Furniture

Furniture
Lorraine Mariner

Okay, so I am a little late on the scene when it comes to Lorraine Mariner. Anyone who knows anything about contemporary poetry must already be familiar with her blunt commentaries on real life and her first lines that make you just want to go away and write. But I couldn't resist getting in on the conversation. 

This collection reads a little like the diary of a teenage girl, growing up, learning about the world around her. But it is also reflective and mature, looking back on the hopes and fears we all share, and those that are unique to each of us. 

This is what makes Mariner's poetry so inspiring - first lines that can lead you anywhere, taking you back into your own memories of being in school, falling in love, feeling jealous or angry or naive. Like Injured, which starts with a line about what you always fantastised about at school - Mariner's dream being that she would get injured and be propelled to the dizzy heights of in-school celebrity. 

Or My Beast, documenting a young girl's concern that her fairytale story would come unravelled by her own inabilities to play the part of princess properly; which led to some brilliant creations in one of our First Story sessions back at OSA.

My love for Lorraine Mariner arises somewhere between Stanley, the witty first poem in the collection in which the author breaks up with her imaginary boyfriend, and Heart, which recounts that universal experience of losing your heart to someone who doesn't deserve it, accidentally "slipping it / into his pocket as he did up his overcoat". She explores those heartbreaking elements of growing up in a way that is so unique and yet seems so obvious - you will hate yourself for not thinking them up first. 

I borrowed this collection from the library, and have had a hard time bringing myself to take it back. Perhaps it is just one I am going to have to buy. 

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
Haruki Murakami

In my opinion, Murakami is one of the most incredible writers of our time, and / or he has an uniquely talented translator. The novels he writes are original, thought-provoking and haunting, often leaving you with more questions than answers (I recently read Kafka on the Shore as part of the OSA book club). But the fact that his stories often conclude with many lose ends is forgivable due to the brilliant of his style, his ability to portray life in a way like no other. 

I hadn't realised that Murakami was such a keen long distance runner. This book accounts for his thoughts around his writing but mainly his running in a period of just over one year. He describes his progression into running and his development as an amateur athlete. Alongside this, Murakami explores some of the overlaps between being a runner and being a writer - the stamina and dedication needed, the prerequisites required, and the importance of seeing past the suffering and challenges. 

It has taken me quite some time to read this book - in between various other novels and collections, I got stumped by the un-Murakami-ness of this Murakami memoir of sorts. 

How to Build a Girl

How to Build a Girl
Caitlin Moran

 I had almost neglected to write this review, seeing as it has been so over-reviewed already, but when I saw a friend reading it and laughing all the way through, I felt the need to offer my thoughts.

All those who know Caitlin Moran know her story by now - a clever girl raised on a council estate who lands a teenage writing prize and goes on to blag a column in The Times. Moran insists that How to Build a Girl is fiction, but it is hard to distance this novel from her own reality.

But it is not the plot of this novel that I want to celebrate, rather the little snippets of hilarity that are simultaneously completely familiar and obsurely unique. The teenage self-consiousness that convinces Johanna Morrigan she is singularly responsible for her family's poverty. The misreading of social convention that makes dressing solely in black seem like the best idea, and her mother's concern that she is acting like a dark crow that has decended upon the household. The naivety that allows her to have so much sex and so few orgasims.

Whether or not you like that fact that Moran seems to only write about one thing, you cannot deny the fact that she is honest, realistic and frankly hilarious.

The Hare with the Amber Eyes

The Hare with the Amber Eyes
Edmund de Waal

I am not much of a reader of biographies - only those of specific individuals I admire. But in order to see how Cardiff librarians run their book clubs, I thought I would read this and attend the meeting at Cathays. 

Edmund de Waal has a fascinating family history, spanning many nations, and measured in this book by the presence of netsuke, small Japanese figures collected by his ancestors. They are initially collected by Charles Ephrussi, a Russian immigrant in Paris, at the height of their popularity. The figures move from here, to Vienna, to England and finally back to Japan with de Waal's uncle, Iggy. 

