Boulder is another portrait of a woman, the second of a triptych.
The narrator of Permafrost never quite cut the strings of family, choosing the path(s) of least resistance, while lamenting not having made more independent choices in her formative years.
Assured Prose Who Art in Metaphor
If the narrator of Permafrost is somewhat unsure, that of Boulder is more certain. The prose is assured, the narrative has pace, the protagonist moves towards what suits her, to freedom – until things change.
The avid descriptions and bold metaphors have me rereading and highlighting passages, like the creation of foam as a wave crashes on itself, they are as natural to the text as the paragraphs within which they roll.
An itinerant cook, she moves from place to place, island to ship, working in the kitchen. Life on the cargo ship suits her, she’s at home in turbulent seas, around those that neither desire nor reject her, a place where there was no need to pretend life had a structure. Rootless, drifting and free.
Freedom In Its Many Forms
I think I’ve discovered what happiness is: whistling the moment you wake up, not getting in anyone’s way, owing no explanations, and falling into bed at daybreak, body addled from exhaustion, and mind free of every last trace of bitterness and dust.
The boat sails up and down the coast of Chile, she rarely disembarks, the only temptation in Chaitén, for a hot shower, fresh linen, and a lurking lust for a lover. That’s where she meets Samsa.
I look at her and she fills every corner of me. My gaze is a rope that catches her and draws her in. She looks up, sees me. She knows.
They begin to see each other, though it is often months between visits. Her lover renames her Boulder.
She doesn’t like my name and gives me a new one. She says I’m like one of those large, solitary rocks in southern Patagonia, pieces of world left over after creation, isolated and exposed to every element. No one knows where they came from. Not even they understand why they are still standing and why they never break down. I tell her I’ve seen rocks like those in the middle of the ocean.
Compromise, Commitment, Cohabitation
Samsa leaves for Iceland and asks Boulder to join her, she says yes. Samsa makes decisions and Boulder adapts to them. She observes the island, the islanders, the things she doesn’t like, she finds work that gives her an escape. She observes the different way they love each other, the pull of the boats when she walks the dock alone at night.
There’s a restlessness. She starts her own business, a food truck, no boss, no employees, a small but significant and necessary freedom. Something of her own. A coping mechanism.
Then it happens. Samsa wants to have a baby, Boulder knows that refusing her will mean the end, so asks for more time.
The novel charts this turning point in the relationship, where one woman will become pregnant and give birth while the other tries to support and be part of something she does not feel.
It is an alternative navigation of an age old dilemma, seen through the lens of a queer relationship, a couple struggling with avoidance issues.
It’s not difficult to imagine where it is headed, or what might happen, when one person isn’t quite committed to the idea and desires freedom so strongly. Is the love of another enough sufficient when events propel their lives forward faster than the communication of important feelings around them?
Boulder’s observations and experience are like that of an outsider who can’t quite enter the familiar, of trying to overcome an obstacle of the mind, when the heart is resisting, when self destructive tendencies threaten to communicate what the voice has been unwilling or unable to.
“My protagonists are mirror images of myself, only more precise and always veiled. I try to discover who they are by writing, travelling to their darkest, most uncomfortable corners, which is like travelling to the darkest corners of myself, corners that are often repressed and at times denied wholesale. Being able to embark on this journey aboard a novel is as exciting as it is unsettling. It’s as if the novel had transformed into a caravel and the seas were vast but finite, teeming with monsters on the edge of the earth.” Eva Baltasar
On the back page in the first sentence that describes the author, it says Eva Baltasar has published ten volumes of poetry. Permafrost is her debut novel, the first in a triptych which aims to explore the universes of three different women in the first person. It clear from the beginning this is the prose of an assured poet.
I love the title, Permafrost. That deep, but necessary layer in the earth, cold and hard, it creates a foundation layer and stability, as long as conditions remain the same. Kathleen Jamie writes about it in her excellent essay collection Surfacing.
The narrator of Permafrost destabilises the reader on the opening page, with these opening lines…
It’s nice, up here. Finally. That’s the thing about heights: a hundred metres of vertical glass. I’ve settled on an edge, I live on this edge and wait for the moment when I’ll leave the edge, my temporary home.
