The Soldier's Curse by Meg and Tom Keneally

In the Port Macquarie penal settlement for second offenders, gentleman convict Hugh Monsarrat hungers for freedom. Originally transported for forging documents passing himself off as a lawyer, he is now the trusted clerk of the settlement's commandant. His position has certain advantages, such as being able to spend time in the Government House kitchen, being supplied with outstanding cups of tea by housekeeper Hannah Mulrooney, who is his most intelligent companion. 

Not long after the commandant heads off in search of a rumoured river, his beautiful wife, Honora, falls ill with a sickness the doctor is unable to identify. When Honora dies, it becomes clear she has been slowly poisoned. Monsarrat and Mrs Mulrooney suspect the commandant's second-in-command, Captain Diamond, a cruel man who shares history with Honora. Then Diamond has Mrs Mulrooney arrested for the murder. Knowing his friend will hang if she is tried, Monsarrat knows he must find the real killer.

There are a handful of points that succinctly describe this first of the Monsarrat series by the father and daughter Keneally team. Firstly, that it is (and no doubt meant to be) an easy ‘whodunit’ read, that although set in the difficult and contentious convict era, keeps things light and entertaining.

Then there is the authorship question … who did the actually writing, Tom or Meg?

Thankfully, someone did their homework and discovered that Meg wrote and Tom edited, which made sense to us as no one felt The Soldier’s Curse was written in a typical Tom Keneally style.

Overwhelmingly, this book was considered a ‘good but not great’ read and that its biggest plus was the under-dramatized and ordinariness of convict life. A real breath of fresh air from the grisly and brutal depiction currently favoured.

Perfectly written with a screenplay in mind, the two main characters, Monsarrat and Mrs Mulrooney, combine to make the classic detective duo within an Australian historical context. Something we are sure will not be missed by film and TV producers.

Always supportive of Australian talent, we wish the Keneallys well with their latest project and our group will await the television series/movie with interest and careful optimism.

 When Emma Rouault marries Charles Bovary she imagines she will pass into the life of luxury and passion that she reads about in sentimental novels and women's magazines. But Charles is a dull country doctor, and provincial life is very different from the romantic excitement for which she yearns. In her quest to realize her dreams she takes a lover, and begins a devastating spiral into deceit and despair.

This year’s classic comes in the form of Gustave Flaubert’s Madame Bovary,

which, despite its undeniable ‘wordy-ness’, was mostly enjoyed by our prudent classic readers. Biggest praises go to the descriptive passages and the humour that sits surprisingly well within the story, lifting the enjoyment level up a few notches for most of us.

It would be fair to say that Emma was not well liked by our group … thought to be, for example, ‘… an unlikable, self-absorbed, unrealistic girl/woman’ with ‘… a life with no goals outside her own selfish existence’, ‘a modern day desperate housewife[!]’. Harsh words, but mostly shared by all our members.

No doubt this was the view the author intended his readers to take. He did little to inform us on why Emma had become such a self-centred soul, and it was noted that the lack of an omnipresence narrative leaves the reader (if deciding to even care) wondering how she became so. The fact that some reviewers see Madame Bovary as a prelude to feminist writing we found interesting. Back then, well bred women with the good luck to make a respectable marriage did not carrying on in such a manner, but whether this donates feminist leanings, or simply an ill matched pairing is debatable. It could be that Flaubert was simply writing a tale of a relationship strangled by unrealistic dreams and high expectations.

Whatever the intent, a classic such as Madame Bovary does not survive the test of time unless it resonates with a series of generations. This is clear when it was asked by a member, ‘Don’t we all know someone like Emma?’ Yes, we do. And it seems as though Flaubert was on the money when it came to bringing her to life.

Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout

Olive Kitteridge: indomitable, compassionate and often unpredictable. A retired schoolteacher in a small coastal town in Maine, as she grows older she struggles to make sense of the changes in her life. She is a woman who sees into the hearts of those around her, observes their triumphs and tragedies.

We meet her stoic husband, bound to her in a marriage both broken and strong, and a young man who aches for the mother he lost – and whom Olive comforts by her mere presence, while her own son feels overwhelmed by her complex sensitivities. 

A penetrating, vibrant exploration of the human soul, the story of Olive Kitteridge will make you laugh, nod in recognition, wince in pain, and shed a tear or two.

How can a critical, ornery, self-absorbed character, totally lacking in empathy and manners, become the latest rage in fiction? Well, however it can happen, the popularity of Olive Kitteridge was clearly evident in our group discussion with nearly everyone giving high scores and great praise to Strout for her writing style and character depth.

Without exception there was praise for the short story style and how the whole community was introduced through Olive. A sense of place was quickly created and moving stories of the human condition found a spot in our hearts … just as the author intended, we are sure.

