Hello my name is Joyce and I hope to make a regular contribution to the book discussion in a light hearted manner as if you are joining me for a midday bite to eat and chat about books I am currently reading. This gives us all an opportunity to enjoy a good cyber lunch and debate the delights of a rattling good yarn.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------It has been a while since I visited this site. Due entirely to the fact that reading has not been my priority in recent months. I have just finished my BA hons with the OU. So the blood sweat and tears that went into my final essay took up all my energy, and most of my time from the small amount of brain cells I have left.
Now I am free to enjoy a book or two I will make suggestions for summer holiday reading. Holiday reading has to fulfill a simple criteria. It must be easy reading because I need to keep raising my head from the text to scan the interesting characters around the pool or beach. No convoluted plots or themes because as I turn on the sun bed and re-apply the lotion, potions and mosquito heavy duty spray I don't have the powers of concentration that requires my undivided attention. I must be able to pick it up anywhere whether that be the airport lounge or joining the cafe society in the main precinct.

Two books that I have read that measures up to my requirements is-- The Nine lives of Louise Drax by Liz Jensen. She writes an un-put-downable chick lit that kept me in there until the very last page. It is written in simple English without twists and turn.s Just a straightforward plot but it does allow me to read and people watch at the same time. Listening to an interview she did for the Open University. Her philosophy is to make sure that there is a happy ending which she feels she owes the reader. And so she does. Alls well that ends well AAAAAAAAAH.
the main protagonist is a nine year old boy who displays very odd behaviours. The hook is in who is the good guys and who is the bad. You will just have to read it to find out.



The other is Hilary Mantel's Beyond Black which is a more edgy novel. I wanted to go back to this at every available space in my day. Once more this novel would appeal to women. So ladies this is for those of us who read the horoscope first before reading any other news paper article.
Its fairly black with some traumatic undertones. The two protaganists are business partners and are as different as chalk and cheese. Neither show many redeemable characteristics but its hard not to forgive them when you discover what they have been through in their lives.










Requiem for the East is a novel by Andrei Makine that baffled more than entertained me. The heroine (she with no name) glides across the pages on gossamer wings. Her ethereal presence is in direct opposition to her job description. Hard to believe a woman in the front line of spying, blood letting' and ducking an diving spends her spare time in docile doting pursuits such as stitching (with golden thread no doubt) whilst gazing wistfully out on the far horizons.
The hero wanders lonely as a spy. More Wordsworth or even Coleridge than the James Bond of the KGB. Such a poetic voice for an action man who got from doctor to agent with no explanation.
The Landscape confused me. Where are we now? Africa, Germany, Russia or Britain. It was difficult to make a connection with the country or city on such fleeting unexplained visits. Then along came a poignant cameo 'The soldiers kept firing, reloading, firing. If fugitives had continued to emerge from beneath the train these nine soldiers would have spent the rest of their lives killing them' (p.127) A very powerful emotive statement about the massacre of millions of Russians by the German army. I found it impossible to keep track of the multiple threads and demographics of this novel. As for the ending! Not so much a climax more a damp KGB squib. Difficult to put this novel into a specific genre. It neither inspired nor excited me. Really quite dull and laborious to stick with it.
Once more I wonder if I am not up to such ingenious writings or is it another case of The Emperors New Clothes. What do you think?

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If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things is the first novel by Jon Mcgregor. Inspired, I think, by Under Milk Wood the narrative travels up and down a street visiting and revisiting the residents again and again, but unlike Dylan Thomas the tone is glib and monotonous. The poetically managed prose I feel sure would be every creative writing tutor's dream. It ticks all the boxes for language devices, repetition, qualification, and antithesis to name but a few but being so description driven there is little room for story-line. In fact the plot does not begin to unfold until page 81 and when the climax comes it fails to deliver a satisfactory closure. It was an interesting exercise in studying language but a rattling good yarn it was not

