Passage (Connie Willis)

Another wonderful Connie Willis book - this one is barely speculative fiction at all. Well, only a little bit.

Joanne is a psychiatrist researching Near Death Experiences (NDEs) who teams up with Richard, a scientist who can chemically induce NDEs in volunteers. Due to a series of failures with volunteers, Joanne herself experiences an induced NDE, and her discoveries stemming from this experience form the remainder of the story.

Passage is an astonishing story about life, death and the intricate machinery of our bodies. While it's not, of itself, a depressing story, I felt rather depressed after reading it all in one go. Reading about death for 8 hours straight will do that to you. Regardless, it's a brilliant novel, and highly recommended - 5 out of 5.

To Say Nothing of the Dog (Connie Willis)

Connie Willis is a brilliant writer that I reluctantly classify as science or speculative fiction (reluctantly because that seems discourage some readers). I previously read and loved Doomsday Book, and I enjoyed To Say Nothing of the Dog almost as much.

To Say Nothing of the Dog employs the same time-travel technology that is used in Doomsday Book, and is set in around the same time. It's a lighter story, set mostly in Victorian England, about the dreaded Lady Schrapnell who has sent Ned to retrieve the Bishop's bird stump from Coventry Cathedral.

It is a somewhat confusing story - there's romance, adventure, temporal incongruities and a beautifully realised Victorian society, all muddled up together. It's very lighthearted and lots of fun however, although I became somewhat confused towards the end when they're slowly figuring out the incongruity. It's a 4 out of 5, due to its lack of a strong linear storyline.

The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)

I get the impression that this book is something of a feminist classic - it's a retelling of the Biblical story of Dinah, the daughter of Leah and Jacob, sister of Joseph. Well, when I say a retelling, I don't think there's that much about Dinah in the Bible in the first place - as far as I know, it focusses on Jacob's sons rather than his daughter.

I loved the rich culture that Diamant imagines in this book - the red tent where the women gather once a month, letting their menstrual blood seep into the earth, sharing stories, laughter and tears. I found that I became less involved in the story in the last quarter, where Dinah grows older in Egypt - it somehow felt less powerful than the earlier parts of the story, although I liked it when she encountered Joseph.

Diamant's language has an attractive rhythm to it which fits the story perfectly, although towards the end, I found it somewhat stilted (although this was probably because my interest in the novel was waning). Despite that, I enjoyed this very much - a 4/5 book.

Odin's Voice (Susan Price)

This is an interesting YA book, set in an unexplained future where the Free are served by the Bonded - essentially slaves - and a variety of ancient gods are worshipped at temples. Odin's Voice is the story of a young Bonder who seems to speak with the voice of Odin, and a Free girl who is Bonded, and is befriended by the voice of Odin.

I was actually attracted to this book because of the title - I enjoy Norse mythology - and it was a good YA fiction, although both main characters are rather unsympathetic at times. The end of this book makes it very clear that a sequel is in the offing. I'd definitely pick it up at the library, but it's not something I'd want to purchase.

Dragonfly in Amber; Voyager; and Drums of Autumn (Diana Gabaldon)

These books are immensely trashy, filled with a slightly sickening attitidue towards love and romance, and a distastefully homophobic world view. Yet I'm kind of addicted to the time-travel premise, despite doubts that Gabaldon's picture of the world 200 years ago is in any way accurate.

In these books, the eternally passion-struck Claire and Jamie travel to France and then to America. In the third, their daughter Brianna and her fiance travel through time to find her parents, and there are rapes, pregnancies, and lots of sickening declarations of love. (This is why romance as a genre is really not for me.)

As this series progresses, the author seems to be becoming more and more fond of the idea that men exist to take care of and to protect women, and even if women think they're independent, secretly they love it when a man comes striding in to protect their honour. Gag. I don't think I'm going to read any more of these - they leave a bad taste in my mouth.

Sweat Your Prayers (Gabrielle Roth)

This is a non-fiction book about ecstatic dance - movement as method of spiritual awakening and personal enlightenment.

Roth uses five rhythms as a metaphor for the stages of life (and many other things) - flowing, staccato, chaos, lyrical, and stillness. You can get a good sense of what she means by these rhythms through the book, and she recommends her own CDs as accompaniments to dancing the rhythms.

I really enjoyed this - I plan to get my own copy, and I'd like to get a CD or DVD to accompany it.

Past Mortem (Ben Elton)

This is the most gruesome book of Ben Elton's that I've ever read (which I shouldn't really have been surprised about, I suppose, after reading the "policeman searches for serial killer" blurb.) Most of Ben Elton's books seem to have a central "issue" - environmentalism in Stark and This Other Eden, fame and celebrity in Dead Famous and Popcorn, and drugs in High Society. In Past Mortem, the issue of the moment is bullying, by both children and adults.

Elton's dialogue is pretty terrible in this book - stiff and clumsy, which makes it hard to connect with the characters. I was semi-involved - I did want to find out who the killer was, and whether Newsom would finally tell his sergeant Natasha about his passionate and secret love for her - but I polished it off with a certain amount of relief that I wouldn't have to go plunging back into the clunky writing. Elton's done much better - in fact, Stark probably remains my favourite of his books, although I liked High Society a lot as well.

Tales of the Otori (Lian Hearn)

Tales of the Otori is a trilogy written by Lian Hearn, a pseudonym for Australian author, Gillian Rubenstein. It's a fantasy series, set in a mythical medieval Japan, where warlords feud for control of the land, and the Tribe, secretive people with extraordinary physical powers, hire themselves out as assassins and spies.

Tales of the Otori tells the story of Takeo and Kaede, a young man and woman who must fight for their future. There's a great deal of death in these books, and I found the propensity people have for killing themselves rather off-putting. The writing style is what I think of as Japanese - rich with description, but very spare and simple, especiially the dialogue and the emotional life of the characters. In fact, I didn't feel that I got very close to the characters, which was drawback. Their lives were so intensely dramatic that they didn't feel particularly real.

However, Hearn's descriptions are intensely beautiful, and she has created a beautiful world in Tales of the Otori. They veer between three and four out of five stars.

Cassandra; Medea; and Electra (Kerry Greenwood)

Each of these books tells the story of the titular character from what I would call a feminist perspective, in that the women are the centre of the stories. I love what Kerry Greenwood has done with these stories, and these characters. These three books have formed the foundation of Greek myths for me - I can't think of Cassandra without seeing Greenwood's visions of Troy burning, blood in the streets. Greenwood has done quite meticulous research, but doesn't apologise for her interpretation or changing of certain events - in fact, she explains her choices in detail in appendixes to each book, which are fascinating reading in themselves, and made me want to devour every version of these stories I can find.

(In a somewhat similar vein, Margaret Atwood has just published a story about Penelope, wife of Odysseus - The Penelopiad - which looks fantastic.)