I really enjoyed reading through the context of the journey - learning the details of the Ephrussi's attempts at assimilation into Vienna between the wars, and their eventual exclusion from the city during the Nazi reign. They were an incredibly adaptable family, spreading themselves through Europe and later into South America and the far East. And yet, despite their best efforts, anti-Semitism was too ripe to bring the family peace. 

Some elements of the story seemed too good to be true - many of the family's fortunes came thanks to their wealth, but the survival of the netsuke was incredible. During the Nazi occupation, the Ephrussi household was taken over by the Nazi bureaucracy, and their property was scattered amongst the Ayrian elite. But the netsuke escaped attention, and were smuggled to safety in the folds of the apron of the family maid. 

I would have liked to have learned more about de Waal's grandmother, Elisabeth. She was the daughter of the glamorous Baroness Emmy, a fashionable, sophisticated woman - but unlike her mother, Elisabeth had little fashion sense and was a determined, academic young woman. She fought for her education, and later fought to get her family out of Vienna during the Second World War. And after the war, she fought to regain possession of all the art and property her family lost during the Nazi occupation. I admired Elisabeth, a woman who seemed completely ahead of her time. 

The end of the novel left me wondering what might happen next to the netsuke and to the Ephrussi family, now diluted by marriage and spread across the world. 

Chick

Chick
Hannah Lowe
Tarset, Bloodaxe, 2013, 71p

For National Poetry Day, I thought I would do a write up about some poetry! 

I have been dipping in and out of Chick for a few weeks, sneaking poems in coffee breaks and quiet moments. Last year, she was commended in the Forward Book of Poetry, and now I am honoured to be working with the Forward Foundation this year, so thought I would do some extracurricular research.

Hannah Lowe's first collection is an autobiographical exploration of her childhood, with a focus upon her relationship with her father. A mysterious and secretive figure of her memories, he was a Chinese-black Jamaican migrant, who only seems to have become part of her life towards his death. 

The poems are emotive and innocent, drawing from Lowe's memories of her youth. There are gaps and moments of hyperbole, where reality has blurred at the edges with time. But the poems are incredibly visual, creating a picture through her concrete language and intricate detail. 

One of the projects I am running at OSA with the Forward Foundation is the Forward Young Responses project (see more here), through which we are encouraging students to read the poetry of past Forward winners in the hope that it will inspire their writing. I found that, reading through Hannah Lowe's full collection, I couldn't help but recall my own childhood memories. For example, the poem, Self Portrait, Before Me is so perfectly visual that it brought to mind photographs I have seen of my childhood and my parents, and flicking back through old photos, I was minded to write. 

I am glad I got around to reading this collection; I have been meaning to read this for some time, having been recommended by one of my sixth form students. Oh, how the tables have turned!

The Invention of Wings

The Invention of Wings

Sue Monk Kidd

Tinder, 2014, 410p

I received this book some months ago as a free proof via Twitter from the wonderful people at Tinder publishing. I love Sue Monk Kidd, having read The Secret Life of Bees in my teens whilst studying the slave trade - it added a personal, emotional element to my understanding of the suffering and desperation of those who were victims of slavery.

The Invention of Wings is a story told by Sarah Grimke, the daughter of an aristocratic landowner, and Hetty Handful, a slave of the Grimke household. When Hetty is given to Sarah as a present, Sarah tries to give her back, uncomfortable with the idea of owning another person. She is a forward thinking and ambitious young girl, determined to follow her father into the legal profession. But her parents refuse to accept her liberal ways, and bestow Hetty upon Sarah anyway. Sarah tries to be kind to Hetty, but sometimes finds slavery too ingrained in her way of life.

Hetty, meanwhile, tells us the story of her mother and her grandmother - how their talents as seamstresses have helped them become house slaves, rather than those who work the fields. Yet, Hetty's mother has a streak of danger running through her blood, and her attempts to defy their masters and liberate themselves from slavery end in the harshest of punishments.

