A drugs-related kidnapping of a young lad: not a book I'd have picked up, were it not for its #bookerprize longlisting.
I enjoyed the characterisation (poor Dev, especially, and hapless Doll, and prematurely adult Nicky). There's something feels not quite complete about it though, and it could do with one more edit: not least to clear up the nonsensical imagery I kept tripping over (eg. the appearance of a distant building compared to an aspirin).

Oh, this was good! Actually, I think it's the best of his that I've read, partly because he has a defter touch with the foreshadowing here than in some others. I enjoyed the telling of this from the wife's point of view and her anguish re questioning her complicity/"stupidity".
I want to read "Earth" now!

The storm is mostly passed, the tree is up and, for reasons unknown, I'm after reading Tennyson. 🤷

#bookerprizelonglist (Yes, I'm still making slow progress through the longlist ?)

To be honest, I wasn't looking forward to this much. Given the subject matter, I imagined it would be rather "tough" in a blokeish way: the book it would have been had Mustafa been the narrator, perhaps. As it was, I found it surprisingly tender. I felt for Khaled, whose life seems permanently provisional despite 30 years of staying put.

I'd have shortlisted it.

Shamelessly not even pretending to be book-related: I just wanted to show you the surprise gift of an advent calendar my daughter gave me. I smile every time I see it! 😀 ❤️ 🦕🦖

Fascinating book! A rich buffet for word-nerds, a collection of essays on e.g: ASL; the rules of Icelandic naming; the Manx language; details of translating Les Murray's poetry into French; Esperanto; the grammar and syntax of phone-speech; the work of Georges Perec (appropriately excluding the letter "e"); and his own synaesthetic language of number.
(I'm considering the possibility that I have a crush on Daniel Tammet's mind at this point. ?)

This maps the intersection between a life built from books, feminism, disputed childhood neglect and female (self) control.
I have close, albeit second-hand, experience of a near fatal eating disorder so this was a tough listen throughout: be warned! (Also, briefly, for suicide ideation.) If you're a fan of her novels, I think you won't want to miss this. I found it compelling, for which credit must also go to narrator, Morven Christie.

Oh, this was seriously good! It's a powerful story on a subject I don't recall reading about before. I very much enjoyed the characterisation of Isabel and Eva and, oh my, the tension generated throughout as it becomes clear what is actually going on here. Actually I think it would have been my personal #bookerprize winner, were it not for the generous amount of 🌶️ , which i just don't like.

Heigh ho, here we go for another turn around the relief-grief-rage cycle! Turns out there's a significant overlap between cPTSD and the autism spectrum (not surprised). This is a reassuring and potentially empowering book, in that the approach comprises things you can do for yourself, without requiring professional support. I've tweaked my journalling/meditation practice to include her methods. So far so good but it's early days yet.

Well that was... odd!
A writer-mother has conversations with her teenaged son, who has committed suicide: sounds pretty devastating, right?
But they mostly quibble over semantics. ? I wasn't up for being swept away by floods of tears but I was expecting to feel *something*. It's desolate enough, in it's own way, and has left me with a "what was the point of it all?" kind of emptiness. Maybe that was the point?

#bookerprize2024
I mean, I'm not *unhappy* but of the eight longlisted books I've read so far this one came in at 4th place. 🤷
Would love to know if it was anyone here's top pick.

Lovely book! She starts with basic paint- and brush- handling techniques which are then developed and combined in subsequent chapters. Each comprises several step-by-step projects on a theme: flowers/plants, animals, food, objects, people, places. I found them so satisfying to do and completed every single one!

I'd recommend gouache to anyone who wants to paint but finds watercolour intimidating and doesn't have the space to set up acrylic/oils.

#bookerprizeshortlist
I have yet to read Safekeep (my next-up) and Creation Lake but, as it stands, for me it's a contest between this and James.

It's a quiet, pensive, slow-paced book, with themes of grief, remorse, forgiveness. It explores how we go about the task of being able to live with ourselves (never mind others!) and whether "retreat" is a culpable or even possible response to the world. Oh, and there's a plague of mice to keep it real.

Glad I persevered but sorry to use such a word where reading is concerned.
My FIL was a Baptist minister and I've good memories of comet Hale-Bopp (I was pregnant), so there's that.
I did enjoy it in the end but it's a qualified pick: the vibe was more 1897 than 1997, which was disorienting, and several minor characters, along with the whole Maria Vaduva story arc, didn't quite come into focus.
I did like Grace and Thomas's complex friendship.

Amen (or whatever the Sanskrit equivalent is) to that!

Fascinating book! He says at the end, "If there is hope for wild nature, it's in our love for it." What's the opposite of a gatekeeper? Someone who says, "Off we go, then: be sure to pick up a flask of tea and a magnifying glass on the way out."? That's what this book feels like. He's keen to demonstrate that you're not nearly as bad a botanist as you probably think: once that hurdle has been cleared there's a whole world of wonder to explore.

#bookerprizelonglist

I loved it! I thought it followed a similar pattern to The Overstory, but focused on the ocean rather than trees. And, again, it's not so much about the plot as what it *means*. In short, it's a gorgeous "thinky" book that appeals to the heart (my favourite kind?). I'm disappointed it wasn't shortlisted.

