Bush Meat by Mandy Sutter

 I really enjoyed this, beautiful storytelling.  FIVE STARS !

Bush Meat
by 

Mandy Sutter (Goodreads Author)

Sue's review

Sarah goes to Nigeria as a young child when her father, who works in petro-chemicals, is posted there. Sarah is intrigued by this different place and its different people, while her mother is afraid of not fitting in with the local ex-pat community. Sarah's father is distant, except when his daughter gets too close to the Nigerian 'servants'.

Later the family return to the UK and while their lives go on, this early experience continues to affect Sarah.

Told in a sequence of short stories, each complete as itself, the beautiful writing show this family's lives moving on in a normal, yet extraordinarily engaging way.

I really like this unusual book and, having lived a partially ex-pat childhood, I can empathise with the feelings of the characters and many of their circumstances.

Birdgirl: A Young Environmentalist Looks to the Skies in Search of a Better Future - book review

 This is an important book 

Birdgirl: A Young Environmentalist Looks to the Skies in Search of a Better Future
by 

Mya-Rose Craig (Goodreads Author)

Sue's review

Dec 21, 2023  ·  edit

bookshelves: biog-memoir, might-read again

This book may appear to be about a girl's love of birds, certainly there are a lot of birds in it, but Birdgirl is far more than that. The young author's parents and sister also love birds and in many ways this love cements the family group in times of stress, pain and illness.

The story is of a girl growing up with a permanently stressed father and a mother who has a serious mental illness. The coming of age happens when the girl finally realises that her mother will never be cured, but will always love her. And when she realises that her calling is to fight for the whole environment, not just for the birds.

And the family's passion for birding, for travelling to the far corners of the world to sit, still and calm for hours waiting for the right bird to appear, is vividly described. And their concentrated joy when the bird appears brings brings tears to the eye.

This is a lovely book, a girl's growing-up story, a tale of birding and mania, travel and depression, racism, sexism and radicalism, enchanting places and enduring friendships.

I felt above all it's a family story because without the love, passion and support of her parents, Mya-Rose Craig might be a much more ordinary young woman. She wouldn't have become who she is today.
Birdgirl is a good read so be patient, you don't need to totally share her passion for birds to find the story fascinating.

36,295 Words written and extract, Blue Lynx

 That number Kind of indicates that I may be half way through my current novel, which I started writing about 8 months ago, then had a three month hiatus but now getting back on track. Edited extract from the end of chapter 2 here - 

                                                            *

I didn’t throw anything, I slapped Rick’s self-satisfied, mocking face so hard it knocked him off balance. He grabbed my arm and began twisting it. In a second Andy was between us.

‘Get the fuck off her, dickhead,’ he gave his brother a shove and Rick retreated across the room. ‘Are you okay Mand?’ Andy pulled me close. Over his shoulder I could see Rik grimacing at me. A red mark was already appearing on his temple, with luck I had given him a black eye. It was small recompense, I knew the bastard was right. They never had paid me. Everything I’d done for the band over the last 20 years wasn’t really appreciated. Most of it probably hadn’t even been noticed, they just assumed that they deserved it and in the main the rock career of Blue Lynx had run fairly smoothly, like those beautiful swans on the river, only I was the one paddling furiously underneath.

*

After I saw that Rick’s announcement wasn’t challenged by the guys, although Andy did at least have the nous to look uncomfortable, I cleared the twins’ plates into the sink and they rushed upstairs to play Mario Cart. I went out to the barn. If only Andy had stuck up for me properly, instead of just pushing Rick away, I’d have almost welcomed one of his fights with his brother.  Maybe he thought a fistfight in our kitchen would upset me more, although it didn’t usually. I was used to the Brandon brothers brawling, I just didn’t want it in front of the kids.

Baker the cat miaowed a greeting from the top of a stack of four hay bales as I opened the barndoor and most of the chickens came up to greet me. I know it was only what my nan used to call cupboard love, but at least they needed me and appreciated what I did for them. I threw down a handful of grain from the bin and sat on a bale with chickens pecking around my feet.

