Book Review: The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett

I read this book against the back drop of the #BlackLivesMatter demonstrations gathering momentum across the globe. It is hard to imagine a more momentous time to have engaged with this particular novel, but I am quite convinced that whenever I had met The Vanishing Half , it’s impact would be have been the same.

Brit Bennett has created a mesmerising, immersive and critically important novel. Published by Dialogue, I am so grateful to Millie Seaward for sending me a gifted copy.

The story begins in Louisiana 1954, where twins Desiree and Stella Vignes are growing up in small town named Mallard. Mallard is unique. A black community, but one whose history is built on years of marriages between ‘mulattos’. It’s inhabitants are black but ‘each generation (is) lighter than the one before’.

But make no mistake, this is not a white community. When their father is killed in a klan style lynching, part of which the girls witness, their dreams of school and better life are snatched away. By 16 they are working for white families.

It is free spirited Desiree who persuades Stella to break free, and head to New Orleans. But it is Stella whose life takes the most dramatic turn. When she is mistaken for a white woman, a whole new life opens up before her. What starts as an honest mistake takes on a life of it’s own. One that will pull her away from her family and her old life forever.

But can anyone truly leave their heritage, race and identity behind them? This is the question that is explored throughout out this beautiful and perceptive novel.

In the case of Stella, Brit Bennett, has created a complex and multilayered character. It is all too tempting to dismiss and judge the decisions that Stella has made. It is in the gift and skill of the author to make the reader to stop and reflect on the choices Stella makes.

We are forced to question whether it is Stella who chose to redefined herself or was it society. Is it so wrong that Stella, bone tired from the daily fight against prejudice and injustice, takes the way to a life less fraught, less dangerous? Think of the town she grew up in, it could be argued that she is just taking the town’s philosophy one step further. Or is she crossing an unforgivable line, by turning her back on her life, family and denying her race?

Stella’s story is at the heart of the novel, but the impact of her choices and what it takes to live with these decisions are felt across the generations. Through the eyes of her daughter Kennedy, raised with money and opportunity, we get an emerging understanding of operational and inherent white privilege. Compare Kennedy’s life to her cousin Jude; as black as Kennedy is white, their lives cross but struggle to connect.

The comparison of the direction of the next generation gets starkly and comprehensively to the nub of institutional and long standing racism. By exchanging a black life for a white one Stella seems, almost effortlessly to rise. But is Stella’s life a true life or a half life? Does she exchange one type of fight, complication and heartbreak for another one?

Within the novel Stella is not the only character looking to redefine herself. Reese, partner of Jude, is transsexual, moving forward, and like Stella looking to make sense of a hostile and changing world. The introduction of Reese further enhances the question of where your sense of self comes from. Is it an inherent need, rising from deep inside yourself, or is it something created from your experiences, environment and inheritance?

This is a novel filled to the brim with complexities, joy and pain, truth and lies. The title, The Vanishing Half, is so relevant to and representative of the events and characters within it. It’s generational span is a showcase for a cast of strong, multilayered and authentic women. This novel raises awareness, provokes discussion and offers hope. At any time I would recommend this book, at this time it is a must read.

Rachel x

Blog Tour Review: What Doesn’t Kill You…

It is my absolute pleasure today to be taking my turn on the Blog Tour for What Doesn’t Kill You : Fifteen Stories of Survival Edited by Elitsa Dermendzhiyska, published by Unbound.

This is a collection of essay, each written by individuals whose lives have been touched in some way by mental ill health. Their stories are unique, all as a consequence of entirely different circumstances, experiences and illnesses.

But each story is told with a raw honesty; each writer has opened up a small part of themselves to share their experiences sensitively and with compassion.

It seems to cliched to call the writers assembled here brave, but it is also undeniable. In an increasingly challenging world, the acceptance of and discussion around mental ill health still,all too often, feels like a struggle. Wrapped in their eloquence and empathy, each story within this collection offers a glimmer of hope.

