Grace Williams Says it Loud

Synopsis: The doctors said no more could be done and advised Grace's parents to put her away. On her first day at the Briar Mental Institute, Grace, aged eleven, meets Daniel. Debonair Daniel, an epileptic who can type with his feet, sees a different Grace: someone to share secrets and canoodle with, someone to fight for. A deeply affecting, spirit-soaring story of love against the odds.

Review: A triumph, I absolutely loved it. Grace is profoundly disabled and as such I don't think I've ever read a book from that perspective before. Outwardly Grace is all drools, incoherent speech and twisted body (the doctor's describe her as a 'complete imbecile' ... 'there's something so ghastly - so animal about them isn't there nurse?') but inside her mind is quick, vibrant and teeming with thoughts and ideas. It's brave and it doesn't shy away from the uncomfortable ... Grace hasn't got full control of her bodily functions (that's an understatement, but then again sometimes she actively encourages them to let loose .. as an act of rebellion) and within the institution she is a victim of sexual, physical and emotional abuse. All of this is told with spirit but always in Grace's matter of fact, candid style. In another persons hands it could be gloomy but in fact it's not at all, there are parts that will make you feel sad and at the beginning I found I had to shift my ideas a bit because I wasn't so sure that I wanted to face the realities of her world but I soon got over it and taken as a whole I found it quite joyous. Along with the devils there are also a few angels, those that actively want to help and bring happiness. Also Gracie finds a kindred spirit in Daniel - a sandy haired epileptic with no arms. He see's through her outward wrapping to the inner person, they sneak around together behaving like naughty children, lovesick teenagers and partners in crime, sharing secrets and stories, plotting, canoodling and exploring. They don't need words (though Daniel is a complete chatterbox) .. he understands her intuitively.

You won't find it an easy read, it can be both disturbing and shocking and it will constantly make you angry. Also Grace's streams of consciousness can sometimes be challenging, but you'll be rewarded by a totally original story that positively rings with vitality and authenticity. I've read a lot of books lately that were alright but nothing more, this one stood out above the rest.

'Sitting beside Daniel on the coach or train, swapping sandwiches - meat paste for Marmite - sticky thighs, itchy heads, scorching hard windows, and the nurses quick hands as they helped out. The flighty, sweaty heat of them. They always asked permission to leave their uniforms behind. It was always refused. Nevertheless, there was a mufti lightness in their step, a saucy brightness in their eyes, and even Matron sometimes smiled. Look. The sea, the sea, there was the sea. Often because it was low season June or early October, livid and full of heaving, breaking waves. A spray-shock on my face, eye-sting - cold - and a surprised tongue of salt, making me mashmack my lips and spew with my mouth. Daniel said he didn't like the sea - it made him claustrophobic. He said the sea was a grave, and a watery one at that. Drowning is meant to be a pleasant, painless way to die, Daniel said, but he believed it must be like being buried alive, only worse. Imagine the pressure of all that water - the airlessness and then, when your body and all your insides are nothing but silence and dark, that terrible sinking feeling. I knew that feeling, but I didn't agree - and anyway - hip hip hooray - Daniel liked the other sides of the sea. He liked the seaside. Like everybody.'

It's not really a beach book at all, though I ended up reading it on the beach because I quickly finished the one I had taken with me but it was perfect because it absorbed me so much that the noisy beach life going on all around me just disappeared.

I know a lot of people have struggled with it but like Gracie I'm going to say it loud ... I LOVED THIS BOOK .. in actual fact I loved it so much I wrote a message in pebbles to prove it.


I borrowed a library copy but I must get one of my own, even if I never read it again because I love to see favourite stories on the shelf. I am a bit worried about recommending it though because I've read a lot of negative reviews, so perhaps anyone interested should take the precaution of borrowing it from the library.