Not only thinking about heights, but observing all the minutae that surrounds her. It seems like a suicide attempt, a theme that recurs throughout the 122 page novella, only she appears to be distracted by an ever present curiosity around the details of the new experience, something that seems incongruent with wishing to take a life.
I’ve settled on an edge, I live on this edge and wait for the moment when I’ll leave the edge, my temporary home.
Living On the Edge Creates Curiosity
The Thomas Bernhard epigram warns us ‘To be born is to be unhappy, he said, and as long as we live we reproduce this unhappiness.’
So I am surprised by the humour. Despite her melancholy nature and existential awareness, the living in the shadow of family, she makes us laugh.
She tells us her family all self-medicate. Not her, she prefers the edge.
Not for me though – best to keep moving wildly to the edge, and then decide. After a while, you’ll find that the edge gives you room to live, vertical as ever, brushing up against the void. Not only can you live on it, but there are even different ways of growing there. If surviving is what’s it all about, maybe resistance is the only way to live intensely. Now, on this edge, I feel alive, more alive than ever.
A promising child, her first crisis is graduation, after five years, there’s nowhere to go, few clues as to how to put this learning to use. So she lives in her Aunt’s apartment and rents out rooms to different women, providing herself an income and an effortless source of lovers. She spends her days reading, observing, pondering death, too curious to pursue it.
Her meandering is interrupted by her pregnant sister and her mother, their insistence to stay close, involved, drawing her back in, keeping her that person she was. The Aunt’s phone call, she’s selling the apartment.
An au pair in Scotland, a marriage proposal in Belgium, childhood memories, fantasies, churning through relationships, occasionally one that lasts a chapter, dialogue with the sister, the mother.
A mole grows and changes form, she makes a doctor’s appointment then cancels it for a year, then follows up.
Life Can Be Insistent
Each chapter is less than two pages, sometimes the narrative skips a chapter and picks up the thread again later on. It’s an inner voyage of discovery and an outer journey of experiences to unravel what was formed by others and discover the essence of, to know who she is. As that realisation occurs, life throws an even greater challenge and responsibility her way.
I’ve realised I know myself by heart…
It is a unique work, recognisably the work of a poet, unruly, impulsive, it makes light of heavy subjects, never quite proselytising, both giving into and resisting convention, forging a way through, trying different things on, breaking out and being pulled back in. One is left wondering if she is floating with the tide or pushing through it.
Permafrost received the 2018 Premi Llibreter from Catalan booksellers and was shortlisted for the Prix Médici for Best Foreign Book in France (2020).
Another #20booksofsummer23 read for me, this was an airport purchase, left with me by a friend. I was intrigued that it won the Goodreads Mystery of the Year 2022, a genre I rarely read, but decided I would do so, to see what mystery readers are currently appreciating.
This is popular locked-room mystery fiction, featuring badly behaved hotel guests, errant staff and one young woman who appears to only see good in everyone.
It quickly became obvious that this is another novel that centres around a character that doesn’t pick up too well on social cues and is not able to interpret subtle meaning – it feels demeaning to use that term “on the spectrum”, however it seems that creating a character that has certain quirks, allows an author to create situations that wouldn’t otherwise seem realistic.
The truth is, I often have trouble with social situations; it’s as though everyone is playing an elaborate game with complex rules they all know, but I’m always playing for the first time. I make etiquette mistakes with alarming regularity, offend when I mean to compliment, misread body language, say the wrong thing at the wrong time.
Molly the Maid is possibly the least perceptive in terms of judging other human’s intentions of all these characters, but her obsession with cleanliness, in part thanks to her Grandmother’s habits, and her observation skills and recall are second to none.
Gran used to say, ‘If you love your job, you’ll never work a day in your life.’ And she’s right. Every day of work is a joy to me. I was born to do this job. I love cleaning, I love my maid’s trolley, and I love my uniform.
25 year old Molly works in a posh hotel, as a maid and is excellent at her job, she has recently lost her grandmother and now she has discovered a dead body in one of the hotel rooms. It becomes clear that whoever is involved is trying to frame her and she is at a bit of a loss as to how to shift blame away from her. She needs to upskill quickly in discerning who she can trust and who is undermining her, before she finds herself on the wrong side of the law.