As the two girls grow older, their paths diverge, but their stories remain intertwined. Sarah becomes an advocate for the abolition cause, talking at meetings and writing pamphlets with her sister, Nina, eventually stumbling upon the suffragette cause when their public speaking becomes suppressed by their gender. And Hetty continues to work for the Grimke family, but continues to dream of freedom.

In her closing note, Sue Monk Kidd informs her reader that the story is based on a true story - that of Sarah and Angelina Grimke, sisters who fought for abolition and suffrage, tending against their Southern upbringing. Much poetic license has been used, including Hetty's life, adding an element of contrast to the story of the wealthy white woman. The author brings in much historical information, adding volume and texture to her account of life in nineteenth century America.

And the writing is simply beautiful - within the first few pages you have been transported back two hundred years, and you can see every detail, every stitch that Hetty sews. One line that particularly stood out for me was towards the end of the book, where Hetty describes her aged mistress: "She has lines around her eyes like dart seams and silver thread in her hair, but she was the same."

Their stories are of hardship and tragedy, but their hope is uplifting. Sue Monk Kidd notes that the records show that Sarah was more reluctant about some of her actions than this novel suggests, but in a time when it must have felt like the whole world was against them, I consider Sarah's bravery and Hetty's determination to be inspiring.

My Name is Parvana

My Name is Parvana
Deborah Ellis
Oxford, OUP, 2014, 240p

Sometimes, stories can be very difficult to read, especially those based in fact. Deborah Ellis carries out thorough research before writing, visiting refugee camps across Russia and Pakistan to hear the stories of people just like her protagonist, Parvana.

Parvana is being held captive by the American army in Afghanistan, and is refusing to talk. She is accused of bombing her own school, which was run by her mother and run for the education of local girls. Parvana is a well-educated, intelligent young girl, but the American army simply see her as another threat. The novel jumps back and forth between Parvana's imprisonment and her time at school, explaining how she has been mistaken for a terrorist.

My Name is Parvana follows on from previous novels by Deborah Ellis, including The Breadwinner. These previous stories told of Parvana's journey as a refugee, but now she has a home and a purpose. Yet, not everyone sees the education of women as a positive, empowering force for good. Parvana and her family are threatened and feared, and have a lot of work to do to prove their value.

I enjoyed reading this novel because the language was accessible and the characters were likeable. I like that it jumped back and forth between past and present, meaning there was constanly something happening. I was not hugely gripped by the story, but I cannot articulate why.

Especially seeing as Parvana is such an inspirational protagonist: brave and self-assured, despite all she is up against. Her story is harrowing but honest. Ellis is not writing to evoke emotion - this story is no tear-jerker - but writes to inform. Her novels are topical and relevant, making real an experience that is unimaginable for many of her readers.

The Wall

The Wall
William Sutcliffe
London, Bloomsbury, 2014, 286p

I have been very slow about making my way through the Carnegie shortlist this year, but have stepped up my game this half term with The Wall.

Joshua has lived alongside the wall for many years, with a vague awareness of what might be on the other side. One day, he discovers a tunnel that leads to the other side, a forbidden territory for people from his side of the wall. There, he finds terror, violence, and kindness, and his newfound knowledge changes his life forever.

The Wall is a dark, dangerous novel about segregation. Sutcliffe has created a ficitonal world losely based on the Israeli settlements on the West Bank, and he explores the issue of racial prejudice that is ingrained in this and so many other areas.

The journey of discovery that Joshua embarks upon is full of danger and pulls his already fragile family unit apart. Joshua's father passed away in a military incident relating to the wall, and his stepfather is a brute, angry force. Joshua tries to bridge the gap through helping those who showed him kindness, but is simply punished and rebuked by his family. Those on his side of the wall are protected from the dangers and repression, but what he sees when he discovers the tunnel can never be unseen.

To see the rest of my Carnegie reviews, click here.

When the Guns Fall Silent

When the Guns Fall Silent
James Riordan
Oxford, OUP, 2013, 153p

The events of Christmas Day in 1914 is the stuff of legends. It is written about, adapted for television, and heralded as one of the great symbols of humanity.

