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. 

Attachments

Attachment
Rainbow Rowell

I needed this book as my holiday read - something light weight, uncomplicated and vaguely funny. I just wish it had been a little less predictable.

Lincoln is employed at a newspaper as the guy who checks the email filter for red flags. It's 1999, and everyone is paranoid about the millenium bug and about the potential evil of emailing, long before reading other people's emails became the job of the government. The emails of two friends, Beth and Jennifer, catch his attention and his imagination - he loves the way Beth writes, she makes him laugh. But before he realises, he knows too much about her to approach her; plus, she already has a rock star boyfriend.

Rainbow Rowell is a great writer - easy to read and very witty (though there is something odd about Lincoln falling for Beth over the way she writes, as if Rowell is celebrating her own amazing talent for words). I don't know what I had hoped for in terms of predictability, but as with any romantic comedy, the guy typically bags the girl, and a little bit of me had hoped that Lincoln's wishes wouldn't be fulfilled.

Lincoln is praised across social media as one of the greatest boyfriends of all time - and he truly is dreamy: clever, sensitive and apparently rather handsome - but his modesty and lack of self-belief seemed too put on, as if Rowell was trying just a little too hard to write the dream man.

Nevertheless, I cannot help but confess that I enjoyed reading this - if you are looking for a holiday read that is a little more high brow than the norm, try Attachment.

The Adventures of Superhero Girl

The Adventures of Superhero Girl
Faith Erin Hicks

This unexpected treat I found in the children's section of Cardiff Central Libraries, during a day I spent "researching" the resources there. (I was finding materials for story time and got distracted in the graphic section.)

Superhero Girl is a completely terrible superhero, especially compared to her brother, who takes on the world and handles the fame of his status with ease and composure.

And yet it is Superhero Girl that I would like to be - terrible with romance, impoverished by lack of income, and pretty useless at maintaining her secret identity. Her missions are somewhat mediocre - rescuing cats from trees, placating her overzealous mother, etc. - but that makes it all the more brilliant when her arch-nemesis finds himself chosing between continuing in a career of evil and a more conventional profession.

This comic stemmed from a blog, which you can find here: http://superherogirladventures.blogspot.co.uk/; and author Faith Erin Hicks is very vocal and entertaining on social media. She is definitely worth following.

Yes Please

Yes Please
Amy Poehler

My sister and I share a love for Amy Poehler like no other shared love (except maybe that felt towards our parents and brother... maybe). 

I stumbled upon Parks and Recreations as 30 Rock neared it's final series, as I searched for a surrogate for my nerdy affections. Somehow, I managed to convince my sister to watch it, and now we constantly quote lines and recall clips at each other. 

Yes Please is Amy Poehler's biography. She recounts the giggliness of her youth, the excitement of her early career, and the complexity of trying to have it all. 

I have known for some time that I like the way Poehler writes, but this engages with a different literary form. In her biography, Poehler is honest and witty and generous towards her reader. Her style is that of a reluctant talker - she clearly prefers to make believe as Leslie Knope than to open up about herself. Every sentence raises more questions than it answers, revealing little snippets of her life but masking her darkest secrets. 

Throughout the book, she discusses how difficult she found the process of writing, praising her friends who have helped her along the way. She also jumps between trains of thought - you embark on a chapter about her school days only to be led on a tangent towards an incident involving her beloved improvisation troupe, the Upright Citizen's Brigade. 

Leslie Knope and Amy Poehler are both completely inspiring and amazing individuals, but this biography reveals just how talented an actor Poehler is - she is not as similar to Knope as I had expected, and I love that about her. I find myself reassured by the fact that she suffers from anxiety, and inspired by her attempts to be the best version of herself.

If you find yourself looking for something to read, read this. 

Not That Kind of Girl

Not That Kind of Girl
Lena Dunham
London, Fourth Estate, 2014, 265p

When I found myself painfully jealous of a friend who was reading this book that I realised I had to get a copy. Lena Dunham's biography has caused some controversy already, and although I am not a religious watcher of 'Girls', I must confess I am intrigued by her. 

