Category Archives: Fiction

Persephone’s “A Book a Month”


At the beginning of this year I treated myself to a 12-month subscription to Persephone Books. Two weeks later I had forgotten which books I had picked out to be delivered to my doorstep. And so, once a month I am surprised but happy to find a new Persephone in the mail.

Pictured at the front are the books I have received thus far. Have I read each of them as they came in, which is what I pictured when I bought the subscription? If you know about my current reading habits (which you do not, since I fail to write about them so spectacularly) you know the answer is a resounding no. I have read 14 books in 2015, including quite a few small picture books, where I usually would have read 30+ by now. But does it matter really? Persephones are pretty on your shelf and you know that once you pick them up, you are in for a treat.

And so, since this week I have been reading the very first book that came through the mailbox this year: Miss Buncle Married. And I was right: it is a treat. Miss Buncle is lovely as ever. This is the perfect book to pick up once Pim is in bed (and he seems to have decent bedtimes now, let us keep our fingers crossed that this sticks), after a long day of writing and more writing on my thesis.

The Sleeper and the Spindle by Neil Gaiman

Unlike many others, I did not see the promotional picture of two girls kissing for the release of The Sleeper and the Spindle. Instead, being so out of the loop with blogging and new books, I saw this title appear in the top 20 sold books on Bookdepository one day, and decided to buy it. “New Neil Gaiman and a fairy tale at that,” I thought, “I will probably like this”. Not having seen the promo, I was probably saved a lot of disappointment. Instead, I got what I expected: a fairy tale Neil Gaiman-style, with twists that I did not expect, and lovely illustrations by Chris Riddell to boot.

The Sleeper and the Spindle - Neil Gaiman // Illustrated by Chris Riddell // Bloomsbury, 2014

The Sleeper and the Spindle – Neil Gaiman // Illustrated by Chris Riddell // Bloomsbury, 2014

But sometimes, getting what you expected may not feel like enough. And I realise this sounds spoiled. And let’s be honest: it is. But for the first half of the book, it was a thought that flashed through my mind. We’ve come to expect great tales from Gaiman. And upon seeing that cover (WOW!) the idea of wonderful images might be taken for granted.

And so it took a while to realise exactly what joys The Sleeper and the Spindle provides.

Take this quote at the beginning, which plays with gender expectations and “the happily ever after” right there (before playing with it some more throughout the book):

It seemed both unlikely and extremely final. She wondered how she would feel to be a married woman. It would be the end of her life, she decided, if life was a time of choices. In a week from now, she would have no choices. She would reign over her people. She would have children. Perhaps she would die in childbirth, perhaps she would die as an old woman, or in battle. But the path to her death, heartbeat by heartbeat, would be inevitable.

And then there’s the moment when realisation first hit (and yes, I am sloooow), that this were fairytales intertwined, with a lead that is Snow White an her dwarfs, mixed up in the tale of Sleeping Beauty. And I started to love the book a little more.

As we near the end I first realise that here’s a wonderful girl protagonist, who is allowed the possibility of a death in battle (see the quote above), and moreover, to make her own choices (there’s quite some gender role reversal when she tells the prince she will leave on a mission), and take such a large part in the action.

And then there is the very end. With a twist on traditional fairy tale expectations about beauty and age that I loooooved. And by then I cannot help but conclude that yes, I was spoiled to even think that getting what one expects of an author may not be enough.

I ended up really enjoying The Sleeper and the Spindle. But I do understand some of the disappointment out there. For this is not a LGTB take on a fairytale. The kiss itself is beautifully pictured but of very little importance in the story as a whole.

Reading Next: The Night Fairy by Laura Amy Schlitz (and still reading Vera by Elizabeth von Arnim).

Finding Violet Park by Jenny Valentine

I began my journey into the world of 1001 Children’s Books by selecting the very last title listed. Finding Violet Park had been lingering on my shelves for a few years, bought at a this-bookshop-is-bankrupt sale years before. I never quite knew whether I should read it or discard it, until I saw it listed here. Yay for persuading me to pick up a long-forgotten book from my TBR shelves.

Dutch version of Finding Violet Park by Jenny Valentine // Published in English by Harper Collins in 2007 (Also published as "Me, the Missing, and the Dead")

Dutch version of Finding Violet Park by Jenny Valentine // Published in English by Harper Collins in 2007 (Also published as “Me, the Missing, and the Dead”)

In Finding Violet Park Lucas Swain goes on a journey of self-discovery in which he comes to terms with his broken family and learns to face the imperfect nature of his missing father, after finding the abandoned urn of concert pianist Violet Park at a taxi stand.

I did not think Finding Violet Park was extraordinary. But it was a lovely read nonetheless. Lucas Swain is entirely realistic and easy to relate to. The style of the book is humorous. The short chapters ensured that I rushed through the book without feeling hurried or inattentive. There is a bit of suspension of disbelief required for the many coincidental relations between events and characters, but at the same time this might be explained by Lucas’ conviction that Violet Park wanted him to find her urn for a reason.

