The Discovery of Witches (All Souls #1) - Deborah Harkness

"Deep in the stacks of Oxford's Bodleian Library, young scholar Diana
Bishop unwittingly calls up a bewitched alchemical manuscript in the course of her research. Descended from an old and distinguished line of witches, Diana wants nothing to do with sorcery; so after a furtive glance and a few notes, she banishes the book to the stacks. But her discovery sets a fantastical underworld stirring, and a horde of daemons, witches, and vampires soon descends upon the library. Diana has stumbled upon a coveted treasure lost for centuries-and she is the only creature who can break its spell."

This book genuinely put me into a reading slump. I really tried to persevere, as the plot hooks of what was in the manuscript and what happened to Diana's parents kept me engaged. However, I...I just couldn't anymore and actually had to put it down. Harkness's glacial pacing and repetitive/obsolete descriptions where enough for me to start clocking out. The descriptions of multiple wines, intimate knowledge of Diana's exercise routine and a Wattpad like fascination while wardrobe descriptions padded this book far beyond it's warranted length. I am no enemy to atmosphere, slow pacing or heavy descriptions. I have read my fair share of 19th century novels to fine with that. But none of this description actually does anything, it serves little to no narrative purpose. 

What irritated me the most, however, was Harkness's characterisation. At first, I thought that this book was going to be an intelligent Twilight for grown-ups. The female lead is Diana, is a highly intelligent woman and well respected in her field. She’s also the daughter of two powerful witches who were murdered when she was seven years old. The main character wasn't helpless, thought for herself, didn't immediately adore her bloodsucking, murderous stalker or find his abusive behaviour endearing, and didn't seem interested in losing her entire identity to the first good-looking guy who wanted to eat her. A rebuttal of Twilight, almost.

But no. Despite Diana's increasing Mary Sue-ishness as she develops every witch ability ever known, she must constantly be rescued and protected by Edward, er, Matthew.

Matthew, meanwhile, is a complete jackass. (Excuse my French) Trotting out the obnoxious "pack mentality" trope so often used in "paranormal romance" (a genre that really, really needs to be marked better so that those of us looking for "urban fantasy" won't be blindsided every damn time), Matthew is neatly absolved from all responsibility for his sexist insistence that Diana obey him as her husband and for his volatile, potentially murderous temper if and when she doesn't comply. Who doesn't want a hyper controlling boyfriend that keeps a huge amount of secrets, keeps important information away from you, uses his temper to make you obedient and says, “I might not be able to control myself if you step away” after a first kiss. Diana is the otherwise highly intelligent woman who acts like a child whenever she’s in his presence. She has to be bullied and bated into using her powers, and saved time and time again by Matthew. Despite Matthew’s continual marvelling about how powerful and strong she is, her strength is barely in evidence.

It is really unfortunate. I am a sucker for academic settings (having lived in Oxford myself), urban fantasy and the general aesthetic of this book was wonderful. Large French castles, ancient libraries, large dysfunctional vampire families (wish there was more of that), horse riding. All right up my alley, with the potential to be something really amazing. A fusion of urban fantasy and dark academia. Unfortunately Harkness's characters and pacing completely threw me off. 

Age Rating 16+. Violence, sex, threat, torture (very tame though.)

The Outsider - Albert Camus

"Meursault will not pretend. After the death of his mother, everyone
is shocked when he shows no sadness. And when he commits a random act of violence in Algiers, society is baffled. Why would this seemingly law-abiding bachelor do such a thing? And why does he show no remorse even when it could save his life? His refusal to satisfy the feelings of others only increases his guilt in the eyes of the law. Soon Meursault discovers that he is being tried not simply for his crime, but for his lack of emotion - a reaction that condemns him for being an outsider. For Meursault, this is an insult to his reason and a betrayal of his hopes; for Camus it encapsulates the absurdity of life."

I think the little book Gods must really be liking me recently. I have been reading amazingly profound book after book. 

