153 Books
See allA really beautiful book, it takes us on a tour through the history of London by way of the objects found on the Thames foreshore, unearthing fascinating little stories about everyone from royals to paupers. Truly enchanting, it gives a sense of the sometimes meditative sometimes exciting and always unexpected nature of mudlarking, and also reveals the unique history and character of each different location along the river. While there is a lot of the author's own personal experience laid out in the book, it never feels self indulgent or affected, there's a truth and honesty to the book that's very endearing. I've read books by others where I wished the author would get out of the way of the story and disappear into the background, but this author's presence was never intrusive and just naturally blended into the story of the river. In terms of genre, the author has found a special sweet spot here, not trying to be a history book or forcing anything, but just letting the story of each found object trickle through the pages and settle where it wants to. I really enjoyed it :)
I enjoyed this. It felt like an original world-setting, it was nice to encounter a fantasy world that didn't lean on well established tropes. I want to learn more about the world, so I'll probably read the other 2 books at some point. The story was quite... limited? Felt like a short story more than a full novel. Not that it felt like it was dragged out, but just that it was a very simple plot.
But that makes way for good themes, setting, and the development of the main character. LeGuin packs in a sense of time passing and emotional maturing to this short novel. There's a tender and realistic demonstration of what loss of hitherto-unshakable faith is like, and mixed into that a critique of dogma and religion as well. It's nice to see deeper themes like this in YA fiction.
As well as being, to a lesser extent, a journey of events, people, and places, it's also an emotional journey from darkness into light, with Tenar ending up a very different person at the end; less sure of herself, wounded by her past, but free and more whole. One thing I really love to see is complex, flawed characters, and Tenar feels real and alive in this book. It's my first time reading LeGuin, but I can tell already they have a way of capturing the human spirit, and I look forward to exploring more of their work.
I've been wanting to re-read this for years and the time finally felt right this October. I hesitate to say that Gaiman ‘builds' a compelling world for that phrase seems to imply some of the scaffolding is visible. It's not. The world Gaiman describes exists so wholly and so well painted that you never once think of it as something constructed but just, a place that is. It's a treat to be allowed a glimpse into it all. The story itself is actually a lot simpler than I remember, allowing the reader to drink in the world and characters and bob along with the story without having to concentrate too hard. Which is fine, but compared with the richness of the world, the plot itself does feel a little secondary. 5/5 for world, 5/5 for language, 4/5 for characters and 4/5 for plot, that's all I'm saying. Still an absolutely wonderful book. Oh, and Richard is a boring character, I feel the book would have been better without him and just wholly about London Below. I get that he has a function as muse and narrator and reflector of audience's perspective, but bleh he's just really naff.
Almost gave up on this. The first half was just a gushing love letter to Charles Ephrussi, a fabulously wealthy ‘spare son' of a banking dynasty with seemingly nothing to do but socialise and provide a source of name-dropping to a future biographer. He knew Renoir! And the Empress! Proust references him! Thrilling stuff.
The recounting of the netsuke's story begins badly too. A brief acknowledgement that they're actually pillaged from Japan and then they take on their own lives - as a conglomerate whole bought en-masse by Charles because Japan was ‘in', and then seemingly left in a vitrine (get used to that word) as a piece of decoration. Eugh.
When they arrive as a wedding gift in Vienna things get a little more interesting, though the fact that Viktor (39) “waited until she was 17 and then proposed [to a girl he'd known since her childhood]” is not so much glossed over as outright ignored. However, the story of what happens in Vienna with the continued rise of antisemitism culminating in the annexation of Austria by the nazis, is interesting and eye-opening. The injustice of the forfeiture of the family fortune and assets is raw and real.
After the Vienna chapter there's a little wrapping-up of the netsuke's return to the family, which is sweet but I felt Anna should have been the real star of the book, her story seemed much more interesting, a life of servitude leading up to one quiet, brave, act of resistance and loyalty. But she only gets a single, apologetic, chapter in which the author admits he doesn't really know anything about her. If only he'd pursued her history with the same zeal as he followed up the whereabouts of every painting Charles ever touched.
The netsuke's return to Japan, I feel, is a return in name only. Yes they are in the country, no they are not returned to the country. The author strongly feels that objects are bought and sold and this is how things are. I think the people who snapped up the Ephrussi's belongings when the Nazis forced them to sell probably feel the same way.
A very interesting bit of background / scene-setting for The Wooden Horse, but it doesn't really come together as a story in its own right. For that reason it's not quite worthy of being called a prequel - more an extended introduction perhaps? Still, it does give valuable insight into the daily life of POWs and if you're a fan of The Wooden Horse then it's essential reading that will provide a deeper understanding of the context of that escape. One thing I found particularly good was the recognition that other prisoners (in this case the Russians) had a much tougher time than the British POWs. It gives the story a maturity that's welcome and sobering. Ditto the focus on the POW with mental health problems, again showing us that POW life that wasn't all boy-scoutish ingenuity in the face of the enemy. If Williams' goals were to provide context for the events at Stalag Luft III and to pitch the tone with a little more gravity, I think he achieved them admirably.