Love Letters of Great Men

Synopsis: From the private papers of Mark Twain and Mozart to those of Robert Browning and Nelson, Love Letters of Great Men collects together some of the most romantic letters in history. For some of these great men, love is a 'delicious poison' (William Congreve); for others, 'a nice soft wife on a sofa with good fire, & books & music' (Charles Darwin). Love can scorch like the heat of the sun (Henry VIII), or penetrate the depths of one's heart like a cooling rain (Flaubert). Every shade of love is here, from the exquisite eloquence of Oscar Wilde and the simple devotion of Robert Browning, to the wonderfully modern misery of the Roman Pliny the Younger, losing himself in work to forget how much he misses his beloved wife, Calpurnia. Taken together, these Love Letters of Great Men show that perhaps men haven't changed so very much over the last 2,000 years; passion, jealousy, hope and longing are all represented here as is the simple pleasure of sending a letter to, and receiving one from, the person you love most.

Review: For all romantics everywhere, this collection harks back to a time before telephones were invented and the only way of saying those three little words to anyone was to write them down and send them. Oh the joy of picking these up off the mat (or the silver salver) instead of bills, it would certainly cheer up your Monday morning. All things considered, it's hard to think that Henry VIII was ever soft hearted enough to write love letters. The one included here is to Anne Boleyn, and you can't help thinking that she would have been better off selling it on Ebay and using the proceeds to buy a one way ticket to farawayland. He included this little epistle with a gift, but before you start thinking he was nothing but a slushy old bear .. the gift was his own image set in a bracelet :0 Credit to him though for knowing that a necklace wouldn't be much good to her (sorry .. that was below the belt .. or above it .. oh dear, I'll move on.)

Napoleon's letters are a touch accusatory, it seems that whilst he was off fighting wars, Josephine was a bit lax at keeping in touch .. he writes 'what do you do all day, Madame?' and also 'do not put yourself out; run after pleasures; happiness is made for you. the entire world is too glad to be able to please you and only your husband is very, very unhappy'. A lot of the letters are comical but some are also quite sad.

Amongst my favourites were those sent by John Keats to his love Fanny Brawne (and that he could write such tender letters to someone called Fanny Brawne raises him in my estimation .. if you introduced yourself as that nowadays the man would never stop laughing .. mind you I'm having trouble.) John writes lovely things like 'I have been a walk this morning with a book in my hand, but as usual I have been occupied with nothing but you' *sigh* ... however he is a touch jealous and goes on to say that he resents 'my heart having been made a football'.

Other contributors include Mark Twain, Oscar Wilde, Lord Nelson, Lord Byron, Robbie Burns, Victor Hugo and Gustave Flaubert. Surprisingly there are none here from Winston Churchill who wrote many tender letters to his dear Clemmie but the last letter here was written in 1918 so perhaps his were just a little too late for inclusion.

I didn't read them all at once, I just sort of dipped in every now and then (though I have read them all now.) It does make you long for the days of quills and sealing wax and it can make you get a bit sniffy when your husband leaves you a note telling you not to forget cat food, but it also makes you feel all warm and squidgy like fudge cake.

Red Dust Road

Synopsis: From the moment when, as a little girl, she realizes that her skin is a different colour from that of her beloved mum and dad, to the tracing and finding of her birth parents, her Highland mother and Nigerian father, the journey that Jackie Kay undertakes in "Red Dust Road" is full of unexpected twists, turns and deep emotions. In a book shining with warmth, humour and compassion, she discovers that inheritance is about much more than genes: that we are shaped by songs as much as by cells, and that our internal landscapes are as important as those through which we move. Taking the reader from Glasgow to Lagos and beyond, "Red Dust Road" is revelatory, redemptive and courageous, unique in its voice and universal in its reach. It is a heart-stopping story of parents and siblings, friends and strangers, belonging and beliefs, biology and destiny and love.