Not That Kind of Girl is a funny, intelligent and sometimes disturbing account of Dunham's life so far. She talks about health, family and romance, and everything in between. She tells the reader she is a girl with a "keen interest in having it all", and this book is her story from "the front line of that struggle".

Dunham's youth is uniquely peculiar to me. She was born to artistic, liberal parents in New York, and her eccentricity and individuality have always been encouraged. In places, it sounds like she has low self-esteem (for example, when she discusses the common plight of the young woman who settles for a non-relationship with a guy who is clearly not good enough); and at other points, she explodes with self-assurance and good advice. 

I had been warned that this biography is far from uplifting, but it was darker than I had expected, with confessions about her reliance on her therapist and descriptions of rubbish relationships. But within those moments that make your heart break, there are episodes that make you laugh out loud. Mostly, I simply admire her honesty. 

I am conscious I am going through a phase of reading biographies of this kind - those of young, successful, strong women in comedy (see my recent review of Mindy Kaling's book). And I cannot wait to read Amy Poehler's recent release! With each of these women, I find some things to relate to and some things with which I disagree, but what my readings are demonstrating is that the female experience is varied and unique to each person - how can anyone stereotype about women when we are all so different?

Thanks to Jay for inspiration.

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)
Mindy Kaling
New York, Ebury, 2013, 223p

I hugely enjoyed my time with Mindy Kaling. Part of me wants to call her my guilty pleasure, but I have nothing to be ashamed of - I love her writing and acting; if I was a girly girl, I would want to be like her: self assured, embarrassed by nothing, beautiful. 

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? is Kaling's hilarious biography. She recounts her school days, her wild ambition coupled with boring jobs, and her eventual success when she joined the writers of The Office. Her book combines extended lists with long prose accounts, and carries the air of someone trying not to give advice (and sort of failing). 

Kaling possesses a ridiculous amount of passion and knowledge about comedy, listing her favourite comedy moments and recounting friendships that just didn't work out because the other person wasn't as in to it as she is. Since writing this book, Kaling has created her own sitcom, The Mindy Project, and I would have loved this book to contain more of her crazy confessions about this.

A few days after having finished this book, I am still laughing as I recall little snippets of her humour. In particular, I have adopted Kaling's approach to jogging, which is to fantastise about imaginary revenge scenarios. Despite initially finding this idea hilarious, in practice it has proven to really occupy the mind and distract from the pain of running. 

Kaling is open and honest with her reader, telling her most awkward moments and biggest celebrity crushes. But throughout, she is explicitly happy with who she is - she is unapologetic and doesn't really care what anyone thinks, despite confessing to a fascinating with fashion and dieting, interests conventionally possessed by those who care too much what other people thinks. In this way, she has even challenged some of the subconscious presumptions I had about women. She doesn't try and claim that her experiences are the same as any other woman's experiences, and that is what I love most. 

Brand New Ancients

Brand New Ancients
Kate Tempest
London, Picador, 2013, 47p

I had the privilege of seeing Kate Tempest at the O2 in Oxford last Friday - apparently her first headline tour as a rapper. She was incredibly appreciative towards her audience, and her excitement was infectious. 

She is not just a rapper and a performance poet; she is a writer. Brand New Ancients won the Ted Hughes Prize for innovation in poetry - it is a modern, honest story about characters that Tempest says live and breathe in her mind. 

Tempest's narrative poem argues that we are all heroes of our own lives. She draws on traditional ideas about gods from classic mythology - heroes who were human, flawed, real. Then she creates her own contemporary heroes: men and women struggling with relationships; young people feeling disenfranchised; artists looking for their big break and barmaids seeking fulfillment. 

Within just a few pages, these characters become fully rounded beings. They feel anger, regret and love; lines between good and bad are blurred. 

Brand New Ancients is so clever and relevant. It tells the story of the kinds of individuals that young people can relate to; it is solid and grounded, avoiding all the abstract ideas and images we are spoon fed in the curriculum. 