This was another book that knocked me sideways (though, I must say, not to the same extent as say Giovanni's Room.) 

It was a very interesting read. The idea that someone is tried for not reacting in a conventional manner sits very close to home as someone who has Asperger's and thus doesn't react conventionally myself. However, I think that the people who argue that Meursault isn't a bad person, just someone unconventional, different, being unfairly persecuted by a out of date traditionalist society, must not have read the same book I did. Meursault is undoubtedly a bad person. Even if I do not feel nor express emotions the same way as "normal" people, it doesn't mean that sitting by while a pimp beats his girlfriend, a man abuses his dog, or killing a man in cold blood are acceptable things to do. 

I am unsure of what Camus was trying to express ideologically through this book. That all morality is just a social construct and thus false and meaningless? That people are more judged for being unconventional then they are for their actual crimes? The life in itself is inherently meaningless and thus your actions hold no meaning?

One of the main questions that was raised in the book was, what truly defines humanity or makes someone human? During Meursault's trial, he is constantly accused of not showing remorse and therefore as being cold and inhuman. He is most definitely human though, just detached. This raises the question of whether one should be expected to exhibit certain characteristics in certain situations to "keep their humanity". It also raises the question of whether much of our emotion is created by ourselves or the expectations of others to exhibit certain emotions in a given situation. The book is also an indictment on people's efforts to dictate other people's lives. We are constantly told what is right and as a means to justify our own sense of "what it means to be human." As someone who, on many occasions, has been accused of being cold, inhuman, even psychotic, merely for not displaying emotions in the expected way, this was a wonderful question to be mulled over. It also prompted me to be more honest myself. Why should I have to lie, as Meursault refuses to do, about what I do or do not feel.  

Camus's writing was also wonderful. Meursault lives very much "in" his body, he experiences the world through his senses rather than his emotions. This creates a brilliantly evocative, unique and absorbing tonal atmosphere. Camus's choice to have all the settings drenched in sun heightened the raw sensual savagery, of humanity being brutally illuminated. 

A thoroughly interesting book full of a complex and ambiguous philosophical messages, thoroughly open to interpretation and analysis. Age Rating 16+ Sex, murder, abuse, both domestic and animal. 

The House in Paris - Elizabeth Bowen

"When eleven-year-old Henrietta arrives at the Fishers’ well-
appointed house in Paris, she is prepared to spend her day between trains looked after by an old friend of her grandmother’s. Little does Henrietta know what fascinations the Fisher house itself contains–along with secrets that have the potential to topple a marriage and redeem the life of a peculiar young boy. By the time Henrietta leaves the house that evening, she is in possession of the kind of grave knowledge that is usually reserved only for adults."

I was unsure of what to expect with this book, as I picked it up merely because of an intriguing blurb and an aesthetically pleasing cover. What I found inside was a deeply unusual, constrained, tense yet stunningly beautiful work. This book haunts you. 

Some have said that the main characters, the 11 year old Henrietta and the 9 year Leopold, don't act like real children. I have to beg to differ. The rigid mistrust and hierarchy is very true to the experience of the inner lives of children. (Or at least to my experience of childhood.) Children don't fully understand that they are children, thus their emotions and inner lives are by no means neutered by that fact. 

The plot is relatively simple, a sad romantic entanglement between a group of friends. It's simplicity is what makes it brilliant, it allows Bowen the time and space to really explore the emotions, tensions and atmosphere of these characters. What most struck me was Bowen's writing style. Bowen’s sensibility is heightened to the pitch of a lonely woman in a big house who hears what sounds like an intruder downstairs in the middle of the night. Inanimate objects become animated and not only contribute to the tension of every passing moment but define it. The way light falls or dwindles becomes a coded text of prophecy. It took me a while to get into the rhythm of the book, at once feeling melodiously slow and tensely frenetic. Bowen's primary story-telling device is dialogue, dialogue filled with hidden meaning delivered in staccato. This tempo gets even more frenetic when Bowen writes in monologue, telling a person's thoughts. Bowen covers a range of themes in a relatively short book: the creation of identity, time, secrets and lies, sexuality and sensuality, the constraints of society, death, the relationship between mothers and their children.

