D.E. Stevenson was a Scottish author who published extensively in the mid-twentieth century. Her novels are sweetly charming, old-fashioned love stories with embedded moral messages. (See my review of Miss Buncle’s Book.)
I recently saw a review of The English Air, published in 1940, and although my library didn’t have it, they were able to get it for me through interlibrary loan.
The novel begins in 1938, just after the Austrian Anschluss. So it has the interesting perspective of being written in the early days of the war, looking back at the times leading up to it. Set in a small English port town, it is an extremely gentle dual love story, the main conflict being the differences between the English and the Germans.
Wynne Braithwaite is a lovely young British girl who has grown up innocent and carefree, spared memories of the First World War that still haunt her Aunt Sophie, who raised her. She fully expects life to be easy, full of good friends, good times, tennis, and volunteer social work. When a distant cousin, Franz von Heiden, comes for a visit from Germany, she is eager to get to know him and show him around.
Franz is half-English, though a bit ashamed of it. He’s a young Nazi, devoted to his Leader, whose father is an important man in the party. (He would be more important, but in his early days, he mistakenly fell in love with and married an English wife. That wife was Sophie’s cousin and best friend. He took her back to Germany, made her miserable, and was relieved when she died so that his career could get back on track.) Franz has grown up with much of his father’s prejudice.
He is sent to England by his father to gauge the English temperament. His father anticipates a report that they are weak-hearted, decadent, and will roll over and surrender if it comes to another war. But this is not what Franz finds. Although a fish out of water at first, Franz comes to admire the friendly, good-natured English, who harbor no enmity for the Germans, but who have backbones of steel. Franz grows healthy, strong, and happy in "the English air." And, naturally, he falls in love with Wynne.
Wynne’s aunt and step-uncle, Dale, remembering what happened to their cousin, are terrified of something similar happening to Wynne, and they essentially forbid Franz from courting Wynne. He understands their viewpoint, but doesn’t agree, until Hitler breaks his promise and marches into Prague. At that point, Franz realizes that Hitler is a problem, not a solution. Appalled, he returns to Germany to become part of the resistance.
No one knows where he has gone. Wynne grows sad, but is convinced he’s coming back. The story tracks Franz’s wartime efforts and Wynne’s devotion until he returns.
It’s a pleasant romance with strong, good people. However, it was such overt propaganda (not surprising given the times) that it detracted from the story. I can’t disagree with the Nazi- bad, English people- good, theme, naturally, but it was so preachy, without a drop of subtlety, that the story itself was weak and dated. It reads better as a period-piece, giving insight into the mind-set of people at war, than as a novel. It’s an interesting contrast to WWII novels that are written today that are much more gritty, horrifying, and yet show shades of grey.
Friday, March 30, 2018
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
BOOK REVIEW: Every Note Played by Lisa Genova
I received this book for free from Netgalley. That did not influence my review.
Lisa Genova’s new release, Every Note Played, is a gritty, realistic, and yet beautiful novel following the physical decline and emotional growth of a man dying from ALS. This is the first book I’ve read by this author, but I can understand why she is so widely read.
Richard Evans is a brilliant classical pianist, whose career comes crashing to a halt when he is diagnosed with ALS. Cruelly, the disease has attacked his hands first, robbing him not only of his life’s work, but of the very core of his identity. A year earlier, his marriage ended and this crisis has made him aware of how very alone he is.
Karina is the wife who divorced him. An exceptionally talented pianist in her own right, she has sacrificed her career to support his, devoting her time to bringing up their daughter. She teaches piano to ungifted, uninterested suburban students. Still mired in resentment– Richard cheated on her repeatedly as well as tearing her away from her promising start as a jazz pianist–Karina thought she would be reborn after the divorce, but instead is stuck. Their daughter is now in college and her ex-husband has moved out. No one is holding her back anymore and she has nowhere to place blame for her dissatisfaction.
Both believe the love they once shared is dead and buried. Responsibility for the failed marriage falls to both parties, but neither can relinquish old grudges. This is emotionally entangling enough, even without the addition of the slowly progressive, deadly disease. But the disease is what the story hinges upon.
Richard becomes increasingly physically dependent and Karina takes him home to be his support person.
The plot revolves around the progression of the disease. The novel is well-researched and graphic in its medical details. It’s heartbreaking and painful to read. Realistically, there can be no happy ending. And yet, there is healing of a sort for these broken people. The reader journeys through the process with Richard and Karina, engrossed.
Lisa Genova’s new release, Every Note Played, is a gritty, realistic, and yet beautiful novel following the physical decline and emotional growth of a man dying from ALS. This is the first book I’ve read by this author, but I can understand why she is so widely read.