While not a page turner, the readability of Olive was also commented on, ‘ … happy to pick it up’ , and ‘ … couldn’t wait to read on’, were some of the remarks. Others suggested that the writing was pleasant to read because it was ‘not over the top’ or pretentious, and would not hesitate to recommended it as a ‘really good read’.

Quite often a concurring opinion can lead to a somewhat stilted conversation, but in this case we had a lively and completely satisfying discussion with plenty of laughs and recollecting of characters and narratives. In the end the only disagreement came from the likability of Olive. Some grew to like, or at least feel sorry for her, while others continued to loathe her. Which ever the case, we all agreed that Olive Kitteridge, as unlikeable as she might be, was a most interesting character to read about.

Three Sisters, Three Queens

When Katherine of Aragon is brought to the Tudor court as a young bride, the oldest princess, Margaret, takes her measure. With one look, each knows the other for a rival, an ally, a pawn, destined – with Margaret’s younger sister Mary – to a sisterhood unique in all the world. The three sisters will become the queens of England, Scotland and France. 

United by family loyalties and affections, the three queens find themselves set against each other. Katherine commands an army against Margaret and kills her husband James IV of Scotland. But Margaret’s boy becomes heir to the Tudor throne when Katherine loses her son. Mary steals the widowed Margaret’s proposed husband, but when Mary is widowed it is her secret marriage for love that is the envy of the others. As they experience betrayals, dangers, loss and passion, the three sisters find that the only constant in their perilous lives is their special bond, more powerful than any man, even a king.

We have some keen history lovers in our group, so it would be an interesting experiment, reading a Philippa Gregory. Historical fiction can play an important role in widening the knowledge base of fiction readers, especially when the research is thorough and accurate. Gregory fills this role admirably and the majority of our group recognised this.


However, there were some of us who felt Three Sisters lacked something essential in the details and found it hard to continue with the writing style and a quick search on Google delivered more information, filling in some important gaps. It could be argued this alone is a positive reason to read historical fiction. Any book that has you reaching further for information has to be a good thing, right?


Then we had those of us who enjoyed both the content and writing style. The details of court life and the role of women within the royal fracas was found to be entertaining and engaging. Such a personal look into the women’s lives fills the need of the fiction reader, while at the same time imparting knowledge without the dry (and at times tedious) facts and figures of non-fiction.



Either way Three Sisters, Three Queens showed the clear lines between those who love their pure history and those who are willing to speculate and enjoy an intriguing tale within the confines of the past.

Talking to My Country by Stan Grant

An extraordinarily powerful and personal meditation on race, culture and national identity.

In July 2015, as the debate over Adam Goodes being booed at AFL games raged and got ever more heated and ugly, Stan Grant wrote a short but powerful piece for The Guardian that went viral, not only in Australia but right around the world. His was a personal, passionate and powerful response to racism in Australian and the sorrow, shame, anger and hardship of being an indigenous man. 

Stan Grant was lucky enough to find an escape route, making his way through education to become one of our leading journalists. He also spent many years outside Australia, working in Asia, the Middle East, Europe and Africa, a time that liberated him and gave him a unique perspective on Australia. This is his very personal meditation on what it means to be Australian, what it means to be indigenous, and what racism really means in this country.

If there is one issue in which our group finds complete agreement it would have to be the matter of racism. Over the years we have read many novels with this as either an underlying or central theme. It can lead to a highly emotional discussion, but one that always leaves us passionately opposed to what we consider one of the worst of all human flaws.

Grant’s Talking to My Country did not disappoint in the discussion stakes, and although the general opinion was one of high regard for what the author was saying, our views differed on how he said it.

Some felt that it was an especially personal account of suffered racism and on that level, very confronting. Grant’s childhood experiences … consistent relocating, indifferent teachers, juvenile justice … were not overly surprising to us and while he did encounter a certain amount of ‘luck’ in his educational path, we felt the strong family unit he was raised in helped in no small way to create a solid, resilient character. Something he put to good use in his chosen career.

There were those of us who tired a little of the repetitive nature of his dialogue, feeling he laboured the point just a little and there was some discussion of the reconciliation debate and what has (and hasn’t) changed in the last 20-25 years. How racists are Australians and why don’t those who believe differently speak out?

Then there is the Adam Goodes speech, the Australia Day invasion debate, deaths in custody and Indigenous education … all fiery issues that we spent the better part of 90 minutes discussing.

But in the end there were but two things said which sent a jolt through most of us …

As quoted from Stan Grant ‘… ours is an inheritance of sadness …’

And from Shirley ‘… I was brought up to be thankful that I was born in Australia, with a white face …’
As sad and alarming as both these statements are, they could be the start of moving towards a different way of thinking. Let’s hope that day arrives sooner rather than later.

