Catherine Johnson

Walker Books

9781406340570

October 2013

paperback

Finished

I reviewed (positively I seem to remember) a number of this author’s early young adult books when I was writing Teen/YA book reviews for The Scotsman. It had been a while since I had read something by her. I remembered those earlier books as being very contemporary, but Sawbones is a firmly historical novel set in the age of pioneering anatomy and surgery.

Johnson (who writes scripts for Holby City amongst other things) writes no less well about historical subject-matter than she does about contemporary issues. If I have two reservations about this novel they would be i) the narrative curve is a little too shallow in the early part of the book (I would have liked the shooting episode which energises the plot momentum to have happened twenty pages sooner) and ii) I didn’t quite see the dramatic point of Anna’s departure for Holland near the start of the novel unless it is to become a factor in a sequel, and even then I think it should have received some kind of return mention at the end of this novel.

Those two caveats aside, Sawbones can be enthusiastically recommended as a stirring yarn with vivid characters and equally vivid action. If only the BBC still produced a sequence of Sunday afternoon serials, this book would have been a perfect candidate for dramatisation.

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Brian Kimberling

Tinder Press

9780755396207

May 2013

213pp

Whole book read

There’s a bittersweet feeling that comes when you turn the last page of a really good novel. Often it comes from the emotional power of the story, or an attachment that you have felt as an involved reader with one or more of the characters. Less frequently it comes from the knowledge that the voice of the writer has come to the end of their tale. The story is over. The voice has spoken.
And it is Brian Kimberling’s voice, as much as the story he tells in SNAPPER, that makes this such a startlingly good debut. At just over 200 pages it is a short book (by today’s standard). I read it slowly, savouring the elegantly humorous measure and fluency of its prose.
Nathan Lochmueller, the narrator, and the other characters in the book are vivid, despite there being no high drama or adventure involved in the plot. For much of the first half of the book Nathan has a job collecting bird observations on a reserve in southern Indiana, a landscape and a microclimate described with affectionate and ironic honesty. From this starting point the story unfurls backwards and forwards, involving college friends, inconsequential encounters and, not least, Lola, a free spirit with whom Nathan enjoys an on-off relationship.
Insofar as the book has plot-driven page-turning momentum, the desire to know whether or not Nathan and Lola eventually get together permanently keeps the reader wondering to the end.
I was reading a proof copy. The hardback is published in May and the paperback in August (2013). An eBook will be available in April.
At its conclusion and at its heart it is a coming of middle-age novel that leaves us realising how important it is to stay true to the spirit and energy of our youthful selves. Not all the characters in this book manage it, but it is clear that Kimberling (via his main character Nathan) is made despondent by what time does to some of us.

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Sally Nicholls

Marion Lloyd Books

1407105132

Apr 2009

It is the subtext of Sally Nicholls second novel that makes it so powerful. There is a sense of pain and of grief that permeates through the novel and nowhere is this more poignantly felt than in the absence of Molly and Hannah’s cripplingly bereaved father, a gap that gains a weight of significance every bit as heavy as the sudden, unexpected death of their mother.
Solace and resolve is found for the bookish Molly – whose favourite reads include the ouevre of Enid Blyton and Jacqueline Wilson – when the myth of the Green Man manifests itself in fully realised formbefore her. Choice of this analogy feels apt in as much as there is a cyclical quality to where death and life are found with each counter-balancing the other.
There is a quiet, subtleness about the message of regrowth and of what it is to be alive that permeates the novel building to a head of steam that invigorates and inspires readers. Unlike in Nicholls’ first novel, ‘Ways to Live Forever’, where the writing is pinioned constantly by the emotional response that is wrought solely by its subject, here the style is lighter and more balanced and it benefits from this.
Myth, nature and magic combine to create an enlivening story of individual and ultimately environmental growth in this moving work.

