A Book Blog 2024 by Books do Furnish a Room

[Books do furnish a room]

The Plains of Cement by Patrick Hamilton

“A silent, beastly moment if ever there was one, and not much improved by the opening of the door–this by a fellow wage-slave, dressed in the neat insignia of wage-slavery, a cap and apron, but not very friendly or understanding in her manners. Hidden rivalry and circumspection, rather than fellow-feeling, most often exists between wage-slave and wage-slave in circumstances such as these, possibly because of their sensitiveness to the dangerous surplus of willing wage-slaves on the market, and possibly because certain fortunate wage-slaves come to acquire some of the aloof and clannish airs of their lords above.”

This is the third part of the Twenty Thousand Streets under the Sky trilogy by Patrick Hamilton. It follows the story of the barmaid Ella. She is 28 and single and has the usual banter with the regulars. She has had feelings for her co-worker Bob, which she has kept secret. The focus of this story is a burgeoning relationship. One of the regulars, Mr Eccles. He invites Ella out and they start a relationship. The novel is from Ella’s point of view and we see things from her perspective:

"He had lost much of his self-consciousness, and talked less about her and more about himself - his likes and dislikes, his approvals and disapprovals - rather with an air of giving her a Short Course in himself for her present convenience and future reference."

Mr Eccles is over twenty years older than Ella and has some means. There’s a moment of realisation for her when she wonders if she would tolerate him without the money. Hamilton is good at the details of human life. He also has a telling turn of phrase:

"There is a great deal of the tomb in a bedroom; all passions, delights, scheming’s, ambitions, triumphs, must be taken back at night to these caves of cold arbitration."

Hamilton makes his main characters flawed but sympathetic. He captures a place and time: the underside of 1920s London. He chronicles the downbeat, the denizens of the rundown public houses, single rooms containing the lonely and the desperate. This one focuses on unrequited love and unsuitable suitors. No romantic love triangles here and love is bleak. The character of Ernest Eccles, the unsuitable suitor, is a grotesque, but again not totally unsympathetic. If bleak is your thing then you may like this.

7 and a half out of 10

Starting The Crow Eaters by Bapsi Sidhwa

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One Fine Day by Ian Marchant

This is the second book I have read by Ian Marchant and both are among my favourites of all time. Marchant was researching his family tree and discovered one of his ancestors in the eighteenth century kept a diary. Thom Marchant 1676-1728 was Ian’s 7x great grandfather and kept a detailed diary from 1714 to 1728. That was unusual in those times. Thom was a gentleman farmer, so there is a great deal about day to day farming life: the simple daily tasks, the costs of day to day tasks and articles. There is stuff about family, children and farm staff. There is also plenty about recreation (a great deal of drinking), including one of the earliest descriptions of a game of cricket.

Marchant traces his family back into the fifteenth century when he discovers they were immigrants from Belgium. They settled in Sussex from Belgium and brought a new iron smelting technique to the country. Marchant tells the story of his ancestors, but he also weaves it in with his own story. The book was researched just before lockdown in 2020. Just as lockdown started Marchant was diagnosed with prostate cancer of the terminal variety:

“not the good kind that you die with, but the bad kind that you probably die of”

 He is still alive and still receiving treatment, but this forms a backdrop to the book. Marchant is insatiably curious and follows all sorts of leads and concepts, it pretty much turns into a social history and commentary, then and now. There are detours about the measurement of time, the uses of dung (very good for feeding fish apparently), underwear (disposable, made of vegetable material; really, don’t ask), the development of the smallpox vaccine, iron production, turnips, Brexit and immigration, wigs (the best were made of human hair, all had nits), wig snatching (yes, it was a thing), the nature of eighteenth century alcohol, fishponds, travel and its problems and much more. This is really about England and Marchant’s perception of it then and now:

“… a boutique festival sort of place, an artisanal gin Michelin-starred pub, Airbnb Country Living place, a defanged, disenchanted landscape”.