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This months book club offering fared little better in my estimation than the last. The Promise of Happiness by Justin Cartwright managed to irritate more than entertain. Charlie, the son of the very middle class, well educated family who are central to the story uses 'like' like a child of a sink estate and when he is finished with it he passes it onto his sister, who in turn passes it on to the other sibling. I suppose I should be grateful I was spared the other idiom of 'kind of'. Nothing wrong in using language that fits the character which to me it didn't but the inconsistency was the annoyance.
Then there was the cringe making name Ju-Ju.. A nickname that is driven home at every possible opportunity. Some pages it was said seven or eight times with only two characters engaged in dialogue. I know who you are Ju-Ju, Ju-Ju, Ju-Ju.
The blurb on the cover says 'funny' The Independent and I must have a very different interpretation of humour. I thought the title was misleading or the book failed to keep its promise.
This is one of those situations that I feel I am looking at the emperors new clothes. The press rate it, Richard and Judy rate it and the writer has had several nominations for book prizes, whats wrong with me? Answers on a postcard please.
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The things I do for this website which are above and beyond the call of duty. Like reading and completing our recent book club offering. J.G.Ballard's Super-Cannes is nothing short of determination. Not a pleasant feel good experience, but a reader has to do what a reader has to do.
This modern day tale of not so much who done it but why, in this corporate, dysfunctional world of big business is described by the Independent in the cover blurb as being 'The first essential novel of the 21st century'. Thankfully it is not a 21st century I recognise. The spiritually bankrupt characters come thick and fast and not one of them had a single redeeming feature or a hint of common decency. Even the sex scenes were about as titillating as a lecture in human anatomy. The plausibility of the landscape is unobtainable to me. Without a morsel of attractiveness about them the situation was depressing and hopeless. A bit like watching an episode of Eastenders with money.

The writing had an abundance of similes, like an irritating tap dripping.
It came with no surprise that there was little or no resolution

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Inspired by DuMaurier's short stories I found another source of equally satisfying mini novels. From across the pond comes a bigger, thicker volume . In the form of The Granta Book of the American Short Story Volume One. Over forty gems of entertainment. All written around the period of the nineteen fifties and early sixties, they give an insight into American culture and lifestyle of the mid 20th century. Each one delivers an atmospheric, stylish, and fast moving tale in varying genres. I spent the holiday with this Christmas cracker, reading absorbing thought provoking tales rather than watching hours of TV repeats and a more rewarding experience I am sure. Now the quest to find volume 2












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Hi Honey I'm home!
Exams over. Thanks for the query. A nerve wracking terrifying experience but I am on the home stretch and all being well I will be a lady of letters by May. How splendid is that? Before I get there I have to write a stage play which is a huge challenge but so rewarding. Better than therapy.

On with the book. Daphne Du Maurier wrote The Rendezvous and Other Stories in a period and of a class foreign to many of us in the twenty first century and this could easily have me dismiss this book as 'old fashioned' the phraseology and the comments on character appearances is certainly dated. Not one lady goes without a hat or if she does she is no better than she should be. Some of the language is quaint and reminiscent of Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson in 'Brief Encounter' , but look how that has survived.

This collection of short stories is ideal for reading on a bus, in the waiting room of the dentist in fact anywhere that requires little concentration or time. Each story is crafted to perfection and leaves the reader wondering, amazed, puzzled or even on the odd occasion, satisfied. Du Maurier has the talent to set the scene, create the characters and present a package of small but perfectly formed narratives that move along seamlessly.








------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------It has been a while since I visited the lunch table. Due to the demands of University exams I have spent my time reading text books as apposed to books for pleasure. One book I did manage to fit in for a bit of light relief was Are You Talking To Me by John Walsh. For anyone who was brought up on a staple diet of films this book will bring identification and empathy. An autobiographical account of the authors life through cinema is bright and joyful. Unusually for me it had the ability to have me laugh out loud whilst sitting alone in Waterstones coffee house which resulted in some odd looks from other customers.
I joined the author in reminiscence of how as an impressionable teenager I lived my life through film. His interpretation of The Sound of Music and how he hoped it would help him to 'pull' is tinged with wishful thinking. Whilst the western genre caused him to set the family house on fire. Mutiny on the Bounty aided his understanding of the school beatings endured by pupils at his 'posh' school. In fact every area of his life until the age of 21 was partially formed by the information he drew from the big screen. I recognise the ethos of this programming so well.







Oh Dear Oh Dear Oh Dear,
The country is in recession . It hasn't stopped raining for a month and there is nothing on the box except doom gloom and despondency (have you watched the soaps lately?) To top it all our reading group has come up with Bad Blood by Lorna Sage. I think I will go and end it all right now.
For me it spells disaster when I see the words 'book prize winner' on the cover. I envisage a group of highly intellectual posh people far removed from my sphere deciding that a book is worthy of plaudits if it has a convoluted narrative or is really, really difficult for the plebs like me to understand . Or in the case of Bad Blood is incredibly dull. For me this rule applies except for the exceptions Life of Pie remains a mystery to me but I did enjoy it .