Cassandra and Electra are slightly linked - it is better to read Cassandra first, as Electra is set after the conclusion of the fall of Troy, and it works better chronologically. Medea stands on its own.

If you are passionately attached to one version or the other of these stories, you might not enjoy these. Cassandra has two lovers and survives the fall of Troy, Electra was raped by her stepfather, and Medea doesn't kill her own children.

These characters come alive under Greenwood's pen - in fact, the world of Ancient Greece lives, visceral and breathing, in these books. They're some of my very favourite books - highly recommended, if you can find copies.

The Powerbook (Jeanette Winterson)

I had never read any Winterson before this novel, and found her style a little hard to adjust to. It's very dream-like, this collection of interlinked stories and scenes, and I wouldn't describe it as a work with a firm plot or narrative.

Winterson creates very visceral imagery - her descriptions drip with colour, scent and flavour, and this is the most seductive part of her writing. I found the dialogue between the storyteller and the listener a little forced and wooden, but that was my only dislike in terms of Winterson's writing style.

I found it hard to connect to this book, with its mutable characters, its winding and tenuous storyline, but I really loved Winterson's use of words. I'd like to read another one of her novels, perhaps one of the more conventional ones, although I don't think "conventional" is really a word you can connect with Winterson. This was a book for the Book Club, and it made for an interesting discussion piece - I was pleased to be introduced to Winterson's work.

The Mermaid Chair (Sue Monk Kidd)

I read Sue Monk Kidd's first novel, The Secret Life of Bees, and really loved its soothingly spiritual flavour. The Mermaid Chair didn't grab me in the same way. When Jessie hears that her mother is ill, she leaves her stifling husband and returns to the island of her childhood to confront her memories of her father's death and her future.

I didn't really connect with the characters - Jessie was irritatingly obtuse, and I didn't enjoy her awakening and realisations, or the decisions she made. The myth of the mermaid which is woven somewhat awkwardly through the story feels clumsy and unneccessary. The revelation concerning Jessie's father's death was overly elaborate, and felt contrived.

I don't think I'd be attracted to any more of Kidd's work. This was a 2 out of 5 novel, and rather disappointing, as I was expecting more.

Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)

Gabaldon is well-known for writing romance novels, although I hear that she dislikes the label. I don't know why - although Outlander involves time travel (briefly), and historical aspects, it revolves chiefly around the romance of Claire and Jamie in 18th century Scotland.

Claire travels several hundred years into the past through a stone circle. She seems relatively undisturbed about this occurrence, which irritated me. She very swiftly settles down, and seems to forget entirely her husband whom she has left behind in the future. She meets Jamie when he saves her from being raped and she nurses him from a bullet wound. They progress to madly having sex everywhere, at anytime of day, and having what I found to be a strangely abusive relationship with each other.

I enjoyed the pace of this novel, but various elements of the characters were most unrealistic - Claire's happily settling down in the past, for example. I found the scene where Jamie beats Claire extremely off-putting, and his nickname for her - "Sassenach" - began to drive me crazy about halfway through the book.

I enjoyed the rollicking haphazardness of the story though, and I'll be reading one or two of the sequels to see if the characterisation improves. I'd say this was a 3 out of 5, occasionally verging on a 2.

The Bone Doll's Twin & Hidden Warrior (Lynn Flewelling)

These two novels, the beginning of the Tamir Triad, are written later than the Nightrunner Trilogy, and it's immediately apparent that the author's writing has matured. These are set in the same world as the Nightrunner books, but at an earlier time.

The Tamir Triad tells the story of a ruthless king who seeks to stabilise his throne and succession by killing his female relatives, in a time when the land is overun with plague, famine and war. When his sister gives birth to twins, the boy is killed, and in a working of dark magic, his male form is given to his sister.

Tobin, as she is named, grows up in a remote keep believing she is a boy. She is haunted by the ghost of her brother, and surrounded by intrigue, dark magic, and loyalty. While serving as a knight at the court of her uncle, the king, she discovers her true nature, and plans for her future.

Flewelling's characters are far more realistic in these novels - Tobin and the people who are working to see her on the throne are convincingly torn between loyalities and regimes. Tobin is a particularly endearing character, and I think Flewelling captures the nature of a young mind and voice extremely well, and also Tobin's double nature, of a woman brought up as a man. They are extremely captivating books, and I enjoyed them immensely (although I'm rather annoyed that I now have to wait a year for the next one to be published). 4 out of 5 - they're excellent fantasy novels.

Luck in the Shadows; Stalking Darkness; Traitor's Moon (Lynn Flewelling)

These three books are generally referred to as The Nightrunner Trilogy, although only the first two books follow directly on from each other. The third book was written some time afterwards, and is set some years after the events in the first two.

The covers of these books really put me off, as did the blurbs - I'm not into those "young thief in faux medieval world wins the money and gets the girl" books, and this is what these look like at first glance. I really enjoyed them, though, despite my misgivings. Not the most stunningly written fantasy, but it is decent - no glaring horrible bits. (There are so many fantasies with glaringly horrible bits.)

Actually, what I like most about this trilogy is that the two male main characters, Alec and Seregil, have fallen in love by the end of the second book, and are lovers by the third. It's handled very well by Flewelling, and I enjoyed reading a book, especially in a such a cliche-ridden genre, that treats homosexuality as a completely normal aspect of human sexual behaviour.

But apart from containing a very refreshing love story, these books have a fairly average swords 'n magic tale to tell, lifted by decent writing and a good sense of pace. I was drawn into them. 3 out of 5, occasionally verging on 4.

The White Earth (Andrew McGahan)

This novel won some sort of award, which is why I picked it up in the first place. However, I just Googled it, and can't figure out what award it was. Ah, there we go - shortlisted for the Miles Franklin Award, and it won the Commonwealth Writers' Prize.

McGahan describes the book as being about political paranoia, and the Australian rural landscape. It evokes that atmosphere very well, and there's an undercurrent of tension and horror throughout the entire piece. I put it down and for the next couple of days I kept imagining I had an ear ache, and worrying about it - if you read the book, you'll understand why.

The main character is nine year old William, who after his father's death, goes with his mother to live with his mysterious great-uncle John. William is drawn into John's confidence, and slowly throughout the book he discovers more about the land his mother wishes him to inherit, and the dark history of his family.

This is a very Australian book - the atmosphere and the setting are very firmly Australian, and it was interesting to read a horror story that was so Australian, rather than the usual sagas that get characterised as such. An excellent book.

Anansi Boys (Neil Gaiman)

I'm a big fan of Neil Gaiman. The first things I read of his were his very dark, very twisted Sandman graphic novels, which I loved. Then I went on to read all his novels (of which there aren't that many, alas). I have his signature on a frame on my desk at home. A friend got it for me, with a little inscription - "Dream dangerously" - and my name. So, all in all, it was very unlikely that I was not going to love this book.