Richard Evans is a brilliant classical pianist, whose career comes crashing to a halt when he is diagnosed with ALS. Cruelly, the disease has attacked his hands first, robbing him not only of his life’s work, but of the very core of his identity. A year earlier, his marriage ended and this crisis has made him aware of how very alone he is.
Karina is the wife who divorced him. An exceptionally talented pianist in her own right, she has sacrificed her career to support his, devoting her time to bringing up their daughter. She teaches piano to ungifted, uninterested suburban students. Still mired in resentment– Richard cheated on her repeatedly as well as tearing her away from her promising start as a jazz pianist–Karina thought she would be reborn after the divorce, but instead is stuck. Their daughter is now in college and her ex-husband has moved out. No one is holding her back anymore and she has nowhere to place blame for her dissatisfaction.
Both believe the love they once shared is dead and buried. Responsibility for the failed marriage falls to both parties, but neither can relinquish old grudges. This is emotionally entangling enough, even without the addition of the slowly progressive, deadly disease. But the disease is what the story hinges upon.
Richard becomes increasingly physically dependent and Karina takes him home to be his support person.
The plot revolves around the progression of the disease. The novel is well-researched and graphic in its medical details. It’s heartbreaking and painful to read. Realistically, there can be no happy ending. And yet, there is healing of a sort for these broken people. The reader journeys through the process with Richard and Karina, engrossed.
Labels:
contemporary,
literary
Sunday, March 18, 2018
BOOK REVIEW: Bump in the Night by Colin Watson
I received this book for free from Netgalley. This did not influence my review.
I loved the first book in the A Flaxborough Mystery Series: Coffin, Scarcely Used and was eager to get to book 2: Bump in the Night. This series by British author Colin Watson from the 1950s/60s is being re-released in electronic form, and I’m thrilled to have discovered them through Netgalley.
That said, I’d urge you to start with book one, because book two wouldn’t have hooked me by itself. It can be read as a stand-alone, but the charm of its protagonist would be missing.
Bump in the Night is set in a town nearby to Flaxborough, named Chalmsbury. It begins with a middle-of-the-night explosion that destroys a statue/water fountain in a local park that had been dedicated to a local luminary. A series of similar unexplained explosions follows. The shocked and entertained locals discuss the events for a few chapters before the police chief, Inspector Hector Larch, becomes involved. As an inspector, he’s clearly out of his league. His method is a rather prejudiced bullying of whatever witness he comes across in the hopes of extracting a confession. The townspeople know him too well, however, to be bullied. He is aided by a young policeman named Worple who is more intelligent and possibly more capable. But the reader’s introduction to Worple shows him as somewhat lazy and obstructionist, so it’s hard to get behind him as the investigation proceeds.
The townspeople are, as in Coffin, Scarcely Used, a collection of oddball characters/caricatures. But they are not as endearing as those of Flaxborough. The physical descriptions are still written with the dry wit of book one, but some seem more labored. The characters’ quirks are more irritating, their habits more tawdry. And Larch’s aggressive and ineffective methods give the book a meandering, aimless feeling.
Thankfully, just as I was wondering if it was worth plodding on, Inspector Purbright is called in from neighboring Flaxborough. What a relief! Continuity was restored to the series and the clever, good-souled detective shows up to move things along. Pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place. The townspeople reveal hidden depths–not all that deep, but at least they are less one-dimensional. The pace picks up and I am intrigued by the crime.
Obviously, I wasn’t as enamored of book two as I was of book one, and yet, on the whole, it was a satisfying read. Purbright remains a compelling protagonist. Hopefully, he will be more present in book 3, because I’m still a fan of the series and want to see what he does next.
I loved the first book in the A Flaxborough Mystery Series: Coffin, Scarcely Used and was eager to get to book 2: Bump in the Night. This series by British author Colin Watson from the 1950s/60s is being re-released in electronic form, and I’m thrilled to have discovered them through Netgalley.
That said, I’d urge you to start with book one, because book two wouldn’t have hooked me by itself. It can be read as a stand-alone, but the charm of its protagonist would be missing.
Bump in the Night is set in a town nearby to Flaxborough, named Chalmsbury. It begins with a middle-of-the-night explosion that destroys a statue/water fountain in a local park that had been dedicated to a local luminary. A series of similar unexplained explosions follows. The shocked and entertained locals discuss the events for a few chapters before the police chief, Inspector Hector Larch, becomes involved. As an inspector, he’s clearly out of his league. His method is a rather prejudiced bullying of whatever witness he comes across in the hopes of extracting a confession. The townspeople know him too well, however, to be bullied. He is aided by a young policeman named Worple who is more intelligent and possibly more capable. But the reader’s introduction to Worple shows him as somewhat lazy and obstructionist, so it’s hard to get behind him as the investigation proceeds.
