Imi

When I started this novel, I assumed the plot would revolve around the mystery of why and how Lydia had lost her life. But it ended up being so much more than that. Of course, the loss of a teenage daughter is a very important part of the Lee family's story, but the story explores many other struggles faced by the family both before and after Lydia's death. The structure is masterfully crafted, seamlessly shifting between the perspective of each family. This shift is not sectioned or structured between chapters, but can occur in the same paragraph, or sometimes even sentence, and incredibly never feels muddled or jarring. In this way the title, ‘Everything I Never Told You' is very fitting. The structure means everyone has a voice; their hopes, dreams and fears are clear for the reader to see, but the characters never speak about them out loud. This is what makes the novel all the more powerful and heart-wrenching. It would be difficult to consider any of the characters to be ‘in the wrong' or ‘to blame', because we as the reader have that understanding on why the characters have behaved as they do, but it's sadly easy to see how the misunderstandings and rifts within the family have appeared. I sped through this novel in just over a day, so overwhelmed by how beautiful the prose is and how moved I was by the family's situation. A really wonderful achievement for a debut novel.

I'm not really sure how to describe what I feel about this one. I really want to rate this higher, and in terms of enjoyment/quality of writing/the plot I probably should rate it higher.

The most intriguing part of the book involves the separation of Peter, the protagonist who has travelled to a distant planet as Christian missionary, with his wife Bea, who has remained on Earth. The sections devoted to the hardship of this long distance relationship and as a consequence the disintegration of the marriage is raw, heart-wrenching and beautifully done. I really felt for both of them as the couple's correspondence grows more and more anguished. This is really less a science fiction novel, than a study of human relationships. And I have to say, although it wasn't what I was expecting, I really liked that.

But, there is something that has left me with a bad after taste. That is the continuous, hard to miss racism/homophobia/sexism/ageism when describing the human (on the whole female) characters. If it hadn't been so blatantly obvious and so frequent, maybe I could have ignored it even if I still didn't like it, but as it is I found it distracting and frankly upsetting. Here are a few gems I found:

“She was heterosexual despite her butch appearance.”

“She had the sort of face that was beautiful only if she watched her diet and didn't get much older than she was now. As soon as age or over-indulgence filled out her cheeks and thickened her neck, even a little, she would cross a line from elfin allure into mannish homeliness.”

As someone who loves dystopian fiction, I was really expecting a lot more from this. The premise had a lot of potential. Set in the near future, a Facebook/Google/Amazon/etc. hybrid called The Circle has almost complete control in the internet age. The novel brings up many interesting and current questions. How important it to us who owns information about us? Would we prioritise our own privacy over convenience or even personal safety and national security? And how much of our activity on social media is simply a performance? What exactly do we gain (or lose) from being continuously online?

Unfortunately, I kept waiting for this potential to be realised, but it never happened. My major problem was characterisation. Every character felt completely one dimensional and flat, that I felt it difficult to relate with anybody. Each character was either completely approving of The Circle, or completely against it. This just felt unrealistic for me. I understand that the novel is meant to be a highly exaggerated satire, demonstrating how submissive we can all become in the shadows of giant corporations, but it felt clumsy and heavy-handed. SpoilerPerhaps Annie almost got there, as even though at the beginning she was completely for The Circle's strategy and could see its advantages, she did eventually start to think about the consequences. However, I found her so irritating at the start of the novel, that I still couldn't feel that much sympathy for her by the end. Plus she was mostly thinking about herself, she wouldn't have cared if anyone else had suffered the same fate.

Mae, the protagonist, was both irritating and completely incomprehensible. I just couldn't understand her, her motives, her relationships with the other characters, or just what was going on inside her head. Most of her speech is limited to responses to questions. Do you understand, Mae? I do. Does this make sense, Mae? It does. Do you agree, Mae? Yes. I should have made a tally of how often this kind of conversation happens, because it's all too frequent. Maybe it was a blessing though, because the few times Mae said more than that it was just to sprout idiotic rubbish. I get it, she's submissive and completely absorbed in The Circle's world, but there is only so many times I can read it.