On the Blue Train by Kristel Thornell

It was the work of a moment: On 4 December 1926, Agatha Christie became Teresa Neele, resident of the spa hotel, the Harrogate Hydro. With her wedding ring left behind, and her minimal belongings unpacked, the lost days begin.

Lying to her fellow guests about the death of a husband and child, Teresa settles in to the anonymity she so fiercely desires. Until Harry McKenna, bruised from the end of his own marriage, asks her to dance.

In this entrancing novel of creativity and grief, Kristel Thornell combines fact and fantasy to reconstruct Agatha Christie's retreat from a life that had become too difficult.


If a novel can be given a prize for creating stimulating conversation, On the Blue Train is a winner! Although our scores for this book did not widely vary, our views on whether Thornell successfully portrayed Christie’s lost days did.

Chris commented that she failed to see why this moment in Christie’s life needed to be written about, as it had already been done (numerous times) and we will never really know what happened, as Christie herself has refused to inform.

That said, it is made clear that this is a totally fictional account, blending fact and fiction into a novel that leaves much to the imagination concerning the author’s actions and thoughts. Besides, there were other issues that needed addressing … Denise found the ‘questionable adjectives’ encumbering and felt that Thornell was trying ‘way too hard’. This was an opinion shared by a few of our group which grew into a great discussion about the importance of language and over compensating with difficult words … a real annoyance for some of us! But for some, the language is what gave us place and time, feeling that it was intentionally written as Agatha Christie herself would have.

It also gave us the opportunity to envisage what we thought Christie might have been going through and experiencing during this time. The death of her mother, her pending divorce and a perceived case of writer’s block to us all added up to a woman going through a very trying time. How would any of us cope with such pressure? Again, some stimulating conversation that never fails to satisfy our willingness to openly share our thoughts on the more challenging stuff of life!

Generally, we found the characters a little on the light side, but everyone gave points for the research and descriptive hand used. It was agreed that this book is not a 'sticker', in the sense that it will be with you long after the reading. Then again, if you are a fan of Christie and her world (fictional or otherwise) it could be considered an essential read.

Alexander McCall-Smith, often referred to as 'Sandy" is one of the world's most prolific and best-loved authors. For many years he was a professor of medical law and worked in universities in the UK and abroad before turning his hand to writing fiction. 

He has written and contributed to more than 100 books, including specialist academic titles, short story collections, and a number of immensely popular children;s books. This month we will be reading a selection of Alexander McCall-Smith books.

If any author has a diversity of novels to choose from, McCall-Smith has. Everyone found something different to read … whether it was from 44 Scotland Street, Corduroy Mansions, Isabel Dalhousie or simply a collection of short stories, we all brought something to the table that had us smiling and shaking our heads in mirth. Fan or not, you have to acknowledge his talent for spinning a witty (albeit quirky) yarn.

McCall-Smith’s droll sense of humour and clever use of language found approval with the majority. And although some of us warmed to him more than others, his gentle stories and believable characters satisfied our group’s desire for skillful writing and gratifying discussion.

Some of us were first time McCall-Smith readers, others have been doing so for sometime, but if the general tone around the table is anything to go by, it could be that this month he acquired a few more converts to his already long list of aficionados!

Silas Marner by George Eliot

Wrongly accused of theft and exiled from a religious community many years before, the embittered weaver Silas Marner lives alone in Raveloe, living only for his precious hoard of gold. But when his money is stolen and an orphaned child, Eppie, finds her way into his house, Silas is given the chance to transform his life.

The story of an isolated man who learns to open his heart, Silas Marner was George Eliot’s favourite of her novels, combining humour, rich symbolism and pointed social criticism.

Classic fiction often brings a stimulating conversation to our meetings. The majority of our group has come to reading classics later in life, so what we lack in literary comment is made up for with unqualified, yet genuine observations.

This type of discussion can then lead to a very enlightening look at what can some times be a rather sombre or staid study.  

Generally speaking Silas Marner was well received. Praise was given to Eliot’s descriptive passages and character profiles. Village life was superbly portrayed with all the human characters tenderly drawn out. Everyone loved Dolly and her freely given advice on child-rearing, and anything else she felt needed saying! Empathy for Silas was also forth coming and even the neat and tidy, happy ending was forgiven.

There was some comment on the difficulty of the language and also the pace, which was just a little slow and frustrating for this busy time of year. We all agree that along with many other English classics, Silas is at its best when being read aloud. A few of us read out favourite passages and the group’s enjoyment was clearly evident.  

