Month: April 2021

THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD by Colson Whitehead

Published on by Kevin BonfieldLeave a comment

Here we go. Having been humbled by the prose, the depth, the power and the sheer beauty of this book, I’m struggling to find sentences worthy of describing it.

Colson Whitehead’s 2016, Purlitzer Prize winning novel is just tremendous. Why? I shall try and explain.

Firstly, it is exquisitely crafted. There isn’t a wasted sentence in the book. My novel writing ambitions (and indeed, my efforts to date) feel like the surface of a puddle after delving into the oceans of depth on offer here. And that’s before we start on the extraordinary story. This is the second Colson Whitehead book I’ve read, and they have both been magnificent. (The other being The Nickel Boys)

The story is exquisite. Taking the metaphor of The Underground Railroad to mean so much more than just a series of safe houses runaway slaves might use for shelter. In the book, set in the first half of the nineteenth century, there really is a secret underground railway. There are engineers and conductors, each with their own reasons for taking the risk on behalf of the slaves. It is a bright and inventive take on one of the darkest times in history.

I found it scary that even within a few hundred pages I could start to become anaesthetised to the horrors of slavery and the casual murder enjoyed in some of the southern states particularly. The author doesn’t push any parallel with the racism of today, but as a reader, these were never far from my mind. In fact, Whitehead delves further back into history to highlight the massacre of Native Americans rather than labour any contemporary (or indeed populist) narrative. I keep saying it, this book is terrific in ways I’d never thought of.

It is so powerful, honestly. So powerful without seemingly trying to be. The main character Cora finds herself anew in each of the states into which the railroad deposits her. She has followed her mother’s footsteps (or so she thinks, but no plot spoilers). The narrative seems to gather poignancy as the book draws to a close with some breathtakingly, heart breaking moments of realisation.

Cora’s escape from the plantation in the deepest south is far from smooth and throughout the book, literally from start to finish, she suffers unimaginable pain and loss. She really is our hero, and her strength is solid. I could not fail to be inspired to look for everything positive in my own life by her seemingly natural ability to push on.

Colson Whitehead graphically portrays each state’s methods of dealing with “the negro problem” and doesn’t hold back with the horrific imagery. Yes, it is a bruising read, but somehow sublime in its telling. I lost count of the number of times I said to Nicky (my gorgeous wife and fellow member of our two person book club), “I bloody love this book”!

I am left enriched and moved and felt I’d travelled an uncomfortable and torrid journey from Africa, through the deep south into the faintest of promised lands further north.

As I write this in April 2021, I can’t help but think we’ve gone backwards, as a (human) race, in so many ways. I hope that if the time came to be counted, I would be brave enough to become a conductor on The Underground Railroad. This will never be my history. I am in the utterly privileged position to say that. BUT, I feel even more privileged to have Colson Whitehead show me THIS history.

Remarkable.

DISGRACE by J.M. Coetzee

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The last book review I posted was of Gods Without Men by Hari Kunzru, a densely plotted, artfully crafted and challengingly narrated tome. After such a hefty read, Coetzee’s 1999 Man Booker Prize winning Disgrace was a much more straight forward tale in comparison. Not in any sort of simplistic way, far from it, but J.M. Coetzee delivers his depth in a more naturally chronological order. As I keep saying, as a writer myself I enjoy reading far and wide to try and absorb some of the language and style used by these extraordinary authors.

Skim reading Disgrace would do this gorgeous book a disservice. Peel off the top layer and you’ll find subtle explorations of contrasting themes running through the story.

David Lurie, a twice divorced teacher at the Technical University of Cape Town has a compulsive affair with a student. The affair itself is awkward and clumsy. Coetzee’s direct and pointed narrative exposes the main character’s weaknesses and his traits as the whole episode unravels. From a position of respect and comfort, Lurie’s life is dismantled and he finds himself seeking refuge with his daughter, Lucy. Lucy lives on a countryside smallholding and her lifestyle, as well as the company she keeps, is a startling departure for David.

What Coetzee does so well with this book is blend the personal, intricate details of lives being lived with the deeper issues of class, race and gender as South Africa attempted to prepare for the 21st century. I found myself opening up to the realisation that so much in life is just accepted. The casual disregard for women, which feels almost institutional in the early stages of the novel, for example. Also the assumptions of how the colour of skin determines our status. Not only that, the horrific crime which occurs at Lucy’s farm (as well as the later crime David suffers) is almost expected. David struggles to understand Lucy’s acceptance of what happens (without giving anything away) and he has an undercurrent of shame which just adds to the disgrace of the book’s title.