Marchant also comments on political things. Ancestor Thom was a Jacobite, so that provides another aside. This means Thom was Tory and Marchant makes a trenchant comment about the current Conservative party:

“…there is precious little resemblance between the Conservative Party of Baldwin, MacMillan and Heath that my grandpop supported and the current gang of Ayn Rand fanboy libertarian accelerationists who have seized power both in this country and over the zombie corpse of their party.”

This is full of interesting stuff and Marchant is an interesting chap: writer, musician, ex-punk, diarist and a bit of a sage.

10 out of 10

Starting Fyneshade by Kate Griffin

[France]

I'd never heard of Ian Marchant but thanks to you I've gone beetling off to look up his books and add a couple to the wishlist. He sounds very much my cup of tea.

[Books do furnish a room]

I have loved both of his books that I have read France

A State of Freedom by Neel Mukherjee

“After all, we make ourselves according to the ideas we have of our possibilities.”

“Something about the urgency of the swarming and the indescribable sound that emanated from that swiftly engorging clot of people, a tense noise between buzzing and truculent murmuring, instantly transmitted the message that a disaster had occurred. Otherwise how else would the child have known to ask, ‘Baba, people running, look. What’s happening there?’ And how else could the driver have answered, mercifully in Hindi, ‘A man’s just fallen from the top of that building under construction. A labourer. Instant death, poor man.”

This is the first novel I have read by Mukherjee. It is a set of what seem like short stories, but they are all linked. Some of the minor players early on have their backstories explored later. This does lead towards some disjointedness. It is also a bit of a “state of the nation” novel as well. There are also echoes of a certain V S Naipaul here as well (remember In a Free State).  Displacement and migration have a role to play. This linking of disparate lives also reminded me of Dickens. Class, stratification and inequality are also significant. This is a pretty grim portrait of India. There is an interesting passage relating to a son of a middle class family who is visiting from Britain looking for someone in a slum:

“People were now looking at me. My discomfort escalated and it was not only because of the stares. Edicts from a middle-class upbringing on looking into other people’s lives through their open doors and windows combined with a liberal sensitivity, acquired later in life, about treating the poor as anthropological fieldwork or a tourist attraction, to produce a mixture of dread, guilt and self-loathing.”

The later tales are, if anything even bleaker and the grim and grinding nature of poverty take centre stage. Watch out for the Naipaul link in the fourth story (the incident with the cupboard). All this is possibly even more hopeless than Naipaul, who, for me, overshadows this too much and Naipaul’s infamous quote “Hate oppression, fear the oppressed” is writ large.

Here the only way out is to leave: the UK in one instance, Germany in another. Even the Maoists who might provide a way out, end up being another trap. Lives are heavily circumscribed. Personally I found the middle tale, the story of the training of a performing bear difficult to read. Sadly, I have to report, the bear didn’t eat its rather cruel owner.

Movement and migration take centre stage as well: not just to Europe or the US, but within India, to big cities, even into the jungle to join the guerrillas. Mukherjee has obviously been a part of that movement himself and there is a sense of being uprooted and looking back to a different way of life.

The whole is awkward in parts and its analysis is bleak. Freedom is generally achieved away from home and with dislocation comes trauma. There is no humour or conviviality and cruelty is ever present. There are plenty of critiques here, many of which I am sure hit home, but it does feel like that the only person in a state of freedom here is the writer, over in the UK.

6 out of 10

Starting The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles

[lunababymoonchild]

On 3/9/2024 at 3:21 PM, Books do furnish a room said:

 

Starting Fyneshade by Kate Griffin

May I suggest that you read the Acknowledgements at the end of the book? I found them very interesting (not all thank-yous, btw). I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did and look forward to your review.

Edited March 21 by lunababymoonchild

[Books do furnish a room]

Thanks Luna

Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne

“I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me; had they duly considered how much depended upon what they were then doing; that not only the production of a rational Being was concerned in it, but that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast of his mind;and, for aught they knew to the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house might take their turn from the humours and dispositions which were then uppermost: Had they duly weighed and considered all this, and proceeded accordingly, I am verily persuaded I should have made a quite different figure in the world, from that, in which the reader is likely to see me.”

