The first two books in this series are covered in an earlier review.
After a wait for Voyage of the Basilisk (acquired through inter-library loan), I devoured the last three books of this series. The setup for the twist in Within the Sanctuary of Wings was sufficiently obvious through that I had spotted it mid-series. Especially once Isabella married.
But whatever the lack of surprise, it is more than made up for by the fast-paced adventures, foolishness and the Victorian woman willing to risk her family life in order to make scientific discoveries. The “science” is good fun, and the weaving in of other disciplines adds depth. Regular readers may recall I was quite taken by a drive to discover a lost language, and the Temeraire series which is another non-traditional “dragon history”.
If fast-paced fantasy novels are your thing, then these are good reads, and Isabella makes a fabulous heroine, always ready to try something foolhardy and usually win out. At a fair few points I could only bring myself to keep reading in the knowledge that as the writer of her own memoir, she surely couldn’t die in this adventure.
An American in Paris was a few hours of irresistibly danceable tunes and swirling skirts. A mix-up of jazz-driven tap and modern ballet. It is taken from a classic musical film, but I hadn’t seen that before I went into the theatre, although I’m tempted to hire it to watch at home one night.
Despite the grim settings and back stories of many of the characters (none of whom are prepared to discuss the war they have just lived through at the start), it is about finding purpose, beauty and love as life unfolds before them, so becomes a very feel-good show
The number of dancers filling the stage, and the music also helped with this: the band were fabulous.
The greatest mystery is how the woman two seats across from me (near the front of the stalls!) managed to fall into such a deep sleep that she was snoring in both acts!
This is not a book to read for the writing style, but then English is not Malala’s first, or second language. But instead it is a story to read for inspiration, about a girl who didn’t give up in the face of insurmountable opposition, and who despite coming so close to paying the ultimate price, has made leaps of progress as a result.
This was a “quick read” abridged version from the library, and I’ll look out for the full version instead because I want to read that greater depth.
This was picked up from a charity shop on our summer camping trip (in the same shop my son got 6 books as they were trying to clear down their children’s shelves with a 3 for £1 deal. His favourite was an old, small-type, paperback of The House at Pooh Corner.) I picked it up to read on the next camping trip, as it had been stored on the van bookshelf. I had to leave my misgivings about the cover of this book behind, as it was clearly sketched by someone who knew nothing about the geography of the places mentioned. But once I was in the pages I just kept reading.
I should hate this. English decides to deal with mid-life maudlin by abandoning his wife and children frequently and going in hunt of snow. But then again the temptation of snow is strong, and I can see the draw to keep going back. In fact it is only my own set of responsibilities that stops me from setting off now, and I’m hoping for snow on our planned winter walking weekends, with the van winterised and ready to go if we get some within reach on a weekend that we’re free.
This book is not a specialist on any subject, but meanders through the history of colonisation, scientific discovery, sports history and meteorology. It is the richer for that, for English lacks the depth in any of these to be a specialist, but has the passion to provide an overview woven into the narrative of his travels.
One of those gems that is found one in a blue moon, or July snowfall.
As a lover of both science writing and fantasy, especially that not set in pseudo-medieval worlds, this appealed to me instantly when recommended, and was promptly ordered from the library. Lady Trent is a wonderful character, a wilful daughter of the aristocracy when scientific careers are only permitted for men, and finds her own way to happiness.
There are wild dragons, but in England they are tiny insects for a young girl’s imagination to be captured. But as she grows into a woman, she has a systematic study of the sparklings rather than just a habit of watching them. But as a woman she cannot (yet) speak in the scientific societies, but instead has to carve her own, more difficult route.
These books are wonderful for their dragons, Isabella’s passion, the science and the feminist journey. I am ordering book three as soon as I’ve made a dent in my TBR pile. For some reason that one is missing from the library set, so I can’t get hold of it that way.
I am not sure what to make of this collection of essays. They link the essential parts of life to a selection of works of literature. Potentially if I was better read in his type of literature I would take more from this. But even without knowing all the works, the writing is wonderful. Consider phrases such as this
…and sometimes blew their parsimonious horns – the British Rail minor third.
It is just wonderfully evocative of a moment in time, and the book is filled with this language.
Additionally there is a sense of how we grow apart from our childhood homes, and how doing so is essential, is how we grow and heartbreaking. And how modern technology has both changed this process and made it easier for us to go still further. And how no-one would ever leave if they already knew how hard it would be to come back.
Not a life-changing book, but one that leads to deeper thought and a great appreciation of the English language.
This was, as can only be expected, well-acted and funny. A parody of a family Christmas, with an aunt getting drunk in the kitchen, the hostess falling for one of the guests and the men slouching around trying not to do anything. Although the children were oddly well-behaved in this party, always staying where they were told: just off the stage.
My disappointment was that it all ended in a rather unresolved fashion. Although of course that is how family gatherings do work: a continual rolling conversation spanning months or decades as people travel to group together infrequently. Potentially the unfinished nature is therefore a comment on the subject matter rather than a failing.
This is a very silly book, correlating teenage self-conciousness with a true desire to be invisible. The teenage years are always fun as a lack of ability to think through the consequences is so very believable to extremes which would be incredible for adults.
I was hoping that what she would discover about herself would be more introspective, but at least it was played well, and there were clear connections and good foreshadowing. But more importantly, I laughed. I laughed at bad gags, and at the foolish decisions that were being taken and the coincidences that made everything connect smoothly.
I’ll keep an eye out for more of Welford’s books at the library.
Joseph remains my favourite cheesy musical. Despite the latest director’s occasional wanders off the original score where the story was dropped and there is a “what the hell” moment.
…But all that I say can be told another way, in the story of a boy whose dream came true…
This was my son’s first proper musical at age five, and he announced that he liked two songs. But given how enthusiastically he applauded I think this was a case of remembering two songs in the moment. We generally had a lovely evening or, catching the 5pm extra showing, with hot chocolate beforehand and sushi when it turned out we’d just missed a train and had nearly an hour to wait to go home.
The children’s choir were very good, as was Trina Hill as narrator. I’d never before realised quite how bereft of women the cast is, as in children’s productions several of the brothers have been women. The semi-naked men were a bit of a distraction from that though, with the costumes well done.
With perspective the idea that all Joseph wants once he is a great success as an adult is the cost his dad had given him without any warning or effort does suggest a very primal need for family love and acceptance, but I suspect I am reading too deeply into Andrew Lloyd Webber’s light hearted musical there. Although Any Dream Will Do always raises a year, even if the emotions behind that change as I have aged.
History of Wolves stands out for its sense of place. This is a book in which the setting stands out on its own, for its beauty and isolation. We are given a strong feeling that how the plot unravels is because of the lake between Linda and Paul.
The plot however is not one I enjoyed. There was too much blame placed on the teenager, although of course as the narrator she would look to blame herself. And it was generally just exploring the worst sides of human nature: weakness, selfishness and cowardice. Although the narrator’s lack of action is understandable, and she does somewhat redeem herself as she begins to forgive as an adult.
I think the three plots tied in here muddy each other, and despite the title there is a distinct lack of wolves within the story, with the “History of Wolves” itself being a very minor plot point. And despite the importance of religion to the direction the plot goes in, it is again barely mentioned.
However the writing was very good, and as mentioned earlier, the sense of place was brilliant. The impression is given that the place itself matures towards being more civilised as these actions were left behind.