One Day, David Nicholls (Hodder, 2010)

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Dex & Em; Em & Dex. The couple get together on 15th July in 1988, the night of their graduation. On the same date, over the next 20 years, we visit the two protagonists in a non-linear, and almost epistolary, narrative style, reminiscent of Niffenegger’s The Time Traveler’s Wife.

Dexter Mayhew, now a television presenter, lives a cavalier lifestyle and thrives upon a cocktail of sexual affairs, drugs and alcohol. As a reader, one of the most difficult decisions will be whether or not to feel sympathy for Dexter, who finds difficulty in dealing with the pressure of fame and the eventual fall into obscurity.

Hard-working Emma Morley battles confidence and self-belief in her dream of becoming a successful writer; meanwhile, she finds work as a primary school teacher and has an unfortunate string of hopeless boyfriends.

You will find yourself desperately hoping that Emma and Dexter will be together, a couple who are simply meant for each other. Nicholls’ writing expertise shines through in this masterpiece, which will tug at your heart strings and leave you with a tear in your eye. By the way, try to avoid watching the movie adaptation beforehand, in order to avoid spoiling the twists and turns of this emotionally turbulent novel.

Nicholls more than establishes himself as a master of romance fiction with One Day, simultaneously displaying his great sense of humour, which will have you laughing out loud. This is more than can be said for Ian, one of Emma’s boyfriends, and a relentlessly awful comedian.

I feel that One Day would have benefited from a more consistent use of the present tense; at times, the story lost its emphasis, whilst the flow of the normally effortless narrative was disrupted, as a result of it slipping into the past tense. Nonetheless, this is one of the finest romantic-comedy novels of the century, which, in the style of Nick Hornby, and High Fidelity in particular, also gives us an educative look into British life in the 90s. One Day – original, hilarious and heartbreaking – is destined to become a classic.

The Book Thief, Markus Zusak (Black Swan, 2008)

‘Thanks for the beautiful review [...] all best and much respect.’

Markus Zusak, 2013 (via Twitter)

Narrated by Death – not something that can be said about most novels; however, Zusak pulls it off wonderfully. A dry sense of humour, short and blunt sentences, as well an interaction with the reader are all characteristics which make Death the perfect narrator for The Book Thief.

The book thief is Liesel Meminger, a German girl, who is delivered to the house of Hans and Rosa Hubermann at the start of the novel. En route, she encounters Death for the first time, following the loss of her brother. We are told that they will meet each other on two further occasions.

The first book stolen by Liesel is a gravedigger’s manual which she gathers up from the snow after her brother’s burial. She goes on to steal several others, which she studies religiously; she later learns to read and write, with the aid of her Papa, Hans, with whom she shares a very close bond.

We get a better idea of the mysterious Hubermanns, when they selflessly take in and hide Max Vandenburg, a Jewish fist-fighter. Liesel develops a close friendship with Max, who is likewise a victim of Nazi persecution. The literature produced by Max for his friend Liesel truly enforces the novel’s emphasis on words, particularly in regards to their strength and importance at a time of great oppression and loneliness, where many people desperately desired to escape and rebel.

One of those who rebels is Rudy, a school-friend of Liesel, who, one day, dresses up like Jesse Owens and sprints through the streets of Molching. His affection shared with Liesel, and his constant pestering for just one kiss, makes for a beautiful, yet heart-breaking love story in The Book Thief.

Zusak places us in Himmel Road, at the centre of Nazi influence in Germany, allowing us to witness the suffering of innocent Germans, both at the hands of the British, who bombard the city in air raids, and of their fellow countrymen, who march shackled Jews through the streets to concentration camps.

My only real criticism would be the use of the German pejoratives saumensch and saukerl, which I felt lost their meaning through overuse. However, I feel that with this gem, Zusak has produced one of the most excellent novels of our century – sheer brilliance and originality – and one that I would steal, given the chance.

Fat Girl Fairy Boy, Carol McConkie (Blue Star Books, 2013)

Fat Girl Fairy Boy tells the story of Frieda Kunkelheimer, an ageing Hollywood actress and her make-up artist/closest friend, Robin Morris. Carol McConkie’s skilful biographical narration takes us individually through the lives of each protagonist, from birth, to the start of their endearing friendship and later on a trip destined for South America; a journey which will change their lives forever.