When the Guns Fall Silent is another account of this day. When veteran Jack takes his grandson to see the graves in France, he finds the grave of one of his friends has been recently visited. Upon the memorial sits a picture of a group of young men on Christmas Day in 1914, Brits and Germans together on that unique day. Jack sees a face he recognises, and visions of the war return to him.

This novel recounts how Jack ended up on the front line, even though he was too young to be there. When war breaks out and young men join the army, Jack and his friend Harry are recruited to the Portsmouth FC first team. Part of their commitment involves training with the military reserves, and the boys soon find themselves beaten down and remoulded into soldiers. Taking pride in their new-found heroism, they sign up and are shipped to France, where the horrors of war are like nothing they could have imagined.

Then, on Christmas Day, a German soldier plants a Christmas tree, and soon the two sides have agreed a temporary ceasefire. It is almost unimaginable that they can go back to killing one another the next day.

The trenches have become such a vivid image in the minds of the public that Riordan does not need to waste time describing the grime and horror, but instead can concentrate on the development of Jack and his German comrades. He also fills the book with facts about the war - little snippets of information about the suffrage movement and war propaganda disguised as fictional elements of the story.

When the Guns Fall Silent is a touching, beautifully written story; perfectly timed for republication this year.

A Farewell to Arms

A Farewell to Arms
Ernest Hemingway
London, Arrow Books, 2004, 293p

This is a rather delayed write up, considering I actually read this novel about a month ago for the second of our staff book club meetings - a lovely gathering to discuss Hemingway. Last time, we realised that none amongst us had read the American great before, so we set out to rectify this!

Frederic Henry is an American ambulance driver for the Italian army during World War One. On a simple level, A Farewell to Arms is about Henry's love affair with an English nurse, Catherine Barkley; but that is only one small part of this novel. It is a vivid story about conflict, masculinity and the beauty of Italy.

Having read so much children's literature recently, Hemingway's prose was initially somewhat hard to get into; but as I read on, I found myself engrossed in the long, descriptive passages and the conversational style. What I particularly enjoyed was the fact that he did not indicate who was talking in sections of dialogue, leaving it up to you to work out who was saying what. As I got to know the characters better I could work out who was talking by their style of speech and the voices I had created for them in my mind.

This is not a particularly action-packed novel. Sometimes, when people were killed, it took a moment for me to realise because nothing was written literally. The realities of war felt distant from the protagonists, as if they could protect themselves by blocking out the death and devastation around them.  

In terms of the plotting, this novel is a perfect model of realist writing - opening a window into the life of a soldier, viewing for a short while, and then closing. More modern fiction tends to be preoccupied with the psychology of the characters, embedding flash backs to contextualise their childhood. I found myself wondering how Henry had ended up in Italy, and Hemingway never satisfied my curiosity, but I really appreciate this. Instead, A Farewell to Arms presented me with a perfect snippet of the lives of Frederic and Catherine.

Great Mysteries of the World

Richard Hammond's Great Mysteries of the World
London, Random House, 2013, 424p

Non-fiction isn't really my forte, which is why it has taken me some time to read this book, dipping in and out over the last few weeks.

However, it has been a very interesting read, if not somewhat superstitious. Richard Hammond has set out to uncover the truth behind some of the greatest mysteries, from the Loch Ness monster to the Roswell Incident. He outlines the context behind peculiar incidents or legends, travelling across the world to solve them.

The book is broken up into four sections, looking at creatures, alien encounters, underwater mysteries, and treasure trails. And at the back, there is space for the reader to draw their own conclusions based on the evidence provided and their own beliefs. The version I have of this book is a large hardback, though I expect Random House will soon release each section of this book in smaller parts; having a celebrity face on the cover never hurts!

I remain a little sceptical about many of these mysteries, though I imagine it will excite the minds of some young readers. Hammond struggles to find much original information about any of the incidents or legends through his travels, shedding no additional light on the truth. It all felt a but like a good excuse for a series of exotic holidays.

