Book reviews – Walking Home and Under the Glacier and MORE confessions #books #amreading #bookconfessions


oct-2016-tbrWell I’ve got two books from the North today (one further North than the other), both with trademark deadpan humour and surreal juxtapositions, but one eminently readable and the other Very Confusing. And then, to bookend October, which started of course with my mega-book-buying in Cornwall, we have a little pile of lovelies picked up in Buxton last weekend.

Simon Armitage – “Walking Home”

(25 December 2015, from Sian)

I absolutely loved this account of his walk down the Pennine Way (the ‘wrong way’) from Scotland to his home village. I went to a reading by Armitage centred on this book years ago at the  Birmingham Book Festival with Sian, and, helped by persuading Matthew to have a dip into the audiobook, I heard the whole book in his distinctive voice.

It’s funny and wry and self-deprecating, of course. It looks upon the surreal and provides a photograph, more often than not. It’s lovely on birds, which was a super surprise and a really great punctuation throughout the book. It lets you into secrets about the Pennine Way, like the attitudes of the people whose land it crosses and the efforts of its instigators to help walkers navigate the odd motorway.

The book is full of lovely little details, like, the waitress who “‘ducks’ beneath the poem as she passes in front of me with a Cumberland sausage,” because of course Armitage is also performing for money given into a sock at a variety of venues down the spine of his journey, recording the money and stray objects he receives and relying on the kindness of strangers to transport his suitcase.

It’s a walk through memories as well, of his family in particular, and those parts are very affecting, as he muses on being someone who’s never moved more than a few miles from where he was born (is this a common thing nowadays, I wonder?). He makes new friends and meets up with old ones, filling in descriptions with a wonderful poet’s shorthand. Excellent book.

Halldor Laxness – “Under the Glacier”

(25 December 2015, from Jane in the US for my Librarything Virago Group Not So Secret Santa)

I want to say first that I loved the other Laxness I’ve read so far, Independent People, and this was on my wishlist.

I was just lost. I did not understand this book at all. Fleeting scenes of a young man investigating a priest gone a bit wrong, random cakes, a mysterious package on a glacier, a disappearing wife … it was just like I was actually reading it in my poor Icelandic (although I’m sure the translation was good). Susan Sontag either understood it enough to write an introduction I couldn’t work out or was pretending. Lost, I was: lost. And I’m sure it was entirely my fault.

I’m wondering what Sian or Karen, both keener than me on weird European fiction, would make of it.

This was written in 1968 and so I’m adding it to the Century of Books, but will swap it out if I read another from that year!


OK, rather hastily onto those book purchases now … I picked all of these up in the Brierlow Bar Bookshop just outside Buxton, having gone up there to meet my friend Laura (we cover each other’s editing work but luckily no one needed one of us!). It’s a great remainder book shop with a good stock that apparently changes regularly. We then went round all the charity shops, which had lots of good books that I already had and compelled Laura to buy!

Jenny Colgan – “Class” – bought purely and simply because it’s set in a girls’ school in Cornwall – I couldn’t even work out which bit of Cornwall on a quick flick. I was glad I got this as looking at the TBR shelf, it’s rather low on fiction (11 to 25 non-fic now on the main shelf).

Muhammad Yunus – “Banker to the Poor” – he’s the chap who invented microfinance on a big scale – the precursor to all the Kivas and similar, and won a Nobel Prize for it. Hopefully some good and uplifting reading to cheer and provide solace in these dark days of seeming selfishness and entitlement.

Carol Watts – “Writers and their Work: Dorothy Richardson” – a real find, it discusses “Pilgrimage” in some detail, yet is small enough to post around all the “Pilgrimage” readers who would like to read it next year and find out what the series was all about. What a random and excellent find!

Ronald Rice – “My Bookstore” – an America book with delicious untrimmed edges which interviews lots of American writers (Jill McCorkle!) about their favourite places to read and buy books. Looks altogether delightful.

Russell Taylor – “The Looniness of the Long-Distance Runner” – I’m a sucker for running books and this is about a man who signed up for the New York City Marathon then had a year to get fit. It looks funny but is hopefully not TOO silly, and a good inspiration I’m sure.

That’s not many really, is it, and you’ll see tomorrow that the TBR really isn’t that bad still. Hooray!