It was felt that the theme of redemption was strong and could apply to many modern stories today, but basically this was a beautifully told ‘fairy’ tale that did not fail in its aim to enchant us.

My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante

My Brilliant Friend is the gripping first volume in Elena Ferrante's widely acclaimed Neapolitan Novels. This exquisitely written quartet creates an unsentimental portrait of female experience, rivalry and friendship never before seen in literature.

The story of Elena and Lila begins in the 1950s in a poor but vibrant neighbourhood on the outskirts of Naples. They learn to rely on each other and discover that their destinies are bound up in the intensity of their relationship.

Elena Ferrante’s piercingly honest portrait of two girls’ path into womanhood is also the story of a nation and a meditation on the nature of friendship itself.

If scoring a book is any indication of its popularity, this month’s novel by Italian writer Elena Ferrante comes in a very poor last with our group.

Only two of us found the story of Lena and Lila transfixing, with vivid images and a compelling story that begs you to read on.

The majority of the group found little to interest them and much to annoy. They thought it repetitive, long and drawn out and felt the translation stunted and difficult to read.

How can a novel evoke such differing views? It is always interesting discovering what each person gets (or doesn’t get) from a book. A particular writing style, theme or plot can be all consuming to some, whereas another reader gleams little or nothing of interest from the same content.

Thankfully we have learnt that this exact circumstance can lead to a very interesting discussion … which we had this month. We covered the social structure of small, impoverished communities, family violence, friendship and rivalry, language and some of the very complex ideas played out within Ferrante’s four Neapolitan novels.

Some of us felt it was written more for an Italian audience and that the translation may not have done it justice. But those of us who are fans found everything to like in this novel … from the highly volatile atmosphere of poverty ridden Naples streets to the inner sanctum of two young girls discovering their place in a male dominated world of sex and violence.

Considering the global popularity of these novels, it now begs the question, will there be a movie? Or better yet, a series!

Lorna escapes her conventional Kensington family to marry an artist, Matt. They settle in a small cottage in Somerset, where their daughter Molly is born. But World War II puts an end to their immense happiness. Molly will have to wait longer to find love as she gamely grapples with work and sex in 1960s London, while Ruth, Lorna's granddaughter, has to wait longer still.

An enthralling examination of interweaving love and history, Consequences pinpoints the moments when three women in very different times find love.

We had a large turn out this month so our discussion turned out to be quite ‘lively’ (pun intended!). And although our scores were not far stretching (6-8), the overall perception of the story and Lively’s style was broad.


Most of us agreed the writing was clever and well structured with beautiful language that satisfied even the most dedicated logophile amongst us. Some loved the gentleness of the story and its characters with a predictability that they found comforting. Then again, there were those who found these exact traits annoying and felt the author needed to delve further into the historical setting and social changes of the time.


It was suggested that the characters, although likeable enough, were merely sketched and not drawn. We decided this particular aspect of the writing is exactly what kept the book’s pace going forward. Many of the characters’ inner workings were left for the reader to form themselves and the many family dynamics experienced through the generations were well done, without hysterics. Something a good percentage of our group appreciated.


Everyone found the artist, Matt and his wood-carving interesting and felt the author had done her research well here. In true Viti style, she suggested the wood-carving and its distinct lines could be a representation of the story line itself … as an outline with the details to be imagined by the appreciator of the art, and as such, the reader.


The title was also discussed, concluding that each generation was to live with the consequences of those before them. Overall, it was decided that as a woman’s book Consequences told a subtle and thoughtful story of familial relationships through the generations, with skilfully constructed characters and a storyline aimed to please, if not the hard-core reader, somewhere in the middle of enjoyable contemplation.

Slade House by David Mitchell

Turn down Slade Alley – narrow, dank and easy to miss, even when you’re looking for it. Find the small lack iron door set into the right-hand wall. No handle, no keyhole, but at your touch it swings open. Enter the sunlit garden of an old house that doesn’t quite make sense; too grand for the shabby neighbourhood, too large for the space it occupies.

 

This unnerving, taut and intricately woven tale by one of our most original and bewitching writers begins in 1979 and reaches its turbulent conclusion around Hallowe’en, 2015. Because every nine years, on the last Saturday of October, a ‘guest’ is summoned to Slade House. But why has that person been chosen, by whom and for what purpose? The answers lie waiting in the long attic, at the top of the stairs …

As a club we won’t usually revisit an author for at least a few years, preferring instead to widen our reading scope to new or different writers. But after reading the Bone Clocks last year, the release of Slade House was a must … and soon, before the magic of Bone Clocks disappeared into whatever realm it came from!