Anansi Boys is the story of Fat Charlie Nancy, who learns, after attending his estranged father's funeral, that his father was Anansi, an African trickster god, and that he has a brother, Spider, who inherited their father's god-like attributes. Fat Charlie gets in touch with Spider, and then tries to get rid of him, both actions having fairly disasterous results. I'd classify it more as magic-realism or urban fantasy than straight-out fantasy, which you'll realise if you've read Gaiman, but my short synopsis gives it a bit of a fantasy feel. Read Amazon reviews for a more detailed description of the plot. I'm not good at that.

It's a novel beautifully thick with detail and rich characterisation - Spider was such an endearingly terrible character, I named a pot plant after him. I love the way Gaiman plays around with myths, and he does it well here - I particularly enjoyed seeing him use stories that I wasn't familiar with.

Gaiman gets into the guts of life and of stories, and he's funny all at the same time. He's one of the few authors that can take me from laughing out loud to feeling horribly depressed in a few pages. Brilliant.

The Jane Austen Book Club (Karen Joy Fowler)

A group of women (and one man) get together once a month to read through the works of Jane Austen. This novel narates each meeting for us, and then follows each character into their lives. Apparently there are plenty of Austen references throughout this book, but I'm sure I didn't catch any of them, not having read or studied much Austen. (One character is a matchmaker, like Emma - that's the only thing that stood out for me).

Despite probably missing some witty references, its a fun book - the characters are well drawn, and I enjoyed their takes on Austen's characters. If you've never read or watched any movie adaptions of Austen, this would not be the book for you. Enjoyable, but II wasn't particularly enraptured, so it'd be a 3 out of 5 for me.

In Her Shoes (Jennifer Weiner)

This is probably the first book I've ever read that might be characterised as chick-lit (although I think it's a pretty annoying and demeaning tag, most of the time). Unless you count reading Jackie Collins and Judith Krantz as a teenager, but I think they just count as junk-food books rather than chick-lit.

This was a light weekend read, but nothing special. I picked it up because I thought the movie looked enjoyable, but I'm not sure I'd see the movie after reading the book. I didn't particularly like either of the characters, and it annoyed me that the 'intelligent lawyer' sister has to stop being a lawyer and start walking dogs to be happy. It irritates me that in those sort of books women can never be happy while working in a full-time job that exercises their minds. I found that I didn't particularly care whether or not the characters were reconciled with each other at the end.

The plot seemed a bit scattered, too - here and there, let's jump a year, and then bounce over to this character. Meh. It was OK. A 2 out of 5 book.

Phryne Fisher Mysteries (Kerry Greenwood)

This is a combined review of Cocaine Blues, Flying Too High, The Green Mill Murders, Murder at Victoria Dock, Murder on the Ballarat Train, Blood and Circuses and Death by Water.

It's a bit of a cop-out, reviewing seven books in one post. But there is a certain similarity to these Phryne Fisher mysteries (which doesn't detract from them, but makes it difficult to try and find something different to say about each one.)

These mysteries are set in Melbourne, Australia in the 1920s, and feature glamourous "lady detective" Phryne (pronounced Fry-knee) Fisher, enormously wealthy fashion plate and woman of many and varied lovers. She's a fabulous character, and if I had as much money as Phryne, I would aspire to be exactly like her. She's the reason I enjoy these books.

These novels are all quick reads - Phyrne is presented with mysteries, and she solves them neatly by the end of the book, usually leaving at least one dead body and a satiated lover in her wake. (It's honestly not as trashy as I'm making it sound.) Greenwood writes well, and she write Phryne perfectly. I think these books improve later in the series ( Death by Water is the most recently published), simply because Greenwood is very familiar with her format and does it to perfection.

These books make me want to lie in a bathtub of hot water (scented with something ridiculously expensive and French) and fall asleep. The perfect books to read in bed.

To the Power of Three (Laura Lipman)

Sometimes I'll be reading a whole pile of random stuff on the internet, see a book recommended that seems good, and I'll zip over to my library's website and put it on hold. And then several weeks later, the book will arrive, and I will have completely forgotten where I heard of it, and sometimes why I wanted to read it. This was one of these books.

The story begins with a girl dead from a gun shot wound on a school bathroom floor, another girl in a coma, and a third shot in the foot. It then winds backwards and forwards, leading us gently into the relationship between the girls, and then onwards to what would be their last day together at school.

I enjoyed it, but was a little disappointed with the big reveal ending. I often am, with mysteries. This felt like a beautifully drawn together web for the first two thirds, and then rushed together at the ending. It was a decent read, however, despite not knowing where I heard of it. It's a three out of five book.

The Red Queen (Margaret Drabble)

About halfway through this book, the Red Queen of the title narrates one of the most horrifying death scenes I've read for a while. I put this down for a day until I felt removed enough from it to continue.

The Red Queen is a fictionalised look at the life of the Queen of Korea in the eighteenth century, and the royal family that surrounds her. The story is based on the memoirs of the Queen, and is therefore based quite strongly, I think, in fact. It begins with the Queen as a young child longing intensely for a red silk skirt, and this memory continues to reappear throughout the book. I must say, reading it has invoked a strong desire for red things. I'm very fond of red, generally, but I don't usually gravitate towards such prosaic items as red pens, murmuring "Aaaah! So pretty!"

Perhaps I've been gently taken over by the spirit of the Red Queen. This story did affect me quite strongly, and certainly not simply because of the death I've mentioned. I enjoyed the writing, which isn't a surprise, as I like Drabble. But the characters seemed particularly vibrant, perhaps because they were based on fact. I was quite drawn in by the idea of this iron-willed woman living hundreds of years ago, riding through the Korean countryside in a covered carriage. An excellent book, for all sorts of reasons - highly recommended.

The Wee Free Men & A Hat Full of Sky (Terry Pratchett)

These two books are stories set in the Discworld aimed at younger readers, but really only so in the sense that the heroine is 11 years old. They star Tiffany Aching, a very determined young girl, and the Nac Mac Feegle, small blue drunk fairies, who live to swear and fight anything in their path (and each other if they get bored). In The Wee Free Men, Tiffany, with the aid of the Nac Mac Feegle, fights the Queen of the Fairies to retrieve her baby brother. In A Hat Full of Sky, she is apprenticed to a witch, and faces a more terrifying internal battle with a drifting spirit called a hiver.

"Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colours. And the people there see you differently too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving."
(A Hat Full of Sky, p349)

These are just as enjoyable to read as an adult, I think. Pratchett's skill and love of language shines through in all his work, no matter who its written for. Tiffany is a wonderful character - exactly the sort of person I wanted to be when I was younger (and in some ways, how I still want to be). I think these two novels, along with the later Discworld books, are some of Pratchett's best work.