I’ve also finished Anne Tyler’s “A Spool of Blue Thread”, read on the train journeys to and from Buxton (when I wasn’t reminiscing about Birmingham nightclubs of the 1990s with a bloke I ran for the Stockport-Buxton train with). A bittersweet read in itself, made more bittersweet by it being her LAST book (and I’ve read every one of the others), and will be reviewed in the wrong month as there’s no room for it in October.

Have you read any of these? Have you read a book you couldn’t understand recently??

Book reviews – Mrs ‘Arris Goes to Paris and Prodigal Summer #books #amreading



Two more holiday reads here – I can’t quite believe I only read four books while we were in Cornwall, but then I did mine two more for quotations to finish my Iris Murdoch research (first draft done) so that took up some reading time. Oh, and I chatted on the train on the way down, which took away some reading time, too. Never mind, these two were great reads, and I had a lovely holiday still.

Paul Gallico – “Mrs ‘Arris Goes to Paris”

(25 January 2016 via BookCrossing)

A charming tale, reminiscent perhaps of the famous Persephone, “Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day”, focusing on a charlady who comes into some money and saves up the rest, determined to have a Dior dress, having seen one in one of her clients’ houses (her London clients are just one part of this book that are beautifully drawn in just a few lines).

It’s a fairy-tale, of course, with Mrs Harris’ simple charm winning people over and bringing people together all over the place. You could see the dialect-filled dialogue she’s given as condescending, but she’s clearly an attractive and charming lady who the author loves, so that can be overlooked, in my opinion. It’s incredibly sweet – some might find it too much so, but there are elements of peril and some sad bits, too. The portraits of London and Paris are charming and it’s a lovely escapist read.

The only downside to this book was that it was in a bizarre 1980s edition with hugely anachronistic illustrations which paid no heed to the post-war feel of the book and were really odd. It was originally published in 1957, which means that it fills in one of the years in my Century of Reading! And, because it was a BookCrossing book, I left it in our holiday cottage!

Barbara Kingsolver – “Prodigal Summer”

(25 December 2002 (I wonder who from!))

A re-read of this excellent novel, set in the Appalachian Mountains, because Matthew, having read and loved “Flight Behaviour” with me found that the audio book for this one was also narrated by the author. I read it first back in 2003, I expect, so it will be in my paper journals but was before I started an online book journal.

Linked to “Flight Behaviour” by its themes of nature, renewal, the peace of solitude, family, community and science being used for good, we follow a summer (and a bit more) in the lives of a set of interesting characters. There’s independent Deanna, who used to live in Egg Fork and had a conventional life but now lives alone in the forest, with her dream job maintaining and researching the forest and its wildlife. Her search for the coyotes she believes are spreading into the region is interrupted by the arrival of a possibly more powerful predator. Lusa, product of blended civilisations and trying to fit into what she sees as a very traditional mountain family, must use all her wiles to survive and has some big decisions to make. Elderly neighbours are feuding over organic farming methods and the Bible, with comic relief but real passion.

Everyone – and indeed everything – is connected, and nothing truly disappears, even if it’s thrown away. From the throbbing fecundity of springtime nature (and there is a fair bit of throbbing fecundity in this book, one episode of which confused me!) to slowly warming human relationships and slowly dawning realisations, it’s beautifully drawn and observed and highly engaging. Recommended.

I’m currently reading the lovely “Chatterton Square” for the 1947 Club, although I fear I won’t get it read and reviewed by the end of the week as I’ve suddenly had all my work projects come in to roost. I’m also working my way through Woolf’s “The Common Reader” for #Woolfalong – that’s not a chore at all, and I keep muttering “Just one more essay”, so beautifully are they put together.

Book reviews – The Lighthearted Quest and Moon Country #20booksofsummer #books


TBR July 2016Oh dear, one book left over from July and, even more horrifically, one book that I read in May, mentioned reading in May in another review, and NEVER REVIEWED! Not in my paper reading journal, not on here. I was only alerted to this fact when I was telling someone about my Reading a Century of Books project, was scanning down the list, noticed the title, thought “I’m sure I’ve read this”, looked for the review to link to it, and there was no review. So a little scrapheap for you here, and two books that are totally unrelated apart from the fact that they’re both set in different countries from the UK.