BorrowBox was definitely the way to go with this: I wouldn't have wanted to invite it into my house in physical form. I know that's superstitious, but it's a testament to how it scared the feckin' bejesus out of me. 😱
I wanted to shake Eilish, but can I honestly say I would behave differently? Unlikely. I hope to God I never have to find out.

Wasn't sure this would be my thing: an online freebie she offered proved to be beneficial so I wanted to support her work. It's a lovely, quiet, thoughtful book. A book of emotional courage and vulnerability. In short, insofar as "kokoro" can be unpacked even in the space of a whole book, it's about living from an experience of orienting to and from the heart-mind. The three pondering/journalling questions at the end of each chapter keep it real.

I know of KA primarily as a poet: always creative, always interesting, sometimes very moving, sometimes just plain baffling. This book was all of those things by turn. Or all at once.
Cyrus is colossally self-absorbed, but is aware of the fact. I wanted good things to happen for him.
Structurally, I'm not entirely convinced it worked, but KA makes for a dazzling, rhapsodic novelist. I enjoyed his book very much.

#libraryhaul
Waiting for me on the "reserved books" shelf this week.
Mr K was also waiting for me; I deliberately didn't take my glasses, so I wouldn't be tempted to browse. ???

My wholly spontaneous Jess Kidd-athon continues! 😁
This was an excellent October read (and the audiobook has a top-notch narrator, too): it's a female detective story with possibly mythical creatures and an absolute boat-load of Victorian macabre.
I adored Bridie Devine and was somewhat more surprised to find I had a soft spot for the ghost of a heavyweight boxer: that's the power of fiction, I suppose.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,
With a pot of cardamom tea...

My autumnal Sunday afternoon vibe 👌

As with Anne Michaels' "Held", I was into the first half but once the narrative reached 2018 it kind of dissipated and/or fragmented whilst feeling increasingly repetitive, not helped by the fact that the various characters are written with the same voice. It's a worthy book dealing with seriously heavy themes and perhaps I'd feel differently had I read "There There" beforehand but, as it is, my reading experience became something of a trudge.

A qualified pick because while Jess Kidd's books are a good read/listen this was my least favourite so far. She does favour rather dark themes but this one got *really* bleak.
I appreciated the repetitions that linked the two narratives, and had to look up the history of the Batavia afterwards.
There will be NO animal cruelty on my watch! (poor tortoise 🐢 😩)

I marvel at the thought process that results in a book that makes it impossible to look away from a still-unfolding culture of racist violence and plays it for laughs.
I kind of enjoyed it, after a horrified fashion: it's sickening on many levels. (And, once again P.E calls me out: murder on all sides but it's the *language* that bothers me?)
When the weird 💩 went off-the-charts crazy it lost me rather; maybe I'd just reached saturation point.

Frances Hardinge is a damn good storyteller (and Emilia Fox is a top notch narrator)! Yes, there are gothic shenanigans involving an eldritch tree that thrives on lies and produces psychotropic truth-fruits. Then there is a suspicious death to be investigated. But *really* it is about scientifically-minded Faith refusing to content herself with the crumbs that fall from the table as she grows towards womanhood in the Victorian era.

What just happened?!
I don't usually read feel-good books because they tend to make me feel like 💩. Funny books rarely vibe with my sense of humour. Loud, chaotic situations (and especially families!) make me want to hide under my desk. And don't get me started on weddings!
I only picked this up because of Litsy.
I loved Greta and Valdin, the characters and the book, both.

I'm not American so I imagine this landed a little differently for me than for most of you, but it's a damn good story and I flew through it. I enjoyed the humour, flinched at the brutality (he must have been seething when he wrote some of those sentences!) and even had an unflattering self awareness epiphany.*
I'm delighted it made the #bookerprizeshortlist . I'm happy to discover a new-to-me author.

Been pondering how to review this. It's good - I'll rate it a pick - but while I became invested in it (once my irritation with the insufferable teenaged toffs had abated) I never quite warmed to it. Perhaps love stories aren't my thing these days. Perhaps stories of swathes of young men being blown to bits on the battlefield aren't my thing either.

I've seen reviews comparing it to Song of Achilles. Different league: this is the stronger by far.

Look what was waiting for me on the reserved books shelf at the library yesterday! 🥰
#libraryhaul

I liked it. It's not as profound as the blurbs would have us believe and, little glimpses of their Earth-lives notwithstanding, the astronauts are largely interchangeable (though I suppose it's a vocation selecting from a narrow bandwidth, character-wise.) While there's no plot to speak of (I'm not doing a very good job of selling this, am I?😆), I found the repetition soothing and, though it's a short book, I wanted to take my time over it.

I don't think revealing that a woman winds up dead merits a spoiler alert: don't they always, in these things?
Nevertheless, I found this wholly engrossing. I like Aaron Falk, and Steve Shanahan is an excellent narrator.