Review: Jackie has a great way with words, as you would expect from a poet/novelist, and this is both a very moving and a very funny account of her search for her birth parents. Her story is told in alternating chapters. One focusing on the here and now and the other reflecting back, with the help of her adoptive parents, on what life was like for a mixed race child growing up in Scotland. Her Nigerian birth father, Jonathan, is unintentionally hilarious .. Jackie was not sure what to expect but whatever pre conceived ideas she has (and Sidney Poitier comes to mind whenever she thinks about him) nothing prepares her for what she finds. One thing's for sure, since Jackie was illegitimately born forty odd years before, Jonathan has found religion in rather a big way ... 'I shift uneasily in my seat. Christ Almighty, my father is barking mad. He spins and dances and sings some more, singing in the most God-awful flat voice, really off-key. The singing sounds like a mixture of African chanting and hymns. Its a shock. Despite the fact that he can't sing, his performance is captivating. I watch his bare feet dance around the room and recognise my own toes.'

Her birth mother, Elizabeth, is the complete opposite, small, white and vulnerable looking, but she too has sought comfort in religion and is a member of the local Mormon church (through which she has come to believe that adopted people ask to be adopted whilst still in the womb.)
Jackie realises that Elizabeth has memory problems when five birthday cards turn up one year and also five Christmas cards each containing a voucher and there's a heartbreaking little visit where Elizabeth tries to take Jackie to a church lunch but after they set off she can't remember where it is ... 'All over the living room little pink Post-It notes, reminding her of things, were stuck to every conceivable surface. "Check cooker. Milk. Phone Aisha. Church Homework. Jackie. Lock door. Check door. Turn off Tap'

There are so many obstacles to overcome, neither of her birth parents have told their families about Jackie, Elizabeth is keen to do it but Jonathan is dead against telling any of his. She's not really able to find out much about how she came to be because Jonathan doesn't really want to talk about it and Elizabeth's mind is becoming increasingly muddled. Jackie is also worried about what Jonathan will make of the fact that she's gay but to her surprise he takes it in his stride ... 'Oh-oh, oh oh ... you mean you are lesbian? ... which one of you is the man? .... I don't mind the women, God doesn't mind the women. It is the men he minds ... Stay away from men .. they will only give you aids' ... and to top it all he starts asking inappropriate questions about her sex life. Also, though he is incredibly supportive, you can tell that her adoptive father is finding the reality of his daughter seeking out her birth parents a little more difficult that he thought
it would be.

On reflection, Jackie was incredibly fortunate to have been given up for adoption. Her adoptive parents are marvellous. Radical, principled and encouraging, they brought both Jackie and her brother up to be confident, well rounded, free thinking individuals. She really couldn't have picked better parents if she had been given a catalogue of the worlds finest and she knows this, but it's only natural to wonder about your roots and to be curious about those that came before you and when Jackie travels to Africa, it's not only the people that tug at her heartstrings and stir her blood but the place itself.

I enjoyed it, it's warm, funny and interesting but it didn't stop me in my tracks, it just lacked that certain something to make it extraordinary but all the same, it's a great read.

Henrietta's War

Synopsis: Spirited Henrietta wishes she was the kind of doctor's wife who knew exactly how to deal with the daily upheavals of war. But then, everyone in her close-knit Devonshire village seems to find different ways to cope: there's the indomitable Lady B, who writes to Hitler every night to tell him precisely what she thinks of him; the terrifyingly efficient Mrs Savernack, who relishes the opportunity to sit on umpteen committees and boss everyone around; flighty, flirtatious Faith who is utterly preoccupied with the latest hats and flashing her shapely legs; and then there's Charles, Henrietta's hard-working husband who manages to sleep through a bomb landing in their neighbour's garden. With life turned upside down under the shadow of war, Henrietta chronicles the dramas, squabbles and loyal friendships that unfold in her affectionate letters to her 'dear childhood friend' Robert. Warm, witty and perfectly observed, Henrietta's War brings to life a sparkling community of determined troupers who pull together to fight the good fight with patriotic fervour and good humour. Henrietta'sWar is part of The Bloomsbury Group, a new library of books from the early twentieth-century chosen by readers for readers.