There is a brutal honesty about a middle aged white man believing that he “…has, to his mind, solved the problem of sex rather well.” He hasn’t of course, as becomes apparent early on. He believes that it is alright to have women slot into his life, purely to fulfil his desires. As I have said, this is both awkward and shameful in its telling. Coetzee, as I’m sure a more scholarly reviewer would better explain, seems to parallel South Africa’s attempts at truth and reconciliation with David’s lived experience. I find myself humbled by writing as eloquent as this. The narration prods and embarrasses the reader into glancing at the mirror to check for signs of the flaws being portrayed.

I don’t think I’m going overboard when I describe this as a ‘masterpiece’. I’d previously read just one of Coetzee’s works, his thinly disguised memoir of adolescence, Boyhood, and in some ways the themes there are taken into later adulthood with Disgrace. I have no doubt there are autobiographical elements to Disgrace too, and I know he speaks directly to those of us similarly aged and privileged as David appears to be in the book.

I wonder how women readers feel about David? I found him frustrating and at times downright offensive. And yet, somehow, I was still rooting for him as the book drew to a close. Lurking behind the decisions made (often as a result of nothing more than his sex drive), there is a man who cares deeply about his daughter, one of his ex wives and the other women he encounters in the book. He also develops as a man (in my opinion) as his empathy for the dogs, which feature prominently, grows. But I couldn’t shake off the feeling that he still felt that women should accept their standing and make life choices accordingly.

In a relatively small number of pages, Coetzee has managed to have me nodding in agreement, lowering the book from my face in embarrassment and pausing to imagine myself in David’s situation. Oh, and he also had me walking around the house with the book in my hands as I simply couldn’t put it down.

I heartily recommend.

GODS WITHOUT MEN by Hari Kunzru

Published on by Kevin Bonfield3 Comments

It isn’t my place to say whether a book is ‘good’ or not. From day one of this blog I’ve set out to only review books I’ve enjoyed. My challenge is to find the words to show you (assuming there is a ‘you’ out there) just what it is I’ve enjoyed about the book.

My reading (and reviewing) runs parallel to my own writing ambitions. The more I read, the more ambitious I become. And the more ambitious, challenging or obscure the books I read are, the more I want to challenge myself with my own writing.

All of which brings to Gods Without Men. A book which slowed me down. A book which had me turning back to double check where I was, who was who. There’s a lot going on! But, I loved it, I feel enriched for spending a week consumed with it.

And here’s why:

As the book progresses we follow the story of a young New York couple, Jaz and Lisa. They are in the Mojave desert on a break with their profoundly autistic son, Raj. Theirs is a tortured marriage and the events in the desert find them struggling to cling on to anything resembling normality. The chapters devoted to this narrative are dispersed throughout the book and on a simple level tell a compelling drama of a son who disappears amid the confusion of a seemingly failed partnership. But don’t be fooled, there is so, so much more to explore.

The book is about place. There is a three pronged rock in the desert which hosts most of the stories appearing in the book. Chapters jump between years and combine imagined legends of coyote and 18th century mystery. A rock star hiding from his band, an airline pilot creating an outpost eatery, scientologists and a cult of dubious legitimacy using the three pronged rocks to communicate with extra terrestrial life.

Keeping up? You will be flicking back to check you’ve got the right character in your mind!

The writing style is textured and lyrical, no bouncing along, page turning formula here. As the book progressed, I delved deeper into every sentence and found myself absorbed by the mood of the book. I couldn’t have read it any quicker, I’d have missed it.

The narrative of Jaz and Lisa is pained. The public (and media) reaction to the disappearance of Raj felt as uncomfortable as I felt when the McCann family were so cruelly scrutinised when their daughter Madeleine disappeared. Jaz and Lisa’s circumstances are further complicated by her Jewish heritage and his Punjab roots. These cultures clash and at their worst, the racist undertones they have towards each other are barely disguised. It’s not a ‘feel good’ book, but it’s a bloody marvellous read.