Stories of World War One

Stories of World War One
ed. Tony Bradman
London, Orchard, 2014, 304p

Memorials to the First World War will come in many forms this year, but Tony Bradman is one of the greatest editors of short stories today. This collection has vast variety and a great selection of authors to read.

My favourite story was The Men Who Wouldn't Sleep by Tim Bowler, which is about a young boy who volunteers at a hospital for returning soldiers. There, Robbie meets Bert and Jimmy, two injured soldiers. Bert is incredibly protective of Jimmy, who sits in a trance like state, unable or unwilling to talk to anyone. Robbie is assigned to sit and talk with Jimmy - at first, he struggles to know what to say, but soon he finds himself sharing his worries about his father, who is lost in France. It is a touching, tragic story; one of many in this collection that stay with you long after you have finished reading.

There are stories set on the home front and on the front line, in France, England, Ireland and elsewhere. Some are about the young and others are about older soldiers. Each of the authors tackles a different element of war, such as the separation of childhood sweethearts, mothers' fears about their sons, and young boys in the trenches. There is a brilliant contribution from Children's Laureate, Malorie Blackman, which explores the relationship between two half brothers on the front line, torn between their love for each other and masculine pride.

Although I didn't feel that the collection began with a particularly strong story, I liked the way these stories brought the war into the present, making it accessible for modern teenage readers. There is a story for everyone in this book, though you may have to read them all to find the one for you.

Stay Where You Are and Then Leave

Stay Where You Are and Then Leave
John Boyne
London, Random House, 2013, 247p

I love the way John Boyne writes - it is so poetical and descriptive that you become completely lost in his world. His novels are so emotional, taking you on a journey of love, loss and hope.

Alfie's fifth birthday is overshadowed by the outbreak of the First World War. At the last minute, most of his friends find they cannot come to his party, caught up in their own family concerns. And those who do attend are distracted by the impending stress and fear of war. The next morning, Alfie's father volunteers, convinved it will be over by Christmas. But four years later, he still isn't home and his letters have stopped coming.

Although his mother tells him his father is away on a special secret mission, Alfie is convinced his father is dead. Until one day, shining shoes in Kings Cross station, he accidentally reads the papers of a  doctor and discovers his father is actually in a hospital in Ipswitch. He sets out to bring him home, but finds himself totally unprepared for the impact the war has had on the mind of his father.

John Boyne is the kind of writer who manages to make you completely adore a character before putting them in a situation of drama and heart ache. Stay Where You Are and Then Leave is slow paced in the early chapters, setting a scene of wartime poverty and family separation. Alfie is a fundamentally good young boy - perhaps a little idealised in contrast to many teenage protagonists of today - but he is determined to go about his secret mission alone rather than asking his mother or neighbours for help and advise, which innevitably cannot end as well as he hopes. So as the reader, you watch helplessly as Alfie stumbles into territory from which you are convinced will only end in tears.

Today, we have a much better understanding of shell shock than doctors had in the early twentieth century. We can empathise with the distress of battle and the struggle faced by soldiers returning to everyday life. But people continue to suffer from the psychological effects of warfare, and not all families are as lucky as Alfie's.

Why Spacemen Can't Burp

Why Spacemen Can't Burp
Mitchell Symons
London, Random House, 2013, 209p

The format of Mitchell Symons' non-fiction books is pretty flawless: filled with comedy and illustrations, sampling facts in bite sized chunks, with answers to questions you never even thought to ask.

In this book, Symons picks the brains of scientists, historians and sociologists to better understand why it is considered unlucky to spill salt, why people say "I'll raincheck", and who invented crisps.

I learnt lots of new facts reading this book, though I cannot really remember anything specific now. This is the kind of book you dip in and out of over time, readign a few facts here and there over the course of several weeks.

As such, it is ideal non-fiction reading for reluctant teenagers or high ability younger children. Symons is accessible and friendly, admitting when he has struggled to find an answer and engaging extensively with his audience - most of the questions in this book have been sent in by his readers, giving us an interesting insight into the mind of the curious teenager...