And if this doesn't convince you to find out more about Kate Tempest, watch this video - how can you not want to read the genius that comes from this mind?!

Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?

Why Be Happy When You Can Be Normal?
Jeanette Winterson
London, Vintage, 2011, 230p

I have been rationing words on these last few days of my half term holiday. That is because I didn't want to rely on book swaps in hostels, since my luck with them proved to be limited. So over the last weekend of my adventure, I read and reread the Forward Book of Poetry 1994 (review coming soon), and I took my time enjoying Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?

Jeanette Winterson, author of Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit, is a clever and sharp writer, both of fiction and non fiction. I always find myself seeking out her commentaries in The Guardian and elsewhere, and everything I read leaves me feeling reassured that I am not alone, that life is a mad experience for all of us. 

Why Be Happy? is the sister book of the semi-autobiographical Oranges: Winterson confesses that her 1985 novel brushed over some of the harsher realities of her upbringing, including the creation of Elsie, the saviour of Oranges who makes Jeanette's harsh upbringing slightly softer. In reality, there was no Elsie. Winterson's childhood was full of explicitly repressive religious doctrine and nights locked out of the house, camped on the doorstep, as punishment for some odd crime, like reading. 

Despite only having six books in her house growing up, Winterson could not help but fall in love with words. She hid books under her mattress and learned stories by rote, just so she could indulge in the magic of literature and poetry. Her love for language is infectious, and by the end of the memoir I had a long list of things I wanted to read or return to. 

She also explores the challenges of suffering from depression, and explains the reality of finding her birth mother - a muddle of difficult administrative procedures resulting in a reunion she feels is rather less dramatic than typical reunion stories. 

What touched me most was Winterson's process of coming to understand her approach to love and relationships. Her feelings towards her adopted mother are impressively positive; she finds herself coming to the defense of Mrs Winterson whilst it is clear that her child-raising techniques were somewhat unconventional. And this has had an interesting effect on Winterson's adult life - in particular, the feeling that she is not wanted and does not deserve to be loved in the way many others think of being loved. 

This is the first book I have read more than once in years (other than Persuasion), and definitely the first book I have ever read when I started from the beginning again as soon as I had finished. It added something to the reading process that I have never experienced before - a feeling of familiarity, as I read words and scenes I had already stored in my memory, but some scenes shifted and altered as I read them a second time. 

And I think this made me love Jeanette Winterson's writing even more - she could make me laugh when I already knew the punch line; she made me put the book down and think about what I had just read; and when I knew what was coming later, I could see elements of her future being shaped in her youth. 

There was so much going on in this memoir, I do not have the space to explore it all in this blog, but it goes without saying that I think everyone should read this. Winterson's story makes it okay to be who you are, and I think we all need to be reminded of that every now and then. 

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves
Karen Jay Fowler
London, Serpents Tale, 2013, 308p

Last week, just before the winner of the Man Booker Prize was announced, the OSA staff book club met for ice cream and a discussion about one of the shortlisted books. 

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves is a very unusual novel. Before reading it, I knew there was a twist, but not what that twist was (I love that avid readers do not share plot spoilers with each other, and will strive to continue that here). 

The narrator is Rosemary, who commences her story at the midpoint. Having been a talkative child, she has learnt to start in the middle; but her story jumps back and forth so that it slowly reveals itself over time. As an adult, she confesses to being a lot more thoughtful and quiet than she was as a child, and that may be because she has not seen her brother or her sister for many years. Instead, she has carried the burden of her parent's loss (the details of said "loss" not being immediately explained), and has become an introverted young woman. 

Rosemary admits to being a biased and potentially unreliable narrator. She notes that,

 "An off-told story is like a photograph in a family album. Eventually it replaces the moment it was meant to capture."

As the novel progresses, it becomes clear that her childhood memories are not the same as her parent's maturer adult experiences. But the profound effect of her upbringing is clear in her adult life. 