The most fascinating character to me was definitely Madame Fisher, the controlling and menacing matriarch. Her ever-watching presence that consumes the house with a creeping ennui. 

A story of passion and heartbreak, of sexual power and destruction - without ever being voyeuristic, it is deeply erotic. Leopold is the living personification of passion spent and lost, and his future, standing at the station in the end, is just as open as his mother's was before her path was chosen. This novel spins an intricate and horrifying atmosphere, that feels at once deeply peaceful and deeply unnerving. A book that is less enjoyed but felt. I would highly recommend.

Age Rating 16+ Adult themes and a unique writing style that might need a slightly higher comprehension to understand/appreciate. 

Giovanni's Room - James Baldwin

"In a 1950s Paris swarming with expatriates and characterized by
dangerous liaisons and hidden violence, an American finds himself unable to repress his impulses, despite his determination to live the conventional life he envisions for himself. After meeting and proposing to a young woman, he falls into a lengthy affair with an Italian bartender and is confounded and tortured by his sexual identity as he oscillates between the two."

I picked this book up on a whim at the library. I had no idea what it was about. I had never heard of it before, and I must be honest, I didn't put the name James Baldwin together with the Civil Rights Activist I was taught about in school. So, I had no idea I was about to read one of best book I have yet read. 

This book unravelled me completely. I felt like my whole body was strung out by the sheer, inexorable weight of this story. During reading, I often found myself having to close the book and just process. Giovanni's Room is one of the rawest, most wounding and open-chested portraits of what it is like to burn with the fires of self-loathing as a result of internalized hate, and to wrestle, every day, from the webbing of a shame that stains, indelibly, yourself and everything you love. 

There is viciousness, lust, loneliness, sensuality, deception, sorrow, tenderness, despair, and ultimately tragedy that makes this book easily one of the top 100 best books I’ve ever read. Every reader will find something of themselves in this book, maybe not the part of themselves that they want to hold up to the mirror, but certainly a fragment, disdainful in nature or worthy of pity, that can not be denied.

It is classified as a "gay book." I think that is a overly simplified grouping, it is a book about doomed love. I do not think that you have to be queer to enjoy or relate to this book. You must only have felt out of place, a stranger in a strange land, to have looked at yourself in the mirror and not liked what you saw. To have felt the deep well of loneliness and meaningless desperation that comes with living as a human. Baldwin explores and expresses the torments of humanity and love, through his achingly beautiful prose that often left me breathless. David is profoundly selfish, and evasive to the attention he receives. He paradoxically wants love but cannot bear the responsibilities that go with it. He is an unlikable man, yet you cannot help but emote with him. You cannot help but feel all of his pain and regret and loathing. 

Truly a haunting read, one that will stay with you long after you have finished it. My review cannot do it justice, I merely urge you to read it. 

Age Rating 16+. An insinuations of rape, murder, execution and prostitution but nothing overt. 

Candide - Voltaire

"Candide is the story of a gentle man who, though pummeled and slapped in every direction by fate, clings desperately to the belief that he lives in "the best of all possible worlds." On the surface a witty, bantering tale, this eighteenth-century classic is actually a savage, satiric thrust at the philosophical optimism that proclaims that all disaster and human suffering is part of a benevolent cosmic plan. Fast, funny, often outrageous, the French philosopher's immortal narrative takes Candide around the world to discover that -- contrary to the teachings of his distinguished tutor Dr. Pangloss -- all is not always for the best."

I wasn't quite sure what I was getting into when I picked up this book, with little understanding of Voltaire's philosophy or the plot of Candide. So you can imagine my surprise at the contents of this wonderful and horrifying little satire which might shape up to be one of my favourite books. 