Ann Bridge – “The Lighthearted Quest”

(11 September 2015 from the lovely Jane at Beyond Eden Rock)

I met up with Jane when we were on holiday; we’d sent each other photos of books we had going spare, and I profited greatly from her passing me the Julia Strachey volume and this one. It’s a lovely elderly hardback with the dust cover just hanging on, and that does add to the reading enjoyment, doesn’t it.

This was a lovely, light (in the main) and fun novel which i have since found out is only the first in a series of eight Julia Probyn novels which I will now have to look out for! The estimable and pretty unflappable Julia (who still manages to be a very attractive and sympathetic character) takes on the task of finding her cousin Colin, who’s needed to take over the family estate in Scotland. Using her dumb-blonde exterior as a disguise, and making full and unashamed use of her many admirers and contacts, she’s soon skipping around Morocco with an assortment of bankers, bar owners, whiskery Belgian archaeologists and elderly ladies with mysterious nephews.

The threads of the story all come together beautifully: some you can guess, some people more accustomed to mysteries would have guessed before me, and some probably can’t be guessed, although it all works out logically. There are some charming characters, too. The only slight issue is there’s a LOT about the socio-political issues of French colonialism, which is interesting given the 1950s time of writing, which is perhaps a little heavy and over-emphasised (however, there is a frighteningly prescient comment about “elites [using] nationalist sentiments to use Islam as a lever to rouse the ignorant multitudes and try to create an independent African Moslem Empire”).

On balance, a charming book, well written and amusing, and I would read more in the series.

This was Book 12 in my #20BooksofSummer project.

Simon Armitage and Glyn Maxwell – “Moon Country” (May read)

(14 April 2015)

I bought this book second hand online after having been alerted to its existence by Karen from Kaggsysbookishramblings, who seems to be a prime enabler at the moment (to be far, she’s only really compelled me to buy two books in over a year …). It follows Auden and MacNieces’s seminal “Letters from Iceland” (which I re-read in August 2012) with these two poets making their own way around the country, like their predecessors, including reportage, poetry, funny Icelandic soubriquets and playscripts in the work they produce. A lot of the Reykjavik and other western areas were familiar to me after having visited the country twice myself (trips 3 and 4 are currently being planned), and it was more jolly and readable than the earlier work.

This book covered 1996 in my Century of Reading project.

There we go, all neat and tidy now. I’ve since read book 13 in #2obooks (“Being Freddie” by Andrew Flintoff) and am making good progress with the Kynaston which might just be book 14. I’m half-way through the month’s Dorothy Richardson volume, and a half-loving it, half frustrated by it; I’ve also read a book about running marathons slowly. How are you all doing?

Book reviews – Harold Nicolson’s Diaries and Letters 1930-39 and All in One Basket


Mar 2016 TBRTwo books by what one might term poshos today, really. But what poshos – lovely Harold Nicolson and lovely Deborah Devonshire. So not the braying old-Etonians who are trying to destroy our society, but two people who cared about the warp and weft of (especially) countryside society and community and thought carefully about books, gardens and other people. Oh, and they were both bought (an old book and a new, in Oxfam and The Works) on a lovely trip to Macclesfield with friends back in March 2015. Note how I’m less than a year out of date now, too!

Harold Nicolson – “Diaries and Letters 1930-39”

(Bought 28 March 2015, Macclesfield Oxfam)

As a long-term fan of the entire Nicolson family, this was a wonderful find (I found volumes 1 and 3 and have recently supplanted them with volume 2) and excellent, entertaining reading. It’s beautifully edited by his son, Nigel, to the extent of having the running headers change on each page to describe what’s going on on that very page – not something you find now, I think. There’s a very good biographical summary, skilled interpolations to explain the background or activities described, and great footnotes explaining who people are, too.

Harold Nicolson and Vita Sackville-West’s love and mutual respect shine through the book, which also includes some of her letters, for context: their only real falling-out is when she refuses to play the candidate’s wife when he’s standing in the General Election. It’s lovely to see their purchase of the Shiant Isles, about which their grandson Adam has written so beautifully (see my review of his “Sea Room“) as well as Harold and Nigel’s mutual love of the classics, which has also followed down the generations (I haven’t read Adam Nicolson’s book on Homer yet, but I will do). That’s what’s lovely when you’ve read biographies, novels, letters, diaries, etc., etc., surrounding a family and its generations, seeing patterns and places – dear Sissinghurst, of course, too, bought in this book and starting to develop – and people all moving along through the century.