Published in nine volumes between 1759 and 1765. A comic novel in the tradition of Rabalais and Cervantes, a modernist novel way before modernism and a stream of consciousness novel, or at least a precursor. Stene also uses lots of literary devices and plays with the narrative structure, moving things around, digressing and interrupting. The plot is non-traditional and there are periodically marbled and blank pages. Sterne also borrows from Robert Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy.

There are a limited number of main characters. Tristram is the narrator, although he isn’t born until well into the novel. His father Walter and his uncle Toby (an ex-soldier) are central as is Trim his corporal and servant. There is also Mrs Shandy, Walter’s wife, Yorick, the local parson (cue a fair number of Hamlet jokes) and Dr Slop.

Sterne himself was born in 1713 in Ireland, but became a parson near York. Dr Johnson didn’t think the work would last, but it has and has many and varied fans. Nietzsche said of the novel:

“he produces in the right reader a feeling of uncertainty as to whether one is walking, standing or lying: a feeling that is closely related to floating”

Others influenced by this include Woolf, Joyce and Pynchon (!!). Sterne was also an abolitionist and there are occasional references in the book.

The novel is certainly an acquired taste and many find it tedious and Sterne certainly does not spare the words:

“I define a nose as follows – entreating only beforehand, and beseeching my readers, both male and female, of what age, complexion, and condition soever, for the love of God and their own souls, to guard against the temptations and suggestions of the devil, and suffer him by no art of wile to put any other ideas into their minds, than what I put into my definition – for by the word Nose, throughout all this long chapter of noses, and in every other part of my work, where the word Nose occurs – I declare, by that word I mean a nose, and nothing more, nothing less.”

I enjoyed this, but I can’t say I was passionate about it and it’s certainly an acquired taste.

7 out of 10

Starting Travels with a Donkey by R L Stevenson

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Travels with a Donkey R L Stevenson

“I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move.”

In which Robert Louis Stevenson travels around the Cevennes district of France in late September 1877 for twelve days, describing what he saw and those he met. He also travelled with a donkey called Modestine, who carried all his stuff. This was an area of France where the Huguenots dwelt and even when Stevenson was there, religious tensions still existed.

This is known for Stevenson’s descriptions of nature and the countryside and his observations of the local population including a Trappist monastery, some inns, a few peasant dwellings, assorted travellers, some Protestants (but mostly Catholics) and various others.   

This is well regarded generally and there are certainly interesting parts and passages. For me they were overwhelmed by other things. Stevenson was unhappy at the time as a woman he cared for went to the US without him. It shows. There are other issues.

Animal cruelty, more specifically, the donkey her purchased. I became so irritated with the cruelty I wrote them down:

“I must instantly maltreat this uncomplaining animal. The sound of my own blows sickened me.”

Finding a stick hard work:

“My arm ached like toothache from perpetual beating.”

Stevenson has a peasant make him a goad; a stick with a sharp metallic point on the end:

“Thither, with infinite trouble, I goaded and kicked the reluctant Modestine, and there I hastened to unload her.”

The goad could draw blood.

“I am ashamed to say, struck the poor sinner twice across the face. It was pitiful to see her lift her head with shut eyes, as if waiting for another blow.”

There’s plenty more in the same vein.

If I was being kind I would say that his attitudes to women were “of the time”

“And Clarisse? What shall I say of Clarisse? She waited the table with a heavy placable nonchalance, like a performing cow.”

There is more in the same vein. He isn’t over keen on children and dogs either and some of his descriptions of female children would be better applied to women of an older age.

I don’t seem to have much luck with travel literature (apart from Patrick Leigh Fermor), and this was no exception.