The Bride Stripped Bare (Anonymous)

The Bride Stripped Bare is fairly short novel, written in small chapters described as lessons, and in the second person. I thought I would find it clumsy, but it's very beguiling, and after a few pages I didn't notice the perspective at all.

This book made me think a lot of my own relationships, how I think about intimacy and sex, and how women discuss these sorts of things with each other. And I really value books that make me think about and evaluate myself. I'm going to recommend this to all my women friends. I think men would find it confusing, and I don't have all that many men friends anyway, hence the women-only recommendation. An absorbing and tactile read.

Night Watch & Going Postal (Terry Pratchett)

I do love Terry Pratchett an awful lot. He's one of my favourite authors, the way he gives me comforting reasurances about the state of humanity (even if there are really horrible serial killers, there are always going to be wonderful characters like Sam Vimes who can stop them.)

And out of the great mass of characters that inhabit the Discworld, Sam Vimes is one my dearest favourites. His sarcasm, gruffness and struggle with himself - how can you not love the man? He is the star of Night Watch , so I was bound to enjoy it. And it's one of Pratchett's best books, I think. We see Vimes as a young man, and experience the events that change him. And we see Vimes as a grown man, and watch him struggle to live up to his younger self's ideals. It's beautiful - and it's set in amongst the usual craziness and footnotes of the Discworld. Fantastic.

Going Postal was a different experience, because while it's still set in familiar Ankh Morpork, with its accompanying cast of supporting characters, it also introduces many new ones. I read it quite soon after it was released, and thought it was OK. On the second reading, I enjoyed it much more. I think Discworld novels, for me, always need a second read - I'm too excited about them when they're first written, and reality always feels like a bit of a let down. Then I read them again, some time later, and appreciate them much more. Going Postal is a fantastic book. (Pratchett is definitely an author who improves with age and practice, as I enjoy his mid to later books much more than his earlier ones.) A spin on the postal service, as apparent by the title, it introduces soon-to-be-ex conman Moist Lipwig, the post office staff, and gives us more golems (Hooray For Golems). Vastly enjoyable. I'm in a Pratchett phase at the moment, while waiting for Thud to arrive at the library.

Fivestar (Mardi McConnochie)

Modelled very closely on the rise of the Spice Girls in the early 90s, this is a novel about an Australian version of the story - five young women recruited into a manufactured pop machine, their rise and fall, and the toll this has on their lives. It's fun, and fairly well written light fluff. I wanted to find out what happened to the characters, but I wasn't enthralled by it. It's an interesting idea though, so it gets points for that.

Case Histories (Kate Atkinson)

I've read all of Kate Atkinson's other books, and I was looking forward to this one, with its reputation as the best of the lot. And it does live up to it.

It's one of the multi-strand stories that Atkinson seems to enjoy writing, and this one works particularly well. It begins by introducing three incidents in different times - a small girl who disappears, a young woman who's murdered, and woman who kills her husband with an axe. We are then introduced to Jackson Brodie, a private detective and ex-policeman, who slowly draws all these disparate threads together.

As usual, with Atkinson, this is a novel that thrives on its detail and deliciously three dimensional characters, which in a way are almost more exciting than the mysteries involved (although I was anxious to see those solved as well). I particularly enjoyed the father/daughter storyline, as I really identify with loving a parent enormously, yet secretly thinking of them as a bit silly, and how cruel that is.

This is a wonderful, five star novel - something to force your family and friends to read.

Shaman's Crossing (Robin Hobb)

This is the beginning of a new series for Robin Hobb, author of the Farseer, Liveship Traders and Tawny Man trilogies - all very excellent fantasy novels with rich characterisation and an immensely detailed world and history.

Shaman's Crossing is set in a different world to Hobb's previous trilogies. Nevarre Burvelle is a second son of a new noble (a military man elevated into the nobility by the king), destined by the order of his birth to become a soldier. We watch him grow up, and enter the King's Cavella Academy, a military school where he is shocked at the animosity between the old nobles and the new. Nevarre is haunted by a dreamlike encounter from his childhood years, and this dream gradually comes to life, culminating in a dramatic encounter on Dark Evening which changes his life forever.

Shaman's Crossing is just what I enjoy of Hobb's writing - a world I can fall into without thought, characters with depth, and most of all, a fascinating and lusciously rich story. Magic which enters someone's life and awakens them to the much bigger world that surrounds them. A wonderful, wonderful novel.

Starman (Sara Douglass)

More overwrought fantasy from Douglass. Betrayal! Evil babies! Vows of undying love! Discovering that you're actually a god! People adoring you or hating you with a fiery passion, and nothing in between.

In fact, that's a good description of this book (and most of her others, as far as I'm aware. I'm rereading a lot of hers, for light entertainment) - it's all crazy ups and downs, with nothing in between. Most good books, in my opinion, go deeper into that in between. Douglass just rushes about on the surface of life.

Lots of fun, though. These books would be hilarious to parody. I wonder if anyone writes fanfic for these?

Myrren's Gift (Fiona McIntosh)

Will Thurst is the young Commander of an army, when Myrren, a young woman accused of witchcraft, gives him a gift as she lies dying. You don't find out what this gift is until halfway through the novel - suffice to say, it changes Will's life.

It all sounds rather intriguing, doesn't it? Unfortunately, it's ruined by really, really bad writing. Like, "'Have you ravished Lady Thingy yet?', the Prince asked with a cruel sneer." Honestly, who uses the word ravished? Cardboard characters with cardboard reactions, clumsy language use, and people ravishing each other completely ruined this rather interesting idea. It took me forever to read this, because I kept putting it down in favour of other books. Not recommended.

Alyzon Whitestarr (Isobelle Carmody)

This is the latest YA novel by this very prolific Australian author. Despite the title (I do try to avoid books that use two letters where one will do - although to be fair to Ms Carmody, there's plenty of Starrs in the phone book), this is a very enjoyable fantasy book. Alyzon Whitestarr is the quiet younger child in a brightly eccentric family - her father is a musician, and her mother a nocturnal artist. An accident awakes certain abilities within Alyzon. She can smell people's feelings - the ammonia of her father's anxiety, and the aniseed of her sister's depression. As her control over these extended senses increase, she becomes aware of a terrible darkness that she must fight against.

It's certainly aimed at teenagers, and this is apparent in the writing. It's a fun read - a mystery/thriller, the narrative spiralling to an exciting conclusion. There are several all-too-neat coincidences, a few cardboard characters, and a touching love story - a 3 out of 5 story, with some gorgeously evocative description of Alyzon's sensory abilities.