…existing in plain sight while remaining largely invisible. That’s what I’ve learned being a maid. You can be so important, so crucial to the fabric of things and yet be entirely overlooked. It’s a truth that applies to maids and to others as well, so it seems.
One of the best parts I liked about the book, was that whenever Molly felt alone or unsure, one of her grandmother’s sayings would pop into her head, and it was always pertinent advice. It might have been a little cliché, but it was also reassuring, given her still present grief and lack of trustworthy colleagues or friends.
‘Gran,’ I say to the empty room, ‘I think I’m in trouble.’ I arrange the photos on top of the curio cabinet. I polish each of Gran’s treasures and stow them safely behind the glass. I stand in front of the cabinet looking at everything inside. I don’t know what to do. ‘You’re never alone as long as you have a friend.‘ I’ve been managing alone though all of this, but perhaps it really is time to call for help.
When she begins to ask for help, she discovers who really is there for her and how connecting with these people also helps her continue to learn and grow.
As I finished this, I saw that there is a Molly the Maid #2 sequel coming out soon, a famous mystery writer drops dead in the Grand Hotel tea room and Molly appears to have known them previously!
People are a mystery that can never be solved.
A very light-hearted, easy read with a rewarding conclusion, not too many twists. Ideal summer read if you like a cosy mystery.
This was a title from my list of 20 Books of Summer 2023 by the author Lisa See, whose previous and more recent historical fiction set on the Korean island of Jeju, I very much enjoyed.
The Island of Sea Women was a novel about the haeyno women, a female diving collective, their history and how their lineage was changed by societal events happening around them. A stunning, unforgettable work of fiction that drew on a fascinating history.
In The Tea Girl of Hummingbird Lane, a girl named Li-yan from an Akha hill tribe in China learns everything in childhood from her mother, she is subject to the tribes rituals, beliefs, traditions. However, some of the events she witnesses mark her in a way that make her determined to avoid being subject to them.
The novel begins in the 1980’s and although Li-yan had little exposure to the outside world, she is less accepting of old ways that are cruel and barbaric. She is part of a consciousness raising, yet in some ways still tied to traditional expectations. The novel follows her through life up until present day 2016 (when it was written).
Young love feels invincible but can create a trap, so when Li-yan finds herself in a compromising situation, she and her mother do what they can to deal with it less harshly than what custom dictates. She crosses a line that no matter which way she turns will have devastating consequences, so makes the decision she can best live with, keeping it a secret from everyone else.
Her life continues after this event, and through her we witness aspects of Chinese life for this young woman who has a chance to be more formally educated and become knowledgeable about all things to do with Pu’er tea, about all kinds of tea trees, with the additional connection of coming from a land where her lineage has been long connected to these ancient trees.
“The colour of the brew is rich and dark with mystery. The first flavour is peppery, but that fades to divine sweetness. The history of my people shimmers in my bones. With every sip, it’s as if I’m wordlessly reciting my lineage. I’m at once merged with my ancestors and with those who’ll come after me. I grew up believing that rice was to nourish and that tea was to heal. Now I understand that tea is also to connect and to dream.”
In addition to her own personal secret, she shares with her mother, the secret location of one particular ancient tea tree, one she has inherited by birth and in a location that must continue to be hidden, due to superstition.
“Is this my land?” I ask. “When I went to you a-ba in marriage, the old traditions were supposed to be over. No more buying and selling of women into slavery or marriage. No more dowries either. But it doesn’t matter what the government says. This land belongs to the women in our line. It is ours alone to control. It was given to me as my dowry as it will one day go to you with marriage.”
As the tea industry develops and booms and people begin to pay crazy prices for what perceive is precious, many in the village leave their old ways behind, following the allure of money and wealth. This too challenges relationships, friendships and threatens the long held bonds within the village.
Simultaneously to the narrative set in China, the story dips in and out of the life of an adoptee, Haley Davis in America. It is a less profound exploration of a complex subject within the novel, and at times an uncomfortable exposure of the significant issue of intra-country adoption.
Overall, an engrossing, eye opening, well researched historical novel, that will make you think about tea in ways you may never have done before.
Liane Moriarty is the author of the bestselling Big Little Lies and a number of other novels that fit into that easy, holiday reading category.