Each story is different. That seems a mad and ridiculously obvious thing to write, yet it struck me as I was reflecting on this book, how beautifully these essays collectively illustrate the point that no one person’s story, diagnosis or journey is the same. The complexity and breadth of mental health issues is laid bare within these pages. Yet there is a shared understanding of the fact that no one path of recovery is the same. There is not one catch all drug, no one all encompassing therapy, no magic time limit on recovery. Nothing about mental ill health is linear; recovery is as individual as experience and diagnosis.

But recovery is possible. Each of these stories is a beacon of hope. And each holds that essential element; acceptance and communication. As each story unfolds, it seemed clear to me that the binding thread, the pivotal moment within each account, was the moment when the illness was acknowledged. At this point there was a small shift from a perceived battle, towards a sense of moving on with the illness, diagnosis, condition as a recognised part of life.

As Julian Baggini points out in his contributed essay No Cure for Life , when supporting friends and loved ones who are treading this path you can offer support but no salvation. This journey is unique and often lonely. And, as Baggini rightly states universal happiness is not possible or even desirable. What is labelled here as The Fairy Tale Template, and is perpetuated by our increasingly crazy world of social media and consumerism is one of the biggest barriers to good mental health. Because to appreciate the light, there has to be some dark. The key, and the recognised challenge lies in maintaining the balance,

All stories here contain lifelines, each thrown out by different people, different circumstances, in different times and places. Recovery hinges on catching the right lifeline at the right time and place.

Each story within this collection is an inspiration. It isn’t my intention to talk about each in turn. But like all books there are certain references which will stay with me. For example Rory Bremner’s ADHD and Me was a fascinating insight, particularly for me as an SEN teacher. The acknowledgment of the difficulties but most importantly the gifts his condition presented really struck a cord. His honestly about ADHD being part of his core, part of him, was refreshing,

One of the most powerful depictions of ongoing mental ill health came for me in Eight by A.J. Ashworth. The sense of self laid bare in her vivid descriptions of panic attacks, experienced from a young age, was quite breathtaking. Like so many of these stories, the key to learning to cope comes from acknowledgment and identification. In Ashworth’s case she describes her attacks as ‘a black bulb buried deep that I cannot find the switch for.’

There are so many poignant examples of strength and honesty in this collection I could go on far beyond the edges of this blog post. You need to experience the beauty of Irenosen Okojie prose as she details how her writing slowly brought her through what she describes as her ‘winter’, her silver and grey period.

Or Kate Leaver’s powerful battle with and recovery from anorexia; her turning point coming in the form of Hunger Strike by Susie Orbach. The feminist writings were her way forward to recovery.

What each of these stories by their very nature and being illustrates is the power that we can find in the written and spoken word. Shared experiences and communication won’t eradicate mental health issues, but they bring it out into the open. Acceptance and discussion is a powerful weapon.

It has been my pleasure and privilege to read, and offer my review. I hope this collection is read and appreciated for the gem it is

Rachel x

And there is more…

For more reviews and reactions to this collection, please check out the rest of the blog tour…

Blog Tour Book Review: The Light Keeper by Cole Moreton

This book crept up on me, and then, all of a sudden I was ambushed. It was such an unexpected joy I immediately took to Twitter to praise and recommend. Then I sat down to write this review. Huge thanks go to the author, Cole Morton for allowing me to read, and to Rhoda Hardie, Marylebone House for my gifted copy. It is my absolute pleasure to be taking my turn on the The Light Keeper Blog Tour today.

So what is so special about this book? I suspect for every reader the answer to this question is likely to be different . For The Light Keeper is that kind of book, so full of life experiences that everyone is likely to take something quite unique away from it.

The novel begins with the story of Jack and Sarah. Jack comes home and finds Sarah is missing. They are coming to the end of their IVF journey; the money has run out and the impending pregnancy test represents their final chance at parenthood. Jack believes that Sarah has buckled under the pressure and is headed to Beachy Head to end her life.

He dashes out of London, but when he arrives on the cliffs Sarah is no where to be found. Jack finds himself in a community that seems governed by the fact the cliffs regularly attract souls who are lost and looking to end their lives. The cliffs are patrolled by The Guardians, on the watch for jumpers; hoping to intervene.