Maul (Tricia Sullivan)

This was a strange, strange novel, and it would be fairly accurate to say that most of the time, I had no idea what the hell was going on.

It's a twisting cyber-punk novel, set in a world where most men have succumbed to a virus. Gangs of teenage girls terrorise a mall. An experiment run on an autistic man enables him to control the mall environment, and eventually be healed by the virus within his system. A scientist is desperate to bear a child. And it all barrels along messily and doesn't resolve into much. There's a wolf motif too, but that completely confused me.

I do hate admitting that I didn't get something, but I honestly just didn't get this. It was completely over my head, and just seemed pointless. It'd be 1 out of 5 for some briefly amusing moments, but that's all.

Battleaxe (Sara Douglass)

I enjoy Sara Douglass's fantasy in a sort of fast-food gobbling way, but it can be rather turgid, overly dramatic stuff. Battleaxe is in this vein - grandly cliched fantasy, complete with unrequited passion, destiny, overblown tragedy, and so on (and on and on).

But sometimes you just feel like plunging into the murky pool of high fantasy, and watch the characters blink in surprise as destiny juggles with them and impregnates them with Grand Golden Magnificent Saviour Poobahs and suchlike. And the Grand Golden etc wanders around, bewildered by his destiny, agonisingly in love with his brother's wife, saving the world with a stiff upper lip, jutting and manly jaw, and gleaming muscles. Probably wearing a small leather loincloth, or something of the sort.

So if you're in the mood for that sort of thing, by all means, give Battleaxe a go. But if you're after some small strands of realism, I'd avoid Douglass's books at all cost.

The Time Traveller's Wife (Audrey Niffenegger)

I had heard this book mentioned by others many times before reading it myself, but didn't know much about it. While it involves time travel, I wouldn't class it as science fiction. It's a love story, a tale that muses on connections and destiny, and the intricate ways in which we tie our lives to other people's.

Henry has a genetic disorder which causes him to uncontrollably travel in time, generally to important moments in his past or future. He spends time with his younger self, glimpses his future home, and when he is in his early twenties, he meets Clare, who says she has known him her entire life. When Henry is in his forties, he travels back in time and begins to regularly meet with Clare, who is six years old.

The Time Traveller's Wife charts Henry and Clare's relationship over the years, and it's a beautiful and very moving story. I felt so intimately connected to these characters, and the ending was rather heart-rending. A four out of five book - I loved it.

Blade of Fortriu (Juliet Marillier)

Marillier is an author of Celtic romance/drama/sagas - her first books, as far as I know, were the Sevenwaters Trilogy, and the first book, Daughter of the Forest, was based on the Seven Swans fairytale.

This book is the second in another trilogy, The Bridei Chronicles, the first of which was The Dark Mirror. Bridei is a Celtic chieftan, fighting against the Christian Gaels. The first book told of his childhood, and his friendship and consequent love affair with the otherworldly Tuala, a child of the Fair Folk.

Blade of Fortriu is set during the height of Bridei's military push against the Gaels. The story moves away from Bridei and Tuala, and centres around Faolan, Bridei's Gaelic secret agent, and Ana, a hostage in the court of Fortriu. It's in a similar vein to the first in the series, and to Marillier's other books - romance, passion, swords and magic, with an undercurrent of tragedy, but well written despite these cliched elements.

It was an enjoyable second novel, and I was happily satisfied with the way all the characters developed. I think Daughter of the Forest remains my favourite of Marillier's books though - I have a great fondness for the fairy tale it's based on, and she interprets it well.

The Minotaur (Barbara Vine)

I enjoy Barbara Vine (also known as Ruth Rendell). While as Rendell, the author concentrates on crime, Vine writes psychological mysteries/crime/thrillers. And while I'm not an great aficionado of crimes and mysteries, I like them as books I can race through in one or two sittings.

The Minotaur is a gripping story. Kerstin, a Swedish nurse, is employed by a very strange English family to take care of a schizophrenic son in his thirties. The character of Kerstin is a wonderful narrator, and this story is almost claustrophic in its tension. The inevitable ending spirals tighter and closer throughout the novel so that when you finally put it down, it's almost a relief to be finished.

So, while I'm not passionately attached to stories like this - I don't feel the urge to race out and buy it so that I can read it again whenever I like - they're still great reads. A 4/5 book.

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (JK Rowling)

I'm not a huge raving fan of Harry Potter - I enjoy the books, but I also usually recommend authors in the same genre who are, in my opinion, superior writers (Philip Pullman, Diana Wynne Jones, and so on). But I think there is a childish element of "it's so popular, how boring, I'm not going to like it" in those thoughts.

I really enjoyed this book. It's rather exposition heavy, but it's interesting exposition. I liked the sense of threads drawing together. I really didn't like the grumpy Harry in Order of the Phoenix, and I much prefer the teenager he's turned into here - still fraught with teenage emotions, but with an increasing mature control over them. And I enjoyed the love affair with Ginny - in fact, I liked most of the love affairs in this story. I thought they went well with the very limited fighting action - the reader needs a break before what I imagine will be the action overload of the final book.

God, the ending was devastating. I knew it was going to happen (because I can't keep my nose out of spoilers), but it still shocked me. The funeral was one of the most depressing things I've read in a while. I think the final book is going to an extremely dark journey.

In terms of the writing, it has the usual things wrong with it - a bit clunky in places, adjectives sprinkled all over the place with a heavy hand. But who cares? It's completely absorbing, and that's the most important thing.

Bookcases

My bookcases - overflowing not only with books, but with a variety of knicknacks, candles, notebooks, and knitting. They're not in any order at the moment, but ideally I would like to arrange them in genre, and then alphabetically by the author's name. Due to the size of our house, some of the books I don't often use (law and history textbooks, for example), are packed away in boxes. One of my dreams is to move into a house big enough to have a room lined with bookshelves - a little library, with a big armchair and a beanbag, for flopping in and reading on rainy days.

Gabriella's Book of Fire (Venero Armanno)

Gabriella's Book of Fire has also been published as Firehead, and is by a Brisbane author. It's set in Brisbane, during the last 30 or so years, and I enjoyed learning a bit more about Brisbane history, having only lived here for 5 years.

This book was chosen for our August book club discussion, but unfortunately, we talked about an enormous amount of other things, and not a great deal about the book. I did really enjoy it - Armanno writes very lyrically, and it's a pleasure to sink into his words.

One member of the book club, describing herself as very pragmatic, said that Sam's unrequited and almost unreasonable passion for Gabriella (which is the central premise) irritated her enormously. I was surprised that it didn't irritate me, actually - usually I dislike characters pining after someone for a lengthy amount of time, but it seemed to fit within the feel, the vibe, of the story. It was a somewhat dreamlike tale, thick with memories, so the fact that the ghost of this man's teenage love permeated it made sense to me.

