A Flash Book Sale & Library Haul

Recently I attended a flash booksale at a small local English library, donating a bag of books and picking up a few temptations, despite going with the intention of not buying.

New Daughters of Africa

I was remarkably restrained and only bought four books, one of which is more of a reference book, but one that introduces many other authors. I’m talking about the New Daughters of Africa by Margaret Busby, her second anthology of over 200 women writers of African descent, the follow up to the original landmark anthology, Daughters of Africa (1992).

This new companion volume brings together fresh and vibrant voices that have emerged more fully in the last 25 years, but looks back over all the decades of the 1900’s. It does not duplicate any of the authors from that first anthology, but updates it and included more contemporary authors.

I enjoy reading unique African women voices, whether of Africa or the Caribbean, or Francophone and it is helpful to have a repository of those voices in one collection.

It is from Margaret Busby’s earlier list of authors that I discovered and have read/reviewed authors like Buchi Emecheta (Nigeria/UK), Mariama Ba (Senegal), Ann Petry (US), Nella Larsen (Danish Caribbean/US), Zora Neale Hurston (US), Simone Schwartz Bart (Guadaloupe), Tsitsi Dangarembga (Zimbabwe), Gayl Jones (US), Audre Lorde (US), Octavia Butler (US), bell hooks (US), Wangari Maathai (Kenya) and the late, great Maryse Condé (France/Guadalupe)

Now in this second anthology, among others we find Leila Aboulela (Sudan/Scotland), Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ̀ (Nigeria), Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (Nigeria), Edwidge Danticat (Haiti), Yvvette Edwards (UK), Nawal El Saadawi (Egypt), Aminatta Forna (Sierra Leone), Bernadine Evaristo (UK), Maaza Mengiste (Ethiopia), Afua Hirsch (UK), Andrea Levy (UK/Jamaica), Imbolo Mbue (Cameroon), Marie NDiaye (France), Chinelo Okparanta (Nigeria), Yewande Omotoso (Sth Africa/Barbadoes), Namwali Serpell (Zambia), Warsan Shire (Somali/Kenya/UK), Zadie Smith (UK), Jesmyn Ward (US).

Literary Travel and Insight

New Daughters of Africa Margaret Busby Daisy Jones and the Six Lucy By the Sea Flights Olga Tokarczuk

As well as this great find, I also picked up a copy of Flights by Olga Tokarczuk, the brilliant Polish author and winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2018, the same year that she won the International Booker Prize for this fragmentary novel Flights, a book based on some of her own experiences as a traveller that she describes as a constellation novel, constructed from small fragments. The judges said:

‘We loved the voice of the narrative – it’s one that moves from wit and gleeful mischief to real emotional texture and has the ability to create character very quickly, with interesting digression and speculation.’

I recall buying it as a gift for a family member, but I did not read it myself. I did read and adored Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk tr. Antonia Lloyd-Jones and it was my One Outstanding Read of 2022, so I am keen to explore more of her work, despite knowing it can be quite complex.

Here’s a description of the novel:

Olga Tokarczuk’s unique novel interweaves reflections on travel with an exploration of human anatomy – examining life and death, motion and migration.

In the 17th century, the Dutch anatomist Philip Verheyen dissects and draws pictures of his own amputated leg. On to the 18th century, where a North African-born slave turned Austrian courtier is stuffed and put on display after his death. Next stop is the 19th century, as we follow Chopin’s heart making the covert journey from Paris to Warsaw. Final destination is the present, with the harrowing story of a young husband whose wife and child mysteriously vanish on holiday on a Croatian island.

A Comfort Read and a Musical Drama

The other two I picked up were Lucy By the Sea (2022) by Elizabeth Strout, which is a follow on novel in the Amgash, Illinois Series, to My Name is Lucy Barton (2016), Anything is Possible (2017), Oh William! (2021), and Tell Me Everything (2024). I haven’t read the third in the series, but I see they have a copy in the library. Strout is great comfort read, immersing into her characters’ lives is perfect for winter.

Atmosphere Taylor Jenkins Reid Daisy Jones and the Six

And finally I picked up Daisy Jones and the Six (2019) by Taylor Jenkins Reid, a novel about the rise and implosion of a 1970’s rock band (loosely based on Fleetwood Mac and the volatile dynamics between Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham) and now a TV series, because I like musical dramas and would like to read the book first.

I have her latest novel Atmosphere (2025), a space novel, which I might read first, because I don’t think it is as good, so I’d rather save the best for last.

She is well known for her emotionally immersive storytelling and readable plotlines, her debut historical fiction novel, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (2017) about a reclusive Hollywood icon was a runaway bestseller.

Mood Reading and Library Obligations

So that’s it, watch out for reviews of these coming in 2026, I’ve started the year somewhat randomly, but aware that library books have to be returned, so I’ll be sharing those soon, the first one I have already reviewed was Intermezzo by Sally Rooney.

Have you read any of the books or authors I shared here? Let us know what you recommend or if you enjoyed any of these three novels I picked up in the sale.

Intermezzo by Sally Rooney (2024)

After donating a bag of books at a recent book sale, I spotted a few novels on the shelves of this small English library that I was curious about, so joined the library and came home with four popular titles I thought I might read over the festive season, the first one being Intermezzo by Irish author Sally Rooney. I had heard it discussed by the Irish Times Woman’s Podcast Bookclub where thoughts on it were quite divisive.

Sally Rooney’s earlier novels Conversations With Friends (2017), Normal People (2018) and Beautiful World, Where Are You (2021) all examine how educated young people try to love each other under conditions of class inequality, political exhaustion, and intense self-consciousness, where desire is constantly constrained by these factors and the question then becomes whether love can survive these somewhat undermining conditions.

An Irish Millennial Perspective

Intermezzo by Sally Rooney Irish literature 2025

I haven’t read anything by Rooney, however knowing those novels have been a huge international success, being a writer with her literary pen poised on particular millennial characteristics, I picked up the latest, Intermezzo (2024) set in modern day Dublin, to understand what that might be all about.

I finished it in late December and overall I enjoyed it, though in the beginning I found it a little tiresome and repetitive, especially all the awkward self-conscious sex scenes between the younger brother and his newfound lover, but as the story progressed and the conflicts and mysteries become more present in the narrative, it became ever more psychologically interesting and I ended up really liking it. So it almost lost me in the beginning, but ultimately (in 442 pages) it gets there and I’m all the more appreciative of it for going back and considering it again now, from a distance.

Grief As a Turning and Growth Point

The Kindness of Enemies Leila Aboulela The Queen's Gambit Intermezzo Sally Rooney
Photo C. Solorzano Pexels.com

The novel charts the months following the father’s premature death and how it affects his two sons Ivan 22, a socially awkward, competitive chess player who has not been on form recently and is questioning whether he might be past his best, and his elder brother Peter 32, a corporate, detached Dublin lawyer juggling two relationships and medicating himself to get sleep.

You know, a lot of people told me I was letting it take up too much time, and I just thought they didn’t understand. But now I think, maybe I’ve really wasted a lot of my life.

Unresolved Mother Son Issues

The boys mother has long since moved on to a new relationship and the boys have complicated relationships with her.

I guess I would say, if you’re interested, they’re both kind of dominant personalities. Who like getting their own way. So my mother trying to be the authority figure, that never went down too well with Peter, if you get me. Because he wouldn’t be a great fan of getting bossed around.

I see, Margaret says.

Ivan is looking at her. Yeah, he says. Whereas with me, I guess, my mother can be the authority more. But with no great results, because she’s never happy with me.

Photo: Katrin Bolovtsova

The brothers have different personalities and are no longer close like they once were. In fact, they find it difficult being around each other without emotions escalating to volatility. And yet. Underneath, there’s a desire to connect.

Without their father present in their lives, they get easily derailed, falling into old destructive patterns. Something needs to shift and change if they are to arrive in a place of acceptance.

The same ritual he thinks each time. She tries to extract from him some valuably hurtful information and he tries to conceal from her any aspect of his life in which he suspects she might gain a foothold. Her fake innocuous queries and his studied evasions. Screens her calls whenever Naomi is home. Why does his mother even want to know; why does he want not to. Contest for dominance. Story of his life.

In essence, this is what the novel explores. Are these two brothers able to grow through the grieving process into a new form of relationship with each other that might sustain them in the years ahead? And can they successfully be in a relationship with another, given the stagnant place they are currently at.

Millennial Self-Consciousness and Entangled Love Lives

They are each trying to navigate romantic relationships, and here there is much interiority expressed, both anxiety and indecisiveness, but the feelings push them forward and the interactions they have with women allow them to be tested and move forward as they confront someone else they have feelings for and have to adapt to stay in relationship.

Ivan meets the older, separated Art Centre Manager, 36 year old Margaret, who struggles with how they might be perceived due to the age difference, but she can’t deny the strong connection and positive effect they have on each other. They must explore their own different perspectives and experiences to maintain that something they have together, if it is deemed worth it.

Dimly she wonders now whether she has been thinking somehow about herself, her own circumstances, and she feels her face again growing flushed. It is this, she thinks, her own sense of identification, that has thrown everything into confusion. She has lost sight of the brother Ivan has been describing, replacing him with herself, and therefore attributing to herself a greater understanding of his motives than she could possibly possess.