Voltaire's novel introduces the reader to Candide, a wide-eyed, calm and amusingly bland young gentleman who resides at Castle Westphalia and who believes in the philosophy that "everything in the world is for the best." One of the first scenes is filled with two emotional opposites for Candide who first gets to kiss his love, Cunegonde behind a screen, only to then be kicked out of the castle, literally, by the Baron of Thunder-ten-Tronckh.

Here begins Candide's incredible, fantastical adventure which takes him all over the globe with his mind always believing in "the folly of optimism". Moving on from being a soldier in the Bulgarian army to being shipwrecked, being involved with the aftermath of an earthquake, discovering then leaving the mythical El Dorado, to being robbed and swindled more times than seems fair - our hero has a lot of bad luck. One of the overarching issues of this narrative is to present that it isn't just Candide that bad things happen to and that the world is just pretty damn horrible. Tragic things happen to all our main characters including philosopher Dr. Pangloss, Candide's love Cunegonde, and a nice old lady who saved Candide from certain death. The tale is humorously and satirically presented in short, sharp chapters by Voltaire. Most descriptions of doom and degradation are presented in a highly comic fashion which not only serves to allow the reader to continue reading with less emotional scarring but also highlights the stupidity/horror of optimism and a "positive outlook" in these kinds of situations. Though somehow there where scenes that where just so horrific yet comically absurd that I couldn't help but laugh. 

The heartlessness, negativity, and cold-heartedness of humans is a frequent aura and undertone throughout. The novel features all sorts of nastiness such as rape, murder, torture, prostitution, robbery, and slavery among other nastiness and nonsense. 

The whole cast is, strangely, relatable and likable with each being a symbolic caricature of some aspect of ourselves. Some of the times they meet up with friends spontaneously all over the world is amazingly far fetched and draw attention to the satirical character of the story, allowing the characters to compare experiences, hardships, and evolving outlooks. Two of the main characters are the optimistic philosopher Dr. Pangloss and ultimately pessimistic scholar and travel companion of Candide's, Martin. The juxtaposition here is very interesting, with a "black and white"  of these two view points.

I loved the way that the book ends. I wont spoil it too much, but it was just perfect. The group of lost souls finding a unity in tending and being surrounded by nature and enjoying their own creative hobbies. The difference of outlook being forgotten in the coming together to live as good a life as they are going to get. The ending was surprisingly hopeful, at least to me, for such a horrifying story. You will not be able to avoid suffering as it is a part of life and complete optimism is a stupid outlook with so much pain in the world, however you can still find a life where you can, if not overcome you trauma, at least live with it. 

The story reminded me somewhat of the Journey of Buddha before he becomes the Buddha where the naïve and sheltered Indian Prince first ventures out and encounters all of the suffering in the world. I don't know whether this was intentional on Voltaire's part but it was an interesting thing to note. 

Age Rating 18+. As stated above this book contains every level of awfulness possible and doesn't shy away from it. 

Holy Fools - Joanne Harris

"In the year 1605, a young widow, pregnant and alone, seeks sanctuary
at the small Abbey of Sainte Marie-de-la-mer on the island of Noirs Moustiers off the Brittany coast. After the birth of her daughter, she takes up the veil, and a new name, Soeur Auguste. But the peace she has found in remote isolation is shattered five years later by the events that follow the death of her kind benefactress, the Reverend Mother.

When a new abbess -- the daughter of a corrupt noble family elevated by the murder of King Henri IV -- arrives at Sainte Marie-de-la-mer, she does not arrive alone. With her is her personal confessor and spiritual guide, Père Colombin. A man Soeur Auguste, with secrets of her own, knows all too well and the one man she fears more than any other."

A gorgeous, compelling story set in mediaeval France, Holy Fools has all the ingredients I love in Joanne Harris’s books. There’s a strong, complex heroine with pagan inclinations, a flamboyant villains, a gothic setting, a rich luscious atmosphere and a lot of less than comfortable reflections on the human condition. Harris has a very warts and all approach to portraying people. She doesn’t tend to do clear lines between the wholly good and the wholly bad, and I love this about her work.