Not so much a sequel as a supplement to Bone Clocks, Slade House captivated us in much the same way … with a clever, complex storyline, fabulous characters and a fantastically enthralling plot. There was much to discuss of Mitchell’s bizarre tale, and thankfully Viti came through with her ever enlightening observations, such as the reference to Alice in Wonderland (the door to Slade House), and the house itself being likened to Doctor Who’s tardis. Then there was Mitchell’s use of the number 9, which Viti advised is the ancient symbol of regeneration, something the twins were totally into (albeit, in a most nasty way!) within the walls of Slade House.

We also made comment on Mitchell’s ability to balance the natural and supernatural. There are few of us that would say fantasy is our preferred genre, yet the exploits conjured up in his latest offering had all but one of us applauding. Denise was unimpressed, with little patience for the characters or the storyline. It is worth noting that she has never really taken to any of David Mitchell’s books, so it is not surprising that this one also left her with little joy.

As for the rest of us, we are keen to see what will come next … left with an open ending to rival the best, we have no doubt that Slade House will be back! The big question is … in what form?

Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee

Twenty-six-year-old Jean Louise Finch--"Scout"--returns home from New York City to visit her aging father, Atticus. Set against the backdrop of the civil rights tensions and political turmoil that were transforming the South, Jean Louise's homecoming turns bittersweet when she learns disturbing truths about her close-knit family, the town and the people dearest to her.

Memories from her childhood flood back, and her values and assumptions are thrown into doubt. Featuring many of the iconic characters from To Kill a Mockingbird, Go Set a Watchman perfectly captures a young woman, and a world, in a painful yet necessary transition out of the illusions of the past--a journey that can be guided only by one's conscience.

The long awaited sequel to Harper Lee’s classic has proved to be a slightly painful experience for some fans. The majority of our group were, to say the least, underwhelmed with it. Others found it totally unreadable, and then some found it impossible to believe Lee even wrote it!

Why? When the author is credited with writing one of the best novels of all time! Good question … and one we tried (in vain) to answer.

Much of the disappointment is seeded in the downfall of Atticus and the annoying immaturity of the adult Scout, but there were also several comments concerning the quality of the writing. Those of us who believe To Kill a Mockingbird to be one of the greats found it a stretch of the imagination that Lee could produce such a light weight novel.

With a little research into its publication, as a group we decided that the publishers who first read Watchman, turned Lee down for good reason. In fact, they probably did her a huge favour as, apparently, she then went on to write Mockingbird.

We did have some more positive opinions expressed. Those who enjoyed the Watchman sequel found it to be a realistic telling of the times. The fear of changes that were to come with the NAACP would have been widespread, and Atticus could not help but be influenced and guided by them. And Scout’s disillusionment and subsequent rebuking of her father gave her character the  ideology of the young, something many parents received during such tumultuous times.

It could be said that Mockingbird itself might well be Watchman’s worst enemy. For if you have had Atticus and Scout on a pedestal for 50 years, you are not likely to welcome a story that brings them crashing to earth!

But in the end,  if you want a conclusion to the Mockingbird tale, Go Set a Watchman is what’s on offer. As readers, we then have the power to accept or reject. Which will you do? 

Dear Life by Alice Munro

With her peerless ability to give us the essence of a life in often brief but spacious and timeless stories, Alice Munro illumines the moment a life is shaped — the moment a dream, or sex, or perhaps a simple twist of fate turns a person out of his or her accustomed path and into another way of being. Suffused with Munro’s clarity of vision and her unparalleled gift for storytelling, these stories (set in the world Munro has made her own: the countryside and towns around Lake Huron) about departures and beginnings, accidents, dangers, and homecomings both virtual and real, paint a vivid and lasting portrait of how strange, dangerous, and extraordinary the ordinary life can be.

In the years our club has been meeting we have not been big ‘short story’ readers, but the suggestion of reading Alice Munro gave us the perfect opportunity to experience one of the best in the business!

Dear Life proved to be very popular with our group. Although a collection of what you would not consider ‘uplifting’ stories, Munro nevertheless impressed us all with her sense of place, realistic characters and human frailties.

Everyone agreed that the writing was exceptional as we conceded that telling a short story is a particular skill and Munro has a way of popping you into the story mid-way and giving enough information to first get you interested, and keeping you that way. Then, delivering the punch that makes the whole story become clear. Not every writer can do this … and Munro not only does it, she does it well!

What we were all able to glean from this collection is quite exhaustive, so will only list a few here. Common themes we found were infidelity, disabilities, rural communities, teachers, doctors, dominating males … and strangely, trains. In every story there seemed to be someone leaving, arriving or waiting for a train? Make of that what you will.

There were a few negative comments. Mostly about the depressive nature of the tales. The down-side of life was a little too focused, with scant joy, although some found small snippets of humour scattered here and there. But in general, Dear Life may be a little too realistic for those looking for some escapism.