The townspeople are, as in Coffin, Scarcely Used, a collection of oddball characters/caricatures. But they are not as endearing as those of Flaxborough. The physical descriptions are still written with the dry wit of book one, but some seem more labored. The characters’ quirks are more irritating, their habits more tawdry. And Larch’s aggressive and ineffective methods give the book a meandering, aimless feeling.
Thankfully, just as I was wondering if it was worth plodding on, Inspector Purbright is called in from neighboring Flaxborough. What a relief! Continuity was restored to the series and the clever, good-souled detective shows up to move things along. Pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place. The townspeople reveal hidden depths–not all that deep, but at least they are less one-dimensional. The pace picks up and I am intrigued by the crime.
Obviously, I wasn’t as enamored of book two as I was of book one, and yet, on the whole, it was a satisfying read. Purbright remains a compelling protagonist. Hopefully, he will be more present in book 3, because I’m still a fan of the series and want to see what he does next.
Labels:
England,
historical fiction,
mystery,
twentieth century
Monday, March 5, 2018
BOOK REVIEW: The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead
My book group picked The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead for our next meeting. I had mixed feelings about the choice. It’s award-winning historical fiction, so I’ve felt for quite a while that it should be on my TBR pile and this was a great way to nudge me to read it. On the other hand, the premise didn’t grab me. The escape from slavery along the Underground Railroad imagined as if the route was an actual train? Why?
And my reaction to the book after reading it is also mixed. It’s essentially magical realism, which may explain why I found it slow going. I’ve found books in this genre usually fail to grab me. And then there is the unrelenting, mind-numbing brutality that seemed to deaden the emotions of the characters so that they never really came alive. (Maybe that was intentional?) Although I’m sure the horrors represented in the book are based on fact, it nevertheless never seemed real.
Cora is a young, enslaved woman, who is isolated from her fellow slaves as someone who just doesn’t fit in anywhere. Her father is gone. Her mother abandoned her in order to escape the Georgia cotton plantation and run away north. Of all those who attempted escape from this particular plantation, Cora’s mother is the only one to succeed. That notoriety burdens Cora because she isn’t proud of her mother. She’s angry.
A new arrival named Caesar takes notice of her. He, too, is different, having been educated by his former owner. The elderly woman led him to believe he’d be freed at her death. She lied. When he decides to run away, he asks Cora to join him. Although hesitant at first, changes taking place on the plantation make the decision for her. Caesar has contacts with the Underground Railroad. The escape is difficult, but they make it to the first stop. And here, they learn that a true railroad exists deep underground.
Until this point, the narrative is a fairly typical fictional story of desperate slaves risking all for freedom. But once on the railroad, Cora’s experience broadens to incorporate multiple forms of brutality, exploitation, humiliation, terrorization, and loss. There are a few good people who try to help, but the majority are untrustworthy at best and threatening as a rule.
The book bounced from place to place, event to event, even person to person, to show as much of man’s evilness to man as possible. I was pulled into some of the scenes, curious how they would play out, but on the whole, the characters were too much symbolic "types" to really care about. The book ended abruptly, which didn’t bother me since I was simply glad it was done.
The book is ambitious in scope. It’s clearly written. And it succeeds in making the reader uncomfortable about the sickening underpinning of our country’s foundation and growth. It’s a worthwhile read. But not a book I’d read twice.
And my reaction to the book after reading it is also mixed. It’s essentially magical realism, which may explain why I found it slow going. I’ve found books in this genre usually fail to grab me. And then there is the unrelenting, mind-numbing brutality that seemed to deaden the emotions of the characters so that they never really came alive. (Maybe that was intentional?) Although I’m sure the horrors represented in the book are based on fact, it nevertheless never seemed real.
Cora is a young, enslaved woman, who is isolated from her fellow slaves as someone who just doesn’t fit in anywhere. Her father is gone. Her mother abandoned her in order to escape the Georgia cotton plantation and run away north. Of all those who attempted escape from this particular plantation, Cora’s mother is the only one to succeed. That notoriety burdens Cora because she isn’t proud of her mother. She’s angry.
A new arrival named Caesar takes notice of her. He, too, is different, having been educated by his former owner. The elderly woman led him to believe he’d be freed at her death. She lied. When he decides to run away, he asks Cora to join him. Although hesitant at first, changes taking place on the plantation make the decision for her. Caesar has contacts with the Underground Railroad. The escape is difficult, but they make it to the first stop. And here, they learn that a true railroad exists deep underground.