First thing first, I adored the overall feel of this books. It's sets, atmosphere, themes and general aesthetic was wonderful. It truly felt unique and rich, something that could easily be translated into a beautiful movie. 

One of the themes running through this novel is that way in which people are often complicit in their own oppression. In trying to please the oppressor, and trying to avoid punishment, we give other names to the witch hunter. We accuse someone else to take attention from ourselves. So often what is called for in oppressive scenarios is a banding together to fight off the tyrant. If there’s one tyrant and many people being mistreated, weight of numbers should fix it, but often it doesn’t. Instead, in trying to protect ourselves, we uphold evil systems and support those who abuse us. It was also a fabulously interesting exploration of the fusion of religious mania, trauma, female repression, redirected sexual need and guilt complexes. 

However, I did have a few problems with this book. First of all was a relationship between Juliette (Soeur Auguste) and her daughter fell flat. The daughter is less an actual person then a plot device, which, unfortunately, completely emotionally undercuts the weight of the story. I also found the relationship between Juliette and Le Merle deeply frustrating. (SPOILERS) For a book supposedly so strongly about female empowerment, strength and sisterhood I found the ending thematically confusing. Le Merle has out right emotionally and physically abused Juliette, once even pimping her out without her consent leading to her being raped. I understand having a dark emotional connection, a sort of deep understanding of each other's darkness, and I truly love these relationships being explored. But I don't think it was in character for Juliette to consent to be with Le Merle, nor should she. While she might have had a special bond with him, this doesn't mean that it would be healthy for them to be anywhere near to each other. 

Age Rating 15+. Some sexual elements but only alluded to really. Small acts of violence. Death, suicide, religious mania and forced exorcism. 

The Hare with the Amber Eyes - Edmund de Waal

"The Ephrussis were a grand banking family, as rich and respected as

the Rothschilds, who “burned like a comet” in nineteenth-century Paris and Vienna society. Yet by the end of World War II, almost the only thing remaining of their vast empire was a collection of 264 wood and ivory carvings, none of them larger than a matchbox.

The renowned ceramicist Edmund de Waal became the fifth generation to inherit this small and exquisite collection of netsuke. Entranced by their beauty and mystery, he determined to trace the story of his family through the story of the collection.

In The Hare with Amber Eyes, Edmund de Waal unfolds the story of a remarkable family and a tumultuous century. Sweeping yet intimate, it is a highly original meditation on art, history, and family, as elegant and precise as the netsuke themselves."

This is a stunningly written book. A keen sense of aesthetics and beauty pervades the pages. de Waal is a fine writer, bringing an artist’s sensibility to this other medium: a meticulous attention to the detail of language, its rhythms and its evocative potential. Read the book for its exhaustive descriptions of interiors, whether bel époque Paris or Wiener Werkstatt Vienna; for its evocations of historical moments like fin de siecle France, or Austria at the time of its annexation by Hitler and his Nazis, or immediately post-war, bombed-out Tokyo; or for its compassionate portrayal of flawed and fascinating human characters. De Waal's family history is fascinating and I was particularly interested in the link to Proust, Monet and Great Great Uncle Charles being the model for Swann, I found myself googling certain artworks to spot the family members. I loved this book from the way that is pulled you into these spaces, and made you feel the grandeur of the past. 

However I must say, there were a few things that frustrated me. A wronged sense of entitlement pervades much of the book. The accumulation of wealth is seldom a neutral thing; especially in a family of bankers. A lot of energy/ time goes into describing how the family lost most of its wealth under the Nazis (the description of the Kristallnacht mob entering the Ephrussi building and ransacking the furniture is blood-curdling). I did feel for the family, to watch your family home ripped apart and your belongings forcefully packed up and sent away. The pages describing the packing up of the father, Viktor's library, were heart breaking. However, no moral judgment is passed on how the Ephrussi had been spending their money until then, nor is the reader left any clearer as to how the Ephrussi's fortune was amassed so quickly in a few short decades only. I would have been interested in some detail about the lives of those who made them and the conditions in which they were made; and perhaps some sense of the contrast of fabulous wealth with society around them. I also felt a little uncomfortable that the servants were just referred to by their first names, could they really not find out their surnames?