One of the silkies didn’t come, she was sitting against the barn wall and looked as if she might be brooding some eggs. I felt a bit sorry for her, sitting on eggs that would never hatch. I’d sort of promised the kids that we might at least get a cockerel for the little silkies so they could hatch a few chicks without the possible problems a big Orpington rooster might cause. Then the silkie got up and came over to join the others, pecking up the remains of the grain. There weren’t any eggs where she’d been sitting, she was just having a lie-in. I decided there would definitely be no roosters, cockerels, whatever the correct word was. There were too many cocks around the place already.

Down to Earth by Andrew Crowther book review

Sue's Reviews > 

Down to Earth
by 

Andrew Crowther

Sue's review

Oct 13, 2023  

really liked it

bookshelves: novellas, sci-fi

Another Dystopia set in England during the 1950's, what is it about that just post war period which conjures up such ideas?

Anyway I enjoyed reading Down To Earth, which is not quite what it at first seems to be. The clues are there but easily misinterpreted.

No spoilers, the story begins with young Jenny Threadneedle beginning her career as a primary school teacher and ends with elderly journalist, Mr Thark, going in search of a library. 

A lot more can happen between these two events than you might expect!

Andrew Crowther's story is entertaining and well written without being wordy. Is this a novella or a short novel? I don't know if there are any rules.

National Poetry Day - a late offering

Pigeon 152 by Susan Gilbert 

While I’m out walking this fine day

it very gradually occurs to me

that everybody in the park looks the same  

There are the usual activities going on

people are pushing bikes and buggies

a pair snogging in the long grass

joggers are jogging by

a park person is planting petunias

but their faces are all the same.

They are all just humans

apart from their varied plumage

all the same

A withered human perched on a bench scatters corn for pigeons

The planting person is uncovering leatherjackets

three different types of earthworms 

suddenly hungry I move in           

BARKING            

big human with brown dog

big ugly dog       

BARKING

I spread my wings

glad to have wings

fly up into this tree

there are good branches

other pigeons perching

many beautiful pigeons.

Dog under tree

BARKING

I shit on dog

We Were Liars by E. Lockhart - book review

 

We Were Liars
by 

E. Lockhart (Goodreads Author)

Sue's reviews

Aug 15, 2023  ·  edit

really liked it

bookshelves: novels

A rather remarkable, engrossing story, almost a five star, it deserves a four and a half but the system is flawed, without nuance.

We Were Liars is a story of privilege and despair, from the mind of a fifteen year old girl named Cadence. Only the privileged can call their daughter Cadence, but her first name is the least of her problems. Her surname is Sinclair which is a much bigger issue.

The author remembers what it's like to be a teenager while too many adults don't, which is understandable. Being fifteen is not fun, you possess the body and urges of an adult yet you still have the self-restraint and understanding of a child. You get things wrong.

No spoilers, read the book.

Finding Dora Maar : An Artist, an Address Book, a Life by Brigitte Benkemoun, translated by Jody Gladding - Book Review

 Sue's Reviews 

Finding Dora Maar: An Artist, an Address Book, a Life
by 

Brigitte Benkemoun,

 

Jody Gladding (Translation)

Sue's review

Jul 05, 2023  ·  edit

really liked it

bookshelves: biog-memoir, art-history, art-and-artists

Fascinating book about the Surrealists in Paris especially photographer Dora Maar who knew them all. Her photographs are every bit as strange as the more contrived work of some of the others associated with the surrealist movement.

The fascinating thing about Brigitte Benkemoun's book is that it's based on a chance find at an online auction. She bought a used vintage diary and found Dora Maar's address book at the back. This happenstance is pure Surrealism, I love it.

As for the book, some great research has gone into the writing and I will definitely read it again.

A Cornish Odyssey by Axel Forrester - book review

 

 A Cornish Odyssey

A Cornish Odyssey (The Odyssey Books)
by 

Axel Forrester (Goodreads Author)

Sue's review

Jun 10, 2023  ·  edit

really liked it

bookshelves: funny, might-read-again, novellas

A small book I bought at the Hastings Bookfair, containing a very enjoyable story of pirates, chocolate cake, love and mermaids, all encountered on a life-changing walking holiday in Cornwall. I read it quickly, sitting outdoors on a June evening, swifts shrieking with joy over my head.
This is a lovely read, funny, moving and with a satisfying ending.