This is on my #20BooksofSummer23 list of titles taking up space on the bookshelf, and was in the category of ‘Other People’s Reads’, books passed on to me. This one is a hardback, I got to it early because it takes up almost three times as much space as many other good books I want on the shelf!
Nine people attend a remote health spa, somewhere north of Sydney, Australia. They have all responded to an enticing promotional offer to change their lives in ten days, so we get to know each of the characters and their backstory that lead them to want to do so (even though some instantly regret it once they’ve paid).
The novel opens in a corporate work environment, where an overworked, demanding woman is having some kind of attack, setting up an element of intrigue in the minds of readers, as it seems unrelated to the events that follow.
A romance novelist Frances, is one of the guests who thought it was a good idea to sign up at the time, well, she was coming of the back of a duplicitous online relationship, that she couldn’t believe she fell for, and now has the feeling she might have too impulsive, yet again…
The TripAdvisor reviews of Tranquillum House, which she’d looked at after she’d paid her nonrefundable fee, had been noticeably mixed. It was either the best, most incredible experience people had ever had, they wished they could give it more than five stars, they were evangelical about the food, the hot springs, the staff, or it was the worst experience of their entire lives, there was talk of legal action, post-traumatic stress, and dire warnings of “enter at your own peril”.
The owner of the retreat centre has decided to change things up a little, disappointed to discover that a good proportion of those who had attended in the past, looked as unhealthy on their 2nd or 3rd visits, as they had on their first. It’s clear that Masha has something in mind that might go beyond what this new batch of residents expects. There are some serious boundary issues about to be breached.
It’s an entertaining, light hearted read, with plenty of humorous elements, with the plot neatly tied up. It reads a little like a television series, with its episodic nature and cast of characters, but the interaction between the different personalities is also what keeps the pace humming along.
There is something a little sad about the way it inevitably mocks a well intended industry that didn’t sit comfortably with me, but it’s not a novel that’s going to stay with me for long, so I’ll let that one go.
Ideal holiday read, unless you are going on a well-being retreat.
I admit that I likely wouldn’t have read this if it hadn’t been pressed on to me to read by 3 people. I’ve seen it rise up the reading charts, and in reading it, I recognise that quality that makes some books become the one that goes beyond avid and even occasional readers, to reach those that rarely if ever read at all. And boom, it’s a worldwide bestseller.
Lessons in Chemistry centres around a young woman scientist/chemist Elizabeth Zott. It’s set in America between 1952 and the early 1960’s and Elizabeth has forged a path into science, and in the opinion of some has gone too far down that path. Her academic career is eventually upended by one man who decides to take matters in his own hands to stop her, though with her Masters complete, she is still able to find work in a lab.
Despite continued setbacks, prejudices, sexism, attempts to discredit or steal her work, she perseveres with her research. One day she meets her equally young, revered, male colleague Calvin Evans, helping herself to his stocks of beakers and it signals the beginning of a meeting of minds, a chemistry, between the two, that changes their lives.
Elizabeth is one of those quirky characters, like Eleanor in Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine and Majella in Michelle Gallen’sBig Girl, Small Town, she lacks a filter, is not overly sensitive to bad behaviour, innuendo and discrimination – rather she responds to it neutrally, factually, in a straight up, unemotional manner.
As we read, we realise how unusual that is, because every woman of a certain age, will recognise these workplace dynamics and recall themselves or someone in this situation and will remember how it was – and the pressure to dismiss it, to sweep it under the carpet, to not challenge it – because of the consequences (and lack of).
Elizabeth too receives the consequences of the relentless, ever-present misogyny, she gets kicked out out university, she’ll get fired, however she continues to bounce back, challenging the status quo.
She perseveres, because she is logical, because she had a different upbringing and wasn’t groomed and conditioned in the way many girls were to accept what she was encountering. It’s not because she has an attitude, it’s because of who she is, at her core. It is humorous because she perseveres, because she takes charge and continues to make her own decisions, never becoming the victim. She is never silenced.
Some describe this as funny. In my opinion, it is not. It is very real – but it is highly unusual to encounter a person, even in fiction, who exposes these aspects of society, and rises – and then finds a way – as she does with her new role, presenting cooking lessons on midday television as science lessons to housewives – starting a mini revolution.