The one character I genuinely would loved to have learned more about was de Waal's grandmother, Elisabeth. At a time when women were tied to the house, Elisabeth broke all glass ceilings and became a lawyer. She was one of the first women to enter the University of Vienna. Her accomplishments flare up time and again in the book and I enjoyed those bits. However, she did not play a major part in the narrative.

The book is supposed to be about the journey of the netsuke that Edmund de Waal inherited from his family. These netsuke are beautiful works of art plundered from a Japan reeling from civil war by Europeans who bought up everything cheap, and then called it their own. In a story touted as a book about objects so intrinsically Japanese there is one Japanese person in this entire book. de Waal never tries to find anything about the netsukes before they came into his families possession. It felt painfully euro-centric. Just a little bit of exploration of where these netsuke originally came from would have been appreciated. 

I understand that Japonisme was a trend and I don't expect incredibly wealthy Charles Ephrussi to give a damn about the Japanese, however de Waal talks about his own uncle buying more treasured artefacts from the impoverished Japanese at a throwaway price after the Second World War. How shameless can you possibly get? Weren't your family members just subject to the same humiliation by the Nazi's? Why would you do that to others? At least, pay the right price for what you basically stole! And you dare to write a book about your family's avarice?!

I would definitely suggest this book to anyone who is interested in art, history and beautiful things. It really was a feast for the senses. Charting history and changing social times through one family is a brilliant way of making history feel alive. I thought that was inspired. Just be aware of the drawbacks to the book. 

Age Rating 13+. Nothing untoward. 

The Historian - Elisabeth Kostova

"To you, perceptive reader, I bequeath my history....Late one night,

exploring her father's library, a young woman finds an ancient book and a cache of yellowing letters. The letters are all addressed to "My dear and unfortunate successor," and they plunge her into a world she never dreamed of, a labyrinth where the secrets of her father's past and her mother's mysterious fate connect to all inconceivable evil hidden in the depths of history.

The letters provide links to one of the darkest powers that humanity has ever known and to a centuries-long quest to find the source of that darkness and wipe it out. It is a quest for the truth about Vlad the Impaler, the medieval ruler whose barbarous reign formed the basis of the legend of Dracula. Generations of historians have risked their reputations, their sanity, and even their lives to learn the truth about Vlad the Impaler and Dracula. Now one young woman must decide whether to take up this quest herself--to follow her father in a hunt that nearly brought him to ruin years ago, when he was a vibrant young scholar and her mother was still alive."

Kostova writes The Historian in epistolary form, primarily through letters from a father historian to a daughter (presumably) historian. The greater part of the book, however, focused not on this father-daughter team’s desperate search  for Dracula, but on the obscure history of Vlad Tepes, the historical figure who inspired the legend of Dracula, and on the geography of Romania, Bulgaria, and Turkey during the Cold War. If the Travel Channel™ was ever looking for someone to host Istanbul on a Budget 1980 or Passport to Monasteries Behind the Iron Curtain, Kostova would be their woman. Whether the history and geography is true or not, the sheer volume of trivia padding this book and the work it had to have taken to put it all together is confounding. 

To add to the dullness, the way that this books plot unfurls in mainly in the form of letter. Unbelievably detailed letters! Now I have read a number of great books that use the format of letter writing to convey the plot. But this? Ridiculous. Not only are these letters insanely long, but they are insanely detailed as well, creating yet another reason why the book and the characters are completely unbelievable. Nobody writes a letter like this, no one. If that's how the author wanted to write this, why did she do the letter thing at all? 