I was disappointed by the novel's conclusion, but enjoyed the book enough to recommend it as a nice light read - a 3/5 kind of book.

Doomsday Book (Connie Willis)

This was a bloody good book. The sort of book you put down, and sigh, and simultaniously wish there was more of it and feel satisfied at the whole of it. (That was a convoluted sentence. One day I'm going to become more sophisticated at saying exactly why I enjoy things.)

This is technically a novel about time travel, but involves much more than that. The narrative is split fairly equally between a student sent back to the Middle Ages, and one of her professors in the future, dealing with an epidemic. The story set in the Middle Ages is utterly engrossing, and wonderfully done. Not having a very great knowledge of the Middle Ages, I'm assuming that most of the historical details were accurate, but in the end, it doesn't really matter. It feels convincingly realistic, which is more important.

This is a ridiculously short review for such a wonderful book. Let me recap. It's a great read. The parts set in the Middle Ages are amazing. The characterisation is fantastic. It made me cry. I'm kind of low on iron this week, so that may have contributed, but, irregardless, read it.

Book Lust (Nancy Pearl)

I was rather disappointed by Book Lust. I expected it to be full of quirky reviews, a book that I would read in one hand with pen and paper in the other, making a list of new discoveries.

Unfortunately, however, it doesn't really consist of reviews at all. Just lists of books that fit certain categories, and not a great deal of commentary as to whether those books are actually any good or not. As several books I'd read and not been impressed with were listed, I wasn't all that inclined to start taking Pearl's other recommendations very seriously.

Not worth picking up, unless you don't read much at all and need to expand your horizons. I get much more relevant book recs from blogs.

Upcoming

Lots of authors I enjoy seem to be writing away fairly speedily, which is nice - there are quite a few books being released in the upcoming months that I'm looking forward to.

Isobelle Carmody, who irritates me with her habit of starting on series of books and then drifting off onto other projects instead of finishing them - her Obernewtyn Chronicles and Legendsong Series, particularly - has a new book coming out in October. I can't say that I'm particularly attracted by the title - Alyzon Whitestarr - but I'll certainly be getting it out of the library. Penguin also have a title and a tentative release date for the fifth (and final?) book in the Obernewtyn Chronicles, amazingly - The Sending, due in October 2006. The final installment of the Legendsong Series is also supposedly to be published soon after The Sending, and is titled Darkbane.

Robin Hobb has begun a new trilogy, Soldier's Son, and the first book, Shaman's Crossing, is due to be released in September. I've enjoyed all of Hobb's previous series, so I'm looking forward to this one (despite my dislike of reading a series while it's being written, and therefore having to wait impatiently for the next volume to be published).

As most fans know, Neil Gaiman's new book, Anansi Boys, is going to be released in September - I've already got that on hold at the library.

As I've already mentioned, the 30th Discworld book, Thud!, is due to be released in the next month or so, and I'm terribly excited by the appearance of old and well-loved characters in this one.

Blade of Fortriu, the second book in Juliet Marillier's Bridei Chronicles, is going to be released in Australia and New Zealand in November this year, but won't be available in the UK or US until November, 2006. That seems very strange - I don't understand publishing at all.

Anyone else know of any exciting books being released soon?

Movies

I finished watching Jersey Girl today, which was an enjoyable gooey and teary film - not at all what I expected from Kevin Smith. And the little girl was extremely cute without being nauseating. Flicking through some of the extra features on the DVD reminded me that I've yet to watch Clerks, despite it being recommended to me as one of his best movies.

I've also recently seen Starsky & Hutch, which was good for low-maintenance laughter. Raising Helen didn't seem to know whether it wanted to be a comedy or a teary drama, but was fairly enjoyable. The first half of Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban was great - dark and brooding, gorgeous visual production. I'm looking forward to finishing that one. And once I got into it, Napoleon Dynamite was fantastic. Definitely worth a second viewing.

Specimen Days (Michael Cunningham)

Michael Cunningham is the author of The Hours, a novel I really enjoyed, so I was expecting great things of this story. As The Hours was inspired by Virginia Woolf, Cunningham's muse for Speciman Days was Walt Whitman, whose poetry is quoted by characters, often involuntarily, throughout the book.

Speciman Days is three separate but interlinked stories in different time periods - the first during the industrial revolution, the second in the present day, and the third at sometime in the future. They all contain a boy, Luke, a woman, Catherine, and a man, Simon, but they all play different roles in each story and in each time.

Speciman Days is quite different to anything I've read before - reviews desribe it with words such as "different", "bold", and "daring", and so it is. I also found it to be a rather chilling story, despite its emphasis on beauty and humanity. The stories have a sense of immensity and foreboding, and I was rather alarmed to find myself in a house alone after dark after finishing the second story, The Children's Crusade.

Cunningham's writing is immensely beautiful, and I think he captures Whiteman's sense of ecstasy in life well. After breathlessly finishing reading it on the train this morning, the imagery of the stories remain in my mind, and I think they'll do so for some time. This is a wonderful book - a 5/5.

Giants of the Frost (Kim Wilkins)

I've never found the Norse Gods and legends particularly appealing. I'm not sure why - perhaps it's all the fighting. This fantasy novel tells the story of Victoria, a re-born love of one of the Old Gods, and their efforts to find each other again despite the best efforts of Odin, Loki, and various other characters.

It's not great. Not only did I not like the Gods, I didn't like Victoria, and I just didn't enjoy this story. It's cliched, and dull - some nice evocative description, but that's about it.

I was surprised - I expected this to be on par with the other books I've read of Wilkins, but this is more a 2 out of 5 story. Not worth it.

Locked Rooms (Laurie R King)

This novel is the latest from Laurie R King, and continues her series revolving around her Sherlock Holmes and his wife, Mary Russell.

The reason I like these books is King's Sherlock Holmes. I wouldn't call myself a mad fan of Arthur Conan Doyle, but I did read all his Sherlock Holmes stories when I was younger, and I think King captures Holmes perfectly, and also makes him a far more interesting and sympathetic character than Doyle ever did.

Mary, though, is what makes the books. Mary is a wonderful character. I like her enormously, and her relationship with the prickly Holmes is fantastic.

The mysteries - for these novels are all mysteries - are secondary, to me. I enjoy the characters, first and foremost. The mystery in Locked Rooms is rather disappointing. While it delves a great deal into Mary's history, which is interesting, the villian revealed at the end was a bit of a let down. The motivation was rather unrealistic.

Despite that, I enjoyed this - King alternates Mary's first person with a third person narration, and I really liked that. You get to know Holmes' better, I think, rather than purely through Mary's eyes. The let-down of the mystery doesn't ruin the book, but it's a little disappointing to imagine what it might have been. Oh, and it's not really worth reading as a stand alone novel - you need to start at the beginning, with The Beekeeper's Apprentice.