After finishing Gods Without Men I closed it in my lap and just took a few minutes to absorb what I’d just witnessed. I’ve followed it by starting J.M. Coetzee’s Disgrace (which won the Mann Booker Prize in 1999). Coetzee’s work feels lighter and more traditional in its story telling by comparison. This contrast is pleasing on the eye and I look forward to sharing my thoughts on Disgrace. I’m enjoying varying the styles I read and Hari Kunzru certainly varies the pace and style, sometimes from chapter to chapter. Regular readers will remember I enjoyed his equally ‘literary’ White Tears.

For now though, I’ll recommend Gods Without Men, particularly for those of you wanting to delve into the possibilities of the unknown, question folklore and legend and revel in the ‘hippie’ style commune living which is certainly not portrayed as the idyll of a ’60s myth. Not only that, there’s a painful and frustrating love story running through the mystery of the disappearance of the child. It’s a fully loaded tome!

Is it any good? That’s not for me to say…….

Let In The Light by Gerard Nugent

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So chuffed to be invited to take part in this Blog Tour.

This is Gerard Nugent’s debut novel. As a natural song writer, Nugent found himself forming the idea for this book after attending a local creative writing class. The idea was to find themes for his next batch of songs, but, combined with a chance encounter with an ex Brit Pop star working in a music shop, he found the plot for a novel forming in his head.

Let in the light is a bright read, the language and prose style both feel spacious – a feel good story some might say. But you don’t have to scratch far below the surface to find there is plenty of poignancy in this compelling page turner.

Songwriter, Richie Carlisle never wanted to be famous.

After stumbling into the limelight five years ago, he soon found himself crashing back out of it. Now, he spends his days working in a small music shop in Edinburgh, attempting to live a quiet life as a part-time dad.

But his 15 minutes of fame have taken its toll. His inspiration for songwriting, music and life in general seems to have all but disappeared.

When Richie is given a flyer advertising the first meeting of the Hope Street Songwriters’ Circle, it’s a chance to step back into the world. But after years of hiding away, letting in the light won’t be easy.

The book’s blurb sets the scene.

I like how the author has built this plot. The first half of the book switches between ‘then’ and ‘now’ – feeding us the build up to Richie’s catastrophic 15 minutes of fame whilst following him as he tries to recover in the years afterwards. Set on the fictitious Hope Street, but in the very real world of Edinburgh, Let In The Light has a community of characters featuring on Richie Carlisle’s journey. All of the supporting cast seem to have intriguing back stories and Nugent gives us glimpses into their worlds as they interact with the plot. It wasn’t a surprise to learn that Let In The Light is the first in a planned series of novels about the personalities on Hope Street.

Dialogue is plentiful throughout the book and I found myself drawn into the conversations, nodding in agreement or rolling my eyes as Richie struggles to make good decisions. It is a modern, honest book – the exchanges between Richie and the mother of his child, Pen, are full of truth and expose the pain of their relationship. The responsibility and heartbreak of parenting through separation is sensitively explored. Their son, Finn, is never far from the centre of things, much as it is a tale of how music affects our lives.

The portrayal of Richie’s struggles, the dark times he battles after the failure as a ‘rock star’ and even darker times dealing with the fall out of Penn’s pregnancy and how they struggled to make things work after Finn was born, are all scrutinised. These issued aren’t forced on the reader, there is a pleasing lightness of touch to the language which seems to give us time to absorb the impact of the big decisions in Riche’s life.

As the book progresses, the interwoven histories of the characters are revealed, including Richie’s band mates and his boss in the music shop where he works. I won’t spoil any of the plot, but I think it’s important to note that all of this affects the mental health of Richie and others. The impact of deteriorating mental health is nakedly visible and on at least one occasion quite shocking. Like I said, this feels like a truthful book. Gerard Nugent is supporting the mental health charity, Health In Mind, with Let In The Light and all profits are being donated to this great cause.

A great tale of city life and how communities are formed and revealing that, within those communities, unlikely bonds and friendships can be formed. The writing feels accomplished and the author gives us plenty of great detail around the music and how musicians can work well (or not) together. The relationship many of us have with music, just how important it can be, the power of the song, are also constants throughout the narrative.





Gerard Nugent lives in Yorkshire with his family and two guinea pigs – he can be found on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter or at his website.

Over at AMAZON Let In The Light is currently only 99p for kindle and the paperback is a bargain at £7.99 too.

