Bookshelf
Nicholas and Alexandra, by Robert K Massie: With the future of Romanov Russia threatened by their son's haemophilia Nicholas and Alexandra turn to Rasputin, without whom 'there would have been no Lenin'. Gripping and detailed, we see world history hinge on a very human moment. Devoted to their faith, family and to each other, their personal qualities were ill-suited to their position as absolute rulers of a fading Empire that covered one-sixth of the world. Victims first of fate, then of illness and finally of bloody revolution.
On the Black Hill, by Bruce Chatwin: Lewis and Benjamin Jones, twins of Amos and Mary, farm 'The Vision' on the Welsh border beneath the Black Hill, maintaining a quiet, rural life amidst the upheavals of the 20th Century. Stuck with them on the farm, we delve deeply into the comedies and tragedies of the people, animals and places of their small, but richly characterised world. The tapestry of their life is deftly told with a simple lyricism, earthy colours and a bracing, unsentimental air.
Keep the Aspidistra Flying, by George Orwell: Gordon Comstock is disgusted by a world obsessed with money and determines to fight against it by living in poverty, whilst fulfilling his 'promise' as a poet. Discovering that you can't be free of money by being without it, his lonely and un-romantic struggle only brings him unhappiness. His stiff-necked pride forces him on, pushing away attempts to help him, but the appearance of someone to care for leads him to maturity and peace. One of the most painfully true books I have ever read.
One Day, by David Nicholls: On July 15th 1988, Emma and Dexter spend the night of their graduation together. They part tomorrow, but the book revisits them on the same date for the next fifteen years, tracing the highs and lows of their relationships, careers and hopes as they make their way in the world. Two characters who seem absolutely real, two lives that you can unnervingly relate to and an unexpectedly affecting final chapter.
Gweilo, by Martin Booth: In 1952, Martin Booth set sail for three years of expat life in Hong Kong. He remembers his explorations of the bright and darker sides to the City, his head of blond hair making him a symbol of good fortune to the locals, while he paints colourful portraits of his funny and adventurous sinophile mother and his humourless pedant of a father. Most children discover magic and adventure in books. Booth discovered them in the streets of Hong Kong and set them here as a memoir and epitaph.
The Complete Saki: The dark master of the short story scratches his pen across the face of respectable society, poisoning the afternoon tea with drops of acid from his inkwell. One moment the world is ordered, gay and bright – then a sinister cloud covers the sun. Endless parties are held on manicured lawns and suddenly Nature's gloves come off with a flash of claws. On the summer breeze is carried the whiff of gunpowder and in the dark corners of grand houses lurks death. The book is as vital, fizzy and delicious as fresh champagne, something that you could happily sip forever.
Anne Frank – The Diary of a Young Girl: On the one hand it's just the diary of a typically spirited and moody teenager, but it has become so much more. The extraordinary and dangerous circumstances in which Anne confided her feelings to her pages adds a tension and pathos that makes it timeless. On each page you connect with her humanity, her humour, her openness, her self-knowledge of being a 'little bundle of contradictions' and her hopes for a better world and a better life.
Vile Bodies, by Evelyn Waugh: The Bright Young People stampede through the inter-war years, rocking the establishment and titillating the gossip-hungry public with the most 'shy-making' details. Bored, rich, titled, carefree and heartless, they flutter like moths from one wild party to the next, while budding novelist Adam Fenwick-Symes struggles to amass enough cash to marry the beautiful Nina Blount. Bubbly, delightful, delicious.
Revolutionary Road, by Richard Yates: Frank and April Wheeler believe that they are worth more than their typical suburban surroundings and that they can still live the life they really want, along with the responsibilities of parenthood. Have they been cheated, or do they continue to cheat themselves? We helplessly watch events unfold, described by Yates with merciless clarity and painfully surgical precision.
On Chesil Beach, by Ian McEwan: "Sexual Intercourse began in 1963", wrote Philip Larkin. In 1962 newlyweds Edward and Florence face their long awaited wedding night. Edward is full of anticipation and anxiety. Florence is torn between matrimonial duty and a revulsion of what she has to submit to. The premise brings to mind "no sex please, we're British", but the ensuing tragedy is profound and painful.
