Monthly Archives: March 2017

HOMEGOING by Yaa Gyasi

homegoing by yaa gyasi

I picked this up because it’s set in Ghana and my ex spent a year working there recently so I was interested in learning a little about the country’s relatively recent history. As expected it was painful, scarred with exploitation and full of suffering.

Gyasi starts in an Asante village in the 18th century with two half sisters, Efia and Esi. Effia, abandoned by her mother in the bush at birth is sold by her father to James, a British slave trader, to be his wife, and the couple live at cape Coast Castle. Esi, the valuable daughter of an important chief, is seized by local boys working for the slave traders during a raid on her village and also ends up at the castle – in the dungeons, where she’s held until she can be sold and transported to the Americas. HOMEGOING then uses a series of interconnecting stories that picks up and traces each woman’s family over the ensuing years, finishing at the turn of the 21st century.

The individual stories are powerful in and of themselves, so much so that each time one finished to move on to the next I was disappointed to leave them behind, then soon captivated anew by the next. And the stories combine together to make an incredibly rich, moving and well researched whole.

Each of Effia’s descendants inherits a stone that she was given by her mother and that tangibly connects them with family and history. Esi was given a similar stone but lost it in the filth and squalor of the West African dungeons. Nonetheless she too carries the weight of her past and it is passed to her children, and their children and so on. The stories that make up HOMEGOING aren’t just linked by Esi and Effia, they are bound too by the thread of slavery and how its impact continues to resonate, generation after generation. This thread, inevitably, becomes a little looser as we move through time, but whilst on many levels HOMEGOING is about the redemptive nature of love, it also leaves the reader in no doubt whatsoever that nothing can heal the scars Effia and Esi and their descendants continue to bear.

It’s the compelling and credible characters that really make this book, that give it both dark and light, even if at times the historical span means they have to embody a particular stereotype too restrictively – whether that’s the Harlem jazz musician or the missionary scholar. There’s Quey, James and Effia’s mixed race son, who refuses to follow in his father’s footsteps as a slave trader. Then there’s Esi’s child, Ness, born on a plantation in the American South,  who with husband, Sam, later flees the captivity and slavery they’ve known all their lives in one of the most heart wrenching sections of the novel. Decades later there’s Marcus and Marjorie, who meet in the US, unaware that their ancestors were half sisters and who travel together to Ghana.

Marcus is involved in a research project there and as the pair wander on the beach, he yearns to tell Marjorie how overwhelmed he feels with wanting his work to capture “the feeling of time, of having been a part of something that stretched so far back, was so impossibly large, that it was easy to forget that she, and he, and everyone else existed in it – not apart from it, but inside of it.”  Any flaws in HOMEGOING seem to arise from the fact that Gyasi’s task is just as enormous, especially when her subject matter throbs with such importance. Yet rather than get lost in this vastness of scale, it looks for roots and finds them in the lives of individuals – and it’s that combination which I think makes the novel such an incredible success and HOMEGOING a book I am sure I will read again and again.

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THE LANTERN by Deborah Lawrenson

the lantern by deborah lawrenson

There’s something very captivating about this sensual, mysterious novel. It evokes its Provencal setting through some gorgeous (if at times over wrought) language that appealed to all my senses, and the way it moves between past and present is seamless and bewitching. Yet overall I felt a bit irritated reading THE LANTERN and in large part I suspect that was because it crossed over every so often into the supernatural. Now I love a bit of supernatural or magic or fantasy in a book. I love a lot of it too, as evidenced by my reading the Harry Potter series about once a year. But these things have their place and, although I have no hard and fast rules, I don’t much like it when ghosts, spells, visitors from other planets or whatever arrive unannounced in a book that I am expecting to be the kind of book where such things do not occur. As it turns out, there are rational explanations for all the supernatural events that take place but none of that is revealed until very close to the end and, by that time,  I am afraid the damage had been done.

At the heart of THE LANTERN is a house called Les Genevriers that has been home to immense happiness and terrible heartbreak. When Eve and Dom, in the midst of a whirlwind romance, buy the house and start the long process of rescuing it from neglect they stir up all sorts of secrets about the previous inhabitants. The random objects Dom and Eve find in the overgrown garden and wonder over are precious memories to Benedicte Lincel, who grew up at Les Genevriers at the time of the Second World War and who is struggling to let go of the past. The house and the events that take place there link Eve and Dom’s story with Benedicte’s, until eventually the two collide with the shocking discovery of a body in the grounds of Les Genevriers.

The slightly oppressive nature of Les Genevriers once the summer has passed, feeds suspicions that Eve has been harbouring about Dom, and these feelings are heightened by his repeated disappearances, news reports of missing local teenage girls, and her lover’s brooding, uncommunicative nature. As she tries to find out the story behind Dom’s break up with his wife, Eve becomes more and more unsure about the man she has followed to the South of France. A friendship with a local French woman who knew Dom’s wife prompts even more questions and when Eve discovers that his ex had been researching the history of former owners of Le Genevriers, the house starts to feel more like a prison that a retreat.