BEING ACCOUNTABLE #3 MARCH 2021

Published on by Kevin BonfieldLeave a comment

I made myself a manifesto at the end of 2020 – I didn’t feel the need to make ‘resolutions’, I just wanted to hold myself to account and move through 2021 as proud of myself as possible. It went pretty well in January and February…….

March is always a strange one. So many dates. Anniversaries. Memories. Those that know me, and any of you who are long term followers of the blog will know that my sister died far, far too young. She was a mere 44 when her battle with illness ended on March 26th 2009. Five years she lived with cancer. Of course that date always hangs heavy over me during March, as does her birthday, which is earlier in the month. This year I’ve not fought it at all – grief is shite, but grieving is so important. My niece (my sister’s eldest) celebrates her birthday in March, and her youngest, my great nephew, celebrates his birthday too. And Mothers’ Day, which is always hard for my own mum of course. There’s always somebody missing. And so it goes on……..

So, I allow myself to drift through March a bit. This month there are no updates on my pledges – how many words I’ve written, how often I go running, how many articles, poems or stories I’ve submitted…. Nope, I’m just going to share with you all the positivity I’ve been lucky enough to find in the month.

Running

Ahhh, bliss

Despite getting down towards the end of the month, I’ve ran a whole lot more than I’m giving myself credit for, nearly 130 miles in fact. And I started and ended the month really enjoying myself out there too. It helps that I get to run with my wonderful, gorgeous and supportive wife too – she’s a bit more focussed than me on training and I enjoy joining her for some structured sessions as well as our adventures on the trails.

Reading & Writing

I’m still ticking over, in fact I’ve published 7 book reviews in March as well as featuring on my first ever Blog Tour (a publicity tool used by publishers – a series of enthusiastic book bloggers post reviews on set dates to support a book’s launch). I still haven’t got the hang of Instagram. It strikes me that many of the posters of #bookstagram posts are more concerned with creating arty pictures of books than they are with actually reading them. I’d rather 10 people read a book review of mine on here, and actually enjoy it, than a hundred people be impressed by my picture of a coffee cup or candle next to a book!

Have a look at the reviews of these ⏬⏬⏬ and more here.

While I’m on the subject of writing, a year ago one of my favourite authors, AL Kennedy, released a collection of short stories called We Are Attempting To Survive Our Time. A clever, sometimes dark, often mysterious, always gripping bunch of tales. I discovered this week that the hardback (a copy of which is one of my most treasure possessions) has sold a mere 85 (yup, eighty five) copies. I was stunned. It just shows that apart from at the very, very top there is hardly a living to be earned by authors – writing is a passion. And I’m glad I’ve been blessed to have that passion.

Al Kennedy has won the Costa Novel Award and has been long listed for the Booker Prize. Her collection of essays On Writing is one of my most read books. Read my review of an earlier award winning Kennedy novel, Serious Sweet here.

My review of David Baddiel’s Jews Don’t Count came to the attention of the author himself, which resulted in it becoming one of my most read blog posts ever (he shared it with his 3/4 million followers) It also, sadly, led to me being ‘trolled’ for the first time ever (I won’t be repeating what was said!).

The Beach Hut

They couldn’t wait to check out the deck chairs!

We were offered a spot on Preston sea front last year and have this year taken it up. Our new hut arrived and we have worked bloomin’ hard to get several coats of paint on it and kit it out. Nicky has always wanted one and it’s great to know we now have a little ‘holiday home’ regardless of what else we get to do this year. It is a game changer for sea swimming. Nicky has been getting in for most of the winter, bbbrrrrrr, and I shall be joining her, er, soonish! Having the hut to get out of the wind and have a hot cuppa after a dip is brilliant. The grandchildren have already tried out the deckchairs of course.

We’re rather proud of our efforts!

Things Are Coming Back

We’re off to do an actual event later in the month, hosted by Badger Events (see my article about them from last year here). Not only that, I’ll be making my triathlon debut(!) and Nicky competing in her third Half-Ironman when we travel to Stafford in July. I’ve also got a rather daunting ultra marathon booked later in July. Sadly, it’ll be a while before any decision is made on Nicky’s full Ironman for August, with much depending on travel restrictions. Nicky attempted the full distance in 2019 when the Outlaw had to be abandoned after the swim in horrendous weather and last year her Ironman was of course cancelled due to Covid. Third time lucky?

