My Swordhand is Singing

My Swordhand is Singing
Marcus Sedgwick
London, Orion, 2006, 194p

I have finally been able to return to the realms of the Gothic - horrah! 

Peter lives in the a small village, on the edge of the woods, with his father. Both are woodcutters, though with his old age setting in and his reliance on alcohol, Peter's father does not contribute much. 

Chust is the first village Peter and his father have settled in for some time, having previously preferred to be on the move. Peter is glad of the respite, happy to be falling for the prettiest girl in the village; but he is conscious that everything is not as it seems. There is talk of dead husbands returning to their wives, and as winter draws nearer, the superstitious townsfolk take to decorating their homes against the Shadow Queen. 

My Swordhand is Singing is packed full of drama and drowning in Gothic horror. The whole of my English department love him, asking every year if I can get him to visit for World Book Day (no luck yet! - he's a busy man). This novel is part of the year nine curriculum at OSA, and I am always impressed by the number of students who come looking for further Sedgwick reads. 

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.

Rooftoppers

Rooftoppers
Katherine Rundell
London, Faber & Faber, 2013, 278p

As I neared the end of this book, I had no idea how it would possibly come to it's conclusion with so few remaining pages. After a slow and leisurely build up, I was impressed that everything managed to come to a conclusion so quickly and smoothly. 

When Sophie is orphaned in a shipwreck, she is adopted by the eccentric and loving Charles. He teaches her about books and dreams and she learns to never ignore a possible. But as she grows up, the authorities become increasingly concerned about whether it is appropriate for Charles to remain her guardian, as she is less feminine than is expected of her time. So hiding on rooftops from the authorities, Sophie sets out to find her mother, presumed lost in the wreck, but Sophie still has hope. 

The opening of the novel is rather slow of pace - you are introduced to Charles and Sophie and their little domestic absurdities, which I loved. For Charles, education is the most important thing to distill in his ward, but the children's authorities have other ideas about how a girl should be raised. Considering the novel is caused Rooftoppers, much of the book was given over to Sophie's life with Charles, so that I found myself missing Charles' peculiarities once Sophie took to the roofs. 
  This is Katherine Rundell's debut novel, so it can be forgiven that the balance between introduction and "rooftopping" did not seem quite right; especially since her prose style is so inviting and soothing, written like a classic children's fairytale with feisty modern characters and a dangerous path of adventure. 

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

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. 

All the Truth That's In Me



All the Truth That's In Me
Julie Berry
Dorking, Templar, 2013, 266p

When Judith returns home, her tongue cut out and the last two years a mystery to all around her, she is outcast by her society and her family, subject to looks of horror and pity. As the town talks, there is only one person she wishes to listen to her - Lucas, the boy she has always loved.

Set in the early American settlements, All the Truth That's In Me is a haunting, dark novel about abduction and young sexuality. Judith is victimised by those in her town, who assume her kidnapping was of a sexual nature; and she is continuously haunted by the feeling that men only want her as a silent object. As the story unfolds, it becomes apparent that there is more mystery to Judith's story than the townsfolk have presumed.

The novel is told in first person by Judith, who often narrates as if she is speaking directly to Lucas, pleading for his sympathy and understanding. The chapters are very short - some only a sentence long - meaning reading is easy and swift.

I found myself quite caught up in the romance - Judith's longing is heartbreakingly beautiful, as she sits on the sidelines of Lucas' life. And she is a surprisingly strong protagonist, despite her many obstacles. She is brave and strong, fighting for justice and protecting the man she loves. If anything, Lucas seems weak in comparison.

I am finding this year's Carnegie list to be surprisingly dark, especially compared to the variety of the 2013 list - many of the books would not be typically suitable for teenage readers - yet I am enjoying the journey of shadowing.

To read more of my reviews of the 2014 Carnegie shortlist, click here.

The Eye of Neptune

Monster Odyssey: The Eye of Neptune
Jon Mayhew
London, Bloomsbury, 2013, 250p

Prince Dakker is thrilled to discover that his mentor and guardian, Count Oginski, has been secretly working on an underwater vehicle, the first ever sybmarine. When their home is attacked, Dakkar escapes on the submersible, pent on finding who is responsible and on getting Ogsinki back. Along the way, he faces dangerous foes, both human and sea-creatures, but worst of all is Cryptos, an sinister enemy who wants the submarine for himself.