Harold is witty and entertaining but serious and perceptive where he needs to be; we have an insider’s view of the Abdication Crisis and he’s fascinated by the House of Commons when he eventually gets there. Nigel is not hagiographical, being clear, for example, about Harold’s view that “true civilisation existed nowhere outside the inner circles of certain West European capital cities,” but it wouldn’t do to agree with everything that people you like think and say, and there is very much to like here. I’m already reading volume 2!

This book would suit: Anyone interested in 20th century history and politics, or houses and gardens, or the Bloomsburys and Nicolsons.

This book fills in a year in my Century of Re-Reading (although the 60s are quite sparse at the moment, so I’m not sure which volume will be the final one to be included!).

Deborah Devonshire – “All in One Basket”

(28 March 2015 – The Works, Macclesfield)

This jolly book by the youngest Mitford Sister draws together in one volume “Counting my Chickens” and “Home to Roost” with some additional essays and the original introductions by guest writers (including Alan Bennett). It’s a lovely collection of diary entries, short pieces, longer pieces (for example on the Kennedys), book reviews and fragments of memoir. Many of the pieces were written in her later years: she was obviously a doughty female who didn’t suffer fools gladly, and this shines through in her no-nonsense but often shriekingly funny prose.

Her love of place is evident, and her descriptions of Derbyshire lovely. Some of her pieces on modern language and ways are a little self-conscious, and I don’t agree with some of her more conservative views, but I loved the pieces on the experience of living in a stately home that’s run as a business, and the pieces about family (how did I not realise she was Emma Tennant’s mother?). All in all, it was a lovely, fresh and readable collection.

I was reading these two books at the same time, so it was lovely to come across a couple of mentions of Vita Sackville-West, her gardens and her gardening writing – I love it when that happens.

This book would suit: People looking for an easy, countryside-based read; fans of the Mitford Sisters.


So now it’s on to some heavy reviewing – I have the fascinating looking “The Prose Factory” on the go to review for Shiny New Books, and the republisher, Open Road Media, has kindly offered me two Margery Sharp novels to review through Netgalley (they’ve asked me to release those reviews near to the publication date, so watch out next month). I’ve had a look at the next Dorothy Richardson and it’s a biggie, so I’m hoping I will get some good solid reading time in during the next week or so! I am marshalling at a cross-country running event tomorrow – maybe there will be big gaps between competitors … (only joking).

Book reviews – Crossriggs (Virago) and Tales of the Chalet School (Jan and Feb reads)


Feb 2016 TBRTwo sets of rather contrasting books today – and also two from last month and two from this. The Elinor M. Brent-Dyers are as you would expect rather conventional underneath the madcap heroines and female resourcefulness; the Findlater is remarkable for its freedom of emotion and its steadfast heroine. All to be enjoyed for different reasons, of course!

Jane and Mary Findlater – “Crossriggs”

(22 January 2015 – from fellow LibraryThing Virago Group member ccookie)

A wonderful 1908 novel by the prolific (but as yet unread by me) Scottish sisters and in a lovely Virago green edition that came to me kind of by accident when a fellow Virago Group member sent a copy to me to give to a friend, who had managed to acquire one from somewhere else. I’m so glad it came to me and that I’ve read it – and I know at least one other book blogger chum is planning to read it, too.

It’s set in a small Scottish town an hour by train and a huge distance in the residents’ heads from Edinburgh, this novel is reminiscent of both Trollope (with its small group of families of varying economic statuses) and Jane Austen (quite purposefully, with its pair of sisters, silly ladies, a few good families making up society and pivotal quote from “Emma”). We meet the rather wonderful Alex, daughter of an impractical dreamer and sister of a woman with no imagination, who returns from Canada, widowed and poor, with her children at the start of the book. The seemingly imperturbable Robert Maitland, his withdrawn wife and his spiky aunt, the young radical Van Cassilis, returned to live with his grumpy, blind grandfather after the death of his father, contrasted with the silly, jangling and no longer young Bessie Reid make up the town’s society.

There are undercurrents and things we are not told but gradually have revealed to us over the course of the novel through looks, almost touches, blushes and memories; there are unspoken and unsuitable loves, spoken and suitable loves, sudden romances, tragedy and comedy. All of these aspects, mixed with lovely descriptions of the countryside and rare excursions to the big city, where anyone can be encountered on the train and triumph can turn to humiliation and vice versa, are precipitated by those returning to or coming to Crossriggs for the first time, to be assimilated or spat out and rejected.