Work

I don’t really talk about work on here. Work is the thing I do because of the need to eat etc! Luckily I enjoy my job, but I’d been finding myself not enjoying my work surroundings over the last six months or so. So I did something about it…. I still work for the same supermarket, I’m still a home delivery driver, but I’ve moved stores. It took a bit of toing and froing, but I’m really, really happy now. This isn’t the place to discuss details, but it was another ‘March’ scenario which was draining my resolve. Rather proud that I did something about it rather than just grumble along unnecessarily unhappy.

So, I’ve excused myself my manifesto pledges for a month and now I’m back in the groove. Expect a far more productive report in April………..

Me and Charlie trying out our ‘do not disturb’ vibes.

THE LIES YOU TOLD by Harriet Tyce

Published on by Kevin Bonfield1 Comment

I was rather chuffed to be asked onto the blog tour for Harriet Tyce‘s second novel, The Lies You Told. I eagerly ripped open the envelope and delved straight in. It had barely left postie’s hand!

My lovely wife had really enjoyed Tyce’s debut, Blood Orange and I had to get my book mark in quick to bagsie The Lies You Told, denying her the chance to read it first.

The book promised to be a thriller with dark and chilling plot twists. On the face of it this is not something I would ordinarily pick up. Joining the blog tour gave me reason to step outside my reading comfort zone. And I’m so, so pleased I did.

Our main character, Sadie finds herself with no choice but to leave her life in America, returning to London, the city of her childhood. Her life has taken some sinister turns with her husband and she packs and leaves with her daughter, Robin. In running from her present life she finds herself arriving in a past she had previously rejected.

Returning to the home of her childhood, Sadie rediscovers the haunting memories of an estranged and emotionally painful relationship with her late mother. There are many strands to this book, the mystery of her husband’s behaviour in America plays against the unravelling of her mother’s last wishes. The truths of these parallel stories are only drip fed to the reader in the clever narrative.

The chapters build the plot in layers. As more characters gradually enter the fray they add texture and depth, the tensions and dramas build. In fact, the long distance runner in me found the pace was like a well executed marathon. The early stages feel comfortable and the pain, tension, suffering all mount as the intensity rises. I particularly enjoyed this. Rather than throw me all of the juicy bits early, Harriet Tyce kept me turning the pages, eager to see where I was being taken to next.

Back in London, and with her daughter attending the select and competitive school of her own childhood, Sadie finds herself embroiled in school gate politics. These are particularly cruel and elitist fellow mums and Sadie is soon struggling to fit in. The same is happening inside the school for Robin. The world of education amongst the higher classes appears to be more vicious and cruel than at any level I’ve ever experienced. No plot spoilers, but these parents harbour deeply sinister secrets and some will stop at nothing.

More and more threads starting weaving their way into the story as Sadie, after linking up with an old friend and colleague, returns to the legal world as a junior barrister. The case she ends up working on involves defending a teacher accused of having an inappropriate relationship with a student. I’ll avoid spoilers again, but the twists start coming thick and fast once Sadie is back in chambers and in the court room. The anxieties of the school community and the never-far-away mystery of her failing marriage loom large in Sadie’s mind as she tries to focus on her role in court.

Interspersed through the book are vignettes of Sadie’s state of mind as Tyce hints at dramas yet to unfold. This is a clever tool, placing these fears and doubts in the readers mind before returning the narrative to the present. I have no idea what an ‘airport’ novel is, but I could easily imagine picking this up (assuming we are able to travel anytime soon) in an airport book shop and be racing through the furiously paced final chapter before unpacking my suitcase.

Clearly written from a position of knowledge, the courtroom drama is full of rich and satisfying detail. The uncertainty about the past, present and future of the book’s varied cast is exaggerated by Sadie being the narrator; sometimes the reader is ahead of her as her attention switches between the different avenues the story takes. I like that the tale unfolds in Sadie’s own voice and the added possibility of her not always being the most reliable narrator.

The book is perfect if you’re looking for a multi layered, thriller which gradually ups the ante as you turn the pages. It will also satisfy readers who are trying to work out who can or cannot be trusted – and be warned you might finish the book still not convinced about that.

Harriet Tyce grew up in Edinburgh before studying English at Oxford University. She went on to do a law conversion course at City University. Her subsequent MA in Creative Writing – Crime Fiction at the University of East Anglia followed 10 years of practise as a criminal barrister.

She lives in North London where her cat, Dougal, is very proud of her writing achievements.


Find Harriet on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or on her website.