I think the plot and overall set-up was reasonably good, but still I found myself unsatisfied with the ending. Again, I know this is a satire, but many events towards the end of the book were ridiculous or just downright silly, that again it very difficult for me to have any sympathy for anyone. The two events that come to mind are: Spoilerfirstly, the demise of Mercer, which I think was meant to be shocking and heartbreaking, but in reality was just so downright unbelievable and ridiculous, like watching a cartoon or something; and secondly, Mae not recognising the Ty, simply because he has grey hair and is not wearing glasses. Ty is someone she has idolised, watched videos of, she has heard his voice everywhere. Kalden is a man she slept with and has been desperate in finding his identity. How stupid would a person have to be to not realise they were the same man?!

Sadly, a disappointment overall.

This is an extraordinary novel, which tells the history of the Bosnia from the 16th century to the end of the First World War, through the perspective of one small town, Višegrad, and its bridge. The story is as much about the folklore and ideas of the people, as it is about their history. The tale of the building of the bridge becomes a legend, a story passed down from generation to generation. The bridge itself becomes a vital part of everyday life of the people, whether they are Muslim, Catholic, Orthodox Serb or Jewish. The history of the town is told through individual stories of a few residents of Višegrad. Through the centuries, the fate of the town is passed between the empires, from the Ottoman Empire to the Austro-Hungarians. Even with all this turmoil, life around and on the bridge remains remarkably unchanged. In short it is a bridge that, despite their differences, links all of the characters together.

A quick note about the translation. As I am studying Serbian/Croatian I would hope one day to read the original, which I'm sure will be better, but nevertheless I thought the translation was extremely well done. There were a few typos in the edition I was reading, but it flowed well and I could still appreciate how beautifully written the novel is.

All in all, I highly recommend this. It might be a little difficult to understand at points if you don't have any knowledge on the history of the region, but even so I'd still say this novel is a good introduction.

I might use the start of this review to let everyone know that you must read [b:Nicholas and Alexandra 133486 Nicholas and Alexandra Robert K. Massie https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1333577599s/133486.jpg 2453716] if you haven't already. You really must. Read that first and if you are interested in reading more then [b:The Romanovs: The Final Chapter 155206 The Romanovs The Final Chapter Robert K. Massie https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1333577585s/155206.jpg 149815] might be a good choice.If you are interested in the history and lives of the Romanovs, right up the last moments before their murder, then Nicholas and Alexandra is what you want to read. The Romanovs: The Final Chapter is not focused on the victims themselves, but on what happened after their murders. In many ways, it felt like accompaniment to Nicholas and Alexandra, as it continues exactly where that book left off.There is certainly a lot to cover concerning the decades after the murder: the contradiction between the all the lies told by the Soviets (who had been killed, whether there were any survivors, where were they now...), the discovery of (most of) the bodies, the forensic science surrounding case, the bickering, competition and arrogance in the scientific community, imposters claiming to be the missing members of the Imperial family and the desperate desire to believe them, battles in court over who has control over evidence and the disputes of the remaining Romanov family members over their future. All this is very interesting, and as expected from Massie, impeccably researched. But, I will say it again, if it is Russian history that you are interested in and you have no interest in forensic science or law then this book is not for you. I found it fascinating and sped through it just as fast as with Nicholas and Alexandra. I never realised how complicated the investigation into their deaths were and just how many people were involved. Saying that, I can see how some would be disappointed if they picked this up expecting more of a history focused on the Romanovs, because this isn't really the book for that. (Again, I'll say go read Nicholas and Alexandra).One final point: it was clear to me while reading this, of course through no fault of Massie's, that this book, published in 1995, is now slightly out of date. At the time of its publication, Alexei and one of his sisters (either Anastasia or Marie) were still missing and the rest of the family hadn't yet been given a proper burial. The story has clearly moved on since then, which made it a little strange to read this, which at times seemed to be attempt to give the story some closure. Not a huge issue, but definitely something to keep in mind whilst reading.