Tales of the Unexpected, by Roald Dahl: A wine snob bets on the hand of his host's daughter. A woman believes that a stray cat is the reincarnation of Liszt. An unsuccessful man imagines himself to be the greatest composer. Can William keep an eye on Mary from beyond the grave? What is the Hitchiker's true profession? And what happened to Christopher Mulholland and Gregory Temple? Deceptively simple, endlessly intriguing and darkly funny, each Tale is an electric shock of sparky, sick and mischievous Dahl.
Picnic at Hanging Rock, by Joan Lindsay: On February 14th 1900, a party of proper English schoolgirls go to the Hanging Rock in the state of Victoria for a picnic. Four girls go off to explore. Only one comes back. Immortalised on screen, the deliciously simple question that hovers over Appleyard College sets the mind buzzing with questions as to what reallyhappened when the girls vanished into Australia's vast and ancient land.
The 8:55 to Baghdad, by Andrew Eames: Most of Agatha Christie's mysteries are set in well appointed English drawing rooms, but she lived a whole other life amid the heat and dust of Middle Eastern archaeological digs. Tracing a journey that she undertook alone in 1928 after a difficult divorce, Andrew Eames follows in her tracks aboard the fabulous and fabled Orient Express from London to the city of Ur in Iraq, where she met her second husband Max Mallowan. Meanwhile, the war clouds gather yet again over the battleground of Iraq.
A Single Man, by Christopher Isherwood: Each day for George is a cold factual reminder that Jim is dead. Another day means another day alone. Nothing left but to mark time until 'it' comes for him too. Still full of grief, George attempts to survive a single day, performing his usual tasks of teaching, visiting his friend Charley and raging against the fear and ignorance in the world. Then, the possibility of new love and life begins to stir…
Animal Farm, by George Orwell: "On my return from Spain, I thought of exposing the Soviet myth in a story that could be easily understood by almost anyone… One day I saw a little boy driving a huge carthorse along a narrow path, whipping it whenever it tried to turn. It struck me that if only such animals became aware of their strength, we should have no power over them." Orwell exposes Stalin and dreams of a home grown revolution through the simplicity of a barnyard fable.
The Claudius Novels, by Robert Graves: 'What groans beneath the Punic Curse and strangles in the strings of purse, before she mends must sicken worse. Her living mouth shall breed blue flies and maggots creep about her eyes, no man shall mark the day she dies… Ten years, fifty days and three Clau-Clau-Claudius shall given be a gift that all desire but he… But when he's dumb and no more here, nineteen-hundred year, or near, Clau-Clau-Claudius shall speak clear!' And Graves only wrote them to pay off a mortgage.
All Quiet on the Western Front, by Erich Maria Remarque: The author, a soldier in the Kaiser's army, describes some young German recruits struggling to survive on the Western Front. Disregarding politics, the intimate detail and matter-of-fact honesty make you experience the humdrum routine and bursts of action that constituted war for the the ordinary soldier, as well as creating a deeper sense of life and humanity battling to stay alight amid the mechanised onslaught of death.
The Book Against God, by James Wood: Meet Thomas Bunting – vicar's son, passionate atheist, struggling philosopher and chronic liar. His PhD remains unfinished, his marriage is on the rocks and his true beliefs remain secret from his smoothly Christian father. His one motivation is his atheist magnum opus; The Book Against God. His only defiance of his predicament are the lies he tells. Fizzing with ideas that flow fluently off the page, the book delivered little shocks of recognition, both pleasurable and disquieting, with each page.
The Last Temptation, by Nikos Kazantzakis: A re-imagining of the life and mission of Jesus of Nazareth and his mysterious dual nature; both human and divine. In the Gospels he is tempted to satisfy his hunger, test God's saving grace and to take possession of the world in return for worshipping the Devil. Here, for one instant on the cross, Kazantzakis offers the last temptation of love, marriage, children and family. Simple and homely lives are touched by awesome visions and unworldly spirits in a passionate and turbulent epic.
Horned Helmet, by Henry Treece: In Iceland, young Beorn is orphaned and sold into slavery to a cruel master. But a twist of fate finds him joining a shipload of Vikings and becoming adopted by the fearsome baresark Starkad. Though the Viking Age is almost over, Beorn joins his shipmates on their voyaging and raiding, learning to fight and to sing with their legendary ferocity and poetry. Pacey and ringing with the hard strength of the sagas, it has a Viking love of storytelling.