Our discussion eventually focused on Munro herself and the biographical nature of her writing. Some felt she vented much of her life through her stories … well, they say writing is good therapy. Thankfully, good writing can also hold much positive feedback for the reader!

The Eye of the Sheep by Sofie Laguna

Meet Jimmy Flick. He's not like other kids - he's both too fast and too slow. He sees too much, and too little. Jimmy's mother Paula is the only one who can manage him. She teaches him how to count sheep so that he can fall asleep. She holds him tight enough to stop his cells spinning. It is only Paula who can keep Jimmy out of his father's way. But when Jimmy's world falls apart, he has to navigate the unfathomable world on his own, and make things right.

Told from the mesmerising point of view and in the inimitable voice of Jimmy, this is an extraordinary novel about a poor family who is struggling to cope with a different and difficult child.

High scores all around could take this month’s book to the top of our list this year.

Consistent remarks such as, ‘Well written’, ‘great insight’, and ‘brilliantly portrayed’ went around the table, with everyone feeling much empathy for Jimmy and his whole family, even the father, whose struggle with alcohol and domestic violence would not normally get a great deal of sympathy from our group! We all thought Robbie a wonderful big brother and Paula a sad, yet endearing character whose only fault was she loved too much.

It was thought that Laguna found a unique way to tell a child’s story through his own autistic view of the world. It was left up to us, the readers, to fill in any gaps which, with Jimmy’s frankness and precision, we found easy to do (although some found it all a little overwhelming).

There were many social issues addressed in this book … mental health, domestic violence, education, community services and generational dysfunction, so if you are even a little sensitive to familial turmoil, you might find the contents a little disturbing.

But there was also an uplifting side to this novel. It gives good insight into children on the spectrum, their joys and challenges, and there is also hope and throughout the book, love … misguided at times, but love nonetheless.

The only criticisms were the repetitive nature of Jimmy’s narration, (which we realise was necessary for a true portrait of who he was) and the fact that certain problems associated with such a dysfunctional family were glossed over, or not addressed at all. In other words, it could have been so much worse!

Then again, without exception, everyone in our group knew of or had experience with an autistic child, either professionally or personally, an they all believe that Laguna got it right.

So if you pick up The Eye of the Sheep and don’t shy away from its confronting aspects, you’re in for a powerful read!

The Hare with Amber Eyes by Edmund De Waal

264 Japanese wood and ivory carvings, none of them bigger than a matchbox: Edmund de Waal was entranced when he first encountered the collection in his great uncle Iggie's Tokyo apartment. 

When he later inherited the 'Netsuke', they unlocked a story far larger and more dramatic than he could ever have imagined.

From a burgeoning empire in Odessa to fin de siecle Paris, from occupied Vienna to Tokyo, Emund de Waal traces the netsuke's journey through generations of his remarkable family against the backdrop of a tumultuous century.

It is possible that our group has found a new favourite non-fiction author in the guise of Edmund de Waal. His prize winning The Hare with Amber Eyes (Costa Biography Award 2010) impressed us on many levels.

Of course the historically accurate tracing of his family history through their nestsuke collection was well written and researched, but we also found the read to be informative and compelling on the Jewish culture and their struggles during the Nazi occupation of Austria.

We all lamented the quality of the writing, although some would have preferred the vocabulary a little less academic … then again, some enjoyed the discovery of new and somewhat tricky words!

It was mentioned by a few of our group that it took a little while to get into The Hare, but once snared (pun intended) it is a trap you are happy to be caught in. In fact, one member is in no hurry to finish and is purposely taking it slow and extending the enjoyment.

Everyone found themselves researching ‘nestsuke’ in an attempt to learn more about these miniature carvings, and we all hoped to discover the secret of the little hare with amber eyes. But to our disappointment, this cute little critter, although in his family’s collection, was no more special than any of the others. Why the title reference? We are none the wiser!

We then went on to have a lively discussion on a few related topics … collecting of trinkets and the familial attachment they can hold, the history of Jewish culture and anti-Semitism, and the fate of classic art during WWII, its survival and destruction.

Though there were some of us who found the timing for this subject was slightly off for them personally, the scope of material for discussion was more than adequate for yet another interesting monthly meeting, in which we all came away smiling. Thank you ladies!

The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert

5th January 1800. At the beginning of a new century, Alma Whittaker is born into a perfect Philadelphia winter. Her father, Henry Whittaker, is a bold and charismatic botanical explorer whose vast fortune belies his lowly beginnings as a vagrant in Kew Gardens. Alma's mother, a strict woman from an esteemed Dutch family, is conversant in five living languages (and two dead ones) and her knowledge of botany is equal to any man's. 