During the first half of the book, Dakkar is on his own, chasing after the ship he suspects might have kidnapped his guardian. Despite having the whole ocean to play with, I found this section rather dull and lacking in creative originality. Then, Dakkar is joined by the feisty Georgia. whose uncle has been working with Oginski and has also gone missing. The young duo team up to discover the truth, and finally some dialogue is created, which adds some excitement to the book. But I still felt Georgia lacked personality, and was a bit of a prototype of the female sidekick rather than anything particularly new and exciting.

I mostly skim read this book - I just coundn't engage with it and I can't work out if I genuinely didn't like it because of the story or if I went into reading it with a negative attitude due to the shiny cover. Unfortunately, The Eye of Neptune was not the gripping adventure I had hoped it might be.

Doll Bones

Doll Bones
Holly Black
London, Doubleday, 2013, 244p

Zach's dad thinks he's too old to play with dolls. At twelve years old, Zach spends a lot of his time hanging out with Alice and Poppy, and together they embark on the most epic of adventures in the safety of their own back gardens. But when Zach's dad throws away all his toys, Poppy and Alice resort to borrowing the most valued of all their play toys, the Queen.

But the Queen has a secret, one she shares with the children by haunting their dreams. Her real name is Eleanor Kircher, and she died in 1895. Now, she wants to return home to her grave, and the children take it upon themselves to do this for the poor toy. So they set off in the dead of night, learning more about the dark history of Eleanor along the way.

Wrapped in a black cover with a horrifying illustration of a doll on the front, Doll Bones is made to cause nightmares. The Queen is a strange toy, and so much happens around her that is impossible to explain. Adults seem to see her as a human rather than a toy, and at night, the doll seems to come alive, moving unexpectedly whilst the children sleep.

This novel is not as haunting as some of the books I have read recently, though it is well written and has many spooky moments. Dolls are one of those objects that are conventionally terrifying, being inanimate and yet strangely alive. But this book caused no sleepless nights, which is arguably a very good thing!

There is more to this novel than the Gothic, and that is the physical and emotional journey that the friends take. They are all on the cusp of adulthood, soon to grow into teenagers and experience all the trials that brings; but they have this one last adventure together, and we, the reader, are lucky enough to be able to go with them.

To Kill a Mockingbird

To Kill a Mockingbird
Harper Lee
London, Arrow, 1997, 309p

I first read To Kill a Mockingbird in my teens, but a few weeks ago, when I saw the 1962 movie, I realised I couldn't remember anything about the book. So, whilst I holidayed in Hamburg this week, I picked up the classic and once again sank deep into the world of Scout and Jem. 

Scout and Jem are adventurous and curious children, but always stay within the limitations set by their househelp, Calpurnia, and their father, Atticus Finch. When they start hanging out with a boy called Dill, the children start pushing the boundaries of the rules, and seek out to lure their reclusive and potentially dangerous neighbour, Boo Radley, from his house. 

Meanwhile, Atticus is involved in a controversial case in court, defending a black man against the charge of the rape of a white girl from a poor family. All through town, Jem and Scout are subject to comments from classmates and neighbours, and Scout has to work hard to control her feisty temper and keep out of trouble. 

The relationship between Atticus and his children is something to be admired. They adore and respect him, despite some people outside the family thinking he lets them run wild and is bringing Scout up to be less than feminine. But Atticus feels safe and comforting; he is a brilliant role model, combining the right amount of intelligence, comedy and love. 

There is so much going on in To Kill a Mockingbird that I feel this blog does not give me the space to explore all the themes and storylines. I think my favourite element is Scout's narrative - young and sometimes naive, but always ready to learn and to try. She is inquisitive, always asking questions of her father that even he sometimes struggles to answer, and she loves her older brother even when he is growing into a young man and his hormones start to take over. Her world view is optimistic and vulnerable in equal measure, but through Scout, we see the evil in poverty, racism and domestic abuse, and understand how a little love can go a long way. 

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.

The Montgomery Murder

The London Murder Mysteries: The Montgomery Murder
Cora Harrison
London, Picadilly, 2010, 246p

Years of watching murder mysteries with my mother have led to a love of crime dramas. So when they are successfully created for a teenage audience, and set in Victorian London, we are onto an instant winner.

Alfie lives with his brother Sammy and his cousins in a Covent Garden cellar. They are children of the street, begging  and performing tricks with their loyal dog to bring in enough for food and rent, but they are savvy and knowledgable. When a murder happens in a nearby street, Alfie is recruited by Inspector Denham to find out the talk about town and solve the mystery.