Auto da Fay - by Fay Weldon - review

 

Sue's Reviews > Auto Da Fay

Auto Da Fay
by 

Fay Weldon

Sue's review

May 30, 2023  ·  edit

really liked it

bookshelves: biog-memoir, non-fiction

Fluid, fluent and very readable memoir. Fay Weldon has never been a pretentious writer. Her work is always concise, not for her the 20 line sentence or the deliberate use of obscure or obsolete words and quotes.

She gives us her relationships rather than her career as a writer, though it soon becomes obvious how writing was always her destiny. It runs in her blood and her genes.

She gives us characters in the form of her father, a distant figure and her mother too often very present. Her doomed sister, her grandmother, her lovers, ghosts, husbands and friends abound. Most of the really important people are the women. The men are culturally dominant and usually unreliable, she shows the reasons for feminism before modern feminism began.

Her novels are mentioned, but in flash-forwards. Is there a second volume of this memoir?

Fay Weldon is now, in the 2020's, no longer such a fashionable writer but god is she important. Her death at the start of this year may, very sadly, mean her importance is forgotten.

David Attenborough's Life on Air: Memoirs of a Broadcaster - book review

 

Sue's review

May 2023  ·

liked it

bookshelves: animals, biog-memoir, environment, just-bought

I'm pleased I've read this. It's been very interesting to see how much David Attenborough has contributed to our cultural life over the past 60+ years, because it really is a lot and not all to do with wildlife and the natural world. Without him, BBC 2 may have never existed and certainly not in its diverse and eclectic form. This memoir tells us a lot more about him than we think we know.

Not absolutely the greatest memoir I've read but his style is engaging and in places very humorous. He does spend a lot of time naming everybody who he's ever worked with, which becomes tedious in places although I'm sure he does this for the right reason. He's pretty self-effacing and wants to make sure everyone else gets the credit due to them.

The man is justifiably a legend.
Thanks David!

Good Friday #Tennison 3 by Lynda La Plante - book review

 

Good Friday

Good Friday (Tennison, #3)
by 

Lynda La Plante

Sue's review

May 16, 2023  ·  edit

liked it

bookshelves: thrillers, mystery, novels

Half way through this - so far so mediocre. The plot is unfolding, the main character Jane Tennison is building but it's all a bit slow. Too much mundane detail, I'm sure this is to obscure the details which are relevant to the storyline but it's becoming tedious - no actually it became tedious before I was quarter of the way through. I shall keep going because it will get faster, it has to!

Okay I finished it, the finale was exciting and gripping. No spoilers.

However I do stand by what I said when I was half way through. Apart from the explosion at a tube station which was over in a flash, with not a huge amount of description, there was a level blandness with mundane description slowing the narrative down. I didn't need to be taken through the details of how to make spaghetti Bolognese! I could see that this was part of the author character building and distracting the reader with misleading information. But the fact that I could see it happening was a but off-putting. Shouldn't a write of the stature of Lynda La Plante disguise their technique a bit better?

I do admire her scripts and I know this is not the first of her Jane Tennison prequal books. I will read the others, hoping they will have more narrative action and less about ball gowns.

Reading in the Bath

 Lying in a warm bath, in my right hand my copy of Final Draft by Shelley Burbank - a brand-new novel just imported from the USA - and a glass of sauvignon-blanc in my left, should be sheer luxury. 

Certain facts could diminish these luxurious elements, in some people’s eyes. Starting at the top, the dated Artex ceiling and polystyrene coving are slowly parting company with each other and the plastered walls. The spider plant atop the bathroom cabinet has browning tips, its trailing babies are all brown and mama spider is calling, loudly, for water and light. 

There is the wash basin which doesn’t drain properly no doubt due to something grim lurking down in the U-bend.  The shower cubicle is slowly growing its own dark ecosystem, not helped by the charcoal soap somebody gave us for Christmas. Charcoal soap stains everything grey and is the ultimate gift that nobody needs, ever.  The 1970’s green wall tiles (every random 10-15th of them covered in ambiguous flowers) are detaching themselves from the walls and the corner I’ve painted to pretend it never was tiled doesn’t even convince me. Meanwhile the carpeted chipboard floor is slowly disintegrating just behind the toilet… who puts carpet in a bathroom…?

I'm well aware of all these negatives and I don’t care! I've always loved to read in the bath, whatever the state of the bathroom. Today I have this new book in the genre I’m currently into, detective fiction, written by an author I know, well we chat online.  And the book is immediately engaging, I’ve reached page 56 before I notice that the water is cooling down. I could chose to stay put, deplete the reservoir further and vastly increase the gas bill, but not tonight. 