Parts of this novel reminded me of William Fiennes, who writes autobiographical accounts with extracts of scientific information, about birds or epilepsy. Towards the end of We Are Completely Beside Ourselves, Karen Jay Fowler talks increasingly about animal rights; though in our book club, we felt there were a few too many inconsistencies between Rosemary's account of her experiences and her examples of cruelty to animals. 

One of our book club members managed to read the book twice, and said it revealed much more on a second reading. I enjoyed the experience of reading We Are Completely Beside Ourselves, but I am not sure if there were too many coincidences for my liking. 

Lady Windermere's Fan

Lady Windermere's Fan
Oscar Wilde
Diderot, 2012, 80p

My love for Oscar Wilde is now several years old, stemming from a trip to Dublin where I got to spend a little too much time around his jade statue. Though, in reality, my affection is probably older than that. 

Lady Windermere's Fan is one of Wilde's plays that I haven't read before, somewhat surprisingly. It is a comedy of errors, in which a happily married couple become suspicious of each other when a new and mysterious woman enters their lives. Talk around town is that Lord Windermere is keeping this woman, and Lady Windermere is shocked to find that all the evidence confirms this.

Simply, it is a matter of miscommunication, or lack of communication on Lord Windermere's part, as he tries and fails to protect the woman he loves.

Wilde's writing is full of humour and wit; a sort of comedy commentary about manners and status in late nineteenth century England. This mysterious woman, Mrs Erlynne, is initially condemned by society, gossiped about and speculated upon by the established members of highest social order. But when she is introduced in person, many are wooed by her charm and sweetness - suddenly their harsh words are forgotten and everyone wants to sing her praises. I imagine this was rather commonplace in Wilde's social circles.

One of my favourite Oscar Wilde quotes comes from this novel - and reading it in context made it all the more emotive:

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."

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.

Love in a Cold Climate

Love in a Cold Climate
Nancy Mitford
London, Folio Society, 1995, 241p

I only discovered Nancy Mitford rather recently, and now I am obsessed. Her wit; her unique observations of the world around her; her strange ability to write a whole book in which nothing much happens - all these things I adore.

Love in a Cold Climate is one of her better known novels. It is about the wealthy classes in between the wars, as they attempt to find their places in a world that is no longer dominated by old money and status. Linda almost watches from the outside - she is not fully immersed in this world where diamonds represent social standing, but is welcomed into it by friends and distant family. She has grown up with her aunt and uncle, spending time with the Montdores, a local family with a lonely and beautiful daughter, Polly. Much of the book is taken up with descriptions of tea parties and balls, with the drama focusing around the eventual romance between Polly and a much older widower. 

Linda's commentary, very much in the style of Mitford's other protagonists, is full of humour and subtle disdain, highlighting the ridiculousness of these eccentric families. Through the Montdore family, mothers fail and daughters rebel - children act as a temporary distraction when couples get a little bored of each other, and a constant disappointment with their inability to live up to expectations. 

And love is constantly revered, with everyone being "in love" with everyone else far more often than is necessary. But this madness is warm and touching, reminding the contemporary reader of a time long lost, never to return.

Americanah

Americanah
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
London, HarperCollins, 2013, 477p

Having grown up in Nigeria, Ifemelu has a fascinating outlook on life in America. She first moved there for university, and over the years, struggles through relative poverty to eventually achieve success with a blog in which she writes about race from the perspective of a 'non-American black'.
 
Meanwhile, in Nigeria, her high school boyfriend, Obinze, has become a wealthy business man, despite a short illegal stint in England. After many years apart, Ifemelu starts to wonder about Obinze, and when she decides to move back to Nigeria, she gets in touch with him. Americanah tells of their lives during the years spent apart, and builds towards a reunion that is perhaps not as simple as either would have wished.
 
