traceculture's reviews
382 reviews

The problem with books this good, is that it makes all the others look shite!
Despite being set against the backdrop of the 2nd world war, it’s horrors, evils and disturbing circumstances, I was naive to the warm light I couldn’t see gathering furtively around me each night as a I read, absorbed and became increasingly more invested in the lives of the characters of this extraordinary book. That was a long sentence. I had obviously been living in a bunker, because I missed the hype and publicity accompanying Anthony Doerr back in 2014. But I’m here now.
Even-though I found the story difficult to lock into at the beginning (which may have had more to do with my own personal state of mind at time than any real fault of the author) I persevered and found characters of strength, courage, loyalty and depth and out of the terrible immorality of war, found kindness and love.
Briefly, the story revolves around Marie-Laure, a French blind girl, and Werner, a German boy whose gift for radio mechanics gets him enlisted into the Nazi army. His job is to locate and destroy illegal radio transmissions - all the while bringing him closer to meeting Marie-Laure in the French coastal town of St. Malo. She and her father evacuated here from Paris after the German occupation. Doerrs’ prose is beautifully descriptive throughout but he handles their exodus so touchingly, how he carries her when her feet hurt (I was listening to Nick Cave’s We Came Along This Road at the time, so tears were spilled). In fact, their relationship is one of the great triumphs of the book, as is the bond between herself and her great-uncle Etienne, voice of the broadcasts we hear at the opening.
I was gripped by these ’children with a conscience’, their experiences, their fates, Marie-Laure’s infatuation with Jules Verne and Werner’s passion for science. I was also very impressed by Doerr’s sentiment, his insights and writing style. He was criticised I think, for normalizing the Nazi historical record, but I don’t believe that was the point of the novel. I didn’t talk about the miniature neighbourhoods, the Sea of Flames, the sea ‘big enough to contain everything anyone could ever feel’, the snails or the messages in baguettes but bravery, intellect, memory and unwavering hope combine to move the reader in innumerably emotional ways. The fact that it’s possible all of humanity, dead and living, communicate in unseen light along inexplicable wavelengths is just pure poetry to me. Full marks all round.

Being raised to idleness in England, left Harry Cane ill prepared for life as a homesteader in the town of Winter, but becoming a farmer was only the beginning of the making of this man. I’m so glad I gave Patrick Gale a second chance (Notes From An Exhibition was wearisome to say the least) because, I adored this book. For the last week, Harry Cane and co., were the only people I wanted to spend any time with.
The story is loosely based on Gale’s great grandfather, as one of the hundreds of Englishmen who joined the homesteading adventure of the Canadian prairies in the early 20th century. It’s a bitter-sweet and rather erotic love story; a portrait of daily life in an extreme environment (Gale’s descriptive talents are mesmerizing) and a compelling portrait of a man, who faced ostracism on many fronts, not least sexually. The prose is exceptionally beautiful in places and tears were spilled.
Harry is haunted by various men throughout the book, most significantly the love of his life, Paul, but also by the prowling Danish-man, Troels Munk, an ominous figure who resurfaces at various points to thwart and hinder the progress made by Harry and those closest to him.
The story is told in flashbacks, with climaxes everywhere, it’s genuinely gripping, and the compassionate and kind-hearted nature of many of the characters make it all the more endearing. The book just has an elegance and charm that you don’t find everywhere and although I’d like to have seen some events and individuals develop more, it’s safe to say that Harry Cane and A Place Called Winter have found a home in the grey folds of my brain. A real keeper. Highly recommended.