Peter is navigating the familiar, intellectually compatible friendship with his ex-girlfriend Sylvia, a chronically ill English literature professor he’s known since college, and a more challenging, non-committal relationship with student Naomi who sells images of herself online to help fund her studies.

Unclear whether you’re cheating on me with her, or you’re cheating on her with me, she said. Absentmindedly he considered the proposition. Either option preferable he thought. Dignity of old-fashioned faithlessness. Neither, he answered. Sylvia is a very dear friend of mine. And you’re just a homeless college student who lives in my house. That made her laugh. The actual disrespect, she said.

Using Voice Stylistically to Create Power Dynamics

Photo by Leeloo Pexels.com

Rooney explores how intimacy is negotiated under constant moral and social evaluation, both from the family and society and from one’s own self-judgement.

Peter’s thoughts are expressed in short, clipped, declarations with little depth, a voice trained to avoid vulnerability, and control interpretation, reducing the risk of him being misunderstood or judged, which doesn’t always help navigate the path of more intimate relationships.

This controlled minimal manner of speaking suits his profession and will have developed as he absorbed criticism in the maternal relationship and created a habit regarding his brother. His short sentences create discomfort, they become a form of domination by withholding forcing the other to elaborate.

They are initially disconcerting to read, but after a while you get used to the style. This manner has been said by some to be ‘Joycean’ not because it is like Ulysses in style, but because it shares with Joyce a particular attitude to consciousness, authority, and language under pressure. This way of expression gives Peter’s voice a hard, self-contained quality that Joyce often gave to male consciousness.

Meanwhile Ivan’s longer, more considered sentences allow for doubt and consideration, for exploration and confirmation in the relationship. Oh, and there is a touching storyline around the family whippet.

A Long Positional Game

Ultimately every character has a reckoning, no one is immune to the need to look at their own part in creating some of the perceived conflict and the novel travels the arc from the initial state of these relationships, through the hashing things out, blame, judgement, self pity, self consciousness, fear of what others might think, and out the other side to talking it out, owning up, allowing unconventionally without fear of judgement, settling differences through to forgiveness.

It’s not a fast paced read, it’s more of a slow, gradual navigation of challenging relationships between not particularly likeable characters, but that makes it all the more interesting to see how and whether they might overcome the exit of the one person who was their centre, and move to a healthier way of co-existing. It is an exploration of buried pain and unresolved issues meeting new opportunities and fresh hurts. A long, positional game played in mutual fear of getting it wrong.

Further Reading

The Guardian – Intermezzo by Sally Rooney review – is there a better writer at work right now?

Chicago Review of Books – Mixing Loss with Life in “Intermezzo” by Cait O’Neill, October 1, 2024

Author Sally Rooney

Sally Rooney is an Irish novelist from Castlebar, Country Mayo. She is the author of Conversations With Friends, Normal People and Beautiful World, Where Are You.

Interesting Fact: While attending Trinity College Dublin, Rooney was a university debater and in 2013 became the top debater at the European Universities Debating Championships.

Best Books of 2025 Top Reads in Translation

Apaprt from committing to read Women in Translation in August, I read less consciously and more by mood or whatever stood out on the shelf this year.

Though I read more books, I read from the same number of countries, but less in translation. In 2024, 33% (20 books) of the titles I read were in translation – a conscious effort. This year only 15%. It is also in part the effect of taking a subscription, I loved most of the Charco Press titles I read, but there were some I was less inclined to read; I would look at them and then choose something else.

It’s about discernment. So I remove those books from the shelf and more carefully research those I have no hesitation in wanting to read. I chose well this summer and so I here are the best seven titles I highly recommend. I’ll be making a more conscious effort to read more in translation in 2026, so please share with me your favorites from this year.

Top 7 Reads in Translation

The Runner Up Outstanding Read of 2025

Somebody is Walking On Your Grave: My Cemetery Journeys, Mariana Enriquez (Argentina) tr. Megan McDowell

See yesterday’s post Runner Up for Outstanding Book of the Year. The author travels to 13 countries over two decades, visiting cemeteries – mixing travelogue, personal history, cultural history and collective memory. I read the essays over a month, each one exhibiting not just the protocols around death, but the context of different eras that each country has been through, and how that has impacted the collective memory. Her essays take the reader to :

Europe: Italy, Spain, France, United Kingdom (England & Scotland), Czech Republic, Germany
Americas: Argentina, Chile, Mexico, United States, Peru, Cuba
Oceania: Australia

Argentina in the ’70s, the decade where I was born, had a dictatorship that made a lot of bodies disappear. Therefore, there’s a generation of people that were killed by the government, and they don’t have a grave.

I realized that that trauma, that is very engraved in my life, somehow made me feel that a grave, a tombstone – it’s something of comfort. It’s a final thing in a good way.

Far by Rosa Riba (Spain) tr. Charlotte Coombe

Book cover of English translation of Far by Rosa Ribas translated by Charlotte Coombe, mountain and monastery of Montserrat, Catalonia in the background

Far was a novel I came across by the relatively new publisher of Mediterranean literature, Foundry Editions after reading an article in the Guardian about a building project in Spain, 13,500 affordable apartments built to house 40,000 people, a ghost town after the global financial crisis, and the deepest economic recession Spain had experienced for fifty years.

Author Rosa Ribas was taken by friends to visit this strange monument to a broken era in Seseña; the housing development was known as ‘The Manhattan of La Mancha’ and as night fell three lights came on and inspired an idea for her novel Far, a story of determined inhabitants trying to create community, while others are escaping who knows what? We follow two characters, both dealing with issues, one in hiding, the other part of the community. Tensions rise, the locals become paranoid and angry at their untenable situation, mirroring the disintegration of the country’s economic situation, disenfranchised youth and a rise in racism and xenophobia.

The entire development was constructed on a pile of poorly concealed sleaze, a chain of bribery, corruption, intimidation, and complicit silences. No ancient manuscripts, no mythical foundations. If these lands had been the scene of some momentous event, back when battles of conquest and reconquest were being fought all over the area, no one had bothered to record it. It was a bleak place, devoid of stories, where it was impossible to satisfy any yearnings for greatness.

The Body Where I Was Born by Guadalupe Nettel (Mexico) tr. J.T. Lichenstein

The Body Where I Was Born by Guadalupe Nettel

Having loved Still Born by the same author, I picked this up and was equally mesmerised. This novel is a semi-autobiographical coming of age story set in the 1970’s, that follows a girl’s childhood in Mexico, the things that marked her experience, that she looks back on now (from a therapist’s chair) with a better understanding of the impact.

She ponders the harm of parental regimes and how they perpetuate onto the next generation the neuroses of one’s forebears, in her case her parents were ‘open-minded’ in a way that ultimately lead to the disintegration of the family and a period of living with a grandmother who disliked her. She and her brother then move to the south of France while her mother pursues studies and a new love.

Enjoying it, I was surprised to learn the narrative moved to the same town where I live. The siblings navigate life at a local school among pupils from multiple origins, North African, Indian, Asian, Caribbean and French, a unique and unforgettable experience, very much unlike the international schools they had attended elsewhere.

It is an engaging, insightful recollection of an atypical upbringing, within different cultures. Loved it!

To survive in this climate, I had to adapt my vocabulary to the local argot – a mix of Arabic and Southern French – that was spoken around me, and my mannerisms to those of the lords of the cantine.

All That Remains by Virginie Grimaldi (France) tr. by Hildegarde Serle (French)

Another book set in France, this time set in Paris, this a page turner from the opening chapters, a feel good novel and another that I was attracted to due to its connection to real life events. I had heard about elderly widowed Parisians in largish apartments being assisted by a specialist agency that matched them with mature students as a way to keep them in their own homes, and to provide students with accomodation.

This is the premise of the novel; recently widowed Jeanne (74) decides to rent one of her rooms and two people quickly respond, an 18 year old Théo, apprentice boulanger, of no fixed abode and a thirty something Iris, who is escaping from something. It’s a perfect slice of ordinary life in Paris and a wonderful example of a new way to live, where young and old help each out and all the better for it.

“Hello Madame, I just wanted to confirm my interest in your room for rent. And please know that, if it weren’t for my tricky situation, I’d never have interrupted your conversation with the young man, who also seems in real need of a home. If you’ve not yet made your choice, I’d understand if you favour him. Regards Iris.”

The Brittle Age (L’età fragile) by Donatella Di Pietrantonio (Italy) tr. Ann Goldstein

Winner of the 2024 Strega Prize, The Brittle Age is a novella inspired by an historic true-crime event in the 1990’s, a double femicide in the mountainous region of the Abruzzo Apennines in Italy, a novel dedicated to “all the women who survive”. The third novel I’ve enjoyed by her, since A Girl Returned and A Sister’s Story.

Though it is framed by an actual event, this novel really piqued my interest for the way it dealt with the mother-daughter relationship. Lucia’s daughter Amanda returns from Milan on one of the last trains as the pandemic shuts everything down, she stays in her room, barely eats, doesn’t talk, her phone lies uncharged under the bed. Lucia worries but can get nothing out of her.

The novel explores both the events of the past and the mother’s struggle to understand what is going on with her daughter. Amanda’s reclusiveness awakens memories and feelings Lucia has suppressed from 30 years ago. Although the story is about a crime, the mystery of what happens sits alongside the portrait of a fractured family and community, all impacted by the past, burying it with silence. I loved the balance of revelations of both past events and present predicaments, a most memorable read.