“That’s why I wanted to use ‘Supper st Six’ to teach chemistry. Because when women understand chemistry, they begin to understand how things work.” Roth looked confused. “I’m referring to atoms and molecules , Roth, she explained. “The real rules that govern the physical world. When women understand these basic concepts, they can begin to see the false limits you create for them.” “You mean by men?” “I mean by artificial cultural and religious policies that put men in the highly unnatural role of single-sex leadership. Even a basic understanding of chemistry reveals the danger of such a lopsided approach.”
I won’t share the quote, because reading it for the first time is too good in the context of the story, but when the rowing coach complains to Elizabeth about how his wife has been influenced by her show, was one of my favourite laugh out loud moments in the book.
Elizabeth slowly gathers around her a supportive, small inner circle of people (and a dog) who get her, the relief of having such people in her life is palpable to the reader. Her friend Walter Pine, articulates in a moment, when he recalls the effect of first meeting her, a day she came to challenge him over his daughter stealing her daughter’s lunches.
She’d stormed past his secretaries in her white lab coat, hair pulled back, voice clear. He remembered feeling stunned by her. Yes, she was attractive, but it was only now that he realised it had little to do with how she looked. No, it was her confidence, the certainty of who she was. She sowed it like a seed until it took root in others.
The writing is pitch perfect, the story hums along at pace and like all greats summer reads, it gives the reader a sense of satisfaction. I would call this ‘magical satire’, because there is a wonderful dog character named Six-Thirty, whom Elizabeth assumes is intelligent, so teaches him a vast vocabulary, although she gives him what might be construed as superpowers, but he is a great character, going through his own coming-of-age, as he leaves an abusive environment to join their quirky family community.
Ultimately, perhaps it is merely about how in all aspects of life,even those deemed more masculine, women bring something different, something complementary and when we can work in partnership, alongside others, the result can be to empower and uplift and improve everyone’s lives, not just those in power, who want to dominate, or those beneath them who continue to support that model.
Bonnie Garmus is a copywriter and creative director who has worked widely in the fields of technology, medicine, and education. She is an open-water swimmer, a rower, and mother to two daughters. Born in California and most recently from Seattle, she currently lives in London with her husband and her dog, 99.
Whale is a clever satirical novel that is written in a fable-like way, using an all-seeing, all-knowing omniscient narrative voice, along with occasional interjections by the author, as he pauses the narrative and talks to the reader.
Set in a remote village in South Korea,it follows the interconnected lives of a series of unfortunate women, who go through various highs and lows, having experiences that the author tells us depict certain universal laws.
What is supposed to come always ends up coming, even without a harbinger. This was the law of fate.
It begins with Chunhui, a female brickmaker who learned her profession from her stepfather. She could also communicate with an insightful elephant. We learn that a fire burned the brickyard to the ground killing eight hundred souls and that she was charged with arson, imprisoned and tortured. She has just been freed and returned to the derelict site as the story begins.
Cocooned by the morning fog, the town faintly reveled its shape, mike a once prosperous ancient city fallen into ruin. Even at a distance she could see the remnants of the movie theatre looming up among the buildings, resembling a large whale breaching the surface for a breath. This whale-inspired theatre had been designed by Geumbok, Chunhui’s mother.
In effect, we start at the end and the novel then goes back in time, to how the brickyard came to be, starting with a woman who sold her daughter to a passing beekeeper for two jars of honey, another who built a cinema in the shape of a whale and the many reinventions of their lives as they embrace and discard different people, occupations and places, in pursuit of their desires.
Geumbok has a knack for spotting an opportunity, for seeing business potential and no fear of taking risks. Every idea she has makes her and those around her wealthy, until it doesn’t.
Geumbok’s understanding of ideology was very simplistic, but her convictions were firm, as most people’s are. This was the law of ideology.
A satire on Korean history and society, and perceived by some as ‘magical’, I found the relentless abuses and sexism towards the female characters wore me down and slowed the pace of reading. Perhaps it was the ‘knowing’ that things rarely ever come right, that any overcoming of obstacles or even resilience is eventually met with yet another example of tragedy, betrayal, seduction or disappointment.
I did enjoy the novel for the most part and I understand why it might have been a bestseller in Korea in the day (published 20 years ago), however it didn’t fit right for me, reading it in 2023, and had me craving for signs of social justice, improvement or anything that might leave the reader believing in some aspect of humanity.