Although sold as a love story, Americanah is about so much more than this couple's romance. A large chunk of the novel is dedicated to Ifemelu's observations about race in the USA, highlighting how complicated and unconsciously embedded racism is, and exploring the relationships between different minority groups. This is what I found most gripping - the social commentary about the way race and racism is percieved by the people who are most subject to it. Some of her thoughts made me cringe, embarassed that anyone could ever say or act in such a way; whilst other passages made me reflect on myself and my behaviours, wondering if I had made such ignorant mistakes. And, equally fascinating as her experiences in America were her experiences on returning to Nigeria having been away for so long, faced with a new, different sort of prejudice.
 
But in becomming enthralled by Ifemelu's commentary, I found myself attached to the character, willing her relationship with Obinze to succeed. Yet, for me, the romance pales in comparison to the story of their journey to the point of reunion.

I love Adichie's style of writing - it is direct and clear, and she effectively balances the voices of Obinze and Ifemelu, allowing both to tell their own stories through an omniscient third person narrative. Her novels are long (and I cannot wait to read another), but they do not feel heavy or difficult; instead, they are a delightful breeze on which to float.

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.

Pigeon Pie

Pigeon Pie
Nancy Mitford
London, Capuchin, 2012, 159p

Last year, my mother read an extended biography of the Mitford sisters, and regularly updated me on the information she has learned about the family of socialites. I was intrigued, so when I stumbled upon a novel by one of that multitude, I thought it might be time I learned more.

Sophia Garfield is a sophisticated young woman of the upper class at the outbreak of the Second World War. She lives with her husband, with whom she has a marvelous arrangement that involves Sophia having a lover and he entertaining a woman who comes across as a religious lunatic. When she accidentally stumbles upon a secret within her house, Sophia is enlisted as a spy, and finds herself torn between the desire to show off to her friends and an uncertainty about who she can trust.

I knew I'd love Pigeon Pie from the opening line - it is witty, intelligent, and sharp. Although Nancy lived the high life, she clearly found it very entertaining and uses the upper classes as great fuel from which to be inspired. In part, you can see her own experiences in the novel, as she laughs at the ridiculousness of those Brits who supported the Nazi. She mocks the selfishness and naivety of those who sit in the Ritz and drink tea whilst discussing politics, when they seem to be so oblivious of what is really taking place in Germany. 

The whole novel feels a little like a farce, with Sophia's strange domestic set up, the way she trips and falls into a career in espionage, and the coming and going of her friends in parliament. And yet, beneath the comedy is a serious commentary on national socialism and the outbreak of war in 1939. 

Transformatrix

Transformatrix
Patience Agbabi
Edinburgh, Payback, 2000, 78p

No poet packs such a punch as Patience Agbabi. From the opening line of this collection, she calls her reader to battle, seeps rhythm through their bones, and empowers one to be strong. 

Transformatrix contains a series of poems designed for performance - reading them in your head is not good enough. They are written to be shouted and sung, with unusual rhythm and unconventional rhyme that only reveals itself through the spoken word. 

The collection explores Agbabi's observations about contemporary society - about race, poverty, femininity and sexuality. Some are funny and some are angry, but all are passionate.

The first poem is one of my favourites - 'Prologue'. As with a novel, the first line of a poetry anthology should grip you and make you want to read more, and with 'Prologue', Agbabi has written a poem full of pizzaz and joy. To read it aloud, you can indulge in the magic of language as the words roll off your tongue, each carefully crafted and executed. You can feel the influence of British music and culture, 

The book is broken down into sections; the focus of many being women - powerful women, subordinated women, women in love. Each little poem tells it's own story, and when collected together in sections, each part of the book tells a wider story. As a whole, Transformatrix is uplifting, exciting and invigorating. 

Instructions for a Heatwave

Instructions for a Heatwave
Maggie O'Farrell
London, Headline, 2013, 324p


On this gloriously warm weekend, I found myself reading a novel about the infamous heatwave of 1976. Sat in the sun, I was taken from London to New York to Ireland, invited into the lives of the Riordan family on the day their father leaves the house and never returns.