Sadly, this is not my favourite Atwood novel. The first half was better for me, as I could emphasise more with Elaine as a child than I could as an adult. Children can be cruel. The structure was interesting, as it shifts seamlessly between the past and present. The prose, strangely, as both books are quite different, reminded me more of [b:The Handmaid's Tale 38447 The Handmaid's Tale Margaret Atwood https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1294702760s/38447.jpg 1119185] than of any of Atwood's other work that I've read. It's quiet and slow, thoughtful and well... dreary. There are some good observations concerning childhood/life in general and some lyrical, touching moments. SpoilerThe event at the ravine and Elaine's imagination about her brother's final moments were both particularly heart wrenching. Unfortunately, in my opinion Elaine not was a strong enough character to carry a novel that is fairly thin plot wise. Still worth a read, especially if you're an Atwood fan, but maybe only if you're in the mood for a slow read. I'd say I enjoyed it, but have no stronger feelings than that.

This is probably one of the best non-fiction books I can remember reading. Simply outstanding. It's remarkable how Cullen and his editors have condensed 10 years of research and countless interviews into this detailed and informative, but also highly readable examination of the tragedy. Cullen reconstructs the events of 20th April 1990, which obviously is not easy to read but I think extremely well done, and he also explores events that took place both before and after the tragedy itself, to give an overall picture that answers many (but of course not all) of the how/why/who questions. This is not told in chronologically, as the account jumps between the day itself, preceding years and the aftermath. My favourite sections were the the chapters exploring how myths, inventions and assumptions made by media came to be taken as fact, and the chapter on psychopathy, which includes highly comprehensible explanations on psychopathy and uses this to analyse the reasoning behind the attack. Above all, I found this to be such a page-turner, no matter how horrifying the subject matter is. An excellent piece of journalism and a must-read for anyone interested in crime and the media's effect on our collective memory.

I got this audiobook edition for free and thought I might as well give it go, but this is the first time I've listened to an audiobook since I was very little and I don't really think the format really suits me. Nothing against Anthony Heald's reading, as he was very clear, but I just found it harder to focus and then found myself forgetting what had taken place in earlier chapters. Rating this 4 stars for now, but it could be higher honestly. I want to re-read it first, in a format that I prefer and would find easier to follow, before I make up my mind.

I really enjoyed this and overall think this looks like a very promising detective series. Like I so often do, I found myself debating whether this deserved 4 stars or I should just stick with 3. J.K. remains a fantastic story teller and brilliant with characters. Strike and Robin were a great team and I especially loved Robin. Her excitement at seeing the work of a detective was infectious. I hope that we'll see her character develop throughout the series and perhaps solving more of the mysteries herself. It was definitely a pleasant way to spend a few days with this book, but the book and its ending would have been a whole more satisfying if it hadn't fallen into the common trap of the detective novel, where it is the all-knowing detective who reveals how everything fits together and “whodunit”. It feels like many of the vital clues were purposely hidden by the author, so that the reader couldn't really work it out themselves and is completely dependent on a long sprawling explanation right at the end of the book. Saying that I was definitely suspicious of the perpetrator earlier before the reveal, I just felt the explanations of how and why came out of nowhere. We were told, not shown. This certainly happens quite often in this genre, but it does take the fun out of it a little bit.

This book took a really long time to get going. I wasn't invested in it at all until about half way through, but it was definitely worth it after I got to that point, when the story really began. After this point, the slow build up, chilling atmosphere, great characters and suspense really worked, and all this made the twists that more exciting. I was hooked and couldn't put the book down towards the end of the book! It surprised me how modern the book felt. I mean this as a compliment, as it was very readable. I kept forgetting that this was written in the 1930s.