The more books written about mental ill-health the better, even more so when they're written by people who've experienced it. For sufferers, for families and friends of sufferers this is a book worth reading, a starting point to gaining deeper knowledge and insight into what depression is, what anxiety is, what it's like to live on the fringes of society.
Being a writer, Matt Haig does an exemplary job of describing his experiences, how he felt and what he did to get better, expressing what, for many people in the fog of depression, is the inexpressible. He was fortunate to have a caring family and a loving partner who, it seems is nothing short of a saint, who took care of him, stood by him and led him through the dark tunnel out into the light of wellness. Many people are not afforded this luxury however and have to suffer in the darkness alone, or in the care of the mental health services, which, in this country at least, is worse than being alone.
I understand that this is Matt’s journey but I found some of what he had to say a bit preachy in places. It’s great he was able to voraciously read his way to wellness, without medication, without therapy etc., but again, for the majority, this is not always the case.
Although the book has a lot of useful information, statistics, self-help techniques, a new vocabulary to help explain symptoms and cognitive hurdles etc., I just found there to be something disingenuous about it, I don’t know why, maybe Haig was holding back, maybe there were a few stones left unturned, but I sensed a smugness that I wasn’t happy about and as a result, didn’t feel as inspired as I possibly should have.

This is another cracker of a novel by Anne Enright. Having just read 'The Forgotten Waltz' I am fast falling in love with this woman’s heart and mind. Her story-telling is enthralling and her prose addictive. The horrors and delights of family life are in sharp focus as we join the surviving members of the Hegarty family, in Dublin for their brothers wake. With Veronica, we journey into the family’s troubled past to help make sense of his death, after which “nothing settles, not even the dust”. Because Veronica is the one who loved him the most, it’s her job to travel to the UK to collect her brothers body “or view it, or say hello to it, or goodbye, or whatever you do to a body you once loved”.
Enright writes from a place of deep observation. Every character, family member and location described in minute detail. One night she looks at her husbands body “Tom is sad in his sleep. His hands are gathered under his chin, his legs are impossibly long and large, they do not look bent so much as broken at the knee. The hollow under his ribcage slopes to a little low, pot-belly and the cushion of his scrotum rests in the V of his thighs. He is very pale”. This is the kind of writing that can elevate even the most dour of subjects.
Veronica travels back in time to her grandparents house, Ada & Charlie, in Broadstone, where she, Liam and younger sister Kitty were sent to live, while their Mother got over another miscarriage (she had seven of them). She pictures her brother in all sorts of places, communicates with him pre and post-death, speculating about why it was he, who wandered off the path. Something terrible happened to Liam, he is the lovable tragedy and Veronica his only saviour.
She alienates herself from her husband and daughters, taking to night-driving in order to grieve in the most honest of ways. Everything is laid bare, no element of the family’s dysfunction is overlooked. And as they arrive home in their turn, the dynamics shift in pursuit of the truth.
This is a well-told story about pleasure and pain, shock and despair, resentment and the lack of forgiveness, but with an incomparable, intelligent wit. It’s almost as if she wrote the whole thing in one sitting, that the memories and hidden truths came spilling out in the precise order and language. She’s a brilliant writer and this is a brilliant book.
Highly recommended.

The jury is still out on this one.
Brilliantly written, with some unusual yet very authentic characters, intelligent plot-lines, interesting observations on economics, mental health, pharmaceuticals, squirrels … but something doesn’t quite fit. Maybe it's the promise of the ‘raucously funny’ ‘laugh out loud’ blurb, that's causing me to struggle a bit, but I'm not as altered by this novel as some readers are. The materialistic Paul gets all squirrelly with the anti-consumerist Veblen and between jumping from one dysfunctional hoop through another, they realise they’re not that different after all and that, in the words of Kacey Musgraves ,‘family is family, in church or in prison, you get what you get and you don‘t get to pick ‘em’, then with a final sprinkling of sarcasm the world is a beautiful place again. Hurray!
You'll have to seeforyourselfforyourselfforyourself, but I think it's definitely worth the read.

Excellent read. Does exactly what it says on the tin. Very encouraging, sensitively written with some great advice and interesting anecdotes. Most important tools are confidence, joy in the work and the heart to write wild and free! Good man Ted :)