Zora has a routine she finds peaceful in Sarajevo; she teaches her students art, paints, and cares for her elderly mother and husband; whilst keeping in touch with her daughter who lives in rural England with her family. She's noticed that barricades are erected over night by nationalist groups, but these are pushed to the side in the morning by the Bosnians, Croats and Serbs who live side-by-side.
Black Butterflies is the story of the slow creep of war into the every day lives of people living their day-to-day lives; something that feels very prescient with the ongoing war between Russia and Ukraine. Zora recognises that things are escalating when a family occupy her Mum's vacant flat, and admits that it may be good for her husband and her Mum to go and stay with her daughter in England; and she'll stay just to finish things off. However, the war escalates and Zora finds herself trapped in Sarajevo, under fire and searching for connection wherever it exists.
Morris manages to make Zora a compelling main character when I think in other hands her naïveté may be frustrating or unbelievable; you understand her passion for her home, and the way years of turmoil have left their tragic fingerprints on her family. The way Morris peels back layers of horror as war and the siege of Sarajevo begins to impact on Zora's life in smaller ways at first before resulting in some tragic events as the novel moves on. The small scenes of hope - a neighbour finding a job translating with the UN, neighbours gathering to borrow books or tell stories, the real human chain that attempted to save as many books as possible from the burning library.
I did find that the romance introduced in the novel was rather heavy-handily signposted and we also have fairly minimal resolution or reflection off the back of it - but on the whole I thought Black Butterflies was a compelling read about a moment in history which feels painfully like it is being repeated.
Oh, I wanted to love this so much. I adore some of Kingsolver's writing, and the hype around this novel had me so excited to revisit it. However, I think my sky high expectations meant that Demon Copperhead came up a little short for me.
A pretty faithful retelling of David Copperfield by Charles Dickens, Demon Copperhead follows the childhood and young adulthood of Damon Fields. Born to a single mother living in rural Appalachia, Damon lives a few years in golden sunshine before the arrival of a cruel stepfather, the death of his mother and Damon's childhood seeing him ping ponging between foster placements in part of the US where both place and people have been forgotten, and people reach for whatever is available to help them kill some time and some pain.
It's undeniable that the sheer craft on display here is really something, Kingsolver pulls a Victorian story into the years of the late 1990s and 2000s with ease, and as a narrator she gives Damon a voice that feels realistic at all times - appropriately cynical and angry but hopeful all the same. The places that his life takes him are vividly drawn and I really got a sense of each and every place. The characterisation is again reasonably strong throughout - I particularly liked Angus, Tommy and the teachers (Mr Armstrong and Annie), with the 'villains' generally not being too one note. Although with some of the characters being so reminiscent of Dickens, it's hard to place all the artistic merit with Kingsolver, however unfair that may sound.
However, my issue with Demon Copperhead is the same issue that I have with Dickens, which is that this book really dragged; and Kingsolver doesn't have the same reasoning as Dickens who was paid by the word. This did sometimes mean I was less motivated to read the novel, particularly when I had to slog through pages that were largely repetitive (which may have been by design, but wasn't a fun read).
I wouldn't be surprised if this goes on to win the Women's Prize as it is a very well crafted work; but not one that was necessarily a favourite in terms of enjoyment.
I somehow avoided hearing anything about this book until it was chosen to my book club's read for May.
Cleopatra and Frankenstein is centred around the titular characters of Cleo and Frank, who have a chance meeting one New Year's Eve and fall into a whirlwind romance; and follows them and their social circle in the aftermath of this meeting.
I had a bit of a weird experience reading this, I was hooked on the first few pages and then it lost me slightly and then picked up again when, ironically, Cleo and Frank took a backseat in the novel. Mellors is good at a character study; whilst some of them may well tiptoe around the edge of stereotype, Cleo and Frank's extended circle feel very alive on the page - particularly Frank's half-sister, his co-worker Eleanor and chef friend Santiago. I found Cleo and Frank to be the least realised characters in the novel, despite us being repeatedly told that they are an 'It' couple. Frank at least I could slightly understand (he's rich, funny, charismatic) but Cleo felt like a bit of a non-entity, her main personality traits appear to be that she's British and attractive - but I didn't really get a sense of why she was such a magnet for people (and as others have said it is a little cringe to see how Mellors may have used her as a self-insert in the novel).
New York itself is a great supporting character to the novel and I can understand why the 'vibes' of the book have so captured TikTok - but I think the mixed bag of characterisation and some plot detours that contained some slightly questionable mental health representation didn't make it land quite as well as it could have done.
An excellent look at what a mess the housing situation has become for too many people in England - Vicky Spratt builds her arguments around different case studies across the country. These range from people priced out of areas they've lived their whole lives, people living in homes practically falling down, people being evicted under Section 21 for no real reason and those living in overcrowded and unstable homes.
Spratt explores how years of legislation providing protection to landlords, and emphasising the value of home ownership have enabled the rental market to become entirely unhinged - with social housing being left behind. She does shine a light on some changes that have happened in Scotland and Wales that could be replicated within England to provide tenants with greater protection; and the excellent Housing First scheme.