In short: I really enjoyed Finding Violet Park, and I am glad I did not toss the book out when I moved. At the same time, I find I have very little to say about it. (Hah, and here I thought I was going to get back to blogging full-swing).

Finding Violet Park counts towards the Children’s Books Project. It also counts as first book down (1/37) for my personal 2015 TBR challenge.

Currently reading: Vera by Elizabeth von Arnim.
Next up in the Children’s Books Challenge: The Wonderful Adventures of Nils by Selma Lagerlöf.

DNF: How to Build a Girl by Caitlin Moran

how to build a girl

How to Build a Girl – Caitlin Moran
Harper, September 2014

Review Copy provided by the publisher

Two years ago, I read How to Be a Woman by Caitlin Moran, which left me with mixed feelings. Reading my review now, I feel I am quite mild in my judgement of the book. Or perhaps, I started feeling more uncomfortable with Moran’s vision of feminism as time passed.

Knowing this, you might wonder why I requested a copy of How to Build a Girl when it was offered to me for review. To be honest, in hindsight I ask myself the same question. But I can answer it: Given the fact that I quite enjoyed Moran’s more personal reflections in How to Be a Woman, I thought a novel might suit her better, as it would leave her with more room for anecdotes and less for general ideas on feminism. That being the case, I was likely to enjoy it more.

Now I should state that I think my patience with books is a lot shorter now that I have so few moments a day in which I can read, and that being the case I tend to abandon books more quickly (I usually persevered until the very end), and am irritated a lot easier. The fact that I did not finish a book as such is less strong a judgement than it used to be.

You can probably see it coming from miles off: I did not enjoy How to Build a Girl more. Instead, I was irritated much more quickly, and abandoned the book hardly 40 pages in. The first reason being that instead of the novel format working to the advantage of Moran, it felt like it did not fit the writing at all. From the first I was asking whether the writing should be read as fiction or a form of autobiography. The preface explicitly states it is not – and yet the style seemed to suggest it somehow? Secondly, I just do not seem to share Moran’s sense of humour. Whereas I found her suitably funny in How to Be a Woman, the observations and puns in her text (of which there are a lot) fell entirely flat for me.

And so I gave up. Rather too quickly perhaps? After all, I was just 40 pages in.. Tell me, should I give Moran another go? Or is this simply a case of bad fit between author and me as a reader?

The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender by Leslye Walton

The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender – Leslye Walton // Walker Books, October 2014 // Review copy kindly provided by the publisher

The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender combines a number of things that appeal to me: a beautiful cover (though that might be a shallow reason), an interesting title (same), a multigenerational story that for once is told from the perspective of one person, and most of all it being the story about a girl with wings, it made me think of Eep by Joke van Leeuwen which I read and enjoyed two years ago. I was curious how this very different book would compare, because in some ways it does tackle the same themes of difference and love — themes that cannot help but be interesting, right?

To many, I was myth incarnate, the embodiment of a most superb legend, a fairy tale. Some considered me a monster, a mutation. To my great misfortune, I was once mistaken for an angel. To my mother, I was everything. To my father, nothing at all. To my grandmother, I was a daily reminder of loves long lost. But I knew the truth—deep down, I always did.

I was just a girl.

Ava Lavender is born with the wings of a bird. The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender traces the story of her grandmother and mother, as well as her extended family, as Ava tries to understand what makes her who she is. Love plays a key role in that history: familial, unrequited, long ignored, returned, and any other form of it.

Maybe it was because I had only recently finished The House of the Spirits by Allende, but Walton’s book reminded me a little of that: it shares the multigenerational storyline, the influence of magical realism as both deal with the intervening and lasting force of people who have died, and the engaging and sometimes poetic style. Mind you, I am not saying Walton writes like Allende (or that that is a bad or a good thing). It is just that I found both books to offer a very engaging style that draws you in right away. And in contrast with Allende’s book, my attention didn’t wane after the 100 page mark. Instead, it increased. Where at first I had to get used to Walton’s occasional use of repetition of certain phrasings throughout chapters, wondering if it didn’t feel awkward at times, I began to appreciate it more as it started to feel like a fitting portrayal of the echoes along generations from time to time. The book itself, the story, but also the style, drew me in along the way, and by the end I was loath to put it down at the end of a nursing session or because other work needed to be done.

Besides all the reasons I noted earlier on why Ava Lavender appealed to me from the start, upon finishing I can say that it has other things going for it as well: the worldbuilding, the characters (particularly Ava, Henry, Cardigan, and Rowe), the narration, and definitely the way in which the “weird” and otherworldly is portrayed as part of everyday life, or in a sense, really is regular like everything else. The only drawback for me? The very last pages had me a little confused. It certainly has that kind of ending where I am not sure what I am supposed to think. But in a way that fits the book perfectly as well?

Perhaps I appreciate the book more now that I sit down to write this post. Returning to the first words of the book, quoted above, upon having finished it, it is lovely to see the story comes full circle — or to see that a very brief version of it is actually told in that first paragraph. That may make it seem rather too simple or stylised, but instead I think it is quite an accomplishment to have such an image reverberate throughout the book — lovely, really, as is the whole of Ava Lavender‘s story.