Living on the cliff edge is The Keeper. A former war reporter, living in a semi renovated lighthouse; a man is dealing with his own demons. Trapped inside his grief, he is sustained and at times tormented by imagined conversations with his dead partner Ri. So isolated, his actual name isn’t revealed until towards the end of the novel, when his barriers start to come down.

The lighthouse acts, unintentionally as a meeting place. It is the focal point of the novel where the complex stories of the characters come together and in some cases collide. Slowly a web of connections and stories are woven, stories that span generations and bring influences together from across the globe.

The characters of this novel are it’s strength; it’s backbone. Each character brings their own battles and scars to the plot, all authentically brought together. Lives are complex and this is sympathetically acknowledged; indeed, it is integral to the success of the plot and the novel itself. Nothing here is what it seems at first glance. The past and the present are constantly competing, as characters try to carve their way forward.

Cole Moreton has fashioned a vivid and multilayered portrait of grief, presenting the reader with sensitive and individual reactions to loss and trauma. There are no standard responses, no cliches, but rather a host of characters with their own story to tell, each trying to overcome and cope.

This book is a celebration of humanity. An understanding of the human spirit, an acknowledgment of what happens when hope is gone but someone takes time to listen to your story, to offer hope and see beyond the difficulties. A rare and unexpected treat.

Rachel x

And there is more…

For other reviews and opinions on The Light Keeper check out the rest of the blog tour below…

A hard one to write… #BlackLivesMatter

This has been a blog post I have thought long and hard about writing. And I will probably thinking long and hard about publishing it when it is finished.

The events that began with tragic and unjust death of George Floyd and have spread across the globe have dominated the news and many people’s thoughts over the past week. No one can hide from this.

Some people have been vocal , some people quieter, but the shock waves and the pain are undeniable. My own small marker in the sand was to share a stack of books. A stack of books filled with talent generated by BAME authors, amassed over a life time of reading.

The stack was tall, but not exclusive. I could have included other books. I missed out the beautiful Remembered by Yvonne Battle- Felton, which I read, loved and reviewed last year.

And what about The Underground Railroad or The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead? Both books that have never left me and I recommend on a regular basis.

Or Why I am no longer talking to white people about race by Reni Eddo Lodge ? Possibly one of the most powerful pieces of non fiction writing I have ever read. It made me gasp, it makes me stop, it made me realise what white privilege really was.

Because that’s what books do. They educate you. They inform, they direct and sometimes they bridge the divide. By posting that stack on Social Media I wasn’t trying to jump on the band wagon, I wasn’t trying to shame anyone else into taking a stand. I was saying; This is me. This is where I am and what I have read. Show me where to go next.

But even posting that stack and asking for recommendations I was worried. What if people did think I was jumping on the bandwagon? Looking for likes and retweets. And what if I said the wrong thing? I don’t want to add insult to injury with a wrongly worded post or blog. But I do want to learn.

But it was Book Twitter at it’s finest that responded to me. Over the evening a beautiful list of unexpected and undiscovered treasures appeared on my post. And on Facebook. And on Instagram. Suddenly I had a direction, a way forward.

There are hundreds of talented BAME authors I haven’t discovered yet. But the reading list below is the one offered to me yesterday in a dark time. And I am beginning there. From now on at least one of these books will be part of my reading each month. And more.

Because one thing I know about books, is that they are a journey. One book leads to another. Knowledge is a trail to follow. Books have always been my source of joy, comfort, knowledge empowerment. I see no reason to stop now.

I know I am a white, middle class, middle aged women. I know that I will probably unwittingly say or do the wrong thing. But I am listening and I am trying. I am going forward with books.

Rachel x

Books and authors that were recommended to me were…

Roxane Gay
Dorothy Koomson
Edwidge Danticat
Onjali Rauf
Chimimanda Ngozie Adiche
This lovely city- Louise Hare
A Rage in Harlem – Chester Himes
The Broken Earth Triology – N.K Jenisin
Brave Story – Miyuki Miyabe
A Tale for the Time Being – Ruth Ozeki
Citizen – Claudia Rankine
A Different Drummer- William Melvin Kelly
The Icarus Girl – Helen Oyeyemi
Kinty – Jennifer Nansubuga
The Darkest Child – Delores Phillips
Black Boy – Richard Wright
Every Light In The House Burning – Andrea Levy
Kindred by Octavia E. Butler
The Hate You Give – Angie Thomas

May Wrap Up!