Benedicte’s older sister, Marthe, lost her sight as a young girl and as an adult was a world renowned parfumier. Like many of his generation, their brother Pierre decided that his future lay in getting rich as a factory worker rather than the back breaking work of rural life. Benedicte is the one who stayed at home, caring for her ageing mother and trying to keep Le Genevrier in one piece. When handsome Andre turns up one evening looking for board in return for work, Benedicte starts to feel she may have a future ahead of her and the two soon fall in love. But like everyone in this story, Andre has dark secrets and Benedicte’s heart gets broken – first by him, then by her sister, and finally by her prodigal, bitter and violent brother.

I definitely found Benedicte’s the most moving of the two narratives that make up the book – she’s a far stronger and interesting character than modern day Eve who is a bit too self obsessed and drippy for my liking. But it takes a while before her story really gets going and that also added to my frustration with THE LANTERN, as did the obvious but ultimately undeserved comparisons with Daphne DuMaurier’s REBECCA- a far superior book. There’s no doubt Lawrenson can write and the story is well plotted and richly told. She develops some interesting themes, most notably around blindness and passivity. So it’s a shame that I just didn’t get along with THE LANTERN as well as I might. If you do not have the same prejudices, you may well enjoy it – and at least you are forewarned.

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Filed under drama, historical, love story, Uncategorized

DIFFERENT CLASS by Joanne Harris

“There is no risk assessment for Life. And Life is what we are teaching.”

Joanne Harris once again mines the same rich seams of St Oswald’s School for Boys as she’s done in BLUE EYED BOY and GENTLEMAN & PLAYERS. This time it’s 2005 and the school governors have appointed a new crisis management team, who come bearing such dubious gifts as rebranding advice, paperless workplace policies and joint classes with sixth formers from the nearby Mulberry Girls School. Latin master Roy Straitley is up in arms, especially when the identity of the new superhead is revealed as Jonny Harrington, one of his least favourite ex pupils and who is now “double-dipped in a toxic brew of arrogance and sanctity.”

Straitley’s narrative is interspersed with one from the 1980s, when the school was rocked by a scandal involving his close friend, English teacher Richard Clarke. As each layer unfolds we learn about a web of disturbing secrets. Unifying past and present is the question of reputation – how far we might go to protect it, what it’s based on, whether it’s deserved and how much it shapes how we respond to people or events.

Harris’ trademark ability to mix unreliable voices and dark humour with a glorious grasp of human nature is evident throughout. So too is her alertness to hypocrisy and apparent admiration for values such as loyalty and friendship. And, as in previous St Oswald’s novels, she displays her ongoing fascination with class, pitting the grammar school boys against those from the Sunnybank Estate where “there’s a whole language of spitting…It’s got its own grammar, and everything.”

I especially enjoyed the tension between the old school and would be modernisers at St Oswald’s – and Harris’ sympathy for the way things have always been done, for the compassionate neglect that seems under attack. “In my experience, pastoral care and paperwork exist in inverse proportion to each other, like common sense and training” declares Straitley, who rebels against the use of email, health and safety, the fast tracking of his younger colleagues up the career ladder and all advice about smoking less, exercising more and laying off the saturated fat. DIFFERENT CLASS allows Straitley to celebrate a number of small victories – reminders that not all progress is necessarily better than the past it replaces. His days are numbered though and Harris clearly thinks that’s a tragedy, for all he’s gently mocked.

A seductive novel, adorned with blackmail, murder, licquorice all sorts, homophobia and chalk dust, DIFFERENT CLASS plays out cleverly like the game of chess to which Harris herself deliberately invites comparisons. As a whole though it feels less like a homage to life as a series of winning moves to gain the upper hand,  and more as celebration of turning up and taking part. 

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 HEROES OF THE FRONTIER by Dave Eggers

This is not a patch on Dave Eggers other novels and particularly not THE CIRCLE. It tells the story of a dentist called Josie who runs to Alaska and away from a law suit, guilt over a dead soldier and the end of he marriage. Her two children Ana and Paul in tow, she hires an campervan and goes in search of a simpler life “centred around work and trees and sky”.

It’s herself she really hopes to escape though and, as the three lurch from one disappointment to the next, I found Josie’s lack of self awareness deeply irritating, as I did her flightiness, self pity and general all round flakiness. Torn between trying to appreciate the present moment and a tendency towards thinking the grass is always greener on the other side, Josie’s choices left me expecting all kinds of drama like her family being engulfed by a forest fire or her kids being abducted. Nothing happened though and Eggers seems to be suggesting there’s no drama in life other than that which me make ourselves.

I think the book is supposed to be uplifting but lines such as “Love and goodness was an ice cream cone and treachery was a tank” didn’t do it for me. Despite the occasional moment of light abd insight, such as a riff on the source of parents’ right to pay for schooling that’s provided for free, this book left me as cold as an Alaskan winter.

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