Review: These were originally a set of articles written by Joyce and published in Sketch magazine during the Second World War. Joyce found them again when she was spring cleaning in the 1980's (it's enough to make you want to don your rubber gloves and get cracking .. except I'm pretty sure I haven't got any unpublished manuscripts hidden away.) She sent them off to a publisher and this book, along with the follow up, 'Henrietta Sees it Through' is the result.

Henrietta is very capable and although she is quite self deprecating and writes with a view to playing down her efforts you get the feeling that she's the sort of woman you could rely on in a crisis. She writes these letters to Robert ('her Childhoods Friend') in order to cheer him up at the front.
The object is not to talk about what's going on with him (indeed we are only given the barest of information about where Robert is and what he's doing) but to tell Robert all about life back at home. She's a doctors wife and has two grown up children. They live down in Devon where everything is fairly peaceful and Henrietta feels quite ashamed to be in such a safe area but she says they have a belligerent community to make up for it.

'Mrs Savernack, that woman of action, took out a gun licence. If she can't get meat at the butcher's, she will go out and shoot it. The rabbits which for years gambolled happily in the fields at the back of the Savernacks' house have received a rude awakening, and Mrs Savernack, flushed with success, has begun to turn her thoughts to bigger game. Farmer Barnes, wisely perhaps, has moved his cows to another field. But the one who is really enjoying the meat rationing is Mrs Whinebite. Not that it actually makes any difference to her, for she and the unhappy Julius have been vegetarians of the most violent order for years, but it gives her a chance to show off in the way vegetarians are so fond of doing. She wanders about the countryside, singing folk songs, with her hair coming down and her hands full of the most revolting fungi'

Henrietta would like to be able to prove herself a bit more but this is what the war must have felt like for thousands of British citizens, women especially. Although they were very involved in helping the war effort, digging for victory, taking in evacuees, sewing hot water bottle covers and knitting themselves into a knot and such like, and they also felt the hardships bought on by rationing and the blackout etc, they had no experiences of bombing or air raids (and though acutely aware of this the ladies of the village get a little fed up when the evacuated 'London Lady' keeps belittling their efforts and basically telling them that they've been having a cushy time of it.) Wherever they live though, the one thing they all fear is invasion .. Mrs B hopes to ward off an attack by lining up all the useless old women on the beach each with a large stone ... 'we might do some damage' ... when told that the only time she was observed throwing a stone it went over her shoulder, she says she will stand with her back to the Germans.

It's a very easy read, I rationed it a bit to make it last longer but it's something that you can polish off in no time. It's quite reminiscent of Mollie Panter-Downes's short stories, very humorous and gossipy in tone and with some lovely little illustrations. I didn't enjoy it quite as much as the other Bloomsbury books I've read, it wasn't as unusual as they were .. but it's just the sort of read to cheer you up on a dull day.

I suppose it's time ...

.. to start uploading my reviews again. As I've said, this computer has been doing strange things and going a bit loopy lou but I am made of sterner stuff and am determined to prevail. Most of the reviews were written ages back now in 2011 but better late than never .. possibly. It's nice to collect them all in one place, it gives me a chance to look back and see how I'm doing. Anyway, here's to success and a new Apple Mac :)

Day Thirty

The last question and I feel like I should get a medal or something.

Day 30 – Your favourite book of all time

.. and I really have no answer for it. I don't have an all time favourite book, I have lots of favourite books but don't favour one over the other. I guess if you tie me down and force me to give an answer then I'll say .. Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen because I love it and feel quite sentimental about it. But equally it might be To Kill a Mockingbird, Great Expectations, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, Gold, Neverwhere, I Capture the Castle, The Pursuit of Love etc etc etc ... I reckon I could name a hundred favourite books easily.

I'm quite sad really because I'd like to have a favourite book .. a special one that meant more to me than any other .. but I just don't. Perhaps I haven't read it yet

System Meltdown

Apologies for not posting in a while ... something has gone wrong with my computer which only a sledgehammer can fix. Hope to be back soon and updating.