A book of two halves. I enjoyed the ponderings on memory, perception and desire of the first half; once the narrative moved away from John and Helena to introduce new characters, and the timeline really started skipping about, the book's initial strength began to ebb. As the pace picked up, the narrative fragmented. Characters didn't remain "on stage" long enough to leave an impact and the idea-threads connecting them felt too much of a reach.

Oof, this book is brutal! Its portrayal of a woman wrecked by motherhood (or rather by sleep deprivation, post-natal depression, and the lack of a support network) was relentless but, honestly, it didn't strike me as over-played. I'm relieved it wasn't longer, though!

The timing of my reading this is... notable: my one-and-only has her birthday next week.

I didn't have high blood pressure before listening to this, but I possibly do now.
I knew the gender data gap was problematic but had no idea how all-pervasive it is, and honestly hadn't given much thought to the everyday repercussions of that. ?
I hope men will read this book too, even if it is "wimmin's things".

Eh, it reads more like the author's journey home to herself as a queer person of colour from a Muslim background. I'm not saying that isn't a story worth telling, but it's not the book the cover led me to believe I was getting.
It's kind of, "here's what these principles look like in my life: off you go, then."
I was audio-painting, or I'd likely have bailed.

Sweet book! Written during the pandemic, SL shares the birds he gets to know on his local suburban patch, particularly their song, and contemplates the question of why it speaks (sings!) so much to us. He has a nice way with imagery and a light-hearted touch. It made for an ideal bedtime book: interesting without being too intellectually or emotionally taxing. Although the pandemic features, as does nature depletion, it was a joyful read.

Oh, this is such a sad book!
Inter-generational trauma being carried and passed on with horrible inevitability by people without the wherewithal to transcend their circumstances.
Exploitative journalist Tom was a shitbag but I found I wanted more depth to his character, to see where he was coming from, just as we did with the Green family.

Interesting book (500+ pages) I would have liked to read more slowly, but the library wanted it back.
Science and religion are not the mutually-unintelligible strangers/enemies they're often assumed to be, but more like siblings who at various times support and want to throttle one another, with frequent squabbles over house room. NS has it all boil down to two questions: "What is the nature of man?"* and "Who has the authority to decide?"

This book is so extra! Maybe I'm just boring but my idea of comfort food is porridge, dal with basmati, a good veg soup, fresh crusty bread, and all the tea I can drink (not all together!). I feel these recipes are for those who want to eat plant-based but who miss meat and especially meat-eating culture. There's a place for that, but my kitchen ain't it.
Also, there's a lot of deep-frying and the recipes are seriously time and labour intensive.

A quiet, melancholic and ultimately affirming book about how we navigate the griefs we can carry across a lifetime and how connected we are to eachother, even from a tiny village on the edge of nowhere. I'll be thinking about this one a while.

(Could have done with fact-checking re neap tides and red-beaked gulls, but that's just me being finicky.)

This is a dark tale (with a whiff of Hilary Mantel's "Beyond Black"?) of disappearance and suspicious death, set in a crumbling mansion with the principal characters being cantankerous (and possibly dangerous) old Cathal Flood and his carer Maud. It's an engrossing mystery that manages to be slyly funny and also poignant.
Extra marks for Renata, Maud's agoraphobic trans landlady.
Top marks for Aoife McMahon's superb narration.

My first Munro.
Maybe the problem was that I'd heard such good things but I was insufficiently whelmed. It's an interesting premise: those pivotal moments that change the trajectories of ordinary lives. They're competent stories sure enough but for me they lacked that spark that compels me to sit up and take notice. Several days later I recall very little at all of them.
And why are they all set in the early to mid decades of the previous century?

#5JoysFriday @DebinHawaii

Too. Damn. Hot. Nevertheless...
Happy Friday, lovelies!

"... exploring birds as a means of understanding social relationships and human relationships to the living world of which we are a part, and seeking to do something different from presuming to assert authority or claim expertise."

"... more a case of 'May I tell you what I've been thinking?' than 'Here's what you need to know I know'."

?

Ma'am, you had me at "defunct sea gods"!
There's great world-building, character development aplenty and an exciting plot that plays out against a backdrop of big themes like loyalty, courage and above all integrity (metaphorically, literally, ecumenically, too, I shouldn't wonder!).
The redundant old priests and "god-ware" tech were bonuses.
I enjoyed every minute of listening to this (even if the toxic friendship parts were painful)!

In truth, I avoided this for ages out of sheer perversity because, a while back, EVERYONE was reading it.
The courtroom scenes felt like they might have hung on from a previous draft, possibly even a different book. Nor did the poetry angle add anything beneficial.
That aside, I was wholly immersed in Kya's story and loved how the marsh was presented as an active character throughout.

@DebinHawaii #5JoysFriday

It's been a while since I did one of these!

Not an easy read. I'd not seen the experience of social interaction from an autistic woman's point of view so recognisably depicted: oh, the relief!... until it started to feel all exposing and nasty.
I couldn't bear how casually cruel almost everyone was to Sunday.
I was intrigued by her fluency in sign language.
It did get rather repetitive (a saggy middle caused by all those horrendous dinners?)
I thought the ending hit the right note.