The Great Silence, by Juliet Nicolson: Between the silence of Armistice Day 1918 and the burial of the Unknown Soldier in 1920, Britain struggled to come to terms with four years of trauma, waking to the new realities of peace and bearing the loss of a generation. Grief found expression in Silence, but buried beneath was anger, hopelessness, expectation, yearning, resignation and hope. The author studies a nation in shock, from Queen Mary, Nancy Astor and Tom Mitford, to Vera Brittain, Siegfried Sassoon and Tommy Atkins.
Impossible Saints, by Michele Roberts: The fictional life of St. Josephine (inspired by Teresa of Avila) is told, along with fascinating and provocative re-tellings of the lives of other 'impossible saints', like St. Christina who danced with snakes and St. Barbara locked up in her tower. Heady with intense sensuality and exquisite holiness, the words seduce and grip like a vice. The book felt dangerous and forbidden, which of course made me read on.
No Signposts in the Sea, by Vita Sackville-West: Edmund, a journalist, discovers that he is soon to die and so he takes a voyage to an unknown land. Also on board is Laura, a widow he secretly loves. There are no signposts in this book. It floats on blue waves and warm breezes and as a literary holiday casts a spell as good as any real one. Yet there remains the all too real human pain of Edmund's hidden feelings for Laura. The author died a year after publication.
Twenty-Thousand Streets Under the Sky, by Patrick Hamilton: Bob, a barman in a '30's London pub, falls madly in love with Jenny, a prostitute. She leads him on, drives him crazy and ultimately hurts him, but she has a troubled story of her own; surviving in brutal, class-bound London and under seige from the pleasurable sleaze of drink and sex. Meanwhile, Bob's companion in toil and admirer, Ella, tries to repel the attentions of an older man. The book shares well-known emotions with power and humour; desire, embarrasment, devastation and self-delusion.
Kowloon Tong, by Paul Theroux: It is 1996 and not long until the 'Great Chinese Takeaway' in British Hong Kong. Resolutely British Betty Mullard and her son Neville (who has a secret addiction to local 'chicken' in the bars) have no reason to leave…yet. I'm fascinated by the lives of people who lived in former British colonies, how some recreated Blighty and how others became assimilated into their adopted homes. The sweet and sour tang of Hong Kong is crammed between the pages in this big Chinese meal of a book.
The Fatal Shore, by Robert Hughes: Commit a crime against private property in gin-soaked Georgian Britain and you could be sent 14,000 miles away to a vast and enigmatic netherworld, where the indigenous people had no such thing as private property. It's the story of how modern Australia came into being, sprung suddenly upon the unsuspecting land and built on the backs of the disgraced, exiled and unwanted people of Britain. Full of dark brutality and epic adventure and timeless in its exploration of society, crime and punishment.
Cider with Rosie, by Laurie Lee: A lost world, snug in its valley like an uncorked time capsule, reassembles itself through the author's luminous eyes. We catch a brief glimpse of lives unaltered in pace and rhythm for centuries, the grotesques and the beauties, his own larger-than-life mother and we follow him through the revelations of school and growing up, climaxing with his tender baptism into romance. But this is no mere nostalgia trip – murder, poverty, death, grief, madness, suicide, loneliness and abandonment bruise this crisp and juicy apple of a book.
The Virgin Suicides, by Jeffrey Eugenides: The dreamy, secretive world of tree-lined suburban America shimmers into view as a group of men assemble some scanty evidence to try and discover why the five beautiful teenage sisters that obsessed them committed suicide. Guided by an anonymous narrator, we peer through the twitching curtains and the dark glass of time to the mystery of the girls trapped in their home and the tragedy of their deaths, all effortlessly and exquisitely told.
Politically Correct Bedtime Stories, by James Finn Garner: Grandma beheads the woodcutter-person, a quick thinking peasant declares the Emperor to merely be endorsing a clothing-optional lifestyle, the Three Little Pigs set up a model socialist democracy, Rumplestiltskin regrets interfering with a woman's reproductive rights, the Three Goats Gruff are co-dependent, Rapunzel refuses to be exploited for capitalist gain, Cinderella opens a boutique, Goldilocks is a rogue biologist, the Seven Dwarfs forbid Snow White to wash out underwear in the sink, Chicken Little is going to sue the b*******, the Frog Prince is in real estate, the Giant smells the blood of an English-person and the Pied Piper clears Hamelin's unsightly caravan site.