Our birthplace had protected us for a long time, or maybe that had been a false impression. We grew up in a single night.

All Our Yesterdays, Natalia Ginzburg (Italy) tr. Angus Davidson, Intro Sally Rooney

This might be my favourite Natalia Ginzburg novel – it sits alongside her family memoir Family Lexicon and often reminded me of parts of that book, clearly inspired by events she lived through.

Set in Northern Italy in the lead up to WWII, the war era through to liberated, it is a brilliant depiction of two Italian families (one family own the leather factory in town, the other is middle class), neighbours who live opposite each and everyone they’re connected to, everyone who enters their home – what they live through during this era, how they keep tabs on each other, the dilemmas they face, how they deal with them, their tragedies and accomplishments, their loves and losses.

The absence of the mother, and the ill health of their authoritarian father, intent on writing a memoir critical of the regime, looms over them and creates tension and an air of rebellion. Youth desire change and autonomy in a country that feels increasingly oppressive leading them towards risk and turbulent decisions.

This story and its characters was so immersive, and the depiction of difficult times treated with compassion, as we encounter each event, every friend or person connected to those two households. When not present they are the subject of letters, so at almost all times everyone is aware of the well-being of the others. In the second part of the novel, the focus shifts to the impoverished rural Italian south

It was so, so good, it really gives a sense of what it was like to live through this period for this family, especially knowing the hardship the author lived through, her young, anti-fascist husband Leone was tortured and murdered by the Gestapo.

This was a war in which no one would win or lose, in the end it would be seen that everyone had more or less lost.

Brandy Sour by Constantia Soteriou (Cyprus) tr. Lina Protopapa (Greek)

Another favourite from Foundry Editions, this is a wonderful novella that is like a series of vignettes set in an old hotel in Cyprus, each one from the perspective of a character with a connection to the hotel, their story told through a tale related to a particular beverage and often how it cures them of various afflictions. Clever but simplistic and there are threads that carry through making it read more like an interconnected story than separate stories.

He always wakes at dawn and he goes to the kitchen to have his coffee prepared the way he likes it. The only coffee of the day. With lots of kaymak and no sugar. Turkish coffee – Greek coffee, he always corrects himself – with sugar is an absolute waste of coffee. It needs to be bitter. There’s no point otherwise.

Coffee Brandy Sour turkish greek cofee Cyprus
Photo S. Daboul Pexels.com

The emblematic Ledra Palace Hotel was established in 1949 on Nicosia’s UN-controlled buffer zone, the Green Line that, since 1964, has divided the island into Greek Cypriot and Turkish Cypriot sectors and reading the book one discovers a little known history of the island and its people, those who visited int he past, from colonial visitors to the Egyptian King, employees, local villagers.

“The Palace was the epicentre of the island’s recent history. It was built as the promise of a new era; a haven for all nationalities, all communities. It drew people from all backgrounds: the wealthy bourgeoisie who lounged by its cerulean pool; the poorer working classes who made its beds – and its Brandy Sours…”

* * * * * *

That’s it for 2025. Let me know what works in translation were your favourites this year. Thanks for reading and sharing and commenting. Happy Reading!

Further Reading

My Top Fiction Reads of 2025

My Top Non-Fiction Reads of 2025

Saltblood by Francesca de Tores

In a rented room outside Plymouth in 1685, a daughter is born as her half-brother is dying. Her mother makes a decision: Mary will become Mark, and Ma will continue to collect his inheritance money.

Girls Initially Raised as Boys

As I began to read about Mary Read in Saltblood by Tasmanian author Francesca de Tores, I had a sense of deja vu. I paused reading and revisited my review of Irish author Nuala O’Connor’s Seaborne, another work of historical fiction, but focused on Kinsale born Anne Bonny.

Stories of Real Female Pirates

In Saltblood, we meet Mary Read (true historical figure), raised by her mother as Mark, a practical solution to poverty, inheritance laws and social restrictions.

After such a beginning, perhaps not surprisingly, Mary preferred for some years to live as Mark, due to opportunity and freedom. Working in service in a grand house as a man led to her/him enlisting in the Navy, then as the battles moved to land, joining the Army.

From the Military to Piracy

Settling for a short period as a married woman, she would then return to the sea after a tragic loss.

I went to sea a girl dressed as a boy, and I come back as something else entirely. I come back sea-seasoned: watchful of winds, and with an eye on the tides. I do not know if I have come back wiser, or better or perhaps madder. But I am not the same. What the sea takes, it does not return.

Initially working as crew for a privateer ship (authority sanctioned raiders); when they are raided by pirates, she elects to jump ship to escape the overly attentive Captain Payton and joins pirate Captain Jack Rackman. Although in her earlier years in the navy and army she was disguised, her later years at sea she presents as a woman, but is accepted as one of the crew due to her experience and abilities.

Pirating Protocols

Most pirates know the rules: go in fierce and fast, and the captains will beg for quarter, just as Payton did, and the Spaniards now do too.

One of the things the novel does well is really give you an idea of how pirating and raids work, for a start each member of the crew is made to sign a contract ‘articles of conduct’ that state policies around behaviour, pirate behavior (such as drunkenness, fighting, and interaction with women) and disciplinary action should a code be violated. Failing to honour the Articles could get a pirate marooned, whipped, even executed. It was the Captain’s way to maintain order and avoid dissent and ensure loyalty. The articles stated how gains would be shared.

There was a lot less fighting than we might imagine. Pirates preferred their target acquiesce. A black flag signaled to a vessel that they were about to be attacked, but that “quarter” would be given. This meant the pirates would not kill everyone on board if they cooperated and handed over any cargo. Seeing the black flag instilled fear and alerted ships to what was about to happen. If crew members did not fight, they might save their lives, but not their cargo.  Crew sometimes elected to join the pirate ship as Mary did.

A Companion Crow

Photo by Alex Jaison on Pexels.com

One of the interesting fictional elements in de Tore’s version of Mary Read’s life is the appearance of a crow that follows Mary on land and out to sea. The crows presence acts as a warning to the men, it is not a good sign to them, but for Mary, it’s presence is reassuring.

A bird that can pounce from the top of the mainmast to skewer a sardine in the water, or snatch a crab from under rock and find out its soft parts, is a bird that sees well, and clear. It counts, this witnessing. To live your life under the vigilance of a crow is a kind of covenant.

A Pirate Nest in the Bahamas

Nassau became the base for English privateers, many of whom became lawless pirates over time. The Bahamas were ideal as a base for pirates as its waters were too shallow for a large man-of-war but deep enough for the fast, shallow vessels favoured by pirates.

It was here that Mary Read eventually met and befriended the much younger (by 15 years), emboldened Anne Bonny, encountered in Seaborne by Nuala O’Connor. The two women became fast friends, though opposite personalities.

Anne falls for Captain Jack and decides to join the crew, deepening her relationship with Mary simultaneously.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Next to Anne Bonny, so bold and notorious, I had thought myself meek and colourless, and my story of little note. Yet she never tires of asking me about my years in the navy, and the army. Even my years on the Walcheren, which to me seem largely drab, fascinate Anne.

A Governor on a Mission

Saltblood continues to narrate the scrapes and adventures these two embark on and the efforts of Captain Rackham to avoid Governor Rogers, an English sea captain, privateer and colonial administrator who governed the Bahamas from 1718 to 1721 and again from 1728 to 1732. He aimed to rid the colony of pirates.

Initially I started then put this aside due to that feeling of having read something too similar, it starts off slowly and didn’t really pull me in, but more recently I picked it up again and continued only to find it much more engaging, as Mary is indeed quite a different character to Anne, and I enjoyed her land adventures as much as those at sea and the way their piracy days end is unforgettable.

After reading this I noticed I had another pirate book on my shelf, a work of history, The Stolen Village: Baltimore and the Barbary Pirates by Des Ekin, review coming soon.

Further Reading

Reviewed by Lisa at ANZ LitLovers

Author, Francesca de Tores

Francesca de Tores is a novelist, poet and academic. She is the author of five previous novels, published in over 20 languages, including Saltblood, which won the 2024 Wilbur Smith Adventure Writing Prize.

In addition to a collection of poems, her poetry is published widely in journals and anthologies. She grew up in Lutruwita/Tasmania and, after fifteen years in England, is now living in Naarm/Melbourne.

Buckeye by Patrick Ryan

Buckeye by Patrick Ryan

I have a ton of reviews to write, having been in a bit of a reading frenzy, so starting with the difficult task of one for whom I loved to begin with and then wanted to throw across the room.

Buckeye is popular work of historical fiction in the US and it is a novel a friend asked me if I had read, after seeing a promising review in the New York Times, buying a copy, abandoning it after 100 pages.

Although suspect, because there is a point with hyper popularity, beyond which I know it is probably not for me, I read the premise and thought it interesting, then when author and reviewer Margaret Renkl made the comment below, I decided to read it, rather than pre-judge and discern.

Sometimes I read a novel so completely absorbing, so populated by unforgettable characters in a world so beautifully built that entering it feels like coming home, and I can’t let myself start a new novel for a week, out of fear of breaking the spell.