My biggest disappointment is that I wish we found out more about Rebecca in the end. Even though the book is named after her, we learn very little about her and moreover I felt everything we did could not be trusted, because it was all from the opinions of other characters, all of which contradicted each other. This was great at first as it helped with the mystery of the story and made Rebecca such a fascinating character, but by the end I had so many burning questions...

I'll put some of these questions, along with some other thoughts, under a spoiler tag:
Spoiler- Why are Mr and Mrs de Winter (at least I assume it was Mr de Winter with the narrator) living in hotels, almost on the run (?), at the beginning of the book many years later after Maxim appears to be proven innocent? Was that ever fully explained?
- What happened after the fire? Was this all Mrs Davner's and Favell's doing? Did Frank, Clarice and the others make it out alive?
- Did anyone else think there is more to Maxim's reasons for the murder? His explanation didn't seem to justify it at all and I really felt there was something else going on...
- I thought it was really interesting that the name of the narrator is never revealed, but Rebecca's name is so important, even though we know so little about her. Does her name not matter? At first she is always overshadowed by Rebecca and after that she is desperate to be Mrs de Winter, completely as one with Maxim.
- I was kind of surprised the narrator didn't feel slightly more concerned about how her husband had murdered his first wife. I'd be terrified he would do the same to me...
- Is it strange that I want to know who the woman was who Maxim first identified as Rebecca?

It's rare that I find book difficult to put down, but at the same time so difficult to read. Into the Darkest Corner is the terrifying, brutal story of a violent and abusive relationship. At times the book made me feel physically ill and I had to take breaks, simply to stop my heart from racing. For this reason, I wouldn't recommend it for everyone, especially those who have experienced anything even slightly similar to what Cathy faced. But if you can keep going and make it to end you are rewarded with a brilliant, heart-wrenching book.

Even as disgusted as I was by much that happens, I was completely gripped. Every good thriller must be a page-turner and Haynes has certainly succeeded on that front with her debut novel. I was desperate for Cathy to find some form of escape and it is this that kept me reading.

Haynes did a fantastic job of structuring the novel so to place the reader in Cathy's perspective. The novel is told through alternating chapters between the past pre-trial Cathy in 2004 and present post-trial Cathy 4 years later. This effectively demonstrates the contrast with the carefree Cathy of the past, who flirts with Lee and enjoys life to the fullest, to the damaged Cathy of the present, who is constantly terrified by the memory of Lee and of the outside world around her. As Lee's manipulating and controlling tendencies escalate in 2004, we witness Cathy's continuing struggle to deal with this same past, as she suffers with paranoia and OCD, driven by a desperation to keep herself safe.

Called “such a fool” by her friends, when she tries to tell them how scared she is of Lee, Cathy is driven to blame herself, her parent's death, anything but the person who is really to blame for what she is put through: Lee. It was heartbreaking to read of Cathy's complete loss of trust of everyone around her and of her loss of hope that anyone will help her. I wanted to be the friend she hadn't had in 2004. In the present, Cathy meets Stuart, who seems to be that friend, but I found it really hard to trust him, to believe that he wouldn't eventually hurt Cathy in some way. Maybe that was just the book rubbing off on me, but I was terrified of Cathy's future and I so desperately wanted her to be able to move on and to have a somewhat happy life.

Cathy's story is one that really got to me. And although I can say it will be nice to read something even slightly happier, Cathy is an inspirational and brave character, who I am certain will stay with me for a long time to come.

I liked this enough that I would read the next in the series whenever it comes out and try some of the author's other work, but I don't think this was a great or very original mystery. There were some high points: I love the London setting, the protagonist Stevie, and the little details that Welsh adds to this setting and character. Unfortunately, the two overriding aspects of the plot, the virus that is taking thousands of lives and the mystery surrounding the death of Stevie's boyfriend, both fell flat for me.

The epidemic seemed way to remote at times and Stevie a little too disinterested in the supposed disaster that was gripping the capital. I get it, she is “immune”, but I don't think that means she's not in danger or would not have any concern for what was going on. I thought I should be a lot more horrified about the “sweats” than I was, but Welsh descriptions of the virus seemed almost tame, meaning I found this strand of the novel pretty underwhelming.