Mr Montgomery is recently returned to his wife and son from India, where he owned a tea plantation. It seems the crime was not commited for theft, as the body still has many valuables about it. The initial suspect is an Indian boy whose father was hanged for stealing - is this boy out for revenge? But could it be the wife or son, their peaceful lives disrupted by the return of their breadwinner; or even the suspicious Butler, clearly an angry and dangerous man?

The story is led by the young protagonists, who work almost completely without the support of any adults. They manage to find ways into the Montgomery household through a connection with the scullery maid, and they use their knowledge of the city to find people with the answers they need. But the children increasingly find themselves at risk, drawing attention to themselves as they poke around in other people's business, eager to discover the truth.

Cora Harrison has an easy, smooth writing style on which the reader can float along with the story. It is fast-paced and expertly plotted, leaving no opportunities for the reader to get bored with all the action that takes place. And the characters are succinctly developed, though you can tell there is more to learn about these four boys as the series progresses.

Island of Thieves

Island of Thieves
Josh Lacey
Andersen, 2011, 237p

Never have I read a novel that so quickly leapt into action. Within the first chapter, Josh Lacey sets us up for a thrilling, dangerous adventure that takes our protagonists from New York to Peru.

With his parents going on their first holiday without the kids, there is no one to look after Tom (mainly because no one is brave enough to take him on - he has just accidentally set fire to the garden shed). Tom ends up with his Uncle Harvey, a man about whom little is known. But Uncle Harvey is headed to Peru, and Tom talks him into taking his nephew along. Unfortunately, Harvey neglects to tell Tom why they are headed to Lima until it is too late, and they both find themselves under the thumb of one of the most dangerous men in South America. 

By the end of the adventure, I was convinced that Harvey and Tom are the luckiest men alive. There isn't a moment when their lives aren't in danger, as they follow an ancient trail to uncover buried treasure. You have to suspend your disbelief a little, as they encounter situations that I am convinced no one could survive, but you are in for an gripping ride.

The Island of Thieves is a cross-over of many genres, from mystery to thriller to adventure. It lacks female characters a little too much for my taste, but Tom is such a rounded character that I think any young reader would relate to him. He isn't exceptional, he's ordinary, and so we can feel part of his journey.

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.

Tales of Terror from the Tunnel's Mouth

Tales of Terror from the Tunnel's Mouth
Chris Priestley
London, Bloomsbury, 2011, 277p

Tomorrow is World Book Day, and I am honoured to have Chris Priestley visiting my school. I cannot wait to hear his gruesome tales and see our students shiver in terror! So I have been reading through some of my favourite Priestley books, including Tales of Terror from the Tunnel's Mouth.

Robert is taking the train back to school, on his own for the first time. Accompanying him in the same carriage is a mysterious Woman in White; and when the train stops unexpectedly in a tunnel, she entertains the boy by telling him supernatural and scary stories. Robert is initially very logical and rational, listening to the stories with pessimism, but soon finds they are creeping into his subconscious and lulling him into an uncomfortable stupour. I'd rather not spoil any of the stories - especially as I feel words could not explain how haunting they are - so you will just have to read for yourself. But as Robert notes, the images stay with you long after you have finished reading, and this little collection caused me many a sleepless night.

I initially encountered Chris Priestley at the recommendation of a student, but now constantly find myself giving his books to my readers, both advanced and reluctant. He is an incredibly talented writer, drawing on hundreds of years of Gothic tropes to turn the seemingly ordinary into something terrifyingly disturbing. 

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. 

The Screaming Staircase

Lockwood & Co: The Screaming Staircase
Jonathan Stroud
London, Doubleday, 2013, 440p

I am not a huge fan of ghost stories - either I find it too hard to suspend my disbelief or I get too creeped out - and I abhor hard back novels - they are much too hard to read in comfort. And yet, I found The Screaming Staircase to be a clever, gripping horror story with witty and complete characters.

The story begins with Lockwood and Co on a case. Lucy and Lockwood have been left alone in a haunted house, where the owners suspect evil is hidden somewhere. Armed with iron filings and rapiers, the two young detectives set out to find the Source. Lucy can hear the whispers of the ghost, whilst Lockwood is able to see them in the dark. Children are more sensitive to the elements, and across England, bands of young ghost hunters are employed to find and suppress ghosts. 