I think that narratives are beginning to challenge that historical status quo of abuses towards women, the down-trodden and the poor and I find I have less tolerance and patience towards those that do little to redeem it.
‘The characters have the power of archetypes – they’ll haunt your dreams. Geumbok, the protagonist, is an irrepressible entrepreneur and individualist, but with contradictions – she is sly and gullible, loving and violent, dedicated and treacherous. You can’t take your eyes off her. The story, however, really belongs to Chunhui, her daughter, who is a tragic saint and a survivor.’ International BookerJudges
This is the first Anne Tyler novel I ever bought and it sat on the shelf for 19 years, finally read thanks to #20booksofsummer23 where I try to shift some of these titles that have been sitting years on the TBR (to be read) shelf. It was longlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction 2004.
Why hadn’t I picked it up before now? Something about the cover, the title and the blurb – Tyler is a master in writing domestic fiction and perhaps it is no coincidence, that it is now possible to read this from a greater distance than the past 19 years allowed.
I was initially a little skeptical as the opening chapters are a somewhat clichéd account of what seems like a perfect couple getting together, only it turns out they are not ideal matched at all, and that is what makes the novel interesting.
Hasty Marriages at the Outbreak of War
The story begins in 1944 in the Polish quarter of Baltimore, an area that hasn’t quite forgotten it’s Irish roots and associated prejudices.
America has just entered the war and Michael, the son of the grocery store owner is caught up in the whirlwind of enlisting while catching the eye of Pauline in her red coat, a girl from the other side of town (and life).
“Pauline was wearing read again. Red seemed to be her colour. A red sweater over a crisp white shirt with a rounded collar. It was known by now that she came from a neighbourhood north of Eastern Avenue; that she wasn’t even Catholic; that she worked as a receptionist in her father’s reality office.”
Once they are connected, the colours Pauline wears are toned down, a metaphor of the adjustment she makes to try and conform to what is expected.
…she’d changed her colours just at the very time when she was changing in people’s opinions. From dangerous and dramatic red to gentle, soft pastels, she’d gone.
Each chapter skips a few years and we see the effect of this mismatched couple that stay together, how each of their three children navigate that dysfunctional environment and the long term consequences of it.
“Pauline believed that marriage was an interweaving of souls, while Michael viewed it as two people travelling side by side but separately.”
Tyler explores the nuances of the relationship, seen from each parents’ perspective, though rarely from the point of view of the children, we see the consequence and observe how they choose to live their lives, in the wake of their parents marriage.
We are left to wonder about the impact of generational attitudes and how the institution of marriage moulds everyone around it, for better, worse or otherwise.
On the evening of June 14, 2023 the judges, authors and many fans came together for the announcement of the winner of the women’s prize for fiction. You may remember these six novels were on the shortlist:
Women’s Prize Fiction shortlist 2023
The 2023 Women’s Prize for Fiction is Barbara Kingsolver’sDemon Copperhead!
Barbara Kingsolver, Demon Copperhead
In her speech Barbara Kingsolver said:
“There is no best novel, there is just a best novel for each one of us, that is what is amazing and magical about literature…Literature is how we make our hearts grow bigger and that is how we change the world.”
Institutional Poverty and the Effect on Children
Demon Copperhead is a heartfelt, gritty, poignant novel set in the Appalachian mountains in Virginia, USA. A re-imagining of CharlesDickens’David Copperfield for modern times, it tells the story of the relentless struggles and triumphs of a young boy born into poverty as he navigates foster care, labour exploitation, addiction, love and loss, while grappling with his invisibility in a culture that neglects rural communities.
I do love a good Barbara Kingsolver novel and have been a fan ever since reading the novel she is most well known for, The Poisonwood Bible. Since then, I have read and reviewed here, The Lacuna (2009) (her 6th novel and also winner of the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2010), Prodigal Summer (2000) (5th novel) and Flight Behaviour (2012)(7th novel). Winning this year makes her the first double winner for the Women’s Prize for Fiction in its 28 year history.
Demon Copperhead, from all I have read in reviews, was always going to be an award winning and popular novel, and many are calling it the novel Barbara Kingsolver was destined to write.