I digress. Bad Blood won the Whitbread prize for biography. Under normal conditions I would drop it and run but duty calls and I read this bleak
account of a granddaughters life with her family. Lengthy disclosure of her grandfather's (the vicar) extra curricular activities outside his marriage are incredibly dull and boring. More sad than bodice rippers, and why submit me to a list of his favourite author's I don't know. This is a list of events through a period of time and no attempt is made to create a story that would speak to anyone other than the people with a close genetic connection. Like the weather this biography is dull depressing and grey.

History shows that when the country is in the doldrums the people look to being uplifted. That would explain the recent popularity of the film Mama Mia at the cinema and Music Man at the theatre.
Please book choosers for reading lists, give us something to laugh at, or spiritually uplift us. Even a rattling good adventure yarn to take us out of reality. We are living hard times we don't need to read about them


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A Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon is a novel intent on keeping up appearances whilst every possible modern family issue confronts the main characters.. It is possible to see the Tom Sharpe similarities as the main character, the father of the bride displays a lot of Wilt's pathos. A family wedding is the ideal function to bring all the skeletons out of the cupboard and into the open and the author does this with sympathetic humour. I was hooked from page one and enjoyed every excruciatingly painful, funny detail.










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Hawksmoor by Peter Ackroyd is our current book club read, but it is beyond me. By chapter three I lost the will to live. This is far too a scholarly academic work for the likes of me. So much as I tried I could not finish this novel. Sorry Mr Ackroyd your book is way over my head.














Instead I was lured into the Waterstones selling technique of three for the price of two. A salutary lesson for me in as far as so eager was I to purchase a bargain I omitted to read the blurb. Playing for Pizza by John Grisham was a huge mistake. I made the assumption that because I knew the authors work so well I would be getting a fast paced legal court room battle. Not a lesson in American football. I had no idea what was was going on. Full of jargon like "twelve to the left including four from a half gainer. Rick boot-legged for fifteen"!!! What was occurring was beyond me. Rare glimpses at the Italian country side were not enough to balance this football book for fans of the game only.

Book two was another offering from Alexander McCall-Smith in the the First Lady Detective Agency series.The Good Husband of Zebra Drive. Much as I have enjoyed how well behaved and polite the people of Botswana are, there is only so much mileage in this genre. Now that the Radio 4 'Now Show' are parodying the series its hard for me to take it seriously.

Book three is yet unopened so I will leave that for another day.

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Roopa Farooki presents the reader with an uplifting tale of a charmed family who all benefit from more than a few home truths. Its hard for me to digest that one family unit can have so many skeletons in their genetic cupboards. But skeletons there are by the shed load and deceit is the textual vehicle of the novel.
The narrative follows a branch of an Indian family as they settle easily into a suburb of London.
No retribution is served on the guilty parties, even the bigamist evades penalty. I suppose that would make it a fairy story in today's culture as there is no consequences and consequences as everyone knows must be faced. However confessions come marching forth and like Bollywood everyone lives happily ever after Aaaaaah.




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This light-hearted, light-weight piece of chick lit.bounces along at a cracking pace. On a personal level I could identify with the single parent theme, but not, unfortunately with the well paid job, the luxury of a gardener, or a cleaner/nanny. she certainly out-classed me by a mile. This is also evident in the tone which is very middle-class. I kept expecting to read of "Jolly hockey sticks" or "lashings of ginger beer" and the text gets very close.This can be confusing when she uses the F word at the drop of a hat and jumps into bed on the first accidental meeting with the lovely Mack.

Charlie the precocious, irritating, know-all adult child of Annie was deserving of the slap Grannie wanted to give, or at least some form of discipline instead He got constant pandering to his every self centred whim.

The blurb said "Laugh out loud account". I did laugh out loud but not necessarily in the right places. Comparing Mel Gibson's Scottish accent in Brave Heart with the well heeled Glaswegian hero brought a smile to my face. Trust me on this one. This is like saying Dick Van-Dyke did a really good job of a cockney accent in Mary Poppins, I don't thinks so.

The author makes a half hearted attempt to address real life issues. Getting a home visit from a GP. The inconsistent, extreme standards of care in our hospitals but because it's all done in such an off-hand manner its hard to take any of it seriously.