If you love deceptively simple stories about deceptively ordinary human beings, about how family traumas and cultural prejudices can reverberate through the generations and how family secrets acquire ever more devastating power as the years unfold, please read this book. Especially if you believe in forgiveness and healing, and especially when forgiveness and healing are hard earned. I loved this book more than I can say. I absolutely loved it. Margaret Renkl

An Enticing Opening Scene

Buckeye is a novel set in Bonhomie, Ohio and opens with an enticing scene that gets the reader wondering who that was and what just happened. The narrative then shifts back to the early years of both those characters involved in that opening scene and we read about their lives leading up to that moment.

The two characters we meet in the opening scene are Margaret Salt, who grew up in an orphanage in Doyle, Ohio, having been dropped at its door in the middle of the night in October 1918.

The baby was eight, maybe nine months old, Lydia guessed. Pinned to her tiny shirt was a handwritten note. Please take care of this baby as I cannot. I named her Margaret, but call her what you like.

A ‘Buck’ Eye on Women

I guess this was probably one of the first red flags for me. I mean, leaving a baby outside an orphanage at that age indicated the mother had tried to take care of her child, but to flippantly write ‘call her what you like’ is an aggressive stance, inferring a lack of love or care, the first instance of portrayal of a mother as lacking.

Like other girls in the orphanage, Margaret would go in and out of families who wanted to adopt, then changed their minds, until finally in 1936, when she reached eighteen years, she moved to the city of Columbus, where her real adult education began.

Eve Entices Adam With the Forbidden Fruit

Photo by Berna on Pexels.com

And that opening scene? Well there we meet Margaret in 1945 as news of the allied victory in Europe is spreading through the community. Margaret walks into a hardware store in Bonhomie, where she now lived and asked the man behind the counter, Cal Jenkins if he had a radio. She needs him to turn it on and they will listen together. Their encounter represents a turning point in both their lives, but then the narrative switches back to tell their backstories up until that moment and ultimately beyond it.

But she was looking at the caramel-coloured radio. Her eyes were glistening. “Do you think- ” she said, then paused as if unsure of what she wanted to ask him. She took a breath. “Do you think people will start coming home?”

Cal is married to his high school girlfriend Becky, who from a young age has the ability to hear voices of the dead and as an adult has a line of people coming to her door wanting to hear these messages. After a few dates with Cal, she presented him with a letter to herself that she had written when she was eight years old, asking him to return it when she turned sixty. She wanted to know if the future was knowable by forgetting what was in the letter and encountering it later on.

“Will our older selves be anything like our younger selves thought we would be? We can only find out by writing it down and then putting it out of our minds and letting life take its course. The unraveling of time should be mysterious, don’t you think?”

Margaret has a rough start in Colombus, until she meets Felix, who seems perfect in every way, except that something is not quite right, which the reader quickly becomes aware of, though not Margaret.

Les Bons Hommes of Bonhomie

Photo by Lies on Pexels.com

The novel follows the lives of these couples in the suburban town of Bonhomie against the background of significant change in America, and the ripple effect of that encounter on the lives of these two couples, who are forced to confront what they might wish to stay hidden.

The suburban neighbourhood and 1940’s setting gave me a bit of the Revolutionary Road vibe, (Frank and April Wheeler, self-assured Connecticut suburbanites) that feeling of mild discontent that is ignored in order to keep up appearances, or grudges held when two people are unable to communicate and resolve their differences, that are likely to push them to cross lines of self-sabotage that force the issue.

Unpopular Opinion

I really enjoyed the first half of the novel, it is engaging and moves at a good pace, however towards the end, I started to notice certain patterns and once I saw them I couldn’t unsee them, in particular that all the nurturing characters were men, that the female characters either take a back seat, or are completely absent. When one character checks in on another or thinks to bring groceries, it is nearly always the men. For sure, this can be true, however this very domestic fiction in many ways felt inauthentic. A buck eye on les bons hommes?

I could feel myself bristling at the way the adult characters mismanaged the identity revelation, unable to understand the inevitable impact, there was not any addressing the unconscious impact of this throughout the character’s childhood. Again, that was probably the case, but adults ignoring the human rights of a child to know who they are, abusing their power and delaying the inevitable. Wondering about that reaction, not seeing their own violent part in it? It’s downright cruel.

The lack of reconciliation or exploration of Margaret’s story irked as well. Ultimately, this felt like a story of men being adequate family carers, perhaps we lack those kind of stories, but this just didn’t sit right with me.

Part of what had appealed to her about Columbus, when she was eighteen, was its vastness – all there was to see and do, and the chance to be a part of it. What appealed now was its vast anonymity, its ability to cloak people in its destiny, so that you could live your life without answering too many questions or encountering too many expectations. Right up to your last moments, if you wanted, so that the most lasting impression you left on your neighbours was that they’d known nothing about you.

But don’t take my word for it, unless you’re sensitive to to the same issues as I am, you might love this as many other (the majority) readers have.

Next up, another popular work, but one that has been a word of mouth sensation, a manuscript that was rejected over 100 times, because who wants to read a novel of letters? Well, me and a few friends and correspondents for starters!

A Roundup of Book Award Winners 2025

It’s nearing the end of the year and some of the book awards I have been following have made their announcements, while others like the Dublin Literary Award 2026 are sharing their nominations for next year.

Booker Prize Winner 2025

From the Booker shortlist of six novels, the prize went to Flesh by Hungarian-British writer David Szalay, a novel that follows a man from adolescence to old age as he is unravelled by a series of events beyond his grasp. It asks profound questions about what drives a life, what makes it worth living, and what breaks it.

The judges chose it for its singularity and said:

‘At the end of the novel, we don’t know what the protagonist, István, looks like but this never feels like a lack; quite the opposite. Somehow, it’s the absence of words – or the absence of István’s words – that allow us to know István. Early in the book, we know that he cries because the person he’s with tells him not to; later in life, we know he’s balding because he envies another man’s hair; we know he grieves because, for several pages, there are no words at all.    

‘I don’t think I’ve read a novel that uses the white space on the page so well. It’s as if the author, David Szalay, is inviting the reader to fill the space, to observe – almost to create – the character with him. The writing is spare and that is its great strength. Every word matters; the spaces between the words matter. The book is about living, and the strangeness of living and, as we read, as we turn the pages, we’re glad we’re alive and reading – experiencing – this extraordinary, singular novel.’ 

And this from Keiran Goddard at the Guardian:

‘There will be a temptation to pigeonhole Flesh as a novel about masculinity; its silences and its contortions, its frustrations and its codes. But while that is clearly a central concern, Szalay is also grappling with broader, knottier, more metaphysical issues. Because, at its heart, Flesh is about more than just the things that go unsaid: it is also about what is fundamentally unsayable, the ineffable things that sit at the centre of every life, hovering beyond the reach of language.’

I haven’t read ‘Flesh‘ and I’m on the fence about it based on reviews I’ve read, the lack of interiority, the focus on toxic masculinity and comments on the base dialogue. I still remember the first time I heard about it on the Irish Women’s Summer Reading podcast live at Kildare Village, but I am yet to be convinced I would enjoy it and I am not curious enough to consider it for its “singularity“.

Warwick Prize for Women in Translation Winner 2025

From their shortlist of six novels by women in translation that included works from French, Hungarian, Korean, Romanian and Swedish, the Warwick Prize this year went to :

And the Walls Became the World All Around by Johanna Ekström & Sigrid Rausing,

translated from Swedish by Sigrid Rausing

published by Granta.

This book is a memoir created from 13 handwritten notebooks that Johanna Ekström (1970-2022) asked her friend Sigrid Rausing to finish.

First published in Swedish in 2023, it has been described as a literary experiment, a continuation of 30 years of friendship, and a deep meditation on grief.

“Just as the end of life will take us into unknown territory, so this extraordinary book pioneers new ways of thinking, feeling and writing about losses of many kinds.

Sigrid Rausing’s completion of, and commentary on, her friend Johanna Ekström’s final notebooks is not just a poignant and powerful double memoir: it is a record of a distinguished writer’s last years and the friendship she inspired.

Its language, beautifully chosen and artfully translated, helps us confront and understand grief and absence. But it also permits us to celebrate a unique inner life of dreams and visions that now survives in memories, and words.”

Warwick Prize for Women in Translation Highly Commended

The judges also highly commended:

Too Great A Sky, by Liliana Corobca,

translated from Romanian by Monica Cure

published by Seven Stories Press UK:

“This prose epic not only tells an astonishing, but largely forgotten, story of suffering and endurance amid the terrors of total war; Liliana Corobca also turns her historical research into the experience of Romanians deported by Soviet authorities from Bucovina to Kazakhstan into captivating fiction.

In Monica Cure’s immersive translation, the narrator’s voice seasons horror and upheaval with humour, resilience and folkloric charm as she recounts the ordeal of the deportees and the ways they survived it. This mighty, moving novel transforms fact into art, and brings ancient storytelling skills to bear on modern tragedies.”

Both these sound excellent and I’m definitely keen to read them, so watch this space for future reviews once I manage to get hold of copies. Ask your library to get these in, if they have a copy already, I’d love to hear what you think of them if you’re also interested to read them.

An Post Irish Book Awards 2025

I didn’t create a post this year for the Irish Book Awards but I like to read Irish literature, so I keep an eye on it, in particular fiction and memoir/biography.