As Chair of judges, author and journalist Louise Minchinsaid:
“Barbara Kingsolver has written a towering, deeply powerful and significant book. In a year of outstanding fiction by women, we made a unanimous decision on Demon Copperhead as our winner. Brilliant and visceral, it is storytelling by an author at the top of her game. We were all deeply moved by Demon, his gentle optimism, resilience and determination despite everything being set against him.
An exposé of modern America, its opioid crisis and the detrimental treatment of deprived and maligned communities, Demon Copperhead tackles universal themes – from addiction and poverty, to family, love, and the power of friendship and art – it packs a triumphant emotional punch, and is a novel that will withstand the test of time.”
I am definitely going to read it, it was also co-recipient of the 2023 American Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. It might be time to dust off the Dickens as well.
Have you read Demon Copperhead, or do you think you might be tempted?
Cathy at 746 Books is hosting the annual 20 Books of Summer challenge, one I have never participated in, but I decided this year that I’m going to try and make space on the bookshelves and donate more books in September to a local vide grenier in Ansouis, Vaucluse, where there is always a large sale of English books.
Below are the 20 books I am will read from this summer, from now until the end of August. I’m predominantly a mood reader, however August is Women in Translation #WITmonth, so I have included a few titles for that. Here are the books on my list:
Other People’s Books, Their Must-Reads
The pile on the left are books that have been lent or given to me by friends, these are books that when I see them on the shelf, I think, I must hurry up and read that, because I need to let my friend know what I thought of it. They are promising, because they were loved by the person who gave it to me! So come on Claire, hurry up and read them, there are potential gems hiding in here!
The title link is to the description in Goodreads, when I’ve finished, I’ll add a link at the end to my review.
Nine Perfect Strangers by Liane Moriarty – I’m starting here today and it’s already given me a few laugh out loud moments. Nine people attend a remote health spa, somewhere north of Sydney, Australia, they’ve all responded to the offer to change their lives in 10 days, but who exactly is this intriguing person who is going to turn their lives around? On verra! – my review
The Maid by Nita Prose – a friend bought this as an airport read and it was the the Goodreads Winner for Best Mystery & Thriller in 2022, it’s described as a locked-room mystery and a heartwarming journey of the spirit, exploring what it means to be the same as everyone else and yet entirely different. – my review
The Tea Girl of Hummingbird Lane by Lisa See – hugely popular author of historical fiction, often connected to China, this novel is set in a remote mountain village tea plantation, exploring the rituals and traditions of the Akha people and the effect of a stranger in their midst. It promises strong and complex female characters and insights into little known aspects of Chinese culture. – my review
All Are Welcome by Liz Parker – this romantic comedy novel was given to me by a friend and it was written by her cousin, got to support family ventures! A darkly funny novel about brides, lovers, friends and family and all the secrets and skeletons in the closet that come with them. Described by one reader as a hybrid ‘beach read’, character-driven, dysfunctional family story.
Purged by Fire: Heresy of the Cathars by Diane Bonavist – a little known work of historical fiction about the struggle of the Cathars of the Languedoc region in Southern France (who rejected the teachings of the Catholic church) in the 13th century, and the papal directive to to root them out as they were deemed heretics, to confiscate property, and burn the unrepentant at the stake. Here is a story of three people trapped in the fatal complicities of that Inquisition.
Dreams of Trespass by Fatema Mernisse – tales of a girlhood harem, this is a memoir of a young girl’s growing up in a French Morroccan harem in Fez, set against the backdrop of WWII.
The Promise by Damon Galgut – this won the Booker Prize in 2021 and was lent to me by a friend, despite me saying I wasn’t going to read it, the premise sounds very much like the incredible South African novel Agaat by Marlene van Niekerk that I read in 2015, but I need to give this back, so…
My Name is Resolute by Nancy E.Turner – this author wrote one of my favourite historical fiction trilogies about a pioneer woman who sought a living in the harsh, untamed lands of the Arizona Territory circa late 1800’s. They were based on the author’s great grandmother Sarah Prine; These is My Words, Sarah’s Quilt, A Star Garden. This new book, begins in 1729, the heartfelt story of a woman struggling to find herself during the tumultuous years preceding the American Revolution.