This is a novel of little substance but who cares. Sit on the beach with one eye on the text and the other on the world going by and still not loose sight of the narrative. Perfect holiday reading


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Shakespeare is the latest factual offering by Bill Bryson. I have been a fan of his since a Walk in the Woods, so it was a pleasure to pick up the newest of his humorous entertaining attempts at a biography of England's greatest most elusive play-write. He looks hard to expand on the limited information known about the bard and finds little. Nevertheless he manages to scrape off every bit of meat from the bone and delivers a unique picture of the Tudor and Jacobean life style without wallowing in academia. A pleasure without the pain .







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The Sea by John Banville
If you are looking for a book to bring joy and happiness into your life give this one a miss. The plot is doom and gloom and focuses on the morbidity of death. Having said that the vocabulary is expansive and there are rich cameos of well constructed narrative but then there are lots of asides which I didn't quite get and long ramblings of sadness.
I didn't find it a page turner, to the contrary I had to keep dragging myself back to the text and was relieved when I reached the final page.
I am beginning to despair of there ever being spiritually uplifting, joyous novels that bring a smile to my face in the Portsmouth reading list. Must I always be consigned to novels to cut my throat to? come on guys give us a laugh. Please
















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Perfume by Patrick Suskind.
This book did not need to be translated from German to English. It could have been in Double -Dutch, Chinese or an outer Mongolian dialect for all the sense it made to me. I have no idea what it is about and I am not sure I care, because this is without a doubt the most boring. (List upon list of ingredients for perfumes, lists of sights in the country and worst of all, lists of human rancid, putrid body odours). There is no redemptive features neither in style, narrative, voice or plot . I think it tries (think and tries being words used very loosely ) to run parallels with the Bible and that the end displays some tasteless attempt at connecting with the Eucharist.
The cover hype says this is 'now a major film'. Heaven save us! I would rather go and watch paint dry!! No pictures for this book I couldn't be bothered.


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We Need to talk about Kevin by Lionel Shriver.
The disturbing aspects of this book (and all aspects of this book are disturbing) stayed with me long after I had turned the last page. Definitely not for the faint hearted or a delicate constitution. It fires on all cylinders and delivers astute insights into life’s minefields. The novel confronts problems in child rearing, confrontational relationships, guilt and remorse, lying. In fact the whole spectrum of the dark side of human nature. Like two juggernauts on the opposite sides of the motorway driving at 100 mph the narrative careers along in the fast lane into a head-on crash in the central reservation
We don’t all have sons who commit mass murder but a lot of us have found difficulty in relating to sulky screaming babies or felt the odd one out in a family triangle. Many of the characters are larger than life and twice as threatening. This is written from Kevin’s mothers point of view and she deals herself some very scathing judgements.
Initially I was under the impression that the writer,Lionel was a man. Not so, she is a childless women. so she explores areas of life that are foreign to her (foreign is a word commonly used in the text) Yet her writing experience teaches her nothing. Knowing the horrors of raising this little demon does not deter her from having another child and why? Because she wants to see if she can do it better a second time. Its like the fair damsel going into the haunted house in a hammer horror film.
"Don’t do it we shout don’t do it" but does she listen? No she does not.
I loved it so I am not sure what that says about me!
The end, well I had worked out the twist in the tail long before it ended but not the logistics and preparation and it definitely deserves a Wow factor response.
Now show me to a darkened room I need a Valium sandwich and a lie down!

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My first instinctive response to this novel is that it is a woman's voice. The emotional language combined with the writers own words a text 'dense with domestic particulars' meant it was difficult for me to see a heterosexual male character in this very feminine Leo. Perhaps it was because of this implausibility that I took the whole of part one before I could engage with the narrative or was it because it took that long to get going?

A good example of writers switching genders is Kazuo Ishiguro, who has an amazing ability to capture the female point of view in 'Never Let Me Go'

From the conceptual art angle which forms the basis of the backdrop to the plot, I don't get it! Damien Hirst and the likes leave me cold. Its like the Emperors new clothes. If the critics say its art then it is art. Sorry not for me. I don't care how many Turner prizes a pickled half a cow or an un-made bed gets.

Eating disorders such as bulimia and anorexia form a thread that continually rears its muted voice although its not clear to me why

At last by page 183 there is a plot with page turning excitement. The only trouble is that the same ground is covered over and over again into the realms of ludicrous unbelievable enabling by the never ending patience of our hero Leo.

In conclusion I found, as a reader, I needed the stamina to persevere with the weird streams of consciousness and the stomach for the plot when it eventually came.