Matilda Webb ill. Ian Benfold Haywood

Happy Cat

1905117833

Jun 2008

The poetic diction of the book’s opening immediately locates the microcosm of the lilting ebb and flow of sea sounds and of the various comings and goings of lives lived along the harbour lines. At the heart of the book lies a nameless and homeless kitten whose desire for a place amongst peers forms the premise for the book.
Strengths are the deft descriptions of the harbour and its various component parts, these are explored from the minutiae of fish schools, swimming and circling in the surrounding seas, to the domineering image of the cruiser which comes to dock. The polarity of these extremes is captured adeptly in Ian Benford Haywood’s illustrations which evoke, the various movements and motion of the sea.
The novel’s evocation of the haughty, proud manner and demeanour of the cats inhabiting the various vessels humorously references the archetypes of sea-life. Implicit in these are feline character traits that will instantly provoke an affinity amongst any and all cat-lovers.
Searching for a home to call her own, the cat’s tale is one that is appealing and resonant to all who have considered, even in the vaguest terms, their identity and role in society. A satisfying resolve is marred only, perhaps, by the implausibility of its practicality, but these are small faults in a book that encapsulates a whole world, way of life and method for working out our positions alongside that of others…

Jan Mark, ill. Richard Holland

Walker Books

1844287491

Apr 2007

A tribute to human knowledge and achievement, Jan Mark’s final completed work, ‘The Museum Book’ forms a fitting epitaph to an author whose work constantly challenged and was illuminated by a sense of curiousity and intrigue. As with her fictional output, the unique quality coursing through this extraordinary book is the intricate connections between experience and understanding that Mark has teased out.
‘The Museum Book’ insinuates the desire for macrocosmic realisation, yet accomplishes this down to the most minute detail, outlining the importance of individual experience and knowledge.
Richard Holloway has done a sterling job in epitomising through his illustrations, the wealth and breadth of knowledge that museums provide us access towards, and in making visual Mark’s verbal challenges as to what constitutes a museum, and to looking beyond the mere fabric and architecture of the buildings themselves.
Not always easy, or comfortable, consideration is given here to the nature of a museum and the plunderous acts that have sometimes underpinned their collation throughout history.
Here is a lasting gift, a tribute and testament to the skills of an author whose creative output, rather than sales figures, marks her out as one of the most remarkable authors of recent years. A welcome and an arguably necessary addition for the bookshelf of the everyman, whether they be young or old…

Pete Johnson

Barrington Stoke

1842994506

Jan 2007

‘All the other parents were just looking around without any fuss. Only two were making a right show of themselves ‘ mine.’

Ruby, affectionately known as Tiddles to her parents is mortified when they attend the school open day. Loud voices, flamboyant clothing and embarrassing anecdotes from childhood combine to make this a cringe-worthy visit.
Following the open day, Ruby, Grace and Callum decide to hold their own competition, the ‘Ouch Factor’ to decide the most embarrassing set of parents. Scoring is one point for clothing too young for said parent, two points for assuming youth parlance, three for discussing schoolwork with friends, four for a public reprimand, five for public singing and six for a big hug or kiss, anywhere or anytime!
With the parameters firmly established, the competition begins but its outcome surprises the friends, who come to realise the value of parents as the people that they are regardless of whatever perceived freakeries and foibles they might have’ Compromise is reached in a way that shows understanding, but that does not belittle children’s feeling and often self-conscious outlooks.
Characteristically, profundity of Pete Johnson’s social comment is made accessible via his grasp of the palliative qualities of the comic.

Bernard Ashley

Orchard Books

1846160596

Oct 2006

If I were still a teacher, this book would be a tempting choice to get my class engaged in a whole number of fields. Geography, history, current affairs and politics, evolving use of English language’ any of these might be approached through DOWN TO THE WIRE.
We’re in West Africa here; a fictitious but very recognisable country somewhere in the region of Nigeria and Ghana. Near the coast we have the wealthier part of the nation, the government, the dominant tribe, the strongest western influences. Inland, we have poorer, often-resentful tribal minorities, sharing their cultural and religious allegiances with those in neighbouring countries rather than with their own government and fellow citizens. Yet, as in so many west African states, the nation’s wealth is dependent on one or two commodities. It might be oil, or precious metals, or cocoa: in this case it is HEP, generated through a vast inland dam project (surely modelled on the Volta) and providing power that can be sold abroad, as well as driving domestic industry. But, typically, this resource lies within the territory of the tribal minorities. So when the question of independence for these minorities comes up, the government eyes its precious resource and is more than a little dismayed.
It’s a model that recurs constantly, one made possible by western colonization, non-tribal borders and further interference long after any occupying power has fled. The reliance on single resources and erosion of traditional subsistence economies, the wish to exploit natural resources, the wish to sell arms to both the minority ‘freedom fighters’ (themselves often sponsored or controlled by fellow tribesmen in other countries) and to the governing troops, the demented wish to sell nuclear technology to unstable powers (is there any other sort?)’ this is what drives the western take on so many developing countries.
So, into this bubbling mess drop Ben Maddox, a UK reporter, sent with his cameraman by a canny news editor to get a scoop on possible war and humanitarian catastrophe. Add also a promising young footballer, one of the tribal minority, under conflicting pressures to make his name on the lucrative world stage and to stick by his cultural and religious roots, to keep excellence at home. Stir in a ‘terror’ group that kidnaps children to turn them into soldiers. As a finishing touch add Israelis and others, possibly sniffing out a nuclear market; an Irish ex-football star, ostensibly talent-scouting; a western mercenary, with his eyes on power and wealth.
Ashley’s real coup here is that he sets this all up and makes it totally accessible to a teen audience, spinning an easy-read thriller-type plot that is told through e-mails, news reports, the diary of a kidnapped girl, football commentaries and texts, as well as short chunks of traditional narrative. Some of the main characters are a tad two-dimensional or unengaging ‘ there is a whiff of the boys’ adventure stories of yesteryear – but as a whole, the book is gripping and sickeningly realistic as we watch Ben and his colleague get drawn steadily across the line that keeps newspeople ‘neutral’.
A recommended, original read, tweaked from four to five chicks by its huge relevance.