Women in Translation #WITMonth
The pile on the right are all books I really want to read soon and they are a mix of works by women in translation and other books that I feel will be easy to pick up and get lost in, not overly challenging. I think I may be being rather ambitious as not only am I working throughout the summer, I have visitors coming and going throughout most of July and August. But there is a sense of freedom that summer brings and it is light so late, I’m going to create the list and then just see what happens.
Fresh Dirt From the Grave by Giovanna Rivero (Bolivia) tr. Isabel Adey (Spanish) – gothic short stories from Latin America, this is part of my annual subscription to Charco Press. Six tales of a dark beauty that throb with disturbing themes: the legitimacy of revenge, incest as survival, indigenous witchcraft versus Japanese wisdom, the body as a corpse we inhabit. Rivero’s stories pierce the reader like a wound, but in the end also offer possibilities of love, justice and hope.
Elena Knows by Claudia Piñeiro (Argentina) tr. Frances Riddle (Spanish) – a word of mouth sensation and International Booker Prize shortlist (2022) I’ve been wanting to read this for ages, so added it my 2023 bundle from Charco. The author has another book coming into English in July this year A Little Luck, so I may even get to that title this summer. – my review
Boulder by Eva Baltasar (Spain) tr. Julia Sanches (Catalan) – shortlisted for the International Booker (2023) Eva Baltasar demonstrates her preeminence as a chronicler of queer voices navigating a hostile world― in prose as brittle and beautiful as an ancient saga. – my review
Permafrost by Eva Baltasar (Spain) tr. Julia Sanches (Catalan) – having learned Boulder was #2 of a Triptych, I’ve added #1 to the list. Full of powerful, physical imagery, this prize-winning debut novel by acclaimed Catalan poet Eva Baltasar was a word-of-mouth hit in its own language. It is a breathtakingly forthright call for women’s freedom to embrace both pleasure and solitude, and speaks of the body, of sex, and of the self. There’s a third book Mamut not yet translated. – my review
My Summer Reading
My Fourth Time, We Drowned by Sally Hayden – this non-fiction, journalistic masterpiece is chronicle of the plight of refugees that find themselves in Mediterranean water’s and the implicated political decisions that have made their lives that much worse. I came across this after reading Leila Aboulela’s River Spirit, historical fiction set in Sudan. Sally Hayden has written about the situation in Sudan today. Her book won the Orwell Prize for Political Writing 2022 and is described as a must read. #humanrights – my review
The Coroner’s Daughter by Andrew Hughes – I should have read this in April, it was the One Dublin One Book choice for 2023. Last year we read the excellent Nora by Nuala O’Connor about the lives of Nora and James Joyce, this year it’s historical fiction set in 1816 Dublin, about a young lady sleuth operating at the dawn of forensic science.
Promise at Dawn by Romain Gary – I have this in English and French and my neighbour keeps telling me to read it,I know this is going to be a gem, it is the story of the love for his mother that was his very life, their secret and private planet, their wonderland “born out of a mother’s murmur into a child’s ear, a promise whispered at dawn of future triumphs and greatness, of justice and love.”
Homesick by Jennifer Croft – another title from Charco Press, not translated, but the author is a translator. This is a work of autobiographical fiction, longlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction.
The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak – I’ve read 4 of her novels The Forty Rules of Love, The Bastard of Istanbul, Three Daughters of Eve and Honour and one work of nonfiction The Happiness of Blond People – A Personal Meditation on the Dangers of Identity. I’m always interested in the work of Turkish writer Elif Shafak, who writes from the perspective, and comes from, the place where East meets West.
Daughter of the King by Kerry Chaput – set in La Rochelle, France 1661 – historical fiction based on the true story of the French orphans who settled Canada, a story of one young woman’s fight for true freedom.
End of Story by Louise Swanson – and here is the wonderful Louise Beech, whose novel How To Be Brave was such an unforgettable experience; this novel sees her using a new pen name for a different genre, a novel that is making a bit of a splash, it came about after a tweet made by a British politician (now the Prime Minister) suggested that people in the arts ought to retrain.
“This got me trying to imagine about a world without the arts. Without stories.”
Have you read any of these titles above, any recommendations, suggestions as to which to read first? Do you have summer (or winter) reading plans? Let me know in the comments below.
Word by Word 