The Discovery of Chocolate, by James Runcie: In 1518 Diego de Godoy travels in search of a unique treasure. At the court of Moctezuma he tastes chocolate for the first time and falls in love with the beautiful Ignacia. Before they are torn apart, she serves him a secret drink… and during the next four centuries the now apparently immortal Diego survives on his wits, his luck, his greyhound and his knowledge of chocolate. In this delicious and richly incidental story he serves mole sauce, invents Sachertorte, meets the Marquis de Sade, Mr. Fry, Mr. Hershey, Mr. Freud and Gertrude Stein, all the while looking for his one lost love.
Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, by Jeanette Winterson: In the industrial North West the faithful march on for Jesus and marching with them is Jeanette; handmaiden of the Lord, his gift to her Mother, destined to convert heathens in hot places. With her wide and watchful eyes she notices the detailed foibles and quirkiness of everything and everyone around her, telling all without inhibition and with disarming simplicity. When she meets the beautiful Melanie and they eat fruit from a forbidden tree, Jeanette is forced to choose between her ripening sexuality and her Mother's fervent religious beliefs.
Fatherland, by Robert Harris: 1964. Nazi Germany rules from Luxembourg to the Urals. Berlin displays the achievements of victory, but is plagued by terrorism. Hitler is given cause to celebrate as a new American deal appears. Old Nazi comrades are turning up dead. Xavier March, an SS detective under suspicion, is determined to find out why. With an American journalist he embarks on a mission that grows ever more deadly, for what links the dead men is a conference held at Wannsee in 1942…
City of Gold, by Peter Dickinson: The Bible tells many stories, but the authors had no reason to keep a reader guessing. In this book the stories of the Hebrew Bible are spoken in the immediate moment, not repeated from a written document and a chorus of voices are heard in Babylon, in Jerusalem, in villages, in the desert, in the fields, at weddings, on market days, in lessons, in songs, in work and in play. Told by old and young, high and low, rich and poor, we see how a people kept history, identity and faith alive through memory and storytelling.
The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame: A pastoral idyll is woven together with the good life and times of Edwardian England. Mole, Ratty, Badger and irrepressible Toad watch the seasons and the adventures they bring come and go, but remain content in the homes that sustain them. A restorative book, offering respite from the outside world.
The Ides of March, by Thornton Wilder: Opening this epistolary book plunges you into the teeming, luxurious and superstitious world of Ancient Rome in 45 B.C. Julius Caesar, Cleopatra, Cicero, Catullus, patricians, plebs and slaves seem to whisper at our elbows as they muse on life and death in their journals, send invitations to dinner, share the latest gossip, confess their deepest longings and send insulting notes by return messenger. Meanwhile, March 15th creeps ever closer…
The Penguin Book of First World War Poetry: The legacy of the Great War is all around us, from the political map of Europe, to the memorials in every village. Out of the unparalleled destruction came a unique collection of war poetry, where the sense of patriotism, horror, anger and despair is given a distinct, eloquent, ironic and honest form. To read them is to intimately connect with the experience of War and the combatants. “Let the foul scene proceed…”
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, by Mark Haddon: Christopher Boone, a fifteen-year-old boy with Asperger syndrome, wants to find out who killed the dog next door. In between his investigations we see how he solves the puzzles of the world around him, but this incident of the dog in the night-time will be his biggest and toughest puzzle yet, for he must encounter the mercurial, secretive and deceptive minds of the people around him in order to unmask the truth. His voice is unlike any other; detached, precise and innocently persuasive and though he might not show us empathy if we met him, we still empathise with him.
Wide Sargasso Sea, by Jean Rhys: Jamaica, after emancipation. The whites close ranks against the freed slaves, but Antoinette Cosway and her mother have no place to go, no side to join. A young Englishman offers some hope of belonging, but suspicion, betrayal and the past slowly poison their married idyll until Antoinette's mind crumbles and the only place left for her is the attic, with only Grace Poole for company…