Alex is a delicious character, fully rounded, spiteful and too quick to speak her mind – the introduction claims that her authors love her too much, and perhaps they do, but she’s drawn so beautifully. Her views on marriage, preferring no marriage and dreams to settling, are refreshing, and she’s a character I will remember.

This book will suit: Lovers of Austen, Trollope and the Viragoes and Persephones about the Modern Woman, for here she is, cooped up in a small town, unable to spread her wings far, as her sisters do in other books.

Elinor M. Brent-Dyer – “The School at the Chalet”, “Jo of the Chalet School” and “The Princess of the Chalet School”

(18 May 2015 – charity shop)

I will admit to taking this substantial volume off the shelf in order to get some more space going on the TBR …

I can’t understand how I’ve never read these before, and they provided a rather odd contrast with the Dorothy Richardson novels I read in December and January, also set in schools and written at almost the same time.

“The School at the Chalet” covers the idea for and setting up of the Chalet School in the Austrian mountains, and there is of course the usual stuff that happens in school stories, so in both this one  and “Jo of the Chalet School” we have people cheeking the prefects, noble friendships, getting stuck on mountains, coming home with dangerous temperatures and being kept in bed, etc. It’s all very gendered and pretty conservative behind the resourceful women teachers and capable girls and schoolgirls sorting matters out between themselves, with at least one occasion in each book where a man is needed to sort things out. But they are fresh and lively, with realistic characters and nice families of the Austrian schoolgirls, even though they were a bit unremitting in terms of exciting events rather than character development (I have to remember who they were written for, though!).

“The Princess of the Chalet School” was a bit disappointing, although it does cover Jo’s development as a writer, deals in a tongue in cheek way with other school stories, and examines how to deal with a thoroughly unpleasant character. The storyline of a princess from a made-up country joining the school was a bit silly, and the explanation of the Evil Uncle rather un-PC, and the side story of Madge the headmistress getting married and thus having to give up running the school, although Of Its Time etc., was a bit annoying. It also seemed to have jumped forward in time, missing out some people leaving. Enough Chalet School for me, I think, although I did enjoy these.

This book will suit: fans of 1920s school stories.

“Jo of the Chalet School” fills in 1926 in my Century of Reading.

In other news …

The lovely magazine full of tempting book reviews, Shiny New Books 8 is out and I have a review in the non-fiction section (although it’s a version of one that’s already appeared here, but zhuzed up a bit). I’m going to be reviewing D. J. Taylor’s “The Prose Factory” for the next edition, which I’m really excited about, especially because Iris Murdoch appears in the index a few times.

In other acquisition news, the eagle-eyed among you might have spotted that I have Harold Nicolson’s Letters and Diaries Vols 1 and 3, but not Vol 2, covering 1939-45 – as those are coming up on the TBR now (and will be my dinner table read once Our Ken is done), I did the decent thing and ordered a copy.

In Our Ken [Livingstone] news, well, the book has only gone and got FASCINATING about half-way through! He’s an MP now, and Tony Blair has just come into power and it’s great, read-out-loud bits and everything. So I’m glad I persisted.

And finally …

I was chatting with the lovely author Paul Magrs on Facebook, mentioning that I read his first novel, “Marked for Life” first 20 years ago, and the fact that he’s one of the three authors I’ve ever written to. Who were the others? Erica Jong and Iris Murdoch. What a triumvirate (I wrote to Paul when I found he’d mentioned BookCrossing in his lovely and highly recommended novel “Exchange”. I wrote to the others aged 16 for tips on Being A Writer).

Have you ever written to an author?

PS. I’ve just remembered I’ve also written to Adam Nicolson. So that’s four.

Book reviews – Mrs Dalloway and Backwater


Jan 2016 TBRI do like to theme my pairs of reviews but don’t always manage. But today I have a corker – two fantastic examples of stream of consciousness modernist novels by two seminal writers. One is very well known, one very much less so. One relates her characters to the outer world, to events in history, to characters in history, the other writes in a much more enclosed space.