Anne Fine

Corgi

0552552690

Jun 2006

“Maybe I am the only person in the world who wants to be different from what I am.”

Anne Fine’s first two novels for children, ‘The Summer House Loon’ and ‘The Other Darker Ned’ are conflated with a brief bridging interlude under the new title ‘On the Summerhouse Steps’.
Fine’s narrative style in these first two novels remains as fresh and observant as it must have been on first publication in 1978 and 1979, it is reminiscent of the light-refracting sparkle and the musical tinkles as ice-drifts-against-glass in summer imbibes.
Structured in two parts the novel charts the ways in which Ione, the protagonist changes and develops. The concept of change – whether that be physical, emotional or change of beliefs, remains a central preoccupation in Fine’s body of writing. The first part of the novel sees Ione bring together her father, Professor Muffet’s, secretary Caroline and Ned Hump, one of his students with whom Ione forms an instant affinity whilst ‘on the summerhouse steps’. Ione presents as a slightly younger, less experienced take-on Jane Austen’s ‘Emma’ in this first part of the novel, interested for the most part in the lives and concerns of others rather than fully aware of herself..
The second part sees Ione fall prey to the proverbial fate of the eavesdropper as she hears her father despair as to how his daughter is frittering her life away. Following this and a vision of a boy starving in India, with the help of Ned Hump, Ione sets about raising money for the famished. The development of philanthropic interests contrasts markedly here with Caroline’s self-interest and obsession.
During the re-setting of the novel, Anne Fine has taken the opportunity to edit and bring the books up-to-date. As the first books by an extraordinarily diverse and always socially relevant author, Anne Fine’s ‘On the Summerhouse Steps’ deserves a place on the shelves of everyone interested in the history and development of children’s literature.

Ally Kennen

Marion Lloyd Books

0439951046

June 2006

The cover of this one put me off: textured like the skin of a dinosaur, a huge yellow eye looking out of the beast’s face. Oh gawd, I thought, not horror, not Jurassic Park, not monsters, please.
Just goes to show how wrong you can be.
The book is not about monsters or dinosaurs. There is a creature in there, but he’s not the ‘beast’. The ‘beast’ is 17-year-old Stephen, reaching the end of a three-year stint at yet another foster home and facing the grim prospect of going on to St. Mark’s hostel next, home to addicts and losers. Stephen speaks to us in conversational first-person, present-tense narration: a lot of that about at the moment. The first thing he gives us is a list of the ten worst things he’s done in his life. Clearly he’s learnt to have a certain perception of himself, and as we meet his foster family, his social worker and other influences in his life, we can see why. For all their wish to do good, even the best of them have marked him down as an outsider, an unreliable entity, a probable ‘no-good’ troublemaker. Yet the person that gradually emerges for the reader is very different. He is responsible, according to his own rules, he has integrity, he is a fighter. Enough of a fighter to break through the self-doubt and the doubts of those around? Enough of a fighter to deal with the mysterious creature and to avoid St. Marks? To get the girl? Read it and find out. But don’t be surprised to find yourself gradually liking this boy more and more as the story unfolds, whatever judgment you made on page one about those ‘ten worst things’. See, you’re as bad as the rest of them.
A great book from a new Bristol writer. And, in retrospect, a great cover too.