May is almost done and it seems my reading speed as picked up! From struggling with my reading mojo at the beginning of lockdown, I now seem to be finding my retreat in books the longer the situation continues.

With the ever more crazy situation in politics and current affairs in general, books seem a safer refuge. Beautiful weather has taken my reading outside, and the world has seemed blissfully far away.

So, what I have I read! Well quite a lot actually, and I have finally begun to get through some of my ‘overlooked’ titles. Books that have been sitting on my shelves for ages. One such book was The Confession by Jessie Burton. Published last year, I was late to the party but it was completely worth the wait. I hadn’t planned to review this one but I was so surprised and delighted by it that I felt I had to.

Another ‘catchup’ book, was The Animals at Lockwood Manor by Jane Healey. Set at the beginning of World War Two, and with strong female characters, this one was always destined to be a winner for me. My review can be found here.

I also finally got around to reading Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens. I particularly enjoy the setting of this novel. It was one of those books where you became completely transported and immersed. It brought to mind one of my all time favourite reads To Kill a Mockingbird.

I embarked upon a couple more catch up reads as part of my book club reading. The first was the gentle and delightful Saving Missy by Beth Morrey. I read it and enjoyed it but it really came alive in our book group discussion. So many layers are cleverly woven into this novel, it made for a great Book Club book.

My second book club read of this month was Normal People by Sally Rooney. I have to admit here and now that I have avoided this book for a long time. I know it came out to universal praise, but I was quite reluctant to read it. I had read and not enjoyed Conversations With Friends and this quite simply put me off. I haven’t had my book club discussion on this one yet, so I am playing my cards close to my chest…Watch this space!

This month I also completed my self imposed challenge to read the Women’s Prize Short List . Let’s not kid ourselves, this has been no great hardship. I can honestly say that I have enjoyed each book on the short list this year. I finished my reading with Dominicana by Angie Cruz and Weather by Jenny Offill. I will be watching with interest when the winner is announced on 9th September. I have my favourite, but that is for another time.

Other books I have read and reviewed in May have included some fascinating historical fiction. The witty and observant Chatterton Square by E.H Young was recently re-released by British Library Publishing. Set in the summer of 1938, against the backdrop of appeasement, it is a wonderful commentary on a women’s perspective on marriage.

From 1930’s London to 1700’s Imperial Russia, allow me to present Tsarina by Ellen Alpsten. This was a book I reviewed as part of a blog tour. Filled with opulence and cruelty in equal measure it is the story of Catherine I of Russia and her remarkable rise from peasant to Tsarina. You can fine my review here.

One of my favourite books of the month, both to read and review was the extraordinary Saving Lucia by Anna Vaught. Published earlier this month by Blue Moose Books, this book is the story of four women. All incarcerated within asylums, all infamous , but at the same time all desperately misunderstood and overlooked. This novel is a beautiful reimagining of their stories, offering them freedom through their own voices.

My final review of the month was an Instagram Review of A Children’s Bible by Lydia Millet. Focusing on the approaching global emergency that is Climate Change, the author explores what happens when theory becomes reality and how the older generations struggle to adapt to the sudden and necessary changes needed. A powerful warning to all.

The vast majority of my reading this month has been fiction, but there have been two notable and worthy exceptions. Firstly I dabbled in poetry, picking up Matthew Francis’ The Mabinogi. I heard of this retelling of the ancient Welsh epic from not one but two podcasts, Backlisted and Hay Festival Podcast. I have to say, I loved it. Evocative and lyrical it was a unexpected and welcome change.

Secondly, I come to my one nonfiction read of the month Hidden Valley Road by Robert Kolker. The fascinating, and often heart breaking story of the Galvin family. A fine all American family to the outside world, 6 of their 12 children were diagnosed with schizophrenia. This book examines the realities of life in the Galvin household, and explores how this family helped unwittingly to inform future research in to and treatment of schizophrenia. Thank you to Amanda @BookishChat for putting this one on my radar.