Frieda was always pretty, despite being labelled as ‘ugly’ by Ursula, the stern German grandmother by whom she was raised. A social recluse, Frieda is more content with the company of her animal friends, who return her affection and do not call her nasty names like the bullies at school. But her negligent childhood and further traumatic experiences cause psychological damage, a theme handled excellently by McConkie; Frieda bottles up her feelings leading to emotional detachment, she develops a hatred for mirrors and discovers that the only way to deal with these problems is to run…

Robin finds his love for fashion when dressing up with the leftover materials from his mother’s job. He is mollycoddled by his mother and this pampering leads to a fear of flying, driving and most importantly of illness, with which he is plagued from an early age. Robin’s homosexuality and lower social standing make him feel inferior in the world, until some bittersweet good fortune emerges from a heartbreak, which helps him to achieve his dreams: to become a make-up artist.

McConkie, with her expert characterisation, helps to maintain our closeness with Frieda and Robin throughout their personal journeys and struggles, as if we were part of the story; you will find yourself hoping for happy outcomes to two lives riddled with pain, shedding tears of sadness, joy and laughter along the way.

The author’s versatility as a writer is made evident as she increases the pace, injecting adventure and excitement into the second half of the novel, where a planned plane journey to Brazil goes horribly wrong.

Although this section of the novel contains the darkest parts of Fat Girl Fairy Boy, it is in this disaster that the two friends forget the superficial world of showbiz and consequently find the answer to their problems in the most unlikely place: an El Salvadoran jungle. Frieda finally fills the hole left in her heart by a neglected childhood and Robin discovers strength and boldness from a past-life.

My only complaint about the novel is that I wish it was longer! I wanted to continue reading on and on. Nonetheless, Carol McConkie achieves so much, educating us on decades of US history, through the Great Depression, WWII, 60s counter-culture and Americo-Latin American political relations. In Fat Girl Fairy Boy she has produced an absolute gem – an emotional, well-written novel of friendship and self-discovery – and I look forward to reading more from her!

Reviewed as an eBook for Book Hub, Inc.

Available at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, iTunes,
Google Books, and coming soon to SONY!

The House by the Thames and the people who lived there, Gillian Tindall (Pimlico, 2007)

A brief warning to the reader: if you are expecting, like I was,  a present-day London-based One Hundred Years of Solitude, albeit on a smaller scale, you will be somewhat disappointed. I think this teaches us not to judge a book by its cover. What we do receive nonetheless is an endearing historical account spanning nearly half a millennium, about the people who lived in, and the area surrounding,  a lone house on Bankside: number 49.

Gillian Tindall takes us on an exciting journey through the centuries, focussing specifically on the Southwark area, which as she states herself, has often been overlooked by historians.

This is surprising, as we encounter interesting characters from the top of the social and financial hierarchy, like Anna Lee, a famous moviestar, right down to the destitute labourers living in squalor. Tindall delves into the lives of the poor, reminiscent of Dickens, to whom she alludes at times, highlighting the lives of both desperation and privilege on Bankside.

One of the book’s main features is Tindall’s flowing prose style; not typical of historical accounts, it captivates the reader, effectively holding our attention throughout and developing like a novel until its conclusion. In The House by the Thames and the people who lived there, we are educated and enthralled by the socio-economic history of London’s bankside, which takes us from the watermen company of the Sells, the most prominent family in the book, right up to the building of the Globe and the Tate Modern. Together, these two edifices have preserved the life of its quiet neighbour number 49 to the present-day and secured the prolongation of its fame in the future on Bankside.

Husbands & Other Lovers, Jane Elizabeth Varley (Orion, 2006)

In this novel, we encounter multiple relationships, sometimes interlinking, introducing us to wealthy figures like the successful Robert who works in PR, to more aspiring characters, like Jasmine, a young photographer and interior designer.

Husbands & Other Lovers deals primarily with the relationship between James, a lawyer, and Susannah, an estate agent, which despite its idyllic appearances, is suffering some problems beneath the surface. James’s alcoholism is their greatest obstacle, which is effectively dealt with by Varley, capturing the destructive nature of his ‘illness’, from denial, to acceptance and finally to rehabilitation.

James’s brother Robert also hides dark secrets and desires behind closed doors; abusing, manipulating and controlling women. However, Varley does not present a one-sided story and simply condemn Robert’s behaviour; she delves into the childhood of each character and explores how past experiences can have grave psychological effects later in life.