Virginia Woolf – “Mrs Dalloway”

(bought 9 January 1992)

I bought this when I was 20, at university, and I have a feeling that I haven’t read it again in the meantime, so it was hardly surprising that I’d forgotten as much as I remembered about this classic. It’s thanks to Heaven-Ali‘s #Woolfalong project that I re-read it this month, and I’m glad I did, although I would say that it’s best to approach this (maybe all books that look deep into the mind of people who are having mental crises) when you’re feeling calm and in no way fragile yourself. I read it when I was a bit frazzled, and I certainly found it more disturbing and depressing than I did at 20. Was I more resilient then? Have I experienced too much mental health issues stuff in the meantime? I’m not sure, but I know I did have to read some fluffy stuff afterwards.

Anyway. It was curious how much I had forgotten – I had totally wiped Septimus Smith’s wife, Rezia, from my memory, for example, believing that Septimus wandered the streets of London alone! While we’re on the subject of the streets of London, having lived in London for seven or so years and in Covent Garden for two of them did give an extra dimension of enjoyment, as I was able to imagine Mrs D and Septimus and Rezia’s wanderings quite clearly. I had also forgotten the flashbacks to Mrs D’s youth.

I found it a depressing read, with Septimus’ fracturing world described so horribly clearly and the despair of Rezia heartbreaking to read. That’s  not to say it’s a bad book – it is of course amazing, but it’s one to read when you’re feeling fortified against the horrors of the world.

A Penguin Modern Classics edition with good (if sometimes a bit obvious) notes and a great introduction by Elaine Showalter. And I was excited to find the road we used to live off on the map in the front!

This book would suit … Woolf fans, modernism fans, people interested in the development of the novel in the 20th century, people who’ve read Michael Cunningham’s “The Hours” or seen the film and want to go back to the original

This book fulfils the first section of Ali’s #Woolfalong project, and also fills 1925 in my own Century of Reading.

Dorothy Richardson – “Backwater”

The second book in Richardson’s Pilgrimage series, which I’m reading alongside a few blogger friends this year, and Miriam has left Germany and is interviewed for a position at a school in North London. Again, the characters she meets are shown obliquely and entirely from her viewpoint. As an aside, I described this as being “Cubist” in my last Richardson review, and was pleased (OK, a bit smug) to read in the introduction to “Mrs Dalloway” Woolf’s technique being described in the same way.

Anyway, this technique has started to remind me a bit of when I was studying linguistics, and was introduced to the idea that people talking face-to-face hardly ever use nouns. Think about it – if you’re dress shopping, you’ll go, “I like that one, what about the blue one, oh, this is nice, let’s try these on”. Then the listener must try to piece together what’s being talked about, especially if they’re analysing a tape of the discussion without the context. Following Miriam’s thought processes, preoccupations and discussions, we lose track of people then find them again way later: for example, early on, she meets a man during the holidays, then we get absorbed in the world of school again, and it’s only much later that we obliquely hear what happened to their relationship – because Richardson selects rather than giving everything, and the selection is almost random, as one’s own thought processes tend to be.

Miriam is growing up in this book, but she odes seem like a mardy teenager in places, for example when she’s on holiday with two sisters and a prospective brother-in-law and finds the other holiday-makers’ perfectly normal plans “silly” in the extreme, but then engages in some sort of slightly desulatory flirtation with a man they meet, or using slang terms in front of her older, staid employers. She is given more responsibility than she was in Germany, and her interactions with her acolyte / admirer (who is actually more natural with the pupils than she is) highlight the gap between perception and reality (opening up interesting ideas about how our perception of her life through her eyes might relate to reality).

The book ends on another point of change for the characters and I look forward to the next volume. Why did I think this was so difficult and put off reading it? Again, thank you to the booky friends who have encouraged and joined in this readalong (and please post links to your reviews in the comments).

This book would suit … see above, if you want a lost woman of modernism to contrast with the well-known one!


Margery Sharp's birthdayCurrently reading – I’ve been a bit tired this week, so I decided to pick the “Chalet School” omnibus off the shelf because it’s a nice big one and will make more room! I’ve also just started Margery Sharp’s “The Foolish Gentlewoman” which I’m reading for Jane at Beyond Eden Rock‘s Margery Sharp’s 111th Birthday Read – seems very good so far although I’m not completely sure I’ll have it read and reviewed for Monday (apparently that’s OK, though!).

Are you doing Woolfalong or the Dorothy Richardson readalong? How is your January reading going?