Do I admire the authors attempts to cover such a huge arena of human conditions with the clever use of a wide vocabulary.? Yes indeed I do.

Would I recommend this book to a friend? No I would not






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Every so often I get the urge to improve my mind. This feeling usually occurs with the other unrealistic intentions I have around January 1st. The one day that New Years resolutions seem like a good idea. This year I decided on an American classic, Tender is The Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald.
What a mind improving exercise this proved to be. This guy writes like music, like poetry, like wonderful art. Painting an exquisite picture of colourful characters in exotic landscapes. A world far removed from my own humble existence.'Three British nannies sat knitting the slow pattern of Victorian England' How about that for a one liner?
The narrative moves at a reasonable pace keeping the reader informed of the many characters progress and degeneration. Maybe winning the lottery would not solve all my problems. this book shows that even being disgustingly rich is not all its cracked up to be.














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Spies by Michael Frayn in my opinion is the best book we have ever read in the book club.Simply but superbly written, the story explores all of my childhood angst and gaffs with incredible accuracy. It is written from a young male point of view but the characters could equally apply to any child/ prepubescent teenager. A bit before my time in period but the social aspects of the class divide were as relevant to me as they were to this story set during during World War II.

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The House on The Strand by Daphne Du Maurier would have been more enjoyable if I had less preconceived ideas of upper middle class dialogue lodged in my brain from the immortal words of Rebecca. 'Last night I dreamed I was in Mandalay'.

This text was a little less Eton or Rugby than I expected and, by the time I had realised this was not a story about the nob's in the famous London Strand, I was wired into the plot.

It was, in places quite a dark foreboding landscape which contrasted with playing happy families. But the language remained that of 'jolly hockey sticks which in the twenty first century can be very dating and incongruous for a timeless novel. This was not a gripping, page turning cliff hanger that I think it set out to be but was a pleasant ghost story to read on a wet Sunday afternoon.

The plot came with a health warning! ' Just say no to drugs' They can they can seriously damage your health and your perception of reality but it was an interesting way of going about it.

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It is that time of year. The time when media pundits take the opportunity to document their own preferences for every given art form of the previous twelve months.
So I will jump on the bandwagon and give my top favourite reads of 2007.



Coming in at number five is 'The Reader' by Bernard Schlink.
It is a love story with the added dimensions of not only the age difference but the unlikely place and time. Immediately after world war two in the worn torn centre of Berlin.

The right of passage, sensitively portrayed by the writer, endears the main character to the reader.
Surprisingly the same applies to the female protagonist who comes across as much to be pitied as blamed. She is damaged goods who survives, as well as anyone could in the difficult circumstances she had to endure.

By presenting this simple story in a sympathetic manner the writer has helped to remove some of my own prejudices against a nation for an event that happened before even I was born!









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Next at number four is The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. Crossing continents but staying with the war theme this is a family saga from Afghanistan.
My limited view of this society was of soldiers bombs and tanks. All the sights that the news agency presents.

In this book I had the opportunity to see a family living, working, loving crying dying and suffering. The same emotions that we all can all identify and empathise with but the added ingredient of dodging bullets incorporates danger and suspense. The writer humanises the enemy which will always make inroads to peace in the world

If I do have a criticism it is a small one. The ending is all Hollywood which probably explains why this book will soon be released as a film .

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Number 3 is the really funny 'A Short History of Tractors in the Ukrainian' by Marina Lewycka.
If you have a father and have ever really been embarrassed by his behaviour either on the dance floor or in the company of your friends then just multiply this cringe making experience ten fold and you will know what the children of this parent endures.

I don't often laugh out loud on the bus or in the waiting room of my dentist! But here I was presented with a mad, improbable, yet possible scenario that had me in stitches.

The first hurdle to overcome is that of the title. I am sure the author thought it a good idea to put off a great many readers with this one but don't be. This is not a 'Farming Today' story.
It is a wonderful, entertaining, engaging family history with lots of sympathetic characters and I like that especially at Christmas.

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On the home straight now and a close finish for my two top books. Greenvoe by George Mackay Brown must be the Scottish equivalent of 'Under Milk Wood' by Dylan Thomas and perhaps one day Sean Connery may be tempted to read the novel and give this book the same kudos that Richard Burton gave to the Welsh iconic text.

The language is poetic and the characters so beautifully crafted that it is easy to feel the magic of the landscape of the Orcadian Island of Helllya. Here life is hard and basic. Comforts are few and hardly luxurious.