3 out of 10

Starting The Diary of a Young Lady of Fashion 1764-1765 by Magdalen King-Hall

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Fyneshade by Kate Griffin

“Many would find much to fear in Fyneshade’s dark and crumbling corridors, its unseen master and silent servants. But not I. For they have far more to fear from me”

Another slice of Victorian gothic, set in the 1840s. This has a large crumbling mansion with secret passages, locked rooms and possibly a ghost. There is, of course, a governess at the centre of it, some surly servants, a missing master, a wayward and dangerous son, some herbal shenanigans, dodgy narrators, a mysterious child (in this incarnation with a learning disability), seduction, twists and turns, betrayal, loveable dog and plenty of architecture. There are definite shades of Jane Eyre, The Secret Garden and The Turn of the Screw. In actuality it much more Vanity Fair than Jane Eyre and the narrator/governess is no shrinking violet. Griffin does a good job of trying to make a rather evil antagonist into a likeable protagonist. Most of the gothic tropes are here, but there’s also a touch of Hammer Horror as well

There is a significant twist at the end: it is an easy one to spot, but the second twist is a little more hidden. It is all very atmospheric and it does make a change to have the main female character not being the put upon heroine. The child is used by everyone. There is an afterword which is best not read at the beginning. As gothic goes this is ok and there’s plenty of tropes to spot.

7 out of 10

Starting Luckenbooth by Jenni Fagan

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The diary of a young lady of fashion 1764-5 by Magdalen King-Hall

I picked this up in a job lot of books at an auction over ten years ago. It’s a rather slim folio book from 1982. Initially I thought it was an eighteenth century diary, but it isn’t. It was published in 1924 under the pseudonym Cleone Knox. The actual author was Magdalen King-Hall. She was nineteen at the time. The diary describes the adventures of an Irish girl being taken on a Grand Tour, mainly to escape the amorous attentions of a local beau.

The diaries caused a sensation and managed to fool a number of experts for a while. A High Court Judge, Lord Darling, called his review “A Girl Pepys”. There were other journalists who did work out that it was fiction. Magdalen King-Hall was the daughter of an admiral, who wrote this because she was bored. She only had her own reading and her local library to help (a good advert for local libraries).

It was widely read at the time. Some spotted that the language was too modern and rather frank for the time. The truth did come out, but it has sometimes been forgotten. The BBC managed in the 1980s and 1994 to broadcast readings from the diary and a dramatized version on the assumption they were from the eighteenth century.

The diary itself is fairly frivolous with lots of fashion and flirtation and a bit of religion. It’s an interesting 1920s period piece and reminded me a little of the Bruno Hat hoax.

6 out of 10

Starting The Call of the Wild by Jack London

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The Call of the Wild by Jack London

“Deep in the forest a call was sounding, and as often as he heard this call, mysteriously thrilling and luring, he felt compelled to turn his back upon the fire and the beaten earth around it, and to plunge into the forest, and on and on, he knew not where or why; nor did he wonder where or why, the call sounding imperiously, deep in the forest.”

This is another of those novels (well, novella actually) that I should have read as a teenager but didn’t. It’s on most of the must read lists including the Guardian’s 100 greatest books of all time (number 35). It was published in 1903 and is set during the Klondike gold rush of the 1890s. It is about a sled dog called Buck from his early life in California and then his life pulling a sled. It’s basically a life history. London went to the Klondike during the gold rush and so was writing from a level of experience.

This isn’t a sweet cute animal story, it’s pretty brutal and very definitely an adventure story. It covers a number of genres including naturalism and there is very much an element of the survival of the fittest. There is also a sense of the awakening of the primitive and that civilisation and domesticity is a very thin veneer. Buck’s dreams even begin to go back to primitive times and ancestral memories.

“He was a killer, a thing that preyed, living on the things that lived, unaided, alone, by virtue of his own strength and prowess, surviving triumphantly in a hostile environment where only the strong survive.”

There have been plenty of film adaptations. One with Clark Gable and another with Charlton Heston.