Until this point, the narrative is a fairly typical fictional story of desperate slaves risking all for freedom. But once on the railroad, Cora’s experience broadens to incorporate multiple forms of brutality, exploitation, humiliation, terrorization, and loss. There are a few good people who try to help, but the majority are untrustworthy at best and threatening as a rule.
The book bounced from place to place, event to event, even person to person, to show as much of man’s evilness to man as possible. I was pulled into some of the scenes, curious how they would play out, but on the whole, the characters were too much symbolic "types" to really care about. The book ended abruptly, which didn’t bother me since I was simply glad it was done.
The book is ambitious in scope. It’s clearly written. And it succeeds in making the reader uncomfortable about the sickening underpinning of our country’s foundation and growth. It’s a worthwhile read. But not a book I’d read twice.
Labels:
historical fiction,
literary,
nineteenth century
Thursday, March 1, 2018
BOOK REVIEW: A Brush with Shadows by Anna Lee Huber
I received this book for free from Netgalley. This did not influence my review.
I’ve been following Anna Lee Huber’s The Lady Darby Mysteries ever since book one, The Anatomist’s Wife. The books are excellent mysteries with thoughtful, kind, intelligent protagonists whose relationship development is as compelling as the detective plot. Set in the mid-1800s, primarily in England, the historical setting and bits of the politics of the day add to the enjoyment of the read.
In A Brush with Shadows, Lady Darby (Kiera Gage) and her husband Sebastian Gage have been summoned by Gage’s aged, ill grandfather to the old family manor in Dartmoor. Gage’s cousin Alfred, the heir to the estate, has gone missing.
Kiera is aware that Gage had an unfortunate childhood. His mother died when he was a young man. His father, a nasty old sea captain, was absent most of the time. They are all but estranged now, although they are both inquiry agents and the father relies heavily on the talent of the son. Although Kiera knows Gage was unhappy growing up, she doesn’t know the details. He has always been very supportive and understanding about her past traumas, but very close-mouthed about his own.
It doesn’t take long for Kiera to grasp the family dynamics. And while she is 100% behind her husband, she does have a bit more perspective and her kindness and perceptiveness allow her to see behind some of the cruel facades.
They soon discover there is more to the story of the missing cousin. Alfred is something of a wastrel and is heartily disliked by just about everyone–especially Gage. Still, he has to be found.
Once again, the author constructs an intricate plot with contradictory leads, multiple possible culprits, and multifaceted characters who may or may not be trustworthy. Kiera and Gage have to navigate new difficulties in their relationship as this time, Gage is the vulnerable one.
Readers may figure out whodunit before the climactic revelation, but the conclusion is nevertheless tension-filled and fast-paced.
This series is highly recommended.
I’ve been following Anna Lee Huber’s The Lady Darby Mysteries ever since book one, The Anatomist’s Wife. The books are excellent mysteries with thoughtful, kind, intelligent protagonists whose relationship development is as compelling as the detective plot. Set in the mid-1800s, primarily in England, the historical setting and bits of the politics of the day add to the enjoyment of the read.
In A Brush with Shadows, Lady Darby (Kiera Gage) and her husband Sebastian Gage have been summoned by Gage’s aged, ill grandfather to the old family manor in Dartmoor. Gage’s cousin Alfred, the heir to the estate, has gone missing.
Kiera is aware that Gage had an unfortunate childhood. His mother died when he was a young man. His father, a nasty old sea captain, was absent most of the time. They are all but estranged now, although they are both inquiry agents and the father relies heavily on the talent of the son. Although Kiera knows Gage was unhappy growing up, she doesn’t know the details. He has always been very supportive and understanding about her past traumas, but very close-mouthed about his own.
It doesn’t take long for Kiera to grasp the family dynamics. And while she is 100% behind her husband, she does have a bit more perspective and her kindness and perceptiveness allow her to see behind some of the cruel facades.
They soon discover there is more to the story of the missing cousin. Alfred is something of a wastrel and is heartily disliked by just about everyone–especially Gage. Still, he has to be found.
Once again, the author constructs an intricate plot with contradictory leads, multiple possible culprits, and multifaceted characters who may or may not be trustworthy. Kiera and Gage have to navigate new difficulties in their relationship as this time, Gage is the vulnerable one.
Readers may figure out whodunit before the climactic revelation, but the conclusion is nevertheless tension-filled and fast-paced.
This series is highly recommended.
Labels:
England,
historical fiction,
mystery,
nineteenth century,
Scotland
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