Terry Pratchett

I was delighted to realise that Terry Pratchett has a new Discworld novel, Thud!, being released soon (and I've already put it on hold at the library in anticipation). And it features Samuel Vimes, one of my favourite characters, so I'm terribly excited.

I've been reading the Discworld novels (and other ventures of Pratchett's, including his brilliant novel Good Omens which he co-wrote with Neil Gaiman) for about ten years, and I continue to find them just as funny. They're fantasy novels with bite, dry satires of the modern world, and they often make me curl up in my chair, wheezing with laughter.

They're difficult books to gush about with other people, I find. I don't know too many fans - my friends often sadly lack a taste for fantasy or sci-fi, and even though Discworld is more satire than fantasy, it tends to put people off if they don't enjoy the odd wizard traipsing through their stories. And when you do find someone who enjoys them, they're not the sort of books you can dissect, or discuss how you absolutely fell in love with this character. Conversations tend to be along the lines of, "It's fantastic, isn't it, so dry and witty?" "Yeah." "And I love how that particular footnote was put there." "Yeah." And you trail off into silent satisfaction of your mutual good taste.

Irregardless of their gushing factor, the Discworld series (may they never end) are fantastic books. I haven't been as enamoured of the latest two volumes, but I think the return of Samuel Vimes and (presumably) the Watch bodes well. Now I just have to wait impatiently for Thud! to be released and make its way to my local library.

Beloved Favourites List

I hate it when people ask me what my favourite book is. Not only does the question make my mind go blank, but I don't have a favourite book - I'm not sure that any voracious reader does. I do have a list of favourite books, though - the most beloved, heart touching ones. Not necessarily life-changing, or written brilliantly, but you remember vividly when you first read them. You have them on your book shelves, usually battered rather than pristine, re-read them often, find comfort in them and love it when they get shoved to the back for months and you can rediscover them some time later. Childhood favourites, adult epiphanies. You recommend them to friends, buy copies as birthday presents, and hope that they will like the book as much as you did, because it will mean they understand part of you.

You know those books? Well, at the moment (and it will definitely be added to), this is my list.

Fiction

Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver

An Equal Music by Vikram Seth

Lords and Ladies, The Wee Free Men and The Fifth Elephant by Terry Pratchett

The Fifth Sacred Thing by Starhawk

His Dark Materials Trilogy by Philip Pullman

Tigana and The Lions of Al-Rassan by Guy Gavriel Kay

Brief Lives by Neil Gaiman

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Due Preparations for the Plague by Janette Turner Hospital

A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett
What Katy Did and What Katy Did at School by Susan Coolidge

April Fool's Day by Bryce Courtenay

The Lives of Christopher Chant, Charmed Life and The Magicians of Caprona by Diana Wynne Jones

Singer from the Sea and The Family Tree by Sheri S Tepper

Onion Girl by Charles De Lint

84 Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff

The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R King

The Diddakoi and The River by Rumer Godden
The Obernewtyn Chronicles by Isobelle Carmody

Non Fiction

Forgiveness and Other Acts of Love by Stephanie Dowrick
Paula by Isabelle Allende

My Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell

At the Root of This Longing by Carol Flinders

Beyond Black (Hilary Mantel)

This 10th novel from Hilary Mantel has been put in the long list for the Booker Prize this year. I'd never read any of Mantel's books before, but she's a long established and respected English author, and I'm looking forward to reading through her older books. So, as you can imagine, I enjoyed this one.

Alison Hart is a psychic, travelling around with her assistant Collette, her horrific medium Morris, and a whole pile of memories and ghosts from her childhood. Despite the characters, and a proliferation of dead people, it's not really a fantasy novel, but one with a much more personal scope. The real story is Alison and Collette, and their pasts that creep along behind them.

This is a dryly humerous novel, in parts, but I found it too dark and disturbing to describe it as funny. It's an excellent read, though - I love the way Mantel writes, and the way the bulky character of Alison treads through the pages. It also, on a note unrelated to the writing, made me want to use my tarot cards more regularly again - as long as Alison's fiends don't accompany me as they do her.

The Resurrectionists (Kim Wilkins)

Kim Wilkins is a Queensland author, whose usual genre sits around the fantasy/horror mark. The Resurrectionists is desribed on the cover as chilling horror, but I think I'd classify it more firmly as fantasy. Somewhat scary fantasy, certainly, but I don't think it contains enough gruesome detail to call it horror. And that's a good thing - I'm not a big fan of horror.

Maisie, dissatisfied with her career, her partner, and her life, heads to England to find her grandmother, who has been long estranged from Maisie's mother. From those beginnings, the story veers headlong into witchcraft, sorcery, ghosts, ancient diaries and good-looking gypsies.

Unfortunately, my excitement in the story began to wane two-thirds of the way along. Maisie can be an irritating character - she never knows what she wants, and she's not appealing enough in other ways to make up for the constant vacillating. The story she's living is set up well, but suddenly races towards what I found to be a dissatisfying conclusion. It's a 3 out of 5 book - exciting, but not well plotted enough to sustain it til the end.

The Reading Group (Elizabeth Noble)

This book probably comes under the category of chick-lit. Although, while I tend to think of chick-lit as books aimed at women readers, I think it actually refers to books with young women protagonists. The Reading Group has characters of all ages and both sexes, although the main ones are women.

The Reading Group involves a group of women meeting once a month to discuss a book. Their meetings and discussions form a relatively small part of the story, while the rest of the book branches off into the many directions of their different lives.

There's not a great deal to say about The Reading Group. While it's what I'd consider a fairly light read, the characters aren't cardboard cutouts, and the story was sufficiently exciting to keep me reading eagerly. It's good, a bit bland - it's just nice, really. It was a three out of five for me.

Persepolis (Marjane Satrapi)

Persepolis is a graphic novel, an illustrated story, a comic book. But there's no superheroes or magic here - just a rather simple memoir of growing up as a girl and woman in Iran, during the revolution.

I'd read Reading Lolita in Tehran just before I plunged into this, so I was fairly conversant with the recent history of Iran, pre and post revolution, and how it's affected women. But Persepolis is a very different view of that revolution, through a child's and then teenager's eyes.

I loved the spare black and white drawings, the stout little girl who longs to go to a demonstration, and wishes her father were a hero of the revolution. Satrapi portrays horrifying facts and figures in a very simple way - I'm thinking especially of the drawings of bodies layered on top of one another, after a massacre. It's very powerful.

In conclusion - a simple, elegant, powerful story. Satrapi has writtten a sequel, but I've heard it's not as good. I always wonder whether to read such books, usually do, and am almost always disappointed. I may read Persepolis 2 regardless, just for more of those little black and white drawings, marching across the page.