Finally I come to what I am thinking of as ‘Treats yet to come.’ These are the books that I have read this month that either have reviews pending or are yet to be published. And there are some crackers!

I am so excited to currently be working on my review of Summerwater by Sarah Moss. Sarah Moss is a genius in my eyes, and Summerwater is just a delight. This review is taking an age to write, as I am determined to do the book justice. Due out in August of this year, it is not to be missed.

A couple of books that I have reviews written for and ready to share in the next week or so are Walter & Florence and other stories by Susan Hill and The Light Keeper by Cole Moreton. Neither of these books were on my radar at the beginning of the month and both have been a delight. Watch out for the reviews!

And finally we come to What Doesn’t Kill You – Fifteen Stories of Survival. A collection of moving and deeply personal accounts of individual experiences of surviving mental ill health. It is my pleasure to be part of the blog tour beginning early next month, organised by Anne Cater, which celebrates this very important book.

So, all in all a very busy reading month. I think it is far to say that what is getting me through lockdown are family, ice cream and books!! Bring on June!

Rachel x

Blog Tour Review: Tsarina by Ellen Alpsten

I seem to say this a lot…but I do love historical fiction. I love the places it takes me, it’s ability to transport me away from the daily reality and deposit you somewhere entirely different.

So I always have my eye out for new historical fiction and find it very hard to resist signing up for blog tours when the past is on the cards. When Anne Cater offered me the chance to get on board with Ellen Alpsten’s debut novel Tsarina, published by Bloomsbury, I didn’t even try to resist; I jumped at the chance.

Tsarina begins in 1699. On the cusp of a new century, Russia is in the grip of the Great Northern War. Led by Tsar Peter I, the country is under going a transformation. Peter is well travelled, ambitious and ruthless. His desire to modernise and transform his domains is all consuming, and he will stop at nothing to achieve the Westernised Russia he craves.

Rewards for loyalty and bravery are lavish, but punishment for deception , perceived or otherwise, are brutal in the extreme. The chasm between rich and poor gaps. It is both an exciting and terrifying time to be alive.

As Peter wages war throughout the Baltic, Marta, an illegitimate peasant girl is sold by her family aged just fifteen. Finding herself miles from home and surrounded by brutally, she fears the worse when fate leads her to a Russian battle camp. Here she catches the eye of Peter himself and so begins her spectacular rise to power.

Peter is brutal, but he is also brilliant and charismatic. There is an immediate connection between Marta and himself. She is thrown into the world of excess and riches, becoming Peter’s mistress, living openly with him at court. Showered with material pleasures, Marta is all too aware that her existence hangs continually in the balance. She needs to provide Peter with a true heir, and she needs to maintain his interest in a court full of attractive and ruthless women.

This is a true rags to riches story; the story of how a peasant girl became a Tsarina; the infamous Catherine I of Russia, ultimately a ruler in her own right.

I devoured this book! There is a richness and vitality to the writing that mirrors the turbulent opulence contained within it’s pages. Alpsten is master of the detail. Her ability to transport me from lockdown Britain to 18th Century Russia, never failed to amaze or delight me.

This is one of those novels you get hopelessly lost in, immediately immersed in the prose. Historical fiction fans will undoubtedly love it, but anyone who is looking for a breathtaking story spectacularly told need look no further.

The story of Catherine I has everything, and the writing wrapped around it here gives it that little bit more. I guarantee that once you pick up Tsarina, you won’t be able to put it down.

Ellen Alpsten has created something infused with magic.If you love historical fiction …this one is a feast for the senses and the soul! Enjoy the ride!

Rachel x

And there is more…

For more reactions and reviews check out the rest of the Tsarina Blog Tour …

Book Review: Summerwater by Sarah Moss

No one writes like Sarah Moss. When you open a novel by Sarah Moss you are going to fall down a rabbit hole and not come up for air. Her writing is sharp, detailed and quite frankly amazing, so best clear your schedule if you are about to start one of her books.

So when I heard there was a new Sarah Moss, Summerwater , on the horizon I was desperate to read it. Thank you to Camilla Elworthy for the chance. Back in May I devoured it, loved it, sat down to write my review and failed…

Not because Summerwater isn’t a great book, it is. It’s a fabulous book with bells on! I started and stopped my review because I was convinced I couldn’t convey even half of it’s brilliance. So I wrote one line and stalled; chickened out basically.