Michael Francis, Monica and Aoife haven't spoken to each other in years, having taken themselves world apart. All three have angry memories about their childhoods, and have chosen to avoid their siblings in their adult lives. But when their mother, Gretta, calls to say their father has disappeared, they must put the past behind them to bring him home. 

This is the most recent book I have read as part of the staff book club and, having never read any Maggie O'Farrell before, I had expected it to be one of those self-indulgent stories about middle class families full of secrets. And yes, whilst it is about a middle class family with secrets, it is brilliantly written and full of warmth. 

O'Farrell's characterisation is astonishing - the plot plays out over just three days, leaving her plenty of room to develop fully rounded and realistic individuals. Gretta, for example, is a lonely and desperate woman, raised Irish Catholic and shocked by some of the choices her children have made. Her pride is overwhelming; but what I love most is the fact O'Farrell has made her one of those mothers who would take to an empty room if she thought there was a chance someone was listening. 

The Irish Catholic heritage has a strong impact upon the family - strangely, it makes them all proud and guilty in equal measure. But the fact that the Riordan family are so multi-dimensional makes for an interesting and reflective novel - one that I particularly enjoyed reading whilst sat in the sun. 

A Streetcar Named Desire

A Streetcar Named Desire
Tenessee Williams
London, Methuen, 2009, 90p

What I like most about reading a play is that it can so often be done in the space of a day. And in that time, with a play like A Streetcar Named Desire, you can go from the comfort of your living room to the streets of Louisiana.

Blanche DuBois is visiting her sister, Stella, and her new husband, Stanley. She is a fragile, dreamy woman who is shocked to find her sister, once a Southern belle, is living in a dingy flat in New Orleans. To Blanche, Stanley seems aggressive and common, but Stella is smitten, and though they fight often and loudly, they make up with sweet kisses and tenderness. But the addition of Blanche to Stanley and Stella's household puts a strain on the couple, and it becomes increasingly apparent that Blanche may not be telling the truth about her visit.

Tenessee Williams' play is gritty and dramatic, contrasting Stanley's rough manners with Blanche's fragile state of mind. To Stanley, Blanche appears to be a compulsive liar, though she is suffering from mental health problems and seems to have a fantastical way of rationalising her past.

After I read the book, I watched the 1951 movie with Vivien Leigh and Marlon Brando, which added another level of depth and drama to the play. Brando's performance - borish and sensual - is the complete antithesis of Leigh's scatty and angelic Blanche. And between the two sits the marvellous Kim Hunter (Stella), torn between sister and lover.

Plus, Brando is incredibly hot.

The Handmaid's Tale

The Handmaid's Tale
Margaret Atwood
London, Vintage, 1985, 324p

This is one of those books I have been meaning to read for a long time - the kind of book my non-librarian friends condemn me for not having read. But at last, I can stop feeling guilty - instead, I now feel haunted by one of the darkest novels I have ever read.

In the Republic of Gilead, the roles of all are clearly defined by a strict social structure. Commanders and their wives occupy places of power, served by Marthas and Handmaids. Any rebels are swiftly removed from society, the punishment typically being death. Offred is a Handmaid, and her role is to enable procreation - she's are subject to harsh rules about sexuality and sensuality, dressed always in long dark robes.

But a repressive state does not prevent Offred of dreaming of her past and hoping for the future. She had a child, once, and a husband, and longs to be reunited with them; but fear is a powerful deterrent.

Margaret Atwood defines her writing as speculative fiction, as, unlike science fiction, the world she creates could really happen. As Offred describes, the transition from the contemporary society in which her reader lives into the Republic was slow and smooth, beginning with identity cards and scienfitic developments in relation to DNA. As such, the world Atwood has created is plausible, it could become our reality in the future.

The Handmaid's Tale is a sharp, perceptive novel about structures of power in modern America. Atwood explores issues of sexuality and desire, highlighting the impossibility of a 'moral' state, in part due to the complexity of defining what is moral. Her prose is incredibly witty and readable, drawing you into Offred's world and haunting you with the possibility of this dark, repressive future - and slowly revealing how it came to be.

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.