The Adoption Papers

The Adoption Papers
Jackie Kay
Tarsat, Bloodaxe, 2013, 64p

I don't think I have enjoyed a collection of poetry as much as this in some time. It has such depth and details, and is of an incredibly consistent high standard. 

Jackie Kay's collection of poem explores families, romantic love and issues of society. The collection begins with the autobiographical story of Kay's adoption through the eyes of her biological mother, her adopted mother and herself. It discusses her feelings of abandonment and her confusion about her identity, though, as life often works out, comes to no solid conclusions. She also describes the issue of race as a black child raised by white parents in Scotland in the 1960s and 70s. The story is told through poems, pinpointing significant moments along the journey. It is incredible how she engages with the inner thoughts of both her mothers. 

Following this engaging story are a series of other poems that look at a whole range of themes and subjects. One that stood out to me was 'I try my absolute best', a poem about the difficulty of doing right by your child. She talks about feeding her baby healthy food and avoiding things full of chemicals, just to find out that everything you thought was okay is in fact ridden with potential hazards.

Her ability to articulate political issues and social discontent is profoundly powerful. 'Severe Gale 8' looks at elements of society (the NHS, the economy, etc.) in a series of chapter-like poems, using repetition to reinforce the stagnation of social change.

I love Jackie Kay's style: she is approachable and accessible, even if you have not lived the life she has. Her subjects become universal through the way she writes as she makes it alright for you to have experienced self-doubt or to have questioned who you are. The Adoption Papers is a poignant, modern and engaging. 

Itch

Itch
Simon Mayo
London, Corgi, 2012, 407p

Over the years, my knowledge of the period table of elements has deteriorated somewhat due to lack of revision. But in Itch, the elements come to life, being grounded in everyday objects like toothpaste and earings, and demonstrating unimaginably cool uses.

Itchingham Lofte is not an academic genius or hipster-esque geek. He is not popular or the teacher's pet. He is normal. He gets bored at school and gets into trouble at home. But he is an element collector - gathering materials that contain each of the elements in the periodic table. And sometimes, his experimentations end up causing quite a lot of mess, and sometimes minor fires.

Then, his dealer, Cake, has something new for him - a material that doesn't match the atomic make up of anything Itch has seen before. He's curious, and takes the rock into school to show his teacher in the hope they might shed some light on this strange object. But the rock soon makes it's way into the wrong hands and attracts the attention of some shifty businesses, convinced that this rock is a new element - and a highly radioactive one, at that! Along with his cousin Jack and his sister, Itch has to end what he started, and embarks on an adventure to keep this dangerous material away from anyone who might use it for evil.

Simon Mayo (yes, that Simon Mayo) is an incredible writing talent. He has made science accessible and exciting for someone who had no more than a GCSE-level interest in the subject. I really cannot recommend this enough, and will be forcing it upon my science department as soon as possible!

And in addition to the book itself (which, it is worth noting, is part of a new series), Mayo has made great use of social media and has gone online to link Itch up to the modern world of readers.

Stormclouds

Stormclouds
Brian Gallagher
Dublin, O'Brien, 2013, 218p

I don't know a lot about the conflict in Ireland over the last fifty years, and am always surprised at the lack of teaching of this subject. Fortunately, we librarians can always count on engaging and fact-based fiction to teach teenagers a little about the things they don't learn in the classroom.

In the 1960's, conflict between the loyalists and nationalists is rife. Emma and Dylan move to Belfast because their father, a journalist, has been sent there to report on current events. They are sociable and outgoing kids, so unsurprisingly make friends quickly. Emma meets Maeve at her running club, while Dylan meets Sammy at football. When the siblings bring their new friends together, they find that both have deep-seated suspicions about each other: Maeve is from a Catholic nationalist background, whereas Sammy is a Protestant unionist. With time, they begin to realise that they aren't that different after all; but the rest of Belfast are not so quick to change their views, and conflict breaks out across the city. 