The mystery murder felt contrived and way too obvious, and unlike the virus I found Stevie too interested in it. Many of the characters pointed this out to her, that really with the city on the edge of collapse finding the culprit of the murder should not be her most pressing priority right now. I have to say I agree with them. There are two possible explanations given for Stevie's over-interest. Firstly, she is an ex-journalist and so has a constant urge to find truth and justice. This just doesn't ring true for me, as if this were the case I feel like she would have been more interested in the virus as well. Secondly, that she was deeply in love with Simon. Again this just doesn't work: for one she only knew Simon for 3 months and made it quite clear that the relationship wasn't all that serious (it was mainly about the sex, she didn't really know Simon at all and she couldn't see that much of a future for the relationship). I'm not saying that she wouldn't care at all about Simon's death, but it just seemed unnatural that Stevie would be so obsessed with solving the murder mystery immediately with everything else that was going on, which makes me think that as there are basically two disjointed “plots”, Welsh would have been better off keeping them separate and writing two different books.

SpoilerOn a slight side note, in the climax of the novel, this “great love” between Stevie and Simon is used as an explanation to why she survived the sweats. “‘There is a theory that believing yourself in love can subtly alter the chemical compounds of the body [...] It's possible that your love for Simon is a factor in why you're still alive.'” I can't decide whether this is a joke or not? It doesn't read like a joke to me, but if it's not then this is completely ridiculous, as I'm sure many more people would have survived the sweats if it was a simple as loving someone as much as or more than Stevie loved Simon.

I'm also confused about how both the title and the prologue (which I really liked and was waiting to be explained) fit in with the novel. Maybe this will become clearer later in the trilogy?

Reading through the other reviews here, it seems that many people had trouble getting into this book but found it better later on. Surprisingly, I felt the complete opposite. I'm on a bit of a historical fiction kick at the moment and at the beginning I loved Fox's detailed and atmospheric descriptions of 19th century London. The premise seemed great and the characters and their backgrounds were intriguing.

I loved everything about the twins, Elijah and Lily, their backgrounds, their relationships with each other and the other characters, and Lily was a good narrator. Augustus Lamb, Freddie Hall, Osbourne Black were also believable and interesting characters.

My biggest disappointment of the novel was Pearl, the second narrator. At first I quite liked her. She had her own voice, especially near the beginning when she was using a lot of brothel slang. However, this voice and the connection I had with her drifted away throughout the novel. Her only purpose seemed to be the nymph-girl, that everyone was obsessed with, or the victim. To me it felt like her character simply faded. Maybe this change was a direct result of what she went through, but if so, I feel like that could have made more clear or she should have regained her spark at certain points. I found myself, during the chapters narrated by Pearl, wishing that it was all narrated by Lily. Part of this might be due to how grim some of the events in Pearl's chapters are (such as Spoilerhow she was treated in the asylum), but I think mostly it was due to the fact that Pearl had less of a distinctive voice than Lily (or at least I felt that way).

My other issue with the novel, despite its great premise and Fox's obvious talent for story telling, was that a lot of the reveals, especially towards the end, felt contrived and unnecessary. Most the ending felt all too convenient and too easily wrapped up as well. Maybe I should be more content with the “happy” ending, but this seemed odd next to the darker parts of the novel.

This is an enjoyable read for those who love 19th century historical fiction by contemporary authors, but not one that I fell head over heels in love with. Ultimately though, Fox is clearly talented and there is a lot I like here, so I'll be interested in reading more of her work.

There is no doubt that this is enjoyable read and the idea of rebirth happening over and over again demonstrating the many possibilities in someone's life is brilliant. However, although it has absolutely everything that I love about detailed historical novels, novels that you can really get your teeth into, it is not a 5 star novel for me, no matter how much I wanted it to be.

