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.

Day Twenty Nine

Day 29 - A book everyone hated but you liked

This is a chance for Kylie to get her own back on me the book that comes to mind is How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff *ducks and waits for missiles*. I can see why other people didn't like it (the main character Daisy is not necessarily likeable, the plot is far fetched and at times unconvincing) but for all that I enjoyed it and got quite caught up in it. The writing style didn't annoy me but that was probably because I heard it being read so didn't notice any of the quirks or punctuation problems. It felt a bit like a slightly grown up Enid Blyton story except one that turned sinister. You have to suspend a lot of disbelief but once I'd done that I was fine with it.

Goodbye to all That

Synopsis: 'There has been a lot of fighting hereabouts. The trenches have made themselves rather than been made, and run inconsequently in and out of the big thirty-foot high stacks of bricks; it is most confusing. The parapet of a trench which we don't occupy is built up with ammunition boxes and corpses'. In one of the most honest and candid self-portraits ever committed to paper, Robert Graves tells the extraordinary story of his experiences as a young officer in the First World War. He describes life in the trenches in vivid, raw detail, how the dehumanizing horrors he witnessed left him shell-shocked. They were to haunt him for the rest of his life.

* warning .. this review contains some fairly disturbing quotes *

Review: I'd had this book on my shelf for a while, waiting it's turn along with the others but after reading snippets from it in Skippy Dies I found I wanted to know more. These are the writer Robert Graves's memoirs or, as he puts it, his 'bitter leave-taking of England', in particular it's an account of his time in the trenches during WW1.

The book starts with stories of his childhood and ends with him emigrating abroad but it's his wartime experiences that are absolutely riveting. No matter how many history books you read or documentaries you watch nothing prepares you for the brutal accounts of war as told by those that experienced it first hand. It's all the things you would expect it to be, raw, explicit and horrifying but it's told with candour, absolutely no frills and laced with frequent (trench) humour as in this story told to Robert by his servant ... 'bloke in the Camerons wanted a cushy, bad. Fed up and far from home he was. He puts his hand over the top and gets his trigger finger taken off, and two more beside. That done the trick. He comes laughing through our lines by the old boutillery. "See, lads" he says, "I'm off to bonny Scotland. Is it na a beauty?" But on the way down the trench to the dressing station, he forgets to stoop low where the old sniper's working. He gets it through the head, too. Finee. We laugh fit to die!' It's amazing how quickly, in war, you have to inure yourself to the sight, smell and feel of death .. it's either that or certain madness ... 'once I snatched my fingers in horror from where I had planted them on the slimy body of an old corpse'.

Robert survives although he suffers several injuries (one of which was thought to be fatal and a telegram was sent to his parents informing them that he had died) but understandably he's left traumatised, shell-shocked and afflicted with all sorts of ailments that hamper him in later life. Of great interest is Roberts friendships with fellow writers and poets Siegfried Sassoon, also serving as an officer in WW1, and Wilfred Owen. They all went on to publish war poetry (Wilfred mostly posthumously) and are commemorated on a slate plaque in Poet's Corner of Westminster Abbey along with thirteen other Great War Poets. I'm on the lookout now for Siegfried's book Memoirs of an Infantry Officer which is said to cover the same events but from a different viewpoint.

This is one of Roberts entries:

June 9th: I am beginning to realize how lucky I was in my gentle introduction to the Cambrin trenches. We are now in a nasty salient, a little to the south of the brick-stacks, where casualties are always heavy. The company had seventeen casualties yesterday from bombs and grenades. The front trench averages thirty yards from the Germans. Today, at one part, which is only twenty yards away from an occupied German sap, I went along whistling 'The Farmers Boy', to keep up my spirits, when suddenly I saw a group bending over a man lying at the bottom of the trench. He was making a snoring noise mixed with animal groans. At my feet lay the cap he had worn, splashed with his brains. I had never seen human brains before; I somehow regarded them as a poetical figment. One can joke with a badly wounded man and congratulate him on being out of it. One can disregard a dead man. But even a miner can't make a joke that sounds like a joke over a man who takes three hours to die after the top part of his head has been taken off by a bullet fired at twenty yards range'.

It has to be said that the book seems to lose focus once the war ends, Robert marries, tries his hand at shop keeping, goes on to have several children and eventually settles down to concentrate on his writing (one of the books he goes on to write is the great historical novel I, Claudius.) He meets and becomes friendly with T.E. Lawrence and Thomas Hardy (and many other poets and writers .. indeed the names never stop dropping) but in comparison to his war experiences, which are told so vividly, his ordinary life experiences seem a little flat.

Required reading for anyone with even half an interest in WW1.