Even with the impressive research, this story lacks any punch. Dracula would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for those pesky historians! Dracula and his henchman, the “evil librarian,”, I kid you not,  don’t plague society or cause panic or murder people in large quantities to drink their blood. Rather, they make appearances in goofy disguises in libraries and cafes to give books and other clues to especially promising young historians, inspiring the recipients to begin insatiable quests to find out more about this Dracula fellow. Then, Dracula inevitably shows up again to slap people around a little, so that the historians will be too afraid to continue their research. Once, after giving a historian a book to start him on his vampire studies, Dracula disguises himself as “a stranger” and buys that historian a drink called, “whimsically, amnesia.” Bet you can’t guess what that does - all that research down the tubes! Stop the mind games, Dracula! Not to be deterred by Dracula’s or the Evil Librarian’s threats, the historians continue to stalk their prey until the reader would pity Dracula (if he weren’t annoying), because he is ultimately only trying to build a book collection and a gang of faithful research assistants.

Psychological conflict adds complexity to most vampire stories, as in Bram Stoker’s Dracula, when Mina, formerly a protagonist, becomes bloodthirsty. Thirst is the most basic human experience, and all vampires started as humans. Theoretically, thirst (or, more broadly, desire) could create evil in anyone; and, therefore, of all monsters we most easily identify with are vampires. In The Historian, however, I am left with the impression that if those historians left poor Dracula alone, he would have just kept happily collecting books. It was ultimately the obsessive research and study, not Dracula himself, that took the historians away from their loved ones and almost destroyed them.

Finally, the ending. If you value your sanity, do not, I repeat DO NOT finish this book. Because if you are sane, you will get to the ending and go, 'What? What?? Are you f-n kidding me?? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!' No joke. The ending, especially after 600 pages, has got to be the biggest let down of any major novel in recent years. I won't spoil it here (however badly I want to vent about it), but I swear to you: it will cause you physical agony when you read it.

The only upside to this book are the stunning locations. Through the book your trip around Italy, France, Istanbul, England and Eastern Europe. All richly described and so wonderfully atmospheric. If you like the Dark Academia Aesthetic then you will enjoy that aspect of the book, which was to be honest, the only thing that kept me reading. 

Age Rating 13+. Nothing grizzly or dramatic. The reason for the age rating is the dullness of the writing which I wouldn't punish a child with. 

Madame Bovary of The Suburbs - Sophie Divery

"She has everything; doting parents; a loving husband; all the comforts that the middle class have grown accustomed to. But she's bored. She takes up all sorts of hobbies to try to make something happen in her life, but no matter what she does, nothing truly satisfies her, because deep down, she feels flat. Empty. Until she meets Phillippe...In Madame Bovary of the Suburbs, Sophie Divry dramatizes the philosophical conflict between freedom and comfort that marks women's lives in a materialistic world."

This book has really stuck with me and is not easy to forget. Everyone wants to believe that life will turn out well. We are something unique and beautiful and our life's path will reflect that. We will accomplish something amazing. People will remember us after we are gone. We will eventually find a moment of complete contentment and satisfaction. But what if, like all to often, we are nothing out of the ordinary, accomplish nothing and feel nothing.  

The book had an extremely unusual and unique narrative style which at first I wasn't sure I was going to get on with. It employs a second person narrative which I'm not entirely sure I've come across before but Divry uses it so effectively that it just fits the story beautifully. It almost seems to speak to the reader and I think this works well with the idea that the main character, M.A. shares a fate which could belong to any one of us. Her story is universal.

Never properly named, M.A. is seen growing from childhood into adulthood and traversing the various stages of life's well trodden path. She grows up longing to move away from her parents and her childhood home and embark upon a new adventure. She goes to university, she has her first boyfriend, she marries, has children and does everything that is expected of her, even while she wishes for something more. Something which she can't quite name and always seems to be just out of her reach. The circle of life is effectively portrayed as she grows older and morphs into the role that her parents once had.