The main issue I had was that I was much more invested in some of Ursula's “lives” than I was in others. I remember in one life Ursula (slight spoiler) Spoilerlives and has a family in Germany, but she spends a lot of time wishing she was back in Fox Corner. And I found myself thinking “I wish you were too”. Some of her lives, particularly as an adult, dragged for me and I found myself mourning for her past lives.

There are some fantastic characters, particularly her family at Fox Corner. My favourite characters would Ursula's parents Sylvie and Hugh, Izzie her aunt, Pamela her sister, Bridget the maid and Dr Kellet. But on the other hand there were many characters (especially the men in her life) that appeared in sometimes just one, sometimes in multiple lives, that I had little care for. Unfortunately, I think Ursula, even though she is the main character, was the weak link. I never felt like she had much personality compared with the rest of her family and never really connected with her. As it is Ursula that we follow through these multiple lives, this had a big impact on my enjoyment of the novel.

Ultimately, I was left feeling unsatisfied and frustrated by the narrative structure. Sometimes I was unsure whether an event happened in her current life or a previous one, and how much was the same in each life. Although Ursula makes decisions that allow her to avoid awful events that happened to her in previous lives, you can never feel completely satisfied as there is always something that Ursula could have done better and her lives will always end in the same way, a death that would not have had happened in different circumstances. Of course, that is life and you can never do everything right, but I was always wondering what all these alternative paths meant and lead to. Unfortunately, the ending did not clear that up for me and left me more confused than ever.

This must sound like a negative review, but I did enjoy this and these disappointments would not stop me from recommending it - I just think I can never feel more strongly about it than it being a “pleasant” read. I'd be interested in reading more by Kate Atkinson though, as she is definitely a good writer with some fantastic ideas, and I'd love to see if her other work has more of an impact on me. Any recommendations?

Told through very short (mostly less than a page) snippets and memories, this fictional memoir feels very personal and true. The lyrical prose and the glimpses into the narrator's life made this a quick, but fulfilling read. It's beautifully written and both the author and translator must be given credit for that. I love reading translated fiction that doesn't feel like it is translated, which has obviously been translated with so much care. The novel shifts from the past in Vietnam, on a boat immigrating due to the war, in a Malaysian refugee camp to the present in Quebec. The author explores many interesting ideas; the war itself, the loss of a country and its people, the struggle to settle into a new foreign country, and motherhood. However, I almost wish that the novel had focussed on a fewer number of these in greater depth. Probably due to the novel's short length and fragmented structure, I didn't feel there was enough depth to the characters and their stories to feel emotionally connected to them. Individually, each of the “stories” are beautiful and poignant, but overall the novel felt incomplete. Basically, I loved what was here, but I would have liked there to have been more. Still highly recommended though and I'd love to read anything else the author writes.

Goodreads tells me that I added The Crimson Petal and the White to my shelves in April 2011. That was when I bought a copy of the ebook (probably for a couple of quid at most) and since then it's sat ignored on my kindle. This is just one of those books that I know is there, but have no desire to actually pick up and read. Well, I'll get around to it one day.... Now I don't know how I am going to pick up my next book, as I'm still too immersed in this one. It seems odd to say that an 800+ book finished too quickly but, in this case, I sped through the pages in less than 5 days and didn't want it to end.

What makes this novel so brilliant is the fact that the experience of reading it was truly like travelling back in time to the 19th century. Faber's descriptions of Victorian London are detailed and haunting, but more than that, Faber cleverly uses the voice of a narrator, who takes us on a tour of the London's streets and into the most vulnerable moments of people's lives. Seeing the everyday lives of the characters unravel, shift and change brought up many interesting aspects of Victorian life: extreme poverty, limited access to sanitation and health care, views on gender, poor understanding on mental health and the social expectations of each social class. This is most definitely a character driven rather than a plot drive novel. I very rarely sympathise with characters in fiction so deeply and feel so sad about leaving them at the end of the book. This is not to say that they were “good” and right in their actions. In fact I'd say none of them were, but everything they thought and did was understandable. All the main characters (Sugar, Agnes, William, Henry, Emmeline, even Sophie) I felt went through their own character development, which is very rarely done for so many characters, and even the secondary characters (Caroline, Colonel Leek, Clara, Lady Bridgelow, Mrs Castaway etc.) were individual and detailed.