Exclusively Irish, inclusive in every other sense, the An Post Irish Book Awards brings together the entire literary community – readers, authors, booksellers, publishers and librarians to celebrate Irish writing.

A reminder of the shortlist for fiction, from which I have reviewed two. You can read the shortlists of the other prizes here.

Eason Novel of the Year shortlist 2025

  • Conversation with the Sea by Hugo Hamilton (Hachette Books Ireland)
  • Fun and Games by John Patrick McHugh (Fourth Estate, HarperCollins)
  • Let Me Go Mad in My Own Way by Elaine Feeney (Harvill, Penguin)
  • Nesting by Roisín O’Donnell (Scribner Bools from Simon & Schuster)
  • The Benefactors by Wendy Erksine (Sceptre)
  • The Boy from the Sea by Garrett Carr (Picador, Pan MacMillan)
  • The Ghosts of Rome by Joseph O’Connor (Harvill, Penguin)
  • Venetian Vespers by John Banville (Faber)

Eason Novel of the Year Winner 2025

Nesting by Rosisin O'Donnell longlisted for Womens Prize fiction 2025 Reading Ireland Month

The winner of the novel of the year went to:

Nesting by Roisín O’Donnell

a story of one woman’s escape from a coercive relationship and the challenges faced to stay away, while trying against the odds to build a new life.

Two of the shortlisted authors also won elsewhere.

Joseph O’Connor’s The Ghosts of Rome won the people’s choice, The Last Word Listener’s Choice Award and Elaine Feeney took home The Library Association of Ireland Author of the Year Award.

The popular fiction award went to Celia Ahearn’s Paper Heart, and The Book Centre Crime Fiction award went to It Should Have Been You by Andrea Mara.

Non-Fiction Awards

The Dubray Biography of the Year went to A Time for Truth: My Father Jason and My Search for Justice and Healing by Sarah Corbett Lynch and the nonfiction award went to Deadly Silence: A Sister’s Battle to Uncover the Truth Behind the Murder of Clodagh and Her Sons by Alan Hawe by Jacqueline Connolly & Kathryn Rogers.

Lots to consider here for next year’s Reading Irish Month in March 2026.

Have you read any of the above prize winners?

Booker Prize Shortlist 2025

The winner of the Booker Prize 2005 will be announced on Monday November 10. I only read one novel from the longlist, Love Forms by Trinidad and Tobagan author Claire Adam (my review here). Initially, I perceived on the list as being too clever with the form, even if that is a characteristic of literary fiction, but then I saw two novels that fit my own preference, written by women, about lesser known cultures.

Below is a reminder of the six books on the shortlist being considered for the prize with a quote from the author and another from the judges answering different questions about each novel. You can read more interesting facts about the shortlisted authors here.

In the coming days I’ll share my thoughts on the two that I am reading, Flashlight by Susan Choi (my review here) and The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai (my review here).

The Booker Shortlist 2025

Penned in English, these shortlisted books are worldly in settings and universal in their themes, often featuring characters living outside their familiar communities and cultures, navigating a diverse set of eye-opening challenges, exposing aspects of history and geopolitical issues from Hungary to Japan, from Venice to New York, from India to England’s West Country.  

If you click on the title of the book, you can read an extract from the novel:

The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai (India)

‘I wanted to write a present-day romance with an old-fashioned beauty’

The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny is the epic tale of two young people navigating the many forces that shape their lives: country, class, race, history, and the complicated bonds that link one generation to the next. A love story, a family saga, and a rich novel of ideas, it is said to be the most ambitious and accomplished work yet by one of our greatest novelists. 

What do you think it is about this book that readers will not only admire, but really love?  

Its rich intricacies and the sheer bounty each page offers. Inter-generational family saga, sharp humour, poignant love story, state-of-the-nation novel, this book has it all. As a result, reading The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny is an immersive, wonderful experience. 

Flashlight by Susan Choi (US)

‘Reading a great book feels like being dropped onto an alien planet’

Flashlight by Susan Choi set in Japan USA and North Korea

Flashlight moves between the post-war Korean immigrant community in Japan, to suburban America, to two children trying to forge their own identities, and an eye-opening venture into the fate of those returned to North Korea, an astonishing story of one family swept up in the tides of 20th-century history. 

What do you think it is about this book that readers will not only admire, but really love?  

The scale of it, and the life-spanning trajectories of these characters of whom we get such intimate knowledge: all their drama and pain and, very occasionally, their joy. We found Flashlight to be one of those books that completely dominates your thoughts while you’re reading it. 

Audition by Katie Kitamura (US)

‘As a culture, we’re becoming quite bad at holding a contradiction in our heads’

– An exhilarating, destabilising novel that asks whether we ever really know the people we love. In this compulsively readable, brilliantly constructed novel, two competing narratives unspool, rewriting our understanding of the roles we play every day – partner, parent, creator, muse – and the truths every performance masks, especially from those who think they know us most intimately.

Is there something unique about this book, something that you haven’t encountered in fiction before?  

Yes, the way Kitamura transitions between supposed reality – modern-day Manhattan – and something deeper and stranger, is bracing. She doesn’t hand-hold or explain, which some might see as a kind of hostility towards the reader. We saw it as a marker of trust. 

This is a very controlled performance of a book that intentionally leaves a lot open to interpretation. We think readers will love finding others who’ve read it and talking to them about what it all might mean.  

The Rest of Our Lives by Ben Markovits (US)

‘I wanted to write about a certain period of family life coming to an end’

The Rest of Our Lives by Ben Markovits

– An unforgettable road trip of a novel about a middle-aged academic whose marriage, career and body are failing him. Pitch perfect, quietly exhilarating and moving, The Rest of Our Lives is a novel about family, marriage and those moments which may come to define us.

What do you think it is about this book that readers will not only admire, but really love? 

Tom is not a literary king – he’s a dad and basketball enthusiast. We think readers will admire and enjoy high-concept analysis recounted by a ridiculously relatable narrator. 

The star of this novel is Tom’s voice: the lodestar and the ‘why now’. He is a democratic guide, he’s delightfully embarrassed, and he is as observant as he is negligent. But what’s most impressive is Markovits’ dedication to Tom as an averagely flawed human. Tom makes bad jokes, he’s a pushover, and it’s difficult to imagine being taken with him in person. 

The Land in Winter by Andrew Miller (UK)

‘I’ll write anywhere, with anything, on anything’

The Land in Winter Andrew Miller Booker Prize 2025

– A masterful, page-turning examination of the minutiae of life and a dazzling chronicle of the human heart. As the ordinary cold of an English December gives way to violent blizzards, two couples find their lives beginning to unravel.  
  
Where do you hide when you can’t leave home? And where, in a frozen world, can you run to? 

Although it’s a work of fiction, is there anything about it that’s especially relevant to issues we’re confronting in today’s world?  

The novel is set during the harsh winter of 1962-63 and, given what’s been happening to the weather since then, a harsh winter would be reassuring. But the novel is about the tensions within marriage and other relationships and those tensions are the same today as they were back then. How to live: that’s the big human issue and it forms the spine of the book. 

Flesh by David Szalay (Hungary-UK)

‘I wanted to write about what it’s like to be a living body in the world’

Flesh by David Szalay Booker Prize 2025

– A propulsive, hypnotic novel about a man who is unravelled by a series of events beyond his grasp. Fifteen-year-old István lives with his mother in a quiet apartment complex in Hungary. As the years pass, he is carried gradually upwards on the 21st century’s tides of money and power, moving from the army to the company of London’s super-rich, with his own competing impulses for love, intimacy, status and wealth winning him unimaginable riches, until they threaten to undo him completely.

What do you think it is about this book that readers will not only admire, but really love? 

Flesh is a disquisition on the art of being alive, and all the affliction that comes along with it, but it is also an absolute page-turner. It’s nearly impossible to put down. The emotional detachment of the main character, István, is sustained by the tremendous movement of the plot. The pace of this novel speaks to one of the greater themes; the detachment of our bodies from our decisions. 

* * * * * *

Have you read any of these novels from the shortlist? Do you have a favourite to win?

Women in Translation month #WITMonth

Every novel I’ve read in translation this month has been exceptional. I do love August for seeing what others are reading in this category to ensure I have a future supply of excellent reads originating from elsewhere, coming from other languages.

Here’s what I hope to read this month and I’d love to hear your favourites, what you’ve read and loved or are looking forward to during WIT Month or any time!

Translation Opens World Views

Covers of books ftom the shelf of novels by women in translation

I find it such an immense privilege to have the opportunity to read a novel that was originally conceived and written in another language, that can naturally dive into perspectives from other cultures that might be completely different or universally connected.

I loved norms being challenged and insights shared, new words, cultural references, all those opportunities to expand one’s awareness.

So I gathered what I had on my shelf to read for August to share here and I am very grateful to Daniela at Europa Editions UK who sent me three excellent new publications published by Europa in 2025, which arrived just as the month started, two of which I have devoured already.

Read Around the World

The books I have chosen are by women from Mexico (translated from Spanish), Rome and Abruzzo in Italy, Barcelona (Catalan), France (French), Iran (living as a political refugee in Australia, translated from Farsi), Russia living in Berlin (translated from German) and Debrecen, Hungary.