An independent girl with a thirst for knowledge, it is not long before Alma comes into her own within the world of plants and science. As Alma's careful studies of moss take her deeper into the mysteries of evolution, the man she comes to love draws her in the opposite direction - into the realm of the spiritual, the divine, and the magical. 
Alma is a clear-minded scientist; Ambrose is a Utopian artist. But what unites this couple is a shared passion for knowing - a desperate need to understand the workings of this world and the mechanisms behind all of life.

It would be a safe bet to say that most of our group were surprised by Elizabeth Gilbert’s latest novel. With her Eat Pray Love reputation preceding her, Gilbert’s Signature explores a completely different take on writing style. Most found the botanical history very interesting and loved the inclusion of Banks and Darwin within the pages. There was plenty to learn here, both historically and for the naturalist. To learn from a novel is something our group always happy to do.

It is also safe to say that the majority of us found the novel itself too long, that became quite exhausting in the end. Characters Alma and Henry were strong and clear, but so much energy was given to plants that there was little left for the other characters.

Regardless of these rebuffs, the scores were on the high side, with nothing below a five out of 10. So it cannot be said this book was a failure in the enjoyment stakes. If anything, we believe it worth the read, even if only to confirm that Gilbert is not just about fluffy, self affirmation (my words entirely!).   

Monsieur Perdu can prescribe the perfect book for a broken heart. But can he fix his own?

Monsieur Perdu calls himself a literary apothecary. From his floating bookstore in a barge on the Seine, he prescribes novels for the hardships of life. Using his intuitive feel for the exact book a reader needs, Perdu mends broken hearts and souls. The only person he can’t seem to heal through literature is himself; he’s still haunted by heartbreak after his great love disappeared.

Finally  Perdu hauls anchor and departs on a mission to the south of France, hoping to make peace with his loss and discover the end of the story. Joined by a bestselling but blocked author and a lovelorn Italian chef, Perdu travels along the country’s rivers, dispensing his wisdom and his books, showing that the literary world can take the human soul on a journey to heal itself.

We have started the year with a positive response to this month’s book. Everyone, without exception, found Little Paris Bookshop to be a delightful read that scored high in the enjoyment stakes. Mind you, there were varying degrees of enthusiasm – from extreme pleasure to mild enjoyment.

Either way, we had a wonderful discussion concerning many points, such as … the quirky, flamboyant characters, the ‘oh so French’ sense of place, philosophy, lyrical prose and the question of translations (Paris was translated from German) and how they interpret, to name just a few.

As a whole, our group loved the idea of Perdu and his floating library. The connection between books and people is always a popular theme with us and we love references to reading material in novels. Some of us would have liked this explored a little more, but this small remiss did not distract from the story in any way. If there was any real criticism it would be Perdu’s self-absorption, with a tendency towards repetition when it came to the loss of his one true love, Manon.

A large majority of our group have travelled in France and felt the description of the country side, canals, lochs and villages were very well done. So much so that one just wanted to ‘close your eyes and open them again in France!’

High praise for a light, yet intelligent novel that is a big contender for best read of 2016 … although it is early days yet!

It is 1922, and London is tense. Ex-servicemen are disillusioned, the out-of-work are demanding change. And in a genteel house in the south of the city, its inhabitants still recovering from the devastating losses of the First World War, life is about to be transformed.

Widowed Mrs Wray and her daughter, Frances  find themselves obliged to take in lodgers. The arrival of Lilian and Leonard Barber, a young couple of the ‘clerk class’ brings unsettling things with it – gramophone music, colour, fun. Open doors offer glimpses of the newcomers’ habits.

As Francis and Lilian are drawn into an unexpected friendship, loyalties begin to shift. Secrets are confessed and dangerous desires are admitted.

The most ordinary of lives, it seems, can explode into passion and drama.

If a bookclub’s year is set by the success of its first meeting, we are in for a beauty!

From ‘Loved it!’ to “Lacks direction’ and ‘Bloated narrative’ … these few comments sum up our group’s differing views of Sarah Waters’ latest novel The Paying Guests.

Our discussion focused mainly on Waters’ writing style. Some loved the way she is able to build tension and through narrative alone, create a perfect depiction of 1920s London … its people, class structure and political direction. Not an easy thing to do, but Waters does it not only well, but with real skill. The suppression experienced by Frances in England’s post war society is well represented and research for courtroom procedure spot on.

Some feel that Waters is a brave writer who has no fear in subscribing to the reader a duty of prediction and projection. No tidy little parcels tied up with bows and ribbons. Her characters and their situations read authentic, and as in real life, there are few precise outcomes. It is left to the reader to decide how such lives will continue.