Throughout the novel, we witness the fallout from Robert’s previous marriage to Tabitha, who fights for escape from her controlling ex-husband, in an attempt to gain freedom for herself and her daughter. Tabitha is supported by Theo, from the United States, with whom she embarks upon a long-distance relationship; a lovely touch, despite its struggles, to a novel permeated by failing marriages and affairs.

This is not a fairy-tale novel, and thus the final outcomes are not idyllic, but they reflect the true story of modern-day families and marriages, which are frequently affected by divorce, alcoholism and other associated problems. Nonetheless, Husbands & Other Lovers demonstrates a positive view of human nature, as Susannah and James overcome their issues, maturing and developing along the way, and eventually discovering their true desires in life.

It was a shame not to see life through the eyes of Matthew, Sussanah’s son, in regards to his experiences of living with an alcoholic father, and the consequential breakdown of his parents’ marriage. Nonetheless, Varley produces an excellent novel, which insightfully explores relationships in the twenty-first century, emphasising how the decisions which parents make can greatly influence their children’s futures.

The Interpretation of Murder, Jed Rubenfeld (Headline, 2007)

The death of debutante Elizabeth Rutherford and the attack on Nora Acton the following night coincides with Sigmund Freud’s arrival to New York. The latter is due to deliver a series of lectures at Clark University. Rubenfeld proposes his hypothesis for the latter’s dislike of the US, which forms the backbone to this thought-provoking novel.

Detective Littlemore heads the investigation’s inquiries, while Freud entrusts Stratham Younger, the first-person narrator of the novel, to conduct several psychoanalysis sessions with the surviving victim, Miss Acton. This is where this unique novel comes into its own, as we gain an insight into Freud’s psychoanalytic methods and his beliefs, specifically in regards to the Oedipus complex. We also encounter some Shakespeare, through Stratham’s alternative interpretation of Hamlet’s ‘To be or not to be’ speech.

The picture of the US at the turn of the twentieth-century painted by Rubenfeld captures the country’s immense growth; economically, populously and physically, with the appearance of many skyscrapers. The author’s tendency to shift from this development to a Freudian conspiracy or a murder investigation may cause confusion for some. I, however, feel that this shift in perspective reflects the disjointed nature of a murder inquiry, while adding to the suspense of this exciting novel.

For the most part, the institutions of law and psychology remain apart, pursuing separate leads, nonetheless, we see a merging of the two, highlighting the importance of latter particularly, in criminal inquiries. Some may point out a few inconsistencies in The Interpretation of Murder, but I personally think that this novel, full of shocking twists, will keep you thinking throughout. A superb debut from Jed Rubenfeld; I look forward to reading its sequel The Death Instinct.

The City of Shadows, Michael Russell (Avon, 2012)

In The City of Shadows, we are given an insight into Ireland, specifically Dublin, in the build-up to WWII. I myself had very little prior knowledge of this period in Ireland, and was surprised to learn about the strong influence of Nazism, the strength of the Catholic Church and the hostility against homosexuals. More well-informed readers may be more familiar with this history, and would probably warn me not to take it as given, as this is nonetheless a fictional work.

Through Stefan Gillespie’s investigation, in which he discovers the bodies of Vincent Walsh and Susan Field, Hannah Rosen’s  friend,  we are taken to Danzig and back, delving into the darkest corners of life. These are not the only two deaths we encounter in The City of Shadows, as institutional corruption in the government, the police and the church uncovers bribery, blackmail and a lack of consideration for the value of human life.

The pastoral location of West Wicklow, Stefan’s childhood home, is also explored, where Tom, his son, now lives with his grandparents. Here lies the underlying subplot: a fight for justice. The local priest attempts to send Tom away, owed to the views of his Protestant father and his late Jewish mother. This battle illustrates the fragility of human nature, as Stefan becomes a product of the evil against which he is fighting.

Meanwhile, the love affair between Stefan and Hannah Rosen, a Jewish friend of the deceased Susan, is tested by the discriminatory society and by distance, as she travels to Danzig and later follows her Jewish roots to Palestine.

I felt somewhat disappointed with the conclusion of the novel, which was not as romantic or ideal as I had expected; nevertheless, it is a realistic ending to a gripping mystery novel, into which Michael Russell cleverly weaves the history of the era. An excellent debut by an author from whom I hope to hear more in the coming years.