To add my point of view about the ending, which seems to be unpopular with many readers: SpoilerI was very satisfied with it. I felt it kept to the feel of the rest of the novel, that this was all just snippets of these individual's lives. There is no ending to the story, because whatever happens life goes on for better and for worse.

I think one of reasons I put off reading this for so long is that I was afraid that it would be a simple, dragged out romance. In fact, there was very little love between the characters. On the whole, most of the characters are simply looking out for themselves, trying to make their own lives better no matter how difficult that may be.

Often books this long can be rather intimating before they are started. Maybe it would have taken me even longer to get around to reading it, if I owned the physical door-stopper copy rather than a digital ebook. This novel, full of life and with not a single moment that drags or seems unnecessary, reminds me just how much that longer novels can be truly fantastic when you're completely immersed in their world.

I was a bit unsure on my 4 star rating, when I first finished this collection of short stories. This didn't feel like an entirely cohesive collection and some of the stories just didn't sit right with me. Some were too short to really have any impact and I preferred Logan's more fantastical, fairy tales to the slightly grittier, more realistic style of others (such as The Broken West).

But 2 weeks after reading this collection, some of these stories have really stuck with me, which must mean my rating is fair. These favourites (Coin-Operated Boys, Matryoshka, Origami, The Light Eater)are well written, disturbing and magical. Within only pages or even paragraphs, these stories manage to explore emotions and problems of modern life, relationships and sexuality through twisted fairy tales and fantastical scenarios. It has to be the mark of good a short story that I'm still thinking about them.

Shimura Kobo discovers that food has begun to go missing from his house. This is obviously disturbing, as he lives completely by himself and very rarely has visitors. Initially, Shimura seems satisfied with his solitude and way of life. He likes his routine, is proud of own space and keeps it tidy, enjoys eating the same food. However, this small disturbance in his own home and the discovery of who is behind it, causes Shimura to examine his own life. It becomes clear that he is not completely happy with how his life has turned out. This is an interesting study loneliness and unhappiness of ordinary people in modern life. Highly recommended as a short, fairly simple but moving novella, which has been well written (and translated), that can be easily read in a single sitting.

I've been meaning to write this review for a while, as it saddens me how few people have reviewed and rated The Knife Drawer, a novel about an extremely dysfunctional family, who have completely cut themselves off from the outside world. The story of their surreal and twisted world is told by many unusual voices, including the many mice that infest the abandoned rooms, the wild and flesh-hungry cutlery that live in the dining room, and even the old and broken house itself, distraught over the horrors that have been taking place within its own walls.

This is magical realism at its finest. Tarrant skilfully incorporates many issues of modern family life (isolation, favouritism, obsession, neglect, hatred and bitterness) with elements of the fantastical. It seems to me that the fantastical is used to show just how horrific the dark reality of this family is. As there is no way that I could ever describe how incredible Tarrant's use of language is, I will just pick out some quotes:

“A creature is pinned in time by sadness and houses are the tiredest, oldest, saddest things there are [...] The house was watching August unravel in sticky heat and overgrowth. Hours flickered by as it saw dandelions writhe on the lawn, exploding suddenly into seeds and fluff. The sun was soothing on its rough old hide, sore for a century with chisel wounds.”

“The sunrise flickers against the sky in shades of gore as the night is eaten away, scavenged clean by the circling rooks. The light is painful against window and roof-tile, for if there was any scrap of mercy in this old cold earth, the sun would not have risen again.”

Honestly, I could have opened the book to any page and picked out a quote as masterfully written as these. But I'll let you just read the book instead.

