These Foolish Things by Deborah Moggach

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The adage is that the book is always better. Now I’m enough of a realist that I recognise that this isn’t always true, but in this case I found the book because of the soon-to-be-released film, so hey, it’s all good. “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” with the astounding cast list including Judy Dench, Bill Nighy, Tom Wilkinson, Penelope Wilton and Celia Imrie, is due for release in the UK next month, and this trailer sent me hunting:

Looks awesome, and I cant wait for worldwide release. But in the meantime we have the book which is fantastic in it’s own right, although not as much of a giggle-fest as the film looks to be. I find that sort of thing doesn’t work as well in text anyway. Moggach’s writing is light and easy, although this is definitely one for more mature audiences. Somehow I doubt many people under thirty would appreciate this one.

We start off in London, where an overworked doctor of Indian extraction is driven to exasperation when his grotesque father-in-law moves back in with him and his wife. She hunts madly for a new “Home” for him, but at this rate they’ve all heard of him and wont take the old lecher on. One visit from a wheeler-dealer relative from Bangalore later and an idea is born. And so Dunroamin, an ageing hotel leftover from the days of the Raj shifts from low end B&B to a residence hotel catering to elderly Britons. Lured by the low cost of living, the residents learn to deal with new people, a new culture, and manage to wake themselves from the lethargy of being alone too much.

The contrast is drawn subtly, between the pictures of elderly invalids who transform back into real people with nothing more than sunshine and social interaction. But the neglect of the parents by their children is not the whole story Moggach is telling. In the interactions with their adult children, the message is clear… we neglect our parents needs because we’re neglecting our own.

In the insanity of modern life we struggle for the material things. Private schools and soccer lessons, the newest designer handbags and Apple’s latest toys. We work so hard to keep up with the Joneses that we’re too distracted to realise what’s going on inside ourselves. So we go to Yoga and have affairs, trying to fill the gap and never realise what we’re missing is the connection each other. We’re lonely because in the rat race the other rats are competition, not family… even when you’re sleeping with them.

View all my reviews

We Two: Victoria and Albert: Rulers, Partners, Rivals by Gillian Gill

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

“We Two” is one of those rarest of bookstore treasures, the readable history. Not historical-fiction mind you, but the straight up real thing. It’s not funny or cutesy, it doesn’t have dialogue, it doesn’t “sex up” history. It doesn’t need to. Not when the subject matter is such a complicated and intricate web of interpersonal relationships. Like peeling layers of old, yellowing paper from a wall, Gillian Gill tries to sift truth from PR nearly a century old. On top of that, somehow she manages to keep an dense text clear and lively despite the twisted and tortured mess of pre-WWII European political scene.

Aside from the neatly drawn picture and relationship of the couple that are arguably the most well known monarchs ever, we’re also given some much needed clarity on their world. The royal marriage markets, the city-states of Germany with their multitude of princes, the sudden appearance of the Royal Residences at Osborne House, Balmoral castle and later, Sandringham House all become clear and logical.

Gill also does not shy away from dealing with the public opinion of the Prince-Consort either. Albert was respected by those who worked with him, and loved by family, but poorly received and tolerated by the aristocracy who had their excesses curbed and the lower classes who seem to have always perceived him as foreign- no doubt due to the German accent he never rid himself of. Her take on the Queen herself is a picture of a woman almost obsessed with her adored husband, yet short tempered and downright petulant at times. Before Albert’s death we only see glimpses of the proud matriarch she is remembered as. She does avoid the whole John Brown controversy, covering it with a paragraph or two, but then, that is only right as here we are dealing mostly with events previous to Albert’s death.

All in all, it’s a strong, dense read. In all probability I’ll be looking at some other works to contrast it with, just to get a clearer picture of whether there is much bias here, and if so where it lies.