Mexico

I started the month with Guadalupe Nettel’s (Mexico) excellent autobiographical novel The Body Where I Was Born (reviewed here) translated by J.T. Lichtenstein, a book that reads like a memoir of childhood and adolescence, but from the perspective of looking at how those various experiences she had, might have moulded her character.

The real surprise was when she and her brother join her mother to come and live here in Aix en Provence while she’s working towards a PhD. Very insightful and for me, utterly riveting. You can also read Still Born (reviewed here) shortlisted in 2023 for the International Booker, hers is a voice and style I adore.

Italy

I’ve definitely been in a phase of reading Italian women writers from the 30’s and 40’s, so of course there is more Natalia Ginzburg and Alba de Céspedes in my pile for this month.

I’ve already finished There’s No Turning Back (reviewed here) translated by Ann Goldstein, a novel of eight women entering adulthood and potential independence in the face of a society that wants women to stay traditional, and I’m looking forward to Ginzburg’s novel All Our Yesterdays about a pregnant 16 year old who marries an older family friend to save her reputation.

I recently read an excellent article about Italy’s feminist history and literature by Margarita Diaz, who after reading Elena Ferrante’s essay collection In the Margins, sought out a women’s bookstore collective, the Libreria delle Donne di Milano, whose work had been a source of inspiration for her Neapolitan novels. The bookstore occupies a unique place in the history of the Italian women’s movement, having established “an alternative genealogy of culture,” a perspective quite different to that of English speaking cultural feminism. I would love to visit this bookshop.

The Libreria delle Donne di Milano (The Milan Women’s Bookstore), on Via Pietro Calvi in the Zona Risorgimento, houses more than 7,500 carefully curated works, mostly in Italian, by 3,700 female writers from all around the world. Works by icons of Italian literature like Sibilla Aleramo, Grazia DeLedda, and Elena Ferrante sit next to translated copies of works by anglophone writers like Virginia Woolf and Jane Austen. It is a refreshing, unapologetic, women-only space, where female voices are celebrated and encouraged. 

My third Italian read, more contemporary, with a flashback to events of the 90’s is the Strega Prize 2024 winning novel The Brittle Age by Donatella Di Pietrantonio (reviewed here), also translated by Ann Goldstein.

Her novels are excellent. A Girl Returned was exceptional, and I was riveted reading this latest. Historical true crime inspired and a psychological exploration of the effect of traumatic events on the individual and community and the small actions that help heal – just brilliant.

Doesn’t that mountain look like our local Mount Saint Victoire, with the cross at the summit?

France

It being a busy and hot working summer, I was also looking for lighter reads that would be captivating and so I chose Virginie Grimaldi’s second novel All That Remains (my review here) translated by Hildegarde Serle, a story of three people whose paths cross when each is at a significant turning point. Jeanne (74) is widowed and is overwhelmed, Iris (33) has made a near-escape and is in hiding, and Théo (18) working in a boulangerie (bakery) is starting out having left a boy’s home.

I was particularly interested in this after having seen French a news item about inter generational living arrangements, where young people move in with the elderly, enabling them to stay in their own homes. This was a page turner, totally feel good, brilliant and uplifting, a perfect all year round read!

Catalan, Spain

In February, visiting Barcelona, I found my way to the BackStory Bookshop where I discovered works in Catalan translated into English. The Song of Youth (reviewed here) by Montserrat Roig (1946-1991) translated by Tiago Miller is a collection of eight stories, which I have already started and I am pencil scribbling all over, they are so, so good.

Looking back at that lower bookshelf in the bookstore, from where I obtained this volume, I wish I had bought Time of the Cherries as well, one I’ve seen reviewed by Jacqui and more recently, Goodbye, Ramona. The latter, wasn’t in the store, but I have recently found and ordered a copy. Those Fum de Stampa Press editions are gorgeous but not easy to find!

Iran

Delighted to see a new bold chunkster translated from Farsi by Shokoofeh Azar, The Gowkaran Tree in the Middle of Our Kitchen (reviewed here). This one, spanning fifty years in the history of modern Iran, is described as a lush, layered story embracing politics and family, revolution and reconstruction, loss and love amid the colourful stories of twelve children, each told against the backdrop of cultural and political change.

Having loved her earlier novel, The Enlightenment of the Greengage Tree shortlisted for the International Booker (2020) and The Stella Prize, I’m saving this 500 page epic for holiday week at the end of August.

Russia

The Hottest Dishes of the Tartar Cuisine was the second novel written by Alina Bronsky, a German novelist born in the Ural mountain area of Russia, a dark, funny novel that stars Rosalinda, the irrepressible tyrant babushka who’ll stop at nothing to keep her family from emigrating without her as the Soviet Union falls apart. She’s brutal and cunning but also induces sympathy and amusement. This has been on my shelf too long and reading this NYT interview has pushed me to want to read it.

“Sometimes I do readings and people can’t stop laughing, but I’m reading about pretty tragic things,” Bronsky says. “I think Soviet humor is a desperate humor, rather typical of very different nations, of Jewish people, Ukrainians, and of course Russians. It’s despair — just keep laughing, until you are dead.”

Hungary

Lastly another that’s been waiting a while to be picked up is Magda Szabo’s Iza’s Ballad translated by George Szirtes, about a woman whose daughter insists she leaves her countryside home after her husband’s death to move to the city of Budapest. Uprooted from her community she must make a place and a life for herself anew.

I read her novel The Door some years ago and enjoyed it, so I’m looking forward to visiting Budapest and the countryside she left for it.

Recommendations

That’s my pile of potential reads for August, let us know in the comments below if you have read any of these or what you are looking forward to.

Booker Prize Longlist 2025

The 2025 Booker Prize longlist was announced last week, 13 novels were chosen from 153 submitted, celebrating long-form literary fiction by writers of any nationality written in English, published in the UK and/or Ireland between 1 October 2024 and 30 September 2025.

There are two debut novelists among the nine authors appearing on the list for the first time. Indian author Kiran Desai is listed, having won the prize 19 years ago with The Inheritance of Loss and Malaysian author Tash Aw is listed for the third time.

13 Novels, A Booker Dozen

The longlisted titles are:

  • Love Forms by Claire Adam (Trinidad)
  • The South by Tash Aw (Taiwan/Malaysia)
  • Universality by Natasha Brown (UK)
  • One Boat by Jonathan Buckley (UK)
  • The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai  (India/US)
  • Audition by Katie Kitamura (US)
  • The Rest of Our Lives by Benjamin Markovits  (US/UK)
  • The Land in Winter by Andrew Miller (UK)
  • Endling by Maria Reva (Ukraine/Canada)
  • Flesh by David Szalay (Canada/Austria)
  • Seascraper by Benjamin Wood (UK)
  • Misinterpretation by Ledia Xhoga (Albania/US)
  • Flashlight by Susan Chow (US)

It’s an interesting and very British list compared to other years, and a lot more experimental in style than straight forward traditional storytelling, though that’s to be expected from a literary prize. Coming in August, for me it competes with my wishing to read women in translation for #WITMonth.

Irish Recommendations & Cross Cultural Leanings

After a quick glimpse at the titles the first one that stood out for me was Love Forms by Trinidadian author Claire Adam as I first heard it discussed on The Irish Times Women’s Podcast Summer Reading Recommendations episode and was very tempted. One of my favourite podcasts, their bookclub is fabulous, all the more so, for the host Róisín Ingle’s mother Ann Ingle being part of it (she talks about and recommends Flesh by David Szalay another longlisted title), and adds an interesting mother-daughter dynamic and inter-generational exchange and perspective to the club – and she can’t see, so all her reading is via audio book.

I’m also interested in The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai because it’s a cross cultural story, although I’m not in a rush to read a 600 page novel at present. And Endling sounds interesting, comparisons being made to Percival Everett and George Saunders are both intriguing and promising.

What It’s About & the Judges’ Comment

Below is a summary book description and judges’ comment:

Love Forms by Claire Adam (Trinidad) (My Review Here)

A heart-aching novel of a mother’s search for the daughter she left behind a lifetime ago.

Trinidad, 1980: Dawn Bishop, 16, leaves home and journeys across the sea to Venezuela. She gives birth to a baby girl and leaves her with nuns to be given up for adoption. Dawn tries to carry on with her life; a move to England, marriage, career, two sons, a divorce – but through it all, she still thinks of the child she left, of what might have been.  

40 years later, a woman from an internet forum gets in touch saying she might be Dawn’s daughter, stirring up a mix of feelings: could this be the person to give form to the love and care Dawn has left to offer? 

‘Claire Adam returns to Trinidad for her sophomore novel. We first meet Dawn, a pregnant 16 year-old, on a clandestine journey across the sea to Venezuela. There, she gives birth and returns home without the baby, just as her parents had prescribed. Now, at 58, Dawn is the divorced mother of two adult men, but the loss of the baby girl consumes her every move. The story, heartbreaking in its own right, comes second to its narration. Dawn’s voice haunts us still, with its beautiful and quiet urgency. Love Forms is a rare and low-pitched achievement. It reads like a hushed conversation overheard in the next room.’ 

The South by Tash Aw  (Taiwan/Malaysia)

A radiant novel about family, desire and what we inherit, and the longing that blooms between two boys over the course of one summer.

When his grandfather dies, Jay travels south with his family to the property he left them, a once flourishing farm fallen into disrepair. The trees are diseased, the fields parched from months of drought. Still, Jay’s father Jack, sends him out to work the land. Over the course of hot, dense days, Jay finds himself drawn to Chuan, son of the farm’s manager, different from him in every way except for one. 