The only reason that I have not rated this 5 stars is that, without giving too much away, I felt that towards the end the story a certain event caused the novel to drift a little too far into fantasy. This is mostly just due to personal taste, as I enjoy magical realism to be firmly rooted in reality using the fantastical elements to heighten the story and atmosphere, which I felt was done perfectly for the majority of the novel. To me, 4 stars here mean a book I love, but has perhaps one or two things that I'd change if I could.

Still this one issue does not take away from the fact that every part of this disturbing novel is masterly executed and that it is one of my favourite reads of the year so far. I can only hope that more people discover it.

For now, I've only read two of the essays (‘Danilo Kiš: The Obligations of Form' and ‘Nabokov: On Parody'), but I really liked White's arguments and how he writes, so noting it down here as DNF so maybe I'll remember to read more of White's work in the future and perhaps more of this collection of essays. 

Disclaimer: Another book on the Siege, I've ended up only skimming.

An interesting concept, an exploration of the Siege through the diaries of Leningraders, but it lacked detail and certain events were left unmentioned. I think to get the most from this you'd have to already have a lot of background knowledge on the Siege and would need, simply, to fill in the blanks yourself. The introduction and conclusion were great, especially the focus on building the narrative and the reasons for the Leningrad Affair, but the main body of the book didn't work as well for me. I preferred how Writing the Siege of Leningrad: Womens' Diaries Memoirs and Documentary Prose presented diary entries, extracts in their complete form. Peri presents the diaries in a very different way, using them as evidence for his arguments in an essay style. Again, I was a little confused on what he chose to focus on and what he excluded, so I didn't gain as much from this as I had been hoping.

I feel like I should write a quick note to say I'm marking this as DNF and leaving it unrated, not because it's a bad book, but just because I've read plenty on the Siege already and only needed to skim certain chapters. This looks like a great account and introduction though if the siege is largely unknown to you. 

Oops. I've just noticed the next episode of this online has expired. I guess that makes this officially a DNF.

I was listening to the BBC Radio 4 abridged audio version. I thought it would be interesting to at least vaguely listen to and learn a bit more about Mary Shelley's life, having recently re-read Frankenstein and with it being the 200 year anniversary of its publication.

Honestly, it wasn't great and I think that's why I let it expire. I had listened to the first two 15min episodes (of 5), but was in no rush to continue. You'd be better off skimming Mary Shelley's Wikipedia page. It felt flat and dull, failing to capture my attention, and it just didn't have to be written that way. Yes, it's non fiction, a biography, but all of my favourite non fiction books are written fluidly and beautifully, and this is definitely important for the reader to get the most out of what they're learning. Indeed, I don't think I learned much anyway (not that I'm a Mary Shelley expert or anything!) and it felt more like a list of events. Worst of all, the audiobook narrator was terrible; she spoke in a way that sounded incredibly patronising and, for some reason, when reading out their letters etc., she decided to put on “voices” of people who had been really living. I could not understand that decision at all and it was awful. I found myself waiting for the “letter” or whatever it was to end so she'd stop with the voices.

In conclusion, I think this audiobook edition was not up to BBC Radio 4's usual standards, but I also don't feel the source book is that great. I won't be reading it in full and cannot recommend it to others. 

DNFed @ 28%. Uncomfortable to read being a book about rape, especially as it's apparently based on the author's own experience. So definitely a difficult subject to read about and I simply don't want to read more. I'm also finding the writing a little weak and unengaging. Of course this is difficult subject to write about well. Leaving unrated.

Despite owning this for years, I've decided I'm not going to read it in full. I've only skimmed it in parts so far, but I'm getting the sense that Moynahan may have been too taken in with the controversial claims made in Volkov's Testimony: The Memoirs (the so-called authorised memoirs of Shostakovich) and that makes me a feel a little uncomfortable. (See Laurel E. Fay's books and articles for more information on how the authenticity of these “memoirs” was never properly vetted). I've read plenty on these events anyway and doubt I'd gain too much more from this anyway.