I loved that this novel jumped right into the action - in the second part of the novel, Lucy takes us back to contextualise the situation, explaining all about the Problem. Some fifty years ago, sightings and hauntings increased dramatically, giving rise to a number of government policies to protect people from ghosts. The most popular solution tended to be the use of agencies such as Lockwood & Co., though this company is somewhat smaller of staff and reputation than some of it's competitors. Throughout the novel, Lockwood, his business partner George, and their new employee, Lucy, plot to get the company to the top of it's game. 

The Screaming Staircase is a rather long novel, but I did not feel that way. I quickly engaged with Lucy, a feisty, self-assured young girl, though often others fail to see her value. Lockwood and George are an entertaining double act, one being always eager to jump into danger whilst the other would prefer to spend hours researching before approaching any new case. 

The ghostly element of the novel is suspenseful and memorable. The fear creeps up on you, so that the early pages lure you into a false sense of security and by the end you are unable to stop reading. Jonathan Stroud is a measured guide through the story, taking you on highs and lows of drama and horror. The combination of mystery and thriller was more than enough to keep me completely enthralled into the early hours of the morning. 

1602

1602
Neil Gaiman, Andy Kubert & Richard Isanove
Marvel, 2011

I have been looking forward to reading this for months, so when I found myself with a quiet weekend, I indulged in a bit of Marvel gone historic.

It's 1602 and Queen Elizabeth is close to death. In her court, Doctor Stephen Strange and Sir Nicholas Fury conspire with the Queen to protect her, concerned that her death might bring forth the rule of King James, who has no love for magical arts. Witch-like activitiesn will be supressed and a reign of Catholicism will rule over England.

This gripping Gothic graphic takes all our favourite Marvel heroes back in time. From the X-Men to Fantastic Four to Captain America, they are all hidden under historical guises, unaware that they are about four hundred years too early. Something unexplained has disturbed the chronology of history, and somehow these characters have langed in Elizabethan England, unaware that they are destined for another time.

It is incredible how easily the Marvel characters slip into the seventeenth century - you might think that there would be profound differences in their situation, but actually it turned out to be rather easy to surplant them in another time. As in the twenty-first century, they are at risk of prosecution for their abilities, forced into hiding and always in conflict. Scientific explanations for their powers are replaced by magical and supersticious explanations, but the core 'otherness' remains.

There are many layers to this story, but the brilliant and detailed illustrations keep you abreast of the flow, and so it is able to jump around from each characters' storyline until they all come together to overcome the darkness that hangs over the world. For some of the characters, it is clear who their modern alter-ego is, but some are more subtle, revealing themselves to you as you read on and learn more.

I found myself completely engrossed in this story. If anyone has any doubts over the educational potential of graphic novels, surely this overcomes any argument against, as it teaches seventeenth century history through the medium of the superhero story.

Sweet Tooth

Sweet Tooth
Ian McEwan
London, Vintage, 2012, 370p

Due to high demand amongst staff at my school, a colleague and I are establishing a staff book club, starting with Ian McEwan's Sweet Tooth. 

Although McEwan has a tendency to be incredibly tough on his protagonists, I like his writing. He is gritty, getting right into the minds of his characters. They are not flawless objects you cannot believe in, but detailed and flawed individuals who often cause their own demise. 

Serena Frome is no exception. She is an attractive, intelligent young woman, fresh out of Cambridge, when she is spotted by MI5. She is recruited for operation Sweet Tooth, a project to mould the face of British culture through supporting writers who reflect the government's desired national mood. It is 1972 and society is in a difficult place, with the Provisional IRA threatening terrorism, workers going on strike, and the Cold War hanging over Europe. Serena is told to manage Tom Haley, an English professor who has shown an aptitude for writing what MI5 want to see. She admires his work, and when she meets him, falls for the man himself. 

This novel did not unfold in the manner I had expected. The blurb is enough to make you anticipate fast-paced action, but the drama occurs in a rather more leisurely manner. The reader is aware that Serena is doomed from the beginning, unable to tell Tom who she really works for. The secret builds between them as they become closer and closer, threatening to unravel their peaceful seaside idyll. 

And yet, I hugely sympathised with Serena. It might have been her unadulterated love of reading or her misguided approach to romance, but despite her being incredibly different from me, I related to her feelings. This is where I think McEwan is highly skilled: he gets right into the subconscious of his characters, breaking down their motives and movements so that the reader becomes in tune with the protagonist, and you start to believe you might have acted exactly as they did. 

I am really looking forward to discussing this novel with my colleagues and friends - even if we conflict, I love exploring a novel through someone else's eyes.