I think it stood up well as a book without the final dilemma they are faced with. That dilemma was handled well, with the choices well-framed and the unexpected ending bringing a tear to my eyes.
If this wasn’t quite so short and one of the Bailey’s prize shortlist, I would have given up on it. A deary introspective look at Neve’s relationships First Love never really offers love, just an understanding of why she can’t share it fully.
I’m not sure why this was shortlisted, and am glad it was from the library and therefore easy to return.
Totting up beforehand we realised we had watched about half a dozen of Shakespeare’s plays between us, although that did count the three times I have seen Romeo and Juliet as one. But of course we have had exposure to the rough plot of many more.
We laughed out loud at this. The actors were lively and the script did not run through each play formularically, but instead tackled them in vastly different manners. From a cook show to a rugby match through to just skipping between main scenes, each was satisfying to watch. The two of us ended up on stage for the audience participation though, with my husband having to scream as I ran back and forth.
Good customer service from the Little Theatre too, who came to find us in the interval and ask if we wanted the same seats next year (a definite yes from us).
I’m not sure quite what I expected from The Sport of Kings, but this wasn’t it. It is a great American Novel in that tradition, a look at Kentucky social structures and racism, and a commentary on family relationships.
My teenage years reading horsey books proved valuable here, as I had a basic understanding of the breeding of Thoroughbreds, and how American horse farms can work. But at every section I was left struggling to keep up as the setting changed dramatically, especially with the first cut to Allmon. And I didn’t understand any of the Interludes or what they where adding to the story.
I still read it compulsively though, letting the threads pull the story together to a coherent whole, and appreciating how early foreshadowing was tied up in the last section of the book. It is clearly a well-structured book, with character depth and development. We see whole generations moving through the community, and social changes as history carries old practices away.
A well-written book, and although not one I would have chosen myself, the sort of book that is worth reading to gain perspective, even if the writer’s aims are at times opaque. As I am trying to read the women’s prize, the focus on me throughout much of this was disappointing, as was Morgan’s decision to publish with her initials rather than first name.
Having cast aside The Lesser Bohemians, I picked The Dark Circle out of my library bag in its place. This was much more readable, written in a conventional third-person style, moving between points of view as the plot develops.
I appreciated the perspective on the dawning days of the NHS, and how rationing, waiting lists and condemnation of patients was always part of the culture. But the NHS itself was not the subject, far more how the circle of friends at the centre of this novel drew together, and each coped with and recovered from, their time in the institution. How they each managed in the prospect of death, and how ultimately each of them left.
It is a “coming of age” story, but one with a difference, in that the trial these young people pass through is one of its time. And the writing gives a perspective on that time, and a connection to the characters that makes the whole situation heartbreaking.
Very well-written, and a good selection of a slightly unusual subject-matter.