Out in the fields, and on the streets into town, the charge between the boys intensifies. At home, other family members confront their regrets, and begin to drift apart. Like the land around them, they are powerless to resist the global forces that threaten to render their lives obsolete. 

Sweeping and intimate, The South is a story of what happens when private and public lives collide. It is the first in a quartet of novels that form Tash Aw’s portrait of a family navigating a period of change.

‘It’s summertime in the 1990s and rural Malaysia is hot. Teenager Jay and his family leave their home of Kuala Lumpur to work on a farm in the Johor Bahru countryside. There, Jay meets Chuan, who opens Jay up to friendship, illicit pastimes, and a deeper understanding of his sexuality. To call The South a coming-of-age novel nearly misses its expanse. This is a story about heritage, the Asian financial crisis, and the relationship between one family and the land. The South is the first instalment of a quartet, and we’re so pleased that there is more to come.’ 

The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai (India/US)

A spellbinding story of two people whose fates intersect and diverge across continents and years – an epic of love & family, India & America, tradition & modernity

When Sonia and Sunny first glimpse each other on an overnight train, they ar captivated, and embarrassed their grandparents had once tried to matchmake them, a clumsy meddling that served to drive Sonia and Sunny apart.  
  
Sonia, an aspiring novelist who completed her studies in the snowy mountains of Vermont, has returned to India, haunted by a dark spell cast by an artist she once turned to. Sunny, a struggling journalist resettled in New York City, attempts to flee his imperious mother and the violence of his warring clan. Uncertain of their future, Sonia and Sunny embark on a search for happiness as they confront the alienations of our modern world.  
  
The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny is the tale of two people navigating the forces that shape their lives: country, class, race, history, and the bonds that link one generation to the next. A love story, a family saga, and a rich novel of ideas, it is an ambitious and accomplished work by one of our greatest novelists.

‘This novel about Indians in America becomes one about westernised Indians rediscovering their country, and in some ways a novel about the Indian novel’s place in the world. Vast and immersive, the book enfolds a magical realist fable within a social novel within a love story. We loved the way in which no detail, large or small, seems to escape Desai’s attention, every character (in a huge cast) feels fully realised, and the writing moves with consummate fluency between an array of modes: philosophical, comic, earnest, emotional, and uncanny.’

Flashlight Written by Susan Choi (US)

A thrilling, globe-spanning novel that mines questions of memory, language, identity and family

One evening, 10-year-old Louisa and her father take a walk out on the breakwater. They are spending the summer in a coastal Japanese town while her father Serk, a Korean émigré, completes an academic secondment from his American university. When Louisa wakes hours later, she has washed up on the beach and her father is missing, probably drowned. 

The disappearance of Louisa’s father shatters their small family. As Louisa and her American mother return home, this traumatic event reverberates across time and space, as the mystery of what happened unravels. 

Flashlight moves between the post-war Korean immigrant community in Japan, to suburban America, and the North Korean regime, to tell the astonishing story of a family swept up in the tides of 20th-century history. 

Flashlight is a sprawling novel that weaves stories of national upheavals with those of Louisa, her Korean Japanese father, Serk, and Anne, her American mother. Evolving from the uncertainties surrounding Serk’s disappearance, it is a riveting exploration of identity, hidden truths, race, and national belonging. In this ambitious book that deftly criss-crosses continents and decades, Susan Choi balances historical tensions and intimate dramas with remarkable elegance. We admired the shifts and layers of Flashlight’s narrative, which ultimately reveal a story that is intricate, surprising, and profound.’

Audition by Katie Kitamura (US)

An exhilarating, destabilising novel that asks whether we ever really know the people we love

Two people meet for lunch in a Manhattan restaurant. She’s an accomplished actress in rehearsals. He’s attractive, troubling, young – young enough to be her son. Who is he to her, and who is she to him? 

In this compulsive, brilliantly constructed novel, two competing narratives unspool, rewriting our understanding of the roles we play every day – partner, parent, creator, muse – and the truths every performance masks, especially from those who think they know us most intimately.

‘This novel begins with an actress meeting a young man in a Manhattan restaurant. A surprising, unsettling conversation unfolds, but far more radical disturbances are to come. Aside from the extraordinarily honed quality of its sentences, the remarkable thing about Audition is the way it persists in the mind after reading, like a knot that feels tantalisingly close to coming free. Denying us the resolution we instinctively crave from stories, Kitamura takes Chekhov’s dictum – that the job of the writer is to ask questions, not answer them – and runs with it, presenting a puzzle, the solution to which is undoubtedly obscure, and might not even exist at all.’

Universality by Natasha Brown (UK)

A twisty, slippery descent into the rhetoric of truth and power

‘Remember – words are your weapons, they’re your tools, your currency.’ 

Late one night on a Yorkshire farm, a man is bludgeoned with a solid gold bar. A plucky young journalist sets out to uncover the truth, connecting the dots between an amoral banker landlord, an iconoclastic columnist, and a radical anarchist movement. She solves the mystery, but her exposé raises more questions than it answers. 

Through a voyeuristic lens, Universality focuses on words: what we say, how we say it, and what we really mean. The follow-up novel to Natasha Brown’s Assembly is a compellingly nasty celebration of the spectacular force of language. It dares you to look away.  

‘Natasha Brown’s Universality is a compact yet sweeping satire. Told through a series of shifting perspectives, it reveals the contradictions of a society shaped by entrenched systems of economic, political, and media control. Brown moves the reader with cool precision from Hannah, a struggling freelancer, through to Lenny, an established columnist, unfurling through both of them an examination of the ways language and rhetoric are bound with power structures. We were particularly impressed by the book’s ability to discomfit and entertain, qualities that mark Universality as a bold and memorable achievement.’ 

Endling by Maria Reva (Ukraine/Canada)

An unforgettable debut novel about the journey of three women and one extremely endangered snail through contemporary Ukraine

Ukraine, 2022. Yeva is a maverick scientist who scours the forests and valleys, trying and failing to breed rare snails while her relatives urge her to settle down and start a family. What they don’t know: Yeva dates plenty of men – not for love, but to fund her work – entertaining Westerners who take guided romance tours believing they’ll find docile brides untainted by feminism.  
  
Nastia and her sister, Solomiya, are also entangled in the booming marriage industry, posing as a hopeful bride and her translator while secretly searching for their missing mother, who vanished after years of fierce activism against the romance tours.  So begins a journey across a country on the brink of war: three angry women, a truckful of kidnapped bachelors, and Lefty, a last-of-his-kind snail with one final shot at perpetuating his species.

‘Endling shouldn’t be funny, but it is – very. Set in Ukraine just as Putin invades, it features three young women, on two different missions, in one vehicle. Structurally wild and playful, Endling is also heart-rending and angry. It examines colonialism, old and neo, the role of women, identity, power and powerlessness, and the very nature of fiction-writing. Maria Reva also tells a riveting, unique story; the shock is that this is her first novel. It’s a book about the world now, and about three unforgettable women, Yeva, Nastia and Solomiya, travelling together in a mobile lab. The endling, by the way, is a snail.’ 

Seascraper by Benjamin Wood (UK)

A mesmerising portrait of a young man confined by his class and the ghosts of his family’s past, dreaming of artistic fulfilment

Thomas lives a slow, deliberate life with his mother in Longferry, working his grandpa’s trade as a shanker. He rises early to take his horse and cart to the grey, gloomy beach and scrape for shrimp, spending the afternoon selling his wares, trying to wash away the salt and scum, pining for Joan and rehearsing songs on his guitar. At heart, he is a folk musician, but it remains a private dream.  
  
When a striking visitor turns up, bringing the promise of Hollywood glamour, Thomas is shaken from the drudgery of his days and imagines a different future. But how much of what the American claims is true, and how far can his inspiration carry Thomas?  Haunting and timeless, a story of a young man hemmed in by circumstances, striving to achieve fulfilment far beyond the world he knows.

Seascraper seems, at first, to be a beautifully described account of the working day of a young man, Thomas Flett, who works as a shanker in a north of England coastal town, scraping the Irish Sea shore for scrimps. And it is that: the details of the job and the physicality of the labour are wonderfully captured by Benjamin Wood. But this novel becomes much more than that. It’s a book about dreams, an exploration of class and family, a celebration of the power and the glory of music, a challenge to the limits of literary realism, and – stunningly – a love story.’

One Boat by Jonathan Buckley (UK)

Artfully constructed, absorbing and insightful, One Boat grapples with questions of identity, free will, guilt and responsibility

On losing her father, Teresa returns to a small Greek coastal town – the same place she visited when grieving her mother nine years ago. She immerses herself in the life of the town, observing the inhabitants, a quiet backdrop for reckoning with herself. An episode from her first visit resurfaces – her encounter with John, a man struggling to come to terms with the violent death of his nephew.  

Teresa encounters people she met before: Petros, an eccentric mechanic, whose life story may or may not be part of John’s; the beautiful Niko, a diving instructor; and Xanthe, a waitress in one of the cafés. They talk about their longings, regrets, the passing of time, their sense of who they are.