Washing is in order. I’ve been gardening and don’t fancy sleeping with my pollenated, earthy and leaf mould dusted self.  There is an ingrained order to washing which does seem mostly logical. Around the eyes first, then the rest of the face. Next the hair, then moving down the body ending with cleaning between the toes. My grandmother would not approve of hair washing in the bath. 

In my grandparents household, time was an element to be obeyed. Getting up time, breakfast time, teeth-cleaning time, playtime, elevenses – a time by its very name. Then after lunchtime there was walk time, a march to the creek to feed the swans and ducks with rice, crusts and fly-walk. Teatime was followed by bath-time, with absolutely no reading. All ablutions were timed even more carefully than meals. Hair-washing-time was not the same as bath time. It involved a twice weekly ritual of standing on a stool bent double over the wash-basin while Granny poured enamel-mugfuls of warm water over my head and, inevitably, up my nose.  Grandfather even tried to control his bowel movements to a strict timetable, with pots of senna-pods stewing on the Aga every evening. Luckily he didn’t attempt this regimen on anyone else.

And now I'm clean. I still have 236 pages of this novel still to read. The writing is fresh, easy and engaging, the story intriguing and the protagonist identifiable. I have five more bath times to look forward to, before the pages start to sag in the moist heat. Luxury!

Coronation Trifle with Extra Ducks - flash fiction

Georgia watched the Maître D for the signal, wishing he would get on with it. Her gilded brass tray wasn’t light, with its load of sixteen cut glass dishes containing Coronation Trifle.

One of the waiters brushed past her headed for the kitchens. He was showing off with a huge stack of used plates and silverware balanced confidently on one hand. As the heavy swing door closed behind him there was a huge crash.

“Extra ducks!” With a click of fingers the Maître D summoned two waitresses who were clearing serving dishes and directed them toward the kitchens. He then waved peremptorily to Georgia to begin serving the desserts. She was only carrying enough trifles for the top banqueting table where the Mayor was seated. She then had to return to the kitchens for more.

Behind the swing doors, chaos reigned. An extra duck had slipped in spilled gravy and gashed her knees on broken crockery, the other duck was trying to stem the bleeding with her apron. 

Georgia sidled around the mess. It was being made still worse by the waiter who had caused it sweeping around with a broom already impregnated with duck skin, gravy and spinach. The floor was becoming a skating rink. The kitchen staff were ignoring everything, their shift was almost over.

Georgia could not possibly cross that floor carrying another heavy tray. She sat down and began eating Coronation Trifle.

The Eye of the Wind by Peter Scott - Book Review

 

The eye of the wind.
by 

Peter Markham Scott

Sue's review on Goodreads

Mar 11, 2023  ·  edit

shelves: animals, biog-memoir, non-fiction

This book belonged to my mother, or my father, not sure which. I quite enjoyed reading it despite a large part being taken up by Peter Scott's wartime experiences as a junior naval officer. His very detailed exploits are written with concise language, sometimes belying the excitement and tragedy of the events he describes.

Early in life Peter Scott's main claim to fame was as son of the ill-fated Antarctic explorer Captain Robert Falcon Scott. Before WW2 Peter was making a living as a painter of portraits and wildfowl and I was initially mostly interested in his art and relationship with wildlife and the countryside. He was also a very keen sailor, to Olympic standards and flew light aircraft and gliders. He gives the impression of a person who couldn't sit still for long.

There's no avoiding the fact that as a young man Peter Scott was a hunter who spent much of his 20's working out the best ways to trap and shoot animals, mainly wildfowl. However later this leopard changed his spots, realising eventually that he couldn't reconcile his love for birds, especially geese, with the activity of regularly slaughtering them. His understanding of the birds habits and experience of luring and trapping them were put to good use studying them, ringing them and in collecting live ones which eventually formed the foundation of the Wildfowl Trust flocks at Slimbridge, which he set up in the early 1950's.

I remember being taken there as a child to meet the geese, my father was a huge fan. I know that we met the ne-ne's or Hawiian geese, a species which Scott was certainly responsible for saving from extinction. So hunter or not, he was a great conservationist.