Never Let Me Go (Kazuo Ishiguro)

I've never read any of Ishiguro's work before, and knew him vaguely as the author of Remains of the Day. This is his latest book, and I'd read several excellent reviews of it before getting it out of the library. It has a slightly futuristic, dystopian theme which attracted me to it.

Reading the reviews spoiled the story a little for me, as while you're reading the voice of Kathy H., you're slowly let in to the world that Ishiguro has created. I would have liked to have that suspense, so I'm not going to reveal any details of the storyline here, as they're easy enough to find elsewhere.

Suffice to say, while it is set in a dystopian future, it's not a completely dark tale, although it's certainly depressing enough. But Kathy H.'s naive, hopeful voice carries you through the story with a lightness that relieves the despair that tends to crush down upon you as you race towards the end.

Ishiguro's characters are very real, but there's also an element of distance from them in his writing I found, although it was a vague disatisfaction that I can't really describe further. Other than that, I very much enjoyed this - a quiet, dark story, with a feeling of clinical calm to it.

Eating the Underworld (Doris Brett)

Doris Brett is an Australian poet and author, but the only reason I knew her name is because I own (or more accurately, stole from my mother) an extremely battered copy of her Australian Bread Book. A Google search reveals that it's not only out of print, but quite rare, so I should take better care of it, rather than dropping splodges of batter on its pages. (I can always easily find my favourite recipes in books - the pages are terribly stained).

Eating the Underworld is, according to the subtitle, a "memoir in three voices". It tells the story of Brett's encounter with cancer, in a journal, in poetry, and in short bits of fiction, although the journal is by far the dominant voice.

While cancer is the initial focus, the memoir also branches out into Brett's professional work as a psychologist and her family relationships, especially a particularly fraught and abusive relationship with her sister. It's a fascinating work - Brett writes beautifully and richly about her own emotional and physical experiences, and I really enjoyed the poems that, neatly chronologically, bookended each chapter.

]It was an inspiring book, about a woman who managed to reap great rewards from a terrible experience. It almost makes you believe that you would approach such hardship in a similar way. Very much recommended, if you enjoy memoirs, and if you can find a copy.

Snow Queen (Mardi McConnochie)

I'm not sure where I heard of this book, but I did put it on hold at the library, so I must have had a reason. Mardi McConnochie is an Australian author, and this book, set mostly in Adelaide, tells the story of Galina, a Russian ballerina and teacher, and her relationship with the younger Teddy.

One of the reviews described above describes McConnochie's writing as "cold", and I would agree - I would read along, not being touched by anything in particular, and then be suddenly pulled into a character's passion or pain. I found it effective for the story she's telling.

I got this out because I have a nostalgic fondness for stories set around ballet dancers, and this didn't disappoint - while the story centres around relationships, there's also a great deal of description of ballet training and touring.

While I wasn't stunned by the writing, or the story, it did draw me in - I'd give it 3/5.

The Plan

I've been keeping track of all the books I've read since the beginning of 2004. I'm a fast reader, and I read a lot. During 2004 I was studying, and had the corresponding leisure time. Now, in 2005, I'm working fulltime, but have two hours of commuting time in which to read, and consequently, I'm still getting through a lot of books.

I wanted to challenge myself to read more critically, and in order to do so, I'm going to write reviews of every book I read (and some of the ones I've read before). I find this prospect somewhat daunting, as I've never been particularly eloquent when it comes to describing exactly why I like something, and envy those who are. So this is partly a challenge to myself, to improve my abilities at description and reading with a sharper eye, but it's also simply for fun, and a way to share literary discoveries with others.

Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)

Rather than reading this classic, I listened to it on about 16 CDs over several weeks on the train to and from work. I'd heard of Jane Eyre, of course, and had watched a movie version, so the general sweep of the story wasn't a surprise to me. But it's the sort of dense, description heavy book that I avoid reading, knowing that I'll skim read sections, and spoil the book.

I'd never listened to an audio book before, and I loved this one. Listening to someone read to me means that I get swept up in Bronte's lengthy passages on the weather sweeping across the moors, rather than skimming past them to get to the action. I found my writing altered a little while I was doing my listening - it was more formal and structured, just like the voice I listened to for two hours a day. It was a great experience, and I loved knitting away on the train as Jane gradually fell in love with Mr Rochester.

I loved the Gothic, throbbing romance of the story, and its dramatic ebb and flow. And Jane, of course - Jane is a wonderful character. So determined and independent, that despite growing a little weary of her emotional highs and lows towards the end, I still felt greatly affectionate towards her.

I rather surprised myself in enjoying this book so much. I mean, it's esentially a romance story - an enormously dramatic romance, but still a romance. And I've never been interested in romance stories - I find it rather dull when the process of two people falling in love is the entire focus of the novel, and you know they're going to get together in the end, because that's the whole point. But perhaps I've been reading bad romance novels. Because all those criticisms apply to Jane Eyre, and it's still wonderful.

I imagine that people have written reams on the underlying themes and meanings of Jane Eyre, and I can't possibly add to that. It was just a wonderful story, with great pace, and a heroine who has stuck in my mind, dark and small, walking away down a country path with Mr Rochester striding beside her.

Reading Lolita in Tehran (Azar Nafisi)

This is the July book for our book club discussion, and it went down well with our group of feminists. Reading Lolita in Tehran is ostensibly a book about a book club, women meeting in Tehran to discuss Western literature. However, the group is not a book club in the usual sense, but a group of selected students of University lecturer Nafisi, and the discussions take place under her guidance. Her notes and recollections of these discussions make up roughly half of the book, but the other half contains Nafisi's (and her students) experiences of the Iranian revolution.

Not knowing a great deal about Iranian history, I found that Reading Lolita sometimes jumped time too abruptly for me, and I would be momentarily lost, trying to figure out what was happening now. On a second reading, however, the narrative flowed much more smoothly - incredibly dense and layered, it's certainly a book that benefits from a second reading.

Nafisi spends a lot of time trying to make sense of her restricted life in Tehran using fictional stories. What I like most in Reading Lolita, I think, is the discussions on the books. The only books I'd read that were discussed were The Great Gatsby, and Pride and Prejudice (although my idea of Pride and Prejudice is very influenced by the BBC drama, which I saw before reading the book), but I enjoyed just as much reading about characters that I've never come across before. Reading Lolita made me want to read Henry James and Nabokov.

In fact, I think that I felt closer to the books in this story than the women. The characters of the women were revealed, in a way, by how they reacted to the books, and in the end, I felt like I'd learned more about the books. I love stories with so much to them that they reveal more every time you read them, and I'm looking forward to reading Reading Lolita again in a few months. In the meantime, I should probably attempt to plunge into Henry James.