There’s plenty of nature vs nurture. There’s also plenty of racism in the portrayal of the Native Americans. As for the only female character …. One reviewer referred to it as “Shakespeare with puppies” which I found amusing.

London was a socialist and some have called this a socialist fable. I do struggle with that idea and actually Orwell’s analysis of London resonates more with me:

“But temperamentally he was very different from the majority of Marxists. With his love of violence and physical strength, his belief in 'natural aristocracy', his animal-worship and exaltation of the primitive, he had in him what one might fairly call a Fascist strain.”

On the whole this didn’t resonate with me. It is vivid and well written, but it is brutal with its focus on the survival of the fittest and its attitude towards the weak and vulnerable.

5 out of 10

Starting Every Man for Himself by Beryl Bainbridge

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The Curate's Wife by E H Young

“She cried without tears while she undressed. She found the loneliness of trouble in marriage greater than its joy when all went well, for happiness need not be concealed. The success of marriage calls for proclamation, its failure must not be acknowledged and now she could not creep into Jenny’s bed, as she wished to do, and warm herself and find comfort in a love that needed no explanation.”

This is a sequel to E H Young’s earlier novel Jenny Wren, about two sisters Jenny and Dahlia. This one focuses on Dahlia Rendall who has just married the curate Cecil Sproat. There follows an analysis of a marriage and of two people who don’t know each other that well attempting to live together. There is also a comparison with another marriage: Rev Doubleday and his wife. It’s really a study of character. The only really happy couple Louisa and her new husband Mr Grimshaw (Jenny and Dahlia’s mother), who is, of course, from the wrong side of the tracks. As is often the case there is very little plot and not a great deal happens. Young is pretty good at characterisation and all of the characters have depth.  

As usual with Young the novel is set in Bristol (renamed Radstowe) and this one is in Upper Radstowe (Clifton). The Church in the novel can be identified as Christchurch Clifton. One of the points Young is clearly making is that the main female characters are clearly all intelligent and all completely frustrated with no real role in life. It’s all about the repression of talent and lack of purpose.

There’s one example of rather lazy racism and the whole does feel like a bit of middle class navel gazing, but it is of interest.

6 out of 10

Starting Sing me who you are by Elizabeth Berridge

 

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The Crow Eaters by Bapsi Sidhwa

I haven’t read enough novels based in Pakistan and I haven’t read Sidhwa before either. It is set in Lahore and covers just almost fifty years from just before the start of the twentieth century until just before partition. Sidhwa is a Parsi and the novel focuses on the Parsi community in Lahore. Sidhwa was born in Karachi and brought up in Lahore, so she is writing about an area she knows and a community she knows. The reception of the novel was mixed, especially in the Parsi community, but over time it has become accepted.

At the centre of the novel is Faredoon (Freddy) Junglewalla and his family which consists of his wife Putli, his mother-in-law Jerbanoo and his three children. This is a family chronicle with Freddy at centre stage, especially his relationship with his mother-in-law which is fiery and unpredictable. Although the idiosyncrasies of his children also begin to be more prominent as the novel progresses. Freddy is a successful businessman and has relationships with the Hindu, Muslim, Sikh and British communities.

This is essentially a comic novel, but with elements of tragedy as well. A good deal of the comic interplay is between Freddy and Jerbanoo. For me the comic element was a little trying and sometimes became a little too central and overpowering. For me there was too little societal context. It’s a bit vaudeville at times. I didn’t dislike this and it was entertaining. I suppose I am just a bit underwhelmed.

6 out of 10

Starting Heresy by S J Parris

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Luckenbooth by Jenni Fagan

“Whilst I complain about Edinburgh, I like it here really. They say that makes me dour, it’s Scottish for miserable 'person of dubious parentage'. They gave a single word in a Gaelic that means ‘my eternal doom is upon me’, I can’t remember it right now. They are an old nation. They have a great wit at times. They need it to survive the damn weather.”