But now it’s August and this book needs a review. I need to pay some kind of tribute to this clever and complete book, even if it falls short. And I need to pay tribute to an author I have mentioned numerous times on the blog but never reviewed. So I have embarked on my first reread of the year, put my big girl pants on and here goes…

Summerwater is the story of one day. Set in a small holiday park of log cabins, deep in the Scottish hills, on the shores of a Loch. It is midsummer and it is raining. Raining relentlessly, set in, a constant drumming backdrop to the unfolding events of the day. The rain is fraying tempers, stretching the edges of tolerance, already tested by the late night parties of the Eastern European woman saying in one of the lodges.

Each cabin holds a family, each family has their own story, their own reason for being there. Within each lodge we find a microcosm, the story of a family, but also the story of individuals. There are many lives depicted here; it feels like there are seeds of many novels waiting to be written, nestled in the pages, beneath this rainy Scottish sky. But nothing about these snapshots, these glimpses of each life feels superficial or shallow. Nothing feels incomplete. On the contrary it all feels rich, textured, multilayered and tantalising.

Take for example Justine, mother and wife, walking early and slipping out to run, to find her escape from family life whatever it might cost. Or Josh and Millie, engaged and looking forward, but each pulling in slightly different directions. Or David and Mary, retired and veterans of the holiday park. Both ageing, but at different rates, both aware of but ignoring a growing problem in their lives. And the small inappropriately dressed girl, often seen alone at the edge of Loch, daughter of those who party late into the night. All of life it seems is trapped in theses lodges, bored teenagers , struggling mothers, wayward children, babies and misfits.

It is Sarah Moss’ particular skill that crafts beautifully observed, honest and authentic characters. Characters that live lives filled with dark humour and uncomfortable truths. It seems that people’s inner most thoughts are her speciality, particularly the thoughts of women. Her writing is precise, intuitive and relevant, presenting a series of portraits expertly drawn. Everyone’s strengths, flaws and frustrations are laid bare, all building towards the novel’s climax. Each portrait provides a critical layer of tension, a layer of depth and investment. So many times I felt myself move deeper into the story, sure I was reaching a pivotal moment of crisis or intrigue, but then the writing veered away, pulling me in a different direction, on to a climax I didn’t see coming.

Quite simply there is so much in this book. So much to digest and discuss, so many places the story and events could go. Moss is the master at painting complex authentic pictures in a small window. These are snapshots that get to the heart of a character, their thought feelings and preoccupations, some problems momentary and easily resolved, others deeper brewing and more threatening, maybe not yet fully realised.

Authentic is the word I keep returning to time and again. Sarah Moss gets it! Her detail is all so real, tangible and so beautifully observed.At a stroke she encapsulates a sense of time and place. I found myself nodding along as she conveys the nothingness of holidays with small children in the rain. Or that feeling of setting out on a run when your body is screaming and then it all clicks. Or that feeling of quietly lamenting the life before small children, whilst simultaneously being unable to let go of the day to day realities of life and unwind. All of this matters, all of this is real.

And throughout there is an under current, maybe more than an under current linked to Brexit and it impact. Woven neatly into the narrative, without being intrusive is evidence of the changing of attitudes. Lola, a confident bully of a child, tells Violetta, to go home, rehearsing the xenophobia rhetoric she has learnt from her father. Justine laments the choices that will be denied to her children. And the in antisocial behaviour of women in the cabin, much is made of her nationality, as if this will explain away her behaviour, as if this defines her.

I am a huge fan of Sarah Moss. I don’t even try to deny it. I love the way she doesn’t waste a word, the way she uses language to weave a web and trap you, all the while getting to heart of what she has to say. Summerwater is up there with the best of this year’s publications and this review is my own small way of banging it’s drum. If you haven’t read Sarah Moss before, please do. And if you have, Summerwater is another perfect stop off along the way.

Rachel x

Book review: The Confession by Jessie Burton

Sometimes a book creeps up on. You begin reading and you think it is one thing, and then quite suddenly you realise it is something quite different; something all together more complex and thought provoking.