Stormclouds has a clever moral message about prejudice and difference: the children put the adults to shame with their ability to see past religion and politics. The brash aggressiveness that leads to street warfare is distressing, especially when contrasted to the friends' open mindedness and love for one another. This is a brilliant, gripping book, teaching it's young audience about an important and ongoing political conflict. 

British

Weird World of Wonders: British
Tony Robinson
Basingstoke, Macmillan, 2012, 156p

I had thought this new series of non-fiction books for children might have been similar to the Horrible Histories collection, and was setting myself up for the same format, when in fact it was oddly different, and I cannot pinpoint exactly how.

This Weird World of Wonders book is about the British, charting the history of the Empire from it's rise in the Victorian era to it's fall in the last one hundred years. Weirdly, this book begins by talking more about the Spanish than the British, but Robinson does explain why this is. There is a lot of information in this little book with pages crammed with drawings, jokes and facts.

But it does not have quite the spark of so many of its contemporaries. The comedy is rather too much like dad jokes, and there are no little diversions and snippets of fun facts. Unlike some similary non-fiction books, a young reader could not jump in and out, as the information is too linear.

I think a lot of interesting things are happening in the world of non-fiction for young readers, and this does not engage with some of the best methods and tropes available, despite offering some brilliant factual information.

Dodger

Dodger
Terry Pratchett
Corgi, 2013, 

I blame my father for my love of Terry Pratchett. 

Dodger, however, is no typical Pratchett. It is about a street boy with a big heart, who knows the sewers like the back of his hand. When he rescues a young girl from being beaten, he becomes involved with the hoi polloi of London, with whom he sets out to understand how this girl has ended up in this situation 

It isn't Discworld, and it is written for a younger audience. This story is historical, very thoroughly well-researched, and explicitly Dickensian. The novel reads very much like a Dickens novel, with summaries at the start of each chapter, lots of old Victorian slang, and the exploration of social issues such as poverty and children's education. And on top of that, Charles Dickens himself is a main character, eager to turn Dodger's life into one of his best sellers. 

The novel is funny and light-hearted, even with it's moral message about social inequality and related injustices. Dodger is a brilliant protagonist, impressing everyone with his fast thinking and integrity. He's the kind of guy anyone would be lucky to know. 

But I feel unsure about the target audience for this novel - without a good knowledge of the context, it might be lost on the younger reader, whilst many adult readers adore it! 

Last year, I saw Dodger adapted for the stage by the Studio Theatre Club in Abingdon, and both my dad and I loved it. It had been long enough since then that the story felt somewhere between returning to an old friend and reading something new. Dodger is a fairly niche novel, but I imagine lovers of Dickens and lovers of Pratchett will find something to enjoy here. And I am a lover of both. 

What Are We Fighting For?

What Are We Fighting For?
Brian Moses and Roger Stevens
London, Macmillan, 2014, 112p

Seeing as this year marks the centenary of The Great War, I am anticipating many publications to deal with this subject. What Are We Fighting For is the first I have come across: a varied, original collection of poems written and collated by Brian Moses and Roger Stevens.

At first, I thought this collection would be an anthology of existing poems, and was disappointed to find that it was in fact some new poems written by contemporary poets. I felt a little concerned that they had no authority on the subject and that the writing would be idealised or exaggerated.

But I was pleasantly surprised to find poetry that covered a variety of subjects in a factual and informative way. The collection felt a little like a history book, giving information about life in the trenches, the causes of conflict, and what things were like for those people left at home. Some of the poems are supported with snippets of factual information, explaining what realities the stories relate to. And each poem is just that - a little story about a person or a place or an event, taken from history and embelleshed in a more accessible manner.

This book contains poems about all conflict - from the First and Second World War, right through to modern day conflicts. The final section seems more childlike and innocent, exploring the world through the eyes of young characters who do not see war in their back garden, but are sometimes vaguely aware of world news and battles fought overseas. There is even a poem about a playground fight, as Moses and Stevens cast doubt on conflict at all levels.

So despite not meeting my initial expectations, I found this collection of new poems to be touching, leaving the reader with food for thought; though I expect there to be a lot more high quality writing on this subject to be revealed over the next few years.