This style of course, does not suit everyone. Some of the group found the novel too long and wordy. It lacked a sense of direction. The love triangle was found to be soppy and contrived, and altogether too predictable.

Once our diverging views were aired, we continued with a stimulating talk on domestic violence and the defining role of women in society throughout the centuries.

Hard to argue against the significance of a novel when it spawns such lively discussion … thank you ladies and welcome to another great year of reading!

Walking Free by Dr Munjed Al Muderis

  

In 1999, Munjed Al Muderis was a young surgical resident working in Baghdad when a squad of Military Police marched into the operating theatre and ordered the surgical team to mutilate the ears of army deserters. When the head of surgery refused, he was executed in front of his staff. Munjed's choices were stark -- comply and breach the medical oath 'do no harm', refuse and face certain death, or flee.
That day, Munjed's life changed forever. He escaped to Indonesia, where he boarded a filthy, overcrowded refugee boat, bound for Australia.
Like his fellow passengers, he hoped for a new life, free from dear and oppression, but for ten months he was incarcerated in what became known as the worst of the refugee camps, Curtin Detention Centre in Western Australia.
On 26 August 2000, Munjed was finally freed. Now, fourteen years late, he is one of the world's leading osseiointegration surgeons, transforming the lives of amputees with a pioneering technique that allows them to walk again. 

Finding the right voice for telling a biographical memoir, particularly in stressful and traumatic circumstances, can be a hit or miss affair. Too much emotion and the facts of a story are lost, too little and it becomes just another non-fiction book loaded with specifics.

Where does Walking Free land in this literary minefield? Well, our group, although scoring it high, generally found Al Muderis to be a little too removed from his situation and those around him. While using his professional skills to help, our readers felt he never really empathized with any of his fellow refugees and in his own mind, felt himself above their station.

It was pointed out by some that this could well be the product of his up-bringing and cultural class system.

Nobody argued this view and if honesty is important here, then the author did not fail to conform. For instance, we commented that he could of easily omitted the finer details of his escape from the hospital and Hussein’s henchmen, but instead he truthfully retold his act of hiding for hours in a women’s toilet before fleeing for his life. Not exactly hero worshipping stuff! But then his amazing work with orthopaedic medicine could not help but impress us all. Some members knew staff who worked with Al Muderis while at Wollongong Hospital and all reports had been good. So, maybe a written account cannot always transfer a person’s true nature.

Everyone found the cultural history and details of Iraq very interesting and felt they came away understanding a complex and unfamiliar society a little bit better. We were moved into having an interesting conversation on refugees … their circumstances, choices and constraints and also the  options we have in providing a humane and just society of our own.

We love it when a book leads us into such a discussion … if the writing wasn’t brilliant and the author’s personality not exactly to our taste, it matters little. The pay off is a friendly, supportive environment where we can all feel comfortable expressing our thoughts and opinions. And for that, Dr Al Muderis, we thank you. 

The End of Your Life Book Club

During her treatment for cancer, Mary Anne Schwalbe and her son Will spent many hours sitting in waiting rooms together. To pass the time, they would talk about the books they were reading. 

Once, by chance, they read the same book at the same time - and an informal book club of two was born. Through their wide-ranging reading, Will and Mary Anne - and we, their fellow readers - are reminded how books can be comforting, astonishing, and illuminating, changing the way that we feel about and interact with the world around us.

 When does a loving tribute turn into a sentimental dialogue of soppiness? The answer to that, dear reader, is in the hands that hold the book!

Our group was polarised somewhat this month. One member loved this book so much she purchased a copy for her shelf. She found the book discussions between mother and son extremely interesting and their journey endearing, and to a certain degree, reassuring. She loved the fact that Will took time out of his life to transport his ill mother to treatment, help her with a blog and generally support her through a life-ending illness. Doing all this without a hint of regret or selfish regard really is a mother’s greatest wish. We could all be so beholden!

Then there was the opposite side of the pole … these views found the saccharine discourse repetitive, dreary and simply too good and sweet to believe. Rather than feeling empathy for Mary Anne, they felt inadequate (the woman must have been a Saint!) and some felt the author gave into the urge to glorify his mother’s life. Therapy writing? Maybe … but most of our readers could not summon the empathy needed to consent to such a faultless accolade.

Grant it, these comments did not come without a certain amount of guilt … everyone felt they should have had more sympathy for someone fighting cancer so stoically. But then again, isn’t that the writer’s job …to arouse these emotions in us?

It was decided that the book itself was meant to pay homage to the author’s mother and heal a heart that had lost someone special. A nice thought, but something more honest, without the name dropping may have generated just a little more empathy within our group’s more stringent members.