My physical health and Real Life (TM) are kicking my ass for the foreseeable future, so with a heavy heart I’ve taken the pile of books to be reviewed that have been sitting on my desk for far too long and filed them.
Normal service may or may not be resumed.
I will continue to post short drive-bys on Twitter (@jodireads)
I may live under a rock, but even I was aware of Gillian Flynn, though really only of Gone Girl, and the film didn’t inspire me to read the book. Recently the television adaptation of Sharp Objects popped up on one of my streaming services. I felt it got off to a slow start but the last half was binge-worthy and menacing and malevolent as all hell and I downloaded the book as soon as the last episode finished. My impressions of the book are therefore necessarily coloured by my having just watched the TV version.
Camille Preaker, a reporter on Chicago’s fourth largest newspaper, is sent by her editor to cover the murder of two pre-teen girls in her home town, Wind Gap, Missouri. Camille left Wind Gap to go to college and never returned, but her boss thinks people will talk to her because she’s local.
When she arrives, the second girl has disappeared but not yet been found. After an unpleasant homecoming, she finds that nobody wants to talk about events. Very shortly the body of the second victim is discovered. Camille strikes up a sort of friendship with the detective sent from Kansas City to investigate on the basis they’re the only “non-locals” around.
It soon turns out this trip is really bad for Camille – she self harms, and she drinks, as a direct result of her mother being emotionally abusive. In addition to the possibility that she might implode, there’s a real possibility that she might be getting too close to the killer, and her family could be literally as well as emotionally toxic.
This is a fairly short book (it was expanded to an 8 hour serial with the addition of several sub-plots) but it’s extremely effective. Wind Gap oozes menace. I could feel the heat and humidity and the barely-below-the-surface sense of hostility. I felt the dysfunctionality of Camille’s family as a cloying, oppressive thing.
I do read a lot of pulpy thrillers, but you don’t usually get this level of atmosphere, of sheer *wrongness* of people and places with this kind of book. I do recommend it.
Colin was a local writer but he died before I got involved with the Bristol SF&F scene. I have inevitably ended up with copies of his books.
In Winter Song Karl, a lone spacefarer, is fired on by a mystery ship and he has to land on the nearest inhabitable planet.
Inhabitable turns out to be a relative term – the planet was halfway terraformed before the Formers pulled out, leaving behind a population that originally came from Iceland, so they are a pretty hardy bunch. They have organised in the same way as medieval Icelandic society worked. (Harvey spent a lot of time in Iceland to do research; medieval Iceland is something I know a lot about and he doesn’t get anything egregiously wrong and anyway it’s a far-future analogue thereof).
It’s a precarious existence, and Karl is not entirely welcome, a state of affairs amplified by the fact that before he ejected, his ship’s consciousness downloaded into Karl’s brain, something it was never meant to do. Eventually things are worked out but in the early weeks Karl presents as having a split personality.
All he wants is to get off this rock and get back home to his family. To do this he has to trek across a hostile winter landscape to a ship which pre-dates the Icelandic colonists and hope that he can contact the outside world.
Even though this book has several of the sci-fi/fantasy tropes that I normally don’t get on with (mainly the travelling. So much travelling), I quite enjoyed this. The characters and the plot were engaging enough to keep me wanting to know what happened next, and there are some really fascinating concepts – the best of which is that where the Formers believed in terraforming planets, there was a rival faction which believed in adapting people to the planets they found.
The author was on Radio 4’s Start the Week when the book came out (some time ago). It sounded good and I was in the vicinity of a Foyle’s that happened to have it in stock.
It was being sold as the story of three Muslim women of different backgrounds studying at Oxford – a devout Muslim, a secular Muslim and one who had rejected religion.
It’s actually almost entirely about Peri, a woman from a lower middle class family in Istanbul. Her father is secular and her mother is religious. Peri falls somewhere in between but much closer to her father’s position. When she leaves for Oxford in 2000 secularism is still the default position in Turkey. The story is split between Istanbul in 2016 and Peri’s childhood and time at Oxford (2000-2002). We know that Peri didn’t finish her degree but came back to Turkey and got married, but not why.
The first person she meets in Oxford is Shirin, from the Iranian diaspora who has lived all her life in the West. Through Shirin she becomes fascinated by a charismatic and controversial professor who teaches a seminar on “God”. There is also Mona, a devout woman who is also a fierce feminist.
When the three decide to share a house together it does not go well, but there are external elements trying to stir up trouble, as well as the women’s clashing personalities.
There’s a lot going on here on top of the study of a somewhat typical for her time Turkish woman’s experience. The book is largely also about how Turkey has become more religious over the last 20 years. Anyone who has been in academia will recognise the professor who abuses his power and manipulates people, and the inevitable backlash (with some major overreaction thrown in).
I enjoyed the first half but kept finding that half an hour was quite enough to read at a time (that is usually only the case with me with non-fiction or something very difficult that I need to process). It does get a lot more gripping as Peri grows up and moves to Oxford, though.
This is another one like The Essex Serpent – I liked it very much, but I didn’t love it. I did like it more than The Essex Serpent – it was more engaging and it had the added bonus of broadening my horizons to look at a different culture, as well as something near to my own culture through outside eyes. I definitely recommend it.
A less well known work of Newman’s published in 1994 I picked up in a charity shop some years back.
Essentially, Faust for the 90s. Three young men sell their souls in 1978 and how it plays out over the years.
Not one of Newman’s better works. I mainly struggled because the three who made the pack have such similar names (it’s the punch line of how they came to be friends at school) that I couldn’t tell them apart. And everyone was dogpiling on people who were making money in the media, especially on cable TV, at the time, which as a newcomer to the UK I felt was unfair even then. (Because it was mostly bitching about people not knowing their place).
The demon figure is obviously, even then, a thinly veiled Rupert Murdoch who crawled out of the primordial ooze of the Thames. Obvious and deserved, but doesn’t really add anything to anything.
Usually if I collect books by an author I will keep even the occasional dud as I am a sad completist. This is actually going straight to the charity shop.
Despite the fact that I absolutely adore The Girl with all the Gifts and am in general a huge fan of Mike Carey, I kind of missed the publication of this novel set in the same world.
That’s a world where there’s been a plague which has affected almost all of humanity where a fungus basically turns people into zombies (“hungries”). In this, a team of scientists, including an autistic 15 year old boy, have been sent out from Beacon, where the remnants of humanity in Britain are gathered, to collect samples placed around Britain by a team that disappeared years earlier.
On top of contending with hungries, they don’t get along well, one of the scientists becomes pregnant in the first weeks of the mission, and their lives are being played with in a power struggle back at Beacon.
Like The Girl with all the Gifts, this is a zombie story that will scare the crap out of you (hungries are fast when they smell prey) but also give you a serious case of All The Feels. The characters are all complex, real people. I found this one took longer to get into (Melanie’s story grabbed me right from the start; in this case I think I was over-thinking where it fits in to what we know about this world).
If you haven’t, you should definitely read The Girl with all the Gifts. And when you have, you should read this.
Another one from the huge pile of unread local folklore books my parents sourced on their travels. Another one that wasn’t too bad – the author is a tour guide at Fort George near Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario who has led the fort’s ghost tours for many years, so it’s a collection of every spooky story associated with the place. Unfortunately he added a chapter at the end about general spooky stuff in the area so it lost focus.