This was exactly my experience with Jessie Burton’s The Confession, published September 2019, by Picador.

From the beginning this novel was absorbing and well plotted, and I was immediately entertained. But it wasn’t until the final third when the book ambushed me. The writing throughout is, as you would expect spectacular, but suddenly the book’s message crystallises, and this book moves to another level.

This is the story of two generations, told across two time periods; it is the story of a search for identify and roots.

Firstly, in the early 1980’s Elise Morceau, young, beautiful and but seemingly directionless, embarks upon a relationship with an older woman. Constance Holden, Connie, is a confident and successful writer. At the top of her game, Connie’s work is gaining international acclaim, and Hollywood beckons as her first novel is being made into a star studded film.

Following her lover to LA, Elise begins to question their relationship and importantly her own sense of identity. As events take a dramatic turn, Elsie’s life changes forever.

Thirty years later we met Rose, who has been brought up by her father; her mother having disappeared when she was just a baby. Finally her father begins to open up about her mother’s disappearance, telling Rose that Connie Holden was the last person to see her mother. Now in her thirties, Rose begins to question her own path through life and she has a renewed need to find out more about her past. Armed with her father’s fragmented memories she looks for a way to connect with Connie, who has cut herself off from the world.

It is clear that even in its own right the story is strong. The writing is sharp and insightful, there is just the right sense of urgency in relation to pace and tension. But it is the underlying questions and themes that book both embraces and raises that make this such an insightful and memorable read.

This a novel that questions our relationships and how they define us. It asks poignant and often difficult questions about the way we establish our own identity. Burton looks at the way we often rely on others to give us a sense of our own worth, and asks whether it is someone’s else’s responsibility to make us whole.

She examines relationships, highlighting both extreme highs and lows. She explores how her characters seem to cling to the familiar, and the need to be wanted even when things are falling apart. Each relationship within the novel is flawed, each is not an equal sum of it’s parts. We see the immediate and dramatic effect of cruelty and betrayal, but also the slow decline brought about by apathy and boredom.

There is a clear focus on the need to establish a sense of self. For Connie, this seems to be tied up with her writing, for Elise, ironically, she finds out more about her true values by taking on the role and persona of another.

Continuing the theme of self and identity, Burton tackles head on the theme of motherhood. Sometimes brutal in her honesty, she explores the idea that, on some level, a women’s identity is bound up in her sexuality and biology. She questions, for example, the assumption that all women have the capacity to be a ‘mother’. Or maybe that all women, should feel the social and personal pressure to mother.

It is often said of a woman that she is foolish to consider herself the mistress of her time. Her body had other plans. When it comes to children, people parrot, ‘there’s never a good time’ – but I would counter that with that with the truth that there can be a bad time, too. When it isn’t their own body and life – their own time – under discussion, people blithely generalize, even prioritize the myth of the perfect unborn over more complicated existences already here, now. It’s only those who have become mothers who might put their hand on your arm, and tell you, wait
The Confession- Jessie Burton – pg 438

Burton explores the idea of how effective can you be as a mother , shaping and nurturing the identify of another, if you don’t have a true sense of your own worth and identify. In fact how secure is any relationship where one individual is lost or unsure?

The messages and context of this book seemed to grow the more I read. I do believe that this is one of those books that will give up yet more secrets each time you read it. This one is a keeper.

Rachel x

Book Review: Saving Lucia by Anna Vaught

Sometimes a book arrives on the scene and it seems that everyone is talking about it. That is precisely what happened with Saving Lucia by Anna Vaught, Published by Bluemoose Books, this book was all over my Twitter feed for weeks. And as I have never coped well with feeling like I am missing out on something it was inevitable that a preorder was going in!

Saving Lucia begins with the narrative of two women, both incarcerated at St Andrew’s Hospital in Northampton. Both women are public figures; Lady Violet Gibson was sectioned after attempting to assassinate Mussolini, Lucia Joyce is the daughter of poet James Joyce, a talented dancer and artist in her own right.