The slow pace and the refusal to move with the times of the inhabitants of this Scottish Island leads up to the inevitable fate of such a tight knit community.

I grew to know and like each character as their past and present is gently disclosed. None were exactly as they first appeared. Just like in real life and each had a soft gentle side that experiences in life had not eroded.










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Now for number one. This book is by far the best I have read this year. It contains every ingredient to fulfill my appetite. Tasty characters who are well researched and expertly sculpted. Divine New York society that basis its lifestyle on greed.

Fast, furious,frenetic pace that had me excited and engrossed in equal measure. Leaping across the strict class divide it manages to mix the comic and the tragedy of the landscape.

Incorporates solid historical facts with mesmerising fiction. How I managed to put this book down is nothing short of a miracle, but hey ho I had to eat and sleep.

If I was a gambler I would put money on this being a blockbuster film in 2008. If not it should be.
Cleverly written amazingly brave to tackle this subject.
But don't believe me read it yourself.

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The one redeeming feature of this novel is its brevity!

Oh so many similes, and so incongruous. 'long hands joined like the ears of a butchered rabbit' (p.50).

Repetition is used in literature to emphasise an important point. It felt like every second line in this text was repeated. Oh why? Oh why? Oh why?

The central characters are about as believable as their names, and Honeybuzzard! I like to have at least one sympathetic character that endears me. Without exception they are a bunch of horrors with no saving graces.

The language construction is a hotchpotch of very high-flying vocabulary and street-wise colloquialisms. This left me feeling like I was travelling in a parallel universe.

I had a strong sense that the narrator had never inhabited the world in which she lived. Somewhere anonymous in England. Sometime in the sixties. Who calls their regular pub, a public house all the time? Not the local, not the name, just the public house. Strange.

Call me paranoid but I felt this novel was pretentious and patronising in equal measure.

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The Summer Book by Tove Jansson.

What joy, what pleasure, what innocence. This book is like a warm, soft, comfort blanket. Gives an enormous sense of peace and security, immediately raises the spirit and dissovles all cares and woes.

Every chapter stands alone like a daily reflection, yet the continuing thread is that of the two main characters. The stoic Grandmother, the anchor, the peacemaker, the reprobate! The granddaughter, Sophia. A six year old adult who is grandmother's enabler. She listens and learns and recounts her experiences on this tiny island off the coast of Finland.

Each small adventure brings a smile and delivers these two wonderfully crafted characters closer to the heart. Dare I say every woman should read this. I would say every man too but I am not sure they would get it! Or can you contradict me? That would be so good.




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Life of Pi by Yann Martel

Glowing tributes by the national press adorn the first few pages prior to the novel its self. Added to this my husband and my daughter told me it was a great book. So why was it that each time I put the book down I was reluctant to return to the story? I had to steel myself to once more turn the pages. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse for the castaway. They did!

Blood and gore are so vividly portrayed that the words became a personal experience rather than just words on a page. this text should come with a health warning. 'Reading this novel can make you feel sea sick ' I could taste the salt water and felt distinctly queasy as the life boat bobbed about on the ocean.

I don't think I am clever enough to understand what the deeper level of this spiritual journey means. I do know that it had a profound effect on me days after I closed the book for the last time.


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The Tenderness of Wolves by Stef Penney

There is no central story teller to this novel. All of the main characters appear to get the opportunity to tell their own version of the many, sub-plots. This technique does not, in my view make it easy to slide into the text as readily as the blurb lead me to believe. The writer makes no attempt to spoon feed the reader and frequently I was confused by the narrator changes.


Nevertheless it is a rattling good yarn. There is a point when I wonder how many people are mad enough to wonder the length and breadth of the frozen north of Canada taking no heed of severe weather conditions and not a thermal vest or liberty bodice in sight and then are surprised when they are placed in real danger either from wild animals or snow storms but these commuters appear to have a good reasons for not waiting until spring to set off on this hazardous journey and it is these reasons that are the building blocks of the individuals journey.

This is a robust adventure story with several light dusting's of romantic snowdrops without being overtly sentimental, which adds to its attraction. The author refuses to indulge in Mills and Boon type goo.

The loose ends are all left hanging like paper snowflakes in an infant classroom. No tidy coupling which is to be expected in this freezing atmosphere. The women characters have an amazing equality that is more of today then 1867. Their rebellious natures puts meat on the bone and I think this adds to the substance of the novel. May I suggest a roaring fire and warm slippers to ward off the chilling atmosphere. I would love to hear your views







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