 

This is something of an odd one, it is set in Edinburgh over about ninety years from the early 1900s to the 1990s. It is actually set in one particular tenement the nine storey number 10 Luckenbooth Close. The novel structure is quite complex. It is split into three parts. The first third runs around the years 1910 to the late 1930s. The second part runs from 1944 to 1963. The third part is from 1977 to 1999. Each part relates to three different residents/visitors of number 10. Each part is also split into nine parts, three for each person, the run A B C, A B C, A B C. This makes the whole feel rather disjointed and this has been one of the criticisms of the novel. There is some justification for this as it is difficult to follow at times. It does feel like  group of short stories at times.

There is though a colourful set of characters, some of them cropping up in more than one time period. There are elements of the supernatural, ghosts if you will, as well as the devil’s daughter. There are also prostitutes, gangsters, a property speculator, triads, a medium, a parrot, William Burroughs (yes, that William Burroughs), assorted gender and sexuality variants (including transgender), abused women, a black male from Louisiana who works with bones at the Royal School of Veterinary Studies, drug addicts, drug dealers, an ex-miner allergic to light. The cast list is pretty extensive. Fagan does manage to tie the whole together pretty well.

It’s pretty bleak at times but Fagan does introduce a vein of humour as well:

 

“My ma said: only love a man who reads books and understands them properly. If they don't read books don't go their bed. Ever!”

 

The novel looks at the marginalised and oppressed, those at the edges of society because of mental health, sexuality, gender or class. It’s about power and its use.

 

“There is the Edinburgh that is presented to tourists. Then the other one, which is considered to be the real Edinburgh, to the people who live here. There are the fancy hotels and shops and motorcars and trams and places of work, then are the slums, starvation, disease, addiction, prostitution, crime, little or no infrastructure, no plumbing, no clean water, no rights . . . if the council want to go and take their homes down, they do. This is all on streets just ten minutes’ walk from the fancy city centre. When will these things change? Everywhere? When? All fur coat and nae knickers. That’s a phrase the postman told me. It embodies this city.”

 

There is humanity within it all and warmth, but, of course, the city is a major character as well. This definitely has a gothic edge to it. There is great variety in all of this; inevitably some parts work better than others and the inclusion of William Burroughs I didn’t find convincing. However, on the whole, I did enjoy this and liked the slant that Fagan put on things.

7 and a half out of 10

Starting Heresy by S J Parris

 

[lunababymoonchild]

Just bought this as it's right up my street and it'll make a change from the Edinburgh that Rebus knows - new one out later this year - and it fits in with the current group read (and it was only 99p for the Kindle version!)

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Sing me who you are by Elizabeth Berridge

This has been republished in the British Library women writers series and was originally published in 1967. Elizabeth Berridge wrote novels and short stories and reviewed books. This is set in the mid-1960s and the main protagonist is Harriet (Harry), a late 30s single librarian. Her aunt leaves her an old bus. The bus is sat in a field on the Uplands estate in rural Cambridgeshire owned by her cousin Magda and her husband Gregg. Harry decides to give up her job and move into the bus with her two Siamese cats and all her worldly goods. This is about change and this is the 1960s after all: The Times they are a Changin! There are a number of themes, housing and the need to build new houses as opposed to preserving the countryside. This was a time when the government did build houses. The effects of the war, which was only twenty years away and the young men who fought in it now in their late thirties and forties; many still suffering PTSD. More surprising for the time Ecology and environmental issues are explored as well. Berridge also explores the tensions between Magda (a landowner and local politician) and Harry who is effectively a tenant.

Berridge writes with a comic touch, but there is sadness there too. Even some of the most comic moments have an edge to them:

 

“Harriet’s mother had died in the middle of Hymn No. 270 (Ancient and Modern). Her high, tuneless soprano had stopped abruptly and she had dropped forward over the back of the pew in front, hymnbook still open in her hand. Her peppermints, gloves and collection money (two sixpenny pieces, to make a modest jingle) had dropped off the shelf and rolled out into the aisle. Her chin had hit the wood, and her shiny straw hat, a new one, was jerked forward violently over her reading-glasses. All around the singing had grown ragged, heads turned. Harriet looked up the hymn afterwards, to wring some significance from it. Her mother had died with the words ‘panoply of God’ strongly on her lips. Maybe it was God’s way of whispering a private word in her ear. She deserved it at the end of a hard-working, undistinguished life; a life, Harriet had often thought of as idiotically devoted to others. Surely this God she had sung to so vigorously for so many years could give her some comfort?”