A must-read if you care about housing and living in the UK.
I always find it hard to review non-fiction books that I agree with but didn't necessarily learn a whole lot of new information in it. The Authority Gap is a well written and accessible look at how despite theoretical improvements in women's position in society, there remains barriers to female success - based in how they are perceived.
Sieghart uses examples from her own impressive career as a journalist, as well as interviewing other notable women and women who are just starting their careers to share experiences and anecdotes to support the data she uses. I found the chapter where she interviewed trans women and men on their experiences in the workplace pre-and-post transition to be quite compelling.
Interesting read - would definitely recommend if you are new to reading about this topic or are sceptical of the subject matter.
This is one of those books in the moment I found to be perfectly fine, but has sat with me for longer than I expected. Trespasses introduces us to Cushla, a Catholic young woman working as a primary school teacher in 1970s Belfast. She lives with her alcoholic Mum and picks up extra shifts in her family's pub - where she meets Michael, a married English man and begins an affair with him - as well as becoming increasingly involved in the home life of one of her students, Davy.
Trespasses has an excellent sense of place, Kennedy builds the sense of the world around Cushla and the sense of unease that is never too far away - soldiers in the pub, the children's news updates featuring descriptions of violence, Michael providing defence for those involved in the IRA in an increasingly unjust system. A review I saw described this as feeling a bit 'grey' but I think that is a great way to describe what life must have been like during this period. The Troubles always feel like a hidden part of English history, so I appreciate Kennedy for shining a light on this.
There were a couple of reveals that didn't quite have the surprise impact I think they were supposed to, and I'm also slightly confused by the sheer amount of books at the moment that feature an young woman having affairs with older men who they barely seem to like but this was a really assured debut novel, and I'll be interested to see what comes next!
Compared to other books I've read so far on the longlist, Homesick felt like a much quieter read, but I found a lot to like in here.
Homesick follows the relationship between two sisters - the older Amy and younger Zoe, the whose recurring illnesses means that the girls are home schooled. This is a novel with an interesting history, it has previously been published as a memoir of Jennifer's very real childhood - complete with photos; and has now been re-released as a novel. Having not read the memoir, I can't comment on how much has been fictionalised, but I found this look at growing up really affecting. Amy is naturally good at and interested in languages - creating a language to use to communicate with Zoe away from their parents, which Zoe is disinterested in. Through the means of ice skating, the girls become fascinated with Russia and Ukraine respectively, and their crushes on their language tutor Sasha is a turning point for their relationship.
As I said, a quieter more reflective entry on the Women's Prize longlist - I really liked this book which bought to mind previous reads like Educated. Would highlight that this book does feature self-harm and suicide which I hadn't seen mentioned elsewhere, and plays a pivotal role in the novel.
I found Paull's previous work The Bees to be one that was really interesting, I learnt a lot about bees and found it an interesting format to talk about societal structure - even if the anthromorphic nature didn't quite work for me. I have very similar thoughts about Pod, which I also think is a bit messier than The Bees.
Initially focusing on Ea, a member of a specific group of dolphins, Pod becomes a much more sprawling look at what the human impact is on our environment through a number of other characters - notably, the head wife of another dolphin tribe; a bereaved and alone whale; and a dolphin that has escaped working for the US military.
This is a book that is fairly unremitting in its look at the very unromantic side of sea mammals - with an emphasis on violence, rape and sex. As someone who grew up thinking dolphins were the absolute cutest, I'm not sure I still hold that view any more. There are some smart points being made amongst this about patriarchal, abusive societies but it was also tiring to keep being bashed with page after page.
I did feel that there were perhaps a few too many characters within these pages, and I'll confess to skipping over some of the pages where we were getting one too many descriptive passages of the same patches of ocean. The character I found most affecting was Google - shining a light on something I had no idea about (I thought Paull had added this for effect, and was fairly surprised to see that this is far from a fiction!)
I can understand why this made the Women's Prize shortlist, as it is certainly an innovative look at this subject - but I'm not sure it's one that will be enjoyed by everyone.
I was really excited going into I'm a Fan as I'd heard numerous people talking about what a good look at social media this was, so I was quite sad to be pretty underwhelmed by this book.
We follow an unnamed narrator who is in a fairly toxic situationship with an older, more famous man in the art world who dates around a lot - but she becomes particularly obsessed with one of the other women he's dating as well, who is a popular influencer on social media. The narrator also wants to become known for her work in her own right.
This started well for me, there are numerous little vignettes about social media and online dating which I found grappled with some very real challenges and blurred boundaries that we all experience in this very Online time. However, it got increasingly muddied for me as we carried on, to some degree this also reminded me of Assembly in that similar to Natasha Thomas, Sheena Patel also weaves through thoughts and takes on contemporary art, media and politics. However, these felt more like mouth pieces for the author rather than feeling like they really belonged here. It also felt odd that the protagonist would apparently have this insight, and then behave in the way that she does through the novel.
I think How Do You Like Me Now remains the best look at social media I've personally read - I'm A Fan felt a bit too muddied for me.