View all my reviews

Blood and Iron by Elizabeth Bear

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Elizabeth Bear is one of those names I’ve been seeing on the shelf in the bookstore forever and never managing to pick up. Always there’s something else to tempt me away from taking on a “new” established author to follow. Usually a new title by someone I’m already following. My husband, however, has a few of The Promethean Age novels and has been recommending them to me, so when I wanted a taste of new fantasy, I just went to his shelf.

In Blood and Iron Elizabeth Bear throws you into the deep end of the pool and expects you to swim. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Elements of both really, which ironically enough mirrors the themes of the novel, duality, conflict and balance.

The writing is dense, and well crafted, but there is much confusion in the continually switching between the three POV characters, all in the first person. Perhaps part of the problem lies in the fact that for the ebook edition I have, I was forced to convert formats to one my reader prefers. Occasionally that causes formatting problems that can cause confusion when things like decorative dividers are lost. You have to work at this one, and you have to be willing to leave control of the story in the hands of the storyteller, and let her keep you in the dark a while.

Another factor is actually the meat of the story… Ms Bear takes up the threads of a number of myth and legend cycles of the British Isles and weaves them into a neat whole. Folklore purists will twitch, and folk unfamiliar with the conventions of the Gaelic languages will flinch, but mostly it works. Perhaps this work is best appreciated by those with at least a passing familiarity of the legends of the Good Neighbours as opposed to those who think the Fae folk are cute little pixies with teardrop shaped wings and pastel tutus.

The plot includes a number of mechanics I havent seen in use before for the war between man and fae, and that always pleases me to no end, having read as much fantasy as I have. Generally authors lose points with me for dragging out the Arthurian legends, but it’s well handled here as a subplot.

It’s a strong novel, if confusing here and there. If you have the time to spend for slow, careful reading, and enjoy more adult, Celtic based depictions of the Fae it’s not a bad choice at all.

View all my reviews

The Midwife of Venice by Roberta Rich

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Roberta Rich gives us the story of a Jewish midwife living in Venice in the late 15th century, her husband, imprisoned at Malta, and the extraordinary chain of events that results in their reunion.

As a fast read, this works. The research appears to be solid, but it carries a lighter tone than many historical novels end up with, particularly when there is a great deal of research involved. It’s well put together, although once again I lament the current fad for twin storylines divided by chapter… a convention I usually find irritating. but that’s just me.

Overall a solid freshman entry, but Rich just doesn’t blow me away. Not a must read, but not a bad choice for a “getaway read” or while waiting for something that really lights your fire to hit the shelves.



View all my reviews

Secret Daughter by Shilpi Somaya Gowda

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Often I avoid things that have been hyped too much to me, so I admit to avoiding this novel after seeing it everywhere. I picked it up because well, it aint easy for a a first novel to rocket to the top of the NYT Best Sellers list. There had to be something there… And so a few nights ago when I couldn’t sleep I flicked past it on the ereader again and decided to give it a look.

Wow. Shilpi Somaya Gowda grabs you right off the bat and just doesn’t let go. In her open, almost brazen style, she leads us through the tangled web of global life, where cultures don’t just clash, but knot together in tangles that take generations to harmonize.

The white woman loves her Indian husband, but cannot embrace his culture which seems frighteningly alien and complex to her. The husband who never takes the time to teach either her or their adopted Indian daughter about that culture- too deeply sunk in the western cult of success. The daughter who doesn’t fit into either world, raging and rebelling until finally she comes to understand that there is no need to choose.

Gowda forces an acknowledgement that racism and sexism still exist, just on a level so subtle and complex half the time we dont even realise the quiet ways it shades our cultures. Perhaps it’s more apparent when one contrasts the “American Way” with the older, more intricate culture of India.

Immigrants from all over the world cluster more and more tightly in microcosms of their own nationalities here in the west. They are considered suspicious, their way of life under fire, attacked for not surrendering their cultural identities and languages. Perhaps the message here is one that needs to be heard. You can, and should be both.

And yes Mother, I know you hate the smell of curry. Shut up and sit down, I love me some Chicken Korma. Pass the Naan.

• Share this:
• Share
• Share