Distinctly French in tone and conception, this is quirky and charming, bleak and deadly all at once.  The cool narrative voice skewers her subject, an unnamed woman called just M.A. (Emma), but equally addresses us as the reader, forcing an examination of our own lives. However much we might consider ourselves different from M.A., there are places where we, surely, recognise ourselves.

There are few passages where Divry explains mundane things such as driving or washing machines as if the reader was an alien from another planet. She also occasionally gives us an in-depth look at a minor and inconsequential character. It creates a feeling of awe and disassociation. That something or someone that means nothing to you is important in its own right and is the star in their own show. 

Like Flaubert's Emma Bovary, M.A. is on a search for fulfilment which is never quite reached - but whereas Flaubert's heroine in entrapped by bourgeois conceptions of gender and petty economics, M.A., in theory, has the social and cultural freedom to pursue her own goals... only to find herself following Emma's footsteps more closely than she expected. With personal happiness always dependent on something in the future or on someone else - leaving home, a good degree, falling in love, children, the perfect dinner party, a passionate love affair - M.A. moves through life always bored, always searching.

Deceptively easy to read, this is also both philosophical and deeply existentially depressing. Would definitely recommend. 

Age Rating 15+ Some quite graphic sex scenes and the content needs a more mature mind to fully appreciate the themes. 

Perfume: The story of a murderer - Patrick Suskind

"In the slums of eighteenth-century France, the infant Jean-Baptiste Grenouille is born with one sublime gift—an absolute sense of smell. As a boy, he lives to decipher the odors of Paris, and apprentices himself to a prominent perfumer who teaches him the ancient art of mixing precious oils and herbs. But Grenouille's genius is such that he is not satisfied to stop there, and he becomes obsessed with capturing the smells of objects such as brass doorknobs and fresh-cut wood. Then one day he catches a hint of a scent that will drive him on an ever-more-terrifying quest to create the "ultimate perfume"—the scent of a beautiful young virgin. Told with dazzling narrative brilliance, Perfume is a hauntingly powerful tale of murder and sensual depravity."

Hi Everyone, I am sorry I didn't post anything last month but there was a little bit of a family emergency and I had to fly back home, where I didn't have the time or internet to write and post anything. So the next few reviews are from last month as well. 

This book is set in the mid-1700's France and centres around a horrid man who has no redeeming qualities other than the fact that he has likely the most perfect sense of smell in the history of mankind. But he uses this skill for selfish and evil purposes and we get to come along for the story of his life - if you could call it that.

The premise of the story seemed interesting enough, and of course the title tells us that there is going to be murder so that always makes for interesting reading. But I just found it to be extremely boring and tiresome.
The author obviously did his research relating to all things perfume - the methods involved in it's creation - both chemically and artistically - and the importance of it's purpose in that point in history. But he goes overboard with list after exhaustive list of ingredients or steps within a process or varieties to be found. He can't help but describe every minute detail, not just of perfume, but of the landscape or the people. I love descriptive writing - I truly do - but I do also like to have an exciting plot to keep me involved. By the time he finished describing a scene I forgot why we were there.

I found that a book that put so much emphasis on the sensual aspect of itself in the blurb really let me down. Until the second last scene of the book there really isn't anything untoward. Grenouille's attraction to the women is purely olfactory and his perversion is hardly touched on or explored.  

Furthermore, it takes forever to reach the part of the book where Jean-Baptiste actually starts to murder people because there’s a huge, useless portion of the book dedicated to 10 years of his life when he goes into hiding in a mountain. Also, there is no climax, unless you count the execution/orgy scene which I thought was the stupidest scene ever. 

I did enjoy the feeling of repulsion and disgust with humanity that was convayed. I love books that get under your skin. The last scene was also stellar. Horrific, grotesque yet strangely fitting. 

Overall not worth the hype. Age restriction 14+. Has some adult themes and scenes.