Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
Showing posts with label France. Show all posts

Sun Damage - Sabine Durrant

 67%

06.09.24

Looks like a beach read, reads like literary fiction that happens to be both layered and fun. Not psychologically complex but vividly written, the claustrophobic south of France in August the strongest character of all.

Unravelling Oliver - Liz Nugent

 63%

02.03.24

Another distraction from the slog of Ordinary Monsters, this was deceptively engaging - it was only afterwards that I realised what a dark story it was. But then it wasn't particularly realistic or subtle - Oliver was such a pantomime villain and most of the other narrators were so 'nice' that their behaviour wasn't very convincing and 'what happened and why' wasn't very satisfying. But it was a good read.

The Truths and Triumphs of Grace Atherton - Anstey Harris

43%
16.01.20

If you want to annoy a copy editor (like me), assert in the very first sentence of your novel that putting an apostrophe before the word cello is correct and then use that distracting and archaic form throughout the book. Why not add to the irritation by throwing in a load of continuity errors and failing to fact check? And, if you want to annoy any reader, have a breathtakingly unsympathetic self-absorbed yet (oddly) not self-aware 'heroine' pining after a clearly useless lover for 250 pages. A triumph indeed.

Merivel: A man of his time - Rose Tremain

66%
07.09.16

Tremain's books are always varied - if you don't like one, there's always another completely different story to try. But here, unusually, is a sequel. I read Restoration years ago - before I started my reviews, it seems - and remember little but it didn't matter much. Merivel is such a vivid character, strangely sympathetic despite - or because of - his many flaws, and doing the best he can with the times and means given to him. It's both a tragic and hopeful book - much like Restoration, actually.

The Perfume Collector - Kathleen Tessaro

55%
23.01.13

I say I prefer literary fiction but the Booker shortlist remains unread on my shelves while I devour the chicklit I've won on Twitter. This was an uncorrected proof of a novel that hasn't yet been published so for once I'm at the cutting edge. The novel itself, not so much. The prose style is accomplished but the plot and characters a little confusing and inconsistent - for example, why does the main character not realise what's clear to the reader from the start? But she did have the same birthday as me, which illogically inclined me more favourably towards her, despite her 1950s upper class dialogue not quite ringing true. Good enough escapism.