Stats and Best Books of 2015 plus (parlous) state of the TBR January 2016


Jan 2016 TBRAs we all probably know by now, I don’t like to post my Best Of until the first day of the New Year, just in case I read THE BEST BOOK EVER as the last book of the year. I almost did this year, too. So here’s my pic of the year’s books, but some stats first …

In 2015, I read 115 books – 83 fiction and 32 non-fiction. In 2014, it was 104 in total, but 50 fiction and 54 non-fiction. I’ll blame my flu in May and a couple of colds for that. Interestingly, although my top 10 include books by 6 men and 4 women, I read 71 books by women and 43 by men (and one by a man and a woman, in case you’re adding up). However, 19 of those 71 were by Debbie Macomber or Georgette Heyer, so a lot of shorter, lighter reads there. I’m surprised at how little non-fiction I read this year, as I certainly have a lot of it on my shelf at the moment.

Top ten books of the year

In order of reading …

Robert Tressell – “The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists” – always meant to read it, this was the year I did

Anthony Trollope – “The Warden” – started my love of Trollope!

Helen Cross – “The Secrets She Keeps” – wonderful, funny, moving novel

Gillian Dooley – “From a Tiny Corner in the House of Fiction” – all the interviews Iris Murdoch did, beautifully edited

Robertson Davies – “Tempest Tost” – re-read of a favourite, still marvellous

Arnold Bennett – “Clayhanger” – first in a series and so absorbing

Carol Ann Duffy – “The World’s Wife” – the first time a book of poetry has made it onto the top ten, I think

Vita Sackville-West – “The Heir” – I loved “The Edwardians” too, but I loved this more

Steve Silberman – “Neurotribes” – uncomfortable reading in parts but really important and fascinating

James Kelman – “You Have to be Careful in the Land of the Free” – dialect, yes, but such an unputdownable read

Special series mentions go to …

Arnaldur Idriðason – The Reykjavik Murder Series – I’m only on Book 2 but I love these and I love love love the setting!

John Galsworthy – The Forsyte Saga – nine wonderful books read this year in good company


My DNFs and one Finished But Only Because It Was A Review Copy:

Wolfgang Iser – “The Art of Reading” – Too Hard. But I got what I could out of it

John Algeo – “British and American English” – not what it was advertised as being – it translated British into American and I wanted the other way round. No indication of this on the blurb!

Jonathan Franzen – “Freedom” – I liked another of his books, this was angry and horrible and I gave up

Tracy March – “Should’ve Said No” – indeed. A queasy mix of sex’n’museums

Reading challenges past and future

I read the Galsworthys and did #20BooksOfSummer in the summer (failed that one slightly). I’ve got up to 55 years filled in my Reading the Century project, pretty well naturally (i.e. not many books bought to fulfil it) but I have filled in lots of popular years now so might have to aim for the 60s this coming year!

I’ll be continuing Reading the Century, continuing reading Dorothy Richardson’s “Pilgrimage” series and will be doing Heaven-Ali’s #Woolfalong project, which reads novels and essays by and books about Virginia Woolf.

State of the TBR January 2016

Jan 2014 bSee above. Oops. Only all fits on because Christmas and post-Christmas is horizontal (you can see it on the right, on the back row). The January 2015 TBR looked like this, which was far more manageable! But I’m definitely Making More Time For Reading now, so hopefully I can get through them to the delights I’ve picked up recently.

Jan 2016 currently readingI’m currently reading Ken Livingstone’s memoirs (which are quite dull, but in a good way, if you see what I mean) (note the Morrab Library bookmark, reminding me of Cornwall friends), plus “Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Won’t Stop Talking” which is quite good if you need that sort of thing, but not QUITE for me, and a book about not buying things on my Kindle.

Jan 2016 coming upComing up, it’s time for another Dorothy Richardson (hooray!) and Ali’s Woolfalong is starting, so I’ll need to check what I’m meant to be picking up for that. Then these books are next on the TBR – you can see it HAS shifted, because this picture is actually different to those of the last few months!

Every year at the end of the year I think “Do I actually want to bother carrying on with the reading blog?” I do always note my reviews in a paper journal, but I do enjoy the interaction I have on here with other book bloggers, even though this is not the most popular blog and doesn’t get as many comments as others. I cherish my comments and commenters, so I’m going to carry on and I look forward to hearing what you all have to say.

Have you posted your Top Books yet? I bet you have. What challenges are you doing and what have you got coming up in January? Have you read any of these books on my shelf?

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