Bernadine Evaristo's "Girl, Woman, Other" is - quite simply - a triumph. I have no idea why it has taken me so long to read it. Perhaps I was put-off by its 450 pages, or the blurb, or the cover - the last two of these suggesting that somehow it wasn't going to be 'my … Continue reading “Girl, Woman, Other” →

It was partly because I liked Richard Powers' "The Overstory" so much that I tried as hard as I could to get through "Galatea 2.2" - but I simply couldn't finish it, and gave up about a third of the way through. It has been a while since I last had to admit defeat like … Continue reading “Galatea 2.2” →

It is easy to see why David Diop's relentlessly dark "At Night All Blood Is Black" won the 2021 International Booker Prize. The novel is suitably dark and brooding, an examination of one man's decline into madness as he and his French compatriots fight in the trenches of World War One. Alfa's Senegalese roots permeates … Continue reading “At Night All Blood Is Black” →

Elsewhere I have observed how - to my palette at least - some books have not aged well in terms of their writing style. In the case of Alain-Fournier's "Le Grand Meaulnes" I find a novel that has not travelled well both in terms of style and plot. Indeed, I was most struck by how … Continue reading “Le Grand Meaulnes” →

Having already read three novels by Colum McCann, perhaps one of the best compliments I can pay "Songdogs" is to say that it simply doesn't read like a debut novel. It is inevitable that in many first novels Authors are finding their feet, only growing into themselves and establishing their voice and presence as they … Continue reading “Songdogs” →

"By no means a conventional crime story" - according to the blurb on my copy of Olga Tokarczuk's "Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead". Let's face it, a conventional crime story is the last thing you'd expect to emerge from the slightly surreal worlds of the Nobel Prize winning Tokarczuk. And in … Continue reading “Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead” →

If Max Porter's "The Death of Francis Bacon" is intended to represent the ravings of a dying man, then job done. Tick. The danger - from a reader's perspective, however - is that you're not entirely sure exactly what's going on. There is a balance to be struck, of course, a tightrope to be walked, … Continue reading “The Death of Francis Bacon” →

The final instalment of Ali Smith's quartet, "Summer", is lorded on the front cover of my copy as 'a tour de force' - and for once the publishers are not wrong. In many ways "Summer" is an extraordinary achievement: stylistically inventive, politically astute and opinionated, accomplished in the depiction of character and relationships... Yes, it … Continue reading “Summer” →

It would be a little disingenuous for me to say that I've no idea why I chose to read Anne Tyler's "Redhead by the Side of the Road". I chose it because the front cover boasted Booker long-listing; the back cover made it sound interesting; and it was on the 'buy-one-get-one-half-price' table at Waterstones. There. … Continue reading “Redhead by the Side of the Road” →