‘Following the death of her father, Teresa returns to the small coastal town in Greece she first visited when her mother died nearly a decade before. From this scenario, tacking between the events of the second trip and memories of the first, Buckley creates a novel of quiet brilliance and sly humour, packed with mystery and indeterminacy. The way in which the book interleaves Teresa’s relationship to her mother, her involvement in an amateur murder investigation, and an account of a love affair, raises questions about grief, obsession, personhood and human connectivity we found to be as stimulating as they are complex.’

Flesh by David Szalay (Canada/Austria)

A propulsive, hypnotic novel about a man who is unravelled by a series of events beyond his grasp

Fifteen-year-old István lives with his mother in an apartment complex in Hungary. New to the town and shy, he is unfamiliar with social rituals at school and becomes isolated, with his neighbour – a woman close to his mother’s age – his only companion. Their encounters shift into a clandestine relationship that István barely understands, as his life spirals out of control.  
   
As the years pass, he is carried upwards on the century’s tides of money and power, moving from the army to the company of London’s super-rich, with his own competing impulses for love, intimacy, status and wealth winning him riches, until they threaten to undo him completely.  Flesh asks profound questions about what drives a life: what makes it worth living, and what breaks it.

‘David Szalay’s fifth novel follows István from his teenage years on a Hungarian housing estate to borstal, and from soldiering in Iraq to his career as personal security for London’s super-rich. In many ways István is stereotypically masculine – physical, impulsive, barely on speaking terms with his own feelings (and for much of the novel barely speaking: he must rank among the more reticent characters in literature). But somehow, using only the sparest of prose, this hypnotically tense and compelling book becomes an astonishingly moving portrait of a man’s life.’

The Land in Winter by Andrew Miller (UK)

A masterful, page-turning examination of the minutiae of life and a dazzling chronicle of the human heart

December 1962, the West Country.  Local doctor Eric Parry, mulling secrets, sets out on his rounds, while his pregnant wife sleeps on in their cottage. Across the field, funny, troubled Rita is also asleep, her head full of images of a past her husband prefers to ignore. He’s been up for hours, tending to the needs of the small dairy farm where he hoped to create a new version of himself, a project that’s faltering.  
  
When the ordinary cold of an English December gives way to violent blizzards, the two couples find their lives unravelling.  Where do you hide when you can’t leave home? And where, in a frozen world, can you run to?  

Misinterpretation by Ledia Xhoga (Albania/UK)

Ledia Xhoga’s ruminative debut interrogates the darker legacies of family and country, and the boundary between compassion and self-preservation

In present-day New York City, an Albanian interpreter reluctantly agrees to work with Alfred, a Kosovar torture survivor, during his therapy sessions. Despite her husband’s cautions, she becomes entangled in her clients’ struggles: Alfred’s nightmares stir up buried memories, and an impulsive attempt to help a Kurdish poet leads to a risky encounter and a reckless plan. 

As ill-fated decisions stack up, jeopardising the narrator’s marriage and mental health, she travels to reunite with her mother in Albania, where her life in the United States is put into stark relief. When she returns to face the consequences, she must question what is real and what is not.

‘A Kosovan torture survivor requests translation assistance at his therapy sessions. Our narrator, a nameless translator, reluctantly agrees. But Alfred’s account of his experiences conjures hidden memories that seep into her psyche, forcing her to question her marriage and her place in the world. This is a story of a woman saddled between her Albanian past and her New York present. It explores the way that language is kept in our bodies, how it can reveal truths we aren’t ready to hear. Misinterpretation subtly blurs the distinction between help and harm. We found it propulsive, unsettling, and strangely human.’

The Rest of Our Lives by Ben Markovits (US/UK)

An unforgettable road trip of a novel about getting older, and the challenges of long-term marriage

What’s left when your kids grow up and leave home?  When Tom Layward’s wife had an affair, he resolved to leave her as soon as his youngest turned 18. Twelve years later, while driving her to start university, he remembers his pact.  Also he’s on the run from health issues, and the fact he’s been put on leave at work after students complained about the politics of his law class – a detail he hasn’t told his wife.  
   
After dropping Miriam off, he keeps driving, with the vague plan of visiting various people from his past – an old college friend, his ex-girlfriend, his brother, his son – on route, maybe, to his father’s grave.  Pitch perfect, quietly exhilarating, moving, The Rest of Our Lives is a novel about family, marriage and moments that may come to define us.

‘When Tom Layward’s wife cheated on him, he stayed for the children but promised to leave when his youngest turned eighteen. Twelve years later, Tom drops his daughter off at college, but instead of driving back to New York he heads west. What follows is a remarkably satisfying road trip full of strangers, friends, and self-discovery. It’s clear author Ben Markovits has spent time teaching. This novel speaks like a much-loved professor, one whose classes have a terribly long waitlist. It’s matter of fact, effortlessly warm, and it uses the smallest parts of human behaviour to uphold bigger themes, like mortality, sickness, and love. The Rest of Our Lives is a novel of sincerity and precision. We found it difficult to put it down.’ 

What Do You Think?

Are you tempted by anything on the list or have you read any of these titles? Let us know in the comments below.

If you’re not sure, Take the Quiz and see what your preferences suggest. I took the quiz and it suggested I read Flesh by David Szalay. Not sure about that! But Ann Ingle did recommend it.

Birding by Rose Ruane

Birding by Rose Ruane is longlisted for the Women’s Prize for Fiction 2025.

The novel is about two women living in a rundown, gentrifying seaside town in Britain, arriving at their moment of realisation of how their lives have been affected by damaging events of the past and their beginning to separate from and reject the power this has had over them.

One Woman’s Trauma is Another (Wo)Man’s Drama

Lydia, in her late forties is contacted by Henry “the most assiduously avoidant human she’d ever encountered”, to inform her he will put on a play that recounts a part of their history that ought to have negated their continued contact. Lydia is stunned, haunted and full of regret.

rundown gentrifying British seaside town Birding by Rose Ruane
Photo by R.Keating on Pexels.com

Joyce, of similar age, lives with her super controlling, critical mother Betty in a small house a few blocks back from the sea, after their comedown from The Palace, the departure of Joyce’s father without a word of explanation or contact since she was a child.

Beyond the beach, streets lined with terraces and bungalows crouch behind Victorian buildings with mid-century interiors; carved up into bedsits and B&Bs, their pastel facades crumble like stale cake after a party.

The impact of absent men on both women works like an invisible thread, until a mass social movement of women sharing their experiences of abuse awakens the impact and creates an increasingly conscious ripple effect in their lives.

Like Mother Like Daughter, But No

Photo by cottonbro studio Pexels.com

Joyce has never joined adulthood, her mother keeping her in a kind of stasis, until one Saturday evening when they prepare to go to the club, Betty utters that maybe they might meet a man, both of them, mother and daughter.

Joyce knows people stare because she and her mother wear identical outfits and hairstyles, attired as if they are twins.

Birding navigates a short period of time in these two women’s lives as they live with who they have become and reflect on significant aspects of the past in the 90’s that shaped them.

A lifetime’s habit of exactitude Joyce never used to question. But it has begun to feel stuffy and constricting, as if Joyce is outgrowing all her clothes.

Fake Spice Not Nice

Lydia and her friend Pandora had been a one hit pop wonder in their youth, a promising career thwarted by bad decisions made by powerful people that had little impact on the decision maker’s, but curtailed the girls’ dreams and made them targets of scorn for a while.

Lydia has always been carried by Pan’s sheer force of will; even when unsure if she’s been bullied or beloved, Lydia’s always ridden pillion on Pan’s survival instinct.

But whereas Pan has perfected the art of utter denial, Lydia has not. It never works.

Both have a desire to step outside of their patterns and in some small way the shift begins to happen, as their current minor transgressions exhibit a healthier rebellion and acknowledgement of what inside them, needs to find expression.

It’s a novel that carries a message of hope amid the lost opportunities that stunt some lives, showing the effect one has upon the other. In an interview about her multi-disciplinary creative life, Rose Ruane shared lines from a poem by Frank Bidart that reflect a truth she has learned to live by, one perhaps shared by her characters as they come into their own.

Whether you love what you love
Or live in divided ceaseless
Revolt against it
What you love is your fate

Further Reading

Women’s Prize: In Conversation With Rose Ruane

Irish Times : Birding by Rose Ruane: Friendship, friction and moments of reckoning

Article: Rose Ruane – A Creative Life Story by Leslie Tate

Birding asks if we can ever see ourselves clearly or if we are always the unreliable narrators of our own experiences. It is a story about the difference between responsibility and obligation, unhealthy relationships and abusive ones, third acts and last chances, and two women trying to take flight on clipped wings. Women’s Prize

Author, Rose Ruane

Rose Ruane is an artist and writer living and working in Glasgow. She graduated from the Glasgow School of Art in 2007 and completed a Master of Fine Art research degree and an MLitt in creative writing at the University of Glasgow. She has made podcasts and documentaries for BBC Radio 3, BBC Radio Scotland and Radiophrenia, exhibited her art at home and abroad, and was the 2015 winner of the Off West End Adopt A Playwright award.

Rose is chair of The Adamson Collection, comprised of work created in the art therapy studio at Netherne Hospital during the mid-20th century and is about to complete a PhD exploring the lives and experiences of the individuals who were compelled to live there. Rose is an avid collector of 20th Century crafts and kitsch. Birding is her second novel.