 

There ae some interesting characters and the trauma of the war runs deep. The concern for the environment is perhaps a surprise, but a welcome one. Harry is a bit of a lost soul looking for a purpose. There is a strong sense of place as well and a connectedness to nature:

 

“All the same Harriet stopped and looked over to the right, where the long curving lake was outlined by rising mist and the bamboo plantations marched along the far end. From the water came the heavy smell of autumn and she knew without moving a step that the flat leathery water-lily leaves quilted the lake, with drifts of wild plum and willow leaves for stitching. Aunt Esther had always loved to watch these changing colours. She had made, years ago, a patchwork bedcover, matching the silks and velvets to the faded tapestry colours of the tough water-lily leaves, the brilliant drifts of red plum, the frail yellow hair of willow.”

This is certainly a novel that deserves to be republished, tinged with hope and regret. It’s an good character study which takes some interesting directions.

7and a half out of 10

Starting Testament of Friendship by Vera Brittain

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Salvation Lost by Peer Hamilton

“Humans are so fascinating, aren’t we? If ten of us are each given our own piano, we’ll play eleven different tunes.”

 

This is the second part of Hamilton’s Salvation trilogy. This one picks up where the last one left off, with many of the same characters and a sprinkling of new ones. The world building is still good and the technology mind-boggling. The alien threat continues to grow and deepen. The flashback sections are gone and we move between the present and the ongoing fight in the distant future. Compared to some of Hamilton’s output this is slim, just under five hundred pages. You do have to read the first part to make any sense of this. There are plenty of traps, twists and surprises.

Hamilton does like to slip in his political points as well, something I have no objection to:

 

“But all we have now is rule by rich people, the ones who keep ninety percent of the world in relative poverty so their unbalanced market can continue paying for a lifestyle of total excess.”

 

“Titles that distinguish us by class devalue people as much as racial classification. Divide and conquer, the go-to strategy of the ruling elite since the Dark Ages.”

 

Hamilton continues to play about with gender. He builds the story well for the last part and as space operas go, in my limited experience this is a good one.

8 out of 10

Starting Saints of Salvation by Peter Hamilton

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Every man for himself by Beryl Bainbridge

“A man bears the weight of his own body without knowing it, but he soon feels the weight of any other object. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that a man cannot forget- but not himself.”

This is another variation of the Titanic story, this time by Beryl Bainbridge. It was shortlisted for the Booker in 1996. Spoiler Alert: it sinks! This is a fictionalised account, although a number of real-life characters do flit in and out: Thomas Andrews, Ismay, Astor, Captain Smith, Lady Duff Gordon and others. There is a first-person narrator, who is a young relative of J P Morgan, or at least an adoptee: it isn’t that clear. He is rather handily called Morgan. The fictional characters are mainly in first class and are a fairly typical assortment. These include an opera singer with a dubious past, a rather obvious caricature of a Jewish tailor, assorted young adults interacting in fairly typical ways. Morgan is in his early 20s. In the folio edition, which I read, the illustrations were by Bainbridge herself (the best part of the book it must be said).

Bainbridge spends only the last quarter of the book on the sinking. The first three quarters deals with the comings and goings of the first class passengers, the circle around Morgan. As you would expect, there’s nothing new here and the cavortings of the youngish and rich do lose their attraction after a while. It seemed to me to be a wasted opportunity to ignore most of the passengers. Bainbridge has a good imagination and tells a fair story, but this just didn’t really resonate with me.

6 out of 10

Starting Burntcoat by Sarah Hall