Violet is approaching the end of her life. Virtually silent, she finds tranquility feeding the birds in the hospital grounds. She invites Lucia to join her, and begins to impart her story, her imaginings and her hopes for other women in their situation.

The birds that Violet attends to become a symbol of the women’s quest for freedom, for a voice and a way to transcend their confinement and redefine their lives and histories.

The narrative of Violet and Lucia swells to include two other women; Anna O, the first patient of psychoanalysis, restored here to her true, but forgotten name Bertha, and Blanche Wittmann, ‘Queen of the Hysterics’.

In recognition of all these women and their untold stories, the narrative breaks the boundaries of time and space, and the four women, each defined by Violet as a different bird, soar back into their pasts, beyond their ‘madness’. Here,connected through the ages by their experiences, they are given one more chance to change their lives forever.

This is a novel where the characters are very much at it’s heart. It is the experience, feelings and crucially the imagination of the four women that drive the narrative forward, and give the writing it’s depth and compelling nature. All these women have been confined, their very natures controlled and defined by someone else. Each bears the label of ‘madness’ and each has, in their own way, been silenced.

These women, by telling their stories and reshaping their lives, find their own truths. Through lyrical prose, heavy with a feeling of magic and transcendence, we embark on a mediation of what society has always defined as madness. We see what has happened to these women, what has lead them to this place; the emphasis is very much on who they have been and how life as brought them to where they are.

The prose of these women is non linear, but it is illuminating and insightful. This is their own self analysis. With an awareness and intelligence repeatedly lacking within their own carers and physicians, the women lay bare the facts of their lives and let the reader see how circumstance has shaped their choices, how events, emotions and other people have lead the women to where they are.

These stories challenge the definition of madness, both in the past and present. The women’s stories expose time and again the injustices and indignities suffered at the hands of others. How mental illness left these women at the mercy of their families and how once incarcerated it was practically impossible to reverse your diagnosis and control your lives.

This novel is quite simply a joy. Anna Vaught has taken these women and given them a fresh voice. By reframing their stories, she is bringing them and others like them to our attention and demanding they are heard. This is a beautiful piece of writing, and this is an important piece of writing. It is the chance to take these women to your heart, embrace their stories and learn from them.

It is the very best kind of writing and I thrilled to have discovered it.

Rachel x

You can purchase Saving Lucia by Anna Vaught from Bluemoose Books right here

Publication Day Review: A Registry of My Passage Upon the Earth – Daniel Mason

I am intrigued by short stories. I make no secret of my admiration for writers who can weave a spell in this particular way. I am always on the look out for well put together collections that show off the skills and diversity of an author. This collection, A Registry of My Passage Upon the Earth by Daniel Mason, published by Mantle is a stunning example of it’s genre. Heartfelt thanks go to Camilla Elworthy for my gifted copy.

Right from the beginning this books feels like a journey. It has the quality of a genuine collection, in the truest sense of the word. Opening it’s pages is like stepping into the beautifully curated museum of curios. Each chapter is flanked by a beautiful engraving and stories are presented with craft, care and love. Like exotic winged specimens within a case they will provoke so many emotions, but I guarantee you will be marvelling at the beauty that they possess.

From the first story; of the bare knuckle fighter, clawing his way through the ranks one bloody fight at a time; to the desperate and driven mother looking for the answers to her sudden’s debilitating illness, there is a sense of awe and wonder. A pervading sense of a world filled with secrets, a world of treasures and happenings still undiscovered, unexplained and unexplored.

Like a A Victorian specimen collector the reader is invited to travel through time and over distance. Each story holds its own miracle, it’s own way of questioning the world as we know it and it’s own way of imparting new knowledge and perspective. The human spirit of adventure and it’s thirst of knowledge drives us through the collection, pausing to appreciate the known and to push the boundaries of the unknown, one delightful story at a time.

Stories such as the tale of Alfred Russel Wallace and his communications to Darwin, Psammeticus I and the beginnings of psychological experimentation, all highlight humankind’s ongoing and instinctive search for truth. And crucially while as a species we explore the truth created around us, we all instinctively need to make our own to make a mark upon the earth.

This collection is a jewel. It has certainly made it’s mark on me. Time to get exploring.

Rachel x